Last Battle of the Icemark (6 page)

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I truly believe that it is impossible for Thirrin Freer Strong-in-the-Arm Lindenshield to either commit or cause evil of any sort anywhere in Creation. And any who have fallen into the Darkness have done so by their own choice.”

A small sad smile touched her lips, and she blinked rapidly to clear her eyes of tears before the escort of werewolves came in.

Once again she assumed the role of Monarch, and raising her head proudly she said: “Then let us join in the feast of the Goddess. Our people await.”

C
HAPTER
6

S
uddenly a fanfare sounded, and all of the guests turned to look out over the hall. In the past few minutes the tables had been filled to capacity, musicians had started to play in the minstrels' gallery over the main doors, and acrobats had begun their glittering displays of tumbling and diving all along the walkways between the benches. But now everything froze and fell silent, as though one of the amazing painters from the Southern Continent had captured the entire scene on a massively broad canvas.

All eyes were turned to the huge double doors, and a murmur rose up as the Queen's Ukpik bodyguard appeared, marching in step, their ferocious faces glaring rigidly ahead. Then Queen Thirrin herself arrived, walking with Tharaman-Thar and Grishmak, the King of the Wolf-folk. Behind them came Krisafitsa-Tharina and Oskan Witchfather, and at the rear walked Crown Princess Cressida. All the guests in the Great Hall stood and bowed as they swept past.

Kirimin couldn't help noticing that her father had on his ‘regal face', as her mother put it, and he inclined his head haughtily to right and left as the Royal party processed to the
dais. But catching sight of his daughter, he winked and let his whiskers droop comically, before resuming his Royal dignity and surveying all from the huge height of his regality.

Krisafitsa soon spied her daughter already seated at the top table and critically scanned her appearance. She approved enormously; Kirimin was almost fully-grown and was very beautiful indeed. If only she could iron out the more
exuberant
parts of her personality then perhaps she would make a fitting Princess. Of course, the enthusiasm and playfulness came from her father, and there was very little that could be done about that, but a true member of the Royal Family of the Icesheets should learn to control her nature and present a restrained and dignified face to the world.

They arrived at the top table and all sense of decorum was lost as Tharaman started to fuss over everybody, making sure everyone had enough cushions and was comfortable, rearranging the chairs and knocking over jugs and bowls.

“Darling, might it be a good idea to leave the arrangements to the chamberlains?” asked Krisafitsa gently.

“Eh? What? I'm just making sure everyone's comfortable . . . ah, Sharley! Mekhmet!” he boomed, immediately distracted from his reordering of the seating arrangements as he caught sight of the boys. “Well, you look jolly smart in your . . . in your Desert robe thingies! Yes, very smart!”

Both boys stood and bowed correctly. “Oh, yes! Very . . . don't they, Krisafitsa, my love?” he went on.

“Yes, darling, they do. Now, sit down. Thirrin wants to formally announce the start of the feast.”

“Oh, right! Yes . . . well, why didn't you say?”

Thirrin had been waiting patiently during Tharaman's chaos, and now stood forward and looked out over the hall.
“The great ceremony of Samhein is upon us once again, my people. And, as has been decreed by the Mother Goddess Herself, and Her consort the God, we have acknowledged the day with rite, ritual and holy procedure. Let us stand now, and receive the blessing of Oskan Witchfather, the senior priest in the service of the Lady.”

A great scuffling and scraping of benches then sounded throughout the hall as everyone stood and turned to face the dais. Oskan stepped forward, dressed entirely in black but for a thin circlet of silver, etched with the phases of the moon, about his brow. His stern face was beginning to show the lines and furrows of the many harrowing experiences he'd lived through, and his once jet-black hair was now touched with grey at the temples. As he stood rigid and unmoving before the gathering of human, werewolf and Snow Leopard, he looked like a statue of some wise and mighty king from the far heroic past. None guessed of the struggle and uncertainty that was tormenting him. They saw only the great Adept and Witchfather who had helped to guide them through the troubles and chaos of two wars. Everyone believed they could rely upon him and his powers to keep them safe, no matter what the strength of the enemy. Everyone believed he would always be unswervingly loyal to the cause of the Icemark.

“Children of the Goddess, be reminded at this feast of Samhein that all of us here are mortal and destined to die. Such is our lot in life. If accident or war, disease or unlawful death does not take us, then the creeping enfeeblement of old age certainly will. The mightiest warrior cannot defeat the Reaper of Souls, nor can the greatest athlete outrun him. He will always be victor in the long run of life.”

His sombre words echoed over the silent hall, and everyone
felt the truth of them sinking into their very souls. But then Oskan's face broke into a wide and warmly loving smile. “But at the moment we're alive! The fire is warm, the food is good, and the wine and beer are just begging to be drunk. Let us celebrate these gifts of the Goddess! She is the greatest of all Mothers, and loves to see her children enjoying their lives. But also remember that the spirits of the beloved dead move among us, so let us do them proper honour by singing and dancing, and also by drinking and eating more than we should!”

A great cheer rose up, the musicians started to play and the acrobats cascaded into the air in a dazzle of sequins and skill. Chamberlains and servants now poured into the Great Hall, carrying huge trays and platters of food that steamed and bubbled, hissed and sizzled, as delicious aromas filled the enormous space.

Soon the top table was mountainous with food of every imaginable type. Grishmak heaped his plate hugely, demolishing half of it in one mouthful. “Great grub as usual, Thirrin,” he bellowed, then turned his huge bloodshot eyes on the Snow Leopard King. “Are you ready for a small duel, Tharaman? I choose beef and gravy as the weapons, the winner being the one who eats the most and can still walk out of the hall at the end of the evening!”

“Right!” said the Thar, the light of battle in his eye. “You're on!”

“Oh, please!” said Krisafitsa in despair. “Does every meal have to be a competition? Can't we just enjoy the food for its own sake, for once?”

Kirimin laughed. “I think Dad's determined to defend his crown as Chief Glutton of the Alliance.”

“Indeed I am, especially as it was so hard won from Olememnon last year. It's a pity he's not here tonight.”

“He'll be with us soon,” said Thirrin.

“But when he does arrive I don't think there'll be much time for party games, Tharaman,” said Crown Princess Cressida sternly. “The Polypontian Empire may be dying as we speak, but its passing is far from quiet and easy. Wars are raging throughout its lands, and there are rumours of a movement of people far to the south that could become a threat to us all.”

Thirrin suddenly looked tired. Unlike her husband, she seemed untouched by the passing of time; her complexion was still flawless, and her red hair was as fiery and as lustrous as ever, but at the mention of war she physically sagged. It felt as if she'd spent most of her reign on horseback, fighting to save her tiny land from invasion and defeat. And even now, after the empire had finally started to break up following the deaths of Scipio Bellorum and his sons, there were still threats to the Icemark's liberty in the form of Erinor and her undefeated Hordes. And added even to that was the devastating news about Medea and her fall to the Darkness. There were times when a quiet life lived in obscurity seemed far more attractive than mere power and rule. She thought she'd quite like to have been a baker, with a little shop in a quiet town somewhere. But her pleasant daydream was interrupted by Oskan nudging her.

“Can't you do something with your daughter?” he murmured. “It's so typical that she should spoil the party atmosphere with talk of war.”

For a moment Thirrin thought he was talking of Medea, but then realised that it was Cressida who was the cause of his
annoyance. “She's your daughter too, you know!” she murmured back. “But yes, you're right. I'll distract her and then you can zap her with a happy spell!”

He smiled. “It wouldn't work. She's immune to magic.”

“She's probably even more immune to happiness!” said Thirrin. “Try and get Sharley and Mekhmet going, they'll soon liven things up.”

He nodded in agreement and turned to the boys. “How are your horses recovering after the sea crossing?”

“Great, thanks, Dad,” Sharley replied. “Suleiman's almost back to normal, and so's Jaspat, isn't he, Mekhmet?”

“Yes, we're hoping to go for a trek through the Great Forest for a few days, to blow away the last of the cobwebs and get the horses back up to strength. Kiri's coming too.”

“Oh,
is
she?” said Krisafitsa, looking up. “That's news to me.”

Kirimin removed her muzzle from the bowl of apple pudding and custard she'd been eating, and gazed at her mother entreatingly as custard dripped from her long whiskers. She loved human food, particularly the puddings, but in the sudden crisis she forgot all about eating as she desperately tried to think what to say. She knew she should have spoken earlier about going with the boys to the Great Forest, but she'd just kept putting it off. Sometimes talking to her own mother was more daunting than meeting a room full of strangers.

“Oh,
please
let me go, Mama! I meant to ask you earlier, but the time never seemed quite right. It's perfectly safe in the forest, ask the boys, and there'll be three of us anyway, and they'll have their scimitars and armour and I can fight well, ask Eodred and Howler, I helped break their shield wall only this lunchtime, and there're no enemies in the forest anyway,
but if there was we'd be able to beat them easily, wouldn't we boys, yes, see, no problem, and we'll be sensible, especially me, and we won't take any risks and we're only going for three days, if you let me go, that is, so we won't be able to go that far, and even if we did we still wouldn't be in any danger, would we, boys? No, see . . .” Her voice trailed away as she remembered that she had to breathe, and she looked imploringly at her mother, who was licking her paw.

“I'm not sure that the Great Forest is the right sort of environment for a young princess, even if there aren't any dangers,” said Krisafitsa doubtfully.

“Why not?” asked Kirimin, trying to ignore the sense of despair that was growing inside her. “There's . . . there's nothing
vulgar
or
improper
about the forest. It just
is
! It's nature, and . . . and natural things, and you said yourself that a proper interest in the natural world was a good thing for a young lady.”

“Indeed I did,” Krisafitsa agreed quietly. “But I meant that the subject could be studied in a classroom, with a tutor and with a proper sense of
decorum.”

Kirimin lowered her head sadly as she sensed defeat. For her mother, decorum and correct behaviour were the most important things in the life of a young princess, and anything that threatened these things must be avoided at all costs. Sometimes she hated being a member of the Snow Leopard Royal Family; everything she wanted to do had to be analysed and studied before she dared even move.

“I wonder . . . I wonder if I might make a contribution to this discussion?” said a voice. All eyes turned to look at Maggiore Totus, who'd been watching the small but desperate battle of wills between Krisafitsa and her daughter.

“Please do, Maggie,” said the Tharina graciously. “I'm sure your undoubted wisdom will make my daughter see sense.”

“Well, first I'd like to volunteer my services as a tutor to the Princess. I've found retirement to be endlessly boring and I feel Kirimin would add a much-needed sense of
energy
to my life.”

“Hah, accepted, Maggie!” boomed Tharaman, who'd been watching the struggle between his mate and daughter with the usual sense of despair. “She'd benefit massively from your input, wouldn't she, dear?”

“Indeed she would,” Krisafitsa agreed.

“Oh, I'm so pleased,” said Maggie, beaming through his thick spectoculums. “Then may I assume that I can begin my duties immediately and set the Princess an assignment to be prepared before our first lesson . . . say, in four days' time?”

“Indeed, I'd like nothing better, Maggiore,” said Krisafitsa, purring deeply.

“In that case, Ma'am, I'd like your permission to send Kirimin on a field trip to the Great Forest.”

“Oh! Well, I'm not sure . . .”

“I would, of course, insist that the study had a proper scientific basis, Ma'am,” said the old scholar, and turning to Kirimin, he continued: “I want you to observe the preparations for winter on the part of the wildlife of the forest, my dear. I will expect a detailed report on such activity categorised as either flora or fauna, and sub-categorised by species, do you understand?” he asked in a stern teacherly voice, but when no one else was looking he winked and smiled.