Chapter Fifteen
Tyrael made his way, unhurried, back up through the tiers of the city until he reached the palace gates.
He expected to enter through the same wicket by which they had all left not long ago but instead found Captain Myrina waiting for him outside it.
She was accompanied by an escort of Amazons wearing silken tabards.
“Have your comrades departed?” she asked.
“They have,” Tyrael said. “I am here to reclaim my sword. I was told the queen has it in her keeping and that she wishes to speak with me.”
“Yes, she will trade your sword for a bit of conversation. I hope you will not find the terms of the deal too burdensome. Please, come with me.”
Instead of walking Tyrael like a captive under guard, Myrina fell in beside him as if he were a respected acquaintance.
Together, they left the portico and main gate of the palace, traveling the lanes and squares that followed and abutted its high walls.
Though Tyrael had traveled to Skovos before, and he had walked the streets of Temis, he had little memory of them.
Disconcertingly, this was not an isolated lapse.
It seemed that when his eons of angelic existence had been compressed into a fallible, mortal mind, some of his memories had become lost or inaccessible.
The captain walked with her hands clasped behind her back, her chin high. The townsfolk they passed gave the Amazons a wide, deferential berth. Tyrael noted how some of them appeared quite cowed.
“As I’m sure you’ve guessed,” said Myrina, “the queen is likely to ask you more about your armor. And your sword.”
Tyrael nodded. “I hope she will not be too disappointed when I have little more to say.”
“She will be.” Myrina offered a slight grin.
“But not to worry. I suspect she also wishes to inquire about your travels. We Askari have always been an insular people, but our self-imposed seclusion has only grown in recent years, out of necessity. I think Queen Etara would welcome news from other parts of Sanctuary.”
“You seem to know her well.”
“I do, and in that way, I am fortunate. Not every daughter can claim such affinity with her mother.”
Tyrael startled at that revelation. “Queen Etara is your mother?”
“Yes, she—Did no one mention that to you?”
“No one.”
Myrina seemed surprised by that but also somewhat pleased.
“People often assume that my parentage has afforded me a rank beyond my talents. If anything, I have had to work harder. Queen Etara is my ruler before she is my mother, just as I am her captain before I am her daughter. We both have our duties to Skovos.”
“Does your rank mean you will be queen one day?” Tyrael meant for the question to be mildly provocative, to see how the captain answered it.
“I am next in line,” she said, without hesitation but also without any apparent pride.
“But not by birthright. Our monarchy is not hereditary. By tradition, the seniormost captain becomes the next queen, which is a much more civilized method of coronation than in centuries past. At one time, ancient laws allowed any Amazon warrior to challenge the queen for the crown. Thankfully, such combat has been unheard of for a very long time.”
They arrived at a secondary entrance toward the rear of the palace complex, heavily fortified but not so grand as the main gates.
The doors opened at their approach, admitting them through a passage into a broad cobbled courtyard surrounded by high walls and overlooked by Firstborn towers and statues of angels and demons.
In addition to many doorways and corridors branching off the courtyard, an ornate archway stood on the far side with a view of greenery beyond.
“Before we go any further,” Myrina said, “you should know I will not risk any harm to the queen. If you give me the least sign that you are a threat, I will not hesitate to kill you.”
“Are we not past this?” asked Tyrael.
“In times like these, we are never past this.”
With that, she led him across the courtyard and through the archway.
They entered a private garden hemmed in by thick cypress.
Honeybees lighted among roses, flowering herbs, and citrus trees, and the distant plucking of a lyre could be heard, as if from a tower window above.
They followed a winding gravel path through plant beds, hedges, and trees, eventually arriving at a central fountain sculpted to resemble leaping dolphins.
Nearby, Queen Etara sat at a lacquered table with El’druin laid across her lap.
She had removed her armor and now wore a flowing peplos dress, secured at the shoulders with golden pins.
As Tyrael approached her, he bowed his head and said, “Be careful with that sword, your majesty. I would not want you to cut yourself. Despite its age, the blade is keen.”
The queen arched an eyebrow. “It is foolish to think an Amazon needs your advice on handling a blade. Even an old warrior like me.”
“Of course,” Tyrael said. “I meant no offense.”
“And I took none. Come, Faysal, sit with me.”
Tyrael claimed the chair opposite her across the table, while Myrina took up a position directly behind him.
“Might we have some privacy, Captain?” the queen asked.
Tyrael refrained from turning to look, but a moment later, he heard Myrina’s grudging footsteps move away, far enough for them to have a discreet conversation but near enough for her to intervene should she feel the need had arisen.
A lark in one of the trees began to sing over the trilling of the fountain.
The setting, lovely as it was, felt odd in contrast with the relative privation seen elsewhere.
“I hope you do not feel too ill-treated,” the queen said. “With our history of fighting piracy, we must take certain precautions, you understand.”
“I do. You must protect your people, and Skovos faces many threats.”
She frowned slightly. “To what threats are you referring?”
“Piracy, smuggling, the Drowned.”
The queen flicked her hand dismissively.
“Myrina assures me that smuggling is only a very minor problem, and as for the Drowned, you are thinking of what Captain Adreona said earlier.” She continued without waiting for confirmation.
“She is excessively preoccupied with our defenses. I think our experience with the reapers has left her expecting attacks at all times, for which I suppose I cannot fault her. However, I think she occasionally…overstates the danger, which risks causing a panic among the people. We have faced the Drowned for millennia, and we know how to deal with them. Still, it is better to be overprepared than underprepared.”
“That is true.”
“The important thing is, Skovos is strong enough to meet whatever challenges we might face. As you astutely observed, we have weathered the near destruction of Sanctuary better than other nations.”
Tyrael could plainly see she derived a measure of pride from that, which he decided to exploit to learn more. “I remain very interested in how you have achieved your recovery. Can you tell me about the Askarra Guard?”
“Yes, we formed them after the reapers to help us restore order. We deployed them to all the islands, dispensing swift justice against those who sought to exploit the turmoil for their own gain. They have been instrumental in safeguarding our supply chains of food and other goods so that none go hungry. Their presence is a great reassurance to the people.”
The Askari civilians Tyrael had seen thus far seemed more intimidated than reassured, but he thought better of mentioning that. “And you find the Askarra Guard are still needed? The Reaping happened years ago…”
“Captain Myrina assures me they continue to be of vital importance to Skovos.”
The way the queen spoke gave Tyrael the impression that she relied on Myrina for much of her information and decision-making.
He suspected it was the captain who managed the daily functions of the Askarra Guard, and likely much of the administration throughout the islands.
He wondered whether Etara was truly aware of the challenges facing her people.
“Enough about all of that.” The queen traced her finger along El’druin’s spine. “I am curious about you and how you truly came by your armor.”
“There is nothing more to tell than what I have already told you.”
“Really?” she said. “I thought perhaps you might be a paladin.”
“You are perceptive,” said Tyrael. “Some might say I am akin to a paladin, though I would not claim that title for myself, nor have I sworn myself to any such order. I have known paladins, and some can be…overly zealous.”
“That is true. Here in Skovos, we’ve never had many followers of Akarat, nor worshippers of the Light.
Our people are free to pray how they choose, of course.
We do not forbid the practice of Zakarum or Skatsim or any other faith.
But prophets and missionaries often have a difficult time making converts of the Askari.
We are quite fulfilled in our adherence to the virtues laid down by our ancestors. ”
“Those virtues have guided you well,” he said.
“And now I suppose you will want your sword,” she said. “It is a remarkable blade. Also angelic, is it not?”
“It is,” he said. “I have had it for so long, it feels as though it is almost a part of me.”
“I feel the same way about my spear, the Thorn of Skovos. It is inscribed with runes that make it a fearsome and powerful weapon, but it has been many years since I wielded it in battle.”
“Perhaps you may yet again.”
The queen laughed. “I think, Faysal, that you are a flatterer. No, my fighting days are done, and I am content to leave the battles in younger hands.”