Sword of Flames

20 A Queen in Waiting

What do you mean, they decided to come back?” snapped Raven, her voice echoing sharply among the rafters of the great throne room. “Who told them they could do that? How dare they! And what has happened to the Mages?”

Sunfeather flinched—and he was not the only one. All of the Queen’s Council of Advisers—with the exception of Elster, who seemed calm as always, and Aguila, Captain of the Royal Guard, whose impassive face rarely betrayed his emotions—looked decidedly uncomfortable, if not distinctly nervous.

“Your Majesty, I’m sure that you distress yourself needlessly,” said Sunfeather, his suave demeanor belied only by the haste with which he spoke. “As Wingmarshal of the Syntagma, I took it upon myself to question the couriers myself on their return, and—”

“Did you, now?” Queen Raven glared at him. “Then you have taken too much upon yourself. Where are the couriers? Why were they not brought to me at once?”

“My—my Lady, I did not wish to disturb you with such trifles.” For once, Sunfeather was at a loss. Since the departure of the groundling Wizards, the Queen had seemed much more malleable, and he had been growing increasingly confident of his power over her. He’d thought that he had charmed her with his handsome looks and courtier’s manners, but suddenly he had the sinking feeling that he might have miscalculated.

“This is not a trifle!” Raven shouted, hammering her fists down on the table in front of her. “Bring them to me at once!”

“But Majesty, they are sleeping after their long journey—”

“At once, I said!” The Queen locked eyes with Sunfeather—and she was not the first to look away.

“Very well, Majesty. If that is your wish, I will have them sent for,” the Wingmarshal replied with cold dignity.

“No, Sunfeather.” Raven spoke quietly now, but her voice had an edge of steel. “I told you to fetch them. This council will await your return—with the couriers.”

Sunfeather opened his mouth as if to protest, but closed it rapidly when he saw Aguila half rise, his hand upon his sword. Though his expression remained as impassive as ever, the Captain of the Royal Guard’s eyes were sparkling with malicious amusement.

Tight-lipped and fuming with anger, Sunfeather stalked out of the chamber. How dared she humiliate him in front of the entire Council? One day, he thought grimly, I’ll make her pay for this. Why, after that scandal with the Khazalim groundling, she has no right to the throne at all—and unless she mends her manners toward me, I’ll see that she isn’t Queen for long!

In the awkward silence that followed the Wingmarshal’s departure, Raven cudgeled her brains for a way to take control of the meeting—but she had no idea how to begin. Elster gestured for a servant to refill the wine cups. When the youngster had finished her task and gone, Aguila, speaking out of turn, much to Raven’s annoyance, turned to the Acting High Priest. “Did you know about this business?”

Skua shrugged. “Sunfeather did mention it when the couriers returned, but I had to oversee some matters concerning the rebuilding of the temple, so I left him to deal with the situation as he saw fit. Even as acting High Priest”—he glared resentfully at Raven, who still had not confirmed his position—“I have responsibilities. My time is not my own…”

“Really,” Aguila drawled. “Well, at least you fared better than I. The first I heard of it was just before this meeting, when I asked Sunfeather if he knew why Her Majesty had called us together. And what of you, Cygnus? You are the Wingmarshal’s friend. Was he keeping you equally in the dark?”

Raven glared at him. It was typical of him—of all of them—to start talking across her, taking over the meeting and ignoring her as though she wasn’t even there. “That’s not the point,” she cut in, wanting somehow to take back control. “What I want to know is—” She was interrupted by two things: a sharp kick on the ankle from Elster, and the return of Sunfeather, with the four winged couriers behind him.

Raven rose to her feet. “Well?” she demanded sternly.

“What have you to say for yourselves? Why did you disobey my orders and abandon the Magefolk and their companions?”

The culprits fidgeted uncomfortably under her harsh gaze. Raven gritted her teeth. “You may begin,” she told them, “by telling me what happened to the Mages after they left me, until you left them.”

The couriers looked at one another, then one of the winged men stepped forth. “The world is a fearsome, hostile place, Your Majesty, beyond the boundary of our mountains. You would do well to hearken to what we say…”

Raven listened as he recounted what had taken place after the Mages had left Aerillia. As the tale unwound, her heart grew heavier and colder with dread for her former companions, until it seemed as though it was sinking to her very feet. When the winged man’s story ended with the attack in the Xandim Fastness, she could not believe it was over.

“And you just abandoned them?” she demanded. “You don’t even know if they survived? You offered them no help at all, despite the orders you were given?”

The winged couriers looked at the ground and shuffled their feet.

“Speak up,” Aguila barked. “The Queen asked you a question.”

One of the Winged Folk looked up, her expression sullen. “If it please Your Majesty,” she began, “no one mentioned anything about orders when we went with the groundlings. We were given to understand that we were volunteers.”

“That’s right,” another winged man chimed in. “And no one mentioned anything, when we volunteered, about fighting with the great cats, our lifelong foes; or getting caught up in wizardly battles; or risking our lives in some attempt by the Horsefolk to overthrow their leader. With the greatest respect, these matters are not the concern of the Skyfolk. And as for being cursed out by that female demon of a Wizard… Well, Your Majesty, it was just too much.”

“I notice it doesn’t seem to have been too much for your two loyal companions, who elected to remain behind,” Aguila growled. “The blood of the Skyfolk runs thin these days, if that is all the extent of your courage.”

“Sir, that is scarcely just,” the winged woman protested. “We are loyal warriors of the Syntagma. But when we volunteered, Wingmarshal Sunfeather told us that if ever we wanted to come home, it would be permitted—”

“He told you that you could leave the Mages whenever you liked?” Raven demanded furiously. “Those were not my orders.”

“Upon my honor, Majesty, I told them no such thing!” Sunfeather protested loudly. “Full well I knew what your orders were. These cowards must have willfully misunderstood me.”

“Perhaps you didn’t explain it to them clearly enough,” Aguila drawled. “Are you sure you understood Her Majesty’s orders yourself?”

Sunfeather flushed scarlet with rage. “Of course I understood…” His words tailed off, and he shut his mouth hurriedly as he realized how neatly Aguila had trapped him.

“This is all very well,” Cygnus cut in quickly, rescuing Sunfeather from his floundering, “but it brings us no nearer to deciding the punishment of these miscreants.”

“Punishment for the couriers?” Aguila lifted a sardonic brow. “Since the confusion seems to have stemmed from the Wingmarshal’s orders, perhaps he should, in all decency, share their fate.”

Sunfeather’s hand went to his sword. “Are we to act upon the words of a lowborn piece of dung who has risen much too far above his natural state?” he snarled. “Your Majesty, I ask permission to make Aguila pay for these insults with his own base blood—”

Aguila grinned mirthlessly. “Anytime—if you think you’re up to it—”

“Be quiet—both of you!” Raven thundered. “How dare you bicker and trade insults in my throne room like a pair of quarreling fledglings!” Following her outburst, she realized that everyone was looking at her expectantly, and suddenly she found herself blushing and floundering for words.

“Lady?” Skua seized the initiative. “May I make a suggestion? Why not make these couriers pay for their defection by making atonement to Yinze himself? Because so many of our folk have been pressed into duty in the fields, I am desperately short of assistance to rebuild the temple.”

Raven jumped at the opportunity to get out of this interminable wrangle. Her head ached, and she was sick to death of the very sight of her advisers. All she could think about was whether Aurian and her companions were safe. At least Skua had given her the chance to make a decision at last—even though her conscience told her it was not the right one. “Yes, yes,” she said hastily. “I thank the Acting High Priest for his timely words of wisdom. It shall be as he advises. I deliver the miscreants into his charge—and once the new temple has been completed, they can return to the Syntagma. Whether they resume their former ranks or not depends on how they behave in the interim. That is my decree.” Letting her breath out in a sigh of relief, she sank back into her seat.

Aguila’s mouth had tightened into a thin, hard line. He was glaring at her so angrily that she looked away, unable to meet his accusing eyes. Behind the cover of his hand, Sunfeather was smirking. Raven bit her lip. She had got it all wrong in some way, that was plain—but how?

Cygnus was relieved that his friend had escaped the Queen’s censure for his part in the affair. Who’d have thought that Raven would prove so difficult? Thank Yinze that she lacked sufficient experience to see what was going on! And as for that Aguila—he was truly to blame, stirring matters up as he had. The time was fast approaching when the Commander of the Royal Guard would have to be put back in his lowly place.

The sudden realization that the Queen was still speaking brought Cygnus out of his reflections with a jolt.

“Whatever you may think about my association with the Mages, I have made a promise I must keep,” Raven was saying, “so someone else must be sent to see if the Lady Aurian is safe, and to help her if they can. Someone who can be trusted, this time, to send back proper messages, and not to desert his post at the first sign of trouble. Can anyone think who we may fitly send?”

Cygnus’s heart leapt within him. At last—beyond all hope, his chance had come! He had been livid when the Queen had named him as her taster, thus ruining for good any chance he might have of winning the position of High Priest. Since then, he had found his greedy thoughts fixing again and again upon the Harp of Winds. If the Artifact were only his…

“Your Majesty—for the love and loyalty I bear you, I will go.” The words were out of Cygnus’s mouth before he even knew what he was doing, and for an instant he felt the clutch of panic. But his instincts had not played him false.

Raven’s face lit up with her smile—and then she hesitated. He could see her lips tug down at the corners, and knew she was hating herself for that moment of indecision. “Loyal Cygnus—you are such a good friend to me. But are you sure? I can ill spare you…”

Cygnus inclined his white head in a bow. “Majesty, it would be my privilege. And as one who already knows and is friendly with the Mages, who better could you send?”

The Queen of the Winged Folk nodded. “You have my eternal gratitude—and when you return from your mission, you will be rewarded as you deserve.”

I will indeed, thought Cygnus—but not in the way that you imagine, if all goes well…

When the meeting of the council finally ended and the winged men had departed, Elster lagged behind. “Your Majesty,” she said gravely, “may I speak privately with you?” Without waiting for a reply she took hold of Raven’s wrist and practically yanked her from the chamber. Instead of going onto the vast covered porch and flying the quicker and more public route to the Queen’s rooms, as they were wont to do, the physician shepherded her young charge through the labyrinth of little-used corridors within the palace, never once letting go of her arm.

When they were finally alone in the Raven’s sumptuous chambers, and a servant had poured wine for them both and been dismissed, leaving the flask behind at Elster’s behest, Raven turned to her mentor. “All right,” she muttered. “By the expression on your face, I can tell that you have something to say.”

Elster took a long draft of her wine, shook her head, and sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

“What do you mean?” Raven demanded. “What have I done wrong now?”

“You mean you really don’t know?” The physician raised an eyebrow. “Foolish girl—did you have to antagonize Sunfeather like that?”

Wine spilled on the inlaid surface of the ebony table as Raven slammed down her cup in temper. “And just what was I supposed to do?” she exploded. “Sit there meekly and smile at all his veiled insolence? Yinze take it, Elster—how am I supposed to rule if I can’t antagonize Sunfeather, not to mention those other arrogant, smug, manipulative bullies on the Council?”

“Wipe up that wine, Your Majesty,” said Elster mildly, “before it stains the table. It’s not that you must never cross them,” she went on. “But what counts is the way that you do it. Today you were right to put Sunfeather in his place—he was trying to conceal important information from you, and that you must never allow. But you didn’t have to humiliate him at the same time. You only needed to be firm. Once he saw that you wouldn’t let him get away with such tactics, it would have been enough. He wouldn’t have liked it, but he could respect such a move on your part. Sending the Wingmarshal of the Syntagma out on a mere servant’s errand, however, was inexcusable. Believe me, Raven—if you set out to alarm the Council with such high-handed behavior, you will have the shortest reign in the history of the Skyfolk.”

Raven looked at the old physician in silence, her mouth set in a stubborn line. “It’s not fair,” she muttered at last. “The way they act toward me, no one would ever think I was the Queen—and you’re not much better. You treat me like a child…” Her eyes flashed with a spark of anger.

“If you act like one, that’s all you can expect,” Elster responded swiftly. “Now, heed me, Raven. Until today, Sunfeather and the others thought you were nothing more than a spoiled child who could be manipulated. Therin lay your power. When men are off their guard, they usually can be defeated, and not even realize what has happened until it is too late. You would do well to take your example from Aguila, instead of hackling at him all the time—that one has his wits about him.”

The Queen made a small sound of derision. “Aguila? Wits? Why he’s nothing but a boorish, lowborn—”

“And that’s my point.” Elster leaned across the table, interrupting the girl in the midst of her tirade. “You see?” she said quietly. “He has you fooled as well as the rest of them.”

Raven stared at the physician, openmouthed.

“Close your mouth, dear. Queens definitely do not gape.” Elster took a sip of her wine. “Now, instead of sitting there glaring at me, think back to that meeting, after you sent Sunfeather away. With one simple, seemingly casual question, Aguila managed both to establish his own innocence in this affair, and put Skua in a very awkward position—at least that would have been the case had you been paying attention. Had you not interrupted when you did, he might also have discovered for you whether Cygnus was part of this plot to conceal the truth from his Queen.”

“Oh.” Raven blushed crimson. “I didn’t think—”

“But you must think, if you want to rule.” The physician rapped the table with the base of her goblet for emphasis, then reached for the flask to refill it. “The trouble is,” she mused, as she poured, “you need time to learn how to rule—and time is just what you don’t have, with those vultures surrounding you. You need someone strong enough and wise enough—and with sufficient authority—to support you, until you find your feet. Yinze blast it to perdition! Now look what I’ve done!” Suddenly realizing that she had flooded her cup, she put the flask down with another muttered oath.

“You should wipe that up,” Raven told her with a pert grin, “before it stains the table.”

Elster chuckled. “You see—you can be sharp enough when you want to—that’s plain by the way you always keep acting like a dizzy girl so you can put Skua off from assuming the position of High Priest officially.” Fishing a very businesslike kerchief from a pocket in her robe, she began to mop up the spilled wine. “While he’s still only Acting High Priest, you have him nicely in your power.”

“Oh, Aguila told me to do that.”

The physician glanced up sharply. “Did he, indeed?” She frowned thoughtfully. “Anyway, girl, stop trying to put me off. Before I was interrupted”—she looked seriously at Raven—“I was saying that you can’t keep on alone like this. Apart from anything else, you’ll need an heir, you know. You must stop prevaricating, and take a consort.”

“What?” Raven shrieked. “How could you, Elster? How could you even suggest such a thing after what happened with Harihn…” Her voice tailed off in distress.

Elster leaned across the table and took hold of the young Queen’s hand. “You must put that dreadful business behind you, Raven,” she said firmly. “You are still young—”

“How can I take a consort now, you old fool? Winged Folk mate for life! I’m ruined…”

“Utter nonsense!” Elster retorted bracingly. “In that respect, at least, Blacktalon was right. Groundlings cannot be said to count… Or do you want to ruin your life and lose your kingdom over one stupid mistake?”

Tears overflowed Raven’s eyes and ran down her face. “But I could never love again,” she whispered tragically. The physician sighed, and raised her eyes heavenward. “You youngsters! Who said anything about love? Find someone you can like, respect, and work with—that’s all you need. Queens have no business even thinking about love.”

“Fine words, coming from someone who never took a mate at all,” Raven sneered. “So who have you decided I should choose?” she challenged bitterly. “I presume you had someone in mind before you even started this conversation. Someone else, no doubt, who will manipulate me, with you the chief puppet master of them all.”

“If you have any sense at all, you’ll choose Aguila.”

Elster’s words cut like a sword stroke through the young Queen’s ranting. Raven stared at her, her eyes wide with dismay, too thunderstruck even to protest.

“Think.” The physician pressed her advantage. “You like him—you’ve admitted as much to me on several occasions. He’s very fond of you, and what’s more, he’s loyal and commands the loyalty of the Royal Guard in turn. He’s intelligent—and he won’t take any nonsense from those other backstabbers who advise you—especially not once he outranks them as Royal Consort.”

Raven burst out laughing. “Elster, you can’t be serious.

This is a jest—go on, admit it. Why, he’s nothing but a lowborn commoner. And he’s old”

The physician raised an eyebrow. “Aguila? Old? I’m old, you little idiot! He may be a few years older than you, my girl—but that doesn’t make him ancient! And as for his birth—well, anyone who could rise from his beginnings to become Captain of the Royal Guard, is truly a man to be reckoned with! You couldn’t have anyone better on your side—and what’s more, you could always trust him to be on your side.”

She looked at the young Queen gravely. “Listen, Raven. While we are speaking of age, I must remind you that I won’t always be here to help and advise you. Being Queen is the loneliest business in the world, child—and while I’m still around to plague you, I want to make certain you’ll have someone to lean on when I’m gone.” Seeing Raven’s stricken face, she smiled to lighten the moment. “Besides,” she added mischievously, “I have no fledglings of my own. How will I be remembered if you don’t have a little Princess to name after me?”

“Oh, Elster!” With a sob, Raven flung her arms around the old physician. “You’re not going to die!”

“Not for a good while yet, I hope—unless your aim gets better with those winecups you fling at me in temper, when I tell you things you don’t want to hear.” Elster chuckled. “No, but seriously, child—do as I advise you. Take Aguila as your consort. It will be the best decision that you’ll ever make. I promise you, you won’t regret it.”

“But Elster—” Raven bit her lip. “After that business with Harihn… what if Aguila doesn’t want to marry me?”

The physician laughed-out loud. “Not want to marry you? My dear child, of course he’ll want to! Why, any one of that nest of vipers you call your advisers would cut off his wings tomorrow to become your consort—but out of the lot of them, Aguila is the only one who loves you.”

When Elster finally departed, she left Raven with a good deal to think about. The winged girl went to the window and stood, deep in contemplation, staring blindly out at the city that she ruled. Should she do as the physician advised? After Harihn’s betrayal, she had abandoned the idea of ever taking a consort. She’d had far too much to occupy her mind in these first, difficult days of settling into her rule to even consider the matter of an heir. But Elster, as usual, had spoken wisely. Raven bit her lip, struggling with her feelings. That was all very well, but after Harihn, could she bear to take another man to her side—and to her bed? The words of Flamewing, her mother, spoken in anger so long ago, came back to her: “You were brought up to recognize that you have duties to your people and to me throne, one of them being that you must marry to advantage.”

The ruler of the Winged Folk sighed. Elster had also told her that Queens had no business thinking about love. Well, so be it. They were right—both of them—and it was time she grew up and faced the facts. It could have been much worse, Raven reminded herself. Not long ago, she had been faced with the unthinkable prospect of having the cruel High Priest Blacktalon forced upon her as her consort. Then, she had had no choice, but now it was different. And Aguila had been kind to her, cheering the lonely little Queen almost as much as Elster had in these last, difficult days… Elster had even said that he loved her, which had come as a shock—but she wasn’t ready to think about that yet. He was certainly the only one who didn’t seem to want to use her, though.

Raven realized that she had made her decision. She would do it. Suddenly, she thought about the reactions of Sunfeather and Skua when they heard the news, and a malicious grin spread itself across her face. Those two were going to be so sick… She chuckled to herself, feeling more cheerful than she had in days. Elster, as usual, had been right.