The Queen's Resistance

by Rebecca Ross

  “By the gods,” I whispered, my breath fogging the glass.

  “What is it, Aodhan?” Luc asked, forgetting his anger at me.

  I turned to meet his gaze. “It’s Grainne Dermott.”

  None of us knew what to expect when Grainne Dermott requested to speak with the queen and her inner circle in Jourdain’s office. She had obviously ridden here in a hurry, and she took no time to change out of her mud-splattered riding leathers before coming to meet us.

  “Lady Grainne,” Isolde greeted, unable to hide her surprise. “I trust all is well with you.”

  “Lady Isolde,” Grainne said, sounding ragged. “Things are as they should be in Lyonesse, and I say such to ease your mind. Your father is well, and continues to hold the castle and the remaining Lannons in the keep. I have come because I heard troubling news.”

  “What have you heard?” Isolde asked.

  “That Brienna MacQuinn has been taken captive.”

  Jourdain shifted. “Where did you hear such a thing, Lady Grainne?”

  Grainne looked to Jourdain. “The royal city is teeming with constant rumors, Lord MacQuinn. I did not have to wander far in the streets and in the taverns to hear this.”

  We were silent, and I wondered if Isolde was going to hide the truth.

  “The rumors appear to be true,” Grainne said. “For Brienna MacQuinn is not among you.”

  “That does not mean my sister has been taken captive,” Luc said, but hushed when Jourdain raised his hand.

  “It is true, Lady Grainne. My daughter was taken in the night. She is not among us, nor do we know where she currently is being held.”

  Grainne was silent for a beat, and then her voice dropped. “I am sincerely sorry to hear this. I desired that it was not so.” She sighed, rushing her fingers through the curls of her hair. “Have you stumbled across any leads?”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Jourdain regard Isolde. He was wondering if the queen was going to bring Grainne into the inner circle, and I already knew the answer before Isolde spoke.

  “Come and sit with us, Grainne,” Isolde said, indicating the chairs gathered about the table.

  As Jourdain served everyone tea, she began to tell Grainne the chain of events that had occurred, bringing us to this moment. Grainne leaned forward as she listened, her elbows on the table, her fingertips absently tracing the rim of her cup.

  “The Red Horn,” she said, and then snorted. “Gods above. It has to be him.”

  “Who?” Jourdain demanded.

  “Pierce Halloran,” Grainne answered.

  His name struck me like an arrow. And the more I contemplated it, the stronger I felt about it.

  “Pierce Halloran?” Luc blurted. “That whelp?”

  “He’s not a whelp,” Grainne corrected. “For the past few years, he has organized raids to terrorize my people. Brienna told me about how he tried to ally with the MacQuinns, and how she ended up mortifying him. That makes her a target; he will do whatever he can to demoralize her. But also, Pierce Halloran is a half-moon.”

  We merely gaped at her.

  “Brienna did not tell you?” she asked, glancing to me. “She told me on the ride to Lyonesse that she saw a half-moon tattoo on Pierce’s wrist. And that is how the conversation began between us, why I told her what the symbol meant. Because I did not want her to be ignorant of what Pierce is capable of.”

  Brienna had not told us Pierce was marked. And whether that was an oversight or she was trying to deal with Pierce’s threat on her own, I could not be sure.

  “Why Red Horn, though?” Sean asked, frowning. “How did he acquire that name?”

  Grainne smiled. “You know what the Hallorans’ sigil is?”

  “The ibex . . . ,” Luc said, his voice trailing off as he realized, as we all finally realized, that the horn corresponded to the ram. “This whole time I thought it was a sackbut!”

  She gave us a moment to draw it together, these pieces she had just given us. She waited until Isolde met her gaze and then said, “Lady Isolde. The House of Dermott will publicly support and ally with you. I will also bring the MacCareys into the alliance, which means the other two Mac Houses will be strongly influenced to join you. We will swear fealty to you as our queen. But all I ask is that you allow me to lead the assault on Castle Lerah.”

  Isolde looked ill. I hardly recognized her voice when she said, “To lead an assault on another House . . . I need to be absolutely certain—I must not have any doubts—that they are guilty.”

  “Can’t you see, Lady?” Grainne fervently whispered. “They are guilty. They have been guilty for years, and they are plotting to overthrow you! They are holding Brienna MacQuinn captive, and most likely are harboring Declan.”

  Isolde began to pace. There was a strange current between the two women; it felt like the moment before a storm, hot and cold all at once, gathering into wind.

  The queen finally stopped before the hearth and said, “Everyone, leave us. Please.”

  We all started filing out, but then Isolde added, “Aodhan, stay with us.”

  I halted just before the threshold. Luc gave me a nervous glance, and then closed the door.

  I turned, remaining near the wall, and watched as the queen and Grainne stared at each other.

  “If I let you lead the assault, Grainne . . . ,” Isolde began, but she did not finish.

  “I swear to you, Isolde. It would not come to that. It would only be by my sword.”

  I was utterly confounded by this conversation. And I had no idea why Isolde had asked for me to remain. It honestly seemed like the queen had forgotten my existence until she glanced to me, beckoning me closer.

  The queen looked to Grainne, who said nothing, but I sensed they were speaking mind to mind. It raised the hair on my arms.

  “Aodhan, Grainne is like me,” Isolde said. “She has magic.”

  I looked to Grainne, and she pressed her lips together, as if she was hiding a smile. “He already knows. He sensed it when he hosted Rowan and me at Castle Brígh.”

  “Not much escapes him.” Isolde sighed.

  “I am still standing here,” I reminded them, to break the tension. “Although, I am unsure as to why you asked me to remain for this conversation.”

  The queen sat in her chair, crossing her legs. “Because I want your advice. About the assault.” She took up her teacup, but she didn’t drink. She merely stared into it, as if her answers might rise to the surface. “Grainne harbors magic of the mind. She can speak without words, thought to thought.”

  She is worried that my magic will go astray in the assault.

  I startled when Grainne’s voice entered my thoughts, as clearly as if she had spoken the words aloud. I stared at her, perspiration beginning to bead on my brow.

  “Magic goes corrupt in battle,” Isolde said. “We know this from our history, from the last queen who waged war by it and nearly sundered the world. And I’m concerned that it would get out of our control if we march on Castle Lerah bearing it.”

  “Lady,” Grainne said, trying her best to sound patient. “I would take the fortress by sword and shield. Not by magic. I do not even know how to wield magic in battle. As we spoke before, we do not have the spells. What can go astray with it?”

  Isolde was silent, but I could read her fears, her worries. It was right for her to feel so; I couldn’t deny that I felt it as well. There was too much we still did not know about magic.

  But if Brienna was truly at Castle Lerah, I would not hesitate to take up steel and armor and follow Grainne there.

  “I find it so ironic,” the queen whispered. “I nearly cannot believe this, that Declan wants to exchange Brienna for the stone. I asked Brienna weeks ago to hold me accountable, to take away the stone should I descend into darkness with it. And now she has been taken from us, and I must decide what to do with this stone.”

  Grainne and I were quiet, uncertain what to say.

  “Do you want to give the stone to another to
wear while we undergo the assault?” I asked. “I could bear it for you, just as Brienna did, within the wooden locket. Magic would go dormant for a while, until the conflict is over.”

  “Yes, I think that would be wise. But we still are not certain that the Hallorans are guilty,” Isolde continued. “As much as I dislike them, I cannot lead an assault without proof. I cannot do it.”

  Aodhan, Grainne said to me. Aodhan, reassure her. Or else we may never get this proof.

  I could not lift my eyes to Grainne, for fear that she and I would unite in our bloodlust.

  The queen wearily sighed. “We need to wait for Liam to wake. Once he wakes from the healing, he can give us the confirmation we need.”

  Liam wasn’t going to wake for several more days. And we were going to waste time.

  But I consumed these words, let them sink as rocks into my stomach, taking my hope with them.

  The next two days passed miserably. Thane Liam still slept, and even though his color and breathing improved with every dawn, we grew restless, resorting to pace the castle and study the map and conduct interviews among the MacQuinns, hoping someone had seen something that could give Isolde the confirmation she craved.

  Our proof finally came late in the afternoon.

  I was sitting with Thorn, trying to persuade him to speak, when Isolde appeared on the threshold.

  “Aodhan.”

  I turned to look at her. When she remained silent, I stood, joining her in the corridor.

  “Thane Liam has woken,” she whispered. “It is as Grainne suspected. Pierce Halloran and four of his men are at fault.”

  “Then we have justification,” I said.

  The queen nodded, her eyes dark as obsidian. “Let us plan the assault.”

  We quickly summoned the others, gathering about Jourdain’s table with vigor, with bowls of stew and a bottle of wine, and we began to plot our next steps.

  Sean drew a diagram of Castle Lerah for us to study. He had been to the castle multiple times before with his father and had studied its design as a lad, because it was, unfortunately, one of the greatest and oldest holdings in all of Maevana.

  I watched as he drew the four towers, the gatehouse, the middle ward, which was a strip of grass between the inner and the outer walls, and the moat that would be our greatest challenge. He then proceeded to label the towers—the southern one was the prison, where Brienna would be, the eastern was the armorer tower, and the northern and western towers were the family and guest chambers, where Declan and the children were most likely located.

  “There are two gates that I know of,” Sean explained. “The outer gate and the north postern. I’ve only ever entered the fortress through the outer gate via the drawbridge. If we came from this direction, we would ride through the middle ward, past the gatehouse, into the courtyard. Here there’s a garden, the stables, the chapel, the bakery, and so forth. The great hall is here.”

  “What else can you tell us about the prison tower?” I asked, staring at its crooked rendition on the parchment. “How are we to get Brienna out?”

  Sean sighed, staring at it. “If Brienna is in the prison tower . . . well, I think if you could get beyond the first string of guards, you could make it to the parapet wall. After recovering her, you could either descend the stairwell into the inner ward, which will be teeming with people, or you could scale down the wall into the middle ward and perhaps sneak your way to the north postern, or even to the armorer tower.”

  “Why the armorer tower?” Isolde asked.

  “Because there is a string of forges here,” Sean answered, drawing an inky line on his map. “They call it forge row. And forges need water, don’t they? I could almost guarantee that there will be a door in the outer wall to reach the moat, so lazy apprentice blacksmiths can draw water from there instead of coming all the way into the inner ward, to where the well is.”

  We were silent, mulling on his wisdom, when Sean suddenly laughed, raking his fingers through his hair, leaving a trail of ink on his temple.

  “By the gods. Of course.” He crossed his arms, nodding at his castle drawing. “Castle Lerah is built of red stone. The Red Horn.”

  Our planning then shifted to the most paramount of challenges: getting beyond the moat.

  “We need a way to lower the drawbridge,” Luc said.

  “The weavers.” Jourdain’s sudden response drew our attention. “Every month, my weavers deliver wool and linen to Castle Lerah.”

  “Have they already delivered this month?” Isolde asked. “Would they be willing to drive the delivery wagon so we can smuggle ourselves in?”

  “I’m not certain. Let me ask Betha.” Jourdain swiftly left, and while he was gone, we continued to pore over the map and finish our dinner, refraining from planning any further until he returned.

  He was back ten minutes later. “Betha has agreed to the delivery. She says she can smuggle four of us in the wagon bed.”

  “Which of us will go, then?” Luc asked.

  “I think it should be Aodhan, Lucas, Sean, and me in the back of the wagon,” the queen said. “Sean and Lucas will be responsible for the drawbridge. Aodhan will recover Declan, and I will recover Brienna. Grainne, you and your forces will be waiting here”—she pointed to a small forest on the map—“in the cover of these woods, where you have a direct view of the drawbridge. Jourdain will be waiting here with his thirty men- and women-at-arms”—she pointed to the orchards, to the northern demesne of the castle—“with a wagon to transport Brienna and the two Lannon children back to Fionn immediately.”

  I found her allocation strange, that she would go in to recover Brienna while I was appointed Declan. I thought it would be the other way around, and I wondered if she was ordaining this moment for me, if she was granting me permission to slay Declan Lannon.

  Her gaze met mine, but in that brief moment, our thoughts aligned. She was indeed giving me the chance to fulfill my vengeance. And perhaps there was something else, something to do with Brienna. If Brienna had been tortured, would I be able to get her out safely, or would I fall to pieces at the sight?

  I was not certain; I honestly could not even entertain this thought.

  “Lord MacQuinn,” the queen continued, shifting her gaze to Jourdain. “I ask that you guard the Stone of Eventide for me during this assault, to wear it in the locket that Brienna once employed, and to hand it back over to me after the violence has ended.”

  She had already discussed this with Jourdain. I could tell because he did not appear the slightest bit surprised. He laid his hand over his heart in submission.

  “Lady Grainne,” Isolde said, now directing her orders to the woman at my side. “I am giving you this opportunity to take Castle Lerah, because I know your people have suffered greatly at the hands of the Hallorans. All this being said, I ask only one thing of you. If you shed blood, it would only be that of those who have directly harmed you. That you would protect the Halloran women and children and men who are innocent in this matter, who are going to find themselves in a sudden battle.”

  Grainne’s eyes gleamed in the firelight. She laid her hand over her heart and said, “So I swear to you, Lady. If any fall by my sword, it will be Pierce Halloran and his half-moons. No other.”

  The queen nodded. “Lord MacQuinn, do you think your weavers could quickly supply us with Halloran garb? This could be something as simple as navy-and-gold shawls, as I think the mere colors will help us blend in once Aodhan and I slip into the castle.”

  “Yes, Lady,” Jourdain said. “I—” The office door blew open, startling all of us.

  It was a young woman. I recognized her as the one who had been weeping in the hall when we had first arrived to Fionn.

  Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes reddened. There was fury and wonder in her gaze as she looked to Jourdain.

  “Neeve?” Jourdain stood, perplexed. “What is it, lass?”

  “My lord,” Neeve whispered, approaching Jourdain. Parchment was in her hands, crum
pled to her heart. “I want to be one of the weavers who goes to Castle Lerah.”

  “Neeve, I cannot allow you to go,” he said. “It is too dangerous.”

  Neeve was quiet, and then she cast her eyes to me.

  “I am not asking to go to Lerah,” she said tremulously. “I am telling you. I am going to Lerah, and I will be the one to bring Brienna out of the tower.”

  I held her gaze for a beat, but then my eyes drifted down to the papers in her hands. I recognized Brienna’s handwriting on them. Just the sight of that made everything slow around me, as if time had stalled.

  “Why must you go, Neeve?” I murmured and stood, stepping away from the table so I could draw close to her. I tried to read Brienna’s words, words that Neeve had smeared with her tears.

  She began to weep.

  I did not know what to do, how to comfort her. Jourdain appeared baffled, and Isolde rose to approach the girl. But before the queen could reach her, Neeve wiped her eyes and looked at me again, resolved.

  “Lord Aodhan.” Neeve slowly extended the papers to me, knowing that I craved to read the words. “Brienna is my sister.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  BLADES AND STONES

  Lady Halloran’s Territory, Castle Lerah

  Brienna

  I spent four days in dark solitude.

  The guards brought me a bowl of soup and a cup of water in the morning and in the evening, and that’s how I knew it was four days that passed. I spent the rest of my time wondering if Ewan and Keela had been caught trying to steal the key, wondering where Jourdain, Cartier, Isolde, and Luc were.

  I woke to the clanging of my doors, to Declan Lannon entering my cell.

  I shuffled as far away from him as I could on my cot.

  Declan was quiet, dragging his stool closer, to perch his large frame upon it. He was looking down at the floor, absently stroking his beard, and that’s when I knew that he had learned there would be no exchange. That he was about to hurt me in retaliation.

  “My sources tell me that Isolde Kavanagh is at Castle Fionn, and has made no arrangements to meet me in the valley three days from now,” he finally said. He appeared feverish, his anger gleaming like stars in his eyes. “That means your queen and your father plan to thwart me, Brienna.”