North Queen (Crowns Book 1), page 47
“I can’t do that, Salara. The captain has ordered a post in your room. You’re to have a guard always.” Norah let out an enraged breath, but Bhastian spoke with a softer voice. “I’ll take the shift until Salar and the lord commander return. They’ll be back soon, and neither will stand for this.”
“You can’t be serious. This is all the lord commander stands for!”
The guardsman sighed and stepped to the door, turning his back to give the desolate women privacy.
Norah trembled in a maddening rage, but the only thing she could do was wait for Mikael to return. She and Vitalia pulled Serene into the bed and lay in the dark, trying to hold back the tears.
“Salara.”
Norah woke to Bhastian calling her. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and sat up, careful not to wake Serene and Vitalia lying beside her.
“Is it morning?” she whispered.
“Yes, early morning. Salar and the lord commander have just returned.”
“Oh,” Norah breathed as she slipped out of the bed.
He hesitated. “But, Salara, it’s not a good sign. The lord commander has gone straight to his study, where he’s to be left alone.”
That wasn’t entirely indicative of something bad. If the lord commander was unhappy, it could be the seer had spoken in her favor.
She hoped.
Norah padded into the bath chamber and ran her fingers through her hair. She splashed water onto her face from the basin and took a deep breath. Mikael would listen. Things between them weren’t completely broken. She just needed to talk to him.
She stepped back out into her chamber and slipped on her shoes. “Where is he?” she asked Bhastian.
“I imagine he’ll be reaching the castle from the stables any moment.”
Norah left her sanctuary and made her way through the castle with Bhastian close behind. What had the seer told Mikael? Would it break things more between them? She feared the answer.
She waited by the stair, pacing circles around the inlaid image of a sun on the stone floor. Her mind raced, and her stomach threatened to upheave the contents of her last meal. But she had to stay calm. She walked through the conversation in her mind. She’d tell him what Artem had done, about Bremhad and Kiran. She would tell him about Serene. She’d have to admit her effort to escape. He would understand. Or he might become more suspicious.
Her heart thrummed faster.
The front doors of the castle swung open, and Mikael strode through. He stopped when he saw her.
He looked weary. Dried mud covered the greaves of his armor. He held his helm in his hand by a single horn. He didn’t speak.
Every intelligent sentence in her mind left her, every word. The silence was overwhelming between them as she searched his face for clues.
He silently walked to her, and she didn’t move.
Ever so slowly, he brought his hand to her face. He brushed her cheek with his fingertips and grazed his thumb over the line of her lips. His eyes trailed his somber touch—mournful even.
Mikael pulled back, still without a word, and then turned for the stairs.
“What did the seer tell you?” she asked.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t want to talk about it—not a good sign, but she needed to talk to him.
She followed him up the stairs. “Mikael, I need to speak with you. About Captain Artem.”
He paused. “I can’t speak about this right now.”
She couldn’t accept that. “I’m sure you’re tired and want to rest, but it’s important,” she pressed. “I can’t tolerate him any longer. He—”
“Don’t ask any more of me,” he said, turning back to her. His voice was tinged with exasperation and hints of anger. “Not now.”
She stepped back in surprise. She hadn’t expected his reaction.
“I won’t hear it,” he said, and he started back up the stairs.
A heat rose in her cheeks at his dismissal. She trailed behind him, a fury growing in her core. “You will hear it!” she snapped.
He whirled back to face her. “Have I not given you everything?” he raged.
Norah stumbled back but caught herself against the railing.
His voice came low, but it chilled her soul. “I’ve required nothing of the North, put no demands upon you. I’ve given everything you’ve asked—peace, mercy, tolerance. I give provisions for your people. I give your army horses and weapons. Men.” His face grew darker. “And I let you keep the one threat to my crown. The man who is to strike me down rides unchallenged through my kingdom, through my castle. Even now he goes freely to my enemy. Still, I do nothing.”
He looked at her with defeat in his eyes. “I wed you to change my fate. But I’ve only brought it closer.” He steadied his weight against the railing. “I won’t hear it.” Then he turned and continued up the stairs.
Norah took a deep breath, tempering her fury. He was speaking from fear, she told herself. And meeting that fear with anger wouldn’t help either of them.
She followed him up the staircase and down the hall to his study. He said nothing as he unfastened his sword belt from around his hips and leaned the blade against the wall.
“What did the seer tell you?” she asked again.
Mikael waved his servant away, and Vimal left them to the quiet of the crackling fireplace. He pulled off his breastplate, dropping it onto the floor by his desk. He started with his left pauldron but fumbled with the small clasps and gave up. Norah watched as he gripped the corners of the desk and leaned his weight against it. He breathed heavily through his mouth.
She moved to his side. “What did the seer tell you?” she asked again, softly.
He breathed in a long breath and let it out slowly. “I die at the hand of the Bear.”
She needed to walk him back from this. “That’s an old vision.”
“No. There will be another Great War. A powerful event. There are many visions of it now: North flags throughout the Tribelands, Aleon forces in Bahoul.” He paused, his eyes burning. “You. Beside the Aleon king.”
Samuel’s paintings flooded her mind. But she knew things weren’t always as they seemed. “Mikael, these are but interpretations of what the seer has seen. They lack context, all the detail. You can’t necessarily rely on his translation.”
“I saw it with my own eyes!” he snapped back.
Norah stopped as her breath hitched in her throat. Of course. She felt so stupid—how could she have forgotten? Mikael had a traveler, someone who could enter his mind and show him these visions. She needed to see them. “How powerful is this seer?” she asked.
“The most powerful of the four kingdoms.”
Was he powerful enough to see what happened to her memories? Was he powerful enough to unlock them?
Mikael stood with a somber weight curving his shoulders. There was something more.
“He showed Soren a vision,” he added quietly, “one that Soren won’t speak of, even to me. It’s his own demise, I’m sure.” He paused, drawing in a devastated breath. “I haven’t changed my fate. I’ve brought it to my door. And I’ve cursed those closest to me.”
He struggled again with the clasps of his armor. She moved forward to help him, but he caught her wrist, pulling back from her touch.
The storms of his eyes eddied. “Leave me, North Queen.”
Chapter fifty-seven
Mikael’s anguish from the night before weighed heavily on Norah. And there was nothing she could do. Morning brought a new day, but not a new hope. This place, this kingdom of darkness that decayed the mind and heart, was breaking her.
She decided to try for a ride. She needed fresh air, and sun. How far had she fallen from Mikael’s grace? Would she be denied the little freedom she’d had before?
Norah stepped out of her sanctuary to see Captain Artem personally waiting for her.
“Salara,” he greeted her coldly.
His nearness made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Of course there’d been no retribution for his cruelty, and his smug presence enraged her. She hated this man. She praised herself for sending Vitalia and Serene to stay with Kiran and his mother—they were hidden, and safe.
“Captain Artem, what a surprise,” she said, not bothering to hide her disgust.
His eyes moved over her clothing. “We’re going riding, I see.”
Norah pursed her lips. He was attempting to keep her in. She wouldn’t let him. “Try to keep up,” she quipped.
His eyes darkened.
They rode out into the morning; Norah on the mare with Artem and a small group of his soldiers behind.
Norah took them far. Her spirits rose under the sun. Artem couldn’t hurt her, this she was certain. It’s why he hurt people around her. And Vitalia and Serene were hidden away, protected. All he could do now was harass her directly. And she would make it very tiresome for him.
They reached Hava Lake—a deep pool below a cliff overlook. Against the dark and rocky terrain, the water sparkled a brilliant blue. Kiran had shown her this place. The bluest water in the world, he’d said, from the minerals in the springs that fed it.
Artem pulled off his helmet and wiped the sweat from his brow before putting it back on. He didn’t wear a wrap on his head, like the other soldiers, but rather a helm that looked more decorative than functional. And like everything else in Kharav, the metal of his armor was dark, almost black, soaking in the sun. His head was likely baking in it. Good. She smiled to herself.
Norah looked up at the rocky overlook above, and her smile grew to a grin. She urged the mare to the water’s edge and dismounted, using her hand to block the sun as she looked upward at the rock face. “A nice day for a walk,” she called pleasantly. An even better day to require an overheated captain of the Crest to hike up a steep mountainside.
“You can’t be serious,” Artem scoffed.
She shrugged. “Stay here, then,” she replied, and started up the narrow path.
Artem’s annoyed grunt sang sweetly in her ears as he dismounted and followed with his guard. Petty pleasure, she scolded herself. And Artem would probably find a way to make her pay for it later. But for now, she’d give herself this small joy. It was all she had left.
It was a long climb, and despite leaving her jacket back with the mare, she found herself perspiring. Delight rippled through her as she thought of how Artem must be faring.
They were all breathless by the time they reached the top. Her legs burned, and a deep stitch clenched her side, but it was worth it. She closed her eyes, breathing in the sky and drawing life back into her body. This was exactly what she had needed. In a short while, she’d be back in the castle of shadows. She needed to remember this place—how the wind felt, how the sun hit her face. She needed it to endure the dark.
Everything was lost.
Yet something still pulled at her heart. Something small but strong.
Not everything, it said. Not yet.
Norah stood in the sun and looked down to the sparkling blue of the water below. The light danced across its surface. Its magic smiled at her. The wind swirled around her, whispering into her ears, breathing strength into her mind. It told her to remember—remember what she was here for.
And a new strength came.
She’d almost lost herself again. She had almost resigned herself. But she couldn’t. She owed it to her people. And those she loved. She owed it to herself.
Norah turned around to see Artem standing a distance away from her. He watched her with his dark and despicable eyes, no doubt thinking dark and despicable thoughts.
She raised her arms, feeling the wind underneath them. Artem’s mouth opened slightly, and he took a step toward her.
Her lips peeled back into a wry smile.
And she let herself fall backward, over the edge.
“No!” he bellowed as he charged forward. But he was too far away. He couldn’t catch her.
The fall was a fall into freedom.
Norah hit the water, and its chill sent a shock through her body. It took her a moment to recover, and she kicked feverishly back to the surface. She gasped for air as she battled the tangle of skirts around her legs, and her teeth chattered as she got her bearings. Looking up, she saw Artem at the top of the overlook, gaping at her but not daring to jump. She let out a triumphant laugh.
The lord commander would have jumped in after her.
But Kiran was right. This man was a coward.
Norah made her way to the bank and let out a low whistle, calling the mare. The horse found her quickly, and she sprang onto her back. Giving one last look to Artem, she urged the animal forward into a gallop.
North.
She rode until she was out of sight before she let the mare slow. It would take Artem some time to get back down to his horse, and she’d be well ahead of him. He’d never track her with Savantahla, a horse of the Wild. Norah brought the mare to a stop and looked around. Her teeth chattered in her wet dress under the wind, but she was thankful for alhilat—the break in winter. If Bremhad were there, perhaps he might not hate it so much now.
She shifted her mind to what she needed to do next. Artem had watched her ride north, toward the Canyonlands and Mercia. She smiled as she turned the mare east.
To Odepeth. And the seer.
Nicola Tyche, North Queen (Crowns Book 1)
