Part Six-La Princesa del Hada
One morning several weeks later, Alianne skipped Petitioner's Court. Leaving Casimiro to handle affairs, she wiled away the morning in her chambers, a frown clouding her usually open and friendly face. Lightly drumming her fingernails on the marble table next to the chair she daintily sat in, the young queen pondered the events of Midsummer. What was Alan of all people doing in the Copper Isles? Sighing, she turned a shot glass over and over in her hands. That bastard Jonathan is up to something, she though maliciously. If I have to throw the heavens and the earth into chaos to get that throne, I will!
At the same time, Jonathan of Conté paced his rooms angrily, trying to grasp why the Copper Isles were suddenly so aggressive. "Cebrian learned his lesson after the Immortals War," he shouted in a frustrated manner. "And I was looking forward to the day Casimiro inherited, not dreading it!"
"Jonathan," Thayet said softly, "stop working yourself up over it. It's not like they're any real threat to us!"
"That's just it, they are. They've been building an army, personally overseen by both Cebrian and Casimiro…an army to rival Carthak's. Not to mention they have that queen of theirs…"
Thayet drew the Sign on her chest. Jonathan stopped for breath, then continued. "They say she's a powerful sorceress, a witch, that she has been given inhuman powers by the Dark God himself. It is rumored that she reads minds, and that one look into her eyes is enough to frighten someone to death. Some of the Christians swear she has sold her soul to their devil, Satan. I hate to admit it, Thayet, but she scares me. She really does."
"She scares everyone, Jon, there's no need to feel ashamed. Our agents from the Copper Isles won't even talk about her, they're so frightened."
A knock on the door stopped his next thought. Gary poked his head in, a large smile on his face. "'Lo, there, Jon. Hey, Thayet!"
"What d'you want, Gary?"
His cousin's grin faded slightly. "They've returned from the Copper Isles."
Jon's eyes grew wide. "Well?"
"Jon, uhm, I hate to tell you this…but they found something. A certain document there…"
Thayet crossed the room swiftly to stand at her husband's side lest he faint. "What did this document say, Gary?"
"It's…it's an order to an army. They have orders to march on Corus and…and…oh, Jon, it's bad. It's really bad."
"Yeah, well, I don't see how things could possibly get worse." Jonathan plopped into a chair, putting his head in his hands. "Alright, put out the Call to Muster, I guess."
Gary bowed. "Majesty." As he walked back towards where he had left Alanna, he genuinely felt like crying for his cousin. He knew Jon hated to be put in situations like this, risking the lives of thousands of men. War was a sick thing, but as a knight, he had been forced to live through it, several times. Alanna, looking equally dismayed, leaned against one of the garden statues, trying to at least smile.
"How'd he take it?"
"Not well."
She sighed. "It's hard for him…first Carthak, then Scanra, and now this. It's all too much."
"Things were so much simpler when we were younger."
She laughed sadly. "There are those who would say they would have remained simple had I not come along. Perhaps there is some truth to that statement…"
"How's Alan?" Gary asked, tactfully changing the subject. "He seemed a little…off to me."
"Gods, I don't know. He was so quiet. Normally he just talks and talks and talks…you can't shut him up. Goddess knows I've tried. But he barely said hello to me. It was the strangest thing." She frowned slightly. "Last night, one of the priestesses at the temple of the Goddess had a strange dream."
"Eh? They have strange dreams all the time."
"She is a prophetess, a seer, or so they say. She is the one who foresaw the Immortals War the year after Jonathan's coronation."
Gary was slightly puzzled; Alanna was rarely evasive. In fact, she usually jumped straight to the point.
"She had a dream about my daughter," she murmured. "She saw her sitting on the throne of Tortall in a bloodstained purple robe, a crown of thorns upon her head. A tiny dragon sat on her right shoulder; snakes were entwined around her arms and legs. In her hand she held some sort of staff, with a seeing-stone atop it. At her feet were the bodies of the kings of the Eastern and Southern Lands, including Jonathan. In front of her the corpses of innocent people burned, and she laughed. Laughed as tears of blood ran down her face."
She looked at her feet. "Gods, I wish..." A single tear rolled down her cheek.
"Alanna," Gary began, trying to think of something to say. She mustered all the dignity she could manage and looked him straight in the eye.
"I believe you have an army to call up. You'd best do it now, before you get tired." With that, she turned on her heel and walked straight towards the nearest door, leaving Gary with a frown on his face.
"By the Goddess, Casimiro, it's the only way," his wife snapped, her violet eyes furious. "If you're too much of a coward to see that, well, then, to hell with you!"
Casimiro winced as she slammed the door behind her. Lately, it seemed that Alianne's temper was growing worse and worse. Her demands grew greater every passing day; she strongly reminded him of their daughter, Elena, throwing a fit when something didn't go her way. It was so bad that Casimiro was forgetting why exactly they were invading Tortall. If not for a promise made by his forebears to avenge the wrongs committed against them by the stable nation, he would not have even considered the option. It was insanity. Jonathan had always been a strong supporter of his, and he was now stabbing his friend in the back. The thought of all the innocent lives that would be lost made him sick to his stomach.
Alianne's taunts about his cowardice and feminine behavior stung. She used her charismatic personality to gain the support of the citizens rich and poor. Her need for the Tortallan throne had nothing to do with the Copper Isles, but rather her own ambition. The lovely young monarch had been dazzled by the power that came with a crown, and now she wanted even more. Strong willed and vivacious as she was, even Casimiro didn't believe she could truly defeat Jonathan. The Dominion Jewel loomed in his mind; sending his men to Tortall was like sending them to certain death.
But no. Alianne had insisted on sailing for Tortall the next day, though without the entire army. With her, she would take only a single regiment, which Casimiro found extremely odd. Her goal was unknown as she refused to tell anyone save the commanders accompanying her. They had their orders to keep silent, on the threat of death. Casimiro sighed. Things were getting more and more complicated. Far too complicated for him...
A/N: Wow, that chapter was short. Guys, I'm so sorry. This year has been tough for me…I'm trying to boost my GPA. For all y'all non-Americans (since you asked me this when you reviewed), sophomore year is the second year of high school. Most sophomores are generally around 15-16 years of age. Then you have junior year, and senior year. Then, COLLEGE! Or University. Oh yes, you all, I did change my name. I've lost interest in Sailor Moon, and gained interest in Tudor England. Therefore, I decided to honor one of history's most mistreated queens, Anne Boleyn. If you disagree with my opinion of her, don't flame me. Just email, for Christ's sake. I've already started writing Part Seven, and it's long. Probably around twenty or so pages. So, you guys'll have that to look forward to. I'll try and get it out in the next week or so.