Renegade Queen : A Court Intrigue Fantasy (The Forbidden Queen Series Book 3)
Copyright © 2020 R.J. Vickers
All rights reserved.
Cover by Deranged Doctor Design
Map designed by Cornelia Yoder http://www.corneliayoder.com
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ISBN-13: 9798647908032
www.rjvickers.com
Contents
Chapter 1 - Vigilantes
Chapter 2 - The Bridge at Pelek
Chapter 3 - Borderville
Chapter 4 - The Wandering Woods
Chapter 5 - Dakolth
Chapter 6 - Race to the Road
Chapter 7 - A Cold Welcome
Chapter 8 - The Governor’s Estate
Chapter 9 - The Gardener
Chapter 10 - The Captain’s Crew
Chapter 11 - The Silent Attack
Chapter 12 - Casualties of War
Chapter 13 - The Curse-Weaver
Chapter 14 - A Call for Aid
Chapter 15 - Torches in the Night
Chapter 16 - The Moonlit Run
Chapter 17 - Riders from the West
Chapter 18 - The Purge of Magic
Chapter 19 - Dravs and Varlins
Chapter 20 - The Final Hours
Chapter 21 - Leoth’s Secret
Chapter 22 - The Island in the Harbor
Chapter 23 - The Tower
Chapter 24 - Surrender
Chapter 25 - The Restless Sea
Chapter 26 - The Evacuees
Chapter 27 - Rowboats
Chapter 28 - The Itrean Army
Glossary of Terms
Itrea – A country founded by the magic races and other minorities who fled the Kinship Thrones centuries ago. Baylore is its capital, and Larkhaven its only port city.
The Itrean system of rule – Itrea has created a system of elected monarchy where five heirs share a thirty-year ruling cycle. Each heir is nominated by the current ruler from each of the five ruling families, and is usually a relative. When the ruling cycle switches, the heir of the king or queen currently in power takes the throne, and after three years, Baylore holds a vote as to whether that monarch should keep the throne or hand it to the next king or queen in line. If all five monarchs in the ruling cycle are voted off the throne after their three years are over, rule returns to the first monarch in line for that cycle.
Holden King/Holden Queen – The term for a king or queen in a current ruling cycle who does not sit the throne.
The five ruling families of Itrea – The original aim of this ruling system was to share power more evenly among the people, since the founders of Itrea had no royal blood. However, five royal families have now held power for centuries. These are the Reycoran family, the Aldsvell family, the Dellgrain family, the Vellmont family, and the Bastray family. Tradition dictates that all rulers and their relatives take the ruling family’s surname, so these names have endured since the foundation of the royal lines.
Icelings – A race native to Itrea who live in the Icebraid Peaks. Little is known about them, so they often feature in fantastical stories.
Drifters – A race native to Itrea who live in the Wandering Woods. They can choose to undergo a ritual to gain the use of healing powers.
The magic races – These are people born with one of a handful of magic powers. They are not closely linked by genetics (aside from Weavers), so anyone with even distant magic ancestry can end up with a magic power, and it can skip many generations. Also called Makhori (in the Kinship Thrones). The magic races include Weavers (who are born with silver hair that can be woven or otherwise incorporated into handmade objects to enchant them), Cloudmages (who can predict or even exert a slight power over weather), Minstrels (storytellers who pull named listeners into stories that feel like reality), Riders (who bond with animals), Potioneers (who create enchanted substances by channeling their magic into ordinary ingredients), Metalsmiths (who can sense veins of metal underground and use their power to forge delicate metal objects), and more.
The forbidden races – The forbidden races are not allowed within the walls of Baylore. The rationale is that these races are dangerous, especially in a heavily populated place like Baylore, but some magic races have been lumped into this category due to general mistrust or prejudice. Forbidden races include Extractors (who drain energy from those nearby), Braiders (who can fix the time and cause of a person’s death), Curse-Weavers (who can curse people deliberately or accidentally unless the source of their power is cut from them), Dark Potioneers (who use less accepted substances such as blood and flesh in their potions), and Snake-Bloods (who can transform into snakes).
The Kinship Thrones – The name for the nine kingdoms joined under Whitish rule. Long ago, the expanding Whitish Empire was divided between the high king’s nine sons, though some kingdoms had been settled long before Whitish influence. The Kinship Thrones are east of Itrea. They include Whitland, Chelt, Dardensfell, Kohlmarsh, Cashabree, Ruunas, Northreach, Lostport, and Varrival.
Whitland – The country that rules all nine Kinship Thrones (at least in theory). Whitland does not accept Itrea’s autonomy and tries to curtail trade between Itrea and the Kinship Thrones. Most inhabitants of the Kinship Thrones are originally of the Whitish race, but are now known by their country of nationality (Cheltish, Varrilan, Ruunan, etc.). Whitish is also the official language of Itrea and most of the Kinship Thrones.
Makhori – A term used in the Kinship Thrones for those with magic blood (known as the magic races in Itrea)
Varos – A god worshipped in the Kinship Thrones, especially in Whitland. In Itrea, often shortened to “Varse” as a curse.
The Nine – The nine Whitish gods of light who pre-dated Varos. The days in a quarter and spans in a year have been divided up numerically to honor the nine gods (plus Varos, in the 10-day quarter).
The Seventeen Gods of Sin – According to Whitish religious teachings, the Gods of Sin birthed the magic races. Hence all Makhori are demons who represent the lingering presence of evil in the world.
Cloudy Gods – A joking term Itreans use to refer to things outside their control, sometimes as a mild oath. Itreans are not religious and have only adopted the parts of Whitish religion relating to general terminology (days/quarters/spans). However, some country folk genuinely believe in the cloudy gods, which causes no end of amusement to city folk.
Dravs – Stamped tin coins worth a small amount
Varlins – A varlin is worth twenty dravs. Varlins are stamped coins typically made of silver, with a small gemstone in the center.
Span – A period of 40 days. There are eight full spans plus one incomplete span in a year.
Quarter – A period of 10 days. There are four quarters in a span. The days in a quarter are Aurumsday, Talonsday, Tensday, Tollsday, Samsday, Ilkayumsday, Tabansday, Daridsday, Varseday, and Sullimsday. These are named after Varos and the nine Whitish gods of light.
League – Equal to approximately 5 kilometers (3 miles)
1
Vigilantes
T hree days out from Baylore, we ran across a gang of rogue horsemen.
We were nearly to Pelek, according to Mellicante, and it was there we would cross the Elygian River.
When hoofbeats thundered toward us, the riders engulfed in a cloud of dust, we sc
rambled off the road and jumped over the nearest farm wall into a field of millet. Heart thudding, I dropped into a crouch, my back pressed against the wall. The hoofbeats drew closer…and began to slow.
“Varse,” Mellicante muttered.
“They must have seen us,” Baridya whispered anxiously. She gripped Mellicante’s arm, the back of her head pressed against the stone.
“Do we fight or try to talk our way out of this?” Quendon asked, hand on his sword.
I paused for a moment to listen to the hooves. There were too many—it sounded like a whole herd of horses approached. “I don’t know how to fight. We need to persuade them we’re not a threat.”
“After jumping over a wall and hiding?” Mellicante asked drily. “If they weren’t already suspicious, we’ve given them good reason to be.”
The hoofbeats slowed to a halt and the dust cloud began to settle. I breathed in a mouthful of dust and gagged; I had to bury my face in my sleeve to muffle my cough.
A pair of feet crunched softly on the dirt as one of the men dismounted and approached.
“Show yerselves!” he barked, and I heard the rasp of steel as he drew a sword. “We’ve got ye surrounded. Put down yer weapons and stand up.”
My companions looked at me, Quendon and Mellicante with resolve, Baridya with fear in her eyes. I climbed slowly to my feet.
Eight men clustered around the wall, most still mounted. They looked like farmers rather than soldiers, their clothing simple homespun, their hair sloppy and overgrown.
“And the rest of you,” a second man said impatiently.
Hesitantly, my three companions rose, hands raised to show they held no weapons.
“Eh, what’re a bunch of women doing out here on the road?” another man asked.
“And why the plagues did you hide?”
“We didn’t want to get in your way,” Mellicante said. “We weren’t sure you could see us through that cloud of dust, and we didn’t want to get trampled.” She let her city accent slide away, replaced by a rougher country tone.
“But why’d ye hide? Mighty suspicious, that is. What’re ye doing out here anyway? No one’s meant to be traveling.”
“Not even traders?”
“Nah, not unless they’ve got a writ from the Truthbringers. Have ye got a writ?”
Mellicante did not reply.
“Didn’t think so. Ye haven’t got the wagon or the horses. What’s yer business?”
“Lady Baridya’s father is ill, and we’re hoping to visit him before the end.”
Baridya inclined her head with a convincingly sorrowful look.
“And where does he live? Ye’re not to travel through the Wanderin’ Woods. Strict orders of the gov’ner.”
“Just in Valleywall,” Baridya said. “We’re not going far.” Valleywall was still several days’ travel ahead of us.
One of the men spat. “I don’t believe them. Three women travelin’ with just one man? And those are real swords they’ve got.” He nodded at the weapons belted to our waists. “There’s somethin’ suspicious goin’ on here.”
The first man stalked forward until I could smell his breath, rank and fishy. “Show us yer wrists.”
I fought the urge to stumble back. With clumsy hands, I dragged up my sleeves to show unblemished wrists—I had no X-shaped scar to mark me as one of the forbidden races. The others hastened to follow suit, and the man stared at their unmarked wrists for a minute before shaking his head.
“We could arrest ye and drag ye back to Baylore, ye know. I bet ye’re smugglers, or maybe ye’re trying to pass information to our enemies. They’d know what to do with ye.”
No. We couldn’t return to Baylore. The Truthbringers thought I was dead, and I had to keep it that way. “You can escort us to Valleywall, if you’d like. You’ll see soon enough we’re telling the truth.” I tried to make my voice rougher as well—growing up in Ambervale, Mother had often berated me for allowing a country accent to slip into my tone.
“Ye think we haven’t got anything better to do than haul a bunch of women ‘round the countryside?”
“What else are you going to do?” Baridya asked. “Kill us? I won’t turn back to Baylore while my father still lives.” She was really getting into the role—I could even see tears in her eyes.
“We’ll do it,” one of the men said.
The one who had checked our wrists turned and stalked toward his fellow. “Bloody plagues.”
“They haven’t got the marks, so we can’t harm them. And we haven’t seen anyone else on the road in days. It won’t take long to reach Valleywall. If they’re lying, they’ll get what’s coming to them.”
“Fine. We’ll do it. Hand over yer weapons.”
I fumbled to un-belt my sword from my waist while my companions did the same. Thankfully I still had the hidden dagger strapped around my arm—I had nearly let the men get a glimpse of it when I showed my wrists. I hoped Mellicante and Quendon might be hiding additional weapons of their own.
The men who had dismounted swung back into their saddles and closed in around us; tightly packed as we were, I feared one of the horses might startle and kick us.
“I’ll ride ahead and watch the bridge, in case they try to run for it,” one of the riders said, drawing ahead of the group. “I don’t trust them.”
“Aye, that’s a good thought.”
Unarmed and unburdened save for the small packs of supplies on our backs, we began shuffling down the road in a tight clump. The horses clopped along at an unsteady gait, tossing their heads and chomping at their bits. They seemed badly trained and ill-tempered, which fed my apprehension.
“What are you planning?” Baridya whispered out of the corner of her mouth as we walked.
“We need to escape as soon as we can,” I whispered back. “Maybe tonight.”
Mellicante nodded sharply. “It’s our best chance. But I don’t know how we’ll get across the river.”
One of the men threw us a suspicious look, so we fell silent once more.
Before long, I caught a whiff of smoke from ahead, and then the roofs of Pelek came into view. It looked like a simple farming town with mud cottages roofed in thatch, sprawling along the western banks of the Elygian River. Up ahead, I could see where the road crossed a bridge over the river. It was the only bridge for leagues, and one of the horsemen already guarded it.
Mellicante cursed under her breath—she must have just noticed the same thing.
As we clumped down the last stretch of road into Pelek, windows began opening and villagers peering out to watch our strange procession. Plagues. This was exactly what we didn’t need—these people might not recognize their queen, but if reports of our party reached Baylore, others might make the connection. Thankfully we had traded our city guard uniforms for simple travelers’ garb in Twenty-League Town. Those would certainly have drawn attention.
The horsemen led us down the main street of town, past knots of staring children and scruffy, dusty dogs, until we reached a run-down inn. Built of stone and mud, the inn was the only building I could see with two stories. The thatch roof was badly in need of replacing—the straw looked as though it was beginning to rot—and the door hung partway off its hinges.
When the horsemen dismounted and marched us through the low door, the barman raised a hand in greeting.
“You found someone,” he said, blinking at us through bleary eyes. “I thought there wasn’t no one else meant to travel these days.”
“Well, this lot claim they’ve got a dying da to visit in Valleywall. We’re gonna keep them under watch here tonight and make sure they’re not lying.”
“Cheers to that. I could do with a bit o’ business.” The innkeeper’s eyes narrowed. “I assume they’ll be paying?”
“Of course,” Baridya said indignantly. “What do you take us for?”
“Hard to know, these days. Strange times. Strange times indeed. You’ll be wantin’ two rooms?”
I glanced swiftly at
Baridya. If we were separated, we might not be able to plan our escape together.
“One room, please, if you have one with enough beds. My ladies-in-waiting can share. I’m not wealthy, good sir.”
The innkeeper grunted, his expression souring. “That’ll be five dravs, and dinner is extra.”
I blinked at him. Five dravs was a pittance, hardly enough to buy a bottle of wine in Baylore. In Ambervale, money had been virtually nonexistent, so the low prices on our journey south to Baylore had meant nothing to me.
“And dinner?” Baridya asked.
“Two dravs apiece.”
“Perfect. Give us a chance to clean up and we will come down to eat.”
The innkeeper hauled himself to his feet and stumped up the sagging stairs at the back of the inn while my companions and I followed, a pair of horsemen trailing behind. He shoved open the door to a dark room with a double bed and two single beds crammed so close I could hardly see a way to walk around them.
“This will do,” Baridya said.
When we filed in and closed the door, Quendon stood right in front of it, arms folded, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
“Oh, don’t be that way,” Baridya teased in a whisper. “It’s not like we’re actually going to sleep in here.”
“That’s right,” I whispered. “We need to get out of here as soon as we can. You’ve spent too much time around me already—you won’t stay awake much longer at this rate.”
In response, Mellicante yawned.
I squeezed around the beds and opened the shutters; the glass-less window looked out over a narrow dirt street lined with houses. “You need to go down to dinner without me—tell the innkeeper I’m feeling ill and can’t join you, and ask him to send up a plate. Stay downstairs as long as you can, until it’s dark, so you don’t have to spend too much time around me. I expect the horsemen will be listening, so keep in character over dinner. As soon as it’s late enough, we jump out the window and run for it.”