ESSA
Now, a grim pall hung over the place. Lacunae in their glistening black armor lined the walls, swords drawn and held in salute, still as statues in the dim light.
Gray Brothers stood in front of them, likewise arranged in a line, their dark hoods shadowing austere faces and cold eyes.
Only the noblemen seemed capable of movement.
A milling, half-drunk mob of them clapped and jeered and whistled as I was paraded past.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw that Ollie had been captured as well. He walked behind me, his eyes darting around, hands clenched. It was some comfort to have him with me, though blood spilled down the side of his face from a wound on his scalp, and the glance he gave me was dark.
It was just the two of us now—against all these treacherous killers.
Ahead, the throne of my mother sat empty. Two men stood before it: Prelate Kortoi, and Lord Natath.
They’d fashioned a belt of chain and shackled my one wrist to it, keeping my arm at a painful angle behind my back. Otherwise, I’d have been showing both of them my middle finger.
“Well. Good morrow, Princess Essaphine,” Natath boomed as I approached.
He was barrel-chested and round-faced, a stout fellow fifty years in age.
He loved ale and tournaments, whores and feasts, and Mother had always thought him a simple man.
But I saw now that she had underestimated him.
He was cruel and clever, too, a dog who’d lain at his master’s feet for years, waiting for the chance to bite.
“Queen Essaphine,” I corrected him.
His eyes narrowed. “You’re not crowned yet. But soon, my dear. Soon.”
A wave of raucous laughter and applause rose from the noble rabble, but Natath raised a hand and stilled them.
“I’m glad to see you again, Your Majesty,” Kortoi said, bowing. “Although I wish it were under gentler circumstances. When last we met, I invited you to come here and join us in peace. It grieves me that you chose to come, instead, with sword in hand.”
“How else to behead a snake?” I shot back.
Kortoi smiled. “And yet, from my vantage there on the balcony, most of the blood I saw belonged not to serpents, but to the poor commoners who followed you here, and to the innocents who were encamped below.”
“Innocents you were using as human shields,” I spat.
The mage tutted. “We see some things differently; that’s no surprise. But I have no doubt we shall come to an accord—for the good of the kingdom.”
Off to one side, I spotted Hoatan, my mother’s Torouman.
He, more than anyone, should have been loyal to my mother.
Torouman were bodyguards as well as councilors, and for one to outlive his charge when she had died of violence was a great shame.
A captain was to go down with his ship, and a Torouman was to defend his charge unto death; that was their oath, but here he was, one of her betrayers.
“I see Hoatan is here as well,” I snarled. “Why the glum face, old man? Are you sad that two stones of this great house still stand atop one another? Were you hoping to destroy everyone and everything completely in your treachery?”
Hoatan gave a small bow, his doughy jowls folding over the top of his blue robes. “I stand ready to serve and offer you my counsel, just as I did your mother.”
“And much good it did her,” I snapped.
He pursed his lips. “I don’t blame you for eschewing my wisdom. But I hope you will listen to your own Torouman, Ollyvar. I see he remains by your side, where a loyal Torouman should be. Tell us, Ollie. What would you counsel your headstrong charge now?”
Ollie glanced at me. As our eyes met, his stony demeanor softened somewhat. “Essa has her own mind,” he said quietly. “If she requests my counsel, I shall give it.”
“I’ll warrant you counseled her against the folly of today’s attack, didn’t you, Ollie?” Kortoi said. “And it’s a shame she didn’t listen. All that blood spent, and for what?”
I felt my face going red. As much as I hated it, he was right. How many men and women had died following me into battle today? I’d squandered their lives like a fool.
“Humor us,” Natath said to Ollie. “What would you counsel her now? Come, don’t be shy. There are spears at your back. I insist.”
Ollie heaved a sigh. He looked at Natath, not at me, as he said, “I would counsel her to beg your forgiveness, and to ask whether your previous offer to work together still stands. I would have her make peace with you for the good of the kingdom—her as queen, you as her royal council. I would tell her to hasten and get the bydrune over with. And to take her rightful place upon the throne—if you would still allow it.”
Snickers and hoots rose from the nobles behind us, but Natath raised a hand, stilling them once more.
“That sounds like wisdom to me, Essa,” Kortoi said. “What say you?”
My lips trembled, I was sneering so hard. “I say take these chains off my wrist. Put a sword in my hand, and I will cut every one of you into pieces so small the wind will scatter you like dust.”
For a moment, there was silence. Ollie sighed again heavily, looking down at his boots.
Kortoi’s eyes gleamed with dark amusement as he watched me. Then, he nodded. “Very well. Unchain her.”
Natath looked at him, startled. The guards hesitated.
“You heard me,” Kortoi said louder. “Unchain her.”
Fumblingly, a Lacuna came forward with a key and released the shackle on my wrist. My chains fell to the floor with a clank.
“Put a sword in her hand,” Kortoi said. When the knight hesitated, Kortoi shouted. “Our princess has requested a sword. Give her one!”
The knight drew his black sword and offered it to me, hilt-first. I hesitated for an instant, then took it—a blade so long and heavy, I could barely hold it up. I turned to Kortoi and Natath then, fire rising in my veins.
Hoatan shuffled a half-step backward. Natath glanced nervously at Kortoi. But the Prelate watched me, unblinking, unafraid.
Scenarios flashed through my mind. Kill Kortoi first. Kill Natath first. Turn and run, make my way to Othura, cut her free…
It was the Torouman training that made me hesitate, the hours spent playing their strategy game, Torzame; one learned to think through every move, to measure the outcome of every action.
And every possibility I examined now ended the same way.
With me on the floor, bleeding out. I had no chance of killing them all.
Attacking them would be like the tantrum of a child.
I’d die for nothing. And what would become of my people then?
I’d already wasted so many lives today, the thought of it almost made tears rise to my eyes. I’d been a fool. An arrogant, angry girl. I wanted someone to pay for my mother’s death. And for Charlie’s… And they were right here. The sword was already in my hand.
“Essa…” Ollie said quietly—a warning.
I could feel Othura with me, too. She was respectful enough to stay silent, to allow me to make my own decisions. But if she were to advise me, I knew what she’d say…
Show the wisdom of a dragon, Dear Heart. Not the courage of a dog.
It killed me, the thought of bending to Kortoi now. Of letting him call my bluff. Of proving him right. But I couldn’t help my people by dying today. I had to be smarter. I had to start acting like a queen.
My teeth bared in frustration, I let the sword clatter to the floor.
A glint of amusement flashed in Kortoi’s eyes. “Very wise,” he said.
“Then you’ll do it?” Natath asked. “You’ll join with us and become queen?”
The glare I gave him could have sparked a fire. “I’ll think about it,” I said.
Kortoi clapped his hands. “And that’s all we can ask. But come now. You’re bleeding. And you must be exhausted after that battle,” he nodded to his men. “Take her.”
“To the dungeon?” Natath asked.
Kortoi scoffed. “Oh, no. Not the dungeon. Her dragon must remain under lock and key, yes. Just for safety’s sake.
But this is our future queen. Give her the finest suite that remains undamaged.
Bring her the finest clothes and perfumes.
Let seven handmaidens be assigned to her.
Let every comfort be hers.” His dark eyes met mine.
“And we shall give her some time to think. To decide. Does she want to die as rebel?—or does she want to live as a queen?”