Queen of Fire

“I cannot bless this woman’s blades,” she told the fighters, many now weeping openly. “For she blesses me. You all do. I am your blade, and you are mine.” She raised the still-sobbing Furelah to her feet, leading her back to the company’s ranks. “Accordingly I hereby name you as the Realm Guard’s Sixtieth Regiment of Foot, to be known hereafter as the Queen’s Daggers.” They parted before her as she released Furelah, the woman instantly falling to her knees once more, her comrades all reaching out to touch tentative hands to Lyrna’s gown as she moved among them, fierce devotion on every face. I cannot become drunk on this, she thought, smiling and touching her hands to heads lowered in supplication. The lure of it is too great.

“Toil, blood and justice!” the cry began unbidden, a spontaneous shout from a faceless voice in the kneeling ranks, repeated over and over as they stabbed the air with their assorted weapons. “Toil! Blood! And justice!”

Lyrna felt the seduction of it sweep through her, the power of it, the knowledge that these few hundred wounded souls would die for her in an instant. She was on the verge of surrendering to it completely when something gave her pause, a single face not stricken in adoration. Lord Nortah stood beside his horse, running a hand over the head of the great cat crouched at his side, his faint look of disgust now replaced with one of deep and obvious disapproval.

• • •

She met with Brother Caenis in the evening, alone since Vaelin seemed keen to avoid his former brother, an attitude shared by many in the army’s ranks. Even Orena, who struck Lyrna as a woman of great practicality, had begged leave for an early night rather than remain to greet the brother’s arrival. Fear of the Dark does not fade in an instant, Lyrna concluded.

The newly revealed brother of the Seventh Order sat at stiff attention on a camp-stool, refusing the offer of refreshment with a polite shake of his head. For all his evident hardiness and renown as a warrior there was a definite timidity to this compact, war-hardened man, a shift in his eyes as if wary of attack at any moment. So long living in the shadows, she thought. The light of day can be as frightening as the Dark.

“My brothers and sisters ask me to offer thanks, Highness,” he said. “For your consideration.”

“A queen has care for all her subjects, my lord.”

“If it please you, Highness. My preference is to be addressed as ‘brother.’ I am a man of the Faith in all things.”

“As you wish.” Lyrna reached for the scroll he had handed her on arrival, a complete list of his Order’s members and their various gifts. “You have a brother who can see the past?”

“Brother Lucin’s gift is limited, Highness. His vision confined only to whatever location he finds himself in.”

Lyrna nodded, frowning at the next description on the list. “And this Sister Merial can truly pull lightning from the air?”

“Not exactly, Highness. She can exude a power, an energy from her hands. In darkness or shadow it can seem like lightning. The gift is very draining, fatal if over-used.”

“Can she kill with it?”

He hesitated then gave a short nod.

“Then she and her gift are greatly welcome in this army.” Lyrna read through the rest of the list, glancing up at him with a raised eyebrow. “I find there is one name missing, brother.”

His discomfort visibly deepened but his gaze remained steady and his tone held no note of compromise. “My gift cannot be revealed, Highness. By strict order of my Aspect.”

She was tempted to remind him the Faith was subject to the Crown, but decided against it. There is too much of use in what he brings me. And this is not a good time for conflict with the Faith, especially when they continue to hide so much.

“I spent so many years in search of your kind,” she said, putting the list aside. “Even risking death in the mountains to seek evidence of your existence. And yet it seems all I had to do was await the tide of history and I would be deluged with more evidence than I could ever wish.”

Brother Caenis confined his reply to a cautious nod, his gaze averted as she continued, “It must have been difficult, living in concealment for so long. Lying to your brothers for years on end.”

“The Faith required it, Highness. I had no choice in the matter. But yes, it was a hard duty.”

“Lord Vaelin tells me you were the most loyal subject my father could ever wish for. That your enthusiasm for the desert war was great. So much so he thought your heart broken when it all came to naught.”