Arrival (12 page)

“Tell me. What is a desert warrior from Anuk doing travelling around the country of Cynis Witron with a young female singer?” Fern asked softly.

“I was exiled,” he replied quietly after a pause.

“Why?”

“Killed the wrong person.”

“I think it’s time we slept,” Jane interrupted quickly.

Ria returned to the log where she had left her beloved Collinia. She had never been without it. She knew that no one in their right mind should be this attached to an instrument.

“Thank goodness,” she breathed when she saw it sitting in the moonlight. Ria sat back down on the log to play again, but as she did, there was a ruffle in the bushes and Jane stepped out to sit beside her.

“So that’s what was in there,” Jane said looking at the harp and case. “I was a little worried when you ran away like that ... Sing for me?”

Ria did, just briefly.

“Ria, that was ... so beautiful. How did you ever learn to play like that?”

“I don’t know,” Ria sighed. There was a long silence as they sat together in the forest.

“I have a friend,” Jane said after a moment. “He is a musician too. I’m almost certain he is here in Paragor. Maybe, one day, if you ever meet him, I would love to hear you both play together.”

“I would like that too,” Ria smiled, then turned to Jane. “Are you frightened?” she asked the younger woman.

“Frightened of what?” asked Jane.

“Of being in a new world,” Ria said. “You’re a newborn.”

Jane looked over at her and she could see the girl try to weigh up whether or not to speak. Finally Jane replied, “Of course I am. But ... it’s exciting too.”

“Even with a tyrant who wants to wage war on us?” Ria asked wryly.

Jane smiled. “Even then. Are you? Frightened, I mean?”

“I never used to be,” Ria replied slowly. “But ... things are changing, I think.”

Jane shrugged. “I guess I wouldn’t really know about that.”

Ria stole a glance at her. “Paragor hasn’t faced a real war in a very long time. Certainly no one alive, nor our parents nor our grandparents have ever had cause to fight.”

Jane shivered a little. “Once I find my friends, I’m sure we’ll be able to find the portal home,” she murmured.

In a small abandoned hut, about fifty leagues from Amalia, in a thick forest, there were five people. Their horses were tethered outside against the trees.

As the sky darkened, they were all looking at the princess as she tried desperately to thank them.

Satine stammered. She wasn’t very good at this sort of thing.

“What you did, what you all did back there, was, well it was very courageous. Very brave. I understand that it could have cost you your own lives, and that you probably should have just left me there. It was my time to die, I think. But as you didn’t, I guess I need to show my gratitude. You did do a good job. You carried out your plan well, although it wasn’t the best of plans in the first place...”

“Satine, are you trying to thank us, or insult us?” Harry asked with a grin that increased when Satine flushed.

“I’m thanking you, of course,” she snapped.

“All right, then say the words and it’ll be done. Anyway, Accolon did all the work. It was his terrible plan that saved your life.”

Anna noticed that Satine’s eyes went, for the first time that evening, to where Accolon was sitting at the window.

“Ah ... well done, Highness,” she muttered.

“What are we going to do now?” Anna asked to change the subject.

“Live happily in the woods for the rest of our days,” Accolon snapped.

Anna was aghast, and then embarrassed when Satine assured her he was kidding.

“Harry and I can’t go back to the city—we will be captured if we do. Accolon will have to go back and claim the crown, now that the king is dead and he is the rightful heir to the throne. Anna and Luca, you can go with him but make sure you enter the city secretly. It can’t look as though you had anything to do with this.”

Satine paused as the others nodded their understanding. She frowned. “We need to know more about the maps, so we can find out what Leostrial is doing,” she murmured. “They’re the only clues we have. Harry and I will have to wait here until you can make some sense of them. I have a bad feeling about what’s going on. Leostrial has been different lately. He’s planning something.”

“So who shot the king?” Luca asked. They looked at Accolon. The prince didn’t look back at them, and Luca wished suddenly that he had broached the subject with a little more sensitivity.

“I did,” Accolon said slowly after a moment, and now it was so much worse. They gaped at him.

“I’m so sorry, Accolon. It is my fault he is dead,” Satine whispered with a hand over her mouth.

“No, Satine. Was it your hand that let loose the arrow?”

“No, but—”

“But nothing.”

“How did you shoot two arrows at once?” Luca asked after a few minutes.

“I didn’t.”

“Then where did the other arrow come from?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

The abandoned shack was actually one of Accolon’s own and used for hunting, so it was well stocked with weapons and implements. An hour later, Accolon had caught a small deer. He used a long hunting knife to skin the animal and cut it into portions small enough to roast.

“That’s disgusting!” Harry exclaimed at one point, covering his nose so he didn’t gag at the smell of the blood.

Accolon, who was gutting the creature, glanced up at Harry and frowned. “Don’t stand there and watch if it isn’t to your taste,” he muttered. “You three can see to the fire.”

Anna collected twigs, and Harry and Luca set about trying to light a fire. They had a small box of flint that made sparks easily, but it was still very difficult without any paper to get the flame started. Luca leant in close and blew on the sparks to get them going and soon they had a proper blaze.

Satine took the opportunity to lower her feet into a bucket of cold water. They had been badly burnt in the fire, and none knew what to do to fix them. The water soothed the pain a little.

Accolon was sharpening the tips of his arrows with a small knife. Anna watched him as unobtrusively as she could, trying to figure out what he was thinking. Surely he could not be so calm after everything that had happened? He looked like he didn’t even care about what he’d done. His brow creased and his face turned into a scowl as he concentrated.

“I’m going for a ride,” Satine announced suddenly, lifting her feet out of the bucket.

“Sit down, Satine,” Accolon ordered. She stumbled and fell, and he was just in time to catch her. He quickly put Satine back on the seat.

“Accolon, I’m going for a ride,” Satine said, more forcefully this time.

He looked at her determined face for a moment, then sighed, “Fine. I’m coming with you.” And then he picked her up and carried her to the bed inside the hut.

“Accolon! I am not an invalid!” she cried.

“No, but you have bad burns on your feet,” he replied. “What do you want to wear?”

“I’m fine as I am. Let’s just go.”

Then she was in his arms again and they were outside. Harry and Luca were trying to cook the meat by holding it over the flame with skewers. Anna realised she had been eavesdropping and went to help them.

“We are going for a ride,” Accolon said. “Will you manage?”

“Hey,” Harry said in mock offence, “you’re talking to the captain of the boy scouts.” Satine and Accolon looked at him blankly and shrugged.

“Never mind,” said Harry.

“We’ll be fine,” Anna said, trying to hide the pained look on her face as they rode away. Anna didn’t know why, but she desperately wanted to follow them. There was something about the way they acted together, and something about the way her heart beat faster when Accolon looked at her. Anna harnessed one of the other horses and, muttering an excuse to the boys about finding some water, she rode after them. The path was clear, but she was a slow rider, and so she arrived at the waterhole long after them.

Anna peered through the trees and saw them standing very close together, Accolon’s arms around Satine and holding her close against his body. Anna sucked in a breath. They were talking, so she had to strain to hear them over the crashing waterfall.

“I’ve missed you,” Satine said quietly. “It feels as though I’ve not been whole all these years.”

Accolon squeezed her tightly, as though to let go would be to lose her.

“I know,” he breathed, “I know.” He lifted her face to look at his own, and he leant down gently and kissed her tears away. “You have changed,” he murmured. “You have become beautiful.”

She arched her eyebrows, blinking away the tears. “Last time we spoke you said I was beautiful. Were you lying?”

“You have always been beautiful to me. Now you are beautiful to everyone else. I shall have to watch out for other men,” he smiled.

She laughed softly, wiping her eyes. “It’s been so long, Accolon,” she whispered. “But it seems like just yesterday. There’s so much I’ve wanted to tell you ... And ... I have thought, many times, that what we felt might have been just...”

“I know,” he said, “I have thought it too. We are so much older now, so many things have changed.” Anna saw him pause and take a breath. “Satine, if you had died today, I would have died with you.”

Satine sighed and lowered her head for a moment. Then she looked up at him and nodded gently.

“I killed my father,” he murmured after a time, and Anna could have wept for the pain that she knew he felt.

Satine seemed to feel the same way, for she said, a catch in her voice, “I know. I am sorry.”

He looked at her and smiled. “You don’t apologise to me very often do you?”

“I never have need.” But then she frowned and said, “I wish that we didn’t have to be so secretive all the time. It hurts to look at you, and not be able to touch you.”

“I know. Gods, I know, and I wish we could tell them all too, but you know we can’t. You are a wanted fugitive,” he said reasonably.

“Never marry anyone else,” Satine commanded.

“Never,” Accolon agreed whole-heartedly, and their lips came together.

Anna raced back to the camp, her face red hot with shame. She couldn’t believe what she’d done—she’d spied on them like a jealous stalker!

Overcome with embarrassment, she couldn’t bear to talk to the boys when she reached the camp. Because she wished, more than she’d ever wished for anything, that she could be in Satine’s place.

Growing up in the shadow of her celebrated older brother had taken its toll on Princess Elixia of Cynis Witron. There were expectations of brilliance. And when the younger sister of the prince held none of his extravagance or his charm, and preferred to ride alone in the hills than to dance and play with the rest of the court, people were disappointed.

While Fern could do as he pleased, travelling the countryside and visiting whichever towns he chose, there was a place for the second child—especially when it was a daughter—and that was within the palace.

Elixia could deal with the dresses and the sewing and the dining, she could bear the dancing and the socialising in court. She could endure all of this because she loved her father and her brother unequivocally. What she could not endure was being confined to the palace in Sitadel.

She loved to fight and hunt, she loved swimming in the lake, and most of all she loved to ride her horse. Elixia could have grown up as a stable hand and been completely happy.

She had convinced her father to let her ride once a day by herself in the forest. She often wondered if she would have been different if she had had a mother. She probably wouldn’t have been allowed her daily rides at all.

There was something that had made her this way, she knew, and it was not just the absence of a mother. Something had made her long for more freedom than she could ever acquire, but it was her secret, and she would never tell another living soul.

Once, many years ago, her father had found her in her bedchamber, sitting over the lifeless form of her pet rabbit. There were no tears on her face, no sadness in her eyes and when he looked at her, he’d seen something strange.

Elixia was staring at the creature, and she had seemed almost fascinated. Then her eyes had rolled back in her head.

“Lix!” Cornelius had cried, rushing to his tiny daughter’s side. It had been only months since the passing of her mother and she’d been acting strangely.

Elixia didn’t move, her body stiff, and made no response to her father’s cries. But then, just as suddenly as it had come over her, the stiffness disappeared and her eyes rolled back into place. Quickly she looked down at the rabbit, staring at it, waiting, hoping.

“Child, the animal is dead,” Cornelius had said. “We’ll get you another.”

Elixia stared a little longer, and then finally burst into tears. Her father held her and stroked her hair, and all the while she sobbed, over and over, “I tried so hard.”

Elixia’s father had worried about her since then, she knew. She’d been careful never to let him catch her in a situation like that again. He’d always been soft on her though. He thought her strange. That maybe her mind had been affected by her mother’s death.

Then it all changed. He had agreed, for the sake of a treaty, to marry her off. So when she was not allowed to ride to war with her father, she went anyway. She would die gallantly in battle. Let her father try to marry her after that!

But death had not been granted her.

And now, having ridden through the night with an envoy of soldiers, she was aboard a ship heading towards the land of Uns Lapodis. Towards her future husband.

“Don’t be angry with me,” Cornelius said to her as they stood on the deck, watching the waves.

Elixia felt the wind sweep across her face, she smelt the salty sea and felt a rare moment of happiness. “I’m not,” she said softly. “I just want to be left alone.”

Her father looked at her closely, a pained expression on his face. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Will you ... find some way to be happy?”

Elixia shrugged. She doubted it. “Of course,” she murmured, doing her duty.

He nodded in relief and clasped his hands together on the railing. “Father,” she said, “you look cold. You should go below deck.”

He nodded. “When we get there, I want you to come to the war council with me.”

She looked at him, surprised. “Truly?”

“It is fitting. You clearly love to fight—who am I to try and command you otherwise? You just follow me to battle as you please. A bit like your brother in that respect.”

Elixia smiled. “Will you be fit ... for something like that? You aren’t as young as you once were, and you’ve just been in a battle.” In truth, Cornelius had aged dramatically in the years since his wife died.

“I’ll be fine, child.” With that he made his way unsteadily from the deck.

Elixia spent the five-day journey up on the deck of the ship with the sailors, learning how to sail, desperate for the fresh air, unable to face going below into the tiny cabin. Her father knew not to try and keep her there—he was too worried about the attacks of panic she had when in such small places—something that had happened since she’d been very young.

She might have enjoyed the journey had she not been constantly thinking about what her husband would be like. She didn’t even know who it was; her father refused to tell her. No doubt some boring nobleman who would expect her to be confined to their house all day and night.

The weather had been kind to them with sunny, calm days, making it even more difficult to leave the ship when finally they came to their destination. With a sigh, Elixia descended from the boat into the beautiful city on the seashore. The houses were all brightly coloured and full of life. People bustled everywhere. Amalia was a thriving town, and easily the biggest in the world.

She was placed in a large litter with her father. It was draped with purple and gold silk that shielded the princess from the crowds.

As they began to move, one of the soldiers who was escorting them halted the procession, poked his head in and whispered something in Cornelius’ ear. Her father paled and sat back against the seat.

“What’s happened?” she asked.

“There has been a terrible tragedy, Elixia. Gaddemar has been assassinated. It happened at an execution that was to take place last night, and the prisoner escaped. The prince, Accolon, will be able to tell us more himself. Be prepared for the city to be in a state of shock. The queen will be distraught. You shall try to comfort her, as she has no daughters of her own and she will soon be dethroned.”

“Yes, Father,” she mumbled. “What do you mean ‘dethroned’?” she asked.

“Once Accolon is made king, he will have a new queen,” he said and gave her a sideways look.

They arrived at the palace and walked up the long set of steps and through the huge wooden entrance. The entrance hall was enormous, its roof held high above with marble pillars, and servants lined up around the walls bowed respectfully to them. A regal woman with icy cold eyes stood in the middle of the room, staring at the young princess. Queen Columba looked Elixia up and down, noting her in every way. Elixia didn’t look away. This seemed to annoy the queen, and she snapped, “Welcome to Amalia. Your stay here is welcome in this time of distress. I shall take you to my son, Prince Accolon, who has recently returned from an important errand.” Her voice was strained, her lips thin.

“No need, Mother. I am here.”

Elixia turned to the voice and took a deep breath as she turned and saw the young prince. His eyes were dark, almost black, full of fierce intelligence and—just then—anger.

Three young men and a woman followed the prince into the room. But Elixia paid them no attention. She was frozen to the spot by what the queen said next.

“My dear Elixia, should you not greet your new husband with a bit more respect?”

She looked at her father and saw his slight nod. Then she looked at the prince again. He was looking darkly at his mother.

“Mother, enough. Anyone can see that this is the first she’s heard of the marriage.” Accolon turned to Elixia. “I was sure your father would have told you. Becoming queen here is not what you want?” His voice was tired. She could tell that he had not wanted this wedding to take place either. Then she remembered her manners and curtsied.

“My apologies, lord, if I seem unhappy about this. It is only that, like you said, I had not been informed as to whom I was to marry until now. Please forgive my rudeness.”

Columba cut in. “You shall marry, and I am sure you will be quite capable of running this land together. You shall be happy.” It was more of an order than a comforting word.

Accolon glared at the queen. He turned to two of the people behind him.

“This is Anna and Luca. They are Strangers. Our chancellor, Tomasso, and his assistant, Vezzet. Feel free to speak to them, and all of us for that matter, informally, and with ease.”

“Thank you. I feel I need to apologise again. I must seem very ungrateful. I am happy with the duties you have placed upon me, and I hope that I will be a good wife and queen.” She would not seem like a spoilt little brat in front of these accomplished people. She still had her pride.

Elixia was escorted to a large, beautifully furnished room. A room fit for a princess. She would be moved into the queen’s chamber as soon as she was crowned.

It was becoming hard for her to understand. Why was she being made queen? She had none of the qualities usually sought. She was royalty, but that wasn’t a requirement. The king was allowed to marry any noblewoman. She had always been accustomed to the fact that her brother would become king of her own country, and she would be happy. She didn’t know how to be the queen of this land, the High Country. She had never even been here before!

Elixia walked onto the balcony and gazed down at the beautiful gardens. This city was known for its gardens. She had of course heard about them, but she was unprepared for their loveliness.

There was a knock on her door and a serving man announced that the queen was there to see her.

Elixia turned and bowed to Columba as the older woman stared down at her. “I thought it fitting that I came to see you comfortably settled into your room.”

“Yes, Highness. Thank you, I’m very comfortable.”

“Well, you won’t be here long. Just long enough for me to pack my belongings and leave my chambers.”

Elixia opened her mouth, but wasn’t sure what to say.

“Are you pleased, my lady, to have come into such power?” Columba asked.

“Well, yes, I suppose so, though it is far more than I ever expected.”

“Yes, I’m sure it is. I know it’s a lot to take in all at once, but let me assure you—there are ways around power. You shall be the queen, certainly, but we will look after you. Just leave everything to Accolon and I and you won’t have a thing to worry about.”

Elixia stared at the queen. “Thank you, that is very kind of you, but I’m sure that once I settle in I’ll be capable of managing things.”

“You needn’t worry,” Columba said more firmly. Her eyes were hard. She gave a cold smile. “As I said, just leave it all up to us—we wouldn’t want you troubling yourself with things you know nothing about. Now, I must take my leave. There is so much to be done.”

Quickly Elixia bowed her head as the woman swept out of her chambers. So this was how it was going to be. Columba had chosen her specifically because she didn’t have the qualities of a true queen.

The queen saw Elixia as a passive little sweetheart who could be manipulated to her will, and would do exactly as she was told.

Elixia walked back out onto the balcony and looked down at the gardens. Her gardens.

Columba had chosen the wrong girl.

Earlier that day, just as Accolon, Luca and Anna were about to set out for the palace, Anna awoke to see Satine and Accolon ride back into the camp.

“Are you ready?” Accolon asked, looking to her and Luca.

“Of course they are. It’s you we were waiting on!” Harry said. “You might have come back before we woke up if you wanted it to be a secret.”

Both of them gave a startled look.

“What do you mean?” Satine trailed off.

Harry’s eyebrows arched. “It’s pretty obvious.”

“Please, you must not say a word to anyone. We would be killed.”

“Of course,” Luca replied startled, and they both looked relieved. “But why?”

“Marriages between countries only take place when the head of each royal family agrees to it.”

“Between royalty?” Luca asked, always so quick.

Accolon looked at Satine and frowned. “Yes, between royalty.”

“Then Satine is...?”

“She is the Princess of Lapis Matyr,” Accolon replied.

Harry gaped. “Are you serious?” he asked and they nodded. “How is it that I never knew this? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Harry, it doesn’t matter. Now you know.”

A moment later they mounted their horses and waved goodbye to Harry and Satine down the track. Neither Anna nor Luca could ride well, so they had left at dawn, hoping that even though they could not gallop, they would reach the city before midday. Anna spent the day thinking. There was something nagging at the back of her mind. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it was something she desperately needed to remember. This thing, whatever it was, would not come to the surface. Something about the death of Gaddemar. The arrows? Or perhaps it was the queen? Something seemed a bit odd with her reaction. Why had she immediately ordered the fire to be quenched? Anna shrugged, unable to come to any conclusion except that something about the whole situation was amiss.

Instead she thought of her friends. She was worried about the other three. Jane and Mia and Jack. She had no idea where they were; she didn’t even know if they had crossed together. This was another subject she didn’t want to dwell on, so she thought about Accolon’s parting words to Harry and Satine instead.

“Don’t worry. You won’t be stuck out here long. Just until I’m crowned, and then you can return to the castle.”

“Accolon, did you ever think that maybe I don’t want to come back to a country that wants to see me burn?” Satine had asked heatedly.

Accolon had looked at her for a long moment. Anna would always remember how they looked just then. Tall and beautiful, each lit up with the morning sun. They were exactly as she pictured a king and queen to be.

“It was Gaddemar, and no one else.”

She hadn’t said anything.

“You would truly never come back to this land you rule alongside?”