Changing Fate [Fate series] (14 page)

"Are you in love with him too?” Druscilla asked bitterly.

"He's my brother."

Druscilla gasped, then dragged her along the alley, around a corner, to a door with a torch burning beside it, and looked hard at her face. “Yes, you do look like him."

"Don't be silly,” Akila protested dazedly, “Briam's blond."

"But you have his mouth, and nose, and eyebrows.” Druscilla looked down at Akila's tunic and bare legs and feet. “You can't run around like that! Come with me.” Dragging Akila behind her by the wrist, she led the way past two blocks of housing, until they reached the wall where the city hung over the river. “Can you climb?” Druscilla asked anxiously in a low voice.

"I think so,” Akila murmured softly. “How high and how far?"

"Not very high,” Druscilla said reassuringly, “just don't look down at the river, and follow me.” She made sure that her cloak was securely fastened at the neck, pushed it back over her shoulders to leave her hands free, and scrambled up the corner where the river wall joined the wall of a building. The wall of the building was considerably higher, but when Akila got on top of the river wall, she found that it dropped down to allow a view of the river from the garden behind the building wall.

Druscilla led the way down, aided by a fairly strong vine on the inside of the garden wall, and Akila followed her carefully, paying close attention to what she was doing with her hands and feet. It felt strange to have hands instead of paws, and her fingers were rather stiff.

Once they were safe at ground level, Druscilla concealed herself in her cloak again, and pulled Akila so that she would be hidden behind Druscilla if anyone should happen to look out from the building. Fortunately, this side of the building did not seem to have anyone awake in it, although Akila could see a dim glow, probably from a night candle, coming from a second floor window at the far side of the garden. Druscilla dragged her across the garden, past the pool in its center and around a group of stone benches, and up to the building, just under the window with the light. They stood next to an ornate column which held up the second floor window ledge.

"Climb up the column,” Druscilla said in a low voice, “and go through the window where the light is—that's my room. I'll be right behind you in case you have trouble climbing, but you shouldn't; the column has lots of places to put your hands and feet."

Akila looked at it dubiously. Quite a bit of the column's ornamentation jutted out, but which parts of it would take her weight?

"Come on,” Druscilla whispered, “we can't stand her for long—the Queen's Guard
does
patrol the garden every so often.” She placed Akila's hands on two projections, and indicated a stone branch that twined around the column at knee height. “Put your left foot here to start."

Akila took a deep breath and resolutely started up the column. Druscilla followed only inches behind her, shoving her feet into the proper niches as needed.

The width of the window ledge at the top was less than the length of Akila's foot. She wedged her right foot on it at a precarious angle and clung to the side of the window frame. Druscilla came up beside her, scrambled over the windowsill with the agility of a squirrel, and reached back to pull Akila in. She was stronger than she looked, and much stronger than Akila would ever have expected her to be.

Well, at least now I have some idea of how she got as far as she did before the Shield-Bearer caught up with her. She only
looks
fragile and helpless. But if this is a place where women rule, why does she pretend to be less than she is? What is she trying to escape?

Druscilla's bedroom was far more luxurious than anything Akila had ever seen. Soft furs covered most of the marble floor, and the bed had a coverlet and curtains made of a beautiful woven fabric. There were three beautifully carved wooden chests, two chairs with embroidered cushions on either side of a small table, and a tapestry frame set aside beside one of them. Akila crossed to look at the embroidery on the frame and was impressed; it was an elaborate design being very well executed. “Your work?” she asked.

Druscilla nodded. “Briam said you liked embroidery—do you do a lot of it?"

Akila looked ruefully down at her grubby hands. As she had feared, they were callused in strange places and her fingernails were worn down. “Not lately,” she replied.

"You'll want to wash,” Druscilla said. She led the way to the far side of the bed, where there was an ewer of water, a bowl, and a towel. “Get as much of the dirt off as you can, and I'll find you some decent clothes. Tomorrow you can have a proper bath, but even I can't justify demanding a bath three hours before dawn!” She gestured at the night candle, which still showed three time marks on its sides, then turned to burrow into one of her clothing chests.

Akila gratefully slipped off the tunic and began to scrub as much of her body as she could reach. She wished she could wash her hair; she never had gotten around to cutting it, and now it was a tangled, matted, filthy mess. She tried to untangle it with her fingers, without success.

"Leave it,” Druscilla advised, dumping an armload of clothes on the chair. “Here,” she grabbed a cloth, wrapped Akila's hair up in it, and tied it in place, “this will keep it out of your way until you can wash it and untangle it—and I assure you it will take hours! I spent half the afternoon doing mine.” She tossed Akila a fine cream-colored shift, twin to the one she was wearing under the cloak which she now took off, shook out, folded carefully, and put away in a chest.

Akila put on the shift while Druscilla climbed into bed, adjusted the bed-curtains, curled up against the headboard, and patted the bed next to her. “Sit down, and I'll try to explain what's happening. To begin with, you're probably wondering who I am."

Well no, I wasn't, Akila thought, but I appreciate the reminder that I'm not supposed to know. What I'm really wondering about, however, is this sudden character change—I thought you were a total idiot.

Druscilla demonstrated her complete lack of telepathy by continuing, “My name is Druscilla, and the Queen is my aunt. She's getting old—"

"Old?” Akila echoed, startled. The Queen hadn't struck her as old at all.

"Old to be marrying the Year-King—she's almost past child-bearing age. And she hasn't any daughters, so I'm her heiress, and she said it was time for me to take her place in the Ritual this year, and I don't want to marry somebody in the spring and sacrifice him at summer's end—I just couldn't, and I couldn't think of what to do to stop them, so I ran away, into the forest, and that's where I met Briam, but I really didn't think we'd be back in time for the Festival, because it took me weeks to get to where I met him, and I certainly never meant for him to be Year-King, and we've got to figure out some way to save him!” She stopped, out of breath, upset, and obviously feeling guilty.

"How long do we have before the sacrifice?” Akila asked.

"Four months."

"How do they do it?” Akila braced herself for the answer, and relaxed slightly when it came.

"They give him to the river—off the city wall."

"Tied up?"

"No, he's supposed to go willingly."

"Do any of them ever survive?"

"One did, about ten years ago,” Druscilla shuddered violently. “But mostly they don't—the water's very turbulent under the waterfall, and there are a lot of rocks. I get nightmares!"

Akila suspected that she would too. “The one that survived, did they try to kill him afterwards?"

Druscilla shuddered again. “No, the Queen said the Goddess had given up her claim to him, and he went away someplace. He scared me, I wouldn't have minded too much if
he
had died. The Queen had a son by him, too.” She changed the subject abruptly. “What's your name?"

"Briam didn't tell you?” Akila frantically tried to remember if Briam had ever called her wolf-self by name in Druscilla's hearing. “It's Akila.” To her relief, Druscilla's face didn't change.

"I am happy to meet you, Akila,” she said politely. “We'd better try to get some sleep; in the morning we've got to sneak you out of town so you can come in to town looking for your brother."

"All right,” Akila agreed, lying down. “It's better than trying to explain how I did get here.” And it is very odd, she thought, that Druscilla hasn't asked that. Not that I want her to, but I do wonder why she doesn't.

Akila was becoming almost accustomed to strange awakenings. This time Druscilla was shaking her violently. “Someone's coming! Quick, under the bed!"

Akila didn't bother to answer; she rolled off the far side of the bed and under it in one smooth motion. She listened to the booted feet approaching and recognized the step. Is the Shield-Bearer the head of the Queen's guard or Druscilla's governess? she wondered. If Druscilla usually takes up this much of her time and energy, I wonder what the Guard is like.

The door was flung open and the booted feet stopped at the side of the doorway. From her position under the bed Akila could see bare feet slipping from under a long purple gown as someone passed the Shield-Bearer and came into the room. The Shield-Bearer then entered the room and shut the door.

"Well, Druscilla? What have you to say for yourself?"

It's the Queen! Akila realized with surprise. But her dress was black yesterday—no, that's right, I was a wolf then, so it only appeared black.

Receiving no answer from Druscilla, the Queen said, “Is she unable to talk? Did you damage her voice when you knocked her out yesterday?"

"I assure you she can talk,” the swordswoman replied dryly. “You should have heard her yesterday after I carried her here."

"She strangled me!” Druscilla burst out indignantly. “She could have killed me for all you care—but then you wouldn't have an heiress, would you?"

"I'm not sure I do in any case,” the Queen replied grimly. “Whatever possessed you to disrupt the ritual?"

"I thought you didn't notice minor incidents like that when you were in ritual trance,” Druscilla said sarcastically.

"I'd have to be deep entranced indeed not to notice my heiress trying to stop the Sacred Marriage! Why on earth did you do it?"

"I love Briam, and I don't want him killed!” Druscilla snapped.

"Oh, Sweet Lady!” the Queen sighed. “I really don't need this. Am I correct in assuming that Briam is the new King?"

"You don't even care!” Druscilla's voice was anguished. “How can you do this, year after year, marry a man in the spring and kill him at summer's end, and never even notice he's a person! Well, Briam's a person and there are people who care about him, and you can't have him!"

"Druscilla,” the Queen sighed tiredly and collapsed to sit on the edge of the bed. “I
do
have him. Haven't you paid any attention to all we've tried to teach you? How can you hope to rule this city if you don't understand the sacrifice? If Briam had been bound to you—or to anyone else—he would not have come to my call. Only those who are not tied elsewhere can hear it."

"But he likes me!” Druscilla protested.

"Darling,” the bed shifted as the Queen reached out to Druscilla, “liking isn't enough. He would have to be committed to you, and obviously he's not."

Druscilla burst into tears. Akila drew back slightly to avoid being kicked by the Queen's restlessly swinging foot, which was uncomfortably close to her nose. The booted feet of the Shield-Bearer approached the bed as well, and Akila could well imagine the look the two women were exchanging over Druscilla's sobbing head.

"Why do you have to kill him anyway?” Druscilla wailed. “You're the Queen and can do what you want—why don't you just abolish the sacrifice?"

"Don't be silly, Druscilla!” the Shield-Bearer said sharply.

"Druscilla,” the Queen said quietly, “the Queen can not do just anything she wants to. Think about it. What makes me the Queen?"

"Your mother was Queen,” Druscilla replied crossly. “Anybody knows that!"

"And when she died I became Queen,” the Queen agreed. “But if I were dead, I wouldn't be Queen, and it wouldn't be difficult for someone to kill me; I lead prayers on the balcony every day."

"But why would anyone kill you?” Druscilla asked in astonishment. “You're the Queen!"

"Queens have been killed before when they did something their people wouldn't accept. We say that the Queen rules by the will of the Goddess, but it's also true that she rules by the will of her people. The last Queen who tried to abolish the Sacrifice was killed."

"I remember that story,” Druscilla snapped, “but, first it was over a hundred years ago, and, second, she was killed by some crazy farmer—it's not as if everyone wanted her dead!"

"One man struck the blow, true,” the Shield-Bearer said. “But if her people had still supported her, he would have been disarmed before he could reach her. He killed her, but everyone else stood by and let him—and then they dragged the king to the river and threw him in."

"And considered themselves specially blessed by the Goddess when the crops were good the next year,” the Queen added.

"But that's just superstition!” Druscilla burst out. “There's no proof at all that the crops failed because the Year-King didn't die at the appointed time, or that they were good the next year because the people killed him and the Queen. You can't believe that nonsense!"

"It doesn't matter in the slightest whether
I
believe it or not, Druscilla,” the Queen said. “What matters in this case is what my people believe. Perhaps one year the Sacrifice will be abolished. But as long as the people want it, it will take place, one way or another. If you were Queen, you would have to do it."

"Never!” Druscilla cried. “And I won't let you kill Briam, either!” She burst into tears again.

"You'll have to send her away,” the swordswoman said with a weary sigh.

"Yes,” the Queen agreed. “No sense in keeping her here to witness what will come."

Druscilla sobbed harder. “Child,” the Queen said gently, “wash your face and go call your maids. You are going to your mother's estate as soon as you are packed, which had better be by midday."