- Chapter 28: My Own Eulogy -
"After that," Barro recounted, "...we tied them all up, starting with Jepper. Despite that, he managed to escape before we could bring them all back here. Rimeon swears he only took his eyes off of him for a few seconds. I guess he's an elusive one."
Eli nodded. "Have you questioned the others yet?"
"Yes. They're just grunts, though. They don't seem to know much. They just repeated what Jepper said about being under orders from General Hindel."
They were all gathered together in the royal bedchambers, ostensibly to visit the sick king: Barro, Gyan, and the four remaining members of the Cypress royal family, minus young Dorian.
"They must be lying, to try to trick us into going to war with Iom," Judith put in. "Even if this Hindel has somehow managed to rise to power so quickly, ambassador Edwin has told me that most of the court, including the king and queen, want nothing more to do with their god's lust for conquest. Iom has been allies with Cypress for over a decade. Why would any Iomite want to throw that away in service to a god who is going to be sealed away for years if not centuries to come? Besides, Hindel is the son of two of Cypress's greatest heroes. It just doesn't make sense."
"Unfortunately, I think it does," Gyan said glumly. "Nick told me that some prophet foretold that Deanna and Natasha's eldest son would become a warlord and conquer Cypress in the name of the god Iom. He didn't really believe the prophecy, and I still don't understand how Iom could have arranged all this, but it kind of looks like that's what's happening now, doesn't it?"
"It does, but things aren't always what they look like," Barro said. "Just because a theory was foretold doesn't mean it makes sense. Historically speaking, Iom just lost a war with Cypress a short time ago. Why would he try it again, unless he had some new asset on his side?"
"Maybe he does." Eli folded his hands in thought. "Let's assume this Hindel went from a nobody to leader to Iom's army in just a few weeks, as Jepper said. It wouldn't make sense for him to lie about that part. Wouldn't such a remarkable rise to power indicate that Hindel has something special about him?"
"Not really," Judith said. "His parents have a lot of clout with the Iom royal family."
"Still..." Eli was hesitating now. He wanted to be decisive, to speak like a true king, but he was afraid of making the wrong decision while his parents' lives were on the line. "...isn't it possible that..."
"Yeah... There is one possibility, now that I think of it," Gyan filled in. "A friend of ours from Emild, Lady May, was possessed by Iom for a while. She was cured a while before Hindel was born, if I remember right... I think Deanna and Natasha only had their daughter when they cured May. But they were spending a lot of time with May then. What if she did something to Hindel before he was born? Gave him some of her power, or something?"
"That's still speculation," Barro sighed. "We can't jump to war with Iom every time someone points a finger in their direction."
"But what's the alternative?" Eli said. "The only suggestion you've had, Barro, is that my parents were abducted by strangers from some distant country we've never encountered before. Now that is speculation." He realized he was sniping at Barro, but he couldn't help it.
"It's speculation that doesn't contradict what we already know. Guardiana's existence was equally speculative just a few decades ago."
"Very well. We're getting nowhere here. There's a simple way to settle this: You, Gyan, and your friends must accompany Judith on her diplomatic visit to Iom. If they make a grab for her the way they have for you and my parents, then you'll freely admit that Iom is behind all this, won't you?"
"Offering Judith as bait, Eli?" Agnes said, eyebrow raised. "Some brother."
"I was already going to Iom, Agnes," Judith pointed out. "Besides, we'll never defeat whoever it is that's attacking Cypress if we don't take a few calculated risks."
"We'll also never defeat them if we keep him in charge." She jerked her head at Eli.
"Well, he is in charge," Barro said pointedly. "And I agree with his plan. I don't think we should assume Iom is really behind this, but I certainly don't think we should send Judith to Iom unescorted under these circumstances, either. And you're having the ports checked, right?"
"That's already taken care of." He didn't like Barro's tone – as if he was the one giving those orders. Agnes was grating on him, too. He'd like to have said her barbs were all in play, but he knew better. "And you have no problem with leading Judith's escort?"
"Of course not. We already have our excuse laid out, remember? Going along on a diplomatic mission makes a perfectly good little adventure for five young people."
"So why is it that Judith is going to Iom in father's stead, and not the man who's supposed to be taking father's place?" Agnes questioned. "Oh, right. Because Eli doesn't believe in putting his own neck on the line."
"Very well, Agnes, that's enough," Eli snapped. "We do the enemy's work for them if we argue among ourselves. We've all got our tasks to do, so let's get started on them."
As the clandestine meeting broke up, however, Eli was not headed off to start on any task. Right now, he wanted to speak to Alisa more than anything. His duties as acting king could wait an hour.
He found the queen in her room, alone, seated in a chair and staring in the direction of a blank spot on the wall. She was half-slumped, her face projecting weary resignation.
"What is it, Ruce?"
He bowed his head to her. "I just wanted to tell you that you did the right thing." Her one visible eyebrow raised in idle query. "Rescinding your earlier announcement and naming Lady Ellen your heir, I mean."
Her eye turned away to stare out the window. "After over a week of public protest, I was beginning to feel I didn't have a choice. I never thought my people held such prejudice against dwarves."
"You've missed the point, Your Majesty. Didn't you notice that some of the protesters were dwarves themselves? The people just want to see your bloodline continue." She said nothing to that. "Did Lady Ellen take it with good grace when you congratulated her? I know she can be a sore winner."
"Who said I congratulated her?"
Ruce's mouth twitched. "You should. It's a big deal for her."
"I don't see being born with a diluted strain of royal blood to be an accomplishment. I take pride in my deeds as queen, not my inheriting the role. And Ellen's behavior in this matter is certainly not deserving of congratulations."
He shrugged. "You still should congratulate her, if only for the sake of good manners, and staying on good terms with your family." Anri said nothing. "You know, Your Majesty, the inexperienced are often willing to learn even from people who have stood in their way in the past. This is a good time for you to present yourself as a mentor to Lady Ellen. Instead of choosing a great ruler to be your heir, you can teach your heir to be a great ruler."
Ruce finished this little speech with an encouraging smile. The queen continued to stare blankly out the window. "Your Majesty, are you alright?"
A soft, weary breath escaped her mouth. "It's too late, Ruce. I wanted to finish my reign with putting Guardiana in capable hands, but my end is near. My dizzy spells have been getting worse, and I've been feeling tired all day, not just in the morning. I want to keep on fighting, but it's no use. I will die soon. Maybe even today."
There was a moment of silence.
"I'll get the healer, Your Majesty," Ruce said, and left the room.
Alone again, Anri smiled to herself. There had been a subtle hint of panic in Ruce's parting words. For all his calm, sensible practicality, Ruce couldn't stand the thought of her dying while he was still alive. What could be a more sincere tribute to her reign as queen? She hadn't completely failed in her rule of Guardiana after all.
Really, she had to acknowledge now, she had been well-loved throughout her reign. As distant as she had been in her final years, Anri suspected that she would be remembered not just as the ice queen, but as a woman who had given all she had for her people. She would have liked to have been remembered as a woman of warmth and compassion as well, but it was enough to be satisfied with and more than she deserved.
She felt a fool. Right up to the end, a part of her had clung to the hope that any day, he would return, come striding through her door, sweep her up in his arms, and kiss her the same way he had all those years ago. All this time she had felt that being Anri meant freedom and being "Your Majesty" meant giving everything she had to people who would give nothing in return, but now she truly realized that it was the other way around. She should have devoted herself more fully to her people. She should have married and conceived an heir, not to turn her back on him – she could never do that – but to do her duty to a people who loved her.
Still, all in all, it had been a good life. She was not ashamed of herself.
Dark spots did a slow dance in front of her eyes, and she let her eyelids droop. Perhaps, if there was an afterlife, she would soon be in her beloved's arms once more.
When the healer knocked at the door, giving him permission to enter felt like such a tiresome, pointless chore. She did it because she didn't want to end her life by disappointing people.
The healer examined her briefly and then handed her a cup of brewed herbs, telling her to drink. She obediently took the cup, but she was confident it would make no difference. Death was coming for her, and she was not afraid.
She didn't even bear a grudge against Ellen. She wished that she could have put Guardiana in the hands of someone better, but Ellen had won and Anri had lost. She could face that.
As she raised the cup to her lips, she pondered how Queen Narsha, King Nicholas, King Kay, and King Amelo would feel when they heard of her demise. They had all been worthy, friendly allies.
"Your Majesty, no! Don't drink that!"
Anri turned to the sound of the familiar voice, the cup lowering for the moment. Lady May came running into the room, and the healer seized Anri by her throat and squeezed. Unable to get air, her hands instinctively tried to pry the hand from her throat, while the healer's other hand brought a vial of red liquid to her gaping mouth.
"Spark!" May cried, reaching out a hand to direct the spell which staggered the healer, even as she herself was sent sprawling to the floor by a dagger thrown into her leg.
Anri did not waste time thinking of May's predicament. She broke away from the healer and cast a Freeze spell in the direction the dagger had been thrown from. She didn't wait to see if her spell had hit home, but snatched up her staff and dove to a crouch next to her bed. Adrenaline was pounding through her veins, dispelling the morbid tiredness and almost making up for the weakness of old age.
Even so, the sight before her sorely wounded her confidence. No less than a half dozen enemies were closing in on her, armed with axes, daggers, and swords. May was unable to stand, thanks to the dagger in her leg, but still propped herself up on one arm to try casting another spell in Anri's defense. Someone kicked her in the head, knocking her utterly senseless. There had been more than enough ruckus to raise the attention of nearby guards, but none had come yet, which meant that for whatever reason, none would come.
Anri was alone.
Despite the expansive size of the royal bedroom, her attackers were clustered together enough that a level 3 Freeze spell would hit them hard. Without yielding the limited cover of her bed, she cast one, hitting four of them.
But though hurt by her magic, Anri's attackers were not unprepared for it. They washed over her, the one in the lead swinging his axe through her robes and flesh. A parry with her staff kept it from being lethal, but her strength could not overcome that of her young assailant.
Spells would do her no good against fresh, unscathed warriors with no one to shield her; Max had taught her that. What was needed here was force and evasiveness. She slammed her staff against the axe-wielder's head. As he staggered, getting in the way of his comrades, she rolled over on top of the bed, her old muscles protesting at the sudden maneuvers. She gestured to cast a Blaze spell, but one of them was too quick for her, snatching the end of the bedsheet and throwing it at her; if she cast the spell now, she'd end up with a flaming sheet falling over her. She took advantage of the obstructed view by slipping over the edge of the bed, then casting a Freeze spell under the bed to strike at their feet, sticking them to the floor.
But most of her attackers were not so slow, and no sooner had she cast the spell than a hand gripped her throat, another her arm. She was jerked to her feet and held in a grip she couldn't break, while a dark-haired woman with blue eyes and a long sword stepped forward to end her life.
Suddenly Anri saw an object flying towards her. Her brain registered with bewildered astonishment that the object was her dresser a split second before it collided with the sword-wielding woman. In some bizarre miracle, the impact knocked her forwards but stopped just short of slamming into Anri.
As the woman slumped, unconscious, and the man gaped in momentary astonishment, Anri slipped out of his grip and hit him with a Spark spell. Even as she focused on the remaining three attackers, something was insistently tapping on the shoulder of her consciousness: a sort of grinding purr that was otherworldly yet somehow familiar.
There was no sense in further conserving magical energy. If she didn't stop them now, her luck would run out and she would be dead. This was her last chance. "Spark!" she cried, pouring virtually everything she had left into the level 3 spell.
Searing bolts of electricity lit up the dark room in blinding flashes, striking her enemies like unleashed snakes.
They all fell... all but one. He lurched forward, staggered by the spell, but willing and determined to put an end to the queen of Guardiana.
Then a figure stepped out of the shadows and struck the would-be assassin, knocking him senseless to the floor.
The figure turned to face Anri, making that so-familiar grinding purr with the movement. "You may rest easy now, Queen Anri. All your enemies have been neutralized."
At the sound of that voice, Anri's heart almost stopped. "Oh dear gods," she breathed. "Adam?"
