#
Chapter One
Saehan nudged the stable door open,
careful not to catch her leather glove on the splitting oak. The door swung inwards
on squeaky hinges before clanking against the side of horse pens. The stench of
feces and unwashed horses attacked her nostrils, creeping into her hair and
clothes. Scuffling and muffled neighing accompanied it.
She tugged her skirt up a couple of inches
as she stepped over the threshold, tucking it at her cinched waist to avoid
dragging the fabric through the dirt and hay littering the floor. Her slippered
foot sank down in the soft ground. Already the wetness seeped through and oozed
between her toes. She hadn’t had time to don appropriate footwear with the War
Council beginning shortly, but her skirts would hide the mud sticking to her
feet once she released them later. The confrontation she would have with her
mother, the Queen of Brakai, over the destruction of the new shoes was
inevitable so she pushed the thought from her mind.
The early evening light came in through the elevated rear window.
Horse pens lined the aisles. The closest pen housed a young brown colt who
shook his mane and snorted at her before returning to his shuffling. Saehan
avoided the numerous horses stretching their necks beyond the chest high
fencing as she walked down the centre aisle. Their snorts caused the curly hair escaping her braid to shift.
The stable was grimier than usual. Shovels and buckets lay haphazardly in her
path in the perfect locations for someone to tumble if they were not careful. Saehan
needed to speak to Old Maverick about finding more hands for the upkeep of the
stables. A King’s stable required standards. With every clan gathered in the
Capital the servants were spread thin, having to cover double the amount of
work. Luckily most clansmen preferred to keep their horses in their own camps
so most of the stable housed solely the King’s horses.
Following the muffled voice of Old
Maverick, Saehan found him carefully brushing a horse’s mane in the rear of the
stables. He crooned, “Wha’ have the lads been doin’ with yer hair? Ye’d think
they thought ye was a mule by the way they treat ya.” His face was only serene when
he was tending to the horses.
Not wanting to startle him Saehan cleared
her throat as she got closer.
His back straightened and his fists
tightened. “Wha’ do ye want? Yer supposed to be feeding the horses in the yard,
ye stinkin’…” He squinted up at Saehan. He grunted in recognition, the lines
smoothing out on his weathered face. “Sorry, princess. I dinna see ye there.”
“Not a problem,” she said.
“It’s just my eyes aren’t doin’ so well,”
he said. He turned back to the horse to give it a solid pat. He picked up a
pail full of dark liquid and strode past Saehan. “So whatta ye be wantin’?”
She fell into step beside him, keeping her
distance from the pail. Its contents splashed over the metal rim with every
stride. It sprayed Old Maverick’s pants, though it was indiscernible from the
other stains marking the rough spun fabric.
“Has the messenger from Nephrexia
arrived?” Saehan asked.
“’Fraid not. Though that dinna surprise
me. Times are changin’, things aren’t as they yousta be. Royals thinkin’ they
can do whatever they damn well please.” As they walked he patted the horses on
the snout and picked up the shovels that lay across their path. He leaned them
up against the stalls. “Some noble prob’ly ordered him to stay for a coupla
more days in Nephrexia since he couldna find the time to write one measly
letter in the two weeks the messenger attends court there. Lazy, the lot of
them. Don’t consider that my boys want to come home and rest, they don’t. Not
that yer lazy, Highness,” he added, in afterthought.
“Of course,” she said to Old Maverick’s
back. She hurried to follow him out of the stable.
He approached the fenced pasture. A few
horses came over to investigate. He made a clicking sound in the back of his
throat which caused the horses to move away before he dumped the slimy contents
into a ditch. For a moment he stared out across the field at the horses gently
grazing, his rough face contemplative. His gaze moved past the fields to the
tall mountains rising behind. The closest ones were covered with snow, the
farthest ones were smoky blue silhouettes.
He turned. “I hope what yer waiting for
isna important. I’ve heard the half giants are getting restless. Even if the
messenger managed to get out of Nephrexia, chances are he wouldna make it
through Folkra Pass. Even in their caves they can sense the approaching war.
But it canna mean anything good. Those bastards would likely fight against us
than with us. Prob’y they’d use it as an excuse to shed more blood.”
He spat on the ground, narrowly missing
her feet. At his expectant look, Saehan spat as delicately as possible. While
she knew superstitions were false, the nobility had to conform to them when in
the presence of the common folk or they might find headless poultry on the
castle’s doorstep by morning. Often the silliest superstitions lasted the test
of time, no matter that the Church taught differently. The only power dictating
fate were the Seven Gods.
“Is that what you believe?” Saehan asked.
“That the half giants will fight against us?”
He shrugged. “It don’ matter what I think.
All’s any of us can do is hope that those howlers stay in the mountains where
they belong. I havena heard anything from nobody concernin’ none of them plans
from Nephrexia, ye ken. Now I don’ want to hear that you’ve been spreadin’ any
rumours about Old Maverick claimin’ those half giants are enemies I don’ need
any more trouble. These days are hard enough.”
“You know I would never divulge
information said in confidence,” Saehan said, hoping to encourage him to
continue.
He shook his head.
These days no one talked strategy with
her. Not the Advisors of the King nor the common folk. They were too frightened
that by admitting any theories the King might view them as Nephrexian spies.
Two months before the King had discovered an Advisor secretly passing
information about their battle strategies to the Nephrexian nobility. The King
had set an example that no one could forget.
“If there’s nothin’ more I can do for ye,
I have to get back to work. The stalls won’t get mucked out by themselves. Unless
ye wanna lend a hand.”
Saehan barely refrained from shuddering.
“No thank you.”
He grinned, exposing rotting teeth. “Too
bad.”
When she still didn’t leave he sighed.
“When the messenger gets back I’ll send any message for ye to the castle.”
“As soon as his feet touch soil?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He headed back into the stables,
empty bucket in hand.
“Thank you,” she called after him.
Likely the letter would be sent with all
the rest, which could be hours after it had arrived. She would have preferred
to stay and prove a point. If she was to be queen one day she required the
respect and loyalty of her subjects. Unfortunately she had the War Council to
attend. The Advisors would use lateness as yet another excuse that she wasn’t
mature enough to take the throne. They would claim she was taking her position
lightly. The countless hours she had spent studying and preparing made no
difference to them.
The letter would have been a huge asset
during the meeting, but she would have to do without. The ability of adjusting
to situations was crucial to being a strong leader.
The wind picked up as the path steered
closer to the sea, lifting the sweet smell of seaweed and rotting fish. The
last of the winter air whipped by her face, the cold sting against her cheeks
familiar. She decided to deviate off the main path. Walking along the shoreline
would save time instead of going through town. It also prevented her from
meeting anyone who might distract her from reaching her destination.
Moored far out at sea were the dark outlines
of anchored ships, outlined by the red of the setting sun. She had often heard
that the figureheads that donned the curving bow were more telling of the
sailor than any words he ever spoke. Then it was no surprise to see scantily
clad woman and creatures’ heads carved into the aged wood.
Light chatter rose from the beach in a
foreign language. Four men tied ropes to the harnesses of a team of six horses.
Saehan guessed the horses to be Eastern Brakaian due to their big chests and
long legs. With a loud shout and a smack to the rump of the lead horse, the
animals starting moving up the shore, shoulders straining and breathes coming
heavy. The thick, mollusk encrusted rope dragged along the rocky shore, it rose
out over the water to where it attached to a raft. As the load slowly cut
through the waves, the men stopped the horses every ten steps to shorten the
rope. The barnacled rocks along the shore crunched under the weight of hooves
and boots.
The approaching raft was crammed with an
assortment of exotic fruits, and cloth of gaudy yellows and reds. Such colours
were a new trend amongst some of the younger nobles, who preferred foreign
fabrics to the sturdy cloths of their home land.
Saehan quickly lost sight of it and became
nervous of reaching the meeting on time. Nearing the castle, she adjusted her
long braid to ascertain its tightly woven appearance and dropped her skirts to
hide her dirt encrusted slippers. The wet grass had removed some of the muck.
Grit slid back and forth between her toes.
She could never imagine the castle as one
day belonging to anyone but the King. The bricks held history in each stone.
Some marks remained from an ambush won or a party becoming overly rowdy, others
echoed in the halls unseen of those who have given their lives for their duty;
events so harsh and shocking that the castle would never be free of them, not
as long as it stood proudly. It was a true testament to the strength of the
kingdom hidden behind towering mountains, only accessible by sea or Folkra Pass.
Saehan preferred the oldest sections of
the castle. She had spent her childhood exploring through
the secret tunnels that lined the walls that servants centuries past used to
move unnoticed. They had been blocked long ago when it became popular for servants
to be visible, though she had discovered a few hidden entrances. The days of
playing were over so she hadn’t stepped inside those dusty corridors in years.
The courtyard was a later addition,
encircled by a low wall. Its primary purpose was to showcase gardens that a
previous King had been fond of but in recent years had fallen to disrepair. Yet
another project that Saehan had been working on as of late.
The majority of those bustling in the front courtyard
were from other clans. The clans had come from all corners of the kingdom and brought
a stampede of people in their wake. Each clan tried to outdo the other with the
size of their crowd. Their camps were established along the rolling grasslands
beyond the castle walls, stretching on for two leagues. Each clan clearly
defined their land with flags. Most spent their days in town where a striving
market had opened. Though successful, Saehan didn’t have time for frivolities,
and the crowds would give her a headache but she had overheard many positive reviews.
A soldier opened the door of the castle
and Saehan nodded as she passed through, rehearsing her speech in her mind. The
warm air cushioned her chilled skin. Even as she completed her speech without
pause she still felt her stomach tighten. Luckily she had passed on breakfast
that morning.
She kept her eyes staring ahead, unseeing
as she cut through the servants and nobles walking through the corridors. Most
veered out of her way. The few that had the audacity to require her to move set
her teeth on edge. Even as heir to the throne, some foolish nobles believed
that her gender meant she didn’t require their respect.
When she passed the entrance to the King’s
study she heard raucous laughter from within. Off limits for everyone but the
King, the room was filled with precious artifacts and expensive baubles meant
to impress visitors. They were irreplaceable. Whoever was in the room did not
have permission to be there.
She sighed, delayed once more.
All four walls of the room were lined with
books from all over the world, written in common languages and those long
forgotten. But Saehan was not impressed by them for though they were especially
beautiful, they were quite dull. The truly important ones were held in the
library. These were only meant to serve one purpose: to appear important. The
same could be said for the various objects scattered throughout the room on
stands, each one angled just so.
Some of the pedestals also housed empty
liquor bottles.
A dozen young nobles stood casually around
the study. Only three were lounging on the lavish couch in the centre of the
room, which was draped in frasgir fur. Vashiki, her brother, sat in the middle
with his arms slung around girls on either side, one hand casually holding a
glass of wine. One well-polished shoe was casually perched across his other
knee and he looked to his companions with a lazy grin. He leaned forward to
whisper to the brunette on his right and she giggled flirtatiously.
As he withdrew, his hair, a few shades
darker than Saehan’s, glinted under the dull lamp light. The only family trait
they shared besides their limpid brown eyes, the corners turned down to give
the appearance that they were on the verge of crying, was their dark skin. It
stood out in stark contrast with the pale Brakaians but no one ever mentioned
the traits they had received from their mother in their vicinity. But Vashiki
had also inherited their mother’s full lips and well sculpted cheekbones.
The girls on the couch were tactless, smiling
and going on as if Vashiki had placed the sun in the sky. Flocked around him
was his usual crowd of noblemen, both male and female. They were all bedecked
in richly dyed clothing of bright yellow and red. The men’s shoes shined as
they pranced around the room. Sweat beaded their flushed
faces.
The sight of these people caused Saehan to grit
her teeth.
Saehan stomped in the room, grabbing
bottles that were moments away from tipping over and destroying priceless
artifacts. A plump boy nearby stared at her, mouth gibbering, when she shoved
all the bottles into his arms and said, “Dispose of these and tidy this room.”
He hustled from the room. He would not
return.
“Everyone,” she said, raising her voice in command, “you have
ten seconds to leave with your drinks. If anything is damaged I will have your
hide.”
There was a mass scramble as people
straightened and smiles disappeared. They paused in their scurry for the door
when Vashiki said, “She is merely teasing.”
Eyes shifted between them, unsure of what
to do.
Saehan did not have time to debate on
trivial subjects so she did not contest him. Chances were he had obtained permission from
the King to use this room, or the King would excuse him of the behaviour later
and she would once again be left looking the fool.
Saehan regarded Vashiki with her coldest
stare. He still lounged instead of rising to greet her properly.
“Time is slipping away and the War Council
is fast approaching,” she said. “For what reason are you still dallying here?”
He chuckled, his eyes crinkling though the
hardness of his lips betrayed his annoyance. “It is wonderful to set eyes upon
you too.”
“I am serious.” She placed her hands on
her hips.
He shrugged dismissively. “Alas, I am not
going to the meeting.”
Saehan stepped forward. “You must. It is
your duty as a member of the royal family to attend and to be present before
the men of the kingdom. This is more than our customary meetings. This is meant
to show the unity between our people.”
His false smile fell from his lips. “It
will not make a difference whether I am present. It is much more enjoyable
here. These ladies provide quite the entertainment.” He nodded to the woman on
his left. “Those old bastards do not listen to anything but their own voice.”
“Oy, my father happens to be one of those
old bastards,” a boy said, his voice slurred.
“Then it is no wonder you’ve grown up to
be a man of such intriguing caliber,” Vashiki said.
Through the laughter, Saehan’s gaze did
not waver. “Perhaps if you contributed your ideas to the parlay they would take
your opinion seriously.”
He snorted. “I must beg pardon. I was not
aware that any had even glanced at the stack of proposals you have brought to
them ever since you left your dolls for the books.”
She fell silent. He had no right to mention
her rejections here, in front of all these people. He had no right to mention
them ever. She tightened her jaw against irrational responses.
To his credit Vashiki did look contrite.
He stood up and handed his glass off to a nobleman standing behind the couch. He
gave an apologetic look to his companions. “Excuse me a minute.”
He guided Saehan a few steps away with a
hand on her back. Presumably to give her privacy. He gestured for everyone to
begin talking amongst themselves but Saehan sensed their ears straining.
Vashiki cleared his throat. “You must know
I did not intend it as a slight against your person. It was only a remark
against them. We can all see how hard you work. Every single one of Father’s Advisors
are cracked not to listen to your brilliant ideas.”
Her guard softened but she refused to show
any leniency. Only her brother showed her support. If he was free, he would
attend the Councils whenever she had a huge project to display to give her his
vote. No one ever followed suit but the loyalty was comforting.
“They had every right to turn down my
propositions,” Saehan said. “They were unrealistic. Simply idealistic delusions
of a young girl.”
“Still,” he said. “I thought them
interesting.”
He showed vulnerability. Perhaps if she
made him feel guilty he would join the meeting. She had to appeal to his soft side;
he was often eager to please others. “It is still important that you be
present. We need to show a united front, especially with the doubling of Nephrexia’s
troops in the past year. They are searching for any point of weakness.”
He refused to meet her gaze. “I was not
aware that it had escalated to that point.”
“These Councils are vital. There are
imminent dangers on the horizon. Last week we spent the entire council
discussing the repercussions of war. It was very insightful for those who
attended.”
“I am certain it was.”
The silence hung awkwardly between them.
“Why do I need to attend these meetings?”
he asked petulantly. “You could do it in my place and report back with the
essentials. All I need is an overview like you have just presented.”
“Vashiki…”
His friends hooted at him from behind,
like animals. Presumably a good joke had been said.
Vashiki’s good natured grin returned as
his composure snapped back into place. He had a captive audience behind him. He
put one hand on his heart. With a tragic stare he said loud enough for his
friends to overhear, “I concede. You have worn me down. I will attend one of
these dreary meetings. Just for you.”
His friends laughed.
She reached to
take his elbow and remove him from the room but he pulled back. “I will attend
a meeting, but not today. It is Nakaya’s birthday and we must celebrate.” He
gestured to the brunette on the couch. “We have arranged a party in town. With
the market booming it will be talked about for days.”
Saehan eyed a liquor bottle balanced on
the arm of the couch. “It seems as though you have already been celebrating.”
He groaned. “Do not act that way. Staying
conservative is not living. Join us. Loosen your stays and take a breath of
life.”
She shook her head. “No, thank you. Some
of us have responsibilities to attend to. I do not need…loosening up.”
He smiled and made as if to ruffle her
hair. She moved away, one hand covering her head. She shook her head once more
to show her displeasure. He needed to grow up. Though he would never have vast
amounts of political power he needed to be respectable. It wouldn’t due for him
to run around causing mischief when she was sitting upon the throne. But now
was not the time. There was never any time.
She left. Unfortunately someone followed
her from the room.
Leofwin fell into step beside her. He
handed off his glass to a servant girl passing by in the hallway, his accent
thick. “Take tha’ back to the kitchen, will ye.”
The girl blushed at his lazy smile and juggled
the pile of clothing in her hands to accept his cup. She nodded quickly before
hastening her steps. Leofwin looked over his shoulder to watch her leave,
steering into Saehan’s path.
She pushed his shoulder out of her way.
“For a monk you do not seem to have much issue with drinking and partying.”
“Maybe the Gods want me to enjoy life.
Besides, I only grew up in Peyif. I came to Brakai to leave that behind and
become a famous knight.” He pretended to sword fight with an invisible partner
for a few steps.
“Perhaps if you repeat it enough times it
might actually come to fruition. It does not seem as though you are very
driven. Alexi informed me that you missed the last week of training. Excellence
can only be attained through practice.”
“Since when do you speak to that old
coot?” He ran a hand through his shoulder length brown hair.
Saehan hated the disadvantage of looking
up when speaking to him. “If you must know, I was speaking to him about the new
recruits and the subject changed to you. You are lucky that we are currently on
the verge of a war or he would cast you aside so quickly your head would spin.
It took me all afternoon to convince him not to hunt you and skin you for your
disrespect.”
“I didn’t know you had-how do I say this
without ruining your sensibilities?-taken a fancy for me.”
“I have not. And you should not take this
lightly. Alexi is a renowned knight and yet he wastes his time training you
amongst his elite. Training under a man such as he is a blessing which many
other young men would not take for granted. I even encouraged your
disqualification but the man was adamant about your potential.”
“Ye encouraged him to remove me from the
team?” His eyes widened. His anger brought forth his accent, garbling his words
like a commoner. Even though he only spent half a year in Brakai, he had taken
to the culture with a vengeance, in all aspects.
“Of course I did. We do not require lazy
soldiers in the army with a war approaching. Only the best should be given the
privilege of holding the banner of Brakai as they ride into battle. And if you
do not start attending more meetings, the next time I speak with Alexi I will
not be recommending anything. It will be a royal decree.”
He laughed. “Yes ma’am. There have jus’
been so many things happenin’ lately…”
“Vashiki has already informed me. Speaking
of, the party is to begin shortly and you would not want to miss it.”
“Don’t worry, the party won’t be over for
hours. I wanted to check in with you before the meeting.” His voice cleared and
his shoulders relaxed.
Though his words were clearer, she knew to
expect him to be cleverer when comfortable.
“Thank you, but I am fine,” she said.
“I know, but you would say that even if
you were on the verge of snapping. Keep in mind, this is a time of war and
things change within a moment’s notice. You have to be prepared for anything.”
“Which is why this meeting was announced.
So we could prepare for as many situations as possible.”
He grunted and spun to grip her shoulders,
halting their walk. “I don’ think ye understand what I am tryin’ to tell you. Ye’ve
always been really good at seeing situations without letting yer emotions cloud
yer judgement but the rest of us aren’t always so good at seein’ past our
emotions. Do ye understand?”
“Not entirely.” She moved backwards but he
tightened his grip before releasing. She gave him a tight smile to show her
displeasure at being manhandled. “As much as this conversation is fascinating I
must depart. It would not be seemly for me to arrive late. It is respectful to
show up to one’s commitments on time.”
He frowned but he did not stop her passage.
She glanced back out of the corner of her eye as she turned the corner to see
him rubbing his face with both hands.


