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The dungeons were located outside of the keep, and it was a long, awkward walk for both High Councilman and Royal through the busy courtyard and bustling city. Amaryllis opted to remain behind in the keep, refusing to leave the protection of the thick block walls. This was for the best, as the people may have taken issue with a mythical creature marching their leaders to the dungeons.
The odd-looking group dressed in fur, silk, and armor stumbled along the uneven cobblestone path from the keep to the brick building that was used as the dungeons. The busy people of the small city slowly grew still as the arrested High Councilmen made their way, fixated by the curious sight. I will have to get a painting commissioned of this moment, a reminder to all of what happens when you try to steal the Crown.
The dungeon the traitors were being led to was old and worn. The walls of the dungeons had been patched and patched again with mismatched bricks over the generations, and over time, most of the windows had been bricked shut. Much of the metal on the structure was very rusted, down to the bar on the entry door. The building was so ancient that it was rumored that the dungeons were actually the oldest remnant of a fortress, a fortress that had been destroyed several centuries prior to the Castle Myra being built. If this was true (it was common for cities to be constructed over the ruins of another), then the castle had been built over the top of the ruins by her distant ancestors. Try as she may, Veronica could not find any proof to support this, but it still fascinated her.
To add to the dismal scene, smoke was rising thick into the sky from the Forever Green Forest, choking out the sun. The light that lit the courtyard was a shade of orange, making the world seem as worn as the rusted dungeons ahead. Veronica hated to see the fire in the forest still burning. It was a constant reminder of the home that she had just lost to the same flames. She pushed the pain to the back of her mind; there were more pressing issues that she needed to focus on. She gave a straggling Councilman Lucilla a shove with the base of her spear, sending her into a spasm of profanity. Veronica couldn’t deny that the sight of the woman breaking down made her feel a little better. For all her talk of being a real woman, she certainly can curse well. Veronica reaffirmed that her grief would have to be dealt with later. She could not afford to show weakness in front of these traitors.
Nearly all of the Councilmen shouted profanity at the Queen and the Royal Guard as they marched, hands held high, but not Councilman David, Veronica noted. He remained calm and composed and did not look troubled. Some of the High Councilmen attempted to rally the people who paused to gawk at the awkward march. They called upon the onlookers to help them against their captors, but none seemed overly concerned for the politicians. Some Anatolians would look over and give a quick nod, like they knew that it was inevitable that this would happen and that the High Councilmen deserved whatever fate they were bound to meet.
For all the High Councilmen’s blubbering, not one of the traitors tried to run, and for that, Veronica was grateful. Yes, keep marching, you traitors; no incidents, please. I do not want to take another life today. Though Frederick William had been a traitor, Veronica was far from a hardened killer, and what she had been forced to do over the last two days made her feel as if her soul was tearing in two. Every life she took deepened the wound inside of her, and she wondered if, eventually, she would be split into two people: a benevolent Queen and a hardened killer. She did not know how, but if she didn’t find a way to reconcile the weight that the killings placed upon her soul, and soon, she would lose herself to the building blood-lust within.
The guardsman at the dungeon looked confused when their small precession approached. Councilman David, once calm and composed, seized upon the opportunity to make a plea for assistance from the dungeon guards. He began speaking rapidly, jabbing his finger at his captors as he spoke. “Guards, this mad Queen and the Royal guard ha... OOOF.” Veronica had struck before he could say more, her spear pole still elevated and where his head used to be. David collapsed into an undignified pile on the ground, knocked out cold. So much for calm and composed.
Sir Richard laughed loudly. “Serves the traitor right for slandering our fine Queen.” He turned and saluted the dungeon guards. “The entire High Council is to be held on the charge of Treason to the Crown and attempted rebellion. They shall be imprisoned until they can be held on trial for their heinous crimes against Anatolia.”
The two guards saluted Sir Richard back and, without a word, opened the rusted door. The guards, a little forcefully, began seizing the High Councilmen and marching them into the dank prison, locking them away, one by one. Veronica remained tense until all of the traitors were safely locked into their cells, her heart pounding, anticipating an attack from some rogue group to attempt to free the snakes. None came, and when she heard the final clamor of the dungeon door being locked, she half-leaned, half-collapsed against the outside wall of the prison, and breathed deep. “Thank you, Sir Richard and Sir Barbarossa. If it were not for your valiant defense of the Crown, it would be I locked in that dismal cell.”
Both knights snapped to attention, but Richard was the only one to speak, the silent Barbarossa looking on. “It is our honor to protect the crown.” Both knights pounded their jade breastplates then saluted. Barbarossa could barely lift his arm, making his salute even more meaningful.
These men would have been executed if we had failed. They risked everything for the Crown. They could have much more easily betrayed me and have suffered little consequence. It takes a unique man of incredible honor to have risked their life in favor of the disadvantaged side of a political upheaval. I can’t think of any other man I could trust more than these two hardened warriors. An idea materialized in her mind, as the stress of the battle dissipated. “I would like to make you two my advisers.”
Sir Richard looked puzzled over the new charge and title. It didn’t take him long to start grinning broadly, apparently pleased over the promotion. He bowed his head respectfully and answered, “It would be an honor, my Queen.”
When Barbarossa did not answer, Richard smacked him on his injured arm with a clang, making him wince from the pain, and spoke for him, “And Sir Barbarossa would be honored as well. But what exactly would we be advising you on, your Majesty?”
Veronica laughed. “On the art of war. I am the rightful Queen, but I am no soldier. I will need your help and guidance to defeat our adversary. You served with my late husband on many campaigns, and one against him.” She eyed Barbarossa with a twinkle in her eye, who fidgeted uncomfortably before adding, “And I want your guidance on my first.”
“I am honored by your words, my Queen, but the glory of those victories is King Edward’s alone.”
Veronica smiled. “Yes, but it is well known that King Edward listened to council from his trusted advisers, and I would like to be able to follow his example and do the same.”
Sir Barbarossa bowed, and Richard gave a nod.
Veronica smacked her spear onto the cobble resolutely, her strength now returned to her after her brief reprieve. “Good, then it is settled. I will have this historic development announced to the ten Great Cities by courier since the usual messengers,” she motioned towards the dungeons with a smirk, “are most likely going to be executed soon. Meanwhile, we have much to discuss before we can retire tonight. Let us head back to the Great Hall and plan our defense.”
Queen Veronica was painfully aware of the eyes of the many crossbowmen peering down from the tower above as they returned to the keep. She said a silent prayer that they were all loyal to the Crown. A single crossbowman with a well-placed shot could put an end to her reign very quickly. Fortunately, they made it back to the keep without incident, which Veronica thought to be an excellent thing; the High Councilmen’s reach was not as broad as she had initially thought it to be. The Castle Guard were still loyal to the Crown, minus the few men who had already been cut down.
#
This time, Veronica opted to bring her weapon with her to the Great Hall. The corpses of the Castle Guard at the base of the stairs and of Frederick William were there, so freshly dead that they were still warm to the touch. Barbarossa and Richard unceremoniously picked up the dead High Councilman by the arms and legs, carried him clumsily through the demolished doorway, and gave swift orders to have all of the bodies readied for burial. The two then returned to the crescent table, taking their places next to the Queen.
They remained silent, waiting for the Queen to speak. Veronica did not know where to begin. “Well, I believe my priority should be warning our citizens of the army on our soil. We should have couriers sent out at once. Perhaps we could have the people of the weaker cities take shelter within Castle Myra?”
Sir Barbarossa silently arose and gently removed a map of the kingdom from the far wall and brought it back to them.
Sir Richard spread it out in front of them. “Yes, thank you, Sir Barbarossa.” He pointed to the ten cities, one at a time, which were marked by stars and labeled in beautiful calligraphy.
“The border cities, Tarsus, Turhal, and Gordion, have strong fortifications, with strong walls and towers. Turhal, during the recent fortification project, has been outfitted with stationary catapults, an additional curtain wall surrounding the city, and much of the landscape has been altered to slow down the advancement of an enemy force. Many of these border cities have experienced siege and have housed a garrison within their walls, so they are prepared with decent food stores. It would take thousands of men and a siege several months long to take any one of them. The port cities, Patara and Ankara, have several galleys as well as strong fortifications. The rest of the inner cities, Izmir, Sardis, Nerik, and Adana, are less fortunate. They have an organized militia and maybe some retired knights at their disposal. Having them retreat from their homes for the safety of the castle walls is an honorable notion, but the cities are large and populated. We couldn’t house any one of them within the castle walls. There are just too many people.”
“I see. If Sargon has already taken the weaker cities, you would be aware?”
Richard frowned. “Hard to say. If a message was able to get out, yes. But there is an entire army on our soil, and no one has seen or heard about it.” After a sharp look from Veronica, he quickly clarified, “Other than yourself, my Queen.”
“What of the Councilman? Surely one of them would know if their people were being subjugated.”
Richard laughed. “Most of those traitors live here, within the castle, or in wealthy Ankara. You give those vipers too much credit, my Queen. They care about their people only because of the power they get from being a Councilman.”
“Perhaps Sargon’s forces are not as numerous as I believed. The soldiers I encountered on the way back to the castle were clearing trees to make passage for wagons. I overheard some of Sargon’s men verify my assumption that they were full of supplies for his army.”
Richard nodded. “And how far away from Castle Myra was this encounter?”
“It took a half-day non-stop ride to get here, but it is hard to judge how a normal army would be able to advance in comparison. When you’re traveling by unicorn, you can move effortlessly across the thickest terrain, and the speeds at which you travel are astonishing! It’s like you are falling forward, and everything that would be a barrier to a person simply moves out of your path.”
Amaryllis stomped her front hooves and brayed proudly.
Sir Richard nodded, “If the enemy was that close, we may be able to scout them out and discover their movements within a few days. It is particularly important that we learn as much as we can about these vermin before we fight.” Richard turned and looked up at the silent Amaryllis, thoughtful. “If only our brave ambassador were able to speak to us. We are going into battle blind without her council.” He turned back to Veronica. “My Queen, how were you able to speak to her?” He stiffened and shivered. “Witchcraft of some kind?”
Veronica laughed. “No witchcraft, Sir Richard. It was quite simple, really. The light of the full moon had to be upon her body. Then she was able to communicate in our tongue.”
Amaryllis bobbed her head in agreement. Richard turned to Barbarossa and snapped his fingers. “Perhaps there is a way we can hear from the ambassador once more! Barbarossa, what was that strange white gemstone you have on your pommel? I recall you calling it a moonstone?”
Barbarossa carefully drew his slender sword and laid it flat across the map in front of them. The blade was curved slightly and was only sharpened on a single side. It had a short round guard with its pommel topped with a large milky white stone. The stone was translucent and polished well. Veronica was astonished at how close the color resembled the moon in the night sky. Perhaps this could work!
Richard turned back to Amaryllis. “Perhaps if we touch the stone to her, it will allow her to speak once more.” He picked up the sword and held the stone out towards her. Amaryllis seemed apprehensive but still moved close enough for Richard to be able to place it lightly upon the side of her neck.
Amaryllis stood there awkwardly with the moonstone on her neck. None of the magical purple glow that had appeared on her coat while talking in the cave was visible. The unicorn looked like she was deep in thought but remained silent. Finally, she shook her head and stepped back away from the stone, and blew air through her lips.
Richard’s countenance fell. “Bother.” He thrust the sword handle at Barbarossa. “I suppose we will not be needing this useless thing any longer. You can take your strange bent sword back.” Barbarossa rolled his eyes and placed the sword back in its scabbard. Veronica chuckled at Richard’s brashness.
Veronica, still feeling the stress from the situation, was not in the mood to waste time with the futile pursuit of getting Amaryllis to speak. “If there was some artifact or stone to grant Amaryllis the ability to speak, I’m sure her people would have sent her with one on her person. Since they did not, I do not believe there is a way to shortchange the lunar cycle. We will simply have to wait until the full moon returns to us. That being said, how fast will we be able to build an army to counter Sargon?”
Sir Richard held up his fingers one by one as he listed off their forces. “We have the castle guard at our disposal! Four hundred strong, seasoned men and a hundred heavy cavalry, many of whom have served under King Edward during past campaigns. It is just our luck that the late Frederick William had them armed to the teeth when he began his stewardship of Castle Myra—quite the paranoid fellow, that one. There are the galleys at the port cities, which don’t do us much good here. The catapults we had here at Castle Myra were re-purposed for the fortification of Turhal.”
Veronica looked to Amaryllis, silently asking if they could dare to hope to fend off Sargon with the little forces that they had. She blew raspberries in response, spraying Richard and Veronica with spittle. She grimaced and began wiping the spit from her face with her hand but was suddenly stopped by a silent Barbarossa, who offered her a fresh handkerchief off his person, which she accepted gracefully. “Apparently, that is not enough men to defend the castle against Sargon.”
Richard, who wasn’t so lucky to have a handkerchief for himself, finished wiping the spit from his face and armor. He cleared his throat, annoyed that his armor had been disrespected, and shot a glare at the unicorn. “There are a few defenders at the border and port cities, but to build an army, we would require several months for recruitment, training, and arming new soldiers, not to mention the time it would take to combine this force with our own.”
Veronica was shocked. “Several months? And there is no hope to accelerate this process? What of a Call to Arms?”
“That is with an official Call to Arms, my Queen.”
Veronica could not believe her ears. How could we be caught so wholly unprepared? “I don’t believe that is the best that can be done. King Edward had no trouble assembling an army when the Phoenicians invaded.”
“There have been many years of peace, my Queen. The army has dwindled in the years since the last campaign as the men moved on to more fulfilling assignments.”
“Fulfilling?”
“Life as a soldier is dull when there is no one to fight. With all due respect, my Queen, that history of Edward’s triumph over the Phoenicians is inaccurate. The Phoenician campaign was brought to a quick resolution, but it still took several months for armies to be raised and the war to be won.”
Veronica sighed and rubbed her temples. The stress and exertion from the day were setting in again as the sunlight dimmed, blocked by a stray cloud, leaving the Great Hall darkened. Barbarossa lit a nearby candle and placed it next to the map in front of them.
Veronica sighed and shook her head. “I do not see the need for a candle, Sir Barbarossa. This map does us no good as no men are available to us.” She arose, her knees a little shaky underneath her. “I command a Call to Arms to be delivered to all ten Great Cities, with a direct order to all who have served in King Edward’s army to report to the Castle Myra immediately. Additional scouts are to be sent to the lands surrounding the castle, to return no later than by tomorrow morning. We need to know the number of our foes and where they are located within a night’s march of the castle. It is growing late, and I must rest. Bar the castle gates; do not allow any to enter without a thorough search. May Rhea bless us with fortune so that we will have some knowledge of our enemy come morning.”
Richard and Barbarossa bowed low, and Richard replied, “Yes, the scouts will ride out at once. I know just the women to send, the swiftest riders in the land.”
“Thank you. Please have Caroline bring a fruitcake, cheese, and bread to my bed-chambers. I need to eat so I can regain my strength.”
The reply came again, “Yes, my Queen.” Veronica moved slowly from the room and exited the Great Hall in somewhat of a daze. We are caught entirely unprepared for a war. I wish Edward were here; he would know what to do. She groggily climbed the tall staircase, each step labored, with Amaryllis following closely behind. She entered the room she had fled from a month earlier and began removing her armor, laying it on the floor this time instead of on the bed. Her limbs were tired before, but now they were fatigued to the point of a resonating and persistent ache. She tried to massage her own muscles, wincing from the pressure.
#
A knock came at the door. It was Caroline, the tall, slender, worn but beautiful-looking young woman, her black hair tied into a bun behind her head. The woman towered over the Queen, filling the doorway of the bedchamber as she entered, silver tray with food in her hands. Though she looked harmless enough, Veronica knew that Caroline lived to spread secrets. She treated each new tantalizing morsel of gossip like they were currency, earning her favor with the other servants by cunningly betraying trust.
This forced Veronica to be silent, and to be overly cautious about any correspondence she might receive that she did not want to share with the entire kingdom. Not many handmaids were literate in Anatolia, and although Caroline had never mentioned her ability to read before, Veronica was very suspicious that she was. She had been stewing over the events at the Castle Myra before her hasty departure for weeks now, and there had been a few instances where secrets were shared that, as far as she knew, had only been discoverable via correspondence she had received. The more recent letter she had received from that pompous potential suitor, the Phoenician King, Alfonso, had only been one of the times information had been leaked to the servants from confidential letters.
He had been very forward in his message, and the dangerous rumor about an affair started spreading only after Caroline had brought the letter to me. She had lacked the proof to discuss it with Caroline at the time, but now, after so many weeks of working out the details in her head, she felt justified to terminate her position. If she wished to be an effective ruler and to protect her reign, she could no longer afford to keep toxic, untrustworthy people in her trust. Veronica decided she needed to find a new handmaid, evidence or not. I refuse to live as I once lived. I will not be forced into silence. Any who opposes my rule needs to be removed from my service.
Caroline seemed happy to see her but eyed the holey work dress that Veronica had worn under her armor incredulously. “It is good to see you, my Queen.” She placed the tray of food on the bottom of the bed, knelt on the floor in front of her, and bowed her head. “I am here to serve you, Queen Veronica. What are your commands?”
Even while kneeling, her head comes up to my shoulders! “I require my armor polished and returned to me by morning. I also need a dressmaker sent to my bedchamber to be fitted with a new wardrobe.”
Caroline rose to her feet quickly and answered, “Yes, my Queen,” before leaving the room in a flash. Veronica took the fruitcake from the silver platter and gave it to Amaryllis, who was in her place by the hearth. Amaryllis ate it slowly with a smile on her face, savoring every fruity bite.
Before Veronica could start on her dinner, she overheard some hushed talking outside of the door, and after three light and brisk knocks, a small group of servant women entered her room, each bowing to Veronica as they entered. They then began on the task at hand, carefully gathering up her armor to be polished. They acted oddly as they collected the armor, as if they were gathering up an injured bird. One of the women moved to take her spear from where it was leaning against the wall, but looked to Veronica to know if she wanted it cleaned and polished as well. Veronica shook her head no, and the woman moved on, not giving the weapon a second thought. They left just as fast as they had entered and closed the door behind them. There was still blood from Frederick on the spear, but Veronica didn’t feel like she should clean that off just yet. Frederick William was a traitor, and the people need to see what happens to traitors under my rule.
Veronica sat on the edge of the bed and began slicing the cheese and eating. She had been so nervous throughout this incredibly long day that she had not realized how hungry she had been. Amaryllis also seemed to perk up, morale restored.
“Now that I know that you can speak to me in my own tongue, it is difficult for me to accept that you can’t talk to me all the time. I wish we could find a way to talk to one another outside the light of the full moon.”
Amaryllis, who was finishing the last bite of her fruit cake, nodded.
“Well, you can understand me, at least, even if I can’t understand you. Do you know how large Sargon’s army is?”
Amaryllis nodded.
“Is it larger than a thousand men?”
Amaryllis snorted and nodded.
“Larger than five thousand? “
Another nod.
“Larger than ten thousand? “
Amaryllis shook her head no. Queen Veronica couldn’t even fathom an army that massive. Ten thousand men! That was more people than lived in Izmir! It makes our garrison of five hundred look pathetic. No wonder Sargon isn’t worried about whether or not he can take the castle. Not even stone walls can stand for long against an army that large. “How can he manage an army that large? How does he feed that many? That seems completely unbelievable.”
Amaryllis shrugged, then made her horn glow.
“Virtuuce. Of course, he used Virtuuce to provide for so many.” She sliced another chunk of cheese and bread and ate them while she thought.
“Do you know if Sargon can run out of Virtuuce like you can?”
Another nod.
“So, if we can get him to overextend himself, he won’t be able to supply his army.” A glimmer of hope began to form in Veronica’s heart. Most of the whirlwind that had taken place over the last few days had been too much for her to take in. There was too much information, trauma, and stress to be able to understand what path she needed to take to protect her people. The size of Sargon’s army is incredible, but that could also be his greatest weakness. Amaryllis had run out of Virtuuce just by deflecting a few arrows and fighting five soldiers. Surely Sargon was weaker than a true Virtuusian?
Veronica finished her meal, then pulled her worn work dress over her head, leaving her bare. She looked into the large mirror against the wall and examined herself. She had thinned, but her body was impressive and robust. She could see that her legs and her arms had both grown in size, while her waist had dwindled down to reveal the muscle underneath. She flexed and watched how her muscles moved. I am strong. When things get hard, I have to remember that. I have to believe in myself and my body, that it has the strength to carry the weight of a kingdom on its shoulders. I am strong.
She left the mirror and climbed into her bed, sliding down beneath the bedding. The softness was unbelievable. She felt her body relax instantly and had a sensation like she was sinking into a cloud. Her eyelids grew very heavy. “Goodnight, Amaryllis. Get some sleep. There is much left to do.” Veronica closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.