The Pages of the Mind Read online

  I cleared my throat loudly and she jammed her fists on her hips. “I’m not idling inside Ordnung while a foreign army marches through my lands, marauding and Danu knows what else.”

  I folded my hands and kept my mouth shut.

  “Fine.” She threw up her hands. “Say it already.”

  “You can’t go.”

  “Politics can wait, librarian. There’s a battalion that—”

  “I’m perfectly aware. But your place is on the throne, not on the battle lines. Send all the troops, your Hawks or Vervaldr, even Captain Harlan, but you cannot go.”

  She visibly seethed. “I won’t hide like my father did.”

  “No, you won’t. You’ll be far too busy. You know full well there’s a monumental amount of work to be done to ready Ordnung—including solidifying your relationships with the monarchs and ambassadors whose continuing support you’ll need. Regardless of General Kral’s intention, you must be in a position of secure power when he arrives.”

  “Dafne is right,” Harlan inserted before Ursula could vent the angry words she had ready. “He’ll be looking for weakness. And I’m sorry to say it, but he’ll assume that of a woman.”

  “Then he’ll be in for a surprise,” she snapped.

  “Yes. He will. I’m actually looking forward to witnessing that.” The admiration in his eyes did a great deal to soothe her ire. “But Dafne is correct that Kral will capitalize on any divisiveness he detects. Your soundest strategy is in consolidating your seat here. You will need to be High Queen, without question. I will, of course, remain at your back.”

  “You want me to sit here and wait for his arrival. Knowing your brother, that’s what you advise.”

  Harlan thought a moment, came to a decision with a nod. “Yes. He won’t maraud if it’s not necessary, if only because it will slow him. I advise passing the word as much as possible that he’s not to be opposed and that they should be given any supplies they request. Leave the way clear for Kral to come here and go nowhere else. Move your forces as you can to hem him in on the sides and after he’s passed. Clear the path and, yes, wait for him to arrive, knock at the gates, and tell us what he wants. If you don’t like what he says, you’ll have him trapped.”

  “And if he does have an invasion force anchored offshore? They could come up behind our troops and have us trapped.”

  “That could happen regardless. The positive there is now we are on alert and you can notify Ehas and Elcinea to prepare for that possibility. Send them reinforcements. It’s not quick or easy to invade from ships onto land.”

  “I’ve never had to think that way,” Ursula admitted. She sighed. “All right. I’ll have Jepp’s scouts spread the word. I want everyone inside Ordnung with the gates closed four days from today, in case Harlan has their arrival pegged better than I do. At least Andi, Ami, and the babies are out of Ordnung, should it come to the worst.” She meant siege, of course. In all the flurry of the past hours, that hadn’t occurred to me as a real possibility. For someone with a haunting fear of siege situations, I ended up in them far too often.

  “All right.” Zynda stood and spoke into the foreboding silence that had fallen. “I’ll go this moment. Unless there’s more?”

  We couldn’t think of anything, and we watched, rapt, as the long-bodied woman shimmered, then condensed to the center, and a hummingbird as bright as jewels hovered in midair. Perhaps I’d expected a large raptor, like one of Rayfe’s forms, and an astonished, delighted laugh escaped me. The hummingbird, with an iridescent blue throat the color of Zynda’s eyes, zoomed a spiral around my head and buzzed musically out the window with enviable freedom.

  3

  In an unexpected development, the King of Carienne arrived the afternoon Zynda departed, along with an entourage large enough to be another small army. He’d left court in anger years before, long before Rayfe called in the contract on his betrothal to Andi, and Carienne had never sent an ambassador. They unfailingly paid their tithes, but never offered more than required—and forcibly resisted any of Uorsin’s attempts to bully them into it. As Carienne had been one of the kingdoms that had not been conquered, but rather had voluntarily agreed to join the original Twelve, for the promise of peace and prosperity, they had succeeded in remaining aloof from squabbles, tending to fall out of mind.

  Therefore, no one had been surprised that he had not attended the coronation, and as Carienne had never posed an explicit threat, we’d tabled the question of his fealty for the future.

  The presence of King Groningen with his resplendent black beard and hearty laugh recalled better days—those early years of rebuilding after the Great War, when everyone had hope for a better future—which mitigated the tension that had settled over Ordnung amid rumors of more trouble to come. Particularly when he declared immediate loyalty to Ursula, along with his delight and congratulations at Uorsin’s demise. The entourage, rather than bristling with weapons and hostility, instead brought the unlooked-for gift of the fruits of an excellent harvest to be shared as needed, in celebration of a new era.

  Working quietly with Lise, Ordnung’s chatelaine, I arranged to have those provisions stockpiled, just in case celebration turned to siege.

  In private, Groningen brought apologies for his tardiness, along with tales of a sea monster recently glimpsed swimming in Lake Sullivan. A freshwater lake in the low mountains to the north, Lake Sullivan was so deep that none had ever determined where the bottom might be. At the center, the deep-blue water looked nearly black, and the lake stayed chill even in the hottest summers.

  Ursula offered assistance with the sea monster, suggesting that the Tala might have wizards or shape-shifters who would know how to cope with it, but Groningen laughed, shaking his head.

  “You mistake me, Your Majesty. Our sea monster goes back in legend for centuries and is said to be a bringer of good luck and prosperity. And look! Our harvests seemed to double overnight. My people are saying that magic has returned to the land and awakened our totem spirit.”

  He leaned in, dropping his voice conspiratorially, though the three of us dined alone in the family council chambers, as Harlan had taken the opportunity provided by trusting Ursula to a friendly ally to review Ordnung’s fortifications with Marskal. The chambers had been considerably restored, with the many portraits of Uorsin removed, replaced by three of Ursula and her sisters, painted when they each turned fifteen.

  “In truth, Your Majesty, you would do better to take note of rumors from the misty recesses of the Phoenix River.”

  “In Branli?” Ursula toyed with her wine goblet, appearing unstudied. But Branli also shared a border with Annfwn, and that’s where the former High Priest of Glorianna, Kir, had disappeared to, thinking himself on a holy mission inspired by Glorianna, not concocted by Amelia in revenge for his corrupt influence on the church.

  “Both our side of the river and theirs,” Groningen conceded. “My scouts have not, however, uncovered much to be certain of. Still, there are tales of dark creatures and the dead come to life.”

  I choked a little on my tea and he nodded at me gravely. “As I heard similar stories from Ordnung, I thought you should know.”

  Yes, though what anyone could do about it was another question.

  The morning after Groningen’s arrival, Ursula convened formal court and shared what we knew. By then rumors had been floating among the courtiers, carried through the countryside faster than any scout—or even hummingbird—could go. Zynda had not yet returned, though we didn’t expect her so soon, so whether Stefan’s army would meet General Kral’s remained an open question, with no one quite sure which outcome they hoped for. Harlan opined that his brother would easily dodge the slow-moving bulk of Duranor’s forces.

  Some members of court took the High Queen up on the suggestion that they flee Ordnung, in any direction but Kral’s. Others, notably King Groningen, elected to stay and support the High Throne, even should it come to siege.

  Zynda returned the following morning,
markedly thinner and with an exhausted pallor that belied her story of her human body parking elsewhere while she took on an animal form. In Ursula’s private rooms, she reported that Kral would likely arrive closer to Harlan’s original estimate of four days and had indeed left a ship at anchor in Ehas, paying handsomely in gold to do so. More richly than he need have, as the harbormaster had been unable to explain the price and the Dasnarians had simply handed over several solid gold coins and departed, leaving a small group of intimidating-looking sailors to guard the ship.

  “Not something one would expect of an invading force,” Ursula commented.

  “I’d love to see what coins he used,” Harlan said from a chair by the fire. The weather had grown chilly, though the sun shone brightly enough to satisfy those who worried over omens.

  “I couldn’t carry them, not in that form,” Zynda apologized.

  He waved a hand at her. “I’m mostly curious.”

  “Why?” Ursula frowned at him.

  “We have different coins,” Harlan replied, “that indicate different treasuries. Gold coins are generally used only by the royal family, the other branches of our government, or agencies sponsored by them. Sometimes for a campaign, special coins will be minted as a kind of luck bringing. It would give a hint as to his intentions.” He shrugged. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  “Yes,” Zynda inserted. “I’m glad I made it back in time for formal dinner. I must go bathe and change.”

  “You don’t need to be present,” Ursula told her. “Aren’t you exhausted?”

  Zynda’s grin lightened her face. “A bit tired, but I can’t miss supporting my cousin and High Queen in public. Salena would come back and haunt me for it!”

  Two days later, with all prepared on every front we could think of, the township protected, the road cleared of travelers, we waited those few tense hours for Kral to close the final distance. Ursula offered to take petitions, if only to kill the time, but no one stepped up. To maintain ceremony, along with the appearance of being unintimidated by Kral, Ursula had taken her place on the new throne for the first time since the coronation. It was a truly beautiful thing, a gift from Andi and Rayfe that reminded me of Annfwn, a different sort of splendor that spoke of the magic of nature. Sitting alone where there had once been so many—one for each of the sisters, for Uorsin, and for Salena, empty ever since her death—the throne did the job of heralding a new era. Ursula wore the crown and new clothes that recalled her fighting leathers and their warrior’s menace, but in rich fabrics.

  As Harlan refused to leave her side, standing in his place just below the throne, the outer gates were manned with Vervaldr to conduct the initial conversations with Kral. They knew how to handle it—goddesses knew, Ursula had spent enough time going over every possibility imaginable—but she radiated impatience, clearly wishing to be on the walls herself.

  I spent the time at my table, noting in my journal as much as I could of what had brought us to this point. I intended to keep a journal of these days and perhaps later write a history, my own contribution to archiving this era. Such important information should not be completely lost. It seemed unlikely that I wouldn’t be able to continue the record, but after our disastrous collision with Illyria, everyone anticipated the worst.

  At last, Jepp, looking unusually formal and reserved in the uniform of Ordnung’s guard, entered the hall. Ursula shifted, coming alert, simmering with impatience as Jepp walked down the long aisle. With Marskal outside the walls leading the Hawks and other forces to close behind the Dasnarians, Jepp had the duty of being liaison. She hadn’t liked it either, but Ursula had finally told her that misery loved company and Jepp could damn well be trapped inside the walls, too. She looked better for the days of forced inaction. At least someone had benefited from it.

  “High Queen.” Jepp bowed, her mobile face alight with interest now that something was finally happening. “General Kral of Dasnaria and Imperial Prince of the Royal House of Konyngrr asks admittance to Castle Ordnung and craves an audience with you.”

  Another prediction of Harlan’s correct. So far he hadn’t missed one.

  “And his men?” she asked.

  “He’s willing to leave his battalion outside the walls, if he can bring a personal guard of five.”

  Ursula’s gaze flicked to Harlan, who shook his head and held up three fingers.

  “A personal guard of three and I’ll receive him immediately.”

  A grin of anticipation split Jepp’s face and she bowed again, a bit more saucily than the occasion merited. She wore a big knife and a set of daggers at her hips. Knowing her, she likely had any number more secreted on her person. She strode out and, again, we waited. At least I had my notes to occupy my nervous energy.

  The clatter of heavy boots shattered the tense silence as the Dasnarians entered the hall. From my seated position, I couldn’t see them over the heads of the courtiers immediately, but a rustle ran through the assembly, sounding like surprise and . . . awe?

  Then they came into view. I expected them to be big. Harlan and the Vervaldr were all taller than our average, most of them with substantial bulk. But even surrounded by Vervaldr in Ordnung uniform, General Kral and his three guards outsized them all. No doubt, limited to only three, he’d picked his biggest and baddest. Even given that, Kral himself seemed enormous, an effect enhanced by the gleaming black armor they wore. They all wore broadswords on their backs, but unlike Harlan or any of the Vervaldr, they also wore heavy helms and gauntlets.

  Four armored men. Exactly as Andi had seen. I only wished she’d told me how this would turn out.

  Kral moved like a man accustomed to owning the room. Though I couldn’t see much of his expression behind the helm, he seemed to study Ursula. He also looked to Harlan and away again, showing no sign of recognition. Stopping before her, the men pulled off their helms, which seemed to be a gesture of courtesy, but did not bow.

  “Queen Ursula.” His tone made it a question, his accent thick on the words.

  “ ‘High Queen’ or ‘Your Majesty’ is appropriate, General Kral of Dasnaria and Imperial Prince of the Royal House of Konyngrr. Why do you bring an armed battalion to the High Throne of the Thirteen Kingdoms?”

  Kral looked to Harlan’s man, Brandur, who’d been the one to lead the conversation at the gates, but Harlan stepped forward and translated Ursula’s words. A relief to me that he’d agreed, though he clearly had reservations in greeting his brother’s arrival, but I feared my Dasnarian would not hold up to the delicate nature of this confrontation. Hearing the words Harlan chose only confirmed that. Also, it left me free to make a record of the conversation.

  Kral paused. Harlan had warned us that Dasnarians rarely came straight to the point, instead preferring elaborate verbal dodging. It surprised none of us that Ursula went straight for a clean thrust, but it did take the general aback.

  “I did not expect to find you at the feet of a woman, rabbit,” Kral said in Dasnarian. The slight difference in the way he spoke Harlan’s name made me think he deliberately meant the animal.

  “Answer the High Queen’s question, shark,” Harlan replied, confirming my suspicion. Though he appeared as implacable as ever, his voice held a tone of suppressed anger.

  “Are you a woman’s lapdog, then?” Kral sneered.

  Harlan did not reply, awaiting the answer, as did Ursula, staring down at Kral with convincing cool menace. Always people called Ami the avatar of Glorianna, an easy comparison to make. At moments such as this, I saw the warrior goddess Danu expressed in Ursula’s clear gaze and shining strength. Kral assessed her, possibly rethinking, as if he saw it, too.

  No, she was not what he had expected.

  He spoke to her now, as he ought to have to begin with. “We were uncertain of the state of affairs here or what our reception would be. It seemed best to come in strength, should strength be necessary.”

  Harlan translated and Ursula received the words without reaction.

  �
�And your mission?”

  Kral did not like being questioned. A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Reconnaissance.”

  Ursula’s gaze went to steel. “General Kral of Dasnaria and Imperial Prince of the Royal House of Konyngrr,” she emphasized his titles, pointing out that he’d failed to use hers, “you are on my lands, in my realm, without invitation or diplomatic overtures. You arrogantly walk up to my gates with an armed force and without explanation. Dodging answers to my questions is not in the best interests of your continued good health.”

  Kral and his men flushed with anger as Harlan translated her words, bearing out Harlan’s advice that they would never expect a woman, no matter her rank, to speak to a man so, let alone one of the royal house.

  “You dare threaten me? I could crush your tiny realm without losing an eyelash. Your lands are riddled with weakness, ruled by a woman. My armed force traveled here without any opposition. Ridiculous! Your own people gave us supplies.”

  “Yes, as I commanded them to do. We’ve been watching you all along. Your ship and guard at Ehas have been impounded pending my findings here. You’re trapped and surrounded. I can have you all killed and send your head back to Emperor Hestar with a note suggesting that next time Dasnaria should wait for an invitation.”

  Kral actually snarled, advancing a step, to be stopped by a fence of blades from the Vervaldr. He glared at them. “Where is your loyalty to your motherland?” None replied, frustrating him further.

  “If you are here to start a war, General Kral of Dasnaria and Imperial Prince of the Royal House of Konyngrr, then you and your men will assuredly be the first casualties. We have weapons you cannot imagine.” Ursula said, as softly as the whisk of a blade edge on a sharpening stone. “Zynda, would you mind demonstrating?”

  The Tala woman stepped forward, flashing the Dasnarians a brilliant, sensual smile that all but Kral automatically returned, appreciation for her beauty in the filmy gown she wore evident in their eyes. Admiration that changed to shock and horror when she transformed in a blink into an enormous tiger. I’d seen only drawings of them in books, and the reality eclipsed even those stunning images. She sauntered toward the men, sat, and lifted a paw bigger than my head, licking it and lavishly displaying wicked claws.