Glissanda Page 19

  Even in the darkness I can see Imogen’s wide smile. “That’s right,” she agrees. “We’re just getting started.”

  Chapter 15

  Leif joined me in our tent sometime in the early morning. I’d only been able to fall into a light sleep, but once he curled around me, I finally was able to sink all the way down into a heavy, dreamless slumber.

  We wake to the sound of rain on the tent. There’s a leak in the canvas, a steady stream of drips just above my head, and the moisture is making its way into my pillow.

  Leif is still sound asleep.

  I nudge him gently. “Wake up.”

  He opens his eyes; the green of his irises flashes as he looks around, as if he can’t remember where he is.

  “I hate to say this, Leif, but you smell awful. What were you up to last night?”

  He sniffs an armpit. Grimaces.

  “Aw, sorry about that.”

  “Well?”

  “I was throwing things.” He sits up, elbow on his pillow, his head resting on his fist.

  “Do you feel better now?” I brush some strands of golden-blond hair out of his face. More disheveled than normal, that’s for sure.

  “Not really. How are you feeling?”

  I adjust my position, stretching my arms up. “Sore. And damp.” We both laugh, then I sit up to stretch some more. “I’ve got a plan though. We should get up, go find Imogen—” Before I can finish, there’s a loud commotion outside. Shouting. Horses.

  I pull on my boots with trembling fingers; they struggle to buckle Imogen’s sword belt on. I finally throw the tent flap open and look out.

  My heart pounds wildly at what’s happening.

  Despite the falling rain, a dozen of the King’s violet-coated Hunters are standing in the center of the camp, half of them atop horses. The others are kicking dirt onto our cooking fire, right over the roasting food. A woman grabs the arm of one, tries to stop him from ruining the camp’s breakfast. He shoves her, hard, and she falls to the muddy ground.

  Before Leif can stop me, I jump out of the tent and run over to the Hunters. “What are you doing? You’re mistreating this woman!”

  One of the men steps forward—the commander. With a sneer, he holds out a piece of oiled parchment. “Ah! Just who I was sent to see. This is an order from King Dominic Araroa. You are to disband at once. You do not have authorization to camp anywhere near the Bastion. If you do not disperse and remove yourselves from the property of the crown, you will be tried and convicted of treason without pause.”

  He hands the paper to me and I scan it quickly. Indeed, it says just as he stated, with King Dominic’s childish signature at the bottom.

  I look at the Hunter still kicking dirt onto the fire. “Please, stop. Let us eat and we’ll be away.”

  “Raven, wait—” Imogen’s voice is behind me. I hold up a hand to silence her.

  The Hunter gives one final kick, then turns to join back with the others.

  I hand the paper back to the King’s officer. “Tell Dominic—tell the King we’ll be off at once.”

  He nods his head. “Very well, m’lady.”

  We all watch in stunned silence as the Hunters depart back to the Bastion.

  I turn to Imogen, still standing behind me. Her face is wearing a look of horror. “Why did you say—” she starts.

  A corner of my mouth raises into a half-grin. “I lied. We’re not going anywhere. I’m not leaving until I have proof that what Dominic’s done is legal.”

  A slow smile creeps onto Imogen’s face. “That could be a very long time, then. But, maybe not.”

  She gives me a funny look, one I can’t decipher. But I don’t ask for more.

  When the Hunters are well out of earshot, I gather the camp members around to tell them what I’ve just told Imogen.

  I also tell them that they are free to return to their homes in the Bastion and elsewhere. They are free to support Dominic—it remains to be seen if he’ll rule as his father did.

  It’s a relief when nobody takes up my offer; everyone stays.

  We’re going to stand our ground.

  As expected, the Hunters return the next day. This time, it’s a larger group. This time, I’m ready.

  “You said you were leaving. Why are you all still here? The King has ordered you to move on. Explain yourselves.” The commander’s words steam out into the cold and crisp morning air.

  I rest my hand on the hilt of Imogen’s sword and take a step toward the man.

  “We have reason to believe the Prince has taken the throne illegally. There was to be a week of mourning before that took place. It’s the law—Diuturnal Law. Until he can prove he had the right to be crowned, we’re not going anywhere. I stand by my claim to the throne.”

  The Hunter snorts. “Look, I’m no lawyer, I only do what my ruler commands. And that is to arrest all of you if you are not gone when we return tomorrow. He’s blessed you with twenty-four more hours. After that, you will all be arrested.”

  “Under what grounds?”

  “Treason, of course. The Pr—the King has reopened the northern prison camp. He’s ready to fill it with those who oppose his rule of law.”

  I laugh. “We closed down that camp ourselves, months ago. What makes him think he can just reopen it?”

  “He’s got his Loyalists, this time.”

  My smile slowly fades. “That may be true, but his Loyalists are protecting an illegal King. I am the heir to the throne, and I will take it from him.”

  The Hunter dismisses me with a wave of his hand. “Well, whatever. We’ll be back in the morning to be sure you’ve cleared out.”

  “Fine, we’ll see you then. We’re not leaving until, as I said, the Prince can produce evidence that he’s taken the throne legally. Will you give a message to Dominic for me?”

  “I will.”

  “Good. Tell him not to get too used to that throne. His days on it are numbered.”

  The Hunter’s mouth quirks as he desperately tries not to show a reaction. He nods in acknowledgment, then orders his men to return to the Bastion.

  This time, before the Hunters are out of earshot, someone shouts: “Long live Woman King Raven Araroa!” and the camp explodes into a riot of hurrahs.

  I hope the Hunters give Dominic that message too.

  While the breakfast cleanup continues, I escape into the trees for some peace and quiet. It takes a long time for my heart to slow. I hope I haven’t done anything foolish.

  “That was magnificent, Raven.” Leif appears beside me. I look up at his face, beaming down at me.

  “Thank you. Although what choice do I have?”

  Leif holds out his hands, and I place my icy fists into them. He grasps onto them, his warmth seeping into my fingers.

  “You’re right. This is the only correct way. But you could have done a lot of things—given in to Dominic, gone back to Nuimana. But you chose to continue to stand for all of us, and what’s best for Nadir. That’s why everyone is still here. Why we’ll continue to stand with you. If Dominic won’t follow Queen Seraphine’s legacy, then you will.”

  “I’ll stand with you too.” A deep voice rumbles behind me and I whirl around.

  “Cecil!” I close the distance between us with one leap, then wrap my arms around the huge bearcat’s furry stomach, breathing in his familiar mossy smell. My loyal friend.

  I peer around him and see he’s not arrived alone: at least a dozen of his kind are milling around in the trees at the edge of the camp. “What are you doing here?”

  “I heard about old Araroa’s death, and Dominic taking the throne—very disappointed at that, might I say—and my first thought was you could use our help.”

  I pat his golden fur one more time, then take a step back and try to compose myself. “You thought correctly.” I fill Cecil in with Dominic’s threats the Hunters relayed a short while ago. And my refusal to leave.

  A low purr emanates from deep within the bearcat’s throat. He’s not c
apable of smiling, but I swear the corners of his mouth turn up, just a bit. His large amber eyes are alight. “Not one of you will go to a prison camp. We’ll make sure of that.”

  I grasp hold of the bearcat’s paw, the size of a large dinner plate. “Thank you, Cecil. When this is all over, you and your fellow bearcats will truly be free. No more threats of being hunted, and your homelands in the mountains will be protected.”

  “That’s not why I came, m’lady. We’re capable of protecting our kind well enough. We simply want to see you on the throne. It’s what’s best for our kingdom.”

  His words spark a little thrill in my stomach. Suddenly I’m not fearing the Loyalists quite as much as before. The image of the those Cecil and his bearcats killed in the forest comes unbidden to my memory, only this time I have to admit it’s a little comforting.

  “I suppose I’d better introduce you to the others. If you’re ready,” I say.

  He inhales, then exhales a huge, rotten meat-smelling breath. My eyes water and I have to struggle not to cringe. Then he nods his head. “I’m ready, m’lady.”

  He waits in the trees while I gather everyone around. At first, alarm spreads across the camp like a wave—I’m not the only one who remembers the dismembered Loyalists in the woods that day. Then I bid Cecil and his cats to come out.

  Everyone is silent. It’s a child’s voice that echoes out from the crowd. “Can I … can I touch one?” I immediately recognize the voice as Rosie’s.

  I look over at Cecil, and he nods. “Sure, you can.”

  Rosie emerges from the crowd, her eyes wide. Eager.

  She steps toward Cecil gingerly. The normally upright bearcat kneels down, although his head still towers over the small girl. He reaches a paw out and she touches the back of it with her hand, soon stroking it.

  She looks back at the crowd, beaming. “He’s so soft!” she exclaims, then returns to petting him.

  Dozens more children emerge from the crowd, and soon the bearcats are surrounded, small hands touching and digging into their soft fur. Deep purrs rumble through the air. Before I know it, the children are scrambling up onto bearcats’ backs, and are soon riding atop them among the trees.

  “I sure didn’t expect that today.” Imogen steps up beside me. “But I can’t say the help is unwelcome.”

  “It’s more than welcome,” I agree. “They might be our last hope.”

  Our food supplies are quickly dwindling, with all the mouths to feed and little way to obtain more provisions. We’ve mostly been subsisting on autumn berries and flatbreads in recent days. Tui’s gone out to hunt, but he’s said that they’ve seen nothing, even miles out. The lands nearest the Bastion are over-hunted, bereft of game. The Palace has its own stocks of sheep and ox, but anyone caught poaching is punished severely so we don’t consider it worth the risk.

  Indeed, the day after the Hunters’ last visit, Leif and I are just about to set off to see Imogen after breakfast when there is a very loud commotion in the direction of the Palace, just outside our camp. We drop our conversation mid-sentence and set off at a run toward the sound. Closer, I see flashes of violet; I hear men yelling, a chorus of bearcat growls.

  I stop behind the line of bearcats and quickly take in the scene. Cecil and his clan are blocking the Hunters from getting near the camp.

  The Hunters are not pleased.

  “You!” The commander sees me and points. “Call off these … these beasts! We’re here to make arrests, including yours, since you have not disbursed as ordered.”

  A vicious roar rips out from Cecil’s throat. The Hunters’ horses rear up and it takes the men several long seconds to settle them again. “You’ll do no such thing!” Cecil roars. “These people are assembling peaceably. If your … King”—he hurls a huge glob of spit and fur at the ground with the word—“would allow them to return home without threat of danger, they’d be glad to do so. But as that is not happening, they are not moving. And we’ll protect them.”

  My heart swells with Cecil’s words. I know he is putting himself and his clan in peril by speaking them aloud.

  “My bearcat is correct.” I step through the line of bearcats—each poised as if to lunge at any instant—and stop directly in front of the commander. “We are not leaving until peace is guaranteed for us all. And, as I said, King Dominic produces evidence he is the rightful King. Until that happens, we will not bow to him, and as he has no authority over us, nor will we leave.”

  “You have no authority to make such declarations. I am ordered to take you to the King at once. You are under arrest for trespassing. You—”

  But three things happen all at once.

  I grasp onto Imogen’s sword, pull it from the sheath, and point it at the commander.

  As if a held spring has been released in their hind legs, the bearcats lunge at the Hunters.

  The Hunters’ horses rear up, the men cling onto their backs, both man and equine faces wearing masks of terror. The men turn their horses. And run.

  I watch the bearcats chase the horses, snarls ripping through the trees. The horses’ frightened screams reach my ears. Not a minute later, all is quiet again.

  “I guess we don’t need to worry about those fellas coming back for a while.” Tui’s voice is behind me.

  I slide the sword back into its sheath, willing my hand to stop shaking. I turn to look at Tui, and Leif standing beside him.

  “Good. It will give us time to figure out what to do next. Now, where’s Imogen?”

  Tui and Leif don’t say a word. But I can feel their grins on my back as I walk in the direction of the camp.

  But Imogen’s already on her way over; she practically runs into me in her rush to reach us.

  Her normally cool demeanor is in shambles. I still don’t think she’s used to the bearcats. She points in the direction the bearcats and Hunters ran off to, her mouth opening and closing. “Does what I think just happened, really happen? All I saw was a blur … are there more of them?”

  “More of who? Hunters?” I ask.

  “No, bearcats. How many are left in the kingdom?”

  I shrug. “A lot more than Cecil’s brought with him here. Probably several hundred, all told, from what he’s indicated to me in the past.”

  She smooths down her skirts, recomposing herself. “Don’t you see? All we—you need is an army of bearcats! There’s no way Dominic could fight those off.”

  I shake my head vehemently. “Bearcats are not fighters. I mean, they do have a ferocious demeanor, but it’s really all show …” But once again the image of the Loyalists Cecil and his allies killed fills my memory, and I’m not convinced my words are true.

  “But that’s exactly what we need to take the Palace by force! We could—”

  “No. I refuse to take any action that is not peaceful. I don’t want any more … deaths because of me.”

  Imogen’s smile quickly fades. “But, excuse me for saying so, m’lady, but this is no longer just about you. This is about everyone, all of us, and our right to travel and live and have a prosperous existence in Nadir. There are many willing to die to—”

  “Imogen,” Leif interrupts. “Please speak respectfully to our lady Raven. How can you possibly suggest she’s only concerned about herself? She’s only ever been concerned for others … her family, the Treasoners. Even the bastard little Prince himself.”

  My heart swells with Leif’s words, defending me. Only, they are both right.

  “Thank you, Leif. And you too, Imogen. You are both correct. We’d gone into the Bastion ready to fight. I know the Treasoners were ready to die for a better Nadir, for their families to return home. I don’t doubt they’d still be willing to. But Cecil and his cats—I just can’t put them in front of us that way. I won’t sacrifice them like that.”

  Imogen is breathing heavily. I can tell she’s trying to remain calm. “Look, Raven, m’lady, we can’t just sit here, waiting for something that’s not going to happen. I have a feeling we’ll starve o
r freeze to death before Dominic gives any indication of stepping down. Winter’s coming. There was ground frost this morning … we need to make a plan to move forward.”

  “I won’t agree to any plan that results in the death of innocents. Full stop.”

  Imogen closes her eyes, and exhales slowly.

  I wait for her reply.

  She opens her eyes again, forcing a smile. “I’m just going to come out and say it. It’s time we moved into the Bastion, for good. We can station ourselves right in front of the Palace and refuse to move until Dominic gives us the proof you’ve requested that he has taken the throne legally. And if he doesn’t, we’ll stay until he steps down and hands it over to you. And if the bearcats wish to join in, I don’t think you should stop them.”

  “The Bastion is still thronging with Loyalists. They’ll never stand for it.”

  Imogen raises an eyebrow. “They don’t have bearcats.”

  I consider what she’s said. I also know that Cecil promised to help, and it really is his decision as to how much of it he and his clan wish to provide.

  “I’ll … I’ll need to ask Cecil what he’d like to do,” I finally say.

  Imogen bows her head in acknowledgment. “That would be excellent, m’lady.” She spins on her heel to leave.

  But I don’t see Cecil or his bearcats until later that afternoon. And when he does appear back at camp, he’s bearing a gift.

  He’s got a freshly killed wild boar in his jaws, and he deposits the warm carcass close to our cooking fire. The boar is large enough to feed the entire camp, with meat left over besides.

  “I heard you all needed something fresh to eat. We thought we could help in that regard too.” He sits on his haunches, looking pleased with himself.

  I motion to Leif to gather some men to start preparing the meat for cooking; it will take hours and we’d best get started to have it ready for a late dinner.

  “Thank you, Cecil, for this and for what you and your cats did earlier this morning. For chasing those Hunters off. Is everyone all right?”