Firebrand

“I had no doubts,” the captain said.

Karigan warmed in pleasure at her approval.

Mara lightly punched her arm. “Good job, Helgadorf!”

Karigan glared at her, then glanced toward the ring where the king and Fastion had been working, but they, and Drent, were gone, and she felt let down. She tried to tell herself it was because she wanted Drent’s approval, but she knew it wasn’t his she sought.

The rest of the session was spent going through basic exercises again, this time Karigan, borrowing Gresia’s practice sword, sparring with Connly. When they finished up, she walked back toward the castle with Mara.

“You know, he watched you and Gresia with great interest,” Mara said.

“He who?” Karigan asked.

“You know who.”

Karigan’s cheeks warmed, and she gave Mara a sideways glance, but Mara simply watched the path ahead, betraying nothing. While it was possible “he” had meant Drent or Fastion, or even Connly, Karigan was pretty sure Mara had meant the king, and she said it as if she’d known there was something between them. Karigan resigned herself to the idea of Mara knowing. How many people knew or suspected, she didn’t care to guess. There was no point to it, anyway. He was the king and he was married, end of story.

• • •

The next morning, as she left her chamber for her shift at the stable to muck out stalls, she was intercepted by a Green Foot runner.

“The queen requests your presence,” the boy said.

“Was a reason given?”

“No, ma’am, just that you are to go soonest.”

Karigan reentered her chamber to change. She could not present herself to the queen in her stable work clothes. As she pulled a fresh uniform out of her wardrobe, she wondered what Estora wanted. Maybe she was just in need of company again. Would the king be there?

She drew on her longcoat, grabbed her saber, and then with a cursory look in her hand mirror, left her chamber behind to attend the queen. When she reached the royal apartments, she felt a ripple of the wards Merla had set, very much like the sensation when she entered the warded area around Rider waystations. In Estora’s sitting room, she found it little changed since the last time she’d been there, except for the absence of the ice creatures.

Estora reclined on her sofa beneath a blanket, working on some sewing, a Hillander terrier lying across her feet. He sat up at Karigan’s arrival and barked.

“Quiet, Jasper!” Estora said.

The terrier leaped off the sofa to sniff Karigan’s boots. Karigan bowed to Estora and snuck in a pat to Jasper’s head.

“Zachary thinks he leaves this dog to guard me,” Estora said, “but mainly Jasper just naps and wants scratches when anyone visits. But come, come and sit. I am glad you are here. I think your presence will be most helpful.”

Helpful? Karigan sat in one of the armchairs beside the fire, wondering exactly what the queen had in mind.

ASH GIRL AND QUEEN

“There she is, the queen’s little hero!” The pronouncement was followed by laughter.

Anna didn’t pause at the door to the servants’ common room to retort. She simply walked on, her empty ash buckets banging together. She’d been right, of course, that her fellow servants would not believe what she’d done and seen the day of the attack of the ice creatures, or that she’d been personally thanked by the king and queen for her help. They mocked instead of praised her. The servants quarters had not been hit hard by the ice creatures, so many of them had not seen what she had.

Worse still, the servants gossiped about Sir Karigan’s “uncanniness.” Some made the sign of the crescent moon when they spoke her name. She could speak to ghosts, they said, and travel through time. Anna did not know how true or false these claims were, but she had witnessed Sir Karigan using magic to protect the two of them during the attack, not use it for ill. Whether she had magic or not, she’d gone on to save the queen, and had treated Anna very nicely. She wasn’t, to Anna’s eyes, “uncanny,” but a kind person. When, on impulse, she told the gossips to shut their mouths, it produced yet more uproarious laughter and ridicule.

When finally she arrived at the storage room to leave off her buckets, broom, and shovel, Master Scrum was there in his apron, looking over a list. He eyed her sourly.

“A little slow today, are we, Mousie? Been out saving the queen again, eh?”

She scowled at the nickname and set the buckets down with a clatter.

“Don’t you get airs, girl. I’ll give you extra shifts if I’ve a mind. That what you want?”

“No, Master Scrum.”

He grunted and returned to his list. “Just you be back here at one hour, sharp.”

“Yes, Master Scrum.”

She stepped back out into the corridor feeling rather dispirited. She almost wished the ice creatures would attack again. Then she’d go help the Riders like before. Then see what everyone would say. They’d probably just continue to mock her. They couldn’t see beyond the ends of their noses.

As Anna came abreast of the common room, a Green Foot runner trotted down the corridor. The runners weren’t usually seen in the servants quarters. He must be looking for Master Scrum, but to her surprise, he halted in front of her.

“You’re Anna, aren’t you? The ash girl?”

Doubly surprised, she couldn’t answer.

“That’s Mousie,” some wag in the common room quipped.