I’d failed again to save us, but I drew a deep breath and went on. “Do you know the price of tyranny, Your Majesty?”
He smiled and shook his head. “I’m sure you’ll tell me.”
“It is the loss of ‘no.’ Subjects say ‘yes’ to a tyrant, whether he’s right or wrong. He may need a new way to see a problem, but no one brings it to him. There may be a route to greatness for his kingdom, which he can’t spot and others can, but he’ll never know. His rule will travel a rut, which will deepen and deepen, until his chariot of state can no longer move.”
“Thank you for the warning.”
I was running out of ideas, but I had one more. “We Bamarre don’t speak of our power to curse”—because we didn’t have one—“because we’re kind and rarely exercise it, but I curse you with lovelessness. When—”
He chuckled. “A Bamarre sort of curse, not very troubling to a Lakti.”
False. My former father loved to be loved. I shrugged. “I suppose. When you kill Perry or have her killed, however you arrange it, your queen will hate you and you will lose the power to command love in anyone else. Your charm will harden. A wall will grow around you, which you will have to climb to speak to anyone, and just from above. Life will lose its sweetness.” I grinned, enjoying this final moment. “Even marchpane will turn bitter on your tongue. That is my curse. Long live the Lakti king.” I saw his fury under the mask.
“Are you finished?”
“Yes, Sire.”
“Then where is my daughter?”
“Here. I’m Perry.”
He reddened. “If you had drawn first blood, I would have lived up to my agreement.”
“I’m living up to mine.”
A feather-light touch stroked my hair, my chest and back, my legs, down to my feet. Halina?
I began to burn inside. Oh, I’d forgotten the pain!
This time I kept my eyes open and managed to hold out my hands so I could see. The skin reddened. Tiny boils popped up.
I wrested my gaze from myself. King Tove drew back, drew Queen Mother back, too, and shielded her.
My bones were melting and my insides were boiling, or so it felt.
King Tove’s expression changed from fright to eagerness. Ah, Perry was emerging.
He’d taken off his sword earlier, but he drew his dagger.
To kill me? Unarmed! In anguish!
I remembered Halina’s warning to Drualt when I was becoming Nadira. King Tove would die if he came close.
Queen Mother, trying to save me, reached for his arm to hold him, but he shook her off. Willem sprang forward to stop him, but Drualt catapulted himself and made my love stumble. Annet held Willem to keep him from trying again.
In my agony I don’t know if I could have moved away. I didn’t try. If we both died, I would have killed a despot.
He approached, lunged, thrust.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
TRANSFORMING HURT TOO much to tell if King Tove had run me through and I really was dying. I fell backward. The heat receded, but my side hurt.
After a moment, I propped myself up on my elbow.
King Tove dropped his dagger. Tremors caused him to fall. He writhed on the rocks, jerked, and was still.
Queen Mother bent over him. “He’s dead.”
I’d let him die. What did I feel?
Relieved? Yes. He’d have killed me. And now we Bamarre might be less oppressed.
But sad, too. I’d never again have a father who loved me—who relished me!—as he had before he stopped.
The side of my kirtle was stained with blood, not bad, just a cut. King Tove’s aim had gone wide.
“I’m fine.”
I’d grown taller than Queen Mother again. Her expression was always hard to read, but I saw new lines around her mouth. Her eyes met mine levelly. I knew what she’d lost, what we’d both lost, except I’d lost him long ago.
If she’d been a Bamarre, I’d have hugged her. Instead, I stood next to her and linked my arm in hers.
She patted my hand. “You have your hair again.”
I looked down. There was my shower of hair, without a single strand of gray. I glanced at Willem to see how he liked the change. He was smiling.
Sir Noll bowed deeply. “The Lakti salute Queen Klausine. May her rule be long. May courage and wisdom guide her. Victory for Queen Klausine!”
Queen Mother pulled her hand out of mine and stepped away from me. I saw her draw a long breath.
I hadn’t thought! I curtsied. We Bamarre would have a just ruler, finally.
Annet, Willem, Drualt, and Sir Lerrin curtsied or bowed.
After he rose, Sir Noll pivoted and bowed again, this time to me. “And victory for Crown Princess Peregrine.”
It took a moment for my mind to catch up. Sir Noll had learned I was a Bamarre, and yet he’d called me princess. Already he was proving his loyalty to Queen Mother by offering her the choice of letting me return as a Lakti or a Bamarre, in either case as crown princess or not.
Annet curtsied and Willem bowed to me. Drualt half bowed, half doubled up with laughter.
Sir Noll added, “Willem, I’m certain you can hear me.” His voice broke. “Son, don’t hold yourself apart from me.”
Willem ran to him. Awkwardly, they shook hands, smiling and smiling.
Queen Mother unpinned my tassel.
I let her do it, seeing ahead to our return across the pass. To Annet and Drualt I said, “Beg pardon, I’m not deserting you.”
Annet said, “I believe you.”
Drualt laughed.
Queen Mother said, “Noll, I hope you’ll agree that Tove was killed by a monster after Grandmother Nadira won their match.”
Sir Noll nodded. “Tove disappointed me.”
Queen Mother addressed Annet. “I’ll lift the Beneficences. Perry, I’ll live up to the terms of the match.”
I nodded at her. For now I should help her rule. “Let us climb. Monsters may come again.”
Sir Noll and Willem carried King Tove’s body between them. I took the rear, holding my unsheathed sword, the protective princess. If monsters returned, I’d be first to fight them.
Luckily, none came.
On the other side of the pass, Sir Noll and Willem set down King Tove’s body, to the dismay of the soldiers.
Mama and Poppi were there, too. They’d made the climb to rescue Drualt, but, fortunately, the soldiers hadn’t let them cross. Mama held him and she and Poppi took a while to satisfy themselves that he was unhurt. Next, they embraced Annet, and finally saw me.
I backed away, hoping they’d understand. Mama, quick-witted as ever, curtsied to me.
“We have a new queen,” I said. “Queen Klausine.”
“Long may she rule!” Apparently, Willem had decided he didn’t have to feign deafness any longer.
The soldiers bowed and curtsied. Mama and Poppi did, too, though both of them looked worried.
Willem added, “And Crown Princess Peregrine!”
Drualt said, “Mama, Poppi, you should have seen the ogres! I can’t wait to go back. I helped kill one.”
Sir Noll told the soldiers, “King Canute was carried off by a dragon. Then, after we’d acknowledged him, King Tove was killed by two ogres.” Cleverly, he’d made the accession clear, so Queen Mother’s crown couldn’t be questioned.
Sir Noll didn’t explain how the ogres had killed King Tove, whose body seemed untouched. Soldiers wouldn’t doubt a knight, and the unknown power of monsters seemed to satisfy them.
But a soldier did venture two questions: What had happened to the grandmother? And where had I come from?
Sir Noll, seemingly an inventive improvisor, began, “The—”
I waved to silence him. On the climb to the pass, I’d anticipated these questions.
Then I hesitated. To explain myself to soldiers would be seen as weak, unbecoming Lakti royalty.
I wondered what King Tove would have done.
Ah. “You’re brave to ask, an
d we always reward courage,” I told the soldier, daring to speak for Queen Mother. “We left the grandmother in Old Lakti, where I’d been living and exploring since leaving my father and Queen Mother. I doubt she’ll fare as well as I did.”
Drualt laughed. I would have, too, if I could have, as I watched awe grow on the soldier’s face. He didn’t care that an old Bamarre woman had been abandoned, but he revered the new princess, who had crossed the Eskerns by an unknown route and had survived unharmed. How many monsters had she killed?
Before we left the pass, Queen Mother ordered the soldiers not to stop any Bamarre who wanted to cross. “Warn them of the danger and, if they are few in number, suggest they wait for more. But if they insist, let them go.”
There was no earth for a burial at the pass, so we continued to the base camp. We arrived near dusk and found a dozen Bamarre in the soldiers’ custody. Spurred by the rebellion, these people had gathered here to make the crossing.
So few, and unarmed—except one with a pitchfork—they’d cross and be dead in an hour. We’d warn them after the funeral. Soldiers dug the grave, working briskly even in the heat. Sir Noll brought everyone together, the Lakti and the Bamarre, forcing the Bamarre to pay their respects to the creator of the Beneficences.
Before anyone spoke of my former father, Sir Noll delivered a few sentences about King Canute’s steadfastness, enthusiasm, and excellent aim. While he spoke, I observed the Bamarre travelers: six female, six male; most young adults, one as old as Nadira, had appeared, and one a girl as young as Drualt. All appeared healthy, fit, alert.
Would I lead them? Or would I be just one of their companions? I wanted to lead! Few, if any, would be trained in battle.
Would they be glad to have me in their company, the partial Lakti, who usually said the wrong thing? They’d accept Willem sooner than me. He always knew how to behave.
When Sir Noll finished speaking, Queen Mother declaimed about King Tove’s valor and the battles they’d fought together, the kind of praise expected for a Lakti king.
I spoke next. If I’d let my Bamarre side come forward, I’d have dwelled on his kindness when I was small and how he’d seemed to understand me better than anyone else. But all that had been betrayed, so I spoke as a Lakti. I told how he’d come when the Kyngoll had captured me and how proud he’d been that I’d rescued myself first.
I ended with poetry. Let the soldiers hear it from a princess:
“Exalted his departure . . .”
Trying to murder me.
“Dispatched by monstrous ogres,
Valiant, a soldier’s death,
Lakti’s brave King Tove.”
The soldiers covered their surprise at the verse with a blank military gaze. If Queen Mother objected, she didn’t stop me.
The Bamarre exchanged glances. A middle-aged woman, perhaps understanding how much was about to change, asked Queen Mother’s leave to recite, too, for King Tove, and permission was granted. She spoke several stanzas, while I thought how King Tove would have hated this. She ended with these lines:
“High peaks like watchers waiting,
The Eskerns take him in
And welcome him, the Lakti king.”
After the funeral, the Lakti and the Bamarre separated again, each to prepare their evening meals. I knew better than to force them to stay together, but when Annet approached the Bamarre, I started to follow her.
“Perry?”
I turned.
Willem said, “You haven’t told me about your months on the other side of the Eskerns.”
He knew I hadn’t spent months there, so why?
Oh. To stop me from going with Annet and frightening everyone. I called her back to me. “Tell them about our battle. Warn them not to cross until they’re at least two hundred strong.” Four hundred would be better. “And not until they have arms and armor.”
“Begging your pardon, I know.”
Of course. I looked around for Willem and saw him halfway down the hill away from the camp and the Eskerns. As I followed, I saw Queen Mother watching.
The sun had gone down, but light lingered, making the grass greener and the rocks that littered the ground more somber.
He stopped at an outcropping of stone. “Your throne, Your Highness.”
I sat. “I’m happy to share my throne.” I moved over.
Then my words came back to me. Oh, no! Share my throne. Had I proposed to him?
If it was a proposal, he didn’t answer. “Are you eager to cross the Eskerns?”
“I am.” Just saying so made me want to jump up and battle a monster. “It will be simpler there, fighting an enemy we must defeat and won’t enslave. Paradise.”
He laughed. “A monster-ridden paradise.”
“Yes! It was fun to fight them.” I laughed, too. “Aside from King Tove and the imminent match and my likely death.”
He was quiet.
I became uneasy. “Did you enjoy it, too?”
The pause lengthened.
I added, “Will you cross the Eskerns?”
“And be the only true Lakti there?”
That would trouble him? Everyone liked him.
He added, “I’ll go. I don’t want to be apart from you ever again.”
Ah. He may not have minded if I’d proposed.
He grinned. “I think you don’t want to be apart, either.”
I blushed.
He went on. “I thought I’d like fighting monsters, but I didn’t. Perry, I even hate to kill fleas.”
Everybody liked to kill fleas!
He’d do what he hated for me?
Then I wondered if he’d be able to prevail against monsters if he hated hurting them.
As he often did, he read my face or my mind. “I’ll fight them. I’ll be fine, as long as I remember that my power is in my back leg.”
I laughed.
He added, “Killing monsters is much better than killing people.”
I reached out and took his hand, the prerogative of a proposing princess. As soon as I touched him, my heart sped up.
He put a hand behind my head, and gently pressed me toward him.
We kissed. Oh, my! Sweet, the long-promised kiss.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
WILLEM AND I rode side by side the next morning, enjoying our companionship. I caught several significant looks from Annet, but no one else seemed to notice.
We traveled under a blistering sun, and it was still only May. Often, we saw distant fires, spread by dry weather.
At every village we were met by angry and worried Lakti citizens. In some villages, fighting had broken out. A few of the Lakti had been killed, but more of us Bamarre.
Whenever we stopped, Queen Mother announced the lifting of the Beneficences. She promised the return of the Bamarre youth and rode on without waiting to see how her news had been received. Her purpose was to speed to the troops that King Tove had sent to quell the rebellion. I wondered how many of the Bamarre they’d killed. Hundreds, certainly.
After she called off the soldiers, she and Sir Lerrin would ride to the battlefront and sign a truce.
In the middle of the afternoon, a dark haze rose in the road ahead. When we got closer, it resolved to a mass of fifty or more Bamarre folk, raising dust, tassels swinging, marching to the Eskerns.
They stopped and faced us defiantly, but Queen Mother merely nodded and rode on. However, Annet stayed to speak with them. Half an hour later, she galloped up and rejoined us.
That night, Queen Mother drew me away from the campfire before we all lay down to sleep. By torchlight, she led me to the top of a gentle rise. Together, we faced out into the night.
I thanked her for protecting me from King Tove. “Begging your pardon, you shouldn’t have taken me.” All those years ago.
“If I hadn’t, how pale my life would have been.”
Mine would have had different hues, and I would almost certainly be in servitude right now. “You were an excellent Lakti mother.” My nod
to her.
I added, “I didn’t tell Willem I was Bamarre until after Lord Tove had imprisoned me.”
She took that in. “I see.” Then, “You may marry him.” Her voice was flat.
“Willem?” She approved? I smiled, though I would have married him anyway.
“Yes.” She turned to face me. “I’ve changed my idea of a proper Lakti husband.” Another pause. “And father.”
I pitied her.
She smiled. “And a princess doesn’t need an advantageous marriage.”
Didn’t she realize? “I’m going through the pass.”
Her smile became a grimace.
I added, trying not to sound glad, “To fight monsters.”
“Of course. You’re a warrior, and we’ll need other skills here.”
Skills that neither of us had. I wondered how she’d manage but put the thought aside. We who crossed would have troubles of our own.
The next morning, I sat with Sir Lerrin while we broke our fast.
“I’m going to cross the Eskerns.”
“Never be a queen?”
“Probably not.”
He smiled. “We Kyngoll are willing to be wrong. We’re not stiff-necked.”
Stiff-necked about their superiority over the Lakti, I thought. Maybe he’d learn otherwise.
Later, when we set out, Annet and I rode side by side, and I enjoyed the ease that had grown up between us.
“I’m really your sister, you know.”
I didn’t understand.
She smiled. “And Drualt’s sister, too. I enjoyed killing the gryphon and chopping off the ogre’s hand.”
I smiled back. “Good.” She’d be happy in the new Bamarre.
We rode in silence for a few minutes until she said, “I won’t mind leaving New Lakti.”
“It’s beautiful beyond the Eskerns, not where we were, but farther south.” Still, I thought, New Lakti is beautiful, too. I would miss it.
Three days later we reached Gavrel. To my family’s relief and mine, the village had fared better than any we’d passed. In hopes of more gold when we returned, the Ships had been conciliatory to their Bamarre and had insisted that the widow and the two soldiers behave as they did. No fields were burning. No one else had been flogged, and no one had been killed.