The Stillness of the Sky (27 page)

“All the same, please tell them,” I said and headed for Ro. When I was secure in the saddle, we took to the air, flying close to his head that I might look him in the eye. “I’ll return for a visit once this is all settled. I’ve decided I’m very interested in learning more about giant heritage.”

“You’re welcome anytime, Little Bard. Be swift, and be safe.”

I smiled at the ancient blessing, unable to remember the last time anyone had wished me so much. “Spirits willing. Take care, Commander.”

With that, Ro headed due east at my direction, giving a wide berth to the Litanian encampment, lest any of their scouts had spotted us with the giants. As we flew, I thanked Ro for taking me to them when I was unable to do so for myself. If not for his help, I might’ve succumbed to illness and failed before I could even try to do what I came for. Again, I couldn’t help noticing the change in his color. What once had been black, then dark navy blue, now resembled a rich sapphire. Ro was changing, though I didn’t know how or why. The only thing I knew for certain was that, regardless of his appearance, Ro was the best companion I’d ever known.

Someday, I would find a way to repay him.

“Identify yourself!” the soldier shouted at me as I approached on the southern road.

I halted in my tracks, hands raised in surrender. “I’m unarmed, sir. My name is Jacqueline Wallace, a Bard seeking audience with King Ivor.”

Sword at the ready, he approached me while his companion stayed behind. “King Ivor is in Torell. If you seek audience with him, you’ve a long trip south ahead of you.”

I lowered my hands. “He’s not. I’ve just come from there, and I know he arrived here this morning. Tell him I’ve come, and he won’t be angry with you for delaying me. Unless you wish to risk his ire?”

The other soldier trotted up to the first and whispered something in his ear. At the other’s words, the color drained from the soldier’s face.

“You’re certain this is her?” he said.

“Certain enough that I’m willing to chance being wrong. You know what that would bring.”

The first soldier stared at me, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “She’s only a child.”

“I’m well old enough to face your Piper and win,” I said, defensive. “I come only with kindness for the Litanian people. You have my word as a Bard that I mean no harm.” I suppressed a smile at my turn of phrase, as intention and action were very different things. Still, it wasn’t a lie. I’d rather suffer myself than cause pain to others.

“I’ll take her to the captain,” the second soldier said. “We’ll let him sort it out.”

Begrudgingly, the guard agreed and granted me passage with my escort. Yawning as we went, I tried to stay focused. Though I was tired, I had too much to do to sleep yet.

I was passed from soldier to soldier as we met with checkpoints, each explaining my presence to the next. After five different escorts, I was finally shown to the captain’s tent. The last guard pulled back the flap to the entrance, and I proceeded inside, stopping immediately when I saw a pair of green eyes that could only belong to one man.

“Your Highness,” a soldier behind me said, causing me to jump. “This girl claims to be the Bard who bested the Piper in Torell. She’s asking to see the king.”

The man turned his attention to me in full, his expression completely unreadable. He was the tallest of the three brothers, his build larger than the other two and the whole of him made more imposing for his uniform. “What proof do you have of your claim?”

Even his voice shook my confidence, as deep and commanding as it was. “I… Proof?”

“How do I know you’re who you say you are?”

Really, there was only one way to prove my talents, but what song to choose? As a general observation, I’d found I was very good at reading people and determining what they most needed to hear, but with Prince Gustave, I was completely blind. There was one song I knew that held meaning for both Aaron and Willem, so I guessed that perhaps it might be the same for their remaining brother. Without any better ideas, I opened my mouth, singing the opening verse and chorus of
The Lost Love of Fallinor Meadow
.

“That’s enough,” Gustave said, a definite change in his expression, though now he looked to be battling with himself. He leaned forward on the table strewn with maps and figurines of horses, his gaze intent on me. “What need do you have of my father, and how do you know he’s here?”

Of all the Maldavian brothers, Gustave was the one I knew the least about. Was he fair? Was he cruel? Could I trust him, or would he have me killed, or worse, thrown into chains?

There was no going back, so I placed my bets on a brotherly bond.

“Prince Willem told me he was coming, and that at least one other Bard sought to come along as well. I’m here to offer my services to help your army, and, by extension, your people.”

My answer gave him pause. “You know my brother?”

I crossed my fingers and prayed I wasn’t sentencing myself to life in a cage, then nodded. “He recognized that song as well.”

I’d swear that the air was sucked from the tent in that moment. The silence drew out in long, excruciating seconds that ticked by slower than a turtle napping in the shade.

“Leave us,” he said to the soldier behind me. “I’d like a private word with our visitor.”

My stomach knotted, sure I was in for the worst, and all because I was too hurried to find another way to see this through. Prince Gustave approached and stepped around me, sealing the tent flap behind his retreating man. Taking my elbow, he guided me around the planning table to a pair of chairs near the back of the tent, pointing me to one of them.

Gustave slowly lowered himself into the other seat, his eyes never leaving me. “So you’re the one who’s bewitched my little brother.”

My mouth dropped open. “No! No, I’ve done nothing of the sort. I swear on my life I’d never do anything to—”

“Relax,” he said softly, resting a hand upon my knee. “He’s told me much about you in his letters. I didn’t mean to imply you’d actually spelled him, though I did wonder at first. You’re much younger than I imagined you’d be.”

To say his sudden shift in demeanor was a shock would be an understatement. All I could do was stare at him stupidly. Willem had told him about me? How much?

“He didn’t say specifically, but I gathered that he’s quite smitten with you.”

My face heated. “He’s…” I gulped. “Yes, I suppose you might say that.”

“And what are your intentions, Lady Bard?”

“Intentions?” I repeated. “I don’t… I’m a Bard, Highness. My intentions don’t count for much where princes are concerned.”

“His letter yesterday gave me a very good idea of his.”

I shook my head, dropping my gaze. “He shouldn’t hold on to silly notions. I made him no promises, Your Highness. Don’t worry for it.”

“Then why are you here, if not to seek favor from the king?”

I straightened, startled that he’d jump to such a conclusion. “You think I’d come here in hopes of winning a title?” I bristled, insulted by the accusation.

Gustave sat back and crossed his arms. “You know where Aaron is, don’t you? I thought you’d come to trade one brother for another.”

I got to my feet, beyond insulted. “I’m not trading anything for anyone,” I seethed. “I came to help end this horrible war, nothing more.”

He remained seated, as serene as ever. “Then why do you insist on seeing my father?”

Meeting his gaze head on, I refused to back down from a challenge to my character. “To give him the chance to stop this on his own. Only he has that power, though, if I must, I’ll use mine to bring peace if he will not.”

His face darkened. “I don’t like what you’re implying, Bard. If you think I’ll stand by and let you—”

“I’m tired of death and pain, Highness. You’d think I’d cause more of it of my own free will? Ask Will what he says to that.”

He paused, then chuckled in the face of my anger. “Yes, I think you’re right. Will has rather strong opinions where you’re concerned, and I don’t think he’d be pleased I thought so little of you after the stories I’ve heard.”

Composing myself, I sank back down to my chair. “What did he tell you?”

His eyes softened and he searched my face. “He told me to trust you more than I do him. He told me to keep you safe. You must understand my position, however. I’ll protect my family and my kingdom at any cost. If I can help you, I will, so long as you don’t hurt the ones I care for.”

Aaron was right. The man before me was a far better king than Aaron himself could ever be. The absolute conviction in Gustave’s eyes was greater than any of the fleeting fancies that Aaron’s held. The man was loyal and protective, and he’d never consider running away from his responsibilities.

“If you want to save your kingdom, Your Highness,” I said, leaning forward, “that is one thing. But this is more than that. What’s decided here decides the balance of the entire world. Giants are not our enemies, but if we continue to push them, they will be. I don’t want to be responsible for what that will unleash. If you help me, you’ll become not only a champion for Litania, but for the whole of existence. Is that a cause you’re prepared to side with? I am.”

“You think it so dire as that?”

“I’m not alone in thinking so, Highness. All creatures play a part in this world. What happens to the rest when one is turned against them?”

He fell silent, considering my words. “I’d hear what others agree with your gloomy prediction.”

I grimaced, seeing I’d get no further with him on my own. “Then get me audience with your father, Prince Gustave. I’ve much to say, and I’m growing tired of repeating myself.”

Chapter 22

The army encampment was not nearly as clean and ordered as the giants’ had been. Everywhere I went, the vague scent of blood followed me, an undercurrent of something foul whispering below its surface. As I followed Prince Gustave, curious eyes tracked our progress, but when we came to the largest of the tents I’d seen, I paused. The moans of many men drifted out from the wide opening, and dozens of pallets were visible from the path outside. I choked on the stench that wafted out to me. It was the tent for treating the wounded.

As Gustave noticed my absence and returned to fetch me, a singular voice called above the rest. “Mama… Mama…” a young boy whined. There was so much pain in his words, I covered my mouth to keep my sob from escaping.

“We need to keep moving if you want to—”

“Give me a moment,” I said, interrupting the prince. “There’s something else I have to do first.”

Before he could stop me, I entered the tent. Instantly horrified at the bruised and battered men laying around me, I bit down on my cheek to keep from crying. Those whose faces weren’t bloody and swollen wore masks of agony, some as silent as death, others weakly thrashing in feverish sweats. Still, I pressed on, searching for the source of the voice I’d heard outside.

When I located him, I dropped to my knees. There, a boy no more than thirteen laid on dirty, blood-stained blankets. His right arm was missing from the elbow, and his leg from the thigh down. Bandages encompassed over half of his face, but his uncovered eye was glazed over, staring distantly at something he’d likely never see again. Even his color spoke of the impending end.

“Mama… Mama…” he whimpered again, his cry so forlorn and lost it nearly broke me.

“This is the cost of war,” Gustave said quietly. “His suffering will end soon.”

I closed my eyes, my fingers gently finding the boy’s cool, clammy hand. After an unspoken prayer that the spirits take him quickly, I did the only thing I could think of.

Bravest soldier, rest in peace

Your time to fight is done.

The watch stands guard

Your foes are gone

The world is safe from harm.

Bravest soldier, rest in peace

Tomorrow will see a new day.

The battle’s been won

And by light of the dawn

You’ll be home and in comfort again.

Worry not for those who fall

They go to a fairer place.

When the victory comes

And you lay down your head

The spirits shall sing you to sleep.

Bravest soldier, rest in peace

Your honor guides us all.

The light you leave behind

Will persist for all time.

Rest well, bravest soldier, in peace.

It was a long moment before I could open my eyes. As I sang, I felt it the moment the boy’s spirit let go of the pain, finally released from the suffering in his body. Though I didn’t know his name, my tears traced heated trails down my cheeks, mourning the passing of someone so young. He’d fought and died in a needless battle in a useless war, for a cause so misguided it was an abomination. I swore, in those moments, that I would give the very last of myself to see it brought to an end, if for no other reason than to prevent more tragic losses of life.

Releasing the boy’s cold hand, I stood, finding Prince Gustave’s stunned expression. Without wiping away my tears, I said the only words I would give before I could speak with King Ivor.

“Your Highness, take me to your father immediately.”

King Ivor’s expression fell somewhere between confusion and understanding, but he couldn’t decide on one or the other. Not that I blamed him, of course. He likely had pleasant dreams to take the place of a night in my company, and he was struggling with sorting reality from fantasy. All of that, I kept to myself, however. I had far more important things to discuss.

“Bard Jacqueline,” he said as I dipped a curtsy in the middle of his tent, “to what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

My mother, still disguised as Marcel, flashed me a worried glance from her seat at a table to one side, her quivering fork betraying her fears. A fine line of fate trembled beneath me, threatening to spill me onto the side of it that would see me dead. I focused on the face of the young man I’d watched die, the many others that had faced the same, and those still waiting to be freed from their pain. It had to end, my own precarious position notwithstanding. The weight of so much riding on me made it difficult to breathe, but I summoned my courage and gave the king the only answer I could.