Sins of the Father - Chapter Thirty-Two (Patreon)

*****

Chapter Thirty-Two

*****

Queen Kathlyn of Illandra watched the world pass by through her gilded carriage window. She’d long since lost track of the days, of the weeks she’d spent away from home. Though her men kept her advised of their progress, showed her the convoy’s location on maps, everything still blurred together. One endless forest beyond her windows stretched into another, and another. One day, there were hills, and rocky outcrops and old watchtowers. Another day, there were pastures and fields and farmhouses.

After so many days of endless travel, even time seemed an ephemeral thing. Kathlyn gazed out the window at stands of towering pine trees, like great green pikes poking at the sky. She could not tell where the sun was, let alone what time of day it was. Only that it was sometime between late morning, and early afternoon. The fullness of her belly reminded her they’d stopped for a brief lunch, at some point. Beyond that, she knew only that they had hours left to go until nightfall. Then they would stop, hastily assemble a small army’s worth of tents, and rest of the night. In the morning, everything would be taken down, packed away, and another day long journey would begin.

The Queen sighed, leaning her head back against the plush, pale blue upholstery that padded the heads above her seats. She ran her hands against the silken cushions, adorned with the same pale blue shades. Her grand carriage was decorated with a gentle blue and bright silver variation of Illandra’s colors. Gold filigree decorated her window frames. Silver ropes held back indigo curtains on either side of the windows. Mirrored lamps sat outside each window. Another was affixed to the elegant, oval-shaped table that sat between the plush bench-style seats. It was comfortable and spacious enough, though on warm days it grew unpleasantly stuffy. Her security officers all advised her strongly against leaving her windows open during their travels.

The Queen’s carriage had several other small cabins, as well. One continued a cozy bed with warm, goose-down blankets, a place for her to rest or sleep as they traveled. Another had a desk with secured drawers containing writing utensils, parchment, a few books, important documents, and more. Finally, there was a chamber of refuge. Though the entire carriage was armored, with windows of a thickness to withstand crossbow bolts and more, the chamber of refuge was the most secure place in the convoy. It was lined with its own layer of armored materials, reinforced doors, a temporary supply of rations and water, and most importantly, it was heavily fireproofed. The rest of the carriage could burn down, and the chamber of refuge would remain intact, and safe.

Or so Kathlyn had been assured. She wasn’t entirely sure it was fireproof as they said, especially when it came to dragons. And even if it was, she feared the temperature in such a conflagration might rise to intolerable levels. It would do her little good to survive the flames, if she ended up baked like bread in an oven. Still, even since the Mad King’s family had perished in dragon flames, all royal conveyances were deigned to include a chamber of refuge that could withstand a dragon’s flames.

Kathlyn could only hope she’d never find out just how safe it truly was. Her security detail was certainly doing everything they could to prevent her enemies from tracking their travels, at least. Hell, Kathlyn thought, even she didn’t know where the hell they were, these days. She scowled to herself, glancing at the window again. More rows of pine trees slowly rolled by. They were on some isolated country road, traveling through an old growth pine forest. Even with all the maps she’d poured over lately, the best she could do now was guess that they were in the southern reaches of old Illandra.

The Queen drummed her fingers against her lush, pale blue seat, and let her thoughts drift to the purpose of her travels. Her purpose, she thought. Although Kathlyn was on an official diplomatic mission, the true nature of her journey remained shrouded in secrecy. Furthermore, their travel plans, their approximate expected location at any time, and their final destination were known only to a select handful of people outside those in the convoy itself. Even some of the workers and servants within the travel party remained in the dark about just what they were doing, and where they were going.

Though it was impossible for a royal diplomatic convoy to stay completely hidden, nevertheless they worked to minimize the most obvious signs of their presence. They avoided the largest thoroughfares and most populous cities whenever possible. Instead, they traveled the winding backroads, passing through smaller farming towns and minor trade hubs located at crossroads deep in the countryside. Even though, sometimes after passing through a settlement, her guards chose to change directions, if only to throw off any watchful eyes in the darkness. Such circuitous routes might well make for additional days of travel, but it was worth if it kept Illandra’s enemies guessing.

Nonetheless, Kathlyn still found herself wondering if such precautions were worth it. If her son’s fears were correct, then Death in the Night already knew her destination, and had no intentions of letting her reach it. After all, what better chance would they ever have to strike at Illandra’s queen than when she was far beyond the safety of her castle walls? Her beloved gryphon Krek, Kathlyn’s top spy and intelligence agent, even believed The Wind That Carries would attack the convoy herself. If that was true, Kathlyn doubted all the misdirection in the world would be enough to escape the great blue dragon’s wrath.

But it did not hurt to make the effort. Though Death in the Night likely had eyes everywhere, it was believed most of their intelligence assets and spy networks were localized in the larger cities. After all, there was little information of use to be gleaned from the talk of farmers grousing about the weather, the quality of their soil, and the price of crops. Even if The Wind’s agents were embedded in the smaller towns and villages, there would be far less of them. They might spot the convoy proceeding south of town, and lack the resources necessary to trail it for three days, in order to realize they were actually turning back to the west. And if they reported the Queen was traveling south, that might mean more enemy assets shifted in that direction, perhaps even pulled from the west. And any amount of time that Death in the Night lost to trying to track her down anew, was time they could not use to set up an ambush. If they gave the old blue dragon incorrect information, she might waste a day’s flight traveling to the wrong roads, and another day’s back. That time could prove key to slipping through the dragon’s claws, and making it to Aran’alia alive.

Kathlyn believed if she could make it far enough into the Twenty-Fourth Province, then she would be safe. There, she would meet with elements of the province’s local leadership, elements not beholden to the noble houses who claimed rulership, and declare her plan to offer Aran’alian it’s independence. Surely, once the populace of Aran’alia knew she wished to grant their wishes of freedom, then Death in the Night would be forced to call off their attack.

Or so Kathlyn hoped. In truth, even she knew her plan was incredibly risky. She was exposing herself to a direct attack from the very dragon who once fought against her ancestors’ conquest of Aran’alia in the first place. For another, the idea of provincial independence was still wildly unpopular amongst her own people, particularly the noble houses. Kathlyn had spoken her plans aloud to scarce few people, in hopes of keeping from the nobles until it was too late for them to resist it. But once the truth was out there, once the gears of freedom were turning, then the nobility might prove every bit as large a threat to her as Death in the Night. For Aran’alian’s freedom meant their loss of power.

Generations ago, the many families of nobility considered themselves to be the secondary rulers of Illandra, behind only the royalty. They were advisors, they were ministers, they were generals, and most importantly, their were financiers. They were formed of the families of Illandra’s wealthiest and most prosperous bloodlines, and used their coin to twist Illandra around their fingers. They pushed and pulled and sought to mold the nation into whatever image they most coveted. As Illandra expanded, the royal family pushed back by giving the nobles what they most desired. They gave them power. For each new province that was conquered and added to Illandra’s already vast countryside, the nobles were granted rulership of that territory. Over time, as their families recentralized within the provinces they controlled, Illandra’s royalty divested itself of their most direct influence.

These days, while the noble families retained an influence and importance within the capital, it was far diminished. Kathlyn made a point to ensure that none of her trusted advisers or ministers had even an ounce of noble blood running in their veins. Though they still retained an outsized influence on Illandran politics in general, held stakes in banking institutions, and dangled financial incentives in front of her people, Kathlyn had successfully retained her independence from them. It was no surprise then, that she had proven a wildly unpopular monarch amongst the nobility. Kathlyn could only imagine their revulsion, should they discover that she planned to wrench away the very power and rulership they’d held for generations in order to give the provinces back to their rightful owners.

Kathlyn was under no illusions that she would be safe even when this was all over. Death in the Night already wanted her head on a pike. And soon, so too would the noble houses of the 24th province. For if she succeeded, in a decade or so, there would be no 24th province of Illandra. There would only be the independent nation of Aran’alia. The noble houses there, the families of those like Lord Armadine, and the recently missing Lord Asterbury, they stood to lose everything. Surely, she thought, they would try to stop her with blood.

On the other hand, Kathlyn pondered, Death in the Night stood to gain everything. At least, if their fight was truly for Aran’alia’s freedom. If so, then they would have nothing left to fight for. At least, not with Illandra. Their goals would be completed, their homeland freed for Illandra’s grasp. They could pull their hidden knives away from Illandra’s throat, and turn their efforts towards building their own nation anew. Or more likely, turn their blades to the nobles who she feared would not likely give up their grip on power without bloodshed. If only they could be convinced to protect the woman who wished to grant their freedom, from the nobles who wished to deny it.

In truth, Kathlyn doubted Death in the Night would ever truly seek peace. Some of them would, to be sure. But she was certain there numbers were matched by the true extremists, who sought only revenge, only blood for blood. They would not be sated until they saw Illandra burn, as Aran’alia had burned. Even after she had granted their homeland its freedom, some of them would still only see her as the emblem of all the atrocities ever committed against their people.

Yet freedom Kathlyn would grant them just the same. For too long, too many had suffered under her country’s cruel yoke. In times long before even her ancestors were born, Illandra had pillaged, looted, and conquered much of the continent. Dozens of smaller nations had fallen before them, and been absorbed into their empire. Even after their wars had ended, monarchs, nobles, and commoners alike had turned a blind eye to the suffering of their victims. In Kathlyn’s youth, she saw the burgeoning to make things right begin under her parents rulership. And in her young adulthood, she heard firsthand the tales of the suffering of conquered peoples. She listened to the stories that so often went unheard by those in power. She listened, and she believed them. And by the time her child was born and learning to walk, Kathlyn had already decided what her monarchy would one day be about.

Atonement.

Enough was enough. Someone had to take the first real steps. Someone had to recognize the injustice they had done, and set about making it right. Everything she had done as queen was another small step towards that goal. Even her dealings with the woman named Alia had been part of process. To install an aran’alian in a position of power, to normalize the idea of aran’alians holding important roles even within Illandra. As far as Kathlyn was concerned, one day an Aran’alian might well be the Illandran monarch. In Kathlyn’s mind, bloodlines were no measure of merit, or rulership. For now, though, she would settle for giving Aran’alia it’s freedom back. With any luck, it would be the first of many provinces granted independence.

Yet Kathlyn was under no illusions that it would be an easy process. At best, there would likely be years of difficult negotiations, followed by years more of harsh growing pains. But such measures were necessary both to ensure Aran’alia’s success and stability as an independent nation, and also to shield Illandra from as much of the hardship of losing a part of themselves as possible. For beyond the immediate physical danger to Kathlyn herself, threats loomed for Illandra well.

The freedom of Aran’alia would not come without cost to the land and people Kathlyn ruled, a realm and a populace she loved. When Aran’alia was truly severed from Illandra, so too would be severed the flow of commerce. Illandra would be bereft of income from taxation, and would not longer see a steady flow of rare ores, metals, stone, and the many other resources in which Aran’ali was rich. For every province newly freed and named once more a sovereign nation, Illandra’s coffers would drink a little further. People of all walks of life could find their livelihood in danger. Kathlyn dreaded to think of what hardships her decisions might wrought upon her people, and yet she knew it was her only choice.

Enough was enough, Kathlyn often told herself. Someone had to be willing to stand up, and do the right thing, however painful it may be.   

Together with her advisers, she had already crafted plans to mitigate as many of the expected difficulties as possible. Stipends for those who lost work, increased trade with other nations to balance the loss of commerce, further development of the remaining resources in Old Illandra, and so on. It was not perfect, nor would it ever be. But, they had time yet to refine their plans and programs to help all those in need.

Beyond that, Kathlyn had far longer term plans, as well. In due time, she hoped to develop friendly, prosperous alliances with all the newly independent states. Given a chance, a healthy flow of trade and commerce would make up for, and perhaps even exceed, any loss of taxes. Resources could be imported, and goods in return. New industries and lines of work would provide opportunities in both nations.

Kathlyn even had more personal, smaller-scale programs in mind. She wished to offer all the myriad Aran’alian refugees living in Illandra citizenship, should they wish it. Kathlyn so desperately wished to see them all accepted and welcomed with open arms and open hearts. She wished them to be welcomed as neighbors, not shunned as outcasts. Though she knew such a transformation might not even fully take place in her lifetime, it had to start somewhere. Allowing those who chose to do so to become citizens of Illandra was but one rung upon that particular ladder. But it would allow them to better their own lives, too. Her ministers were already developing programs for the future, designed to help the countless Aran’alias find better jobs, better housing, better treatment, and in time, acceptance.

Or so she hoped.

Alia had been her first test of such ideals, and she had worked out splendidly. Despite the resistance of some, she had proven herself a hard worker, and a capable leader. She’d won over damn near everyone she worked with. It had pained Kathlyn greatly to be forced to expel the poor woman, however short her sentence was. Yet even in her trial, Alia had demonstrated exactly the sort of attributes the queen wished for others to see. As soon as Alia was allowed to return, Kathlyn was sure the castle’s many occupants would welcome her return. And if those who served at the very heart of Illandra could find it within themselves to welcome an Aran’alian, then surely all her people could.

Assuming, of course, that the dragon didn’t escape and take Alia with him. Kathlyn chuckled to herself at the thought. She had given great consideration to Alia’s request to the set the dragon free. In the end, Kathlyn had to admit that Alia was right. There was no more reason to hold the old beast captive. After one hundred fifty one years, Valyrym had suffered enough. However, there were political obstacles to simply ordering his freedom.

Which was why she’d left her trusted man Enric with the possibility of ‘Plan B’. It would easier for everyone if the dragon did just escape one day. Valyrym would have his freedom, and Kathlyn would have deniability. She could even say the dragon had forcibly abducted his warden to take her with him, in order to avoid suspicion falling upon Alia’s aran’alian ancestry.

A sudden series of bumps and the clattering of iron-straked wheels against uneven stone roused Kathlyn from her thoughts. She looked out the window, and found the pine trees temporarily replaced with the arches and beams that supported an old stone bridge. Kathlyn leaned against the window, trying to see the stones across which her carriage’s wheels rattled. Though the bridge was old, and likely rarely traveled, at least it looked as though it was in good shape. A lazy river slowly flowed by beneath her, its deep waters yielding no secrets.

Kathlyn leaned back against her seat, sighing. She wondered, briefly, if she’d ever crossed this version bridge with Ihra. Her throat tightened. These days, she thought of her dear, beloved Ihra only rarely. But when they memories did pour into her mind, they arrived with a rush of pain, sharp and cold. A part of her still loved him. A part of her would always love her dearest Ihra. How she wished he could have been there to see the strong, courageous man their son turned out to be. She and Elvir might not agree on everything, but there was deep love between them, and she was immensely proud of the man he’d grown into. She knew Ihra would have been proud of his son, too.

Throughout her journey so far, Kathlyn could not help but find her thoughts turning to her lost husband far more often than they had in years. They had traveled some of these same roads together, in the few short months for which they were wed. Kathlyn’s throat clenched, her eyes burned. A few sudden tears brimmed in them. All those years later, and she still missed him. She missed his boisterous laugh, his quiet smile, and the way his arms felt around her. Most of all, she simply missed him. Though she’d had a new beloved for many years, one love did not erase the pain of losing another.

Her latest terrible moments with Ihra were forever painted in blood upon her mind. The gryphon returning with Ihra’s tattered body. The last of his blood running free before her. His hand upon her cheek, trembling and clammy. His very last words, so utterly silent, and yet forever etched into her memory, a terrible echo that would never quite fade.

Love you.

Kathlyn whimpered, pressing a hand to her lips. She murmured against her fingers. “Love you too, Ihra.”

Decades later, and those terrible days still seemed so surreal. Sometimes, the memories of Ihra’s death and all that surrounded it were distant, and hazy, as though she was watching someone else’s life through the fog. Other days, her recollection was all too clear. How happy they’d been, traveling together, newly married. The sheer and utter terror that set in when they attack began. Her desperate flight for help. Her last memories of Ihra…

Her first memories of Krek.

How impossible it all seemed. From the happiest times of her life to the greatest tragedy she’d ever known, in what seemed like mere moments. When viewed through the prism of time, the whole terrible thing seemed like some bizarre dream, her mind flitting from one extreme to another, trapped in throes of unyielding sleep. Laughter and jokes with Ihra in one breath, mercenary assassins chasing her the next, and out of nowhere, a gryphon who sought only to save her.

To this day, Kathlyn could scarcely believe that Krek had somehow been there at exactly the right time to save her life. Treasure hunting, if she recalled. Searching for something to bring his own beloved. And he’d brought that poor young dragon something, alright. The daughter of his mother’s greatest enemies, without ever even realizing who she truly was. Somedays, Kathlyn still wondered about that. The gryphon had lived for ages with her enemies, and yet he had not heard her name. Then again, back then, half of Illandra didn’t know her name, either. When she was young, her parents did all they could to keep their daughter’s life as private as possible, as long as possible. Kathlyn supposed they thought that keep her safe from Death in the Night. In the end, it didn’t matter.

Even back then, she imagined That Wind That Carries would have known her name, if not her face. She suspected The Wind had never quite trusted Krek enough to provide him with that level of operational intelligence, even when he’d worked for her. Kathlyn took no amusement nor pleasure to think that the Wind had been right. She knew all too well what it did to Valar, and his family, when Krek chose to be loyal to Kathlyn, and not to The Wind That Carries.

That she had somehow earned the gryphon’s loyalty and love was one of the greatest honors Kathlyn could imagine. She sometimes wondered which came first between them, loyalty, or love. Certainly, love was never supposed to grow between them. He wished only to protect her because of a promise to her dead husband, and she wished only for someone she could trust, who would not judge her for her ideals, or who she might love. How ironic, then, that when she found that person, love slowly blossomed anew. And when she became queen, after her parents were stricken with the same illness that once ravaged Ihra’s family, she asked the gryphon if he would consider serving Illandra with her.

Krek’s answer was unequivocal.

I will never serve Illandra, but I will always serve you.

And for decades she dared not count, Krek had.

In all the world, there were only two people Krek was loyal to. One of them was Valar, and the other one was her. And for reasons Kathlyn would never understand, the gryphon had chosen her to spend his life with. Though she would never truly understand his decision, she would always be grateful for it. Taboo as it may be, she had found a love with him she did not think she’d ever know again. Krek would never replace Ihra in her heart, for there was room for both of them.

Kathlyn sighed, laying her head against the window pane. How she missed that damn bird. Wherever he was, she hoped he was safe. They’d been gone long enough now that he ought to be catching up to them soon. Though he had to travel all the way from Denoria back to the Illandran capital before he could pursue Kathlyn’s convoy, she knew the gryphon could fly faster than the damn wind itself if he had to. She smiled, and told herself that someday soon, she’d see her beautiful bird again. He’d fly in low, his armor glinting in the sunlight. She’d run to greet him, he’d scoop her up in his forelegs, and they’d shout their love to one another.

Kathlyn straightened, a scowl on her face.

Except, they wouldn’t. Not in full view of all her guards, and all the workers, and drivers, and everyone else. The Queen of Illandra could not consort with a gryphon, let alone love one. Especially not in the open. He would land, greet her, and she would give him a friendly hug, pet his ears, and ask her top spy for his report on the threat to her life. Only later, under the cover of darkness, would the gryphon finally hold in private. Then they could whisper their love and…

Kathlyn slapped the chair, cursing under her breath. They couldn’t even do that. Back home, she could visit the gryphon in his tower, where no one could see curled up together, or hear them profess their…their…Kathlyn’s scowl deepened. They’d never actually professed it, had they? She rubbed her face, whimpering against her palm. That was her fault. They knew they loved each other, and yet, they’d never spoken that love aloud, at least not precisely. The burdens of the monarchy weighed too heavily on Kathlyn, and she feared what it might do to public perception of her, should it become known that the Queen of Illandra had taken a gryphon as her lover.

And yet, everyone of importance to her surely already knew. Elvir certainly knew, and chastised her frequently for her. Her top officials knew. Enric, her best man and chief of security sure as hell knew. All her personal guards must have known. Kathlyn crossed her arms, still scowling. What the damn hell was the hold up, then? She stared out the window. In her mind, men in piecemeal armor sprang from well concealed hiding places, and set upon the carriage. Kathlyn shivered, squeezing her eyes shut. She had come as close to dying that day as she ever had. Kathlyn doubted she’d ever been in so much danger ever again.

At least, until this journey.

Her eyes shot open as a terrible realization hit her. If Krek’s fears were right, it was entirely possible she could be killed by The Wind That Carries without ever telling her beloved gryphon that she loved him. She could not imagine a crueler fate for poor Krek than to devote his life to someone, to know she loved him, but never hear her say those simple, heart-healing words. In her youth, she’d spoken those three words aloud to Ihra several times a day. But for all the years she had loved the gryphon, never once had she told him so.

“No…” Kathlyn shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “No, that’s not fair.” She swallowed, then took a shuddering breath. “I love you, Krek. I love you!” But Krek wasn’t there. Krek couldn’t hear her. “Damn it!”

Kathlyn punched the seat, anger and bitter sorrow mingling in her blood. The gryphon deserved better than to risk his very life for a woman who couldn’t even bring herself to admit her love aloud. If the end came swiftly, then Krek might never hear those words from the woman he had sworn to protect, and grown so deeply in love with. Kathlyn snarled to herself, punching her seat a few more times, until the upholstery scraped her skin, until her knuckles throbbed.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” Kathlyn shook her aching hand, frowning.

It wasn’t fair, she thought. It wasn’t fair to him to Krek that she couldn’t tell him the truth they both knew. It wasn’t fair to her that her position in life was more important than her personal feelings. Kathlyn had an entire nation to think about, to care for, and protocol was important. What people thought of her was important. Especially now. Though the monarchy was often considered unassailable, announcing her love for a gryphon would simply be giving the nobles ammunition to use to try and destabilize her rule, just before she could set Aran’alian on the path to freedom. And yet…how could she believe herself worthy to care for an entire nation, if she could not even do right by the person she loved most?

Kathlyn stiffened, setting her jaw. That was it, then. One way or another, she had to do right by Krek. She had to speak her love to him, while there was still time. Whether that meant she had to meet him somewhere in private, or whisper it into his ear under the guise of state secrets, she did not know. But Kathlyn had made up her mind. The next time she saw that damn bird, she was going to tell him she loved him.

The thought, the decision, left her smiling.

The rest of the day passed swifter and easier than those before it. Kathlyn felt as if some great burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Perhaps, in fact, it had. How long had she wanted to tell the gryphon that she loved him, yet dared not too? How long had she let fear of the repercussions prevent her from speaking the truth? Too damn long, she knew. Now, no sooner had she made up her mind to tell Krek how she felt, than she found herself eager to do just that. She wondered if he’d look more excited, happy, or simply baffled that she’d suddenly spoken the words she once told him she could not. Either way, she was certain it would buoy his heart to hear. Perhaps he’d even say it back, to her. Or perhaps the gryphon would be stunned into absolute silence. That would be a first, she thought.

With her mind more at ease than it had been in weeks, evening arrived swiftly. The convoy continued traveling as the sun settled against the horizon, casting orange fire across the sky. Beams of golden sunlight filtered through pine trees. They dappled her windows, and left the golden filigree aglow with the day’s final sunlight. When space alongside the road allowed, the carriages and wagons pulled off the thoroughfare. Kathlyn crossed her arms, patiently awaiting the flurry of activity that had to take place before her guards would allow her to emerge. She watched through the windows as workers and soldiers alike sprang into action.

Walls of men clad in steel and chain and bristling with weapons created a multi-layered defensive perimeter first around the Queen’s carriage, and then around the rest of the convoy. Archers intermingled amidst them, taking positions where they could target approach foes without risking an arrow in arrow in their comrades back. Other marksman adorned in camouflage clambered up into the pines, concealing themselves among the many boughs and needles.

Scouts ventured out beyond the perimeter, signaling one another with whistles and animal calls, attuned for any sign of danger, whether on the ground, in the trees, or circling in the skies above. Based on their signals, the convoys labyrinthine defenses could be adjusted as required. Soldiers repositioned, different weaponry passed out, arrows and bolts switched for those coasted with flammable oils or poisons, and so on.

Several of the wagons even contained far more impressive weaponry. Disguised as luggage and supply carts, they secretly contained something far more dangerous. Those were more recently developed, an offshoot of the so-called Sky Piercer protocol developed to protect Illandra in times of greatest need. Thus far, they had not once been deployed, in order to protect their secret from prying eyes. They would be most effective if their intended target did not know they existed until it was too late.

While the soldiers secured the area, an equally sizable army of workers set up camp all around the convoy. Luggage was unpacked, tents and sleeping cots sprang up everywhere, fire pits and latrines were dug, cooks set up makeshift kitchens, and more. Towering poles lifted a great blue and gray canopy near Kathlyn’s tent. Stakes were set into the ground, ropes lashed to canvas and supports, and in a flash her home for the night was built. Workers quickly unpacked furniture in pieces, assembling the Queen’s bed, some chairs, a desk for her to work at, a small dresser for her things, an assortment of liquor bottles, cups and tableware, and a large table where she could meet with her guards and advisors. Lamps were hung around the tent. Then they carted in rugs for the floor, blankets and bedding, and a small stove to warm the enclosure at night, if required.

As much as Kathlyn appreciated the efforts her people went through to ensure her comfort, she sometimes thought it was too much. Many nights she’d have been just as happy sleeping in the cozy little bed in her carriage, or even the simple tents the workers had. Yet, despite their efforts to conceal their exact route and eventual destination, they were still on an official diplomatic mission. As her dear servant Bownen put it, the Queen of Illandra could not be seen sleeping in a ratty old carriage bed, or some commoner’s lean-to. Secret mission or not, she remained the Queen of the most powerful nation on the continent, and her advisers thought it important she be treated as such. Kathlyn was less certain about that, but she was willing to admit to the importance of looking the part when meeting with the heads of other states, or states-to-be.

Eventually, a man clad in sturdy chain and plated mail approached her wagon. Like many of her personal guards, his armor was designed to provide a good mixture of protection, and maneuverability. His breastplate told her it was Edson, her chief bodyguard on this trip. Each of Kathlyn’s highest echelon of personal guards had a unique engraving upon the breastplate of their formal armor. Edson’s was a dragon, bearing a rose in its paws.

A sword was buckled around Edson’s waist, with an axe strapped across his back. Stern eyes peered out from beneath his iron helmet. Tufts of brown hair framed Edson’s sharp features and stoic expression. He thumped an armored fist twice against the carriage door. Kathlyn rolled her eyes, and tapped a single finger against her window twice in a return. Edson banged his gauntlet against the door three more times, and Kathlyn replied with a single finger tap. He stepped back, waving her forward.

“Alright, Your Highness.” Edson beckoned her again. “You can come out now.”

Kathlyn unlatched the sturdy deadbolts, and pushed the heavily fortified door open with a grunt. An influx of fresh air poured into the carriage, refreshing and cool compared to the stuffy air it stirred around her. As she paused to put on a pair of comfortable shoes of dyed red leather, a servant in a crisp, black and silver uniform was immediately outside the door. The servant set down a set of plush, upholstered steps for the queen to descend. Kathlyn sighed, hiking up the skirt of her lilac and gold dress. She stepped down and made her way onto the ground, then offered the servant a smile.

“Thank you, Stef.” She gestured at the stairs. “I really don’t need those, though. I’m perfectly capable of climbing from the carriage, to the ground. And it has its own retractable stair.”

Stef quickly picked up the miniature staircase with a smile. “Her Majesty deserves better than to hop out of a carriage like some common hired coach passenger, arriving at the local tavern.”

“Agreed.” The armored man clapped a fist to his chest in salute, and then walked behind Kathlyn to close the carriage door for her. “Simply because we’re in the middle of nowhere, is no excuse to let decorum fall by the wayside.” He waved at the earth, covered in mossy patches and pine needs. “If I had my way, we’d have carpets laid before you everywhere you went. A Queen shouldn’t be trodding about in the dirty forest like a lumberjack.”

“That’s what shoes are for, Edson.” Kathlyn took a few steps across the mossy ground, needles crunching beneath her feet. She groaned, stretching her back. Only when she started to walk about did she realize how sore her body was from sitting in the carriage all day. “And since we’re on the subject of what Queens should and shouldn’t do…” She shot the two men a pointed, but playful glare. “A Queen also shouldn’t be lectured by her guards and servants.”

A cheerful smile cracked Edson’s stoic expression. Amusement sparkled in his dark eyes. “Which is precisely what makes it so entertaining.”

“Indeed so.” Stef bowed, holding the small staircase. “If there’s anything Her Highness requires, please let me know.”

“Thank you, Stef.” Kathlyn leaned left and right, working out a few more cricks from her back. “I think I should like-”

Edson held a hand up. “Allow me, your majesty.” He cleared his throat, still grinning, then launched into a faux official tone, imitating her favored servant Bownen. “Her Majesty should like her nightly dram of whiskey waiting for her before dinner. Furthermore, she should like a hot bath prepared in her chambers before she takes her response for the evening.” He clasped his hands behind his back, armor clinking. “She also requires someone to yell at about the unpleasantly extended duration of this journey.”

Stef snickered, walking off. “The first two will be ready, as always. The third one, I should rather you’d find someone else to suffer her majesty’s ire. Perhaps the person planning all these detours. Which, if I’m not mistaken…” He glanced over his shoulder at Edson. “Would be you.”

Edson bounced on his toes. “Her Majesty would also like for you to find someone else to blame.”

Stef laughed at that. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Kathlyn smiled with them. As much as she missed the familiar comfort and pleasingly prim demeanor of her favorite servant Bownen, Stef was a fine replacement. She’d left Bownen in Illandra, in order to guide her son through the rulership of the kingdom. While she had no doubts that Elvir would make a fine king, he required someone to teach him the finer points of rule, and to shepherd him through the many daily tasks and routines that were required of the monarchy. She could think of no better choice for that than Bownen. Before she left, she asked Bownen to select one of his own men to serve as Kathlyn’s top servant and staffer on her trip.

Bownen selected his own deputy staffer, a man named Stef. Though Kathlyn had not known him well when the trip began, he proved an excellent selection. Stef every bit as much of a stickler for decorum as Bownen, yet had a playful sense of humor that fit in well with her personal guards. He’d acquitted himself well on the journey so far. She’d done her best to make it clear to him that while he worked as her servant, he was by no means a lesser person than she. He was as welcome to gently poke and tease at the Queen as her own guards were.

As for Edson, Kathlyn had known him for years. Just as Enric was her chief of security in the castle, so too was Edson in charge of her safekeeping when she traveled. Outwardly, the man was built of granite, both in strength of body and stoicism of demeanor. He was as skilled a brawler as anyone Kathlyn knew, and better still with a weapon his hand. Despite that, he had a mischievous sense of humor, an infectious laugh, and a smile that brightened even the darkest of moods. In some ways, he reminded her of her dearest Ihra. He too, had once simply been her bodyguard.

Edson held his arm out for her. “Where to, your majesty? Your tent? A seat around the fire?”

“Hell no,” Kathlyn said, twining her arm around his. “I’ve been cooped up in the carriage all day. I need to stretch my legs. Let’s just walk a bit.”

“As you wish.” Edson waited for Kathlyn to walk, then matched her pace. “Shall I summon your traveling advisors, that you might tell them all to piss off for the evening?”

Kathlyn laughed, strolling along at a gentle pace. Her legs appreciated the chance to move, again. “Tempting as that is, I think not.” She patted Edson’s arm. “We’ll wait for them to gather around me on their own, and then I’ll tell them to piss off.”

As evening fell, Kathlyn wandered around the camp with Edson. The fresh, pleasantly astringent scent of pine sap tinted the air. It mingled with the acrid scent of woodsmoke, and the tantalizing smells of food being prepared. Despite the ruckus caused by the camp, bird still chirped in the towering pines. Somewhere in the distance, something howled, perhaps upset the camp had scared off the local prey. Dry needles crunched beneath her shoes. Though the day had been a warm one filled with bright sunlight, the deep shade of the forests had kept the temperature from climbing too high. With the advent of twilight and clear skies, it would soon drop further still. Kathlyn looked forward to the warmth of the fire, and a comfortable bed.

Eventually, she headed for the sturdy, mahogany table set up for the Queen and her confidants, or anyone she might conduct official business with. The table was composed of multiple notched leaves and slotted segments. Even the legs, carved to resemble a gryphon’s paws, were removable. The whole thing was designed to be easily dissembled and packed away, then reassembled at a moment’s notice. The chairs that surrounded it followed the same principle. The chairs also had plush cushions affixed, some of maroon and others of gold. Thick rugs in matching colors were laid out beneath the table and its chairs.

A bottle of rare, well-aged whiskey awaited on the table, along with a silver platter covered in cured meats, cheeses, dried fruits, and slices of thick brown bread. Stef hurried over and pulled out the Queen’s chair for her at the head of the table. While Kathlyn’s chair was also designed to be taken apart and packed away, it was nonetheless far more elaborate than the others. Fanciful gryphons and dragons were inscribed into the chair’s back, with the arms carved into outstretched wings. The seat and back bore silken cushions, checkered with the blue and gray of Illandra.

Kathlyn sat down, scooting the chair forward. Stef produced an elegant, gilded silver drinking vessel in the shape of a half-open flower. He poured a measure of whiskey into it and set it before the Queen. Then he bowed stiffly, and backed away. He tucked his hands behind his back, awaiting any further orders or requests. Kathlyn sipped her whiskey, then gave a happy sigh, favoring the warming notes of candied apples, oak and spices. She set the vessel down, and picked a slice of cured meat, then waved at the platter.

“Help yourself,” Kathlyn said, before popping the bite into her mouth.

Stef shook his head. “That simply wouldn’t be proper, Your Highness.” He stepped forward and plucked a few slices of cheese and some dried apple from the plate. “Which is why, if anyone asks, I’ll lie and say I didn’t do this.”

Kathlyn smiled at him. “I’ll keep your secret.” She patted the chair near her. “Have a seat, if you like.” Then she glanced up at Edson. “You too.”

Stef chewed a slice of apple. “That, I really will have to turn down. I’m here to attend you, your highness. And as much as I appreciate the offer, I’ll need to go and fetch-”

Kathlyn held up her hand. “After dinner is served, you’ll sit and eat with me, as my guest.”

A half-smile curled at the corners of Stef’s mouth. “If her majesty insists.”

“She does.” Kathlyn picked up a slice of bread, stacking a bit of meat and cheese atop it. “The same goes for you, Edson, no matter how much you may try and ignore my invitations.”

Edson stood up straight. “I, too, appreciate the offer, Your Highness. But I’m still on duty, and charged with your protection. And these chairs aren’t suited for this manner of armor.”

Kathlyn bit her snack in half, chewing thoughtfully. She waggled the other half of it at the armored man. “With all due respect, Edson, if some murderous assassin or rage-addled dragon has made it all the way through the rest of our defenses, somehow I don’t think you alone will be enough to save me.”

Edson chuckled, shrugging. His armor rattled. “Nonetheless, ma’am.”

The Queen patted the whiskey bottle. “You’re also welcome to the whiskey.”

“Stef, help me get out of this damn armor.” Edson quickly unbuckled his weaponry.

Dinner was soon served to the Queen. Kathlyn insisted both Edson and Stef join her, despite Stef’s contention that he was required to wait on her instead. Earlier in the day, the convoy’s hunters had downed a few pheasants. They were plucked, rubbed with spices and roasted on a spit above hot coals. Those were served with a sauce made from preserved citrus, apple, brandy, and spiced butter. Alongside them were a plethora of vegetables, servings of rich bone broth, more thick bread with jam, and then sweet pastries for dessert. As Kathlyn had been unsuccessful in her attempts to convince Stef and the cooks she did not need frequent lavish feasts while traveling, she thought at least she could share it with her friends and confidants. Even when the three of them were pleasantly full, plenty of food remained. Kathlyn had it divided up against the cooks, hunters, and everyone else responsible for it in the first place.

After she’d eaten, the Queen had Stef fetch her an after-dinner drink. He poured her a glass of a rich port, redolent with black currants and tart cherries. As she sipped it, Kathlyn had Edson update her on the latest progress of her trip. He fetched a map of Illandra, and showed her their current location. Slowly but surely, they were drifting ever closer to the edges of Illandra’s borders. Edson traced a finger along the old, country road they followed, then pointed out a few various villages and farming towns they’d pass through in the next week or so. Some of them were situated at crossroads, where they might once more take a roundabout turn to throw off any potential spies and enemy scouts.

“As you can see, Your Highness,” Edson said, sweeping his hand across the southern portion of the map. “We’re closing in on the provinces. Were we to continue south long enough, it would be a relatively short trip to Denoria.” He tapped a small nation, who shored a border with one of Illandra’s older provinces. “Denoria is-”

“I’m quite familiar,” Kathlyn said.

How many years had it been now since she’d first walked its quiet streets alongside her beloved gryphon? Back then, he’d only just sworn himself to be her protector. He’d had a different lover, all those years ago. Kathlyn winced, glancing away for a moment, regretting anew what Krek’s choose had done to that poor creature. To that family. If they hadn’t wished her harm before, they sure as hell would have now.

“Yes, I suppose you are.” Edson offered her a comforting smile. “Are you alright, Your Majesty?”

“I’m fine.” Kathlyn sighed, a wistful sound. She turned her attention back to the map. “Just old memories. That was where I was when my son was born.” She shook her head, chuckling. “Out of the reach of my family, as though that would somehow make things easier for me.”

Stef quickly refilled her port. “The follies of youth, Your Highness.”

“Indeed.” Kathlyn took a drink, swirling her glass. “My black bird was just down there, you know. Trying to ascertain exactly how serious this whole…” She scowled. “Wind That Carries threat is. That’s where her son lives.” She took another drink, staring at the map. “Denoria, I mean. My bird and the Wind’s son have quite the history together.”

Edson and Stef exchanged a glance. Stef shifted his weight, looking uncomfortable, but remained silent.

Kathlyn gestured at the port bottle. “Feel free to fortify yourself as well, Stef. If you’re worried about hearing things you shouldn’t, don’t be. That’s hardly secret information.”

Edson shrugged. “It’s a little secret.”

The Queen rolled her eyes. “A little secretly is hardly a secret at all.” She took another sip as Stef poured himself a glass. “Anyway, with any luck, Krek will soon be joining us.”

 “I’m sure he will, your majesty.” Edson gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “And with good news, I’m certain.”

Kathlyn appreciated his gesture, and offered him a thankful, if anxious, smile. “That makes one of us, then.”

When they were done with the maps, Kathlyn asked for her advisors to join her. While she’d left most of them behind to help Prince Elvir manage the kingdom, she had asked several of her trusted confidants to accompany her. For an hour or so, they discussed her proposals for Aran’alian’s freedom, adjusted a few specifics in her offers, and tweaked one of the speeches she hoped to give to the true leaders of Aran’alia, away from the nobles ears. Then she listened once again to the information on the men and women she intended to meet with. By the time her journey was at an end, she wished to know everything she could about those she’d be working with. Who they were, who their families were, what roles they played in the province’s governance, whether they had connections to Death in the Night, the nobles, or any other organizations, their strengths, weaknesses, pressure points, likes and dislikes, and so on.

Once her head was too filled with swirling information to continue for the night, Kathlyn retreated to a comfortable chair around a warm fire to finish her port. Edson joined her, and they shared pleasant conversation while the night deepened. A chill set in, though the flames kept it at bay. As they talked, Kathlyn found her gaze drifting to the stars. Out in the deep country, away from the constant glow of lamplight and the shine of lanterns stretched across an entire city, the stars seemed extra vibrant. Some of them twinkled, some shone more brilliantly, and a few almost seemed to wink out before her eyes. Though she knew it was but a trick of the skies and aging eyes, it nevertheless reminded her old memories, and long-forgotten talks with her dearest gryphon.

“Do you know, Edson,” Kathlyn said, gesturing with her glass. “That when I was but a young woman, before I was even queen, the black bird used to talk about broken stars?”

Edson shifted in his chair slightly. “Ma’am?”

Kathlyn shrugged. “Broken stars, Edson. I think he had it in his mind, before he met me, that…” She trailed off. Would Krek want her to have this conversation? After all, he kept his inner thoughts and truest beliefs guarded like state secrets. But then again, if she was to profess her love to Krek, in front of her inner circle, it stood to reason that they may well be privy to this sort of thing. Nonetheless, she’d try to keep to generalizations.  “That we were all born under broken stars.”

Edson took a sip of whiskey. “Meaning what?”

“A lack of fate, of purpose.” Kathlyn tilted her head back, staring at the sky. She almost could have sworn the stars were signaling her with their flickering lights. “As though once, long ago, the stars themselves writ our fates large, across the very cosmos. But the stars were long since broken, and our fates cast away like ashes scattered in the wind.” She scowled, her face darkening in the fire light. “Or perhaps, that our world was broken.” 

“That’s…” Edson worked his glass back and forth between his hands. “Quite the worldview. Almost as dark as your bird’s feathers.”

“It was.” Kathlyn scanned the skies, picking out shapes amongst the stars. “He’d felt…adrift, I think, for his whole life. And assumed we were all adrift. That we existed without purpose or reason. And then…”

“And then he saved you,” Edson said.

“And then someone saved him.” Kathlyn sipped her drink, deciding to leave the details of that to Edson’s imagination. She needn’t share all Krek’s personal secrets. “But in so doing, he gave my gryphon…” She waggled her glass. “Belief, I think. Belief that maybe there was some purpose to life, after all.” Kathlyn chuckled, shaking her head. “In truth, I don’t know that even I believe in that sort of thing. I like to imagine we’re here to make our own purpose. To leave the world better than we found it, if we can. But in Krek’s case…” She took another drink, staring into the flames. Memories of horror, terror, and sorrow unimaginable washed across her. “He found me. And maybe he’s right. Somehow, he was there, at exactly the right time to save my life. To save my son’s life. A little earlier, and we wouldn’t have been attacked yet. A little later, and I’d have been…”

Edson reached out to put a hand upon her arm when she trailed off. “I know, your Majesty. You needn’t say it.”

Kathlyn patted his hand. “Thank you, Edson.” She sighed, and leaned back, staring at the darkened sky once more. “I don’t know what I brought it up. Just looking at the stars reminded me of, I suppose. After he saved me, I think his whole outlook on life, changed. He started to believe that maybe we do have a purpose, after all.” She smiled to herself. “While I don’t know if I believe it, I certainly like the idea. That would mean my purpose was to…” She glanced at Edson. “Well, we both know why we’re on this journey.”

“That we do, Your Highness.” Edson held his glass out with a smile. “To leaving the world better than we found it.”

Kathlyn clinked her glass against his. “Indeed.”

She took a drink, then watched the stars in silence for a few moments. Fatigue soon left Kathlyn’s eyes a little bleary. As she blinked the bleariness away, she could have sworn a few of the stars moved. Once again, she knew it was but a trick of her eyes, and yet, it roused another, half-forgotten memory from the recesses of her mind. Krek’s voice, baffled and awestruck, rang out in my mind.

Kathlyn! Look, look at the stars! They’re moving!

The Queen scowled, glancing over at Edson again. “Edson…?”

“Yes, your highness?” He swirled the last of his whiskey around his glass.

“Do you remember, years ago…” She stared at the night sky, unsure if she should even broach the subject.

Edson drained his whiskey, and set the glass near the bottle. “I remember a lot of things from years ago.” He chuckled, and poured himself a little more, then set the bottle back down.

 Kathlyn pursed her lips, contemplating whether to go on or not. Eventually, she decided just to ask him. “Do you remember, a number of summers ago, when rumors swirled for a little that the stars had…” She gestured with her free hand. “Moved, for lack of a better word?”

“Vaguely.” Edson scratched his forehead. “I do remember a few crazies swearing the saw the sky changing, one night. Something about the stars making new shapes, but only for a few moments. Lunatics, probably, or some cult folk. All drunk out of their minds and imagining things together.”

Kathlyn stared at the sky in silence.

“Your Majesty?” Edson took a sip. “My apologies if I said something wrong.”

“No, it’s just…” Kathlyn swallowed. “Krek saw it, too.”

Edson stiffened. “Your Majesty, I deeply apologize-”

Kathlyn held her hand up, silencing him. “There’s no need for that. I’d have been inclined to agree, had not my black bird seen it himself, in my presence. We were enjoying the night air together, in my garden atop the tower. Krek was staring at the sky, and I was…” She chose her words carefully. “Half-asleep, I’m afraid. When suddenly he called out to me, to look at the skies. By the time I’d woken enough to lift my eyes, they’d already returned to normal. And I had no idea what he was ranting about. Even Krek thought perhaps he’d dreamt it, at first.”

Edson set his jaw. “Until he heard that someone else had seen the same thing, I take it.”

Kathlyn nodded once. “One of his trust contacts, in fact. Who described the phenomenon to him, exactly as Krek himself saw it.”

Edson ran a hand down his face. “That certainly leads credence to…” He took a drink of whiskey, grimacing. “Whatever the hell it might be.”

“So it does.” Kathlyn drained the last of her port, sighing. “Whatever it was, I think that changed something in him, too. But…” She stared into her empty glass, grinning. “I think I’ve had enough to drink for one now. The black bird would probably chastise me, if I knew how openly I’d been speaking about him.”

“Consider my lips sewn shut.” Edson feigned working a stitching needle through his lips.

Kathlyn winced. “Dear lord, but you soldiers have some morbid expressions.” She laughed and pushed herself to her feet. “I think I’m going to turn in for the night. Thank you ever so much for the lovely evening, Edson.”

Edson quickly stood up. “It’s been my pleasure, your highness. Please, allow me to escort you to your quarters.”

“Oh, come now,” Kathlyn said. “I haven’t had that much to drink.” She glowered at Edson, though only playfully. “Yet, I suppose if I refuse, you’ll simply summon Stef to escort me, instead.”

“That I will.” Edson held his arm out. “Shall we?”

Kathlyn took Edson’s arm, and allowed him to walk her back to her tent. By now, the Queen’s tent had its own circle of heavily armed guards protecting it. Additional men stood on either side of the entryway, leaning against sturdy spears. The soldiers saluted as Kathlyn and Edson approached. Kathlyn returned their salute, and thanked them for their tireless efforts. Then she eased away from Edson, and turned to smile at him. 

“Good night, Edson.” The Queen offered him a respectful curtsy.

“Good night, Your Majesty.” Edson made the same salute the soldiers did. “See you far too early in the morning, for another ass-numbing day spent on a carriage seat.”

Kathlyn burst into laughter at her guard’s unexpected obscenity. The soldiers on duty clenched their jaws, trying not to laugh. “Indeed, Edson. See you then.”

The Queen turned away, and entered her grand tent, closing the flaps behind her. Glowing lamps hung from the heavy, reinforced overhead poles that supporting the sturdy, silver and blue material. Flickering lamplight cast everything in wavering shades of ghostly orange. Smoldering incense in decorative copper censers carved with ivy and roses lent the air the delightful aroma of sweet flowers and gentle spice. Thick, soft rugs carpeted the floor.

Kathlyn kicked her shoes off, and made her way through the tent’s front chamber. Another easily disassembled table occupied much of that part of the tent. Chairs were set up all around it. Stacks of documents and important tomes rested on the table, awaiting any business she wished to conduct before they broke camp. Pitchers of water, and bottles of spirits and whine also sat on the table. Kathlyn poured herself a glass of water, and retreated to her sleeping chamber.

Her bed was in the back of the expansive tent, past a set of heavy curtains hung for privacy. Like the other furniture, the Queen’s bed was constructed of multiple sections that were easily slotted together. Soft bedding was piled atop it, from goose-down blankets in sky blue and silver, to luxurious animal furs. At one side, a nightstand held another pitcher of water, more cups, and a few books she’d been reading lately. A small, iron stove stood on the other side of her bed. A few hot coals lay inside it, exuding just enough warmth to take the chill out of the air. Its chimney extended through a flap in the tent.

A small, hammered copper tub also sat nearby. Hot water already filled it. Coils of steam wafted into the air. Somehow, Stef always managed to have a hot bath prepared for her just in time, no matter when it was that she went actually retired for the evening. Kathlyn stripped off her dress and the rest of her clothing, and eased into hot water. She sighed, sinking as deep into it as the undersized camp tub would allow. She bathed and relaxed in the water for as long as its heat would allow. Only when the warmth began to fade did she force herself to rise, step out, and dry off.

The Queen dressed in a comfortable, lilac hued night gown, patterned with little golden flowers. Truthfully, she might have slept in the nude, under other circumstances. Given the situation, she didn’t like the idea of being awoken for a potential emergency, and forced out of bed without any clothes on. If, gods forbid, there was an attack, her guards would likely move her into the refuge chamber of her carriage. As far as Kathlyn was concern, if she was about to die, she’d rather die with at least a little of dignity intact.

Kathlyn turned out all the lamps save one, then climbed into bed, and made herself comfortable. She reached finished her water, and poured herself a new glass. Then she reached for the book she’d just started reading on their journey. The book was titled, Shapes in the Sand. It was an odd tale, about a young urd’thin pup whose father was the chief of some isolated, desert-dwelling tribe. Krek had brought it back for her from his travels a year or so earlier, and she’d only just now taken to reading it. Kathlyn read through a chapter, and then another. The book was growing more and more fascinating, but fatigue demanded she pause her explorations of another world for the night. Kathlyn didn’t mind, as taking her time made it easier to ensure she’d have reading material for the rest of the trip. She set the book aside, turned out the last lamp, and eased down onto her pillows.

Commotion woke the Queen before she even realized she’d fallen asleep. She sat up, squinting, trying to determine what had roused her. Muted light against the gray and blue canvas above her told her the sun was just starting to rise. Somewhere out in the camp, there was shouting. Kathlyn cursed, and swung her legs out of bed. The air was cold, the coals in the stove long gone out. She must have slept longer, and harder than she realized.

Still in her nightgown, the Queen hurriedly fetched some more formal clothing. No one had rushed in to surround her with steel, so whatever was happening, at least it was not yet an emergency. That meant no one would barge without announcing themselves. Kathlyn quickly changed from her nightgown into a golden dress, hemmed with black diamonds. Lacy frills adorned its long sleeves. It was a little more formal than she usually wore for a day’s travel, but if something was happening, she may as well at least resemble a queen, she thought.

Kathlyn hurried to the front portion of the tent. Edson’s voice was audible just outside, talking to the mention stationed around her tent. She raised her voice, calling out. “What’s happening, Edson? Do I need my sword?”

“I don’t think so, your Majesty. However, I’m not entirely sure.” His voice grew louder as he walked towards the entrance flap. “May I come in?”

“Please do.” Kathlyn pulled the flap aside, letting him enter.

“Thank you, Highness.” Edson was dressed in his full armor, again. Though she knew he traveled that way, it still didn’t put her at ease. He stepped into the room, pulling his helmet off. His shaggy, brown hair was heavily tousled beneath it. “I’ll get straight to the point.” He set his helmet down on the table. “We’ve got hold of a suspicious woman.” 

Kathlyn arched a single brow. “Suspicious how?”

“Well, for starters…” Edson ticked off a finger. “She strolled right up to the outer ring of guards, the moment the sun cracked the sky. Just walking down the road, whistling. For another…” He ticked a second finger. “She’s Aran’alian, at least by blood.” Edson shook his head. “Not by accent, though. Could be faking it, but sounds more like she’s from the east, then the west. And for another…” He stuck out a third finger. “She says she’s got a message for you.”

“Does she.” Kathlyn’s voice was flat. A hint of ice trickled into her blood, settling in her belly. “Yet I assume the fact you haven’t yet tossed me into that armored coffin means you don’t think she’s assassin.”

Edson shrugged. “I thought about it, honestly. She could be an assassin, or she could be a decoy to keep us occupied while the real assassins try to sneak in. Hell, she could have a plague and be planning to cough on you.”

Kathlyn swallowed, crossing her arms. “There’s a comforting thought. But again, you haven’t sequestered me, or even surrounded me with soldiers, so-”

Edson held his hand up. “I assure you, Your Majesty, there are plenty of soldiers surrounding you right now. But, there’s one other reason you weren’t tossed into the refuge chamber the moment we spotted her coming. She knows your bird’s call signs.”

Kathlyn’s breath caught in her throat. “She knows what now?”

“The whistles, the sounds, the code phrases.” Edson rubbed his hands together. “Like I said, she was whistling to herself. But as soon as there were arrows pointed at her, and at her throat, she started whistling something different. Bird song. Yanno, the signals. Same ones we’d use to tell an ally from an enemy. The ones your bird left instructions for us to use, in fact.”

Kathlyn’s heart thumped in her chest. What the hell was going on, she wondered. Even if this was legit, the hell would Krek send someone, instead of showing up himself? “Did she know the rest?”

Edson nodded. “She did. Gave us all four of the bird’s code phrases for safe passage, all four confirming her as his messenger, and all five confirming her to be safe to present to you.” He cleared his throat. “We’ve searched her, taken her weapons and belongings, searched her again.”

The Queen paced, her mind racing. “And did she have a message from Krek? Or has she claimed it’s verbal?” She glanced back at Edson. “Because code phrases or not, he wouldn’t expect me to trust a verbal message. It needs his confirmation.”

“Indeed.” Edson held a finger up. “She has something with her. A tiny little box, a black wax seal, with one of the bird’s signets in it. And…” He swirled his finger in the air. “There’s a raven, circling her. Looks like it’s got something tied to its leg. She says that’s for you, too.”

Kathlyn rubbed her forehead. “Shit. He must have gone to Magpie.” She paced again, cursing a few more times. “Shit. Shit! He wouldn’t have gone to her, unless…” She took a deep breath, trying to calm her increasingly frantic nerves. “No, let’s not rush to conclusions. Do you think this woman is safe?”

Edson scowled, rubbing his chin. “All I can offer you is my best assessment, but…” He murmured to himself. “I don’t think she means to harm you. I’m not sure I’d call her safe, exactly, but I think she’s just here to deliver a message from your bird.” He held his hands up. “The call is yours, of course. Either way, she’ll be under heavy guard.”

Kathlyn sighed. “Bring her to me.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Edson put his helmet back on, saluted, and then vanished back outside. Outside, he called orders, his voice soon fading.

Kathlyn paced her tent, struggling to keep her increasingly anxious thoughts under control. She could only imagine a few reasons that Krek would involve the woman named Magpie, and none of them were good. The Queen was not kept waiting long. Soon, the clank and rattle of armored men grew louder, along with a peculiar, slightly off-tune whistling. Edson soon emerged through the tent flap, his face set.

“We have the woman, your highness.” Edson stepped aside, his hand on his sword. “On your word.”

Kathlyn cleared her throat. She took a deep, calming breath, then drew herself up to her full height. Though her heart was a racing, uncaged beast, and her mind a swirling maelstrom of uncertainty, outwardly she was calm. Outwardly, she was strong. She was in control. She Queen Kathlyn the Second of Illandra, the most powerful ruler on the entire content.

When she spoke again, she spoke with measured strength and authority of a monarch. “Bring her in.”

Guards pulled the entry flap aside, then pushed their way in, two by two. Four of them entered before the woman followed. She wore a long, thin, dark coat, with a purple waistcoat over a maroon blouse beneath it. She also had boots that did not look especially travelworn. Kathlyn immediately wondered exactly how she’d gotten here. The Queen immediately pegged her as exactly the sort of woman Krek would work with. Aside from the fact that she was an Aran’alian in a camp full of Illandrans, there was very little remarkable about her at all. She was of average height, with shoulder length black hair. In many parts of the world, she’d have blended right in to any crowd. Which made her a perfect associate for The Black Bird. Or, she thought, something more ominous.

“Are you Death in the Night?” Kathlyn’s eyes bored into the other woman’s, taking her measure. Her words sent every sword-hand to close around a hilt in an instant.

“Nah.” The woman shrugged, casual as could be, as if she hadn’t even noticed the small army of trained soldiers one misspoken word away from drawing steel and running her through. “Those idiots are just gonna make things worse for everyone.” She held her hands up. “Besides, I ain’t much for choosing sides.” The woman stared right back at Kathlyn, her sharp, blue-green eyes unblinking. “Neither is my boss, for that matter. Lucky for you, though…” She flashed Kathlyn a smile. “Your feathery boyfriend’s got other ideas.”

Edson stepped forward, his voice a snarl. “You will not address Her Majesty that way-”

“It’s alright, Edson.” Kathlyn held her hand up. “I’m a big girl, I can handle myself. I may be a queen, but I still know how to slap the teeth out of someone’s mouth if they’ve got it coming.” She stared at the other woman. Kathlyn remained impassive even as the other woman simply smiled at her. “Which, so far, she does not. I understand you have a message for me?”

“I certainly do!” She pointed to the pocket of her long coat. “It’s my right pocket. Okay if I grab it, boys?” She glanced at Edson, then the other guards. Edson nodded, and the woman slowly reached into her pocket. She withdrew a tiny little box, then offered it to Kathlyn. “As you can see, it still features The Black Bird’s seal in wax.”

Kathlyn took the tiny box, inspecting it. It did indeed look like one of Krek’s official seals. The gryphon used a number of signets to convey different things. She recognized this one as one he rarely used, aside from matters of great import usually directed to her. “So it does. I’m told there’s a second message, as well.”

“There is.” The woman tilted her head back the way she’d come. “But I gotta go outside to call Mr. Caws-A-Lot.”

Kathlyn gestured at the tent flap. “Go ahead, then. Edson, go with her.”

Edson took the woman outside, and Kathlyn set the box on the table. She went to the small shelves hastily assembled nearby, and fetched a second, larger box. Gryphons were inscribed across it. Each had a set of tiny levels built into its claws. She sat down at the table, and carefully adjusted the levers until the lockbox clicked open. Kathlyn pulled the top off, revealing tools and equipment designed for decoding Krek’s messages. There were wheels with numbers, letters, symbols, puzzle cubes with arithmetic problems and color patterns, little books with instructions coded in poems, and so on.

Kathlyn pulled a letter opener free, and pried the wax seal loose. Beneath it, the box has a small combination lock. Kathlyn input the combination, based on Krek’s choice of signet. The small box popped open, and inside was a tiny little scroll, sealed with its own wax. She opened it, and laid it out on the table. It contained only a single coded phrase. Kathlyn opened a scratch pad, and selected the appropriate tools to decode the message. She picked up a writing utensil, and then worked her way through the message.

Take her with you.

“Shit!” Kathlyn slapped her hand against the table.

“Uh oh!” The woman returned with Edson just in time to hear Kathlyn curse. A large, black-feathered raven now perched upon her arm. “I hope the gryphon’s not breaking up with you via message. That’s just poor taste.”

Edson slapped her across the back of her head. “Watch your flippancy.”

“Ow!” The woman rubbed her head, glaring at Edson. The crow cawed at him twice. She snorted. “Yeah, you call him, Mr. Caws-A-Lot.”

“I take it that you already know what it says.” Kathlyn glared at the other woman.

“I’ve a vague idea, yeah.” The woman gently undid the miniature scroll case around the raven’s leg. “I bet we’re gonna be best friends.”

Edson glanced between the stranger and the Queen. “Dare I inquire, Your Majesty?”

Kathlyn gave a long, put-upon sigh. “We’re taking her with us.”

Edson grunted, a derisive sound. “Of course we are.” He slowly turned his eyes back to the strange woman. “In that case, she had better start minding her manners around Her Majesty.”

“Oh, don’t worry about.” The woman pulled the scroll case free, then set it on the table in front of Kathlyn. “I got plenty of experience dealing with monarchs.”

Kathlyn rolled her eyes, pulling the case closer. “I’m sure you do.” She inspected the tiny case carefully, attuned for any signs of tampering or other issues.

“As you can see,” the stranger said. “It hasn’t been damaged. It bears The Black Bird’s personal signet, his signature wax, was delivered upon the foot of a crow-”

“Raven,” Kathlyn said, not looking up. “Crows are smaller. Magpie prefers ravens to crows.”

A smile crept across the other woman’s face, and into her voice. “You know your birds. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, considering you’re-”

“Careful.” Edson’s voice was a dagger, poised at her throat.

“What’s your name?” Kathlyn pried the wax free, then worked the scroll case open. She unraveled the folded parchment within, spreading it out across the table. This message contained several lines.

The stranger was quiet for a moment, her smile fading. She stroked the raven’s feathers a few times, likely considering whether or not to divulge that information. Finally, she smiled again. “You may as well call me Ailsa.”

“So be it, Ailsa.” Kathlyn selected a new set of tools, and began working through the message. “Do you know what this one will say, as well?”

Ailsa shook her head. “Not specifically. But I’m guessing it’ll include a destination.”

Edson glowered at her. “We already have a destination.”

Kathlyn hurried through the message, her heart racing. If Ailsa thought Krek would include some kind of destination, that could only mean one thing. Long before the gryphon ever left to meet with Valar, and the Wind, he had given Kathlyn a specific phrase, to be used only in the most dire of circumstances. It indicated a situation that was growing so out of hand, not even Krek believed he could stop it. Now, to her great, terrifying dismay, that was exactly what the first line said.

This is over.

That was it, then. The gryphon had determined The Wind That Carries herself was coming to slay Kathlyn. No more was it rumor, or fear, or hearsay, but actual determined truth. If she continued her journey, they would come face to face with the furious wrath of the most dangerous known dragon in all the world.

Kathlyn took a slow, shaking breath. “She’s coming for me. He’s certain, now.” 

“Fuck.” Edson turned away, his face twisting up. They had all held out hope that perhaps, the worst would not come to pass. “We need to be prepared. Perhaps take a route she won’t expect, slip away while her gaze is elsewhere.”

Kathlyn spared him a glance. “Isn’t that what we’re already doing?”

Edson clenched his jaw. “Let me see what else we can do. There are other, smaller, hard to follow routes. We could shed some weight. A lighter convoy would move faster, but it would also leave you with less protection.”

Kathlyn held her hand up, silencing him. “We all knew this might happen, if I undertook this journey.” She took another deep breath. “And we undertook it anyway, because we know important this is. The only thing that’s changed is our certainty of what awaits. We need to prepare.”

In actuality, it meant more than that. ‘This is over’ was a phrase that indicated immediate and extreme peril, but it meant something else, too. In the literal sense, it meant Krek was likely to try and put himself between Kathlyn and the completion of her journey, for her own sake. Kathlyn would be damned before she’d let him stop her, but she was not foolish enough to truly believe she could keep the bird from doing whatever he’d set his mind too. Kathlyn hurried to decrypt the rest of the message. Bit by bit, word by word, the rest of it became heartbreakingly clear.

This is over.

Let me keep my promise.

Let me protect you.

Where even the sunflowers weep.

With shaking hands, and tears in her eyes, Kathlyn set the message down. That was the last place she ever wanted to go. But she would not deny her gryphon’s desperate request.

“What…” Edson stepped closer, his voice soft. “What is it, Your Highness? What does it say?”

Kathlyn swallowed at the sudden lump in her throat. She pushed herself to her feet, quickly packing away her tools. “Prepare to leave at once, Edson. We have to make a detour.”