winter is coming,” she said, and gave an almost exaggerated shudder.
“I forgot,” smiled Alloria, touching Mary’s shoulder. “You hate the ice.”
“Yes. It reminds me too much of childhood.”
“Never fear. In a week Leanoric will have finished his training, and the volunteer regiments will be standing down for winter leave; he will meet us back at Iopia Palace and there will be a great feast. Fires and fireworks will burn and sparkle for a week; then, then you will feel warm, my Mary.”
Mary nodded, still very close to Alloria. “I will never be as warm as when I am with you, my queen,” she said, voice little more than a whisper.
Alloria smiled, and placed a finger on Mary’s lips. “Shh, little one. This is not the place for such conversation. Come, walk with me back to my chambers; I’ve had a wonderful blue frall-silk dress delivered, and was wondering how well it will fit.”
They walked, arm in arm, along stone and marble paved walkways, between sculpted stone pillars and under roof-trellises filled with roses and winter honeysuckle. Scents filled the air, and Alloria closed her eyes, wishing she was back with her husband, her king, her lover, her hero. She smiled, picturing his smile, feeling his hands on her body. She shivered, then, as a ghost walked over her grave.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I am just thinking of Leanoric. I miss him.”
“He is a fine husband,” said Mary. “Such strength! One day, perhaps, I will find such a man.”
“Erran has been watching you, I think.”
“My lady!” Mary blushed furiously and lowered her eyes. “I fear you are mistaken.”
“Not so. I have seen him watching you, watching the way you walk, the sway of your hips, the rising of your breast when you have run an errand. I think he is in love.”
Erran was the Captain of the Guard at the Autumn Palace, thirty-two years old, single, muscular, attractive in a dark, flashing way. He was gallant, noble, and one of the finest swordsmen in Leanoric’s Legions; hence his placement of trust in protecting Queen Alloria.
“You jest,” Mary said, eventually.
“Come, let us ask him!”
“No, Alloria!” gasped Mary, and Alloria let out a giggle, breaking away from the younger woman and running up a flight of marble steps. At the summit two guards stood to attention carrying long spears tipped by savage barbs. They stared, eyes ahead, as Alloria approached and swept between them, skirts hissing over inlaid gems in the gold-banded floor.
“Erran! Erran!”
He arrived in a few heartbeats, at a run, hand on sword-hilt. “Yes, my queen?”
“Do not worry, there is no alarm. I have a simple question for you.”
Mary arrived, panting a little, and Alloria saw Erran’s eyes drift longingly over Mary, then flicker back to her face, a question in his eyes, a sense of duty restored. “I will do my best, my queen.”
“No,” whispered Mary.
“I wondered if you’d found replacement guards for the two men taken sick last week? It leaves us with a force of only eighteen in the palace grounds.”
“Word has been sent to the nearest town, my queen. Replacements are riding even as we speak from the local garrison. I have the captain’s personal guarantee that he sent two of his finest men.”
“Good! When will they arrive?”
“Later this evening, I believe,” said Erran, with a smile of reassurance. “Have faith in those who serve you, my queen.”
“I do, Erran. I do.” Her smile was dazzling and she moved towards her chambers beneath arches of alabaster, steel and marble. Behind, the bloated shimmering sun was sinking over the horizon, and near-horizontal beams cast a rich ruby ambience throughout the Autumn Palace. Mary followed, a hand on Alloria’s arm, her face flushed red.
Erran stood stiffly to attention. “My queen,” he said.
“Oh, one more thing.” She turned, suddenly. “Mary here is feeling a little flushed, a little tired. I wondered if you might walk with her, out in the gardens? Give her maybe an hour of your time? She would greatly appreciate it.”
“I would…be honoured, my queen. But I am on duty.”
“I am taking you off duty.”
Erran gave a crooked smile. “And who would do my job whilst I walk in the gardens?”
“Oh hush, there are guards everywhere, man, and I am but a few heartbeats away. I have lungs, do I not? And I was trained by Elias, Leanoric’s Sword-Champion. I am not as fragile as many people assume.” She grinned, her eyes twinkling. “I could beat you, I’d wager.”
Erran smiled broadly. “I know this, my queen,” he said. “I have seen you best three of my men with a blade. The humiliation stung my pride like a horsewhip! But-”
“No buts. This is a direct order,” said the queen. “And I would hate to inform Leanoric you disobeyed a direct order.”
Erran snapped a salute. “As you wish, Queen Alloria.” He turned, and smiled at Mary, who seemed suddenly incapable of speech. “If you would like to follow me, my lady? I will escort you for fresh air.”
Mary nodded, threw a scowl at Alloria, and departed, her silk slippers silent on marble steps.
Alone now, Alloria entered her chambers and closed the doors. She loved to be alone, without guards or hand-maidens, without servants or lackeys. She knew attendance came with her position, and this made her crave solitude even more…except at night, in the cold dark hours, when she would cry out for Leanoric, missing him terribly, missing their two sons, Oliver and Alexander, aged twelve and fourteen, who were travelling with their father learning the Art of Warcraft.
No. In the darkness, Mary would come and climb into bed with Alloria, and they would hold each other, sharing warmth, sharing the simple comfort of human contact, and Alloria knew that Mary loved her, knew that Mary loved her in a way slightly accelerated from the contact and comfort Alloria craved, and that Mary treasured those nights they spent, only thin layers of silk and cotton between their firm, sleep-warmed bodies. But Alloria belonged to Leanoric, her king, her one true love, her hero and soldier and lover and father and husband, a man, a real true strong man, who…
The image flashed like lightning, piercing in her mind.
The Betrayal.
She stumbled a little, righted herself, and gasping ran to a stand and poured water into a goblet. She drank, greedily, then slapped the cup down, panting, cursing herself for having a memory, or at least, having a memory of those terrible days and weeks when she had No, don’t say it, don’t even think of it… it did not happen; it was a dream, a bad dream.
Why had she done such a terrible thing to the man she loved? Her husband? The father of her children?
And he had forgiven her. Her smile was cracked as she looked at herself in the silver mirror. Her eyes had lost their green fire. She blinked away tears, found inner strength, and reached towards a tiny stone jar. Her hand paused over the jar, which was intricately decorated with ancient battle scenes and heroes from Falanor’s long turbulent history.
“No.” Her word seemed loud, and cracked, in the echoing empty chamber, despite the proliferation of hanging silks and furs and the many tapestries which adorned walls, again depicting the history of Falanor.
Her hand moved away from the jar and hovered, uncertainly, for a moment; she felt weakness flood her, rising from her toes to her brain like the sweep of an Elder wand, and her hand snaked out, knocked the lid clumsily from the jar which clattered to the marble table-top. Alloria refrained from cursing, and didn’t look inside the jar, simply wetting her finger and dipping it into the dark blue powder therein. She stared at her green eyes in the mirror as she rubbed the powder under her tongue, instantly enjoying the relaxing honey of blue karissia entering her blood, entering her mind, and she knew it was weakness and a certain specific horror from her past that made her indulge in this rare drug, and that was no excuse, but it was something she had come to rely on during the old days and the bad days when things had seemed so unclear and seemed to go so wrong. Blue karissia pulsed in her, flowed with her heartbeat, and the world swayed and quickly Alloria slipped from her shawl and dress and climbed into bed to fall instantly asleep, her dreams filled with colour and beauty and an enveloping blue.
