Singer's Sword

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by Cassandra Boyson


  This was something that had been whispered about as Hazel had been helping to direct things, encouraging the people to work in harmony and labor well for their future. But her intimate involvement had generated an unfortunate consequence. It had made the people wonder if perhaps a queen upon the throne would not more effectively safeguard the future she had been inspiring them toward. The moment Guardsman Gunther had relayed this talk to her had been the moment she’d told Armond it was time he had his own voice. From there, she’d stepped back as much as possible.

  Thankfully, Armond had already been contributing in unexpected ways. He was gifted with settling disputes, reminding Hazel of his old nature. He also visited the elderly, supposedly to comfort them after all that had occurred but really to garner what wisdom they offered. Furthermore, he understood much more about the dealings of soldiers, something Hazel was ill-equipped for.

  Despite this show of his capabilities, it was not in the kingdom’s best interest for her to step away completely. After all, she’d been the one working with the architect on the plans for the castle’s reconstruction, along with the other facilities. A sizable kitchen lodge had gone up first, where many could gather to be fed during their appointed shifts. The food was prepared by an unpaid staff, who were often employed all the day long. Stacia and Rebecca were among them. After trying them in a number of other duties, it was the only one that had at all suited and they began to show real promise. In fact, Hazel was quite certain they delighted in the task. After all, it was one of the few chores that rescued one from the mercies of the weather.

  Dianna was another matter. She refused to leave the room she’d been given in the future inn. This made finding a task to make use of her quite difficult, especially as Hazel refused to visit her in order to make demands. But eventually, it was discovered she possessed something of a gift with the needle. Before long, she had sewn up new clothes for nearly every refugee. Moreover, she did it more swiftly than was reasonably expected.

  In an act of desperation, Hazel appointed Dorian as her own assistant. She had very soon found herself the chief answerer of questions and solver of difficulties. Moreover, it was challenging for her to allow others to perform work she could very well do herself. But when, one day, Dorian had found her in a state of exhausted tears, he’d insisted she allow him to take on some of her duties. But not only did he become assistant to the king’s chief advisor, he got himself named the kingdom’s secondary dragon-slayer. Possessing a keen eye, he was often the first to spot danger on the horizon. Without alerting anyone, he crept off to handle matters himself. The first time he’d informed Hazel of this, she’d turned to him with annoyance.

  “How could you go off without me? What if you’d been killed? We’d never have known what had become of you!”

  He quirked a brow at her. “First of all, I don’t see why I’d take you along. Second of all, I did not find it difficult. As all else has reported, it was a smaller dragon than the one that destroyed the fortress.”

  Since she could not very well reveal her aid in the slaying of the first three, she was forced to concur with his argument. And as it was, his slaying of the four following became a matter of routine, earning him the honored title.

  By this time, hundreds of surviving Kierelians had come to live and work at the castle site. They shared food and shelter as both small and large cottages and inns were erected. And with her own hands, Hazel helped their people lay stone after stone of the new royal fortress. Before she had been forced to give it up, the matter furthered her reputation as their resolute leader. They couldn’t help but admire her for dirtying her hands beside theirs.

  To make matters worse, she’d been proclaimed their good luck charm. In fact, she’d developed a title of her own: Lady Fortune. This had arisen out of a strange occurrence. Unthinkingly, she had taken to singing as she worked, which brought joy to her listeners and helped to bide the time until day’s end. One day, she yipped, releasing a stone from her hand.

  “Was that a spark, my lady?” the woman working beside her questioned.

  Shaking her hands, Hazel nodded with a self-deprecating smile as she picked up her broken brick. It wasn’t until the following day that she endured the incident again. In fact, with nearly every slab she lay, a tiny bolt sparked between it and her fingers. Before long, she’d almost learned to disregard the occurrence. But this was not so for the workers as it was eventually considered a good omen.

  “Twill be a blessed fortress now, Lady Fortune,” they decreed.

  Over the days that followed, she realized it only occurred when she handled the old stones—the ones whole enough to be used. To add anxiety to peculiarity, it only happened when she sang or even hummed.

  Strange enough as it was, she told no one of the sensation that occurred in her own body. In time, she sensed that she was either depositing something into the bricks… or taking something out. She could never be sure. Either way, a transference occurred and it frightened her, especially when the sensation of carrying it around with her continued even after she’d given up the labor. Questioning if it had something to do with the gift she was meant to possess, she relayed her troubles to Blythe.

  “I’ve never heard it’s like from our people,” he said. “I’m afraid you, Lady Hazel, contain something unknown.”

  “Why must it be that I contain something?” she asked, both exasperated and frightened.

  He shook his head. “I cannot say, but… a spark can only emerge from within... or be making an entrance from without. I instruct you to be leery.”

  This conversation had done little good, but it had put her in mind of something she’d been meaning to discuss with Armond. She approached him later that day with, “It is in both regions’ best interest that we convince the southern tribes to join the Kierelian kingdom.”

  He looked to her in astonishment. “I cannot believe that has not occurred to me. Will you have their leaders brought before me at once?”

  Pleased, she promptly did so and sat at the back of the tent to survey her king at work.

  “Southern tribesman,” Armond began.

  A meager salutation for the leaders of a proud region but acceptable.

  “It is with great pleasure that I offer you a place under the rule of our fine Kierelian kingdom.”

  Hazel froze.

  Wyse, the leader of one of the largest tribes, spat upon the floor. “You think we will leap at the chance to place ourselves under another kingdom’s rule? Let alone one so highfaluting—”

  “Wyse,” Blythe cut him off. “We do not insult our neighboring king, no matter the provocation.”

  Armond appeared like a deer in sight of an arrow. “I-I thought you would be pleased… to become Kierelians. After all, you’ve sown so much into—”

  “Precisely,” said the third leader with a glimmer of humor. “We have helped you. Perhaps it is you who should come under our rule.”

  “Kierelians under the dominion of tribesman?” Armond asked, genuinely unsettled.

  Hazel leaped from her seat to stand beside him. “Revered leaders of the free tribes,” she said with hands folded neatly before her. “In truth, we are in great need of not only an alliance with your people but a closer bond. Already, yours and ours have established marital unions, many more have formed intimate friendships. Moreover, your protection and work ethic over these past six Kierelian seasons have been unquestionably indispensable.” She turned to Armond with, “Dare we say it?”

  His brows rose and he nodded without a hint of understanding.

  “Not only could we never have gotten where we are today,” she said, “but I do not know that we will, in the end, survive as a kingdom without you.”

  Blythe grinned at her, knowing full well that, though she meant every word, she presented the proposal rather… artfully.

  “I understand you desire both our population,” Wyse began, “and our guardianship over the border to the Deep South. But what precisely can you offer us
?”

  Hazel stole a moment to clear her throat. “It is true we already owe you so much and have promised to aid you in the rebuilding of your own lands. But you are aware that, with your land between us and the Deep South, you are just as vulnerable to them as we are. In order to take us, they will take you.”

  When the leaders appeared displeased by this turn, she continued with, “Do not misunderstand. I have heard tell of how victoriously you’ve held them at bay in the past. In fact, you’re fairly famed for it in Kierelia and the surrounding kingdoms. But there will come a day when we will need one another… quite equally. Why not rally together and merge as a united force now, that we may be thoroughly equipped when that day arrives?”

  After long looks exchanged between the leaders, Blythe stepped forward to take Hazel’s hand. “We acquiesce to your proposal, for your sake, Lady Hazel. You are our blood as well as our neighbor. Now, we are closer than neighbors. We are fellow countrymen. It appears… we are Kierelians.”

  But her rapture over the moment had been short-lived. Not long after, a gentleman dressed as peculiarly as Latos, the Realm Leader of the Greater Archipelagos, arrived to speak with her.

  Bowing low before her, he said, “My report is of a dual purpose. Firstly, I have come to make you aware that my people have, to the best of our ability, completed the promised task. Every dragon has either been slain or fled into deep hiding and not likely to be seen again for some time.”

  “Oh!” Hazel exclaimed. She had noticed the dragon sightings had diminished. “Oh, you must send my thanks to Latos. It is a fine man who will keep his word, even to the extent of keeping away from his own land for so long in order to do so.”

  He bowed his head. “That is the other matter I came to report. You see, it is why I stand before you rather than he.”

  Hazel’s stomach twisted.

  “Some weeks ago, when he felt he’d done all he could for your land, he took it upon himself to face down his foe, Sorceress Aradia.”

  “He went alone?”

  “My lady, he is the greatest warrior our people have ever seen. And when he insists upon a thing, one does not question him. That said, it is with great remorse I report that he has, in fact, been bested by the witch… that he has passed on to the world beyond.”

  Hazel’s hand went to her throat with emotion. She’d scarcely known the man, but he’d walked, spoken and acted with greatness. She mourned for his people at such a loss. Clearing her throat, she said, “Please convey our deepest sorrow to your people. He was an estimable person. I am so very sorry his end was met in the aid of our kingdom.”

  He bowed low again. “He would not have had it any other way, to be certain, Lady Hazel. I thank you for your sentiment and will pass it on to the rulers of the Greater Archipelagos.”

  After that, he lifted away atop his dragon.

  Now in her freshly-completed chambers, Hazel was caught frowning when Anna, her lady’s maid, broke into her remembrances with, “Though I imagine they’d wait all day before starting the coronation without you, it would be courteous to appear on time.”

  Hazel fully agreed, though she carefully avoided the mirror as she vacated the room. She’d been dressed as she never had before—as royally as any queen, she was sure. It made her uncomfortable, but Anna had insisted it was correct. As Hazel was one of the very few remaining nobles and was, after all, the best-loved, it was required she do her part. Thus, it was in a gleaming green gown, gold slippers and delicate, vine-like tiara that she descended the stairs.

  She knew it was self-centered to feel so anxious. After all, it was Armond’s big day and she well knew how apprehensive he was. She’d spent the whole of the prior evening bolstering his courage not only for the ceremony but his reign. In the end, it had been Dorian’s assurances that brought peace to the king nearly crowned and released them all for an evening’s rest.

  “Hazel, by the birds in the sky, you look a right vision,” Armond said with a genuine sparkle in his eyes.

  She knew her deep red blush would have utterly spoiled the effect had she not just spent the entirety of the last year under the effects of the sun. “And you look a stately king—quite regal.”

  It was clear this satisfied him as he stood all the taller. Offering his arm, he asked, “Well… are we ready?”

  “Are ‘we’ ready?” She chuckled. “This really has nothing to do with me.”

  His expression transformed. “Nothing to do with you?” He leaned in close to whisper. “I wouldn’t be here without you. Furthermore, it was quite a distinction that they requested you act as crowner.”

  Her nerves spiked again. “Thankfully, I was not asked to perform the ceremony.” As it was, an old friar from the eastern border had arrived eager to aid their new king. He was an unpretentious, elderly man who had become Armond’s assistant as Dorian had been hers. It was well he’d come to understand Armond’s weaknesses and self-doubt. But he was judicious and empathetic enough to offer wisdom without overstepping. Needless to say, he was a godsend by Hazel’s estimation and had been, by her meddling, appointed royal priest, though the kingdom had not possessed one for decades.

  “Armond, dear, I’m afraid you must release my arm and escort yourself to that other entrance,” she said

  “Oh, I’d already forgotten. And we only just rehearsed last night!” He raced for the other end of the hall.

  Chuckling to herself, Hazel was about to enter through the secondary entrance when Gunther approached.

  “We have a problem,” he said soberly.

  Her stomach turned at sight of his anxious face. “Well, what is it, man?”

  “Castlehaven is under attack.”

  “Attack?” She had to question this. She’d heard no battle sounds whatever. She did, however, begin to perceive the clopping of hooves.

  “They have not made their move as yet, but there currently resides a sizable battalion of foreign soldiers outside the castle gates, commanded by a man I do not recognize. I… surmise they may be our enemies from the Deep South.”

  Hazel felt she would drop through the floor. But then, she stopped herself. She had toiled too laboriously for this day. They all had. It was too late for anyone to turn up to take them now. She simply would not allow it.

  Marching on ahead of Gunther, she disregarded his pleas that she await the protection of a personal guard and threw open the double-doors. Her breath was immediately caught by the great legion of knights before her. But at the head of them was not a stranger from the Deep South. It was Fredrick, the wretched duke of Galfree.

  Marching up to his horse like a man weighted in armor, she threw a finger toward him and roared, “How dare you appear here after all we’ve done to pick ourselves up from the ashes only for you to steal our kingdom away from us. And on this, the coronation day. I will not have it, I tell you!”

  To her utter dismay, he responded by throwing his head back in laughter. Her face heated. She understood his amusement. What could a lone woman possibly do to stop them? But she had slain a towering dragon. She could sort any needlework catastrophe put before her. She’d learned she could produce treaties between kingdoms. This man was not yet acquainted with her tenacity.

  When at last he had composed himself, he said, “I’m afraid you harbor a misunderstanding, Lady Hazel. We are not here to prevent the coronation. Over the last year, we have been inundated with tales of how Kierelia rebuilt itself from nothing. Though already allied, our admiration for your kingdom has multiplied.

  “As it stands, after learning of rumors that the kingdom of Stlock had plans to cause trouble for your king this day, we decided it was in our best interest to attend. In other words, we are here to safeguard the coronation.”

  Chewing her lower lip, Hazel crossed her arms and stared up in bewilderment. Part of her was grateful… if his tale was true. But she was perplexed as to why he considered them allied with Galfree. Furthermore, why should he have any interest in Kierelia’s welfare after the way
he’d spoken of it when last they’d met?

  “And what business is it of yours, Sir Duke?” she questioned. For, truly, she began to realize how unusual it was that Galfree possessed such a mighty battalion. Moreover, why had they not offered to aid them when they’d truly needed it all the last year?

  He raised a severe brow despite the glimmer of good humor in his eyes. “That is crowned King Fredrick of Bashtii to you, Lady Hazel.”

  Hazel’s arms flew to her sides. “Bashtii?” Her mind raced. “I… I was of the understanding you were Duke Fredrick of Galfree.”

  He shook his head and, quite suddenly, a bright smile dawned upon his face. “When last I was here… was everyone in Castlehaven under that impression?”

  Meekly, she nodded.

  He raised his brows. “That explains a great deal. I was, at the time, Duke Fredrick… but of Bashtii. I am acquainted with this Fredrick, the duke of Galfree, and now comprehend perfectly the lack of hospitality I received here. Indeed, I do believe he was meant to pay a visit to Kierelia about the time I did but had unearthed himself a bride before his departure. I, however, arrived because my cousin, King Claros, had recently passed away. I was meant to relay this news to King Zephuel and inform him of my approaching coronation to the kingship. But I was unable to obtain a conference with him before I… took my leave.”

  Hazel shook her head in disbelief. “King Fredrick,” she began, sweeping him a deep curtsy, “I beg your pardon for the ill welcome you received on your visit. I assure you, had the king known your true identity, your stay would have been an entirely different occasion. Up to a year ago, your kingdom had been our greatest ally. We were pained that you turned your back on us in our hour of need. It is now abundantly clear as to why the friendship waned.

  “I thank you, on behalf of the kingdom, that you have taken such care to arrive at our aid this day, despite our treatment of you in past.” She hesitated a moment before, “But as things are becoming clear, I must state again that I do not understand this consideration.” Bearing in mind what ill will he had likely harbored, she half-feared it was all a ruse to storm the gates.

 

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