The Queen of Mages

by Benjamin Clayborne

Earlier

  Amira closed the door on Dardan’s stunned expression. The kiss hadn’t been that amazing, she was sure, but her betrothed had seemed to enjoy it.

  She could hardly dwell on such things. King Viktor was dead at Edon’s hand. She armored her mind against roiling emotion. Collapsing into a blubbering heap would do no one any good.

  Katin, unsurprisingly, looked about ready to explode. “We have to get out of here! Now! Tonight!” She began scrabbling at the dresser, yanking the drawers open and scooping handfuls of clothes onto the bed.

  Amira walked over to her, spun her around by the shoulder, and slapped her lightly across the face. “Calm down,” she ordered. The vala stared at her, agape. Amira pulled Katin over to the bed and sat her down. “Edon is not here. It does us no good to panic.” She let go of Katin’s hand and waited a moment to be sure the girl would not get up at once. Amira fetched water from the side table and waited until Katin drank it. “Listen to me. We’ve only just heard this news. For all we know, it’s a mistake.”

  “A mistake?” Katin all but shrieked. Amira held up a warning finger. She would not let Katin panic. “A mistake?” Katin repeated, quieter. “You know that’s absurd. What are we going to do?”

  “What can we do?” Amira sat down beside her vala. “Flee into the woods? Take a ship from Seawatch and sail for Liahn?” It felt odd being the practical one for once. Amira did not want to ever see Edon again, any more than Katin did, but it was not as simple as pulling up stakes and hightailing it for the hills.

  Amira watched her vala for a minute as the girl calmed. “We must do something,” Katin said. “I will not let you just sit here and wait for him to show up on the Tarians’ doorstep.”

  Amira sighed. “You cannot even know that he will come. Surely a king must be too busy to personally bother every woman who takes his fancy.”

  “You know bloody well it’s more than that.”

  “Fine, I admit it, but our options are limited. Should we reveal my power to the Tarians? One of the women in this room, as I recall, has repeatedly and strenuously insisted that no one can ever know.” She raised her eyebrow pointedly.

  Katin glared right back. “You must do something. Convince them that you need protection.”

  “Hm. It would be no great trick to convince Dardan. He’s head over heels. He’d challenge the king to a duel, if it came to that.”

  “And if the king has the same power you do? How would that duel turn out?” Katin’s panic had subsided, but Amira could see she was still furious. She felt her own anger rising, and went over to the washbasin. She splashed water on her face and dried it, taking time to calm herself.

  A thought struck her. “What if we had somewhere to hide?”

  ———

  She felt awful about lying to Dardan as they stood by the pool. Well, not lying outright; merely adjusting the truth a little. The result was the same, she told herself. Edon believed she had some eldritch power, and might come after her again.

  That was the only difficult part. Dardan took it from there, convincing his father that some hiding place must be prepared. Amira was surprised by his fervor. She had seen men fall over themselves for her before, but none of them had ever gone so far as to try to thwart a king.

  The next days were spent in tense waiting. Count Asmus had sent men off to try and find out more; news from the direction of Callaston was sparse. It was late in the night, six days later, when a rhythmic thumping sound woke Amira. She sat up in the dark. Her eyes had adjusted enough to make out the candle on the nightstand. Without thinking, she pushed her ember at it, and it sprang alight. She peered out the window but saw nothing unusual in the moonlight.

  The thumping came again, loud and urgent. Someone was knocking at the manor’s door.

  She had tried to avoid thinking of Edon, but he invaded her mind. Edon had already been a monster to her, and hearing that he had killed his own father made him something worse. Every night since then, she’d gone to bed wishing she’d killed Edon instead of Sir Thoriss.

  She assumed that Edon must have developed the same power she had. And he’d had two months of privacy at Gravensford to practice with it. She’d imagined him, striding into the great throne room of Elibarran, raising a hand and snuffing his father’s life out, while the queen screamed…

  The knocking stopped. Someone had probably opened the door. Perhaps she should wait until someone came to fetch her—or they might not at all. It might be nothing, some news unrelated to the king’s death, but impatience got the better of her. She went into the adjoining servant’s cell and woke Katin, who cursed her as usual.

  They put on dressing gowns and robes and went out into the hall. From the main stairs, Amira heard voices in the sitting room and saw shadows flickering through the doorway. It was well after midnight, but the whole house seemed to have woken. She pulled her robe tight and went downstairs.

  Count Asmus was in his nightrobe, crouching on a settee. He seemed haggard, only half-awake, but listened to the man before him: Topher Belwin, son of an ironmonger. He had eyes the same unremarkable brown as his hair, and a face so plain that it took Amira several moments to remember who he was.

  Old Ban stood behind the count, and Gerald, the kindly old house major, sat nearby in his own nightrobe. A couple of house maids lurked in another doorway. Dardan tried to warm his hands as Liam poked the hearthfire back to life. Luther, the Tarians’ master-at-arms and part-time blacksmith, came waddling up and bowed to Amira as he squeezed past.

  Topher paced restlessly as he spoke to the count. “They said some lords was killed, too, but I don’t know the names, and they didn’t neither. They also said a rumor that the prince—the king—had married some duke’s daughter, but they weren’t sure they believed it. I talked to another man who swore that Edon burned his father alive.”

  Amira winced. It could just be a coincidence… Don’t be foolish. You knew it. She exchanged a glance with Katin. Her vala had caught the phrase about burning as well, and scowled.

  Topher went on. “I got within sight of the Festival Gate, but it was closed up tight and all the guards had pulled in. That mob of merchants and farmers wanting to get in to the markets was right angry, I can tell you, but no matter how they howled up at the guards, nobody would say when the gate might open again.”

  Asmus nodded at him. “Well done, boy. You must be exhausted.”

  “I’m fine, m’lord. Do you need me to do anything else?” Topher offered.

  “No, no. It’s late, and you should rest. There’ll be a spare room somewhere around here, Gerald can find you a bed—”

  “Thank you, m’lord, but I have to get back to father. He’ll be worried sick.” He bowed before the count and left.

  Dardan finally noticed Amira standing there. He came over, but they were both in their nightdress, and he hesitated before her. “Amira. Are you all right?”

  “Yes. It sounded like he didn’t learn much.”

  Asmus came to join them. “With the city gates closed up, there was little he could do. You should all go back to bed. We’ll need our rest come the morning.” His gaze lingered on Amira for a few seconds more, until she bowed a little and turned back to the stairs.

  “It seems your caution was in the right,” Amira said to Katin when they were back in her chamber.

  “I’m not happy about it, if that’s what you mean by your tone. M’lady.”

  Amira bit her tongue. Her words had come out harsher than she’d intended. Katin’s overabundance of caution frustrated her, but it galled even worse for her to be proven right.

  The Tarians spent the next morning in the sitting room again, going over everything Topher had told them. Aside from King Viktor being dead, they could not conclude much of anything.

  The gates of Callaston had not been closed until three or four days after the king died, which implied that it had taken Edon that long to solidify his control over the dukes, the army, the Wardens, and the city constables. Many fol
k—nobles, mainly, since they had country estates—had fled the city. Topher had heard that several lords had been killed. Whether Edon was also responsible for those deaths was unclear. Some said there had been fighting in the palace; others said that Edon had quietly had some lords executed. There were other, more ludicrous rumors, but these were discounted out of hand: Edon had married his own sister; Edon could breathe fire; Edon had conquered Callaston at the head of an army of Vaslanders. The debate wound down with Asmus resolving that they stay vigilant, and keep alert for any news.

  Dardan confided to Amira afterward that Asmus had set watchers on the road to Callaston, in case Edon did come. This comforted Amira, but only a little.

  ———

  She was grateful for it five days later, when a Tarian guardsman came riding up to Tinehall as if chased by black spirits, and told the count that a large party of armed men was coming up the Callaston road. They were perhaps two hours behind him.

  Inside of half an hour, Amira, Dardan, Liam, and Katin were all mounted on the Tarians’ fastest horses, with saddlebags packed as if for an overnight stay. “We’re off to see Baroness Lalia,” Dardan announced at the front door of the manor. “We should be back in a day or two at most.” Gerald and a few other servants were present, helping arrange things. Asmus watched them go, a big smile plastered on his face. He had told no one else of the guardsman’s warning yet; his men watching the road had been instructed to report directly to him, and only him.

  Baroness Lalia lived in the south of Hedenham County. When Dardan and Amira and their valai reached the road—out of sight of the manor house—they turned north. Amira hoped the ruse would work; only Asmus and Old Ban knew their true destination, and they were men of many years, who could lie convincingly to a king. The servants were mostly young, but as long as they believed Dardan’s claim, they would repeat it earnestly if questioned. Amira hoped it would not come to that.

  It had been midafternoon when the news came, and by dusk they had ridden to the keep and found a place to settle within its walls. It sat atop a low hill, a few hundred yards from the road, bracketed on either side by forest. The hill before the keep was clear of trees; a wide field of ankle-high amber tussock grass covered it.

  The keep itself was as cold and charmless as Amira expected an old fortification to be. Dardan told her that it had been built more than a century ago, against the threat of some earlier Vaslander incursion. It was three stories high, surrounded first by an expanse of weedy dirt, and then by the outer wall, twenty feet of tightly-fitted stone. The gate faced west toward the Hedenham road, but the door into the keep itself was on the east side of the structure. Anyone breaking through the gate would have to go halfway around the keep to assault it.

  They hobbled the horses at the keep’s entry and went up to the second floor. There was a small firepit below a window that would let the smoke out. The light might give them away, were someone to approach the keep from the forest behind it, but Dardan judged that Edon’s men would not search anywhere near here. Not tonight, at least.

  There was not much conversation. Nobody really wanted to speculate on what Edon might do, or what they might have to do if Edon found them. Dardan had brought cards for five-jacks and played a few hands with Liam, but both men were clearly distracted. Amira spent most of the evening wondering how long they would have to stay there. Asmus would send word when it was safe to return to the manor.

  The four of them settled down for the night on what thin bedding Dardan and Liam had stashed there. It was hardly comfortable, but they were all young; sleeping on stone for once seemed like an adventure to Amira.

  She spent the next day exploring the keep and wandering in the yard, taking care to stay out of sight behind the walls. Katin followed her around sullenly, alternately complaining about having nothing to do, and insisting that they should be riding for the hinterlands.

  They had gone back up to the second floor of the keep for something resembling afternoon tea when they heard the sound of a horse whickering. Liam went to look out the window at the horses hobbled down below, and then cursed when the whickering came again. “That wasn’t ours,” he said, and drew his sword.

  Dardan was sitting on an old rotting stool. He bolted to his feet, grabbed his scabbard, and started buckling it on as he went for the stairs. “You two stay here,” he ordered the women. Amira nodded, and once he and Liam were gone, she went to the window. She could see the horses below, but nothing odd, until movement caught her eye. Someone was coming around the corner of the keep. She jerked back before they could see her.

  Katin had picked up a shard of wood perhaps an arm’s length long, a fragment of decaying furniture they’d found in an adjacent room. She hovered near the stairwell, keeping herself between it and Amira. Amira could see fear and determination written plainly on her face.

  Then Amira heard someone cry out—a girl’s voice. Who in the world? The question was answered moments later when Dardan and Liam came back up the stairs, dragging Calysane Tarian with them. She wore a cloak, the hood drawn back. “Let me go, you oaf,” she growled at her brother.

  Dardan did so, but very deliberately put himself between her and the stairs. “Keep your voice down. What in the black spirits are you doing here?”

  “It so happens that I’m here to tell you something,” Calys said, crossing her arms. “King Edon came to the house yesterday evening.”

  “We all assumed that would happen, m’lady,” Liam said. Unlike Dardan, he didn’t seem angry, but there was little humor in his voice.

  “Well I overheard father and the king arguing. They said—”

  “You were eavesdropping?” Dardan gaped. “Calys, you should not have done that! It’s wrong to begin with, and on a private conversation with the king, to boot! And you might have been seen!”

  “I wasn’t!” Calys protested.

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because…” Calys hesitated. “Oh, bother it. It’s the closet next door to father’s office, the one that opens into the rear hall. I didn’t go anywhere near father’s office door, which had king’s guards on it. The wall in that closet is practically as thin as parchment.”

  “I’ll be certain to alert father to this problem when I speak to him next.”

  “Wet blanket,” Calys muttered. “Well, I suppose you don’t want to know what they were saying.”

  “That is not—” Dardan cut himself off. “Just tell us.”

  Calys sighed dramatically and tossed her hair, all the while glaring at her brother. Amira fought to keep a smile off her face. Calys would thoroughly bedevil some nice young man some day. Finally the girl spoke. “They spent most of the argument—what I heard, anyway—threatening each other. The king kept saying that he wanted to know where Lady Amira was, and father just kept saying you’d gone off south to visit some baroness, and had no idea when you’d be back. And Edon didn’t believe him! He just about called him a liar. I wish I could have seen father’s face. He probably wanted to sock the king right in the jaw for that one.”

  “Stick with what’s important, please,” Dardan said.

  Calys looked like she wanted to argue, but perhaps her tongue was held in check by being surrounded by four angry adults in a cold, ancient keep. Amira had to know more. “Go on,” she said after a moment, trying to sound encouraging.

  “Well, the king said father had better not be hiding you. Father tried to get Edon to say what he wanted you for, but he wouldn’t.” Calys narrowed her eyes. “Why does he want you?”

  “That’s none of your concern,” Dardan said. Amira was sure Calys had not been told the story of what Edon had done to them in Callaston. Even Dardan did not know the whole truth. Amira felt a pang of grief at having lied to the Tarians about that; but how could she have told them? And now Edon’s presence might force the issue. “Answer the other question,” Dardan said. “How did you find us?”

  “Well, after Edon left, father and Old Ban talked for a minute.
And Ban said something about how he hoped the ‘old keep’ would hide you well enough. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he meant. So I, um, went to the stables, and borrowed Prancer. I thought you’d want to know what happened.”

  She was so guileless that Amira, for once, felt sympathy. Calys had just wanted to help them, never mind that Edon would judge her harshly for it, if he knew.

  Dardan still glared, though it had softened some. “Well you can’t go back now. We can’t risk you blabbing our whereabouts to anyone.”

  “I would never!” Calys said, indignant.

  “Not on purpose, m’lady,” Liam said smoothly, taking Calys’s hand and guiding her over to one of the few intact chairs in the keep. “But you are young, and even you must admit that you have a loose tongue from time to time.”

  Calys grumped a little but did not disagree. In fact, she was gazing up at Liam adoringly. Liam seemed to realize this, and put his back firmly to her, walking to the window and looking out. Amira certainly hoped that there was nothing more to that than childish infatuation. Katin, she saw, looked livid.

  Dardan stalked about, eyeing the stairs as if he might bound outside at any moment. Clearly he thought Calys might have been followed, but no shouts came. The three women sat and chatted quietly.

  The day’s shadows grew long. Amira did not want to think about Edon, for that way lay only terror and grief. Sir Thoriss’s face loomed before her again, and she tried to banish it. She studied her betrothal ring for the hundredth time, hoping to find some new facet she’d missed before; anything to distract her.

  Her reverie was broken by the realization that everyone had stopped talking, and in a moment she recognized why: hoofbeats. Lots of them.

  “What now?” Dardan said, and grabbed his sword again. “Keep her up here,” he said, meaning his sister. Calys had the good sense not to argue.

  Amira wanted to go with him. She’d be in less danger than he probably thought. But she took Calys’s hand and gave her a smile. “Thank you for coming, whatever your brother says.”

  Calys grinned, but it did not break the worry in her eyes. They all wondered who was arriving now. Katin looked at her makeshift club as if realizing it would be no use against a large party of armed men, which is what the hoofbeats portended.

  “Where is she?” came a roar a few minutes later, and Amira recognized Count Asmus’s voice. Calys went pale, and even Katin looked scared.

  “We should go meet them,” Amira said, standing.

  Dardan’s sister did not move. Katin knelt down beside her. “Better to face him now, m’lady, and get it over with.”

  The girl nodded slowly, clasped her hands together, and stood up. They went down the stairs to the yard, to find four men waiting for them: Dardan and Liam, and also Count Asmus and his valo, both mounted. Amira wondered where all the other horses were; it had sounded like there had been dozens.

  “You must be one of the black spirits yourself, to run off so foolishly as that!” Asmus roared when his daughter appeared. “With the king about, you ride here? I thought you at least had your mother’s wits, but it seems I was mistaken!”

  Calys’s spirit seemed undiminished by the assault. Amira thought she looked mulish, ready to fight back. “Father, they had to—”

  But Asmus gave her no chance. “I had to drag out every man I could find looking for you! At first I thought maybe you’d gone off to sneak a peek at the royal soldiers, but then one of the lads saw your tracks heading off north. I never thought you’d be fool enough to come straight here! What if the king’s men saw you?”

  It was not a question meant to be answered. Dardan came to his sister’s side and took her hand. “Calys was very brave to come here, father. Even though she knows it was foolish.” This he said after catching his sister’s eye. “Go back home. We will be well.” He looked at Amira. “There’s a search party out front of the castle. Father told them to wait there, so they will not know that we are here, only that Calysane came here for some reason.”

  “And we will return home this instant. Calys, fetch your horse. Now.” Asmus’s face was a thunderhead. Amira had seen him play at anger a few times, but this was the first time she’d really seen his wrath.

  Calys looked at her father, and then at Dardan. Her eyes watered but tears did not fall. She rudely yanked her hand away from Dardan and started walking toward her horse.

  Before she reached it, another shout came. “Count Asmus!” A man came riding around the corner of the keep; Amira saw that it was one of the Tarian house guards, in green and silver livery. He halted before his lord and bowed slightly from atop his horse. “M’lord, there’s… there’s men on the road. Armed men. A lot of them.”

  “What?” Asmus reared his horse around and trotted away, Old Ban following. The guardsman gave the women a quizzical look, then bowed to them and raced after his lord.

  Armed men. Amira knew it was Edon; it had to be. She couldn’t just stand here. She picked her skirts up off the ground and ran as quick as she could toward the gate. Katin and Dardan both called after her, alarmed, but Amira ignored them.

  She came to the gate. Just outside it stood a party of men, mostly Tarian house guards, with a dozen or so townsfolk and farmers also mounted, on what looked to be every last horse the Tarians owned. Luther, the master-at-arms, was there as well. Asmus had not skimped when creating his search party. Amira looked past them, down the long sloping hill toward the Hedenham road. There she saw several hundred armed men, stretched out in ranks and coming toward them.

  Amidst them were banners in purple and blue, with a silver eagle in the middle.

  Dardan saw them and cursed aloud, then blanched and looked at Amira. “My apologies. How on earth did they find us?”

  Calys looked utterly mortified. “They… they must have followed me… but I was careful, I went through the woods off the back of our estate, how would they have known?”

  “They’re here now, m’lady. Blame won’t help,” Katin said. “Come, away from the gate.”

  Asmus was a little ways off, arguing with Old Ban and one of the guardsmen. “I bloody well know who it is! Just…” He aimed a bewildered scowl at Amira for a moment. “Get everyone inside, and close the gate.”

  “But, m’lord—”

  “Do it, or I’ll do it myself!” Asmus shouted, and in moments the entire search party had drawn through the gate into the yard, and several men were busy shutting and barring the gate. The others looked around nervously, and Amira felt the weight of their eyes on her. They would know Amira and Dardan had not come with them on the search for Calys. Would they blame her for this mess?

  When the gate was barred, Asmus strode over to his son. “Take the women into the keep. I will deal with his majesty.” He looked at Amira. “Do not let him see you.”

  “He must already know she’s here,” Dardan said. “If he demands you produce her—”

  “Just go!” Asmus shouted. He turned away and climbed the stairs on one side of the gate, until he stood atop the wall and could look out over the field.

  Amira wanted badly to see what Edon was doing, but she let Dardan lead her to the rear of the keep and up to the chamber where they’d spent the last day. Katin stayed right by her side. Calys came quietly, as if suddenly realizing that the consequences might be much more serious than a scolding from her father. Dardan saw them settled in, then led Liam back down the stairs.

  The women waited a few minutes, but Amira could not stand it. She’d already found the stairway to the roof, the day before, and strode for it.

  Katin yelped and raced after her. “M’lady, what are you doing?”

  “I mean to see what’s happening. Come, or don’t, but I must know.”

  Katin groused but went along. Calys did as well, most likely wanting not to be left alone. Amira could understand, even if the girl served no purpose but to get in the way.

  Amira pushed open the trap door to the roof and climbed out. Her dress was dirty after a day a
way from the manor, tromping all up and down the keep, and its marred beauty bothered her. She scolded herself for caring; it was not important now. She went to the edge of the roof and looked out through an arrow-slit in one of the merlons.

  The sun had just set, but there was still plenty of light in the sky. Below, arrayed in a broad arc along the hill before the keep, milled a mass of soldiers—two or three hundred, at a guess. Half a dozen Relindos banners were scattered among them. A small fleet of wagons came up in the rear, carrying provisions or something. A few torches had been lit against the creeping twilight.

  Amidst the mass stood a group of knights in polished armor. In the center of them all was a man, taller than the rest, in golden plate. She shivered when she realized that it was Edon.

  CHAPTER 15

  AMIRA