Энтони Райан - Queen of Fire

“You are daughter to Lord Brahdor?”

The girlʼs expression abruptly switched from sadness to outright fear. “You know my father? Is he coming back?”

Reva sat down, meeting the girlʼs fearful eyes. “What is your name, girl?”

She took a few attempts before managing to form a reply, the word a hesitant whisper. “E-Ellese.”

“Ellese, I must tell you, your father is dead. Slain at Alltor, along with many others.”

There was no grief in the girlʼs face, just sagging relief. She hugged herself, head lowered to her knees, the soft sound of weeping emerging from behind her mask of matted hair. Reva hadnʼt appreciated just how young she was before, but now saw she couldnʼt be more than ten, and so thin.

Reva scooped some porridge into a wooden bowl and held it out to the weeping girl. “Here. You need to eat.”

The sobs stopped after a moment, the smell of the porridge raising an audible groan from Elleseʼs belly as she raised her head and reached for the bowl. “Thank you,” she said in a faint voice before commencing to attack the porridge with unladylike gusto.

“Slowly,” Reva cautioned. “Eat too quick on an empty belly and youʼll sicken.”

The girlʼs gulps slowed a little and she nodded. “Did the Fief Lord kill him?” she asked when the bowl was almost empty.

“What makes you ask that?”

“Ihlsa said the Fief Lord would visit the Fatherʼs justice upon one who was… cursed.”

“How was he cursed?”

“It happened when I was little. Before he was kind, as much as I can recall. But he fell ill, a brain-fever Mother said. I remember she took me into their room to say good-bye. He had fallen to a deep sleep and she said he would never wake up.” She looked down at her porridge, scraped the last few dregs from the bowl, and put it aside. “But he did.”

“And he was different?”

“Father wasnʼt Father anymore. He… hurt Mother. Every night. I could hear… Through the walls. For years he hurt her.” Her face bunched and she began to weep again, tears streaking through the grime on her face.

“Did he ever… hurt you too?”

The girlʼs head sagged again, her continued sobs all the answer Reva needed. After a while she spoke again, forcing the words out. “He would keep us locked up when he was away, the house going to ruin around us. The day before he left he… He killed her. He tried to kill me too but Ihlsa took my hand and we ran. We ran to the woods and hid, for such a long time. When we came back the house was empty… apart from Mother. We went to the village but there were soldiers there, not the Realm Guard or the Fief Lordʼs men. They were doing terrible things. We ran back to the house and hid in the rafters. They came in and stole things, breaking what they didnʼt want, but they didnʼt find us. Ihlsa would go out and find food for us every few days. One day she didnʼt come back.”

Reva watched her weep, head filled with images of a girl shivering in the dark as she huddled in a corner of a barn, clutching the carrot she had stolen the day before. She wouldnʼt eat it right away because there might be none tomorrow.

“He wasnʼt killed by the Fief Lord,” she told Ellese. “He was killed by a soldier in service to the queen. If itʼs any comfort, his death was far from quick.” She reached for her pack and extracted the scroll-case containing Alornisʼs sketch of the priest. “Did you ever see this man here?” she asked, holding it out to Ellese.

The girlʼs head rose and she wiped a threadbare sleeve across her face before reaching for the parchment, nodding as she glanced at the image. “Sometimes. Father called him his holy friend. I didnʼt like the way he looked at me. Neither did Mother, she would take me upstairs whenever he came. But one time I heard them arguing and went to the top of the stairs to listen. Fatherʼs voice was too soft to hear but I could tell it was different, not like him at all. The other man was louder, angry, he said something about years of wasted effort.” Her eyes darted to Revaʼs face for a second. “He kept saying things about a girl, a girl of some importance I think.”

“What did he say?”

“That her mar…” Ellese trailed off, fumbling over the word.

“Martyrdom?” Reva suggested.

“Yes. Martyrdom. He said the girlʼs martyrdom should wait upon her uncleʼs hand, when there were more eyes to see it.”

Her uncleʼs hand. Reva grunted in grim amusement. They thought Uncle Sentes would kill me. Vaelinʼs arrival made the Allyʼs creature change his plans. How much do they fear him?

“Thank you.” She took the sketch from the girlʼs hand and returned it to its case then rose, gathering up her things and strapping on her sword. “If thereʼs anything you want to take, fetch it now.”

The girlʼs head came up, eyes wide and fearful once more. “Where are you taking me?”

“To Alltor. Unless youʼd rather stay here.”

“What happened to the walls?” Ellese asked three days later as they crested the hill east of Alltor. She sat atop the mareʼs back, Reva leading her by the reins. The girlʼs legs were too weak to allow her to walk any distance and the mare not strong enough to bear the weight of two. However, regular meals had done much to brighten her spirits, and provoke an unending torrent of questions.

“They were broken,” Reva told her.

“By what?”

“Big stones launched by great engines.”

“Where are they now?”

“They were burned.”

“By who?”

“One by me, the other two by a load of pirates.”

“Why?”

“They were very angry.” Revaʼs eyes went to the river, swelled by winter rains, the dark waters concealing the boats that bore the dread engines along with the Father knew how many corpses. “And the queen asked them to.”

“Is she very beautiful? Mother went to Varinshold once. She said Princess Lyrna was the most beautiful woman she ever saw.”

At Warnsclave she had seen the queen with the orphans, the smile she showed them so different to the one she showed all others, a smile of real warmth and depthless compassion. Later the same day she received word of a band of outlaws preying on refugees to the west and ordered Lord Adal to hunt them down, sparing one in every three captured and these were to be flogged before being pressed into service as porters. She sent the North Guard commander off with a smile that day too.

“Yes,” she told Ellese. “She is very beautiful.”

She saw scaffolding on the walls as they progressed along the causeway to the main gate, clustered around the breaches where men could be seen at work hauling stone.

“Blessed Lady Reva!” the House Guard sergeant on the gate fell to one knee before her, his men following suit. “Thank the Father for your safe return.”

“Just Lady will do,” Reva told him, her eyes taking in the sight of the city. Rubble all gone but still so many ruined houses. “Or just Reva if it suits you.”

The sergeant gave an appalled laugh as he backed away, head still lowered.

Ellese leaned forward in the saddle, speaking in a covert whisper, “Who are you?”

“I told you who I am.” Revaʼs eyes lit on a burgeoning cluster of people in the streets beyond the gate, downing tools and starting in her direction, voices already raised in joyous welcome. “Sergeant, I believe I will require escort to the mansion.”

Veliss greeted her with a formal bow and a chaste embrace. “Iʼve been away too long,” Reva murmured, feeling the flush build on her cheeks.

“I heartily agree, my lady.” Veliss turned to Ellese standing nearby and squirming a little under the scrutiny. The crowd beyond the mansion gate was large and loud with acclaim. News of Varinsholdʼs liberation and the extinction of the Volarian army had spread swiftly to all corners of the Realm and Revaʼs arrival seemed to serve as a spark for a general victory celebration.