“…and the opportunity has changed little after all these years,” she whispered, thinking of her brother.
“What do you mean child?”
She let out a sigh. “We received word today that someone resembling my brother and using his name was spotted on Slum Isle.”
The High Priest grunted, his eyebrows bunching as if in thought. “Haven’t those reports surfaced before?”
Elyse nodded. “Yes. But there is something different this time. The message continued by saying that the man was in a hurry to return to Cadonia. He could arrive almost any day now if the reports are to be believed, and we have no reason not to trust the information.”
“Well, then that’s wonderful news if it’s true!” He paused. “Isn’t it?”
“It should be, I suppose. For years all I wished for was his return. But since becoming queen, I had finally begun to move on. I assumed I would never see him again. The thought of coming face to face with him now is bringing up all sorts of emotions.” She paused, shaking her head. “And that’s only part of it. The council started to get out of hand this morning when the reports were read. I think many are hoping the news is true, simply because they would rather see Jonrell on the throne than me.”
“But by leaving Cadonia, your brother denounced his birthright.”
“As queen I can reinstate it.”
The cathedral fell silent as the two stared forward, looking in the direction of the One Above. “Which could cause its own set of problems.”
Elyse shrugged. “Or perhaps resolve the ones that are present.”
“Perhaps.”
“You don’t sound convinced?”
“I do not mean to sound so indecisive, but in truth, those decisions are not for me to make. And although I hear a few things here and there, I’m sure there are others who can provide you with better advice.” The High Priest spread his hands out toward the wide open cathedral. “I’m afraid the most help I can be to you is here,” he said in a solemn tone.
Now I know why the One Above chose him to come to me.
Elyse reached out a comforting hand and placed it on the High Priest’s arm. “That is nothing to apologize for, Your Grace. In fact, that may be the help I need most of all.”
Burgeone smiled. “Thank you, child.”
“Do you have anywhere you need to be at the moment?”
“No. I don’t believe I do. Is there something I can do for you?”
Elyse’s eyes welled up again, catching her off her guard. Quickly, she wiped her cheeks. “I have some free time myself and I was wondering if you would stay with me a while longer so that we might pray together, like when I was a girl.”
The High Priest nodded and turned his head back to the altar. Bowing his head, he began to recite the prayers he first taught Elyse. After taking a moment to compose herself, she joined in, chanting melodically to Burgeone’s praises. As she focused on the One Above, the stress, the hurt and the pain slowly faded away.
* * *
Dabbing her brow, Elyse walked through the armory and past the forges. The old blacksmith labored away just as he had weeks ago during her first visit. The same young boy from before was now accompanied by several new apprentices, each scurrying about at the slightest command. Eleven other smiths hammered away at mail, sword, and shield, each with their own set of aspiring helpers.
Activity to her other side mirrored their industry as a gang of fletchers churned out arrows and quarrels, others crafting or repairing bows and crossbows.
So intent on their tasks, none noticed the queen enter the armory.
Perhaps they have become accustomed to my presence and see no need to show me special treatment?
Some of the nobles she knew would take that as a slight, but Elyse welcomed the anonymity after being pulled and prodded by others.
Making her way through the armory, she looked over its stores. For every row of polished and repaired mail, there seemed to be another ten rows rusted and untouched. For every barrel filled with arrows, a dozen more stood empty. Elyse could not deny the improvements Grayer had made, but she still felt sick to her stomach.
How can we ever stand a chance with so much work to do?
Rather than dwelling on her thoughts as she would have just days ago, she remembered the calmness she had gained in the cathedral. Taking a deep breath, she recited a short prayer to herself, asking the One Above for strength.
General Grayer, as usual, sat in the back. Leaning over a stack of papers that seemed to grow larger with each visit, he reached for his plate of pastries, shoving one into his mouth whole.
Elyse noticed how the mountain of sweets had grown to absurd proportions.
I guess we must all find ways to handle the pressures of our jobs.
The general wiped the sweat glistening off his forehead with the same hand, unaware of the sticky residue he left behind. She suppressed a laugh. It was obvious Grayer suffered from the heat, but since Elyse had caught him off guard, he had been more cognizant of his appearance and wore his best armor when he knew she would drop by. She appreciated the gesture but thought the decision impractical.
Elyse’s footsteps were drowned out by the rhythms from behind. She was not surprised when Grayer jumped in his seat as she cleared her throat. He rose quickly from his chair and bowed low. “Your Majesty, I apologize for my rudeness.”
“Please, General. Must we go through this every day?” Elyse said. Grayer waited for her to seat herself before retaking his own.
“I appreciate you being so forthright with me, Your Majesty. But I am a military man, and have been my whole life. I cannot help but treat you in the manner you deserve.”
Elyse shook her head. “So be it. I’m sorry that I haven’t been here to see you in several days. It’s good to see so much activity. How are things?”
“Better, Your Majesty. Though we are still far behind.” He gestured toward the weapon stores. “The amount of work is quite daunting and we were only able to fill out the positions a few days ago.”
“Why is that?”
“Truth be told, I think people are scared and want to make sure they don’t get caught on the wrong side, Your Majesty. Many are simply cautious and looking out for themselves.”
No one has confidence in me then.
“Then what has changed?”
Grayer shrugged. “People’s worries seem to go away when you give them more money. I hate to see how much it will cost to run a second shift.”
“A second shift? Is that how things were once run?”
“No. But if there were enough hours in a day, I’d even go so far as to hire enough for a third shift. But alas, the One Above saw fit to only provide twenty-four hours in a day,” he said, throwing his hands up.
Elyse shook her head.
I understand his frustration but I mustn’t let him shake my faith again; not so soon after rediscovering it.
She changed subjects. “Are the number of recruits improving?”
The general grunted. “That is a double edged sword.”
Elyse inclined her head. “I’m not sure I follow you.”
“I apologize. What I mean is that we desperately need soldiers but it seems the only ones eager to join are too young to know any better, or are so poor that they’d take a free meal and roof over their head from just about anyone. Regardless, neither group can afford their own armor, nor do we have enough ready to arm them ourselves.” He shook his head. “And training them is a completely different story.”
“The state of the armory is hindering your training as well?”
“Not completely, Your Majesty. We can train with wooden swords and shields. The bigger problem is a lack of competent officers to oversee the training. I’m worried these recruits are starting off on the wrong foot,’ said Grayer reaching for a pastry before remembering Elyse was there and returning his hand to his lap.
I sent away his best men to Conroy. And I haven’t heard a word from the Duke or from the forces I sent to him.
The queen jumped in her seat as a side door burst open, slamming against the wall. A young boy came running through the door in tattered clothes, a letter in his hand. “Sir! I have an urgent message for you.”
“Soldier, don’t you realize you’re in the presence of our queen. Show some respect or you’ll have latrine duty for a month,” said Grayer rising from his seat.
A Soldier? He can’t be more than fourteen years of age.
The boy turned and looked at Elyse as if she hadn’t been there a moment ago. His face turned red and his mouth worked up and down but his brain couldn’t find the words. To his credit, he was able to muster together a bow of sorts.
The General turned to Elyse. “I apologize, Your Majesty, but now you can see what I was saying earlier.” He looked back at the young boy who stood frozen in place, still unable to speak. “Let’s have that message, soldier,” barked Grayer.
The young boy snapped out of his trance and with a shaking arm, extended the letter to the General who snatched it away. Unrolling the parchment, his eyes scanned the document with an intense glare. As Grayer read, Elyse noticed his grip tightening, his teeth slamming shut as he finished.
“What’s wrong? What does the message say?”
He dismissed the young soldier who left eagerly. Grayer let out a long breath. “It’s Tomalt,” he said with his head down, leaning over the table.
The queen’s stomach tightened. “Tell me.”
Grayer looked up with a long face. “He’s crossed over into our land and has attacked Namaris,” he said, handing the message to Elyse.
She started reading the news herself, hoping the General had overlooked something. It was spelled out clearly enough, the city was under siege. “We have to help them.”
“I need more time, Your Highness. We aren’t ready to meet Tomalt on the field of battle yet.”
Elyse shook her head. “These are my people. We mustn’t let them think that we’ve abandoned them.”
“But, Your Highness, you’ve read the hopelessness in the letter. Namaris was undermanned. By now, Tomalt has probably taken the city.”
Undermanned due to my own folly.
“Then we must take it back.”
“You cannot expect us to lay siege to a city where the occupying force so greatly outnumbers our own.”
“Not only do I expect you to carry out my wishes, I command you to do so. If we just sit here and do nothing, what is to stop Tomalt from attacking Lyrosene next?”
“But, Your….”
“You have one week, General. Do whatever it takes to get it done. Money is no object.”
Grayer slumped back down into his chair and nodded.
Chapter 17
While
Ocean Spirit
navigated toward the docks, Jonrell gazed out across the busy harbor to the shoreline of Floroson.
After all these years, it’s barely even changed. The architecture looks the same but what of the people? How will Lord Undalain and Lady Jaendora receive me? Just like Amcaro, they were more parents to me than my father was. Thank the One Above that Elyse had them while I was gone.
“What’s on your mind?” asked Krytien.
The commander tried to hide his surprise by managing a grin. “For being an old man, you sure can sneak up on someone when the mood strikes you.”
“Please. Even Crusher could have snuck up on you. You’ve been standing in the same spot since Yanasi spied land.”
“Where is he any way?” asked Jonrell looking over his shoulder.
“Crusher?” Krytien inclined his head. “With Kaz.”
As Jonrell spared a look over his shoulder, Sylik bellowed out orders and the Ghal set to hauling rope with Kaz. The commander watched for a moment before turning his gaze back out across the water. “It’d take more than half a dozen men to equal what they can do together. I wish I had a hundred more like them.”
“That makes one of us,” said the mage under his breath.
He gave Krytien a piercing look. “You still harping about Kaz? I really don’t understand everyone’s attitude about the man. ”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. I’ve heard all the arguments several times over and they just don’t hold water. He’s pulled more than his share since becoming part of the crew, and lately doing so one-handed.” He stopped but saw that Krytien waited for more. “His Cadonian is improving and he’s spent a good portion of the voyage talking to people besides me.”
“And those just happen to be two of our more eccentric members.” The mage turned back to Crusher. “I can at least understand the Ghal. Those two have the same mentality, living by some warrior’s code.” He paused. “But it makes you wonder why Glacar hasn’t warmed up to them, doesn’t it? Neither of the three are what I would call a soldier in the truest sense of the word.”
Jonrell laughed. “Like any of us are. That’s especially funny coming from a mage who swears off any of the formal training that most others go through.”
Krytien shrugged again. “I prefer to go off of feel.”
Jonrell continued, choosing not to respond to the mage’s last comment. “Glacar’s just upset is all. He’s been our heaviest hitter for years and now he’s got two rivals.”
The mage winced. “I’d keep that comment to yourself if I were you. He’s been acting like a caged animal around them lately, especially Kaz.”
“Oh, I’d never be dumb enough to tell him that to his face,” said Jonrell with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. But then his face grew serious. “You’re right about Glacar. He’s never been very personable, but since Mytarcis he seems to have gotten worse.”
“The appearance of the Hell Patrol has changed since then. First Wiqua, then Kaz, and now Crusher. He’s not exactly accepting of those that are different than him.”
Jonrell spat. “Everyone’s different than that giant hairball. He needs to either accept my decisions or move on.”
Krytien grunted. “Ok. Back to what we were saying before. Crusher and Kaz’s relationship makes sense but what about Hag?”
“Hag can be a pain at times but we all like her.”
“Like her, yes. But it’s much different between her and Kaz. He’s looking out for her almost like she’s his mother.”
“So? Have you noticed how much better of a mood she’s been in? And you realize that the two people you mentioned both had a good enough grasp of Byzernian so he could talk to them while working on his Cadonian. On top of that, each was actually willing to talk to him. They don’t treat him any differently just because of his appearance. Maybe it’s because Hag and Crusher are both outcasts themselves, but they’ve overlooked the things that turned a lot of people off about him.”