When the Goddess Wakes

by Howard Andrew Jones

  The Throne of the Queen

  Elenai would vastly have preferred a long quiet jog around the city walls, or a ride through the countryside. Instead, a meeting with the councilor and Vannek loomed, and she couldn’t feel less ready. She excused herself to wash up while she sorted through the jarring events of the last hour.

  Foremost in her mind was Nerissa’s blindness to reason. Even if she wasn’t aware of the lies and murders the queen had suborned, how could the exalt have thought it a moral choice to kill noncombatants? Had she been born that twisted, or had something warped her so that she believed all who lacked her perspective deserving of death? What could be done with those who shared that viewpoint? Would the imprisoned exalts and aspirants be just as intransigent, just as recklessly destructive?

  When she finished washing, she stared hard into the mirror. These were among the many impossible problems that others would look to her to solve, and she wondered that anyone thought her suited to sit the throne when someone nearby was clearly better. N’lahr time and again set everything on the right course. He knew not only what steps to take, but the precise moment to act. She doubted she would ever hone her instincts so finely, no matter how much experience she gained. Just as she would never match Kyrkenall’s deadly proficiency, shooting a moving target through a pane of glass at an angle from at least a hundred paces out. It was practically unbelievable. Because of those two, they’d lost only one misguided exalt, beyond the three squires perished at Nerissa’s hand.

  When she emerged from her quarters N’lahr was waiting for her.

  “I understand Councilor Brevahn will be joining our meeting,” he said.

  The commander seemed to learn everything. “Yes.”

  “Brevahn has asked for a moment alone before the general turns up, but I hope you won’t mind me accompanying you.”

  “I welcome it.”

  “Good,” he said. She fell in step with him and they moved toward the main stairs. “I had hoped we could begin our relationship with the Naor general on a simpler footing,” he continued. “General Vannek will be wanting reassurance and you must not let Brevahn interfere.”

  Reassurance? “We gave our word,” she said.

  “They’re Naor,” the commander reminded her. “Oaths for them can only be relied upon to the extent they can be enforced or incentivized.”

  “What makes you think Councilor Brevahn will interfere?”

  “He’ll be focused on controlling the Naor as a threat, not on nurturing an alliance against a greater threat.”

  Of course. The council had plentiful reasons to support the choice of a new queen, but only a few Altenerai knew the true danger Leonara still posed.

  They passed the duty desk, returning the salute from third-ranker Welahn as he stood at attention. Like so many, he’d fought with distinction and was deserving of commendation and possibly promotion. Elenai glanced at N’lahr as they moved on. “I’ve been meaning to ask, sir,” she said, surprised at how in her nervousness she was switching to more formal address.

  N’lahr looked at her sidelong, arching an eyebrow.

  “I’d like to recommend Elik for a promotion. As well as Derahd.”

  “I already promoted Elik to the sixth rank,” N’lahr said.

  “Oh. Where did you send him last night?”

  “To organize the dispatch of mounts along the Darassan Way.”

  N’lahr didn’t explain the obvious—much of the Darassan army had been dispatched to Alantris. He wanted its cavalry returned as soon as possible to monitor their Naor allies, and to speed their progress had put someone competent in charge of arranging fresher horses along their route.

  N’lahr returned to the central topic. “Submit the names of others you wish to recommend for promotion or commendation to Squire Welahn. I’ve made him secretary for now. We’ll be pressed for time. You may want to dictate letters.”

  Elenai was flabbergasted by the realization that as an alten she could, indeed, dictate to a squire rather than struggle with ink stains on her fingers and drips on her parchment.

  “You’re so good at this.” She sighed. “How do you always know the right path?”

  N’lahr favored her with a brief smile. “I had wise counsel. I will do my best to provide the same to you.”

  She nodded her thanks, deciding against reiterating he would be better with the crown. “There’s one other thing I’ve been curious about,” she said, as they headed deeper into the palace. She wanted to ask how he was feeling, whether he’d had any more ill effects of his years of hearthstone imprisonment.

  “What’s that?”

  She decided not to pry about that subject, and turned to another. “Where are the other three sixth rankers?”

  “Oradai remains in command in Ekhem. Enada left the other two to safeguard Kanesh when she rode for Alantris with most of the realm’s cavalry.”

  Those choices made sense. The Naor frequently probed the border of Kanesh. She imagined all three of the officers would forever regret not participating in the recent battles, just as sure as she knew any veterans would tell them they should count themselves fortunate.

  Brevahn sat in the morning room, aptly named for the wide windows looking east over a garden resplendent with bright rows of yellow and red tulips. He rose from his amber-shaded chair and bowed. Elenai opted on a formal inclination of her head, as she’d seen queens in stage plays do.

  Brevahn wore loose dark pants tucked into buffed black boots, and a long-sleeved beige shirt. He’d carefully brushed his dark, gray-streaked hair, trimmed to the nape of his neck. Though his light brown eyes were bagged from lack of sleep or an excess of worry, they were piercingly alert.

  “Ah, Alten Elenai,” he said. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

  “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.” Elenai wasn’t sure how to explain the averted hostage crisis upstairs.

  “I’m sure there are many pressing concerns.” Brevahn gave his attention to N’lahr, apparently untroubled by his presence. “Commander, let me commend you upon engineering our victory yesterday. I shall never forget your arrival, a miracle from beyond the grave. Your orders were clear, clever, and certain. You saved the city. You saved our people.”

  N’lahr accepted the praise with a grave nod. “That is kind. The day was won through a thousand different decisions and sacrifices made by its defenders.”

  “Of course. But you would be blamed if the defense had failed and you should accept credit for its success.”

  “I will allow some.” N’lahr smoothly changed subjects. “You posted charges against Alten Kyrkenall, and I’m aware of pending charges against both Alten Rylin and Alten Varama. I hope the council will see fit to dropping those immediately.”

  “Ah. Yes. We received the letters of testimony you sealed with Governor Verena in Arappa. Very compelling. A floor discussion was scheduled for later this week, but as the charges were approved in their current state by a full quorum of the city council, we really need a majority of twelve to rescind them.” He turned up his hands. “We only have three surviving members.”

  He continued in a more conciliatory tone. “I’m confident my remaining colleagues will agree to withdrawal, and that a new council could be seated in a matter of weeks with a queen’s support.” He checked Elenai for reaction, then, finding none, he smoothly proceeded. “But there’s really no danger. No one would dare enforce any order against heroes of the realms in this climate.”

  “I understand,” N’lahr said, “but I’d like you to prioritize an announcement of intent today.”

  Brevahn chuckled. “I think in this instance the government can be counted upon to act immediately. Now if you don’t mind discussion of the Naor problem before us, I’ve arranged for Alten Elenai to meet the general in the Receiving Room. But I rather thought she’d be wearing something regal.”

  She hadn’t considered dressing differently for this occasion. “They surrendered to her in this uniform,” N’lahr said
before Elenai could register much embarrassment.

  Brevahn considered that for a long moment. “I see your point. They might expect a martial look for our new ruler.”

  “I’m not the queen.” Elenai wondered why she should have to make this clear. “And I don’t think I should be representing myself as such under current circumstances.”

  “The swearing-in is another formality that we must discuss,” Brevahn said. “A pity events necessitate a more hastily arranged affair, but—”

  “Being sworn in is more than formality,” Elenai said, surprised by her own ire. “There’s a reason it’s considered a sacred ceremony. The throne’s a tremendous responsibility lent to the ruler by the people. Assuming it cannot be rushed.”

  Brevahn smiled. “Your reasoning speaks well of your understanding of the responsibility. But we need an appropriate show of strength and stability before these barbarians.”

  “This isn’t a time for subtlety, Alten Elenai,” N’lahr said. “The Naor swore allegiance to you. They need to see that you hold power.”

  Elenai managed not to sigh. “Very well.” She didn’t care to be maneuvered against her instincts, but Kyrkenall had advised her to act as a ruler, and she was fairly certain she could depend upon N’lahr’s counsel. Brevahn was another matter.

  “For how much longer do you intend to remain in the Altenerai ranks?” The councilor asked politely.

  She’d been dreading that question, and her response was sharper than she intended. “I’ve no intention of leaving until the current crisis is resolved. Perhaps not even then.”

  “I’m not sure that’s appropriate,” the councilor said.

  “That’s a discussion for another time,” Elenai insisted, firmly polite.

  Brevahn inclined his head ever so slightly, then ably shifted to a different topic. “As to these Naor, they need to be escorted from our land as quickly as possible. I understand that they’re under watch, but even if the bulk remain in their camp, a few could slip into Darassus some nightfall and do any number of terrible things. We must keep the people safe. So, how can we organize their exodus?”

  Elenai looked to N’lahr for guidance. He nodded once, imperceptibly, as if she knew how to answer.

  After a brief hesitation, she supposed that she did. “We can’t risk a confrontation with the Naor before our army returns from Alantris, and that’s several days from now. We have to keep the Naor close, because we may need their help against the queen.”

  Brevahn’s brows rose. “You’re joking.” He looked to N’lahr. “She’s joking, isn’t she?”

  “Not in the least,” N’lahr replied.

  “You’d send Naor against our own queen? That smacks of … well, it doesn’t seem appropriate. Can’t the Altenerai simply arrest her?”

  “That’s what we’d prefer, but it won’t be easy,” Elenai said. “The queen has most of the hearthstones.” Belatedly Elenai realized he might not have been briefed on the artifacts. “You’re aware of those?”

  “I’ve been informed. They’re a kind of magical energy source.” Again he looked to N’lahr.

  “There’s more to it than that,” Elenai continued. “Those hearthstones the queen took had been stabilizing our realms and without them the storms are stronger and the lands are weakening. She plans to assemble the hearthstones in a certain order, then activate them; the queen and her followers believe that will summon an old goddess to remake the realms in a perfected state, but we think she’s going to trigger a huge magical backlash—one so powerful it will destroy the realms.”

  “You’re serious?” Brevahn’s voice rose in consternation. “I knew the queen was slipping into some sort of nonconventional religious zealotry, but you’re suggesting she’s completely lost her mind.”

  “She has lost her mind,” Elenai said.

  Brevahn’s poise had been shattered. His intent shifted, finally, from the Naor. “What are you doing to stop this madness?”

  “We’re trying to learn where she’s gone,” Elenai answered. “As soon as we know, we’ll stop her.”

  Brevahn stared a moment longer. “This explains why you’re less focused on containing the Naor.”

  “We can provide more details to you and the other councilors later today,” Elenai suggested.

  “That would be wise,” Brevahn agreed. “If the Naor must remain, then surely there are some steps you mean to take to protect our people from them.”

  “Until the army returns, careful diplomacy is the best way to keep them in line,” Elenai said.

  “You’re going to count upon the Naor to protect us from themselves?” Brevahn sounded as though Elenai had gone as mad as the queen.

  “Essentially, yes.”

  Brevahn again checked with N’lahr. He indicated Elenai with a shift of his hand.

  “Councilor, we’re not going to take anything for granted,” she explained. “We’ll watch them carefully. But we believe the Naor leader will have every reason to stay in our good graces.”

  “And why would that be?”

  Elenai had doubts of her own about that, but answered him confidently. “The Naor have sworn allegiance. They will be loyal so long as we lead them to victories.”

  “Alten Elenai will reinforce that they must follow our laws to follow her,” N’lahr added.

  Brevahn pressed his lips into a thin line. “This is a dangerous experiment, for dangerous times. I will not oppose your efforts, at least for now. But I won’t be the only one losing sleep with those murderers at our gates, and it’s only a matter of time before some incident shatters what little peace is left.”

  “We will act with care, but with speed,” Elenai assured him. She gestured toward the door. “Shall we be on with it?”

  Brevahn did not move. “We’ve yet to discuss when you’ll be sworn in.” He held up a hand as she started to object. “I realize that many matters demand attention, but that is precisely why I feel your coronation should be sooner rather than later. We need the succession settled.”

  Elenai wasn’t sure how to answer, so prevaricated. “Perhaps when the matter with the queen is resolved.” That, at least, would buy her time to act as queen until the danger was over, and then step aside.

  “That leaves too nebulous a time course,” Brevahn objected. “What if the efforts against Queen Leonara stretch on for longer than you anticipate? The government cannot long function without properly appointed officeholders.”

  Much as she disliked his reasoning, Elenai understood that Brevahn was fundamentally correct. She wasn’t sure how to answer. Fortunately, N’lahr stepped in.

  “Wisely said,” the commander replied. “And something to discuss, soon. But not at this juncture.”

  “Let us make plans later today. But for now, you’re right—we should see to the Naor.” The councilor motioned her to precede him.

  She entered the receiving room through a door hidden behind a curtain slightly ahead of the raised dais holding a single chair of dark wood. Two attendants were unrolling a blue carpet from the foot of the dais to the double doors sixty feet on. Blue curtains slashed with gold hung along either side of the narrow room.

  N’lahr had briefly excused himself, but the councilor remained beside her as she contemplated her future. Elenai had seen the chamber, and this chair, but never supposed she’d sit in it. Its back was straight, with embroidered azure cushions and golden arms that flared as they swept forward.

  She walked to its side. This, she thought, has come too easily, and I’ve accepted it with too little question. How soon did she want to step down from the Altenerai? Never? Altenara had led her warriors and remained queen, so there was some precedent. But then, lacking a hearthstone, perhaps it would be better to allow some more competent candidate to take her place as one of the Altenerai. She shook her head at herself. And do more of this? Already she disliked the thought of meetings with dignitaries and difficult choices like passing judgment upon aspirants and exalts.

  She would
have to worry about that later. Now the Naor had to see a ruler on the throne. She reminded herself of Asrahn’s constant advice to focus on the moment. Regardless of what she planned for the future, she had to project dignity and power to maintain the strange alliance. And while she had no experience being a ruler, long familiarity with the stage would serve her well. She had witnessed her father guide actors through the portrayal of queens, kings, and governors, coaching them to sit with dignity, listen attentively, and weigh the words of those speaking as if they didn’t know their coming lines. Think before you speak, he’d said, even if you already know the answer.

  The palace servants finished unrolling the rug and presented themselves with formal curtseys. They were calm, middle-aged women in blue gowns. One stepped forward and asked if she required anything.

  “Not just now,” Elenai answered. Feeling like a child playing dress-up, she lowered herself into the chair and bent to adjust a pant leg. She was undoing the lower hooks of her khalat so it would hang better when N’lahr returned, presenting himself with a formal bow. Kyrkenall would have somehow managed sarcasm in the action. N’lahr was deadly serious, which, for some reason, annoyed her.

  “Stop that,” she said.

  “You look as though you belong there,” he said.

  “So might anyone, seated here.”

  “No,” N’lahr said. “I don’t think so.”

  “Nor do I.” Brevahn bowed with an arm flourish. “Did you know it is customary for the Altenerai commander to be the first to bow to a new queen?”

  She remembered now, and she bowed her head in return, startled that she should play a part in reenacting the famed moment when Meraht bowed to Queen Altenara.

  “For now, during this audience, I will refer to you as Your Majesty,” Brevahn said. “Our visitor won’t understand the finer points of our politics.”

  “Understood.”

  “There’s one last thing,” N’lahr said. “We have two visitors, not one. The general’s brought an advisor: the sorcerer we fought at the Battle of Vedessus.”

  Elenai’s eyebrows rose, for she remembered that mage’s power, and how certain she’d been that one more attack from him would have finished her.