Chapter One
The snow flurries danced around her feet, the damp cold flushing her cheeks. She watched as the glistening snow covered the great expanse before her.
Henrique watched her and felt the deep pain with her, "We should head back my lady. The others will be worried if we stay out much longer," he murmured trying to pull her away from her thoughts. She continued to stare out into the treacherous expanse.
She saw the houses, the fires, the children, now all gone beneath the winter haze. She breathed in the chokingly cold air to keep from crying out. It was gone forever. A whole kingdom dismantled under one act of vengeance. Her only friend murdered while she left him for the calling of a crude and greedy king. Now even more war ravaged the land. The northern kingdoms fought for dominance in a never ending dispute. Soon her eastern kingdom would join the rampages. Her short scouting trip would supply the generals with the knowledge to launch a full scale attack with the Coastal Northern Kingdom. The snow fell upon her face faster than before as if crying for her. Soon blood would spill upon the ashes of little Cameron. Pointless blood that would never soothe the cries of his blood ties, that of the true Northern Cursed. No, for vengeance, for her friend Prince Cameron of the Northern Curse, she must look to the East, the paradox of everything sane. Turning she mounted her horse. Henrique followed suit and soon the silence was filled with the muffled sound of hoof beats.
It was some time before they reached camp and the moon, just a quarter full, had risen over the northern mountains. The lights of her camp shone brightly and Emma made note to see if the magi had begun to ration the dust reserves. The gates crept open and she was presented with her advisory council, if you could call it that. One of the many trials of the cursed.
"My Lady?" questioned Enrique softly his baritone voice was edged with malice. His eyes trailed over the old advisory crows. Their faked expressions of worry were a never ending plague he thought, but for this particular matter he had to agree with them. As much as he hated to admit it this topic was long overdue.
"It's alright Henrique." Tilting her head she wondered which topic they would bring up this time, "And what brings you here at this hour Lord Stein?"
"I only wish to serve but you have yet to reach a decion on the festive of the Upper East court. As an ally we should have gladly accepted weeks ago. The Upper East Court grows distant upon your silence and your poor council has been left without an answer yet again upon your absence." His tone was one of neglect but Emma new that he was anything but. He was as slippery as a snake and had climbed to Chief Councilman through cunning deceit and lies.
"Unfortunately I have not yet made a decion about the Upper East Court and I must remind you that we are not tied through them with friendship but out of need." Stepping forward Grisald, a man still new to the council, spoke up.
"We may hope that it will not be so for much longer." Henrique eyes narrowed at the mention, but stayed silent.
Emma too was silent but for a curt nod and rode past the council men. Dismounting at her tent she handed her horse off to be taken to pasture. Henrique was behind her and she knew an earful was coming about the Upper East Court.
"You must hurry and decide my lady. Soon the East will take offense. They will use it as a declaration of war as an excuse to expand their territory. Few countries are left in the East they have not swallowed up," his hands were clasped tightly behind his back trying to suppress his anger. "Our border is protected only by the Old River an easy." This is where she cut in, "An easy what?" her voice was high and she concentrated to lower it. "You forget that the Old River is protected by our Goddess Clemmence. She created the earth; she decides who is worthy of the curse."
"Forgive me but the Gods pay little attention to the comings and goings of the land. You must decide to go or not. Remember however," he paused for emphasis, "the consequences of your actions. Now if I may beg your leave," his eyes still glowed with the ferociousness of his brother as he silently left her tent moving along the freshly fallen snow. The elk skin door still swayed from his abruptness as Emma sunk into the floor cushions. She had forgotten to ask him to check in on the magi. She had not wanted to use the dust until they absolutely had too. The dust was an important part of the land and no one truly knew how it was created. She was worried about the stashes of light dust, already a decidedly small amount, of running out before they reached the Northern Mountains. Light dust, a mix of ember and glass dust that shone more brightly than any human fire, would be needed as they wound their ways through the decrepit tunnels plunged in darkness. The magi who worked the dust spent their life perfecting their craft. Most were trained in schools funded by the court, but some were naturally born with the innate understanding of dust and these rare individuals required little training. These people were exceptionally rare however and dust was an expensive commodity. The average person would only see dust maybe once or twice in his or her life leaving little chance for such people to be found. The exceptions were merchants who relied on dust for safety and trade. Her forehead creased. Wasting dust was something not even the crown should do. Her thoughts were interrupted as an airy voice careened from across her tent.
"Henrique temper was not something I anticipated. What did you do to make him so angry?" Her calloused hands carried a tray filled with sweet breads, seasonal fruits, and simpleton meets.
"It's not my fault he has such a temper. He brought up The Upper East problem again."
"Well it is his homeland there is no surprise he wouldn't want a war with them," she said setting down the tray, her ebony hair falling over her shoulders. "He would have to risk fight against his own brother and probably the destruction of his own family, if they are still alive. The Upper East is terribly fond of torture."
"Can we not bring up such dismal topic? I'm the one having to go their after all."
"So you've decided then," she asked pouring a fragrant tea into two unfished terracotta mugs.
"There isn't much of a choice. And besides starting a war is not something King Isenguard would forgive; daughter or not."
"So why haven't you done so already. Angering Henrique and the councilmen is pointless unless you want to be annexed upon your enthronement."
"You forget; I am not just angering them but Isenguard. Father doesn't like the idea of me being able to control our country's future. Besides maybe he'll spend less time at tournaments and more on fortifying the kingdom for the inevitable war of his," She picked up a sesame roll tearing off a piece. "I tell him tomorrow, let his temper cool off first."
Sarah began to unroll the furs for her and Emma's beds, her slight figure casting a shadow across the floor. She was originally from the west. An untamed land with no permanent ruler. It was their where her tribe was attacked and her people taken hostage. She had traveled to the Eastern Capital Claymont where she had worked long hours in a large noble house. She had worked as a seamstress for most of her time their working into the late hours by candle light. As a result her hazel eyes squinted as she tired. Now was such a time and Sarah wondered why go to such lengths over such trivial matters. Politics did not interest her nor was she as quick witted as Henrique or Emma to match them. She had only been given to Emma as a present; but she had found a home here and the work was easier. One day if Emma became Queen she might even be in charge of other slaves. Quietly she slipped into her night shift blowing out the candles. Emma had already slipped into her own quilted mat. As Sarah lay their, her head against the goose stuffed pillow, she couldn't think of anything more that she wanted.
Henrique couldn't sleep. How could Emma risk war over her own personal feelings! He lay on his fur rugs and watched the candle light. He naturally loathed Emma position. The princess herself was far more considerate that he had imagined but she had been born a princess. She had been given everything that he'd lacked; him and his brother. He remembered how everything had been wrenched away. But a brother of an assassin could never openly admit his loneliness not even if he was free. His brother was so different from himself. Erik was strong and quick; he could have been a hallowed night of the realm, but coming from such a lowly position he never would've have made it higher than a Lutenist or Captain. They did share the same amber eyes and shaggy brown hair, but his brother stood a good five inches taller than him and his ability at tracking was far superior. When they had first gone hunting by themselves, they couldn't have been more than twelve, Erik had tracked down the wild turkeys with ease and while Henrique had barely managed to take down the nearest turkey, Erik had gotten the fattest one of the lot. They had also shared a sharp nose for trouble. He smiled at the thought. Memories, encrypted with the echo of laughter, rose above his thoughts. He and his brother were submerged in the murky river by their house. They had swam their often through their years together. Once Henrique had found a hardly torn shirt floating down the stream. He had took it to his mother and she put it away to wear only for special occasions. He had been wearing it the same day his brother first left him.