The Forgotten Sisters (25 page)

“See?” said Sus. “First he struck Miri, and now he was about to strike me just for making a valid observation.
Bullies
.”

“Kaspar,” said the high commander. “I must insist—”

“In Danland not even the head of the army can call the king by his first name,” said Astrid. “Shouldn't he call you King Kaspar at least?”

Kaspar frowned at the high commander. “They used to call my father ‘Your Grace.'”

The high commander's mouth twitched. “Your Grace—”

“Wait a moment,” Sus interrupted, a fist on her hip as she looked at Kaspar. “You're the one who started this war! But that doesn't make sense.”

Kaspar's face turned red. “Why, because I'm
little
?”

“No,” said Sus, as if she thought that a very stupid question. “Because you seem too smart.”

Kaspar scowled at her, trying to figure out the insult.

“Take these girls back downstairs,” ordered the high commander.

“Just a conversation,” said Felissa again. “Just words.”

The soldier holding Sus began to drag her toward the door as she shouted back, “Kaspar, don't let them turn you into another Halffer the Gullible!”

Miri smiled.

Kaspar's eyes widened. “Wait!” he said.

The soldier stopped.

Miri had read the girls the story of Halffer from
The History of Stora
, about a king who let his greedy advisers manipulate him and the kingdom into ruin.

Kaspar scowled. “I'm
not
gullible.”

“Maybe the commanders wanted to invade Danland in order to advance their military careers,” said Sus, “and when your father died, they decided to use you as a puppet king.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” said Kaspar.

“It's all right,” said Sus. “We only just found out that our mother and father are the king and queen of Danland but sent us away as babies because apparently princesses are too dangerous to have around.”

“Oh,” said Kaspar. “I'm sorry.”

Sus shrugged. “It doesn't matter. I am sorry about your father, though, since you were old enough to remember him and all.”

Kaspar shrugged a nearly identical shrug. “I grew up in the country and didn't see him all that often. He was supposed to live to be one hundred. He always swore he would.”

“What's his honorific?” Sus asked. Storan kings received honorific titles after their death.

“Fader the Fruitful, because he had so many children,” Kaspar said, and then whispered, “It's kind of a boring one.”

“Would you prefer something like Kaspar the Bloody?” said Sus. “You don't seem to care if people die or if I lost my home because war is
so
much more exciting than being fruitful.”

Kaspar's chin trembled. “War can be beneficial! A passage to the sea is vital for any country, and while we had access to the Northern Sea, sailing around to the channel to trade was dangerous and expensive. Now with the Eris harbor, Stora will thrive!”

Sus opened her mouth as if to argue but then nodded. “Good point. I can see why owning a harbor on the channel would be a vital achievement for your kingdom.”

Kaspar blinked, surprised by her turnaround. “Thank you,” he said.

“But have you considered Endwil's writings in
Commerce and the Channel Divide?
”

“I've never heard of that book,” said Kaspar.

“I bet there's a copy in this castle's library,” Sus said.

High Commander Paldus groaned with impatience and ordered the soldiers again to take the girls away. Miri stumbled to her feet before a soldier could yank her there against her will. Her collarbone felt as if it were
breaking anew, the pain gagging her. Her forehead was cold with sweat.

Someone needed to do something now or they would be shut up in the dungeon, used as bait to lure King Bjorn and Steffan and Peder out of their hiding place and into an execution.

Please
, Miri thought, almost singing it, the thought swinging between quarry-speech and prayer.

Astrid elbowed her soldier in the gut.

Felissa cried out.

Britta said, “Don't do this.”

And Sus, her feet dragging beneath her as her soldier half carried her toward the door, announced, “You know, Kaspar, I think we should get married.”

Kaspar gaped. Voices of disgust and even amusement boiled around the room. Miri's arms prickled with chills.

Sus hooked her foot around the door frame, and her soldier hesitated, not prepared to wrench this little girl, who was in pleasant conversation with the king.

“Well, I am a princess of Danland,” said Sus. “And marrying me makes a lot more sense than killing Danland's royalty and creating unrest in a neighboring kingdom, doesn't it? Especially since there's no longer any honor in this war by Storan standards. Our kingdoms would share resources and knowledge and trade routes,
without having to destroy those resources and knowledge and trade routes through war. Before he died, your father did agree to a political marriage with one of us.
He
thought it made sense. Besides, I think you and I would be well matched. I like you.”

“Oh,” Kaspar said. His face turned red.

“You don't need to be embarrassed by mutual attraction,” said Sus. “It's a natural emotion. I've read about it. Or my friend Miri told me about books that talked about it. She's the one your commander was trying to beat up. Anyway, we should be betrothed for now, like Miri and Peder are going to be, and then wait to get married till we're older.”

Kaspar just stared.

“Sus,” Felissa said. “Maybe Kaspar needs—”

“I don't need to think it over,” said Kaspar. “Historically, royal betrothals often happen without the couple even meeting.”

“Exactly,” said Sus.

“Your Grace,” said the high commander. “You don't know what you're—”

“Enough,” said Kaspar. “Princess Susanna has made an excellent argument. I think it's more logical and interesting than the war. The outcome will be better for everyone, and then we'll have time to go caiman hunting.”

“Good.” Sus smiled. “I'm so glad I bumped into you.”

“And I'm glad I didn't stab you,” he said.

Sus laughed.

“I think she might be really, really smart,” Miri said to the girls.

“He's not bad either,” Astrid muttered.

“I know what I'd like from you for my wedding gift,” said Sus.

“Sus!” Felissa laughed now.

“If my sister is marrying your king,” Astrid said to her soldier, “why are you still gripping me like a prisoner?”

“Oh sorry,” said Kaspar. “Let her go, all right? And those other girls too.”

The soldier with Sus looked at the high commander, who shook his head.

“I am your king!” Kaspar said, his voice straining to be low and thunderous, perhaps in imitation of his father's manner.

The soldiers let go.

“Anyway,” said Sus, rubbing her wrists, “I'd like a small house made of linder, like the one my sisters and I had in Lesser Alva. I can sense people's emotions inside linder walls, you know, so it would make a very useful queen's receiving room. Anyway, I bet you'll enjoy bagging a caiman. It's dangerous and exciting—like a war maybe—but much more fun, and ends with meat roasting.”

Kaspar's eyes lit up. “We'll go hunting all the time.”

“Oh good!” she said. “Before we get married, I'd like to study for a few years and learn as much as I can about being a queen. I don't like making mistakes.”

“I didn't tattle,” said Kaspar.

“I knew you wouldn't,” said Sus. They smiled at each other.

High Commander Paldus crouched to meet Kaspar's eyes. “Your Grace, I'm afraid these girls are tricking you. Let me escort you back to your apartment, and I'll take care of everything.”

“Seems to me the two of them have everything already taken care of,” said Astrid.

“Yes,” said the young king. “Princess Susanna and I have had enough war this year. I'd much rather go caiman hunting. But first I want to show her the library.”

“The library!” said Sus.

Kaspar took her hand and they ran off. High Commander Paldus stood up and stared at the door long after they had disappeared. Commander Mongus sat heavily in a chair. His back was to Miri, but this time, his shoulders slumped.

Felissa helped Miri take a seat. Miri breathed hard through her teeth to keep from crying out with the pain. Britta rushed forward, but Miri waved her off.

“I'll be fine. Worry about me later.”

Britta nodded and schooled her face. She curtsied again to the high commander, and her smile was kind, nonjudgmental, and open.

“High Commander Paldus, why don't we take a seat and write up the peace treaty? Lady Miri, Princess Astrid, and Princess Felissa will advise me. We should have something to offer King Bjorn by nightfall, and by tomorrow, your men will be on their way back to their homes and families. I'm sure there will be rejoicing all over both our kingdoms.”

High Commander Paldus blinked and turned to Britta. He seemed as stunned as a struck fish.

“There was no honor in this war,” Britta said kindly. “It is time for an ending.”

When the high commander spoke, Miri was expecting a protestation, but instead he said, “I've eaten fresh caiman. Delicious.”

Astrid sat beside him at the table and before speaking of the treaty, they exchanged hunting stories. Once or twice, the high commander smiled.

We were at once both two and one

My tiny son, my tiny son

Our hearts beat in conversation

Nestled in me like a seed pearl

My tiny girl, my tiny girl

When I spin, you also twirl

Two days later, Miri returned to the palace of stone.

Miri had waited until Britta, with advice from Master Filippus, had drawn up an official peace treaty and both King Kaspar and High Commander Paldus had signed it before revealing where Danland's royal family might be hiding.

“Oh, I'm glad
you
knew,” said Britta. “I couldn't even guess!”

Sus and Kaspar said farewell for now by engaging in a quick sword fight with broomsticks, and the girls climbed into a carriage. They crossed the bridge and drove to Gus's workshop.

At the sound of Miri's voice, Peder ran out, straw sticking in his curly hair, followed by the king, queen, and Steffan. Gus, the master stone carver—who was now Gus the Royal Stone Carver—exercised his long-neglected face muscles to allow a small expression of relief.

Peder started to embrace Miri but she shook her head. He exclaimed over her arm in a sling. She contented herself by standing near him, laying her head on his shoulder.

“You heard me,” Miri muttered against Peder's neck.

“Of course,” he said, raising a cautious hand to her back, as if afraid to hurt her. “Though it was kind of sweet how you kept repeating yourself over and over, just in case.”

“Miri,” said King Bjorn. “When dramatic events happen, you often seem to be around.”

He smiled at her, his beard bushing out more.

“It was our pleasure to save your life, Your Highness,” she said with a smile.

The king laughed. But the laugh quickly faded when he climbed into the carriage and saw his three daughters. He sat stiffly, his face bright red. The queen seemed to draw into herself, as if trying not to take up any room on the bench.

Miri and Peder squeezed in with the girls, opposite
the king, queen, and prince. Silence rode with them, covered up by the clomp and grate of horse hooves and carriage wheels.

“My, what a lovely day,” Miri said with exaggerated brightness, and Peder poked her side.

The army was no longer camped on The Green and Commoner Park, the majority already loading into ships to sail back to the Eris harbor. The Storans had blown four great holes in the palace wall, but the carriage rolled around to the front gate as if that were still the only entrance to the courtyard.

By noon meal, Miri was sitting with the girls in the queen's receiving chamber, a fire in the hearth, a plate of hot, sliced meat and bread on the table before them. She could almost sense the rents in the palace walls outside but the fire lulled her with its familiar crackle and promise of warmth and safety.

The queen sat in a chair in the corner, staring at an open book, though Miri noticed her eyes did not scan the pages.

“It was easier to hate her in the carriage than in the linder palace,” Astrid whispered. “I can feel her sadness like it's shooting out of her on steel-tipped arrows.”

Felissa nodded.

Miri's subtle skill with linder-wisdom was squashed
by the ache in her jaw and shoulder. She could no longer feel the queen's pain above her own.

“She should have fought harder,” Astrid whispered. “She should have visited us. She shouldn't have just given up.”

Felissa nodded again. “But—”

The door opened. Miri expected to see Peder or else Katar checking in after the Storans released her with the other palace prisoners. But it was the chief delegate, his small beard pointing into the room.

“Miri Larendaughter, a moment, if you'd be so kind,” he said.

She went to the door. He pulled her out and shut it behind her. The suddenness of the action caught her breath, and her mending collarbone shrieked with pain.

“You are a troublemaker,” said the chief delegate. He talked close to her face, his eyes wild. “Kingdom shaker, crown breaker. Don't you dare claim victory here. King Bjorn had the daughters, King Bjorn offered one as a bride. Your involvement is meaningless.”

“What?” said Miri. “Why are you—”

“I will see to it you do not fool the king into signing over the treasures of Mount Eskel. And I will rid the palace of your contagion. You will not cast doubts on the honest decisions of the past.”