“Can you give this to Quinn for me?” Zander asked the bird as he tucked the note and the extra sheets into the canister.
The bird chirped once, pressing her head against his hand.
“All right.” He reached into his bag again, this time pulling out a piece of dried fruit and holding it out to her. “Please will you take this to Quinn?”
She pushed against his hand again, this time rubbing her wing back and forth on his wrist before pulling away, bobbing her head once, and then taking off with a silent flutter. He tried to watch where she went, but as soon as she reached the first tree, she disappeared, her flight invisible, not disturbing even a single branch.
“That was good if that’s your first time. Whose bird is she?”
“Tobias’ I think. He has several of them.”
“Several? That’s very unusual.”
“That’s what I hear. None of them have been able to find Ellen or Charles, though. Nor have any of the birds who should know them.”
Max nodded. “They must not be in any of their usual places – or if they are, the birds can’t reach them for some reason. Have the birds you’ve been sending to them been returning?”
“Yes, just empty handed, except for the notes Quinn has sent with them.”
“Well, at least they’re not being captured. It sounds like there’s a lot to catch me up on when we make it back to where Quinn is.” Max was looking through the binoculars again, but after a moment he handed them to Zander.
“What’s going on over there?” Zander asked.
“Nothing so far. Surely someone had to have seen us come through, and they must have realized we saw them when we stopped, but they don’t seem to be responding at all. How do you think we should approach this?”
“Me?” Zander looked around, but both Davis and Dorian seemed to be waiting to hear what he had to say, too.
“I’m guessing you didn’t earn that sash with your horsemanship or your swordplay, so, yes, I want to hear your thoughts.”
He tried to hide his reddening cheeks behind the binoculars. “Maybe she gave me this because she feels sorry for me.”
“She’s not stupid, and neither am I. She wouldn’t undermine herself by giving you that without a reason – and you wouldn’t wear it if she did. So what do you think?”
“I think we have a problem. Look around, quick.”
The response to his command was instantaneous, but still not fast enough – or maybe it was just in time. Max was turned halfway when the first arrow came, so it caught him in the elbow rather than his middle.
Two more arrows sailed into their formation in the time it took Zander and Davis to dismount and pull Max down behind his horse. One drifted into a bank of melting snow, but the other struck Max’s horse in the neck.
Two lines of guards behind them moved immediately, rushing at the archers. Three more arrows flew, but then stopped.
“Get Callum!” Zander yelled to Dorian, who was already leading several lines of soldiers at the front in a charge down toward the soldiers in the trees.
“How many are up that way?” Max’s face contorted in pain. The arrow had gone entirely through his upper arm and was lodged there now.
Zander’s head spun and blood pounded in every part of his body, even his toes pulsed with every beat of his heart. “I can’t see, but there were two missing from the group down there – I saw twenty-five and there should have been twenty-seven. I think there were three shooters.”
He was glad that Davis seemed to have some idea of what he was doing; he stopped Max from pulling on the arrow and instead took off his sash and wrapped it around Max’s arm, stabilizing the wood.
Though he was barely able to make his legs move at all, he pushed himself to his feet wanting to see what was going on, but before he was halfway up, an Eirenthean guard he didn’t recognize caught his shoulder and shoved him back toward the ground. “Stay down!”
So many things were going on at once that it was hard to focus on anything, even if his brain had been functioning properly.
Davis and several other guards were busy attending to Max, and more guards surrounded them completely, blocking his view of everything, and it was loud. There was commotion everywhere – the swing of swords, shouting, the frenetic neighing of the wounded horse – Zander couldn’t make sense of most of it.
Suddenly, in the middle of everything, a now-familiar swoop of feathers landed right by his boots.
The bird regarded him for a minute, apparently aware how disoriented he was, but once she was sure he recognized her, she stepped right up onto his leg.
For just a second, he stared at her, wondering if she was real.
Then she butted her head into his chest.
He put one finger against her and edged her back. “You couldn’t possibly have made it to Quinn and back already.”
Even as he said it, he understood. Even if he couldn’t figure out the scene around him, he knew why the bird was here. She’d seen, and she’d come back – knowing he’d want to add to his message.
His fingers were so clumsy it took three tries to get the canister open, and once he did, he was only capable of scribbling a single line before shoving the paper back in.
The bird didn’t ask for a treat or affection this time. As soon as the cylinder snapped closed, she was gone.
~ Twenty-Seven ~
Control
THE FOOTSTEPS BEHIND her were soft, but the sound still made Quinn jump, startling the baby in her arms and making him fuss.
“Sorry, sorry.” Thomas hurried around the couch so she could see him. He leaned down to take Samuel from her. “I didn’t mean to wake him. I’ll get him back to sleep.”
“It’s not your fault I’m so jumpy.” She allowed him to take the baby, though. Thomas seemed a bit steadier than she was right now; he rocked Samuel in his arms and cooed quietly. After only a moment, the infant was out cold again.
“You still haven’t heard anything from anyone?”
“No. Not from James or Dorian or even from Nathaniel going to Valderwood with Tobias. I feel so useless just sitting here when I’ve sent people to three different dangerous places.”
“You’re not just sitting here, Quinn. You’re coordinating everything and making decisions.”
“It just seems like I should be out there with them.”
“With who? If you’d have gone with James’ group this morning, you’d have missed the communication with Max, and then what? Abandon them and take some of their men to change missions? Or maybe you should be in the village with Tobias and Nathaniel?”
She stood and walked over to one of the maps on the wall again, studying the three different places she’d sent people today, running her finger along the lines of the rivers and the shaded area that marked the spot most of her troops were currently stationed. “I know you’re right. I even know why it would be the definition of insanity to put a king or a queen anywhere near conflict if it can be helped. I just hate waiting.”
“Patience has never been one of your greatest virtues, milady. Especially when it comes to not knowing things you’d like to know.”
She whirled around at the voice that didn’t belong to Thomas.
“Alvin! How did you get in here?”
“The door’s open.”
She wondered why she’d even bothered asking the question. “Is that what this is, then, Alvin? Some grand lesson to teach me patience?”
His thick white eyebrows knitted together, though the rest of his face remained serene. “A lesson, Your Majesty? No, I don’t think it’s a lesson. I think it’s a war.”
“And what happens if I don’t learn to be more patient?”
“I really don’t know. It was only an observation, milady. If my memory serves, your impatience has, on occasion, served you quite well.”
“It hasn’t always.”
“Everyone has traits that are assets in some situations and challenges in others. I’ve always seen your impa
tience as part of you, and since I’m fond of you, I tend to like that trait of yours. I think what you choose to do with your traits is a much better way to determine whether they’re good or bad, anyway. Look at Thomas and Tolliver. Both are charismatic, and capable of inducing loyalty in others in a matter of minutes. The trait is the same, their hearts are not.”
“I’m afraid you lost me when you put Tolliver in the same sentence as Thomas.”
Thomas coughed. “And I think I’d better go and give this child to Mia for a while.”
Quinn and Alvin both watched Thomas carry Samuel out of the room, closing the door behind him, even though she hadn’t asked him to.
“So, why are you here then?”
“Do I have to have a reason?”
“No. You’re welcome with us at any time, Alvin.” She went to the window now, scanning the gray sky for any sign of birds returning with messages. “If you’re only here for a visit, I might still impose and ask for advice.”
“What sort of advice can I offer?”
She kept her eyes on the sky outside. “For starters, did I do the right thing sending James and Nathaniel and Dorian and Zander to all those different places today?”
He was quiet for so long that she finally turned around to face him. When she did, he met her gaze. “What’s the ‘right thing’, Quinn?”
She sighed, looking down at the floor. “Did I just send any of them off to get killed?”
“I don’t know. Did you?”
Her eyes snapped back up. “I’m being serious, Alvin.”
“As am I. When you strategized your responses to the situations, did you look at the risks and the people you were sending, and decide which ones would be more useful to you dead than alive?”
Her mouth fell open so far she had trouble getting her answer out. “Of course not!”
“Some people do, you know. But if you didn’t, then I think you have the answer to your question.”
She had no control over the exasperated huff that escaped from her lips. “Just because I didn’t send them off for the purpose of getting killed doesn’t mean they won’t!”
“No, you’re right. It doesn’t.” Alvin laid his hand on her arm, just below her elbow. But if that happened today, if one of them was killed, would that automatically mean your decisions were poor ones?”
“Kind of. I mean, it is my job to keep them safe.”
“Yes, to an extent it is. But I don’t think you’re the one endangering them.”
“But I’m not protecting them.”
Alvin’s voice was quiet and gentle. “What would protect them?”
She knew the answer, and the look in his eyes told her that he knew she did.
“You can’t control what other people do, Quinn. Even as queen, there are things you will never be able to dictate. When you decided this morning to send those men out, you were deciding there was something more important than their safety. What was so important?”
“Finding Ellen and Charles and other Friends of Philip to bring them to safety, getting medical care to Valderwood, and getting assistance to Max and his troops.”
“Do you think any of those are poor decisions?”
Turning to the window again, she shook her head.
“What if the people of Valderwood took Nathaniel’s help and used it against him? What if he went into the home of a sick man, healed him, and then the man turned around and used his healed body to murder Nathaniel and then went to fight in Tolliver’s army?”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Is that what I just sent him into?”
“I truly have no idea, Your Majesty. But if you thought it was, would you send a bird right now telling him to deny help to a sick man?”
After taking a very long deep breath she faced him again. “Do you want my first instinct, or what I’d probably do after thinking about it for a minute?”
He just nodded. “That’s who you are, Quinn. Given the real choice, you’d rather take a risk than be the one who denied help to someone who needed it.”
“I don’t know if that makes me a very effective commander of an army, though.”
Alvin shrugged, chuckling softly. “I think the real trouble starts when people start imagining that good and evil are different at the top of the chain. Helping those who need help is always good – even if they make a choice to do evil with it.”
“So it’s intentions that matter?”
“No, not really, Quinn. Tolliver could convince himself – and plenty of other people – that his intentions are good. He had ‘intentions’ to unite the kingdoms by forcing Linnea to marry him. He has ‘intentions’ now of upholding values in Philotheum that are important to many of his supporters. In the end, intentions don’t mean much of anything at all.”
“But what if I sent Nathaniel to Valderwood today just to gain whatever support I can from those people and keep them from attacking me and messing up whatever small advantages I have in this war?”
He shrugged again. “You could have accomplished those goals – those intentions – in many ways. You could have attacked them first, or had the leaders of their village arrested, or loosed rabid animals in their streets. But you didn’t. You sent your own supplies, and risked someone you love to offer them help, without even asking anything in return.”
“If I’m honest, I’m hoping for something in return.”
“Completely unselfish doesn’t exist. It’s not how the Maker built humans. It’s not a question of whether you’re selfish. It’s a question of whether you use your selfishness to build or to destroy; of whether you care for the sick and feed the hungry, or take advantage of them.”
“And if they take the help I give them and use it to destroy me?”
“Then that’s on them, not you. You asked for my advice, and this is the only bit I know to give you. If you want to know that your decisions are good ones – both as a person and as a queen – then choose to do good things. Act on your own choices and beliefs, without regard for what others choose to do. Even if their choices are to use what you do against you.”
She pressed her fingertips to her face, trying to make some of this conversation sink into her brain, to make sense of what any of it meant. When she couldn’t, she looked up at him again. “It’s not a coincidence that you’re here right now, is it?”
“I don’t believe in coincidences Your Majesty. And, in any case, I’m here because I came here, on purpose, to visit with you. I am glad we were able to have this conversation.”
“Any particular reason?” She knew there was. At this point, she was ready for him to just tell her.
“Yes. In a minute, Sir Marcus is going to come in here with the messages you’ve been waiting for. Your time of making decisions for your troops and for the people of your kingdom is only just beginning.”
“And I don’t suppose you’re going to help me make those decisions, right?”
Alvin smiled. “I’m not the queen. I can only advise.”
“And the only advice you have for me is to choose to do good things.”
“I have faith in you, Quinn.”
~ Twenty-Eight ~
Callum
COME ON, ZANDER. Hold it together. He’d been chanting that mantra inside his head for the last hour, and it was working – mostly.
The twenty-six men under Callum Haddon’s command hadn’t been much of a match for the much-larger battalions led by Maxwell and Dorian. The battle had been over almost before it really got going. Zander hadn’t even fought.
All that was left was waiting for the help Quinn had promised in a message while keeping watch over the captured officer, Callum Haddon, and two other guards who’d surrendered.
“Still not a word from Callum,” Dorian said, coming up the hill to where Zander was sitting with Max. “Not even a threat that we’ll be discovered by other troops in the area.”
“Are all of the men prepared for another encounter?” Max asked. He was still in obvious pain, b
ut one of the army healers had given him something to make him more comfortable. The healer had decided Max’s injury could wait for Nathaniel or William to do the more delicate work. Removing the whole arrow was a risky procedure that could cause damage, so he’d just broken off the ends and stabilized Max’s arm.
Max was ridiculously calm and focused for someone with part of a weapon embedded in him. Zander, on the other hand, couldn’t say that he was handling the situation well at all. It reminded him too much of going through this with Ben, even if Max’s injury wasn’t as severe.
There was another soldier from Eirentheos who had been shot in the back. The healer was attending him now, and Zander couldn’t bring himself to go anywhere near them.
This whole becoming-a-guard thing was starting to seem like a terrible idea, at least at the moment. Having a few good thoughts about strategy in no way qualified him for combat.
Of course, so long as he was here there was nothing stopping him from trying to get answers out of Callum Haddon … yes, that thought was better. Anger was much easier than – whatever it was he’d been feeling. In fact, he was going to go and have a chat with Callum right now.
He heard the commotion just as he walked down the hill toward where the prisoners were being held – the beating of hooves against the ground and the shouts of new voices. His sword was out before he looked up, but when he saw who it was, he turned and continued down the hill.
The newcomers were more of Quinn’s soldiers, led by Kian. He shook his head. Unless something had changed at Tobias’, sending Kian here left only Marcus and Ethan back guarding Quinn and Samuel. There were other soldiers, too now, of course, but none they could trust as implicitly as those who’d escaped from the castle with them.
Thinking about that kindled his anger into something closer to rage. Linnea was there too – her safety compromised along with Ben’s unborn child’s.
He didn’t bother putting his sword away before he strode through the circle of guards surrounding the spot where Callum Haddon was tied to a tree.
Leaves of Revolution Page 22
