QueensQuest (9 page)

Once the major decisions had been made, planning the Royal
Progress moved swiftly. We set out before second moonrise two weeks later, Lady
Mercourie having handled arrangements with admirable efficiency. The Royal
Progress consisted of the three retinues, with the horses of Shadow leading the
procession. My soldiers were dressed in our bright livery, red with black trim,
and my retinue in vivid colors that defied the constant gray of my lands.

At the head of the Progress, I rode my favorite palomino
mare, her mane woven with red-and-black streamers, her tail braided also. To
honor Mercourie and her efforts, she rode by my side, and I welcomed the
opportunity to deepen my relationship with this clever, talented woman.
Watching her manage the myriad details of the Progress, sending messengers
hither and yon, had been a lesson in organization.

The graceful horses ridden by the DesertDwellers followed
us, with the Children of Light, arrayed in their white, flowing robes making a
grand display as they rode their prancing steeds. Darkness’ taqqa formed our
rearguard. Depending upon the weather, the beasts’ ponderous hooves and great
weight kicked up clods of mud or clouds of dust, and no one wished to ride
behind them despite the magnificence of Storne’s knights, clad in polished
armor. The somber standards bearing the silver sigil of oak and firemountain
floated above their part of the procession.

Parlous, seemingly invigorated by the Progress, rode up and
down the procession accompanied by outriders. Coaches, Storne’s taqqa, and
carts carried tents and provisions, for although the Shadowlands were the most
populous area of Janus, that term was still relative. In comparison to Old
Terra, our realm is empty, with many leagues separating villages, towns and
castles. We could not depend upon reaching a convenient inn or mansion every
nightfall. Moreover, our numbers were too great to be accommodated in the
average manor.

So we camped. Again, a relative statement. My tent was large
enough to fit my high platform bed, a smaller cot where Maia rested, and
pallets for my guards—usually Rall and Parron. My apparel had been minimized,
but still, the tent held the chests and portmanteaux needed to carry various
gowns and riding gear. The Queen of Shadow’s appearance was important, as
Storne had astutely noted.

Every morning when I awoke, I stepped onto rugs of woven
silk and donned my usual yellow robe. As I breakfasted, I gazed at tapestries
draped over the walls of my tent before I bathed and dressed in a riding habit.
A smaller, portable version of the Golden Throne sat outside beneath an awning,
for in every village, I stopped to greet my people, to provide counsel or
render judgment. I gave whatever they required of me.

We traveled in this manner for a week, until we reached the
mountains guarding my southern keep. The passes through these sharp, granite
peaks are steep and the highest slopes are dusted with snow at all times. The
procession slowed, the taqqa ponderous and the horses picking their way with
care along treacherous mountain paths that overlooked narrow iron-gray lakes
tucked into the canyons that lay between the ridges. Spiny-needled evergreen
trees lined the route, their bright scent perfuming the thin, crisp air.

Storne met me outside my tent one evening after I had bathed.
He cast an amused eye on my attire, a quilted robe and furry slippers. “You are
casual, my queen.”

He wore his blue velvet doublet, a garment I especially
liked. I smiled at him. “This is akin to the week-long trips my family would
take when we stayed at our southern manor,” I said. “We were less formal when
we lived in tents.”

A campfire crackled a few feet from the open draperies of my
tent. Parron tossed a pine cone onto it, and the flames jumped.

Storne peeked inside the tent, his glance taking in the
chests and tapestries. “Yes, I can see you have truly pared down to the
essentials.”

I giggled. “May I offer you a cup of mulled wine?”

“Gladly, although I am enjoying the brisk air here. It is
more like home to me.”

“You have not been away from the Darkside for long, yet you
sound as though you miss it greatly.” I led him into my tent and nodded to Maia,
who poured for us.

“I do. I miss the stars.”

“Yes, I have heard of them. I am told that after third
moonset, they look like a thousand tiny diamonds glittering against the pure
blackness of your sky.”

Maia handed us our cups and then stepped outside to untie
the cords that kept the tent flaps open. They dropped together, leaving us alone.
I heard footsteps outside crunch on dry branches. Rall and Parron, no doubt,
taking their posts, protecting me. A brazier in one corner warmed the tent’s
interior, which still smelled pleasantly of my gardenia-scented cologne.

Storne leaned toward me, eagerness vibrating from every line
of his body. “I long to show you our realm, Audryn. I am sure you would love it
as much as do we.”

“It does sound extraordinary.” I touched my cup to his. “To
many happy journeys.”

“Happy journeys together.”

We sipped wine, looking into each other’s eyes. Wonderful
how his cool gray eyes could light with fervor when he spoke of his home.

He set down his cup and kissed me. His mouth tasted like the
mulling spices Maia had used. And warm, too… I ardently sucked his tongue, licked
his lips. What was it about Storne? Yes, I liked sex, but I couldn’t get enough
of this man.

I reminded myself to stay in control. I did not wish to be
hasty. I knew that Kaldir could satisfy me also, and there was still more
information and advantage for the Shadowlands to be won by keeping both
Darkside and Light uncertain of my heart.

In the meantime, nothing stopped me from setting down my
wine and sliding my hands into Storne’s hair, fingering the strands while we
kissed. His tongue probed and thrust into my mouth, tasting me as thoroughly as
I savored him.

His hand dropped to the gap in my robe to search the valley
between my unbound breasts. His fingers, a little rough from the days of
riding, stroked my sternum, finding the chain that held the ruby Kaldir had
given me. “I am not sure I like you wearing this jewel.”

I pressed my lips together to hide a smug grin. Playing my
suitors against each other pleased me greatly. I told myself that this was
politics, not ego, while disbelieving my own thoughts, for I could not help
enjoying my rivals’ jealousy. I said, “You well know that it is diplomatic for
me to do so.”

“Ride with me tomorrow.”

I hesitated. “I have never mounted a taqqa. They are large
beasts—what if I can’t control mine?” I had seen taqqa trample unskilled riders
beneath their great hooves.

“You’ll be with me, on my steed. You’ll be fine.”

* * * * *

Early the next morning, prior to first moonrise, I was
awakened by voices outside my tent.

“How does the queen abide?” Storne asked.

“She has been alone except for her handmaiden Maia since you
left, my lord.” Parron, sounding unusually respectful.

My interest and temper were piqued. Parron was supposed to
be my man, all the way. Why was he reporting to Storne?

Branches crunched beneath booted heels as I heard both men
stride across the clearing. I heard the jingle of spurs. Storne’s, I was sure.
No spurs are needed with our horses, but taqqa have thick hides and the
Darksiders wear spurs.

“The wind is mild, the weather fair,” Storne said. “The queen
shall ride with me today.”

I sat up in bed, furious. How dare he?

Then I remembered that I had already agreed to this plan.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Parron said. The heavy flaps securing
my tent rustled as they were drawn apart.

A moment later, Maia entered. “Lord Storne seeks audience.”

“So I hear.” My tone must have been sharper than usual, for
she cast a narrow glance at me. I ignored it, but when Storne entered, I
barked, “Explain yourself.”

His gaze held mild interest. “What do you mean?”

“Parron is my guard, not yours. Why does he now report to
you?”

“Perhaps he sees which way the wind is blowing.” Storne sat
on my bed. His chainmail jerkin rang softly.

Not good enough,
I thought. “As far as Parron is
concerned, the wind blows from whatever direction I say it does.”

“Fear not. Parron loves you. He would give his life for you.
He merely anticipates your needs, as a good retainer must.”

“My needs?” I was rigid with fear and fury. I would not be
chased into any decision, not by Storne, Parron, Maia or even my own desires.

“Parron’s a soldier. He’s looking at the situation as a
soldier must. As you should.”

I bridled. “How do you know what I must do?”

“Simple military analysis.”

“Nothing about statecraft is simple. Why should I endure a
snake in my nest?”

“Neither Parron nor I are snakes, but even if we were, it
wouldn’t matter. A great sage of old Terra put it best. He said, ‘I’d rather
have my enemies inside the tent pissing out rather than outside my tent pissing
in’.”

I chuckled despite my bad temper. “Who said that?”

“An American emperor named Landon Johnton.”

“Landon Johnton?”

“Yes. He created many clever rules of statecraft.”

“Like what?”

“A leader’s greatest task is not to do what is right but to
know what is right.”

I frowned and Storne reached out a gentle hand to smooth the
furrow between my brows. Nevertheless I said, “I do not agree. Why should
anyone care what I think as long as my policies are successful?”

“Precisely the reason we should marry.”

“What?”

He gave me his slow, sexy smile, the one that promised total
fulfillment, but said, “That we want and appreciate each other is beside the
point. It is best for both our kingdoms and for Janus as a whole.”

“The Children of Light may not agree.”

“They may not believe that our union is positive for them
until they see the benefits, which may take years to reach fruition.”

I hadn’t the slightest idea what he was talking about. “What
do you plan?”

“Landon Johnton wanted to bring peace to his world and
believed, as you do, that it would not be accomplished unless and until all
peoples knew each other better. Why else have you set out on this Progress?” He
leaned toward me and I became aware that nothing but a thin linen sheet
separated my naked body from Storne’s armored, weaponed self. He continued,
“You could have married, and married well, from within Shadowland nobility. And
yet you did not, because you knew that you had an obligation, and not only to
Shadow.”

“Yes,” I said, ruminating. “I hold the Balance and so must
consider the needs of all.”

“Landon Johnton wanted to bring peace to all and to feed the
hungry all over Terra. He talked also of the importance of balance between
population and resources.”

“Fortunately we do not face that issue.” I sighed and swung
my legs over the side of my bed, reaching for my yellow robe. “For us, the
issue is bringing the resources to those who need them. Food to your people and
the Lightsiders. Darkside mineral wealth to the rest of Janus. Landon Johnton
sounds like a great leader.”

“More potential than reality, I’m afraid. He entangled his
nation in a fruitless war that sapped the military strength of his country and
a great deal of its will to use war as a tool of statecraft.”

“War as a tool of statecraft? That’s immoral.”

“Many rulers of Old Terra thought it quite legitimate.”

“Barbarians.” I shivered and tied my robe’s sash tightly
around my waist.

Taqqa were ridden bareback, so I dressed in jodhpurs of a
heavy, dark fabric. These were loose and fashioned in a cloth we called demin,
after a similar material the Progenitors had brought. I do not usually wear
blue, but demin is a useful and long-wearing substance. I matched it with a
crisp white blouse and, at Storne’s request, a cape. Of fur-lined demin, the
cape had belonged to my mother, and so it featured an upstanding ruff-like
collar. The collar, also lined with the silvery fur, would keep my neck warm.

After breakfast Storne led me to the Darksiders’ encampment,
situated a little away from mine, to afford room for the taqqa to graze.
Already their tents, fashioned from brown hide and heavy canviss gray and
frayed from use, were struck, rolled, and strapped to the big beasts, while
Storne’s knights, kitted out in light half-armor and chain mail, bustled about,
preparing for the day’s ride.

The DarkDwellers, seeming giants to me, greeted me with
respect, ducking their heads shyly. Whether their reticence was real or
pretended, I did not know, but I sensed a great deal of curiosity. Many
superficially resembled Storne, being tall, dark-haired and pale of face, and I
wondered if they were his clansmen. All were light-skinned or florid in
complexion, though their hair varied in color and length. Some Darksiders had
silvery hair but did not appear aged, an unusual and attractive feature.

We reached Storne’s taqqa, its reins held by a junior
equerry, a stripling clad in an overtunic of black embroidered with the sigil
of Storne’s clan. Unlaced, it revealed a chainmail jerkin beneath. Storne said,
“Audryn, may I present my youngest brother, Maersan.”

Having had no prior knowledge that any of Storne’s close kin
had accompanied him, I gasped. “I did not know. How may I make you welcome,
sir?”

Maersan blushed red all the way from chin to forehead. He
had long, lank ash-brown hair and spotty skin. “L-lady, you need not. My place
is in camp, learning my duties.”

“Maersan has but ten starturns,” Storne said. He took a pair
of gauntlets from his brother and slipped on the left one, tucking the other
into his belt.

“I understand.” In the manner of all nobility, including me,
Maersan trained until he was of age. I continued, “But let us know when you are
free to join us for a meal or two. I should like to know you better.”