The Queen's Gambit: Book One of Imirillia (The Books of Imirillia 1) (26 page)

“Where’s your father?” Aurrey asked the child.

“In the shop.” The girl pointed towards an open door in the back.

“I’m here,” a man said as he passed through, wiping his hands clean on a rag. He was a solid man, neither short nor tall, with a wave of light brown hair and an intelligent face that had not been shaved in several days. He looked from Wil to Aurrey and back again.

“This is Wil,” Aurrey said, nodding towards Wil as she added a dried herb to the soup. “He’s the one I told you about, who helped on the battle run. Wil, this is my husband, Haide.”

Haide stepped forward and extended a hand. “Pleasure,” he said.

“Your wife found me wandering Ainsley and kindly invited me to have your meal with you.”

“She’s always bringing in the strays,” Haide said and gave a half smile. “Sit then, and make yourself well in my house. The day is long, and good company will be pleasant.”

Wil sat. There was only a small table in the corner, where Aurrey worked as she finished her preparations, but there were chairs enough for all. The girl, after being chided several times by Aurrey, gathered a stack of clean bowls and spoons from a cupboard, carrying them precariously to the table.

The simple meal was served, and the conversation remained light. The young girl, whose name Wil discovered was Anna, sat next to him and stared at his face while he ate. Wil swallowed a bite of soup and smiled in return. Instead of looking away shyly, she was encouraged by his attention.

“Why is your skin almost burned?” she asked.

“Anna!” Aurrey chided.

But Wil laughed, lifting his olive-skinned arm. “Burned?” he asked. “My brothers mock me for how fair my skin is.”

This did not appear to satisfy Anna.

“I am from the North,” Wil answered. “Where little girls like you have sun-filled skin and black eyes, bright as the night sky. I might ask you why your skin is so pale. Are you a ghost?”

Anna shook her head.

“Strange,” Wil said. “I could almost see right through you.”

“Your eyes are blue, not black,” she informed Wil, as if worried that he may not know.

“Yes, as were my mother’s.”

“Leave the poor man to eat,” Haide said, leaning back in his chair with an empty bowl in his hand. “Take your brother, and you can play in the street until dark.”

The children scurried outside, and Aurrey began to clean up.

“What news of the meetings between the queen and the fen lords? Is it war we’re marching for?” Haide asked, as if the question had been waiting only for him to finish eating his meal.

“I don’t know,” Wil said, thanking Aurrey as she refilled his empty bowl. “They are still in discussion, and I am not privy.”

“I’ve heard tell of your role on the battle run: the man experienced with combat, the Imirillian soldier who pledged himself to help the queen.” Haide paused over these words before continuing. “What are your thoughts?”

“Surrender is your only option,” Wil said.

Haide harrumphed. “It would have to be desperate indeed for Aemogen to surrender its sovereignty.”

“It is,” Wil replied. “The odds are impossible.”

A hard look settled in Haide’s face.

“What?” Wil asked between spoonfuls of soup.

“I would be interested to know how the queen feels, is all,” Haide said. “Despite the impossible odds.”

“I don’t know her mind for certain,” Wil said. “But, she seems bent on fighting. She most certainly will not listen to my advice that she surrender.”

Haide smiled and scratched his chin. “I’m ready to fight,” he said. “And, I would follow my queen to war.”

Wil waited for Haide to say more.

“A foreign invasion would destroy Aemogen,” Haide explained. “We are a unique country, tucked away, quiet and all. But, we fight hard to live such a life in such a place, and our heritage is deep. I would rather die, trying to save Aemogen for my children, than live and see it change. But, I can see by your face that you don’t agree.”

Wil looked down into his soup then up again, tilting his head and considering Haide. “Surely, it is better that you live and provide for your children,” Wil began, “than that you die for a battle that cannot be won?”

“Here, here,” Aurrey said from the table, her back to the conversation.

“Like I said,” Haide replied. “I would know the queen’s mind before deciding what is impossible and what isn’t.” Haide settled back in his chair and remained quiet for some time before speaking. “Have you heard of the heart of Ainorra Breagha?”

Aurrey took Wil’s empty bowl, and he thanked her. “Queen Eleanor told me one legend at the Barrows of Ainse,” he said, leaning forward in his chair, towards the fire. The evening air tasted strangely cool for late summer.

Haide nodded. “The stories say that her heart knew things,” he explained. “A few years after she had come to New Ainsley, our Ainsley, Ainorra Breagha felt a warning against the spring and asked all of Ainsley not to plant their crops. Now,” Haide said, scratching his arm and looking Wil in the eyes, “to tell an Aemogen man not to plant is to tell him not to breathe. We come from this earth, and we will go into it—it’s our nature. The planting season was ripe and ready, and you must plant on time,” he explained. “For, when winter comes, it comes sharp. We’ve no time for an extended harvest. But, Ainorra Breagha asked the men not to plant.”

“Did they listen?” Wil asked.

“Most did, but some did not. Time passed,” Haide continued. “And, after a month, the rumors flew that the queen was crazy. Never had a fairer season been seen, and the few planted crops did well. Weeks passed, but then, a storm came in from the southern sea. It was a vile thing, hard and cold. Blossoms froze right on the trees as it beat upon the land: all snow and hail,” he explained. “The crops planted were lost, every one. After the storm passed, Ainorra Breagha told her people to plant.”

“And those who lost their crops learned their lesson and went without,” Wil guessed.

“Their neighbors shared, of course, but learn a lesson they did.” Haide shrugged. “It may be only a story to you, but we Aemogen’s know better. And Queen Eleanor reminds us all of Ainorra Breagha. They are the only reigning queens in the history of Aemogen, which is why Eleanor is named after her.”

The evening was settling around them. Aurrey had gone to the door to speak with some women in the street, leaving the men to their conversation.

“I hadn’t realized that she was,” Wil said.

“A daughter, born first, after seven hundred years?” Haide said. “You better believe she was.”

“And so if Eleanor felt, despite all the impossibility, that Aemogen’s best interests were to fight, you should follow—”

“I would, proudly,” Haide insisted. “She is a good monarch, and I love her for it.”

Wil creased his forehead. “You almost speak as if she were your daughter.”

“She is,” Haide said. “The queen is daughter, mother, and sister to us all. We honor her, and she us. I remember the morning of her coronation—she was a young start,” Haide laughed. “They all were. Councillor Aedon, too, was just barely a man: intelligent, but young. The king had intended to train him up a good ten, fifteen years, if not more. But, when he died unexpected—” Haide said, lifting his hands.

“So, there we were,” he continued. “With a slip of a queen and the head councillor just more than a boy himself—children, really. After the ceremony, Queen Eleanor stood and said, in a small voice, ‘I will give all my heart to you. Will you do the same for me?’ That crowd cheered longer than any I’d ever heard. She was smart and good and had spent her life preparing. The queen was ready.”

“Surely, she has made mistakes in her youth,” Wil said.

“And I make mistakes as a man,” Haide answered practically. “The people do not hold her mistakes against her, and she does not hold ours against us. It’s a contract, you see. She reigns by contract: we give our best to her, and she gives her best to us,” he explained. “That is what we speak of. If one party falls short today, well, we know to rise up and better ourselves for tomorrow.”

Wil rubbed his hand across his face and leaned back in his chair. “So, you do not believe that she reigns with divine right?” he asked.

Haide laughed and shrugged. “I, personally, don’t think God cares,” Haide said. “If I were a king, I might think differently though. Be it gods or ghosts who put her there, if she stays true to us, I will follow her, for I have seen what other countries are.”

“Have you traveled?” Wil asked, surprised. He ran his eyes over Haide again. “Most don’t leave their fen, let alone Aemogen.”

Haide raised his eyebrows in agreement. “I’m a cobbler, a shoemaker,” he said. “To you, it sounds simple, I see. But, I am good at what I do. You might even say that my wares are popular. I travel the fens every year, twice going into Marion. As a younger man, unmarried with the world before me, I traveled all the countries of the West before settling home again.”

“And you chose Aemogen?”

Haide grinned. “I chose Aurrey. Aemogen came with her.”

Wil laughed. As if on cue, Aurrey came in through the doorway. “The children are off down playing games,” she said. “They’ll be a fright come bedtime. What are you both grinning at?” she asked, glaring at Haide.

“My reason for staying,” Haide replied.

“I’ll be your reason for going if you don’t stay in line.” She gathered some mending from a basket and settled down near her husband. “Tell us of the battle run, Wil. I’ve collected all the stories to be found in Ainsley,” she explained. “But my, is what they say of South Mountain fen true? Tell us from your own eyes.”

Wil told the tale, and as he spoke of Thistle Black, finally giving his allegiance, she laughed.

“Never met the man,” she said, “but, he seems to be filled with his own self, now doesn’t he?”

“Queen Eleanor did well,” Haide approved. “But, it’s wise she does not treat the other fens so.”

“Why ever not?” Wil asked as he glanced out the open doorway. It was full dark, and the sounds of children could be heard down the street.

“I’ll say it this way,” Haide said, gesturing with his hands. “My mother—”

“Oh!” Aurrey rolled her eyes. “Why we have to talk about your mother, I’ll never know.”

Haide chuckled. “When my mother comes by the house, she calls Aurrey out on things fast, and Aurrey bristles. But, sometimes when she comes and praises Aurrey for what she’s done, my wife is suddenly glad that I’ve a mother, and before the day’s out, is asking her for advice.”

“True enough,” Aurrey conceded.

“That is the nature of the Aemogen people,” Haide continued. “It always has been. We don’t do well with forced criticism, or by having someone impose themselves on us. But, if given the space, we will choose loyalty and be grateful too. Our monarchs have done well because they understand our temperament.”

“What is she like?” Aurrey asked, interrupting Haide.

“Who? The queen?” Wil frowned.

Aurrey blushed. “It’s only that people are saying the two of you are familiar,” she said. “And, I’ve never spoken with her myself.”

It was uncomfortable for Wil to answer this question. Or, perhaps, it was the implication of the question. He looked again towards the door then back at the floor.

“The man doesn’t want to answer the question, Aurrey,” Haide said. “Let him be.”

“I don’t mind telling what I think the queen to be like.” Wil pulled his mouth to the side for just a moment before continuing. “I find her very thoughtful, determined, patient, and more intense than one would think, but she controls it so well that one would hardly know. Though, I believe I have learned something of her here, tonight, I had not understood previously.”

To Wil’s relief, Haide picked up the question. “Last year, I was traveling between fens and found myself on the same road with Councillor Aedon. I asked him about the queen and what she was like. He thought awhile and said, ‘She carries ten thoughts in her head at all times but will only give you two of them. The rest you must discover.’”

Wil smiled.

The evening soon ended, with Aurrey gathering her children in for bed and Haide offering to make Wil a new pair of boots.

“The front of my shop lets out on the street behind,” Haide explained. “Come by anytime you can. I don’t know how long I will keep it open if it’s come to war.”

They parted with a handshake and friendly words before Wil stepped into the darkness. He thought about what Haide had said, about the people and their relationship with Eleanor. Wil liked Haide: a sound man, articulate in his opinion whether Wil agreed with him or not.

For a moment, as Wil walked up towards Ainsley Rise in the dark, he envisioned Haide, sword in hand, being swallowed up by the Imirillian army that waited at the pass and left for dead. The young prince leaned in the shadows against a wall, wiping his forehead on his sleeve, his hands shaking. I must distance myself from these people, he thought. All of them.

***

Torches lit the south Ainsley stairs, and Wil took them two at a time, slipping into the castle gates, just before they were to close for the night. He was turning left, towards the travelers’ house, when one of Crispin’s solders grabbed his arm.