by Jane Kindred
This was a pivotal moment in our campaign; if they chose to stand against us as the queen’s representatives, our fight would begin in earnest today. As we’d hoped, it appeared the bulk of their forces had gone with Aeval to Aravoth. Nonetheless, they could give my limited retinue more than a fair fight.
The Captain of the Guard rode out ahead of his men on the square, and though Margarita cautioned me, I rode forward alone to meet him. The captain looked me over. He was an older gentleman, past the celestial state of grace, of the order of Archangels by his insignia.
“You have entered the Celestial Duchy of Iriy, subject and protectorate of Her Supernal Majesty Aeval, Queen and Autocrat of All the Heavens.” The stern and formal address was not a good sign. “By whose authority do you enter?”
I screwed up my courage, though I felt like sinking into the ground. “By my own. I am the Grand Duchess Anazakia Helisonovna of the House of Arkhangel’sk, the rightful heir to the throne of the Firmament of Shehaqim and All the Heavens.” This was the first legal declaration of my claim to the throne, and I hoped he couldn’t see me trembling beneath the heavy brigandine. Kae had urged me to wear it from the day we started out, but it had seemed excessive. Today, I thought, it might at least give me an air of authority, and managed to cover some of the grime that coated me. I’d made certain all my men were equally attired and ready for battle if need be.
Instead of responding to the challenge, the captain seemed visibly shaken. “So it’s true.” His voice was full of emotion. He dismounted his horse and knelt on one knee on the cobblestones, removing his plumed helmet and bowing his head. “The Iriyan Mounted Guard is at your service, Your Supernal Highness.”
I let out the ragged breath I’d been holding, almost giddy with relief and gratitude. “Please rise. I’m grateful for your loyalty, Captain…”
“Iaoth.” Still holding his helmet at his side, he stood studying me as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. “The Ereline Palace is at your disposal, Your Supernal Highness, should you wish to lodge your men there for the night.”
I inclined my head. “Thank you, Captain Iaoth. But we plan to press on toward Elysium.”
“If I may speak freely, Your Supernal Highness.”
“Please.”
“It looks as if your men could use a rest and a dry bed. I believe it would do them good and leave them better prepared for what awaits them at Elysium. And I dare say your horses could use the rest as well.”
I surveyed the troops, the proud Virtues gracefully sitting their mounts as if they were not splattered with mud, their magnificent queues of hair in disarray and dull. It would certainly present a more formidable picture if we entered Elysium in the full glory of the Virtuous Army. I noticed Lively holding her belly and leaning against Love, and I suffered a pang of guilt at dragging her on this long march, though she’d been perfectly happy to come.
I sighed and acquiesced. “Your counsel is well received, Captain Iaoth.” I turned my horse and signaled them. “We will hold here for today.”
Once our horses had been seen to, I walked with Captain Iaoth as we entered the palace. It felt strange to find myself here. I hadn’t set foot in this place since I was a young child visiting my uncle Lebes.
“Who occupies the palace?” I asked him. “I don’t want to put anyone out.”
“No one, Your Supernal Highness. There has been no one here but the staff since the Grand Duke Lebes died.”
“Were you here then?”
Iaoth nodded. “It was an unhappy time…preceding a more unhappy time.” He looked sidelong at me. “I served your uncle for many years, Your Supernal Highness. I remember you as a child in pigtails. I gave you candy once, and it gave you a bellyache.”
I laughed. “Yes, that sounds familiar. Usually, I was stealing sweets from Nurse—” I stopped, overcome with sudden fury at the thought of Helga.
“Are you all right?” He touched my arm with concern.
“Are you aware of the rebellion? The Social Liberation Party?”
He scowled. “All too aware. They’ve been making trouble here for months. But you’re not— I mean, they’ve put forth a different heir. You’re not the leader of that party?”
“No, I am not,” I said vehemently. “My former nurse Helga Semyazovna is their leader, and she has stolen my daughter, Ola.”
The captain regarded me with a look of shock and disbelief. “Your nurse?”
“She has also stolen my nephew, taken in a most vile assault upon my sister before her death,” I told him grimly. “The heir she’s put forth she has no right to represent. He is her prisoner.” My face must have gone white with anger.
Iaoth led me to a chair in the salon we had stopped outside. “I’ve never heard of such a thing in my life.” He shook his head. “And your daughter. We’d heard there was a child, but I hadn’t learned her name. It was the Grand Duchess Omeliea Helisonovna’s nickname, was it not?”
I nodded, preoccupied with the wave of anger that had ridden over me.
“I never saw four more lovely sisters,” he said with a fond, sad smile. “All of Heaven was devastated by the tragedy. And I never for a moment believed the rumors about you, Your Supernal Highness. That you could have killed all those you loved. Impossible.”
I thought about those words later as I lay waiting for sleep after a blessedly hot bath and a fine meal. I’d insisted on sleeping alone, not wanting to give the servants at the Ereline Palace any appearance of impropriety, and Vasily, I believed, was glad to have the time alone with Belphagor. As I stared up at the ceiling in the grand room that had been prepared for me, my mind seemed too full, too agitated to rest. Impossible, Iaoth had said. Yet Kae had done it. He’d killed everyone he loved.
I thought of the dream I’d had of Aeval poisoning his mind before the murders. If I’d dreamt the truth, it wasn’t, as I’d imagined, that he’d simply done her bidding because she’d enchanted him. She’d driven him mad first with her cruel lies, painting pictures for him—like moving pictures in the world of Man—that had seemed more real than his own life. She had preyed upon his fears and insecurities, upon his darkest thoughts. Could it have happened to any one of us? Could I have killed the ones I loved if my heart and mind had been filled with poison?
For the first time since the murders, I let myself think of Kae not in terms of what he’d done or what he’d become, or even the friend for whom I grieved, but as a man, lost and troubled. He was like the survivor of a devastating accident, coming slowly back to himself, and what had I done? Reminded him continually of who he’d been and could be no longer, and of the darkness from which he’d returned.
My cheeks damp with tears, I drifted off at last to dream of sitting on the bluff over the Gihon Valley where Kae and I had stopped to let the horses graze on our strained ride. Kae lay with his head in my lap, no mask or scars—no physical signs of the trauma he’d suffered but the tears trailing his cheeks. My sister’s words came back to me: Be kind to him. It hurts so to hear him weeping.
I brushed my fingers through the pale golden waves at his temple and leaned down. “Don’t be sad,” I whispered. I kissed him and woke with a start.
After a sumptuous breakfast of poached eggs on crusty toast, flat cakes with currant jelly that reminded me of Russian blinchiki, smoked ham and sausages of every description, and an abundance of fresh berries, Iaoth approached me with a deep, reverential bow.
“If I might have a word, Your Supernal Highness.”
I rose and followed him to a nearby sitting room to discover Vasily waiting there for us.
“I’ve discussed the matter with your…friend.” His gaze flitted hesitantly toward Vasily.
“His Supernal Highness the Grand Duke Vasily of the House of Arcadia,” I filled in.
Iaoth gaped at me, turning red. “I beg Your Supernal Highness’s pardon.” He bowed nervously to Vasily. “I didn’t realize…”
“Why should you?” Vasily glared at me, profoundly uncom
fortable with his newfound nobility. “Please. Forget the formalities. Just Vasily will do.”
The captain straightened awkwardly and cleared his throat as he addressed me. “I would like to offer the services of the Iriyan Mounted Guard to His Supernal Highness in retrieving the Grand Duchess Ola Vasilyevna and the Grand Duke Azel Kaeyevich.”
I looked to Vasily in surprise.
“I’d like to go with them, Nazkia. Bel’s still set on his mysterious little ‘side trip’ to the world of Man, and I need to do something. I’m not a soldier, and I’m not a strategist. You don’t need me in Elysium. But if I can find Ola— I just can’t stand the thought of Helga keeping her like an animal in a hole!” His eyes had gone red with anger, and Iaoth looked a bit alarmed.
“Of course I need you.” I pressed his hand, and our aether fluttered for a moment, further startling the captain. “But Ola needs you more.” I nodded to our host. “We’d be very grateful, Captain Iaoth.”
He tore his gaze away from our hands. “You should know, Your Supernal Highness, the offer is not entirely altruistic. While I support your bid for the throne, to be perfectly blunt, your success seems tenuous at best with only five hundred men. If I were to pledge the Guard in helping you to take Elysium and fail…” He paused, his cheeks pink.
“I see.” With a glance at Vasily, who obviously hadn’t revealed that we had another thirty-five hundred men behind us, I nodded to the captain. “Thank you for your honesty.”
“Since the Social Liberation Party is an avowed enemy of the queen,” he went on, “our involvement in apprehending them would not be seen as treasonous, no matter the outcome of your endeavor. And if I can bring home your little girl, I will at least feel I have been loyal to the rightful queen of Heaven.”
I tightened my grip on Vasily’s hand. “And you’ll be with Ola. If I cannot make it back to her.”
He reproved me gruffly. “Don’t say that.”
I kissed him on the cheek above his rough patch of beard, trying to suppress the sudden longing his scent inspired. As before, when we’d traveled from the world of Man intent on taking Ola back from her captors, the journey to this point might have marked our last hours together. I wished now I’d taken him to my bed and damned the consequences. Perhaps I wouldn’t have had such peculiar dreams.
The door closed behind me. Iaoth had quietly excused himself.
Vasily’s eyes smoldered at the heat in mine and he lifted me off my feet and carried me to the couch. “We don’t have time for much,” he growled.
“I don’t need time. I need you inside me.”
I’d never seen him unlace himself faster. I’d come down to breakfast in a dressing gown while I waited for my uniform to be pressed, and Vasily threw the skirt out of his way and pulled me onto his lap as he fell back against the cushions. I bit his shoulder to keep from crying out as his heat spread me open, and Vasily pressed me down with his hands at my waist. When I raised my head, he pushed open the collar of the gown and dipped me back to lower his mouth to my breast, tugging at it hungrily, his warm tongue making my breath come in gasps.
Whatever strange dreams I’d had were forgotten as his rapid thrusting brought me to a quick and thunderous climax.
“Vasya,” I moaned, my entire body shaking as he wrapped his arm about my waist, thrust deep, and growled his hot release. I locked my arms around his neck before he could pull away. “You come back to me,” I whispered fiercely. “That’s an order from your sovereign.”
We parted in the square a short time later, Love weeping as she hugged me, and Vasily pulling me close and kissing me passionately despite our audience.
“I’ll see you soon, my angel of mercy,” he rumbled against my ear. “Ola and I both.”
Even Belphagor hugged me with an emotional display. “I have faith in you.” His eyes were both solemn and hopeful. “And you’ve no idea what a rare, strange thing that is for me.” He kissed me on the forehead and then gave me a deep, formal bow and kissed my hand. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Your Supernal Majesty.”
I stared at him, bemused. Vasily, however, folded his arms and refused to say good-bye to him.
“Doverie mne, malchik moi,” Belphagor murmured before he turned away. “Just trust me.”
The palace stables had donated a horse, and Belphagor lifted Love up onto it before climbing on behind her. “Beli’s Boys” were going with him, I discovered. He didn’t volunteer to explain this, and I didn’t ask, but I couldn’t imagine how they would be received in the world of Man. Whatever this “errand” of his was, beyond escorting Love, I hoped the Virtues didn’t regret their involvement. As full of misery and cruelty as Heaven could be, I didn’t think they were quite prepared for what they might find below.
Belphagor’s party departed for the unpaved demon road to Raqia and the Iriyan Mounted Guard took the central avenue toward the remains of the old highway, while my Virtues filled the square, looking magnificent in the early morning. With Lively and Margarita walking beside me, I led the troops out onto the wide highway and rode for the glass-like streets of Elysium.
Vosmaya: The Queen’s Gambit Declined
The angel appeared before him every night now, leading him on toward what it called the Seventh Heaven. Kirill wasn’t certain what to make of this. If it were a Heaven, and especially the Seventh, how could such an abomination occur in it as abducting a child? He preferred not to dwell on this, however, as he believed in this angel and didn’t want to seem doubtful of its word.
It had led him around the city they’d been approaching, avoiding apprehension by the local authorities, showing him places to sleep in the countryside where he wouldn’t be discovered, and leading him to sources of food and water. Sometimes this meant begging by the side of the road; at other times, stealing eggs from farmers and vegetables from cottage gardens. He prayed each night for forgiveness for these sins, but trusted God wouldn’t have sent him this angel to lead him astray.
After his prayers, he lay looking up at the stars thinking of his Love. He ought to regret his sin with her as well, to repent and ask for forgiveness, but he couldn’t. What he regretted was that he hadn’t said good-bye to her in person. He couldn’t bear the thought that he might have hurt her. It had been cowardly to sneak off in the night. He took comfort, however, in the thought that he would soon bring little Ola and this other child to safety. When he’d returned them to Anazakia, he would send word to Love somehow. No matter how eager she’d been for home, he knew she would return in an instant to be by Ola’s side.
He didn’t dare think any further beyond that. Though he couldn’t repent of his knowledge of her, neither could he be with her again. It was wrong. It was impossible. He breathed in a sharp, involuntary breath as his body remembered hers, and the sweet, thin air of Heaven burned in his throat.
§
Lively felt like kicking the baby back. The little devil wouldn’t let her sleep. She got up for what seemed like the millionth time to find a spot beyond the bivouac tents to take a piss, careful not to wake Margarita. She’d become rather fond of the Nephil’s attention, but every now and then she wished for a little privacy.
Just the thought of that attention made Lively’s cheeks warm. It was probably nothing more than friendliness on Margarita’s part. Maybe being a Nephil in Heaven was just as much fun as being a pregnant demon among Virtues. Whatever the reason, she hoped Anazakia hadn’t simply ordered Margarita to keep an eye on her. She couldn’t blame the grand duchess for not trusting her after what she’d done, but she hated the thought that Margarita might only be pretending to like her. It was nice to have a friend. Lively hadn’t really had one since childhood.
It would be nicer, of course, to have a little something more. But Lively had never been the type to inspire infatuation in either sex. She wasn’t going to deceive herself into imagining Margarita’s affection meant something it didn’t.
Since the baby had no intention of letting her sleep, she’d brought her
Chora deck with her, and after returning to camp, she managed to lower herself to a spot near the fire to lay out a few cards. The first she drew was the Archangel of spindles. The card depicted an older woman: The Guardian. Lively smiled to herself. That must be Margarita. Next came Cherub of knives. Lively frowned at this. Secrecy? Was she right about Margarita spying on her, only pretending to be her friend? The third card, the Angel of tricks, depicted a servant with his hand in his master’s pocket—commonly viewed as The Demon.
Lively stared at the spread. She could hear it in her head as clearly as if spoken in her ear: This is your guardian. You are sworn to secrecy. I have need of your services.
Her face grew hot with anger. Aunt Helga had sent the message. Did she think Lively would jump at her beckoning after she’d left Lively to die? The baby gave a defiant kick. She scooped up the cards and looked about nervously as if someone might have heard the words in her head. There was nothing to worry about, of course. Even if someone were to see the cards, no one here could read the Chora.
She tossed a pinch of messaging powder from her pouch into the fire and then shuffled the cards angrily, cutting the deck with two swift motions of her left hand and throwing down three cards of her own: Aeon of knives—you are a liar. Splendor of knives—we are through. And the Succubus. This last was merely an insult.
Lively gathered up the cards, prepared to go back to bed, but the Chora seemed to compel her, and she found herself shuffling once more. With a sigh, she let the cards re-sort themselves and laid them out. This time, they were all Virtues, and she almost laughed aloud. Trusted daughter, you have my word, I would never abandon you, she heard them say. The baby kicked once more as if to say he too thought this the biggest pile of horseshit he’d ever heard. She stacked the cards and let them sit, refusing to respond until she had the overwhelming urge to throw down more, which meant Aunt Helga must be exerting a tremendous projection of her will to send another message over such a distance.
