Chapter 33 Isabel
Ikneeled and cupped a delicate flower. The heart-shaped petals with their bright purple line were among my favorites.
I sat on the ground and crossed my legs.
The bloom’s sweet fragrance hung in the air and heightened my awareness as I closed my eyes to meditate.
The garden was the one place in the world where I, Queen of the largest nation in the world, could be alone.
There were no courtiers, no ladies, no peasants begging for this or that—and no children.
Sweet Irina, no children!
What a wonderful thought.
I cleared my mind, erasing the images of the garden, turning toward blessed emptiness. In that place of nothing, that darkness, I was most aware and could See beyond.
My mind’s eye opened, and darkness was replaced by a wide road, the King’s Road. Thousands of archers marched in orderly columns.
I shifted my Sight to the head of the columns to find the tail of another line of mounted knights.
Dark tunics lay beneath cloaks of emerald and ash.
Each man wore sharply pointed helms that glinted like the peaks of the Spires themselves.
Verdant banners framed in gold fringe, embroidered with the white outline of the Spires, snapped in the breeze.
Ahead of the horsemen, the eastern mountains towered.
My Sight shifted again, and a town came into view, little more than a village really. I focused intently on memories of my daughter and was rewarded with a vision of Jess and Danym sitting at a table by a roaring fire.
“Issy, the Council is assembling.” Alfred’s voice startled me, and the vision winked out. He knew I meditated, but I’d never told my husband about my Sight. Some Gifts were better not shared.
I blinked a few times and rubbed my eyes. “I’ll be right there. Give me a minute or two.”
Alfred patted my shoulder and left me alone in the garden.
I sighed.
For one blissful moment, I’d had the world to myself. As always, it didn’t last.
I unfolded my legs and stood in the fluid motion of an acrobat, never touching the ground with my hands.
It was a point of pride that, at forty-one winters, I was still athletic and limber.
I reached down toward my toes, stretching tight legs and a stiff back, and spotted the gold-and-purple bloom inches from my face.
A smile parted my lips as I cradled it between my fingers.
My second Gift stirred, and the bloom burst into flame.
When I entered the Throne Room, the Council was already assembled. Alfred was seated on his throne watching a heated discussion. I ascended the dais, surveying the body language of the Councilors before us.
All eyes were on Trade Minister Carver, whose cheeks were flushed and breathing was labored.
Chancellor Thorn sat at the foot of the table, back straight, chin high, a stone unmoved by the storm.
General Marks and Minister Bril whispered at the table’s other end while the remaining Ministers filled seats in between.
Carver waved his arms wildly as he spoke, lace ruffles flapping and snapping with each gesture.
“Your Majesty, this is madness. Melucia is our largest trading partner, and, if the Chancellor’s information is correct, they have four or five times our number of Gifted. Why would they need to steal what few we have? Why would they risk so much to gain so little?”
I had never seen the pompous man so flushed. His powdered wig was disheveled and cocked to the side while his exquisite coat lay rumpled on the back of his chair.
Thorn barely let the room breathe. “Because they know our military might would crush them without magic. They want to take the last of our Gifted to ensure we can never attempt to master them again.”
“Master them? Who wants to master anyone?” Carver spit back.
While the Councilors argued, I leaned toward Alfred and whispered, “What did I miss? You have them worked up this morning.”
The King didn’t return my smile. “We have new reports from Sebastiano’s network tying the missing Gifted to Melucia.”
“Melucia?” My eyes widened.
Alfred rose, silencing his advisors. “Sebastiano, walk us through your reports again. The Queen hasn’t heard this information, and I need a moment to think.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” The High Sheriff stood and gathered notes scattered across the table.
“The first reported kidnapping occurred in Marlon, a small fishing village that only has two Constables.
Only one item was found where we believe the kidnapping occurred: a button embossed with the symbol of an owl, wings outstretched, which matches those worn by Melucian Rangers.
“We disregarded the button as coincidence until our team in Cooper reported finding a few Melucian coins on the floor of the home where that kidnapping occurred. Cooper is the furthest town from Melucia, and it’s unusual to see foreign gold turn up so far west.
“In Ario, where the Natural was taken, we found no relevant evidence. However, in Crelt, where the most recent kidnapping occurred, an old man selling clams at the docks witnessed two men in brown robes helping what he assumed was a drunk friend onto a small boat.
One of the men stepped off the boat, removed his cloak, and bent to tie his boot laces. The old man served in the Royal Guard for twenty years, was stationed in Huntcliff for most of that time. He said he would recognize Rangers’ boots anywhere because of the embossed owl on the ankle.
He described the symbol perfectly.”
The King remained silent as he paced before the throne, hands clasped behind his back.
The Sheriff spoke again, “Your Majesties, this is all still coincidental. As Minister Carver said, Melucia is our greatest trading partner, and the items found are common. No one has seen the missing Gifted cross the border,
and there has been no aggression or incursion into our territory by the Rangers, or any other Melucians, for that matter.”
“Perhaps no aggression, but they have increased patrols and their presence in the mountains.”
General Marks joined the fray. “Your Majesty, we must prepare for every possibility. The two units currently headed to the border will not be enough if the enemy attacks. We need enough to counter . . . or preempt—”
I stood and joined Alfred. “Preempt?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. If we wait to defend, we allow Melucia’s generals to choose the time and manner of the battle. With their advantage in magic, our border would be nearly impossible to defend; but, if we attacked first, caught them unaware, we set the terms for the engagement.
With our advantage in numbers, that is a battle I’m confident we can win.”
The Councilors around the table erupted, each shouting to make his point above the others.
Alfred whispered to me, “What do you think?”
“We both want to reign in peace, but I fear others may have already chosen the path of war.”
Alfred’s head drooped as he rubbed his temples. When he spoke, his voice was low and quiet but somehow stilled the chaos of the Council. “General Marks, how long would it take to get the Army into position?”
“Winter is nearly here, Your Majesty. No one, not even the Melucians with their magic, could move an army over the mountains once the snows begin. That gives us four or five months to prepare.”
The King turned away and stared at the back of his throne for a long moment.
He spoke in a near-whisper, his gaze never leaving the ornate crown carved into the top of his seat of power. “Get the Army ready, General. No one crosses the border without my order, but I want the men in place before the spring thaw.”
My mind raced as I hurried through the halls of the Palace toward my study.
The pieces were falling into place. The clues left at the kidnapping sites had worked perfectly, especially the Rangers’ boots.
Those little droppings had been Thorn’s idea.
His network of spies was buried so deep inside the High Sheriff’s organization that he knew about the kidnappings before even Sebastiano.
Adding a little seasoning to the crime scenes had been a simple task.
My well-rehearsed performance, challenging preemptive action, forced Councilors to actively defend their suppositions and press for action.
For thirty years, Alfred droned incessantly about preserving the peace he was gifted by a thousand years of kings before him.
Yet today, we had won even the King to the side of battle.
The Council ultimately supported action—everyone except that horse’s ass Carver—and the entire Army would move toward the border soon.
The Kingdom was preparing for war.
Now all I needed was to get Jess back under control.
The thought of my spoiled, willful daughter made my neck flare with heat. That girl had been given everything. Years had been wasted coddling Jess, giving her a soft youth in exchange for the future to come.
Then, at the first hint of a required sacrifice, Jess had rebelled.
How dare she defy her mother when the family needed unity now more than ever? If her little adventure became widely known, it would shake confidence in the throne. Jess had to realize that some things were more important than her pitiful little heart.
I had come to that conclusion long ago.
Thanks to my Sight, I knew exactly where Jess was hiding. The girl wasn’t even doing that very well, sitting in the middle of a public tavern like some peasant.
How should I bring her home?
I could simply have her taken by force and returned, but that would only heighten tensions between us.
No, it needed to be Jess’s idea to return.
Thorn was waiting when I entered my study.
“You did well this morning, Danai. I expected more of a fight, especially from Alfred.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty, but I believe your deftness added the final blow.”
I glided to a tea cart and poured a cup. “So, where are we?”
“Things are moving along nicely. Council broke three hours ago, and Minister Bril has already ordered units into action.
He only held back four, one for protection of the capital and three to guard the port towns of Cooper, Kitchton, and Brighton.
He also ordered our fleet to begin patrols of the Fersh Bay and the waters off Freeport.
They’ll be in position to form a blockade when ordered.
Bril even increased training quotas at the Academy and other military recruitment offices.
I think he’s actually excited to see some action.
“As for our little escapee, my agents note their every move. They stand ready for whatever you command.”
“Good. Have them remain out of sight. I am still debating how to handle her.” I took a sip. “What about on the Melucian side? You still haven’t told me your plan there.”
Something shifted on Thorn’s face.
“The Melucians discovered one of my agents who was embedded in the Guard. I ordered all other agents into silence until further notice. We are blind for the moment.”
“They were bound to find one at some point. You have, what, ten, twelve embedded throughout Saltstone?”
Thorn shifted in his seat, avoiding my eyes. “Roughly, Your Majesty.”
I shook my head. “After all this time, you guard your secrets, even from me.”
“Forgive me, Your Majesty. It’s an old habit and for your own protection. You know that one effect of my Telepathic Gift is protection from mental intrusion. Without that Gift, your mind is vulnerable to those who might use theirs to sift through your memories. I merely act to protect our plans.”
This was a painfully familiar conversation. I remained dubious. I’d never heard that magical theory from any other Mage. Then again, there were no other Telepaths in the Kingdom’s Guild. Maybe he was being honest, but something made me pause every time he repeated this lesson.
“Fine. How long will you keep the network quiet?”
“That depends on the Melucians. They are searching for more agents—quite aggressively. We dare not move too quickly, or we risk the entire network.”
Something didn’t feel right. I needed to think. “What about the Conclave? The King will need to present the case for war to the nobles. They feed and supply our armies.”
Thorn spun the ruby ring he wore. “Yes, he will need to be impressive on that day, but nothing decided today would force the Conclave, so we have some time to build the public case for war. If the people support the King, the nobles will have no choice.”
“You’re probably right, but the entire plan hinges on their support.”
I stood and moved to a bookshelf, not really seeing any of the books. “I need to think, Danai. Leave me.”
The door’s latch clicked, and I smiled at the silence that filled the room.
I scanned the ancient leather-bound volumes.
Running a finger across faded leather, I realized I’d never even looked at many of the books that filled the shelves.
Histories of every nation, stories of distinguished men—Why always men?
—even fictions of magical lands, creatures, and people.
I noticed a few my mother read to me when I was a child and smiled fondly at the memory.
As I turned, a dusty tome on the top shelf caught my eye.
Its leather had been dyed an odd crimson that time had worn to near black.
Cracked gold script on the spine formed words I couldn’t comprehend, but curiosity overcame me.
I slid the rolling ladder into place and climbed a few rungs.
I squinted to make out a date on the spine—nearly twelve hundred years ago.
My heartbeat quickened as I reached for the book, gently running my finger across its spine.
With a reverence few things warranted from a queen, I pried the book from its neighbors.
Standing on the ladder, I opened the cover.
Pages crinkled as I flipped them. Still, I smiled at how well preserved they were.
I couldn’t puzzle out any of the strange symbols scrawled across the parchment but discovered a map on the last page.
It was stunning, both in its detail and artistry.
I traced a finger over the familiar shape of the continent, surrounded by a smattering of islands.
Gold filigree surrounded bright greens and blues, giving the map a richness rarely seen even in modern works of art.
Then two things seized my eye: on a large island to the southeast of the Melucian end of the continent was a concentration of the shimmering gold, as if the artist had accidentally dripped a large amount of the precious ink onto the page.
That was curious, given how meticulous I’d found the rest of the book.
I grinned at the second revelation.
There were no borders inked on the continent. The massive land was wreathed in gold but not separated by it. I scanned the page again and realized there was only one name large enough to represent a nation, and that’s when it hit me—there was only one nation, one Kingdom.
This had to be Irina’s map, crafted when every lord bent the knee to her power and majesty.
The histories all agreed that the Melucians ultimately rebelled against her rule, but Irina’s banner still extended from sea to sea throughout much of her reign. This book was a priceless relic of a time long past, a time when all people were unified under the rule of one woman.
This was the sign, the sign I’d sought.
The Spirits, or whatever was looming over humanity’s shoulder, had led me to this moment, to a new age.
This would be my time.