The Born Queen

When he came to ground, Zemle rushed to meet him.

"I heard the sound," she said. "The sky was full of strange colors. I feared the worst."

He kissed her and smiled. "I'm glad you worry about me," he said. "But here there was no need for that. This isn't where my real test will come."

"You'll win there, too," she said.

Later that night, in their tent, she seemed less certain.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked. "Is this really your task, to challenge the queen of Crotheny?"

He rolled back a bit and propped himself on his elbows. "I'm not sure I understand," he said. "We went through this back in the mountain. It was you and the Aitivar who were so convinced I was Kauron's heir, back when I believed it was mere insanity. Well, you were right. Where is this sudden doubt coming from? Are your allegiences still mixed? Do you still think A

She gave him a tentative smile. "No. I suppose it's that I never quite believed it. But I believed in the shy, smart man I met in Demsted. I thought he would find a way to help somehow."

"Am I so different?"

"No. Stronger. Bolder. All of the things you were becoming anyway, now that I look back. It just happened so quickly."

"Well, do you still believe in me?"

"Yes," she said.

"Good, then. Do you still want to help me?"

"I don't see what help I can be," she said.

He smiled. "You just said it. You believed in me. You still do. That is a strength I can always use."

"And I love you," she said.

"And I love you, too," he said.

He knew she would be a lovely queen. Or mistress, depending on how things went.

CHAPTER THREE

"YOU'RE GIVING us too much," Aspar said, lashing a pack onto one of the spare horses. "You'll starve."

"No," Symen said. "Like as I won't, since I'm going with you. There's not much sense in staying at Tor Scath anymore."

"You can't be sure what the Church's army intends," Aspar said.

"That's true," Symen replied. "But even if they leave us be, what will we eat in a year? Two? And who's going to hunt here, anyway? No, I'll give you whatever I can. This world is lost, and the only thing or person in it I have any trust in is you, holter. So pack quickly, and let's be on."

Aspar nodded and resumed packing.

A moment later he heard someone cough softly behind him. It was Emfrith.

Sceat, Aspar thought. And again.

"I don't understand why we're leaving," the young man said. "This is the perfect place to keep Wi

"Keeps monsters out, not men, and we'll never hold off five hundred."

"It's an army of the Church," Emfrith said.

"That's the same Church that has been hanging every other villager from here to Brogswell, yah?"

"They didn't hang anyone in Haemeth," Emfrith pointed out. "We follow the saints there."

"Good for you. But we've had some experiences to make us skittish of anyone under saintly armor. Ask Wi

"Raiht," Emfrith agreed, sounding reluctant. Then he sighed. "Look, why don't I just go talk to them? See what they want? If you're right and they mean no good, we can still flee. But if you're wrong, then we can stay here, where the monsters can't get in, until Wi

"There's not enough food for five months."

"Me and my men can ride out and get some when it's needed."

"From where? The blight is moving outward."

"Yes, but we're riding straight into it."

"I thought you weren't going to question me anymore."

"That was when I thought this was the safe place you meant."

"There's a safer one," Aspar said.

"Is there?"

"Yes."

"Very well," he said after a moment. Then he walked away.

You really love her, don't you? Aspar thought. Grim, but I wish I could speak my mind.

His leg was throbbing as he mounted the horse he'd begun calling Grimla in hopes that a stout name would make the beast stronger.

They started southwest, off the Old King's Road, fording the shallows of the Little Moon River before the end of the first day, then starting up into the Walham foothills. He and Wi

But as with so many things, he'd been wrong. The valley had been there, and the Briar King, and Fend, and for him and Wi

He tried not to wonder where Stephen was, and he didn't like to talk to Wi

He'd done all he could to help Stephen, hadn't he? Followed the slinders, chased the woorm. He'd found no sign whatever of the lad.

He shifted his gaze to Wi

The foothills rose and fell in ever-sharper undulating folds and ridges. It had always been easy to get turned around in the Walhams, but now, without the usual reference points, it was more difficult than ever to keep a true path. He could see that there had been a lot of rain in the last several months and much flooding. The invading growth didn't have the same deep roots as the natural flora, and many of the ways he knew were closed by massive mud slides. Most of the ridges had washed down to bedrock, and the valleys were filled with viscous muck.

But in those low-lying places the eldritch vegetation was very strong. It was starting to sicken, but it wasn't nearly as far gone as what he'd seen back in the Lean Gables. They had to cut their way through it in places.

They progressed very slowly. Aspar reckoned that in three days they'd managed only five leagues as the raven wings toward their destination.

And that evening, He

"The churchmen are boxing you in," he said. "Don't know how. It's like they know where you're going."

"Where are they exactly?" Aspar asked him.

He

I reckon Fend was telling the truth about this at least.

Because it looked like they were going to need some help.

The knight woke when Aspar's dirk pricked his neck. To his credit, he didn't scream or wet himself; in fact, he hardly flinched. His eyes registered first shock, then chagrin, and finally, as he understood he wasn't dead already, curiosity.

"That's a good man," Aspar whispered.

"You must be Holter White."

"Ah, I'm famous," Aspar replied. "But I've not your name in my word horde."

"That would be Roger Harriot. Sir Roger Harriot."

"Virgenyan?"

"Yes, from St. Clement Danes."

"But you're not just on your way home."

"Regrettably, no. I have several tasks to accomplish, and none involves returning to my home."

"And these tasks?"

"Well, one would be to bring to heel a certain renegade holter, should I run across him."

"By whose order?"

"The Fratrex Prismo of the holy Church."