The Born Queen

He drew the horses to a halt. One of the riders came forward and pulled down the gauze that hid most of his face, revealing Cauth Versial, the leader of A

"Cazio," Cauth said. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Yes," Cazio replied. "Fancy it."

"You've heard the news?"

Cazio nodded, noting from the corner of his eye that the Sefry were continuing to surround him.

"It was a terrible shock."

"I would imagine," Cazio said. "To have the person you were supposed to be protecting murdered in plain sight with you all around her. How could that happen?"

"I'm sure if you had been there, things would have gone differently," Cauth said.

"I'm sure of that, too," Cazio said.

"Austra is in the wagon, I take it."

"Why would you think that?"

Cauth sighed. "Time is short," he said. "I won't waste it bantering with you. I've seen you fight, and I imagine you'll probably kill a few of us if you choose to, but there's no reason it should come to that."

"Why should it come to that?"

"It shouldn't. We've come to escort you to Eslen."

"How nice. I was going there anyway. But why do I need an escort?"

"The city is under siege. You'll need our help to get in."

"But why are you interested in helping? I suppose is my real question."

"We're not," Cauth said. "Austra is our concern. Whether you're there or not is immaterial."

"What do you want with Austra?"

"That's nothing to concern yourself about."

"Oh, I'm very much concerned."

Cauth started to say something, but then he peered beyond Cazio, and his face wrinkled in what seemed to be chagrin.

"Not traveling alone, after all," he said.

Cazio turned and saw, on the hill, a line of pikemen forming up.

"Z'Acatto," he murmured.

"Come along," Cauth said, drawing his sword. Cazio drew Acredo, noticing as he did so that six archers had arrows aimed at him.

"We'll go up the hill and talk to your friends," Cauth said. "We'll explain that there's no need for a fight, yes?"

"If you insist," Cazio said.

"Don't forget that Austra will be here, with my men."

"I won't."

He marched up the hill with the Sefry. Z'Acatto watched them come, sitting a gray stallion in front of his men.

"I didn't ask for your help," Cazio shouted once they were in earshot.

"No, you didn't," the old man said. "And I wasn't pla

"Good, then."

"Who are your friends?"

"A

"Well, good," z'Acatto said. "Then you're well off my hands."

Cazio nodded. "How was the wine? Did you drink it yet?"

"Not yet," z'Acatto said. "It's not the right time."

"I'm not sure there's going to be a better one."

"You just want a taste of it."

"I won't deny that," Cazio said. Then he spun and punched Cauth in the jaw, drew Acredo, and threw himself flat as arrows whirred overhead.

They want Austra alive, he thought, praying he was right, knowing in his bones this was the best choice.

With a roar the pikemen started down the hill.

CHAPTER SIX

FEND DIDN'T HAVE much of his army left, either. One of the Vaix stood behind him, favoring an injured leg. Of monsters, Aspar saw only a greffyn, a wairwulf, and two utins.

That was still likely to be more than he could kill, but he was ready to try. "I told you you were going to need my help," the Sefry said.

"Yah, thanks," he said, nocking an arrow to the string of the unfamiliar bow.

The wairwulf and the utins were fast, though, moving in front of Fend before he could aim.

"Aspar," Fend called. "If you manage to kill me here or, more likely, if I kill you, what happens to Wi

"I doubt that."

"Doubt it if you want; my offer to help still stands. I can find the Vhenkherdh; you know I don't need you for that. And yes, I'd love to kill you now, but then I would have one less man-or monster, which is more what you are-to go up against this knight with. We need each other. We can settle our differences afterward, don't you think?"

Aspar stared into Fend's single eye, remembering the sight of Qerla's dead body, remembering the last time they had been in the valley of the Briar King.

He had never hated the Sefry more, but the geos wouldn't let him fire.

"Let's stop bloody talking, then," he snarled, lowering the bow. "Let's go."

Stephen and Zemle floated in the grip of the Vhelny, which, now that Stephen had gentled it, was soft, firm, almost velvety. He had determined that the demon's limbs were more like tentacles than arms. It was still obfuscated from the examination of Stephen's senses; no power he had or command he could give would lift that apparently ancient magic and reveal the creature's true appearance. It was a subtle thing that would take time and perhaps more power to overcome.

He was happy that the cloud that concealed the Vhelny had no effect on his own vision, however, as they drifted through the delicate layers of clouds and the vista below revealed itself.

Directly beneath his feet Eslen castle pointed towers up at him like whimsical lances. About that were the tiers of the city and the long, green island of Ynis, held all around by the two mighty rivers and a thousand neat canals stretching off toward the horizon.

And along the banks of those rivers, beside those canals, were fires, tents, and tens of thousands of men.

West across a great bay, beyond an awesome many-toothed wall, the Lier Sea was thickly jeweled with ships for as far as he could see.

"Eslen," Zemle breathed.

"Have you been here before?" he asked.

"Never."

"Nor have I."

That wasn't exactly true. He had never been to this Eslen, but he remembered an earlier, much smaller one, little more than a hill fort, really, a tiny place trying not to be crushed by giants, its little leaders capering to his will.

Now it was quite splendid, though. He could hardly wait to see the royal scriftorium. Who knew what precious texts it might hold, unappreciated for mille

But first things first.

He had the Vhelny set them down on a pretty little hill on the island, where they had a good view of the surrounds, then set the demon to guard them from anyone approaching. They picnicked on salty ham, pears, and a sweet red wine. Zemle was nervous at first, but when no one bothered them, she eventually relaxed and even drowsed.

He noticed the Vhelny drifting near.

"I smell the throne," it said.

"Yes," Stephen said. "So do I. It's not here, but it will be soon, down there in the shadow city. That must be where Virgenya put her shortcut."

"You're speaking nonsense, wormling."

He shook his head. "No. She left the power, but she left a key to it in the blood of her line and a place for that key to unlock. She made a faneway, a brief one containing only two fanes-but separated by a hundred leagues. But once one of her heirs visited the one, it was inevitable that they should visit the other and inherit much of her power. That's what happened to A

"That's why you seek the throne? To save the world?" the Vhelny sounded dubious.