WILLEM AND I rode side by side the next morning, enjoying our companionship. I caught several significant looks from Annet, but no one else seemed to notice.
We traveled under a blistering sun, and it was still only May. Often, we saw distant fires, spread by dry weather.
At every village we were met by angry and worried Lakti citizens. In some villages, fighting had broken out. A few of the Lakti had been killed, but more of us Bamarre.
Whenever we stopped, Queen Mother announced the lifting of the Beneficences. She promised the return of the Bamarre youth and rode on without waiting to see how her news had been received. Her purpose was to speed to the troops that King Tove had sent to quell the rebellion. I wondered how many of the Bamarre they’d killed. Hundreds, certainly.
After she called off the soldiers, she and Sir Lerrin would ride to the battlefront and sign a truce.
In the middle of the afternoon, a dark haze rose in the road ahead. When we got closer, it resolved to a mass of fifty or more Bamarre folk, raising dust, tassels swinging, marching to the Eskerns.
They stopped and faced us defiantly, but Queen Mother merely nodded and rode on. However, Annet stayed to speak with them. Half an hour later, she galloped up and rejoined us.
That night, Queen Mother drew me away from the campfire before we all lay down to sleep. By torchlight, she led me to the top of a gentle rise. Together, we faced out into the night.
I thanked her for protecting me from King Tove. “Begging your pardon, you shouldn’t have taken me.” All those years ago.
“If I hadn’t, how pale my life would have been.”
Mine would have had different hues, and I would almost certainly be in servitude right now. “You were an excellent Lakti mother.” My nod to her.
I added, “I didn’t tell Willem I was Bamarre until after Lord Tove had imprisoned me.”
She took that in. “I see.” Then, “You may marry him.” Her voice was flat.
“Willem?” She approved? I smiled, though I would have married him anyway.
“Yes.” She turned to face me. “I’ve changed my idea of a proper Lakti husband.” Another pause. “And father.”
I pitied her.
She smiled. “And a princess doesn’t need an advantageous marriage.”
Didn’t she realize? “I’m going through the pass.”
Her smile became a grimace.
I added, trying not to sound glad, “To fight monsters.”
“Of course. You’re a warrior, and we’ll need other skills here.”
Skills that neither of us had. I wondered how she’d manage but put the thought aside. We who crossed would have troubles of our own.
The next morning, I sat with Sir Lerrin while we broke our fast.
“I’m going to cross the Eskerns.”
“Never be a queen?”
“Probably not.”
He smiled. “We Kyngoll are willing to be wrong. We’re not stiff-necked.”
Stiff-necked about their superiority over the Lakti, I thought. Maybe he’d learn otherwise.
Later, when we set out, Annet and I rode side by side, and I enjoyed the ease that had grown up between us.
“I’m really your sister, you know.”
I didn’t understand.
She smiled. “And Drualt’s sister, too. I enjoyed killing the gryphon and chopping off the ogre’s hand.”
I smiled back. “Good.” She’d be happy in the new Bamarre.
We rode in silence for a few minutes until she said, “I won’t mind leaving New Lakti.”
“It’s beautiful beyond the Eskerns, not where we were, but farther south.” Still, I thought, New Lakti is beautiful, too. I would miss it.
Three days later we reached Gavrel. To my family’s relief and mine, the village had fared better than any we’d passed. In hopes of more gold when we returned, the Ships had been conciliatory to their Bamarre and had insisted that the widow and the two soldiers behave as they did. No fields were burning. No one else had been flogged, and no one had been killed.
Lady Mother and I parted there. She’d ride on to the battlefront and the future of the kingdom. I’d leave for the Eskerns from here. We stood awkwardly outside my parents’ cottage while Sir Noll and Sir Lerrin waited at a respectful distance. She must have been reluctant to leave, and I could hardly bear losing her forever.
“What would we do if I were a Bamarre?” she asked.
“We’d hug. We’d kiss. We’d weep.”
She held out her arms, and I went into them. She held me for a long minute, stroking my hair, my cheek, my ear. “Daughter, don’t stop being a part-Lakti. It will keep you safe.”
I promised. She mounted her horse and rode off without looking back. I wiped tears away before entering my parents’ cottage.
I donned my tassel again. Poppi introduced me to the village as his stolen daughter, and Mama revealed that I had already lived among them as Aunt Nadira. The greatest source of wonder seemed to be that I had been raised a Lakti and had still been able to cook delicious cheese puffs!
Two weeks later, an hour before sunset, my family, Prince Bruce, Willem, Goodman Meerol (who had recovered enough to travel), and I reached the base camp. On the way, Drualt had won the friendship of Prince Bruce. My merry and bighearted brother, as no one else, could banish the worry stamped on the prince’s face. When they weren’t side by side, Prince Bruce followed Drualt with his eyes, finding comfort in my brother’s robust form.
We’d gathered people as we marched through a countryside that still blazed. At the camp near the pass we found even more Bamarre. In total, we were five hundred. A few had bows and arrows; some had rakes and pitchforks, some butcher’s knives. I’d used the coins and plate from Old Lakti to buy arms, armor, and donkeys on our way here, but not nearly enough. Those with weapons would have to protect those without.
The Lakti soldiers followed Queen Mother’s order and didn’t trouble us. They must have been surprised to see their crown princess wearing a tassel, but no one questioned me.
Night fell. Willem and I sat with the Gavrel Bamarre, some of us on rock outcroppings, some on the ground. I was wondering aloud if the sorcerers had stayed in Old Lakti when I smelled peonies. A whorl of light spun in the center of our circle.
Gasps ran through the throng of us.
Drualt laughed. “It’s the fairy again.”
When she took her human shape, she beamed her brightest smile at me. “You didn’t disappoint me after all.”
Willem bowed low. Along with the soldiers, he was the first Lakti to see a fairy in hundreds of years, but when he straightened, his face was cheerful, not awed. “If you were surprised, you didn’t notice that Perry always does what’s right.”
Oh, my!
He went on. “Will you visit us across the Eskerns?”
“Fairies will visit. I’ll be among them.”
“Can we conquer the monsters?” I asked.
“They still trouble the elves and dwarfs and sorcerers. But you’ll prosper if you’re determined, if you keep fighting back. I wish—”
Willem took my hand. “Will you come to our wedding once we’re settled?”
Oh! I squeezed his hand.
But I wanted to know. “Halina, you started a wish.” It might be important. “What do you wish?”
“I wish you very well.”
Oh. Naturally. She didn’t have to wish. She could kill all the monsters, but I knew she wouldn’t.
“And I’ll preside over your wedding.” She vanished. The peony scent lingered, then dissolved.
I woke before dawn. Annet slept near me, but when I sat up, she woke, too. I gestured to her, and she followed me a few yards beyond the sleepers. We faced the black shape of the Eskerns and whispered together.
A few hours later, we began the ascent, led, as Annet and I had arranged it, by Drualt with Prince—soon to be King—Bruce. Hands joined, climbing together, Annet and I recited in unison:
“Out of a land laid waste
To a land untamed,
Monster ridden,
The lad Drualt led
A ruined, ragtag band.
In his arms, tenderly,
He carried Bruce,
The child king,
First ruler of Bamarre.”
We reached the pass, crossed into Bamarre, and tossed our tassels behind us.