Queen Yavara Ch. 41

ADRIANNA

There were seven bands on my ring finger. I was married to seven women. Now six. The pyre burned in the city center, and all of Alkandra was in attendance. Faltia had tried to keep her dignity before her men, but she broke once the flame caught, and I held her against me, weeping with her. We all wept. Prince Matthew was inconsolable, clutching one of his boyfriends' chests. Tim the troll cried hardest of all, fat tears streaking his furry face. His sobs sounded over the pervading silence that had come over the city.

We were supposed to be untouchable. We were supposed to be matron saints of the realm of beasts, and someone had killed that idea. I had killed that idea. I longed for yesterday to return almost as much as I wished for Alexa to be with us once more, but there was nothing to be done, not justice, not even vengeance. The killer had disappeared, but the murderer was standing right next to them. The child in Alexa's belly had been Kiera's. Now Kiera stared blankly at the embers, loosely holding onto Brianna. I connected eyes with Brianna, and she guided my gaze to the track marks that lined Kiera's forearm. She hadn't tried to hide them. It was a call for help, and we would give it to her. It was the least I could do. It was not enough. It would never be enough.

"You can't cancel this mission." Faltia said quietly. The service was over, and we were alone in our tower of the castle.

"I need to be here with you." I said, taking her shoulder, "With Kiera at least."

Faltia blinked away a tear. She was so beautiful in grief, and I wanted to take her pain away with my body, but she refused. "The orcs believe that pain is a healer." She said, "Misery will grind you to nothing, but pain will break you cleanly. I must be broken, Commander. If I try to numb it, it will not scar me, but become me."

"What can I do?"

She smiled sadly. "Leave me alone for three days and three nights. Let me face this, and come out the other side, damaged but whole." She looked out the window. "It will be hell for me for a while. This city is her legacy, and every building and bridge has a piece of her soul."

I touched her belly. "This is her legacy, Faltia." I touched her heart, "And so is this."

Her lower lip quivered. "Leave me now, Commander."

I did. The others were outside the room, huddled together. I took Kiera gently by the wrist, and ran my fingers over the holes she'd put in her veins. "We're going to have to lock you in a room." I said.

"I know." She replied, her voice and eyes distant.

"You won't face this alone." I touched her cheek, then turned to the rest. "None of us will. The last harvest has come, and the people are moving inside. We will be safe in this castle for the winter months at least. Come spring time, we will not fear walking the streets."

"This was Leveria." Eva hissed.

"We don't know that."

"We do know it!" She snarled, "Who else would it be?!"

"There are many people who want to see Alkandra fail. Should we name each of them?" I asked. "We may never know who ordered this, and that will be one of the hardest things to make peace with, but we must, or it will gnaw into you until you're hollow." I said, hating myself more with every word. I turned back to Kiera, "Arbor has said she'll help you in any way you need."

"Just wrap me in a blanket and cuff my wrists to the bedframe." She said dully.

Brianna snorted around her tears, and took Kiera away by the arm.

Eva ran her hands through her hair, then followed after them. Soraya watched her most beloved go, then turned back to me, the box in her hands. "Will you go now?" She asked.

"We can't wait any longer." I muttered, taking the box.

"Why hasn't Yavara answered our calls?" Furia growled, "What the fuck is she doing that's so goddamn important?!"

"Whatever it is, it can't be good." I said, "Furia, we have to do this now."

"We can—"

"No!" I growled, "If we don't do something, then she died for nothing!" I screamed the last word, and the sound echoed down the hall. Furia saw the desperation in my face, and she did not question it.

She nodded, wiping away a tear. "You're right."

I wished to god I was.

BROCK

I blinked open my eyes. Actually, I winked open my eye. There was only the right eye now. I was delirious for a moment, but then it came back to me. Sherok, Trenok, the battle, the burning. There was no pain. I looked down at my body, and saw that the flesh was healed. The tattoos were all gone though, burned right off me. My life's history, the heritage of my people. Gone. I ran a hand through my hair, and realized that was gone too.

"Burnt hair was always tricky." Zander said from the foot of the bed, "I don't know why. The tattoos were scars themselves, so a healing incantation would remove them."

"And my eye?"

Zander shook his head. "It was a death curse, probably given to you by a man you were killing, since death curses kill the caster. It's funny. Any mage, no matter how experienced or novice, can cast one curse that is wholly undefendable. A suicidal baby could kill the greatest mage on earth if the baby were so inclined. Anyway, you're lucky to have your life, and even luckier to have the one eye."

I grunted, and eased my head back onto the pillow. It didn't surprise me that I was chained to the bed by a binding spell. "Mid Fort?" I asked.

Zander opened the flap of the tent. I had hoped to see nothing but the rise of western Highland hills, but the Rift greeted my eye, and Mid Fort stood defiantly atop it. The causeway had been reduced to rubble.

"The official story is that the elves had a spell in place to destroy it in case they ever lost the gate." Zander said, "But since you're alive, I suspect you know what really happened."

I didn't answer right away, just stared blankly at the fort gate. I had been so close. I had been a finger's breadth from the wrought iron. I would've thrown open the door to the Highlands, and won the war that moment, for Trenok, for Sherok, for Yavara. If only I hadn't been such a fool, maybe I would've seen it.

"The Terdini warriors?" I asked.

"All dead. The Protaki too."

I closed my eye. It was fitting that the tattoos were burned from me. I was the last Terdini warrior. I was no one at all. The oldest and proudest tribe of orckind had died uselessly at the top of a plateau in a war they were never going to win. My ancestors had disowned me for the atrocity. My enemies in the halls of hell were howling with laughter up at me. Brock the fool. Brock the deceived. Froktora for a Highland princess.

"She always said she never wanted to invade the Highlands." Zander said, "Her plan from the beginning was to force them to negotiate."

"Taking the Rift would've gone a long way into forcing that negotiation."

"Taking the Rift means taking the Highlands. She didn't want to lose face with her horde by making them turn back when the prize was at hand."

"So she led us to slaughter instead, hoping to bleed the fight out of us."

"Yes."

"She is a coward."

"Taking the Highlands because it was the easiest option would've been cowardly."

"Sacrificing lives so that she can save face is cowardice." I said, looking at Zander, "What did Trenok die for?"

"Alkandra."

"This is not Alkandra. This is a theme park."

"You've never even been to the place you fight for."

"You've never been there either."

"I don't fight for Alkandra." He touched the skull that topped his staff, "I'm the slave of a thousand-year-old promise. I've seen the worst evils in that time, and most of them, I saw in the mirror. The others, well, I saw them here." He tapped the skull, "Alkandi was evil, Brock. Evil to the core. You wonder why the Highlands hatred has lasted so long? The evil that Alkandi inflicted upon them left wounds that will never heal. I was one; I still am." He regarded me. "You're not entirely gone, Brock. Even after all you've done, there's decency in you. There's none in me. If it were up to me, you would've died in agony in that fort, reaching futilely for a gate that I was holding shut with all my power." He leaned in, "Do you understand me, Froktora? You could've thrown a million men at that gate, and it wouldn't have budged a goddamn micron. And if I wanted to..." he snapped his fingers, and nearly half a mile away, the Mid Fort gate swung open, then slammed shut, "...I could've ended this war a month ago. But you understand, I'm trying my hand at decency, because I remember Alkandra, and I remember the great joy the world felt when it finally collapsed. I will not let this kingdom Yavara is creating become Alkandra. The name will stick for now, but this place will be Yavarana in time. She is decent, and you call it 'cowardice.'"

He stood up, and released the binding spell that held me fast. "Brock Terdini is dead." Zander said, "He died gloriously on the field leading a doomed, but valiant charge. You, whoever you are, are an exile. You may go to the Lowlands. You may board a ship to cross the sea, and I will pay for it, but you will never see Alkandra."

"I'll never see her again either, will I?"

"Of course not."

"So she sent you here instead." I clapped him on the shoulder, and grinned broadly, "You know, she's not angry with me. She's scared of me. She doesn't want to look me in the eye and see what she fears the most. Oh, she says she's afraid of being like her sister, or like Alkandi, or all that 'what am I becoming' bullshit. The truth is, she's scared to death that she didn't change at all. That underneath that new skin and hair, underneath all that power, she's still the dumb spoiled twat that killed my men for sport, then tried to get out of it by flashing her daddy's name." I laughed loudly then, as though I realized the punchline to a joke far too late. "Zander, I've got bad news for you. I do believe Alkandi fucked up!"

He narrowed his eyes at me. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't you see? Her timing was off! She picked the wrong Tiadoa princess!" My laughed nearly turned into a scream, "The real Dark Queen sits on the throne of Bentius!" I howled at the wizard's vexed face, and dropped my bags at his feet. I strolled out of the camp with a light heart, passing orcs who didn't move out of my way, who didn't salute me, who looked on me with contempt for not having a tattoo. I just walked past them, and made my way to the Great Forest. Home.

ELENA

"...our casualties," Ternias said, pausing for effect, "were four-thousand, five-hundred and thirty. Brave men, all of them, all died with honor. The bloodiest day since the battle of the Tundra." He cleared his throat, "The enemy's casualties..." he looked over the room, savoring every rapt breath, "...are estimated as follows. First division: Five-thousand dead, wounded or missing. Second division..." he paused again, then said, "...total loss."

A gasp rose from the court, then a great cheer. Leveria was the foremost applauder, her face radiant with joy. Even I felt a measure of great relief.

The king stood up, and hollered, "The enemy has suffered its greatest defeat since Alkandi was broken at Castle Thorum! Three cheers for my uncle, the hero of the Tundra, and the hero of the Rift!"

"Hoorah! Hoorah! Hoorah!" Came the cries, and I joined in, and with genuine jubilance. Leveria patted her husband's hand dotingly, and he smiled companionably back at her. The interaction was tactfully done. I looked back at Ternias to see his smile turn down a degree. The pro-war parties had won a great victory, but it was really Leveria who came out of it on top. If there was a loser in all of this, it was me.

I stood up, and walked to my dais. "It is a great day," I said, "and there is cause for celebration. This victory has saved our kingdom from destruction. Our brave men on the field have done their job. Is it not time we did ours? We have an opportunity right now to pressure the Dark Queen into peace while she is weak."

"Peace?!" Lady Jonias barked, "Why would we ask for a truce when victory is nigh?!"

There was an uproarious shout of approval. I waited for it die, then spoke again. "The Night Wolf still prowls the countryside unmolested. Esmerelda's rebellion is raging in Feractianas. Your own province, Lady Jonias, has had all its grain stores sabotaged. When your people ask you why they are starving, will you tell them it is for victory?"

"Our people wouldn't be starving if our queen hadn't so disastrously handled trade negotiations!" Ternias countered, and was answered with hale of concurrence.

"The trade negotiations would've gone better if you hadn't sabotaged them, Lord Ternias." Leveria snapped, "Yes, our overseas factors were scared away by the war, but your meddling with the dwarves put them in stasis when they could have acted!"

"Be that as it may," I yelled, "the situation is still the same. Ladies and gentlemen of the court, what have we won today? We have not gained an inch of ground. The enemy has not retreated. We are still woefully outnumbered, and now that the causeway at Mid Fort has been destroyed, we cannot threaten a counterattack from there. When the snows close the northern passes, that will leave only South Fort, and Field Marshal Shordian has said that attacking from there would be suicide."

"Field Marshal Shordian is... wrong." Ternias said, carefully choosing the last word. It didn't matter, for there was a hiss of disdain from the court for even suggesting it, and Leveria's smug smile reappeared on her face.

"I urge you, all of you, to consider the opportunity we have." I said, "Where before, we might've had to give great concessions to end the war, now we can end it on favorable terms. Bring our soldiers home so that they can quell the unrest that threatens us from within. Let us trade with our new neighbors to feed our nation, instead of fighting them so that we can starve."

I had put a damper on the revelry, and received many annoyed looks from the nobles, but my message was heard.

Leveria stood, and walked purposefully to the center of the court. "Thank you, Lady Straltaira, for your daily dose of rationality. I'd say you must be a buzzkill at parties, but I've heard rumor you're actually the life of them."

A snigger simmered through the court, and Leveria smirked at me before turning back. "Peace can be a very seductive word. It means a temporary end to hardship. It means comfort. It means you can relax. And when you set down your sword, strip the sweltering armor from your back, and ease into that sofa, you might think that all is well. Then there's a knife at your throat, and the enemy is in your children's bedrooms, and your children are screaming, but there's nothing you can do. Your sword is out of reach, and you're so tired. In the next few days, I expect to hear from the Dark Queen. I expect that she'll try to persuade either myself or Lord Ternias to take a very generous peace deal. I will not take it."

"Nor will I." Lord Ternias said resolutely.

"No." Leveria echoed, "There can be no peace until there is victory. Lady Straltaira would have you believe that victory is impossible. Lady Jonias has called her a coward for suggesting it. Lady Jonias is wrong. Lady Straltaira is a patriot, a war hero, and a most respected servant of this court. For her, victory is impossible, because victory means doing the impossible. Letting our people starve. Letting the Night Wolf inflict his horrors. Letting a rebellion lay waste to a province. Lady Straltaira's love for her people is admirable, but it leaves her unwilling to do what must be done." She paused for a moment, letting the somber tone sink in to the court, "I am your queen. I must be the one to bear the weight of this decision, not you. When your people ask you, 'why did you not feed us?' You will tell them that it was the queen's will. When your people ask you, 'why did you not protect us?' You well tell them that it was the queen's will. When your people rise up against you, it is not you they are rising up against, but me. This is my bane. I will never back down. I will never surrender. I will fight until our country's victory, or my death. That is my promise to you."

The court was silent for a moment. Then Lord Xantian burst from his chair, and yelled, "Till victory or death!"

"Till victory or death!" King Shordian echoed.

"Till victory or death!" The whole court echoed, and chanted the phrase over and over, as if trying to convince themselves they believed it. The most seductive word was not 'peace,' but 'pride,' and Highlanders, even the most conniving and pragmatic, held pride closest to the chest. Leveria smiled at me from across the court, and I could only nod in admiration. She could ride this wave for a week, maybe longer, but Yavara's army hadn't moved an inch, and even well-spoken platitudes were still very plain beneath the surface, and could not be eaten.

YAVARA

I watched Brock disappear into the Great Forest. Tears wetted my cheeks, though I was too high for anyone to see them. I had loved him. I would've gladly taken him as a husband, if only he could accept that he would not be the only one. Perhaps he could have. Perhaps I should've gone to him instead of letting Zander "smooth things over."

"Why didn't I just say 'yes?'" I asked myself. In that moment when I'd read his thoughts, and saw the bottomless grief that had formed in the place of Trenok, I saw the rational for what he did afterward. Trenok had told him to find the nerve to propose to me, and doing so was not an act for me, but an act for the memory of him. I could've said 'yes.' I could've taken him into my arms, and told him that I loved him, that I was there for him no matter what, but I was afraid. And when he walked away, broken and empty, I wanted to bury myself in the darkest hole I could find. Did he attack Mid Fort for Trenok, or was it for me? I would never know, because I was terrified of looking into his mind again, and seeing how he saw me now. I had heard the word though, for my ears were keen, and it was spat with such venom that it cut through the air. Maybe I should've flown higher to avoid it. Coward. That was what he had called me, and he was right.

I looked down at the wreckage of the causeway. Those men had charged up that ramp shoulder-to-shoulder, packed in so tightly that there wasn't a space to step forward. They had been slaughtered a hundred per minute, and their bodies had formed ramps of their own for the next men to follow up. How many thousands had died before I'd gotten there? And they had kept charging through it all, for me. How had I repaid their bravery? I'd lurked in the shadows where no one could see me, and I'd sent a wave of force and fire across the battlefield, and killed the rest. It was undoubtedly the greatest spell cast on Tenvalia since the time of the Creators. It had reduced the causeway to rubble, and those atop it to ash. It had so sapped me that I nearly died from it, and had to be tended to by Zander for hours afterward, but I made him get Brock first. I owed my bravest and loyalist companion that much. I owed him so much more.

The mirror I had given him was in my hands. I wiped the tears from my eyes, drew the sigil, and palmed the glass.

"Hello, little sister." Leveria smiled, "I've been expecting you."

"Great. Get Elena. She's not at her manor, so she must be with you."

She curled her lip. "I suspect she's actually at Lord Huntiata's manor, trying very vigorously to convince him to stay in her coalition of the fools. He walked right past her at court today, and she seemed very worried about it. Should we speculate on her negotiating tactics?"

"Goodbye, Leveria."

"Wait." She said with such command that I actually stayed my hand.