Upon the Flight of the Queen

by Howard Andrew Jones

  He’d perished upholding his oath and defending those under his protection. Rylin hoped that had been consolation to him at the end.

  It was little solace to Rylin, who felt all the more alone as he guided his mount into the nearly empty streets. Darassus looked as deserted as he himself felt. The vendors had rolled their carts away, and the children were absent from the parks. Most stores were shuttered. A few city criers still wandered the streets, reminding Darassans of the queen’s address.

  It seemed most of the Darassan citizens were already on their way. They did not expect that the queen was a tyrant who had cast aside the rule of law, a liar who murdered anyone who proved inconvenient. If he’d had any humor left, he might have laughed to think how he’d once questioned if he truly had the right to kill her. Now it was his duty.

  30

  Strike as One

  Rylin found a mass of people streaming from the west gate and out into fields that girdled the amphitheater. Once through the gate, he kicked his horse into a canter around the clogged thoroughfare and on toward the rear of the stadium where few but important visitors from other realms entered. Its oval walls rose toward the gray skies, pennants flapping with colors and symbols from not just the realms but the cities within them. Banners draped above the entrances, promising joyful news.

  The venue was primarily intended for the yearly games where competitors who’d excelled at the trials throughout the realms competed for a place in the Altenerai Corps. Other competitions used it throughout the year, but none that filled it so thoroughly.

  As he rode to the guest entrance, he heard the noise of the restless masses beyond, thousands talking amongst themselves, presumably curious about what the queen intended with this unprecedented gathering. There was a festive excitement in the air.

  The city guards on duty at the back entrance let him through without question, for he briefly wore the semblance of the black-haired exalt he’d fought on the palace landing. He nodded when their eyes fell upon him then stepped into the cool shadows of the stadium’s hallways and into the darkness. He hurried up back stairs, conscious of the low rumble of the crowd, then stepped into a narrow hallway, empty and lit only intermittently with lanterns.

  Having watched the squire tryouts at the stadium as a boy, applied at the games, and then supervised them from backstage as an upper-level squire, he was familiar with the layout of the place. There were dozens of dressing areas and several fine suites set aside for visiting dignitaries. If the queen was going to address the people within the hour, she was probably there already in one of the three largest suites, having her hair brushed, adjusting her dress, practicing her speech, and so forth.

  He saw a trio of white-shirted young men and women in the hall ahead—he now knew them as aspirants—and re-donned his semblance to wordlessly return their salutes. Fortunately, they didn’t seem familiars of the person he imitated, and they didn’t tarry to converse with him. Almost he asked if they knew the location of the queen, but he decided against it. He had no idea how this person he imitated actually sounded.

  The semblance was all but spent, now. He was checking its supply as he neared a narrow service stair. At the same time he heard the scuff of boot heels descending he sensed he had but moments of energy left.

  Thelar stepped out of the stairwell. Behind him was a gaggle of aspirants and another exalt.

  Rylin couldn’t help that his lip instinctively curled, which might have been why Thelar looked startled when he met his gaze. The hooked nose turned straight at him as Thelar’s eyes widened farther, and Rylin knew then the man had recognized him even through the semblance.

  Yet Thelar stepped forward, calling to him in a friendly manner: “Meraht! Just who I wanted to see!” Rylin flinched as Thelar put a hand to his arm and guided him toward a dressing room door. His own hand was to his sword hilt, but Thelar called over his shoulder to his companions. “I’ll be along shortly.”

  And then the exalt had thrown open the door, and with a significant look to Rylin, entered before him.

  Rylin walked warily after, searching right and left in the little dressing area for ambushers. He saw a couch and desk and one lantern with guttering candle. A woman’s dress lay across the back of a lone chair, beside discarded footgear and a small travel kit.

  Rylin kicked the door shut, keeping his hands free.

  “What are you doing here?” Thelar hissed. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

  Rylin’s semblance dropped. Apparently mages skilled enough could see right through the thing once they knew what its effects were like. He stared at Thelar, ready to slay, and yet … this wasn’t the reception he’d expected.

  “I am not your enemy, Rylin,” Thelar said softly, and raised two empty hands.

  “No?” He couldn’t stop the tremble of fury in his voice, though he spoke softly. “So you’re not the one who fled to tell the queen about the meeting with the councilors?”

  “I…” Thelar searched his eyes and found no compassion there. “What’s happened?”

  “Did you tell her?”

  “I demanded she tell me if any of it was true. She killed them, didn’t she?”

  “She murdered most of the councilors. She killed Lasren.” He waited for Thelar to challenge him so he could cut him down.

  But his old enemy refused satisfaction. In all the years he’d known the man, Thelar had carried himself with smug self-assurance. This halting, troubled creature seemed a pale shadow. “I’ve tried to plead with her ever since I learned The Fragments were under attack. She keeps saying that it will all be fine in the end, that the pain is transitory…” Thelar looked up at him. Even through Rylin’s anger, he saw that the man’s eyes were anguished. “That all would be made right in the end. When I asked her why N’lahr had been imprisoned, she said it was because she needed the Naor hearthstones, and that they’d threatened to destroy them. She expected I’d understand.”

  “You’re saying you’re suddenly filled with remorse?” Rylin didn’t believe it.

  “It’s not sudden,” he snapped, finally sounding like the arrogant, bitter hastig he’d always been.

  “It seems sudden to me.”

  “You always thought you were better than the rest of us,” the exalt said with a sneer. “So quick to judge. But you never felt the Goddess. She’s there, inside the hearthstones. Queen Leonara taught me how to find her pulse.”

  “The queen’s insane. You should know that by now.” He saw Thelar looking at him in doubt. “Why am I even bothering with you?”

  Thelar gritted his teeth and started for his own sword. Then his shoulders slumped. “Maybe I should just let you kill me,” he said softly.

  Silence had grown as a presence in that room, a shield between them. Rylin heard the thud of a multitude of distant feet as more made their way into the seats above. “Why did you place that bust of Asrahn in the office?” he asked.

  Thelar’s answer sounded a little like his usual self, for his reply, though subdued, implied his listener was an idiot to miss the obvious. “To honor him.”

  “Did you know that Alten Cargen and an exalt killed Asrahn?”

  The answer was strained. “It was M’lahna. And no. Not until I heard the governor read Commander N’lahr’s letter. I’m still not sure I believe it.”

  “You must,” Rylin said slowly, “or you wouldn’t have pulled me in here.”

  “There have been little things, all along,” Thelar said bitterly. “I was so certain, once I felt the Goddess, that the queen had the right of it. That we had to act in secret. But I’ve started to see what the secrets have wrought. The signs have been there, and I kept pretending I didn’t see them.” His voice trailed off and his expression soured. “You’ve always hated me,” he snapped. “You look like you’re just waiting for an excuse.”

  Rylin’s first thought was to confirm that, but there seemed no point. “I’m really waiting for something else,” he said.

  Thelar looked t
he faintest bit curious. “And what’s that?”

  “First tell me why you pulled me in here rather than exposing me.”

  “I’m trying to figure out what to do,” Thelar admitted. “After the queen raced out of here I tried talking to Tesra, but she’s one of the ones Synahla altered.”

  “Altered how?”

  “She won’t believe any bad news about the queen, or her plans. She used to question more than I did.”

  Rylin had come pretty close to being manipulated by Synahla himself. He hoped Tesra’s transformation wasn’t permanent. But this wasn’t the time to worry about that. “Do you know what your queen did to the squires after Varama and I fled?” Rylin waited only briefly before answering his own question. “Every morning we’d wake up and find a couple more of them dead. Turned to bits of crystal while they slept. That’s what she did to Lasren and the councilors.”

  Thelar groaned as if he himself had taken a blow. “What are you waiting for?” he asked softly. “Get it over with.”

  “I’m waiting,” he said, slowly, uncomfortable with both his words and his sentiment, “to see if you’re an ally. They’re in short supply.”

  “An ally for what?” Thelar looked up cautiously.

  “I’ve got to stop her.”

  “By yourself? Even with me it’s impossible. Do you know how powerful she is?”

  “I have an inkling.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “I’m going to let the queen say her piece so everyone can hear how crazy she sounds, and then when she finishes I’m going to arrest her.”

  “It’s not possible,” Thelar repeated. “She’s surrounded by exalts.”

  “She has to be stopped.”

  Thelar breathed out through his teeth, then spoke slowly. “After she shares her prayer, the queen’s going to start opening the stones. Even with the exalts and the aspirants it’s going to take a while, and a lot of focus. I suppose that might be time to try something.”

  “When she has all of those stones open?” Rylin asked.

  “That will be too late. I mean right as she starts.”

  He wished Varama was with him. She would know what to do. “Are there any other exalts you can talk sense into? What about those twins you had me fight?”

  “Meria and M’vai? I don’t know. I’ve occasionally heard some of the exalts express doubts, but I don’t think you ought to expect them to help you arrest the queen.”

  “I don’t think she’s really going to allow me to arrest her,” Rylin said, wondering if his newfound ally would balk at more severe action.

  “I know.”

  “And you’ll back me?”

  Thelar hesitated, then nodded, his eyes bleak. “Yes. How bad was it in Alantris, really? Do you think the people have a chance?”

  Never, in all the years he’d known Thelar, had he seen him so open. So vulnerable. He knew the truth would hurt, but he shared it. “It’s bad. Varama’s in there making things difficult for the Naor but a lot of people are dead, and more are probably going to die. You have family there, don’t you?”

  His voice was heavy with anger and regret. “All of my family’s in Alantris, Rylin.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and meant it.

  He reached into a belt pouch without giving himself time to question his decision, and came out with his hand closed around the object he’d found inside. “I went by the Altenerai offices. I linked all the rings and took them with me. Synahla couldn’t break through when she attacked, even with a hearthstone shard.”

  “What happened to her? Oh.”

  Rylin nodded.

  “You held off a hearthstone shard with linked rings? That’s pretty clever.”

  “The rings won’t shield us from a concentrated attack, but if we can strike fast…” He hesitated to use the famous Altenerai battle cry, then decided it fit, perfectly. “… if we strike as one, we may get past their defenses.” Rylin opened his hand to reveal an Altenerai ring. One he thought would fit. Probably Asrahn’s. “You should wear this.”

  Thelar looked down at the ring in the palm of Rylin’s hand, then back up. He was clearly startled.

  To blunt the delicacy of the moment, Rylin spoke casually. “It’s linked to the same network of rings. As long as we’re within a few feet of each other I think we’ll both be protected by all of them.”

  Thelar, too, pretended this was only the acceptance of a tool, and not the borrowing of a sacred symbol from a guardian order in which he’d once fervently sought membership. Probably, at some level, he still desired it. He spoke with quiet dignity. “Thank you, Rylin. I’ll guard it well, and strive to prove worthy of its heritage.” He eyed the ring reverently as he lifted it from Rylin, then slipped it onto the ring finger of his right hand.

  Rylin made sure he didn’t sound critical as he spoke. “Do those ruby rings you exalts wear do anything?”

  “They’re similar. Honestly, they’re not as good. Synahla was working on improving them. But I’ll link my ruby to your defensive screen. Every little bit helps.” He cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have cheated against you.”

  “What?”

  “In the duel. With the twins,” Thelar added, seeing Rylin’s blank look.

  “Oh. “

  “You were just so cocky. Like you owned the world and were set on kicking me out of it.”

  He supposed he had been. That entire moment felt like it had happened to another man.

  “But I acted without honor, and, worse, set a bad example for my charges. It’s bothered me ever since.”

  “Whatever lay between us is behind,” Rylin said. “We can only succeed if we stand as one.”

  From somewhere far away trumpets sounded. Both men stilled as the fanfare continued, and then musicians struck up a tune. Not, Rylin noticed, anything Altenerai related, as was usually heard within the space, but something new. She’d probably commissioned it recently.

  “Come on.” Thelar rose. “I think we can monitor best from one of the boxes. All the exalts and aspirants will be in the stage wings, or up there with her.”

  “Won’t they be wondering where you are?”

  “They’re probably wondering where Synahla is, too. But don’t the actors always say that the curtain must rise regardless?”

  Rylin nodded. He thought he probably knew the arena at least as well as his new ally, but allowed Thelar to precede him through the narrow back hallways. They paused as someone ran down an intersecting corridor bearing a tightly wound scroll, then preceded around a corner and slipped into a small audience box. As they did so, applause echoed through the stadium, louder than a thunderstorm, and Rylin looked out on a sea of heads, young and old. He recalled that venue’s capacity was almost fifty thousand, to accommodate visitors from out of town coming to the games. The static population of the city was somewhere in the thirty thousands, and it looked to him like most of them were there.

  The far end of the stadium had been closed off by a huge black curtain, so that the remaining three quarters of arena had good views of a raised platform extending out from the curtain: a stage.

  The queen had stepped onto center stage as the musicians retreated to the wings with their trumpets and drums. She was garbed in a flowing green gown with wide sleeves, and her long hair was bound high in a swirling emerald tiara. She looked vibrant and crisp and slim and lovely, waving regally to the assembled cheering crowd. Behind her in two long half-circle lines were the exalts, and white-shirted aspirants. The huge curtain backed them all.

  As the queen raised her hands for silence, Rylin kept to the shadows of the box so as not to draw attention to himself. Thelar did the same.

  The crowd quieted, and the queen spoke, her voice confident, even joyful, magically amplified. The opening words were almost identical to those he’d read in her chambers.

  “My people, I am grateful for your love and support. I know that there are some among you who have wondered about my long absence from public life
. I regret that I have had to be apart from you for so very long. I want you to know that I would never have made such choices if I had not had good reason. It was my love for you that kept me closeted away.”

  She paused, then continued in a more serious tone. “We are under grave threat from many quarters, you see. My loyal exalts have risked their lives to put a permanent end to those threats, and many have died for their efforts, and their glory has been unknown, for it had to be done in secret, lest you be alarmed about the dangers on every hand.”

  Only “the exalts,” Rylin noted, knowing that Altenerai had fought and died for the accursed stones as well. And some who’d been sent after them had never returned, like Renik.

  Murmurs rose from the crowd, but she raised a hand and they stilled. “You needn’t worry! A time of prosperity lies before us. We are shortly to walk the streets of paradise.” She encompassed the crowd with her hands. “Yes, my people, paradise lies before us all. The true goddess is nearly here. With the aid of magical artifacts my loyal exalts have recovered, we shall summon a new age.”

  The queen continued. “There shall be no more war. Old age and death will no longer await us, and those lost to us will live again!” She beamed at this, perhaps expecting applause. The audience only looked back blankly, confused or even alarmed. The queen pressed on. “The Naor, the kobalin, and terrible predators from The Shifting Lands will no longer threaten us, for we shall be one with the great goddess, who will finally oversee our realms as was meant from time immemorial.”

  Low talk spread through the stands. Rylin saw heads turning and even those who weren’t asking those nearby what was underway traded looks of consternation.

  “Is this the sort of thing she used to say to you?” Rylin asked his companion.

  “Yes. But I swear to you, Rylin. You can feel the presence of the Goddess in the stones and when you do this all makes more sense.”

  The queen spoke on. “What I am doing will not be easy, and it comes at great personal risk to myself and my most loyal allies. But I do it for you. Behold, the one true goddess!” She pointed with both hands to the stage rear.