Please forgive small typos -- typing mistakes, misue of words, etc. I want to get this posted before lateness. Youth-group on Monday, Volleyball on Tuesday, three and a half hours of band tonight -- all this on getting up at 5:30 and going to bed near midnight. Yes, I want you to be proud of me! I do not handle sleep loss well! I owe so much in sleep debt. School makes me angry. I wish I could quit and come back later on in life when learning will be my priority again!
Needless to say, sorry for the delay!
A Lady in the Golden Wood
Mt. Olympus was not a happy place.
Zeus was busy destroying anything and everything in sight, lightening bolt after lightening bolt zapping trees, structures, rocks, streams, gods, goddesses, and a few demigods. Hera was busy trying to placate him, but he made it difficult by destroying her form every time she attempted to come near him. Aphrodite was crying under a rock overhanging, her shining black tresses hanging over tearstained-blue eyes; Ares was furiously creating an army of stone men that would be ready to march by sunrise, muttering curses and threats under his breath; Hephaestus was busily working to arm the stone warriors, his eyes continually seeking after his mother's safety; Hermes was occupied with hundreds of messages from all the seers, priests, and oracles in Greece who wanted to know what was happening to displease the gods; and Athena was examining her actions, trying to decide what she could have done differently that would have resulted in success.
Of all the major gods, there were very few who still exhibited any sort of calm at all. In fact, there were two.
Apollo and Artemis sat together behind the throne of Zeus. For some reason, he never bothered to look there when he was searching for something to destroy. The noise the thunder-god was making was loud enough to cover the sound of ten-thousand men marching on stone streets, so they conversed without fear of being overheard.
"They just slipped right through," Artemis was telling her brother. "I don't know how a company of that size made it even ten miles from the Mount without being spied; but these mortals did."
"All mortals?" Apollo asked. His golden curls shone in the faint light emanating from his skin.
"Yes," Artemis said firmly.
"Well, if they wanted to go North, that's their business," Apollo said lightly. A bolt of energy sliced into the ground a few feet behind the throne, throwing up sprays of dirt and incinerated rock. "Why the fuss?" Apollo continued, hardly noticing.
"Because at least two of them were Mages," Artemis explained. "And by the way Hera looked at them, they must have been Justina's own."
"Oh," Apollo said. "That's what the fuss is about."
"You know Zeus proclaimed eternal riches to the first who brought him a mage," Artemis sighed. "They're all furious."
"Well, why not close the door?" Apollo asked.
"They didn't use the main door," Artemis laughed. "They'd made a new one, a few miles past it. By the time Ares and I got there, they'd all gone through. Must have been nearly four hundred soldiers."
"My, my," Apollo sighed. "I should have been here."
"Yes," Artemis laughed. "Athena is simply furious with herself. She ordered them to stop, and not one of them listened!" Artemis laughed. "But I would have loved to meet them," she said, her voice suddenly serious. "Just to speak with them."
"Justina protects her own too well," Apollo said, almost sighing. "Imagine, though, if I had a child by one. Half god, half mage…"
"Oh, brother," Artemis was laughing again. "Set your eyes on more realistic goals, please." A lightening bolt slapped the throne over their heads, sending the chair flying backwards. Both gods leaped up as Zeus roared again. Time for a new hiding place.
Meanwhile…
"Is the door closed?" Kris whispered. Flame listened for a moment more, her ear pressed against…empty air.
"Yes," she finally said. "Yes, it's shut."
"Thank the gods," Kris mumbled sincerely under her breath. "And Patroclus?"
"A little scorched," Achilles said, appearing at her elbow. "I'm more worried about the shock, though."
"After all, it's not often one survives a lightening bolt thrown by Zeus," Eudorus said, his voice displaying all the sarcasm he felt. Not often must have meant never.
"Well, it's not often they've got a shield set up over them, is it?" Flame snapped irritably. Tristan slid his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him, raising his eyebrows over her head at Kristin.
"Is this the North, then?" Achilles asked, looking at Kris like he'd like to do to her what Tristan was doing to Flame.
"I don't know where else we'd be," she said tartly. Achilles looked around again, eyes slightly narrowed.
"It's very…" Eudorus trailed off, as if he lacked words to say, then turned back to where Achilles' warriors stood, waiting for his command.
"Gold," Achilles finished for him.
Indeed, it was very, very gold. The noon-day sun shone overhead, casting rays of light down, down, down into the yellow-leaved trees below. The leaves, slightly transparent, cast golden shadows onto the brown moss underfoot. The tall, thin trees were evenly spaced, giving plenty of standing room. But none-the-less, a person couldn't help but feel like he was being drowned in an amber-colored liquid that was very, very light.
"This is the royal grove," Kristin found herself explaining. "These trees were planted around the fortress hundreds of years ago by a mage-planter named Corina. They've never lost these leaves."
"Hmmm," Achilles said. Kristin hear the doubt in his voice. "If this if the royal grove, then royalty must be near."
"Right beside you, dim-wad," Kris muttered under her breath.
"Let's go," Tristan said quickly. Flame was still leaning against him, her face pressed against his chest. Flame never handled this sort of thing well. She enjoyed fighting one on one, not in a desperate fight and not in retreat mode. "Conrad and Maude will definitely be waiting."
"Oh well," Kris said. "Let's not let that thought dampen our high spirits." She rolled her eyes; without glancing back at Tristan, she stepped forward. Achilles watched her go for a moment, his eyes slightly unfocused.
"She'd be a horror to fight under," he said aloud.
"She is," Tristan snorted. "A loner in battle, though. Doesn't like having anyone near her. Makes it difficult to protect her when she willfully puts herself in danger, but I should be happy she's so good at protecting herself."
"Hmmm," Achilles said. Kris sucked in clean, cold, Northern air, and turned to look over her shoulder.
"Are we going?" she bellowed. Tristan winched and nodded.
"Just follow her," he told Achilles as he pulled Flame into a walk.
"Follow," Achilles barked over his shoulder in the direction of his dedicated warriors. "Can Patroclus walk yet?"
"Of course I can," Patroclus said, offended. He looked none the worse for wear, but there was a certain dazed look in his eye that didn't go away when he blinked. He stepped to Achilles' side. "I am not the weakling you think I am," he assured Achilles. "And I will prove it to you soon enough."
"Just walk for now," Achilles sighed. With that, he stepped after Kristin, moving till he was equal to her. She glanced over at him, unable to hide the worry she knew was apparent in her gaze.
"You have nothing to fear," Achilles murmured. "They'll love me." Kris stared at him for a moment. The smile slipped out when he winked.
Achilles was studying her face again, and Kris wondered what he saw. She was positive that there was a bluish-purple scratch that slashed across her forehead -- Zeus' work. Her black hair was pulled half-back in a simple way to keep it out of her eyes, but she hadn't been able to secure all the short pieces. They fell in her face, swung in her mouth, and absolutely refused to stay tucked behind her ears. With any luck, she'd choke on them before they got to the fortress.
"The North suits you," Achilles said quietly. She glanced at him again, forgot to look where she planted her feet, and ended up grasping a nearby tree to keep from falling. "It brings out the colors in your face," Achilles laughed.
And the family trait of clumsiness.
They walked on in silence. Glimpses of stone began to show themselves between the trees up ahead, and Kris felt her heart-rate speed up. It had been so long since she'd been home. Now all she could think about was the reception she'd receive.
"I wouldn't worry if I were you," Achilles said calmly. Irritated, Kris sped up her pace.
"Who said I was worried?" she asked breezily, doing her absolute best to sound just peachy, thank-you.
"I read it in your movement," Achilles said. "After years on the battle-field, I'm able to read movements very well."
"I don't doubt it," Kris said, pushing a gold-lead covered branch to the side. And there it was. Straight ahead. Light gray stone walls that rose high into the pale-blue sky. Nothing could be seen over them. The walls touched the ground straight in front of them, but on every other side, they ended on the stone cliffs that surrounded most of the stronghold.
An armed guard waited at the base of the walls in front of them. Nearly a hundred strong, most carried bows that were notched and aimed towards the golden wood. Kris stepped out into the cleared ground slowly, both hands raised. Achilles came behind her, both his hands resting on his sword handle.
"Approach," a tall man on a dark roan horse called out. "No one else leave the wood." Kris swallowed hard, glanced sideways at Achilles, and shrugged.
"You probably want to stay put," she said softly. He ignored her warning and walked beside her. Though ten times more formidable looking than she, the armed guard ignored him and kept their weapons trained on Kristin.
"Kristin, King's Daughter," the proclaimed said.
"Where is my brother?" Kristin asked, standing up straight.
"He sends this message," the man said. "You are under house arrest till further notice, in which time he will see fit if it is proper to return your full freedom. Ever."
"And he couldn't deliver this himself?" Kris snarled.
"He does not trust you anytime soon and says that you are to remain locked up till he knows for certain that you will never do anything so stupid again," the proclaimer finished.
"Where is the dolt?" Kris snapped, stepping forward. "Lend me your horse, Simon."
"Milady, I can't," the man said painfully. "Orders from the king are orders from the king."
"Well, then I'll get the council to withdraw them," she said.
"Until then, Conrad declares you must be locked inside your rooms," Simon said firmly.
"Ridiculous!" Kristin said.
"Must we take you forcefully?" Simon asked.
"Of course not!" Kris snapped, eyeing the hobbled old horse stationed beside Simon. "But this is absolutely ridiculous!"
"I think it rather a good idea," Tristan said. He and Flame stood a few feet back, having ignored the order to stay in the wood. "After all, you can't engage in too much stupidity if you're locked in your room."
"I can't engage in anything if I'm locked in my room!" Kris shouted.
"Orders are orders," Simon stated. "Do we have to restrain you?"
"No!" she shouted. Her voice boomed against the rock walls. "Ridiculous," she snapped again as she stepped forward to mount the hobbled horse whose reins were held by Simon.
"I can't decide if this is funny or appalling," Achilles mused.
"It's funny," Tristan said.
"Shut up," Kris hissed as her hands were chained to the pommel of the saddle. "This is not funny."
"Then what is it?" Flame asked, giggling.
"Absolutely killer frustrating!" Kris yelled as Simon pulled the lead-rope of her horse after him. Standing in her stirrups, she looked back in time to see the three of them laughing.
Damn it, Conrad.
"Not the homecoming you expected?"
It was Flame, but Kris was too upset with her to reply. Sitting in a window seat, glaring down at the horse fields below with her sight almost hazy with anger, was not the homecoming she'd expected, but Flame was the last person she'd admit that to. Refusing to turn her head, Kris entirely ignored her.
"I've brought you a visitor," Flame continued. It's called a cold shoulder. Get with it, Flame. "I'm leaving now." The solid wood door swung shut with a soft click; the black glow of the door-sealant someone had stuck on there lit up the room again. Footsteps approached the window seat.
Let it be Maude, let it be Maude-
Achilles sat down across from her. She considered him for a moment.
I guess he's okay.
"I need to know what to do until you're released," Achilles stated.
"Hmmm?" Kris studied his face, looking for any trace of teasing. If there had been any…
"I have no idea what I'm here for," Achilles shrugged, smiling. "I'm simply at your command, dearest."
Not right now. Kris groaned. "You know perfectly well what you came for."
"Maybe I do," Achilles said. "But I'd rather not start negotiations, or whatever it is that needs to be done, without you there." He leaned back against the wall. "After all, you are the only Northerner I trust."
"Well, I'm stuck," she snapped. Having to ignore Achilles' insinuations did not improve her mood. "Unless Conrad gets over himself anytime soon, I'll be stuck in here."
"It won't be long," Achilles assured her. "I've been putting on a wonderfully imbecilic front that has them all wondering if I'm capable of human speech. They'll need you to translate for me in no time." Kris smiled a little.
"That I'd like to see," she said.
"I have a few questions," he said.
"Fire away." Kristin yawned and leaned her head against the stone windowsill.
"You once led the armies of the North, correct?"
"I led them very badly, but I did lead." Achilles pulled his legs up onto the seat and sat cross-legged across from her.
"But you were very young, then, weren't you?" he asked. "Not more than thirteen."
"Fourteen," she corrected.
"How does a fourteen year old lead an army in battle?" Achilles asked, frowning.
"She does her best," Kris said with a shrug. "But I am not a good leader. Period. No matter what age."
"How did advisors allow it? After all, you were just a child." Achilles' eyebrows narrowed.
"I was no longer a child," Kris said softly. "Childhood is very much an element of the mind. A six-year old that has seen as much as an old woman can be of a very close mental age. I saw many things, and I was a part of many things. At the age of fourteen, I was as capable of leading as I ever would be."
Achilles was silent for a moment. Kristin returned her gaze to the window.
"Why would you brother not agree to rule?"
"He is very self-conscious of his blindness," Kris stated. "He did not want the North to have an unstable ruler."
"Is he unstable?"
"He's far more stable than I am," Kris said with a laugh. "I hope to convince him to become King when this war is over. I'd be a worse queen than I am a commander."
"I agree," Achilles said. "Queen-ship would not suit you."
"Thanks for your support," Kris laughed.
"You treasure your freedom far too much," Achilles added. "Queens usually end up giving far more than they take."
"Good queens," Kris corrected.
"Good queens," Achilles agreed.
They were silent again. After a while, Kris glanced at Achilles to see him watching the door uneasily. I guess the glow would take a lot to get used to.
"Don't worry about the door," she said. "In fact, it would be good for you to get used to it. You'll see this sort of thing all over the place in the North."
"It's not really the door I'm worried about," he said. "It's the idea that one such as you can't break free of the door. See," he said, turning to her again, "we have restraints. We have guards, chains, ropes, doors. But they are physically possible to break through. There's nothing someone like me or my men can do against this magic."
"But you're a lucky one," Kris said. "Because there's nothing the magic can do to you either." She leaned forward. "There's something about you and Tristan," she said. "Magic doesn't effect you. Mages like me, we can put up shields. It's so basic that we do it automatically. But you and Tristan don't need shields." She sat back, a triumphant grin on her face. "Coal hates Tristan. She can never touch him. Her fire has no effect."
"Interesting," Achilles mused.
"I'm guessing it's your mother's blood in you," Kris said. "It would make sense."
"Indeed," he said. Kris realized he wasn't exactly paying attention to what she said, so she stopped speaking until he decided to listen again.
A long silence ensued. After tiring of the view out the window, Kris turned her gaze to the rest of the room. It had been her room since she was a young child -- windows with wide, padded sills that faced the fields; thick carpets covering the cold stone floor; a large desk on one wall; a bed built in a cranny in another wall with curtains that hung down to block it; a large stuffed chair and small couch near the windows; and a corner filled with book-cases, wooden trunks, and piles of papers that were covered in a thin, spindly script. It felt like it had been years since she'd been there, while in reality, she'd been no more than five months from home.
It looked exactly like she'd left it; Kristin was the one who'd changed.
"Do the people like Tristan?" Achilles asked, breaking her out of her daydreaming.
"Sure," she said absentmindedly, looking up at the smooth stone of the ceiling.
"Do they follow him because they must, or because they want to?" he persisted.
"Most of the men have given him their loyalty," she said, looking at him. "They follow him with trust."
"Then why am I here?" Achilles asked roughly. "So far, I could have been of more use in the South." Of more use, or more appreciated?
"I don't know what's going on," she said. "I've been away from home for so long that I don't know anything that's been happening." Before she was done speaking, the door to her room swung open. In stepped a white-eyed Conrad, silent Nancy, wrinkly-faced Maude, grumpy Flame, and some-what sullen Tristan.
"Let's fix that, then," Conrad said. His voice was empty of emotion. He faced Kristin exactly, even without sight. Slowly, she stood and faced him, her jaw clenched.
Do not get angry now, do not get angry now. Do. Not. Get. Angry. Now.
Ho hum. Is it sleep-time yet?
I love Mute Math! Amazing musicians.