The Queen's Knight (ch 7)

Taryn was not one to binge drink. Her father told her from a young age that she should do nothing to surrender her sense of awareness, or control. That alone would grant her more power than the average soldier.

She drank, of course, despite her father’s warnings, but only socially, and only enough to get her tipsy.

But tonight was different. Silas could sense it when she plopped onto the stool beside him and ordered hard whisky. When he slapped her on the back and asked how she was, Taryn stared at the countertop for about a minute, then nodded slowly.

“That good, huh?” Silas scratched his beard and glanced at the bartender. It was Seth that night. He raised his eyebrows at Silas and turned to pour the drinks.

Silas lowered his voice, “You didn’t get fired, did you?”

Taryn shook her head.

“Oh, good! What could be wrong, then?”

“Her.” her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Right. And who is ‘her’?”

“Oh, I can’t say. But she could charm an angel into hell, I’ll tell you that.”

Silas rolled his eyes. “You can’t seem to avoid trouble with the ladies, can you?”

Seth set the drinks down, and Taryn finally moved. She held the mug in her calloused hands and fidgeted, but didn’t drink it yet.

“I’ve never loved anyone the way I love her, Silas. But I was too bold, and now she’s left a hole in my chest.”

“God, you’re dramatic.”

Taryn leaned back and took a long drink. Silas and Seth exchanged a concerned glance. When she finally set the mug down with a thud, it was empty. Silas put an arm around her shoulders.

“Why don’t you avoid this woman for a few days? You’ll forget about her, and find someone else within the week.”

Taryn shook her head. “You don’t understand, Silas. I can’t just avoid her. She’s everywhere.” she checked to make sure no one else was within hearing distance and leaned closer. “She’s already in the goddamn history books.”

Her friend frowned for a moment, then wheezed, and smacked the table with a meaty hand. “The Queen?” he bellowed, “You’ve been pining for the Queen of Shale?”

“Shhh!” Taryn hissed, but people around were already glancing their way and snickering.

“What’s the most you’ve done, made eye contact with her?” Silas held his stomach as he laughed, “And that ruined you?”

A few other knights and peasants around the tables joined in the laughter. Taryn’s momentary panic faded. Of course this information wasn’t threatening. It didn’t matter if they spread a rumor, because no one would assume Taryn’s longing was requited. She was the Queen of Shale, after all. It was a relief, in a way. Then a heavy disappointment. That was how it was all along. Why couldn’t she see it? Throughout her knighthood, Taryn had only seen Dahlia, and not her Majesty, the ruler of Shale. It was no wonder that even the thought of them being together was laughable.

“Seth,” she said at last, “Another whiskey.”

*

Onra, like many others, felt a shift in the castle the past few weeks. Maybe it was just winter approaching, but a dull cloud seemed to settle on Queen Dahlia. She was no longer accompanied by her favorite knight throughout the events of the day. And the meetings grew quieter without her snarky comments, and witty banter. She now sat solemnly at the head of the table, her once girlish features now stone-like.

At first, Onra saw this as an improvement. The Queen had finally shaken off any distractions, and now could focus on securing her alliance with Montes. But then, as it always was with Dahlia, there was a catch.

“I’d be willing to marry Izel,” she told Onra, “As a concubine.”

Onra frowned, and turned to look at her. They stood in the gardens behind Oaksbury castle, watching the evening frost form on the flowers.

“Your majesty, with your title, you would hardly be fit as one. That would be a deep step down from power-”

“Not me,” Dahlia corrected, “I mean him. Izel would be my concubine.”

“I’m… sorry?”

Dahlia turned to face her. “That way, I can secure an heir, and still have full control of this country.”

Onra shook her head, “King Voss will take the highest offense to this. Do you have any idea how humiliating that is? Going from prince to lover?”

“Oh I don’t think so. As a prince, Izel hardly has any say at all in what goes on in Montes. And doesn’t he have an older brother? He’ll not be taking over any time soon, so if anything, a concubine is a step up in power.” she smiled. It was that cheeky, childish smile that Onra had put up with since the Queen’s infancy.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you?”

Dahlia’s smile fell. “Pardon me?”

“Don’t you know the law? You can’t have a lover without a husband!”

“According to whom?” Dahlia spat, desperation clogging her voice, “Where does it say that?”

Onra wanted to hit her. “In the eighth scroll. I will show you right now.”

She took the Queen by the hand and led her back through the servant’s entrance, and up the stairs of the west tower to the library.

Dahlia stood by the window of the dim room as Onra shuffled through the shelves, coughing as she heaved up clouds of dust. At last, she pulled a scroll from the bottom shelf and all but slammed it on the table. “Here!” she choked, pulling it open and pointing a gnarled finger to a passage. Dahlia leaned over to inspect it.

The ruler of the realm will not have a lover, concubine, or mistress without first being wed to someone who can provide an heir. At this point, the ruler may take on as many lovers as they please, so long as they are citizens of the realm.

Dahlia frowned. “I have to change it,” she said. Onra scoffed.

“You may try, your majesty, but the council won’t approve, I promise you that.”

This couldn’t be it. There had to be another way out.

“But Onra, our kingdom is in danger! I can’t let him take over-”

“Have you no backbone?” Onra snapped, and Dahlia was taken aback by her boldness. “Don’t forget, you are the Queen of Shale. No one is taking control of this kingdom unless you let them, and I know for a fact that Queen Dahlia would do no such thing.”

Dahlia was silent for a moment. Onra never wanted to hand their kingdom over. She wanted to prevent bloodshed. And she trusted Dahlia to keep it in a tight grip.

Something made a resounding thud on the floor below, followed by shouts. Dahlia froze for a moment, then flew out the door.

“Your majesty, wait-” Onra flew behind her.

Wind roared in Taryn’s ears as she scrambled on the grass for her sword. Her head still spun from the whisky, and the ground wouldn’t stop moving. At last her fingers found the hilt, and she rolled out of the way just as the stranger ran his sword through the ground. She leapt to her feet.

The stranger was a tall man, dressed in varying shades of black and gray to blend in with the shadows. Had Taryn been standing just a yard further from the wall, she might not have even seen him try to climb it.

She lunged for him, and there was a metallic clash as their blades met. She dodged and parreyed as best she could, but the sun had just set, and her feet stumbled on the uneven ground.

“Intruder!” she cried again, but her voice hardly carried in the wind, and most of the other knights and guards had gone to bed. The stranger striked with speed and accuracy, forcing Taryn to back up towards the stone walls of the castle. He gave her no warning then, just grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her head into the wall behind her.

Taryn groaned, but couldn’t miss this opportunity now that both of his hands were out of the way. She flicked her sword and left a cut right below the ribs. The intruder grunted, and with the little energy she had left, Taryn shouted “Intruder!” once more. He took a step back as he reached for the wound, giving Taryn room to move forward. She swung her sword forward, and he blocked it just in time.

By the servant’s entrance, someone shouted, and Taryn silently thanked the gods. But she couldn’t rest yet. She struck again and again, sometimes missing completely, but never letting the intruder rest for a moment. She landed another cut on his right arm, and he dropped the sword with a cry of pain.

“Who sent you?” Taryn screamed, continuing to slash and swing at him as he switched the sword to his left hand. He didn’t respond, but kept a cold glare through the eye-slit in his mask. Clearly, he was an experienced assassin. Only someone with money could afford to send him.

She hit the hilt of his sword and sent it flying, then kicked him in the chest. The man fell backwards, and Taryn pressed a foot to his shoulder to keep him from getting up. “Who are you?” she demanded, and held the edge of her sword by his neck.

Footsteps thudded behind her.

“Taryn!”

She turned as much as she could without letting go. Several figures approached, one of which she recognized on instinct as the Queen.

“Your majesty!” she gasped, “This man was climbing the tower wall. He-”

She paused as darkness began to eat at her vision.

“Taryn!” Silas caught her just before she collapsed. The intruder squirmed, but another guard quickly pinned him down again.“She’s bleeding!”

“Get the doctor,” Dahlia snapped, and someone ran off. “And take that man to the dungeon to be questioned.”

Taryn watched the stars spin in the sky and panted. For a moment, she thought she saw the Queen’s face looming above her, and smiled. Then nothing.