Hammer of Time (The Reforged Trilogy) (24 page)

"Sir Anthem," Maeve said. "I have a more important task for you than serving in my guard."

Anthem straightened and gave his queen a curious look. "As you wish, a'shae. I am yours to command."

"We need knights," Maeve told him. "The Devourers killed most of them during the fall. Yet you lived, Sir Anthem."

He did not look at all certain if this was praise or insult. Good. Maeve knew she was not being charitable, but she found it hard to care. Anthem had abandoned Xartasia for Maeve. She
knew
that it had been an amazing stroke of luck – Logan was right about that, and so was Ferris – but Maeve just could not forgive Anthem for any of it.

"You were Princess Titania's consort and most favored knight for a hundred years before I was even born," Maeve continued. "None living know more of our training, of our arms and armor. You will train a new generation of knights, Sir Anthem."

He listened intently and then swept one wing across his chest. "As you say, my queen. It would be my honor."

"Have Hyra fit you for armor of your own." Maeve clenched her left fist and had to admire the sparkle of the golden-swirled glass. The fit was not perfect, but it was close. "And then you will begin. Your first student will be Ballad Avadain, a boy from Prianus."

"The one in leather?" Duke Ferris asked. "Your Highness, are you sure he is… suitable to be one of your knights?"

"They will not be
my
knights," Maeve said. "They are knights of Kaellisem. Even this small kingdom comes from many worlds."

"They're all Arcadian," Duaal pointed out.

"I'm from Cyrus," Panna said. She smirked at Duaal and Duke Ferris. "Ballad is Prian. Kinrae and Selphia were born on Axis, originally."

"And if we are successful in building Kaellisem as we plan to be, there will be Arcadians here from all across the core," said Maeve. "Ballad is a good man and already an accomplished fighter. A boxer, I believe."

"Boxer?
En summari?
" Ferris asked incredulously.

He used the old Arcadian word for a brawler, usually reserved for dryads or nyads who fought one another. The term was
not
flattering. Arcadians did not fight with their empty hands. Ten thousand years of knightly training and tradition focused on the spear. Duke Ferris' scowl would have wilted grass, if there were any to be found on Stray.

"Malla and Hannu will be trained as well, I assume," Ferris said, struggling to regain control of the situation. "They are loyal and dedicated."

Maeve nodded in agreement. The siblings would make good knights, she expected. But even better, it would give them something more important to do than follow her around.

"There is still the matter of your guard," Duke Ferris said, as though he had heard Maeve's thoughts. "You must be protected, my queen."

"I can and will serve," Anthem said too quickly for Maeve's taste.

"You will be training knights," she reminded him coldly. "You will be busy."

"Sir Anthem is to be your consort," Ferris pointed out. "He will be with you much of the time, a'shae. And it shall come naturally, I know, to protect the beloved and royal person."

Maeve sighed and closed her eyes as she nodded. "Fine," she said without enthusiasm.

"But what about the rest of the time?" asked Panna. "Sir Anthem will be working with the new knights a lot."

"I'll do it," Logan said from the doorway. "I can still protect her."

Maeve's heart leapt at the sight of her hunter but fell just as swiftly. The Prian's expression was icy. Frozen. Duke Ferris scowled dangerously at Coldhand.

"You?" he said. "Where were you this morning? As soon as you were banished from Queen Maeve's bed, you vanished into the dawn!"

Panna and Duaal gasped. Logan fixed his glacial gaze on the Arcadian duke. Gripper crept out onto the balcony behind Logan, chewing worriedly on a thick claw. "I was never far away," Logan told Ferris. "I would – and have – protected Maeve with my life."

Anthem gave Logan a long, appraising look. Dark blue eyes met pale and Logan's illonium-plated hand scraped on the handle of his gun. Anthem's wings stretched out, long pinions fanning like a hundred slender fingers. The two men stood still for a long moment, silently appraising one another.

"You managed the queen's guard before?" Anthem asked at last.

"I did," Logan said.

"What management needed to be done," Duaal added. "We didn't have a lot of manpower and we still don't."

"More reason not to waste it," said Anthem. He turned to address Maeve and Duke Ferris. "I will take over leadership of Her Highness' guard."

"They
will
be knights," Ferris agreed forcefully. "Those trained and selected by you."

Anthem nodded. "But Logan Coldhand has served the queen loyally and until we have knights enough, we will need his help to maintain a constant guard."

Duke Ferris pursed his lips at this, but then he inclined his long-haired head in acquiescence. "Of course, Sir Anthem. I am certain that all propriety will be observed."

Here, he arched a blond brow at Maeve, who felt an acidic stab in her gut. What did that mean?

"Well, this has been awkward," Duaal said cheerfully. "Anthem, are you done staring at Maeve?"

"I have finished my inspection, yes," the knight concluded after a moment's thought. His Aver was far more heavily accented than Maeve's.

"We can get it back to Hyra to make the changes," Duaal offered. "I'm sure he can get them done by tonight."

"I will come with you," Anthem told him. The Blue Phoenix's captain scowled. "I will need armor, too. And I must speak with your glassinger about his work. We will need many spears, but there is little wood for hafts on Stray. Can it be imported?"

Maeve frowned. "We have little money. What we bring from off world are Arcadians, not wood."

"Yes, my queen," Anthem answered. "Then we will need some other material."

"Fiber-carbon tubings should work," said Logan. "It's light, strong and fairly flexible."

Anthem cocked his head at the Prian hunter. "Flexible? You have seen our spears in battle, then? Most assume that they are like stone. Unbending."

"Maeve and I fought many times," Logan said flatly. Anthem frowned.

"But that was a long time ago," added Gripper. "Right, Hunter?"

Logan shrugged in answer. "Take care of your glass," he said to Anthem. "I'll watch over Maeve."

The Arcadian knight nodded slowly. "I will return soon, a'shae," he told Maeve. "I will meet with Ballad, Malla and Hannu. Perhaps they know others who may make suitable knights."

They all went back inside and vanished down the tower. Dain and Duaal began unbuckling Maeve's crystal armor and piling it up on the floor. "This stuff is a lot heavier than it looks," Duaal said when they were done. He gestured to Maeve's other handmaiden, Verra. "How about lending me a wing again?"

The fairy girl nodded and moved to scoop up Maeve's glass pauldrons, but Duke Ferris shook his head. "She and Dain should remain with Queen Maeve. They are, after all, her handmaidens. What if she needs her hair brushed while you are away?"

"I can do it myself," Maeve said.

Duke Ferris waved a fine-boned hand dismissively. "There are any number of other needs to consider. Take Panna with you instead, Captain Sinnay."

Dain looked uncertain, but handed over her armful of glass plates to Panna. Gripper hurried to help. "I've got much bigger hands, Sprite," he told Panna.

Gripper followed Panna and Duaal down the stairs. Anthem bowed his wings once more to Maeve. "I will return soon, my queen and lady."

The knight took her hand and kissed it, then went to the balcony and leapt into the air. He beat his long wings once and was gone. Duke Ferris turned to Maeve with a stiff-looking smile.

"Let us begin," he said, gesturing through a doorway to the room that served as Maeve's office.

"Begin what?" she asked.

Maeve had not spent much time in that room and did not particularly want to. She slid her arms through the gauzy sleeves of a rose-colored dress that Dain held out and took a silver scarf from Verra that she wound several times around her waist.

"I have some ideas," Duke Ferris said. "We must begin building funds, Your Highness."

"I want to fight Xartasia, not buy her gifts," Maeve snapped. "We have enough money."

"With respect," Ferris argued smoothly, "we do not. I have spoken to Panna and Captain Sinnay of it. Kaellisem survives on loans and gifts from your friend, Xyn. But that will not hold out much longer and we owe him a lot of money. We
must
begin generating revenue."

Maeve stalked into the office. Ferris, Logan and the two small Arcadian girls followed her like a line of ducklings.

"Is it not enough that I have agreed to take Sir Anthem as my consort? That I will let you put a crown onto my head tonight?" Maeve asked. She paced furiously back and forth across the smooth, shining floor. One of her bare feet slid on the glass. Why couldn't they afford carpet…? "How many more of these ridiculous displays must I make to be a queen?"

"That
is
being queen," said Ferris. "You are our future, a'shae. You show us what to be."

These last words were slightly strained. Maeve stopped pacing and looked at the fairy duke. "So stop acting like a petulant child? Is that what you are telling me?"

Ferris spread his hand and politely chose not to answer. But Logan did.

"Yes," he said. "It is. You will be whatever your people need you to be. You know that."

Maeve looked into the Prian's sky-colored eyes. He was right, naturally. She turned back to Ferris. "Money, then. If Kaellisem requires me to become an accountant, then an accountant I will become," she said.

"Not an accountant, my queen, but we must begin considering ways to make money. I have already outlined a course of action. We can discuss it now, while you have some breakfast."

Maeve went to her desk. "I am not hungry. Tell me your plan, then, Duke Ferris."

________

Duaal and Gripper had left hastily after delivering the queen's armor to Hyra's workshop. The two young men walked close together, whispering to one another and darting angry glances back at Sir Anthem. Panna wasn't sure what they were talking about, but she could guess.

Hyra, the one-winged glassmith, was happy enough to make the changes that Anthem requested but was less pleased about the knight's request for a dozen more suits of armor and three times that many spears.

"I can make the spears easy, yes," the white-haired old Arcadian said, scratching the back of his calloused hand. "They are simple. But armor is more complicated business. I need Lorren for fine pieces and she works the towers."

"You need more smiths?" Anthem asked. "I thought you had several apprentices?"

"Yes," Hyra answered. "But they do not know much yet."

They stood beneath a patched plastic awning that was coated in a thick layer of brown-red dust. The wind was quiet, but that never stopped the sand from getting everywhere. Hyra pointed with his remaining wing to a pair of young fairy men standing across a table from one another. They held their hands flat on the tabletop, on either side of a tall heap of sifted and washed red Stray sand. The Arcadians sang together in low, sibilant voices. Their eyes were squeezed shut in concentration. Visualizing the results, Panna knew. Magic did not work unless the caster knew
exactly
what they wanted to happen.

The pile of sand began to move, spreading out across the table like a blanket tugged at the corners. It flowed like water and turned the same non-color as it stretched and shaped… almost. Veins of red and orange swirled through in the sheet of finished glass. Heat shimmered over its smooth surface, but not nearly as much as there would have been in a coreworlder forge.

Panna had seen the process before. She insisted on watching the very first pieces of Arcadian glass that Hyra forged on Stray. But it still astonished her every time. She grinned at Hyra, but the smith was watching Sir Anthem.

"Fallo and Dellanon are two of my best," Hyra told the watching knight. "That glass there is the clearest that we can make. The others are out with Lorren, singing up the new towers from the sand plots. It is not as pure as what we make in sheets here, but it is faster and good enough for walls. We sing them a little thicker than we would like to keep them strong."

"And this is the kind of glass we need for armor," said Sir Anthem. It wasn't a question. "Make the spears first. Knights must know how to fight. We will armor them as we may."

"The queen wants you in armor, though," Panna reminded Anthem. "It'll be great to see a real knight in glass armor in Kaellisem."

Hyra looked Anthem up and down. "I can have a suit ready in a week. Three days if I pull Lorren off the towers."

Anthem considered a moment and then nodded. "Do that. I will find you additional singers. We will need a great deal of glass."

"As you say, sir," Hyra agreed. The one-winged smith whistled sharply to his two apprentices. "Come over here, boys. We have work to do on Her Majesty's armor. Did she like the crown?"