The Dark Throne (42 page)

“I know you don’t. It just feels good to be able to say it aloud. I trust my Three, but they still see me as the Queen.”

“I see you as the Queen.”

“You
crowned
me. It’s like you were the midwife at my birth or something. You have some perspective.”

I chuckled a little. “Me, a midwife. Now that’s a metaphor I haven’t heard.”

“You know what I mean.” Vell leaned back on her hands. “It just takes getting used to, all this bowing and scraping….which happens no matter what I think of it. And seeing the fear in their eyes.” She shook her head, silencing my protest. “Don’t deny it, Tess. If you looked hard enough, you’d see it when they look at you too. They know we’re on their side, fighting with them, but there’s fear. Mixed with love, for some, but it’s still there.”

“We can’t really do much about it.” I paused thoughtfully. “Except show them that we’re always going to fight with them. Fight
for
them.”

“I know.” Vell smiled a little, tilting her head. “Are you sure you want to go? With the vanguard, I mean.” She swallowed. “I could use you here.”

I realized that I was perhaps the one true confidant left to Vell as the High Queen. Pressing down my growing disappointment, I said carefully, “If you need me here, I’ll stay.”

Vell pressed her lips together, golden eyes downcast. “No. I don’t
need
you, truth be told. I’m just being selfish.” She gave a little laugh. “Everyone so
serious
around me, I might go crazy by the time you get back.”

“Well, maybe you just need to trust someone else a bit more? I know that’s a tall order.” I thought for a moment. “What about Merrick? You’ve known him longer than anyone else who’s staying here, and I’d bet my life on his dependability.”

“Trusting is hard for me,” Vell replied softly. Then she smiled wryly and looked at me. “But you’re right, Tess. I can’t survive being Queen in total isolation, and I can’t keep you here in a little golden cage next to me.”

“You of all people would never put anyone in a cage, golden or otherwise,” I said.

“So if you’re going, do me one favor?”

“Name it.”

“Travel with the northern vanguard. Finnead has Calliea as his wing commander, and not that I don’t trust Niamh, but I’d rest a bit easier knowing that Luca has you as well.”

“What about Elwyn and the southern vanguard? She’ll have Maire,” I pointed out.

“Elwyn is one of the Firstscore, and the southern vanguard will also be traveling a less perilous route, as relative as that is these days.”

I swallowed against the maelstrom of emotion suddenly waging war in my chest: disappointment at not being able to travel with Finnead, excitement that I would be able to continue my fighting lessons with Luca, and guilt at that excitement.

Vell touched my shoulder. “I know you love Finnead, and I wouldn’t ask this of you…but I have this
feeling
.”

That got my attention. “A feeling like a vision?”

“Nothing so specific as that, but something like a premonition.” Vell frowned, trying to find the words to describe it. “I think something is going to befall the northern vanguard, and it might seem like I should keep you out of harm’s way…but this feeling tells me that you’ll be able to help them, whatever it is.”

“Have you told Luca?”

Vell shook her head. “It’s too vague.”

“He trusts you with his life. We all do,” I said, almost gently. “I’m not saying you
need
to tell him, but I’m sure he would appreciate it.”

“I don’t want him to think that I’m callously sending him to his death. Which I might be doing anyway,” Vell said bleakly. When she looked at me, there was something like fear in her eyes. “Don’t be angry with me, Tess. Please. I can’t explain it. If I knew what was going to happen, I could maybe help more, but…” She trailed into silence, shaking her head.

“Even if you knew what was going to happen, what’s to say you could change it?” I leaned forward, hesitating for just a moment, but then I gathered Vell’s head onto my shoulder, embracing her. She shuddered and leaned her forehead against my neck. We sat like that for a while, one of my hands tracing comforting circles on her back. Finally Vell sat back and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes.

“Stupid,” she muttered as she regained her composure.

“You have feelings too, even if you are the High Queen,” I told her with a little smile.

She grinned at me. “When did you grow up to be so all-knowing, Tess?”

I snorted. “All-knowing? Hardly. If I was all-knowing, I could sort out all my own emotions, too, and you see how
that
goes on a daily basis.”

“Practicing fighting with Luca, practicing kissing with Finnead,” Vell said with a little smile.

“I love Finnead,” I said. “I just hope he’s truly healed enough from his past to love me the way he says he does.” I stopped, wide-eyed at my own words.

“His scars are deep, but from what I can tell, they’re just scars, not wounds.” Vell sat back on her hands again. “Only time will tell, though. War either ignites love or snuffs it out, nothing between from what I’ve seen.”

I blinked. “And this experience is from war in the North?”

She shook her head. “Not a tale for now. It’s already hard enough for me to send the vanguards out.”

“Fair enough.” My stomach rumbled, reminding me that we’d skipped evening meal in the intensity of the planning meeting. I stood and Vell followed suit. “Care to join me for dinner? Or I can bring food back here, if you’d like.”

“You’re not my servant,” Vell said. “So we’ll go get food together…and bring it back here.”

I laughed. “Good compromise. Let’s go then.”

And before we stepped outside her tent, Vell and I once again became the High Queen and the Bearer of the Iron Sword, because that was what the warriors fighting against the shadow needed us to be.

Chapter 22

T
he next day passed in a whirl of activity. I rose with Calliea before dawn, and she didn’t take her shift in the healing ward. We both walked to the practice fields. A light mist wreathed the ground, rendering the scene surreal in the morning twilight: the Valkyrie standing with their winged
faehal,
checking their weapons and their saddles; the vanguard warriors stood apart in their own small groups. Calliea went to the Valkyrie, conferencing with Maire and Niamh. Soon after, the Valkyrie mounted their winged steeds and took to the sky, wheeling above the practice fields in arrow formations, diving and shooting arrows at targets they’d placed beyond the archery line and practice rings. I watched in fascination. As the sky lightened further, I saw several Glasidhe join the Valkyrie. I wondered how long the
faehal
could sustain flight—whether they’d fly for the majority of the journey ahead, or travel by ground and launch into the sky at the sign of an airborne threat.

As the vanguard warriors began dividing into their groups, I spied Luca and Finnead. Elwyn gave me a nod as she strode past, toward her vanguard. I felt strangely nervous as I neared the two men.

“Good morning, Tess,” Finnead said. “Ready for a full day of drills?”

“Of course.” I smiled and then swallowed. Why did this feel like a betrayal? “I’m going to travel with the northern vanguard, so I’ll be drilling with them.”

Something flickered in Finnead’s drowning-blue eyes but then it was gone. Even though I’d gotten better at reading Sidhe expressions, sometimes I still couldn’t catch the fleeting emotions that passed over his face, gleaming for an instant before being hidden by his well-practiced mask. “I thought the Queen might ask you to travel north.” He nodded. “It balances the vanguards well.”

I found it hard to meet his eyes. “I just wanted to let you know.”

He nodded and then strode over to the warriors who comprised the western vanguard. I followed Luca toward the third group, running my eyes over them. A few looked familiar as members of the Firstscore.

“The Bearer will be traveling with us,” said Luca to his warriors, and though they kept their composure admirably, I couldn’t miss the brightening of eyes and straightening of shoulders. I glanced at Luca and he nodded slightly.

“I’m the Bearer, but I’m not the captain of this vanguard,” I said. “Since we’ll be scouting together as members of the company and, gods willing, fighting together, call me Tess.”
That
got a bit more of a reaction: raised eyebrows and murmurs, some warriors shifting uncomfortably. “If you find the familiarity offensive,” I said, raising my voice to cut over the swelling undercurrent of whispered words, “then choose not to talk to me at all.” The murmuring stopped as suddenly as if cut by a knife. For a long moment, the vanguard stared at me, and then one bold young warrior grinned. An answering smile formed on my lips.

“I, for one, appreciate your humility, Tess,” the cocksure youth said, emphasizing my name.

I chuckled. “We’ll see how that humility holds in the practice ring.”

A few other grins glimmered among the gathered warriors, and seamlessly we turned our attention back to Luca.

“Pair up,” the big
ulfdrengr
said tersely. “One on one sparring for the next half hour, and then switch partners. Robin.”

The youth who’d spoken with such swagger a moment before saluted Luca jauntily. “Yes, my captain?”

Luca had to hide a grin. “You’re partnered with Tess. Try to keep up.”

Robin bowed slightly to me. I sized him up as we headed to a practice ring. We were evenly matched in height, but Robin held a bit more muscle on his frame than me. I rubbed my thumbs over the lacy scar tissue on my palms.

“Bugger me, but you smile just like
they
do,” he said as he rolled up his shirtsleeves. His hair gleamed red, a tone between the deep robust color of a robin’s breast and the gold of ripened wheat. “Meaning the wolf warriors, and no disrespect, of course.”

“Of course.” I let my grin linger for a moment more, and then asked as we stretched, “Were you named for your hair?”

“Not many know of robins, since we don’t have them in our world,” replied the Seelie warrior. “But my mother traveled to Doendhtalam in her younger years, and she did indeed name me for the bird with the red breast.”

“Harbinger of spring,” I said, almost to myself. Robin wore his hair longer than most Seelie men, tousled into what I would have called a mohawk if he’d been a college student in my old life. I drew my sword and warmed up my arm, practicing only with my right hand. I watched Robin out of the corner of my eye as he ran through a few drills. With his build, he was probably just as quick as me; I suspected that Luca had paired him with me not only as recompense for his cheekiness, but as a challenge to my skills. “Challenge accepted,” I murmured to myself.

“What was that, Tess?” called out Robin, his sword arcing gracefully through the air.

“Ready?” I asked, facing him and settling my blade in my hand. My skin prickled with anticipation.

“Oh, yes,” he grinned, and we were off.

Luca signaled the end of the half hour with a sharp whistle. Robin and I stepped back from each other, sweat-drenched, panting and grinning in satisfaction. We’d both gained two touches on the other: Robin had proven his quickness and slipped his blade through my guard to press delicately against my breastbone, and I’d responded in the next match by sending his sword flying across the ring in an echo of the move that Luca had used on me the previous day. And we had both felt the sharp edge of the other’s sword laid broad against the side of our neck.

“You weren’t holding back, were you?” I asked him with narrowed eyes as I wiped the sweat from my face with my sleeve.

“Lovely Tess, if I had been holding back, you would have gutted me both literally and figuratively,” Robin replied with a wink, taking a drink from his water-skin.

“Do you have a cousin in the Unseelie Court?” I thought of the coppery glint in Ramel’s hair, and his penchant for fond flattery.

Robin laughed. “No. Not that I know, at least.” He shrugged. “But it’s entirely possible, either way. Why do you ask?”

“You remind me of someone,” I said, taking a swig of my own water. “He’s one of Mab’s Three now.”

“I shall take that as a compliment, then,” replied the young Seelie, toasting me with his canteen.

Luca strode over to our practice ring. “Two things you learned about the other fighter during this session.” He nodded at Robin.

Robin studied me and took another swallow of water before answering. “While she was taught traditional Unseelie swordsmanship, Tess has taken a bit of the style of everyone she’s ever seen fight and wrapped it into her own. She’s adaptive.” He paused. “And she didn’t learn with her right hand originally.” He smiled at my look of surprise. “You invert some patterns when you’re tired, which suggests that you first learned them with your left hand.”

Luca nodded and turned to me. “Tess?”

“Robin is quick, but that’s expected for his size. He doesn’t put his whole strength into his strokes, making his opponent believe that speed is his only talent, but he’s very strong as well. He just uses it in short bursts at critical moments.” I considered the young Seelie. “And he likes to fight pretty. He favors some embellishments to make his strokes look graceful, things like that.”

Robin merely smiled at my critique. “You only live once, so why not be beautiful?”

Suddenly Luca had his blade in his hand, and I stepped back as he leapt forward with terrifying speed, launching a dizzying attack on the hapless Robin. The young Seelie fighter countered the
ulfdrengr
’s vicious blows for longer than I expected, but after a few moments Luca knocked his blade from his hand and Robin fell hard to the ground. Luca laid the tip of his broad blade against Robin’s throat and growled, “Beauty is secondary. Skill and strength keep you from getting killed.”

I almost moved forward to separate them, but then Luca reached down and hauled Robin to his feet, giving him a brotherly slap on the back that conveyed both forgiveness for Robin’s remark and encouragement after his defeat. He gripped Robin’s shoulder and said to the smaller fighter, “You’ve got heart and you have skill. Don’t trip over your own feet trying to look pretty for the lasses. I intend to bring every warrior who rides out with me back to this camp.”