The Born Queen

Epilogue

THE DAY the last Skasloi stronghold fell began the age known as Eberon Vhasris Slanon in the language of the elder Cavarum. When the language itself was forgotten by all but a few cloistered scholars in the Church, the name for the age persisted in the tongues of men as Everon, just as Slanon remained attached to the place of victory in the Lierish form Eslen.

Everon was an age of human beings in all their glories and failings. The children of the Rebellion multiplied and covered the land with their kingdoms.

In the year 2223 E, the age of Everon came to an abrupt and terrible end.

It may be that I am the last to remember it.

I was dying when the Briar King came. When the battle was done, he lifted me in his hand of living vines and opened those eyes of his upon me.

I knew my friend, and he knew me, and I wept at what he had given up, but more at what he had gained. He took me away, and in his long, slow way he mended me. He meant well.

Of all that died and lived that night, only I was left with the sight, and it was a faint reflection of what I once had. Like Aspar’s Grim, my one eye can look beyond the horizons of days and leagues—but never again at my command.

The hour of treasured shadows had just struck in Vitellio, and in the little town of Avella, that meant everyone from the carpenter to a shopkeeper—or anyone who had sense—had found shade and a light snack. This was true even now, when the days were shorter and the shadows longer. Fewer duels were fought over the prime spots, and thus it was that this deep in the month Utavamenza, Alo was able to rest in the shade of the fountain of the Lady Fiussa without much fear of molestation, even given the current climate in town and the well-known fact that his skills with the sword were far from perfect.

He enjoyed the wine as best he could, knowing it would be his last for a while. He could wish for some bread to go with it, but he might as well ask Fiussa to weep sapphires.

He dozed on and off in the weakening autumn sun. A horse clopped across the stones of the piato; a girl sang from her window. He dreamed of better days.

He opened his eyes and found Lady Fiussa gazing down at him. She was young, fair, very pretty. Only the lady ought to be naked, and this woman was dressed, oddly enough, as a man, in breeches and doublet, complete with riding hat.

“Lady,” he said, scrambling to his feet.

“Hush,” the girl said. “Are you the one they call Alo?”

“I am,” he said. “I am very much he.”

“That’s good,” she said. “I have something for you from an old friend.”

She had a charming accent, Alo noticed.

“What is it?”

She held something out for him. It was a key.

“Zmierda,” he swore. “That’s Cazio’s key. The key to his triva. Where did you get that?”

“It’s a long story,” she said. “He wanted you to have it.”

“Is he well?”

She looked away, and Alo felt his heart sink.

“It was kind of him,” Alo said, “but it won’t do me any good. Some of Chiuno’s thugs are using it. They broke in a while back.”

“Chiuno?”

“The new lord of Avella,” he said. He lowered his voice. “A bandit, really. But with the Church in civil war and the Medicii all hurrying to take sides, little towns like ours get forgotten. I’m leaving myself this afternoon.”

“I see,” she said.

“Lady, who are you?”

“My name is Austra,” she replied.

“Can’t you tell me anything else about my friend?” he asked.

But she smiled a faint, enigmatic smile and walked away, mounted a scruffy-looking horse, and rode out of town on the Vio aza Vero.

Alo watched her go, then finished his wine and lay back, turning the key in his fingers.

He woke again, this time to a boot digging into his ribs. He opened his eyes carefully and found a rough-looking bearded man standing over him dressed much as the woman had been except that he had a rapier slung by his side. The woman, he saw, stood a few paces away.

“This is my spot, friend,” the fellow said.

And then, behind the beard, Alo recognized him.

“Cazio!”

“Hush,” his old friend said. “Let’s go for a walk in the country, and you can tell me a bit more about this Chiuno fellow. He sounds unpleasant.”

He offered his hand, and Alo took it, smiling.

I saw the Sefry flee for the deep and hidden places in the world. Most had not been involved with Fend, the Aitivar, Mother Uun, and her kin. Most never hoped that Qexqaneh would bring back

their days of glory. But once their secret was out, the lands of men were no longer for them, and they knew it.

I saw Marcomir die of apoplexy. I saw the army of Hansa pull back to the border. I saw the

Church descend into bloody civil war.

“Anne?”

Anne looked up from her reading. Her brother Charles was sitting on the floor across the Red Hall, cross-legged, playing with some cards.

“What is it, Charles?” she asked.

Charles rubbed his eyes. He was a grown man, older than Anne, but his mind was forever childlike, and so were his motions. “When is Hound Hat coming back?” he asked. “I miss him.”

“I don’t think he will be back, Charles,” she said gently. “But we shall find you another jester.” “But I liked him.”

“I know.”

“What about Mother? Is she coming back?”

“No, not her, either,” Anne told him. “It’s just us now.”

“But I miss everybody.”

“I do, too,” she said.

“I’m sad,” he said glumly, and went back to his cards.

Before she could return to her reading, she heard a soft voice near the door.

“Majesty?”

She glanced over and saw one of her pages standing there.

“Yes, Rob. What is it?”

“The earl of Cape Chavel, as you requested.”

“Thank you. Show him in directly.” She turned her gaze to the young woman standing behind her. “Alis,” she said, “why don’t you take Charles to see the new horses.”

“Are you certain, Majesty?”

“Yes, Lady Berrye, I am.”

“Very well,” Alis said. “Charles, could you go with me and show me the new horses?”

“Horses!” Charles echoed, bouncing to his feet. The two of them left arm in arm.

The earl entered a moment later. Rob left, too, and they were alone in the Red Hall.

Cape Chavel looked very fine, and she felt the ghostly tingle of the memory of his hands on her. Her heart felt very tender for a moment, very full.

“I’m so pleased to see you well,” he said.

“I’m pleased to see you, Tam.”

His jaw dropped for a moment. “You’ve never called me that,” he said. “Of course I’m pleased.” “I’m sorry I haven’t had time to speak to you before this,” she said. “There was a lot to do. The circumstances of that night—I don’t know how much you remember.”

“I remember it well, until our own soldiers trampled me,” he said. “I remember you rising from the dead, for instance.”

“I was never dead,” she said. “My soul fled my body for a time so it could heal, that’s all.”

“That’s all,” he said. “You say that as if it were nothing. I thought you were dead, Anne. I believed I loved you, but when I thought you were gone, I went mad. I don’t know how you came back to me, and I don’t care, only that you are back, and I love you even more dearly than before.”

“I love you, too,” she said. “Simply, honestly, without pretense. The way I have always wanted to love.” He closed his eyes. “Then why wait? You’ve already made me king of Virgenya. Surely everyone will agree we make a good match.”

She tried to smile.

“We make a good match,” she said. “We do not make the best match.”

He wrinkled a confused frown. “What do you mean?”

Anne wished just for a moment that she had the cold, terrible nature of that night back, but that Anne was dead, stillborn. Whatever she might become now had never been foreseen, and she meant to make the best of that.

“I must marry Berimund of Hansa,” she said.

“But you just said you love me.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “And so I wanted to tell you in person before you found out through the court. It will bring peace between us and Hansa.”

“They hate you there. They think you’re a witch.”

“Marcomir died five days ago. He was the heart of that hatred, but even so, yes—in Hansa I will not be loved. But it is, very simply, what must be done.”

“I don’t accept that.”

“You must. I hope to always be your friend, Tam, but no matter what, you will accept my word as your empress.”

He stood there red-faced for several heart-wrenching moments before he finally bowed.

“Yes, Majesty,” he said.

“That will be all for now.”

He left, and so she freed the last of those she loved, and felt another crack in her heart, and knew that this was what being a queen was.

I saw Anne cede her power to the Briar King, and then I helped Aspar—I still call him that sometimes—conceal the thrones again, better than before, I hope. The power wanes, and Anne passed laws against the use of the fanes. Time only will tell, for men and women are foolish. I’m proof of that.

Leoff kissed his son’s tiny forehead. The child looked about aimlessly with unfocused eyes, and he wondered what strange melodies might be in there, waiting for an instrument to give them life. Areana looked pale and beautiful in her sleep, and the glare of the midwife forbade him to wake her. He gave the child carefully back to the old woman and went out onto the grounds, whistling.

“Not a new singspell, I trust?” a raised voice asked from some distance off. It was Artwair, approaching on a dun mare.

“No,” he said. “Just a lullaby I’m working on.”

“So, well?” Artwair dismounted and let the horse have its head.

“All is well,” Leoff told him. “The child is healthy, and so is Areana.”

“Saints bless, that’s good news,” Artwair said. “You deserve some good fortune.”

“I don’t know if I deserve it,” Leoff replied. “But I’m grateful for it. How are things in Eslen?” “Quieting slowly,” the duke replied. “There are still rumors, of course, that the queen is really a demon, a saint, a man, or a Sefry beneath her clothes. Liery is still making noise about the wedding, and the winter was hard. But we have peace, and the early crops are good. Few monsters have been seen, and those only in the deep forests, far from town or village. And the Church—well, that might take time to settle out. Anne intends to establish her own, you know. One free of z’Irbina’s influence.”

“I wish her luck there.”

“She actually sent me to talk to you regarding that,” he said. “She’d like you to compose a hymn of thanksgiving to be sung at the lustration of the clergy.”

“That’s interesting,” Leoff said.

“You don’t want to?”

Leoff smiled. “I’ve already started on it.”

“I think we’re being followed, by the way,” Artwair said.

Leoff nodded. He had seen the flash of dress through the trees.

“She has a bit of a crush on you, I’m afraid.”

“And here I thought you were teaching her good taste.”

Leoff raised his voice. “Come on out, Mery, and say hello to the duke. And after that we have work to do, you and I.”

He heard her giggle, and then she appeared, skipping toward them.

When the law of death was mended, those creatures caught between fell one way or the other. He thanked the saints every day that she had fallen his way.

I see the last of the Faiths.

The boom swung and the sail caught wind, and the Swanmay cut through the rising waves. Neil leaned on the rail, staring out over the rough water at the rugged coastline.

“It’s beautiful,” Brinna said.

He nodded in agreement. “She’s a hard old rock, but I love her. I think you’ll like her, too.” She made a single fist of both of their hands. He winced a bit, for the whole arm was still tender, but he treasured the touch.

“We’ll stay here, then?” she asked.

He laughed, and she only looked puzzled.

“Would you make a liar of me?” he asked.

“I don’t even know what you mean.”

“I said I would take you away to where neither of us has duties. Now, the queen gave me my freedom and Berimund gave you yours, but we are still very far from that place.”

“And where, husband, would that be?”

“We will have to hunt it,” he said. “It could take the rest of our lives. Who knows how much of the world we shall have to see?”

And she kissed him and seemed young for the first time since he had known her. Together they watched Skern grow before them.