Singer's Sword

by Cassandra Boyson

The room was actually silent. Hazel closed her eyes. But, swiftly, she opened them again, as if it were a mere blink. She would stand her ground… or sit her seat.

  “When he saw that,” Dianna continued with a half-smile, “he decided it was safer to keep his enemies close, to keep watch over you the whole of your life, waiting for the day you would emerge his foe, that he might deal with you swiftly.”

  At that moment, Hazel wished more than ever that her parents had not abandoned her when they’d been banished into the ruddy kingdom, the Deep South, which lay beyond the southern tribes. It was known for its savage people and was the number one enemy of Kierelia. She had always told herself they thought she’d be safer in Kierelia than in such a land… but it was difficult to feel convinced of it just now. Now, she understood the purpose of her welcome in Castlehaven and the revelation induced the intended result. She felt like scum. She couldn’t catch her breath. She was falling through the floor.

  But she stayed her seat.

  4

  "My turn,” Hazel returned, blood boiling under her skin.

  Something shifted in her. She squared her shoulders on Dianna, who glared back with a dark smile. But Hazel perceived the girl’s surprise that she had not raced from the room. She also noted that no one had laughed, revealing they were either too stunned by the revelation or even they thought Dianna had gone too far.

  “Dianna would have us believe she is the delight of all who behold her,” Hazel began in quiet fury, “that she is proud and self-assured. But I once overheard her sobbing to her mother, ‘Oh, why does Armond not love me as he should?’”

  Hazel sat back in her chair to survey her effect. No one had ever done such a thing to Dianna before, in the game or otherwise. People feared her as much as they worked to convince themselves they liked her.

  “The truth is,” Hazel continued suddenly, “no one really likes you… and you know it.” It was a sudden revelation. “They’re afraid of you.”

  The red-faced Dianna leaped to her feet and shoved her finger in Hazel’s face. “How dare you of all people—worthless and unloved as you are—speak to me as if I am anything as despised and pathetic as you.”

  “Now, now, now,” Armond butted in, drawing Dianna back by the hand that had been about to strike Hazel across the face. “It is only fair, you know. It is the game. You’ve had your turn; she’s had hers. Let us move on, shall we? Perhaps this really ought not to be played anymore.”

  Dianna turned to him with flashing eyes, as if he had just dealt the real blow of the morning. She spun from him to face her friends, thrashing the velvet sack across the room. “Well, I never…” she sputtered as she took each of her ladies by the arms and led them from the room.

  The three who remained stared after them.

  “I suppose… this means I won?” Armond said humorlessly. Turning to Hazel, he added, “Or we might share the win.”

  It was not meant as a rebuke, merely something to say—the truth. But it made Hazel stand miserably from her seat. “I don't care for winning this game,” she said with something like a sob, feeling lower than low.

  “Nor I,” he replied with understanding. “We shall both be wiser in future, I suppose. Affrontery is a senseless pastime.”

  But Hazel had no say in whether she played or not. If they should go to Lady Nora, she must. And she couldn’t hide from her guardian any more than she already did.

  * * *

  Hazel raced through corridors, taking care to avoid Lady Nora. She resisted the urge to fling wide the door to her tower, instead checking the hall before softly opening and closing it behind her. It was the window nook into which she threw herself as she crumbled into a pile of tears.

  Could it be true the king viewed her as an enemy—had decided so from the moment he’d gazed upon her child-face? There was every chance Dianna had been lying in an effort to heap misery upon an already dissatisfied life. Problem was, the knowledge of this story only made everything about her life make more sense. She’d been told it was an honor to be made a ward of the king’s sister… but that sister did not conceal her cruelty. The king had to be aware Hazel was not gently treated, yet he paid no heed. And why should he, if, rather than her caretaker, Lady Nora had been assigned her jailor? If Hazel knew Dianna, the story would be all over the castle before day’s end. The moment she arrived in the banquet hall that evening, the murmurs would begin. “There goes Hazel, the king’s prisoner.”

  Fresh sobs rang through her, but it was from more than this revelation. She had played the very game she so despised and she’d reaped no winner’s reward. She felt twisted and hollow inside. She’d always been able to read others like a book, to understand what they felt, their fears, what they worked to conceal. She’d never dreamed she’d use that intuition to cause someone pain.

  Why had Dianna waged this war on her? Why did she loathe Hazel so? Surely, she had much more going on in her life than to think of ways to harm her? Yet, for years, she’d taken a special interest in Hazel. Of late, it had been more like torment.

  “My dearest girl,” a voice sounded behind her, “whatever is the matter?”

  She shot up from her windowsill to face the intruder.

  “Prophet?” she gasped, batting tears from her face. “You’re back.” Cheer nearly reached her until a thought occurred to her. “How did you find me here?”

  His eyes sparkled as he tapped his head. “This head knows many things it oughtn’t.”

  She grinned back. That was enough when one was speaking to him. And she wasn’t likely to receive more anyway. Her grin grew as she surveyed the oversized brown garments he wore, the very ones he never seemed to change from no matter whose company he kept. Nor was his long white beard ever trimmed. He cared not for the estimation of others and she loved him for it.

  “I suppose you won’t tell anyone about my tower… will you?” she asked.

  “I should say not. A turret like this would lose all its charm if it were uncovered to all. Now, you were sobbing and I am longing to know just why.” He offered her a seat upon her own nook, then sat beside her.

  “I-I’ve been cruel,” she forced out, unable to say more.

  “As difficult as I find that to believe, I think it must be so, else you would not be so broken up. But I will say, it is that very brokenness that makes you of such value to the Great Entity. And it is why everything will be all right.”

  She pulled a kerchief from his pocket and asked, “But why should I be of any value to a god?” Especially when I am of no value to anyone else.

  “Oh, I think the stuff you are built from could make you of more value to a great many more than you realize.”

  She grew quiet. Wouldn’t the stuff she was built from be her parents, the infamous traitors? Or did he mean something else?

  “Now, back to this cruelty business,” he said. “You’ve looked yourself in the mirror and faced your wrong-doing. It is noble that you have done so. Repentance is as valuable as water in the desert.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  “Well… where have you come from this time?” she asked, desiring to change the subject.

  He raised his brows with intrigue. “If I told you, I would have to have you imprisoned.”

  That jest cut deeper than he’d intended due to the recent revelation, but she brushed it aside. “Then I beg you will not,” she said with a small smile. “What has brought you back to us?”

  “The Great Entity, whom I serve with my life, sent me. I have yet to discover just why. Even so, it is always pleasant to come and see my favorite young lady.”

  “Prophet,” she said almost scolding. She would never understand why he was so kind.

  “Don’t ‘prophet’ me, Lady Hazel. Can I help it if you are the most unaffected person I know? Indeed, you have been baptized in the fires of life and grown-up shining.”

  Hazel chewed her lip. “I… wish others saw me as you do. I think there must be something wrong
with you.”

  “Oh, there are many things wrong with me, but being fond of you is not one of them. I simply see through a vein of experience others have not been afforded. In the end, considering you as anything less than a diamond signifies there is something wrong with everyone else.”

  * * *

  Hazel had not been wrong. Her entrance into the banquet hall induced a quiet stir, but on the arm of the prophet, she found she could bear it. Moreover, she knew the prophet’s presence was part of that stir, especially as he was the one escorting her. She gripped his arm in the least ladylike fashion imaginable, but he merely patted her hand with care.

  Upon being seated, she found Dianna was across from her. For the first few courses, the girl acted as if she hadn’t noticed Hazel. But about halfway through, Hazel sensed eyes on her and glanced up in time to find that dreadful grin. As Hazel well knew, a Dianna smile was not a happy one. It was scheming. Hazel dreaded what this one might mean. After all, she’d mortified Dianna as none had before.

  She began to feel she was in the clear when the meal concluded and most everyone retired to the entertaining room. Considering the gossip she knew was going around about her, the evening had been surprisingly painless. As usual, she selected the most comfortable chair in the darkest corner and opened the book she’d been carrying in the concealed pocket of her skirts.

  Before delving in, she offered the room a final glance. Armond and Theo laughed at something Stacia said. Lady Nora entertained a group of noblewomen. There was a good chance she was complaining about her young ward… or captive, everyone knew now. Most intriguing of all, however, were the king and prophet huddled together on the far side of the room, discussing something both private and upsetting, if the prophet’s face had anything to say about it. She might even have conjectured he was harboring disapproval toward the king, possibly chastising him as a father would. She would dearly have liked to know what was discussed, but as that was out of the question, she began her reading.

  It was three piano recitals and two vocal performances later when she overheard her own name being discussed by a set of ladies mostly unknown to her.

  “But isn’t it dangerous for the king to keep the Lady Hazel about when she is… what she is?”

  Hazel’s stomach turned and she gripped the edges of her book as if begging them to absorb her into them.

  “Of course it is, but he is a man of wisdom. One can only imagine he has prepared for what might arise. And after all, you’ve seen the girl. She is sickly in appearance. I cannot envision her accomplishing much against such a king.”

  With laughter, they moved on, but Hazel’s reading had been spoiled. She glanced up to find Dianna’s smile on her again. Had she heard what had been discussed? Likely not, but anyone could guess. This was proof that what Dianna had spread was on the tip of every tongue in the room. More than ever, Hazel was grateful she had moved her chair into the shadows where few would notice her… unless they specifically searched her out.

  “Hazel, foolish girl, there you are,” Lady Nora chimed as if on cue. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Why did you not consult with me before adding your name to the list of performers this evening? Really, I cannot tell you what poor timing this is to be putting yourself forward. And yet, they are now summoning you, so I’ve no time to resolve the matter.”

  Hazel’s mouth dropped open. “L-lady Nora… I did not put my name on that list. Surely, you must know that.”

  “Know that? Know that? Why ever should I when your name is there clear as day? Now, come along.”

  Hazel yanked against the hand that wrenched her. “My lady, I beg you… I have no desire to perform.”

  Indeed, from the moment Lady Nora had discovered that her ward possessed some talent in singing, she had worked to press her into the spotlight on a number of occasions, likely hoping some gentleman would come along and take Hazel off her hands. But from the first instance Hazel had been compelled to do so, she’d learned to hate it. She’d been scarcely able to open her mouth, let alone remain standing before a crowd of eyes who already disapproved of her. She’d run and never again relented to her guardian’s urging.

  “Are you really going to heap shame upon shame, girl? I will not allow you to humiliate me yet again. You will perform. I command it.”

  Lady Nora continued to drag her unwilling ward through the crowd of those who chittered on about her even as she moved among them. Of all evenings to attempt another performance, this was the absolute worst. How on the planet Kaern had her name ended up on that wretched list?

  “I must wish you good luck,” Dianna whispered as she sidled Hazel with something like a hug. “I’m sure you will do wonderfully.” Her brow flew severely high and Hazel received the answer to her question. This was Dianna’s idea of revenge.

  She’d done well.

  Heaping humiliation, all the room watched her, their whisperings rising to a crescendo until she was nauseated.

  “Oh, Lady Nora, please,” she begged quietly, near tears now. “I know as well as you do what is being spoken of me this evening. Please, make my excuses. Just… say I am ill!”

  The woman appeared surprised but said calmly, “Then you know how important it is you perform well. Perhaps you might just manage to lift some of the disgrace you have cast on my household.” With that, the woman abandoned her, though she remained near enough to keep an eye on her prisoner.

  Never in her life had Hazel felt so at the end of her rope. It was an unbearable moment. The pianist began and she worked to keep herself from losing her dinner on the crowd. She missed her cue. The pianist began again, louder this time, annoyed. Impossibly, Hazel caught it the second time around, ringing out a long, tremulous note that nearly silenced the crowd.

  It was a curious thing that, at the very end of her rope, dwelt a relief from caring what these awful people thought of her. The fear dissipated. But it was well Dianna had selected a song about rejected love, for she felt tears racing down her cheeks. Still, her voice grew stronger—stronger still when she found the prophet watching on from his corner with the king. He was both concerned and gratified. She was performing well. How could she have known that at her breaking point, she would find a new kind of strength? Yet, with it dwelled every moment of heartbreak throughout the years and it poured into her song.

  It was then Dianna stole Armond by the arm and guided him through the room until he was standing before Hazel. Her voice stumbled a moment before catching the pureness of the melody again. He did not appear to understand the cruel girl’s purpose, instead looking upon the performer with an expression that reminded of the prophet’s.

  It was at this point that two things occurred. Hazel’s blood seared under her skin, frightening and strengthening at once. But almost at the same time, Armond began to rise… into the air. So gracefully did he float that he did not take notice. But at the moment Hazel’s voice pierced the atmosphere with her clearest soprano, he soared toward the ceiling with a yelp. All the room gasped and shouted. The instant Hazel’s note cut short, he dropped.

  From the center of her soul, she knew what was to be done. She sang out again, cradling him in the arms of her high C just before he hit the floor. Gently, she laid him upon the floor. The room backed away from him, then turned to Hazel… and backed away from her.

  The next moment, the prophet was beside her, racing her through the crowd and from the room.

  “P-rophet, what just happened? I didn’t…”

  “You did, my girl.”

  “Hazel!” Lady Nora shouted as she stormed after them. “What on Kaern was that demonic spectacle? Is that what you’ve been doing behind my back?! Consorting with the dark arts?”

  The prophet stood between them, an action Hazel would never in her life forget. Neither would Lady Nora, by the looks of her. “Good woman,” he said, “I think you must take a moment to regain your composure before throwing accusations of that kind around about this young lady who is, after all, meant to
be under your care and protection.”

  Somehow, his words reached the lady. After blinking back at him several times, she said calmly, “Come along, Lady Hazel. We must get you away before that crowd decides to storm after us.”

  Utterly disoriented, Hazel searched the prophet’s face for an answer, but he offered nothing and she was made to follow. The entire march through the castle, not a word was spoken to her. There was no more questioning, no scolding. When they reached the door to her bedchamber, Lady Nora merely opened the door and ushered her inside.

  “You will remain here until we discover what might be done.” With that, she turned on her heel and closed the door. Hazel believed the change in her guardian was true to heart until she heard the lock turn from the outside. The woman was as constant as ever.

  In the quiet of the room that followed the turning of the key, Hazel stood frozen, left to consider what could be wrong with her? The prophet had assured it was her who had performed that awful feat. But how? What if poor Armond had soared through the ceiling and been killed. She dropped upon her bed. How she hated to be left alone without a single answer, no one to speak her racing fears to.

  After a time, she realized no one would come either to or for her that evening, so she changed into her nightdress and pulled herself under the coverlet. Sleep felt impossible at that moment, yet it was not long before she found herself in dreams.

  A yip sounded from her lips as she was ripped to consciousness by the sight of Dianna hurled against the ceiling of the entertainment hall, her lifeless body hitting the ground with a splat. Hazel had never been so grateful for the soft bedsheets beneath her, but she threw them off and sprang to her feet. She would do no more sleeping this night. The nightmares promised more woe than her waking thoughts. Gazing to the large set of windows at the wall, she observed what a bright, starry night it was. It was warm, too—warmer than it had been in the evening for some time.

  Kneeling before the window, she rested her arms upon the sill. It was then the chapel bells began to chime, informing her it was mid of night. She’d been correct in thinking no one would seek her that evening. It was like her guardian to make them wait until morning when Hazel longed to come to an understanding of what had occurred as soon as humanly possible.