Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen (63 page)

BOOK: Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen
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“Incoming!” called out the bosun Nacer.

Training took over and everyone ran to their stations and took cover. The projectile was large and white, about the size of a small house. At first glance, it appeared to be made out of stone, but when it impacted with the mizzen-mast it flew apart into fleshy chunks of mushroom that scattered themselves all over the ship.

Captain Sykes waved his gloved hand to clear away some of the green mist. “A dud, perhaps?”

* * *

A quarter mile beyond the landing craft, a series of trenches and culverts had been dug in the dead soil to protect the Marines from the near constant shelling coming from the mesa above that lead to Cliffrose, the capital. Despite having never before utilized such conventional tactics, the Wysterian men were showing quite a knack for it. Nighttime counterattacks, infiltrating sappers, and double envelopments had all served to stall out every attempt they had made to press their advantage and continue the eradication of the forest.

In a concrete command bunker, Admiral Roapes looked out through his spyglass at the edge of the treeline. One thing was abundantly clear. His forces were running out of food, ammunition, and time.

I can’t believe those idiots back on Stretis would authorize an assault with so little funding. Just what do they expect me to do?

“Admiral, I have more official protests, this time from the Trifon, and Agathi, the Parthenios, the Riginos, and the Vlassis,” Nicole reported. She had never looked more sickly. She had lost a lot of weight; she wasn’t sleeping. Her eyes were dull and lost, her hands trembled. In between tasks, she scratched the back of her hands obsessively, leaving the skin raw and calloused.

“Don’t tell me about protests, Nicole,” Admiral Roapes commanded curtly. “Tell me why those blasted ships are still not in position. I want those trees dead!”

A huge white mushroom crashed to the ground near them, sending a green mist wafting through the command bunker. “What the blazes are these things?” Admiral Roapes asked, waving his hand around.

“We dunno’, but they've been hitting our ships and trenches for like the last twenty minutes,” Jessica reported, tucking some of her long satiny hair behind her ear.

“We've got some of the doctors from Advan looking them over,” Nicole reported. “I'll let you know as soon as they've found anything.”

“Something has changed,” Admiral Roapes concluded as he collapsed his spyglass. “It’s not just the men anymore, the Treesingers and the trees are working together again. They're fighting back harder and harder by the hour.”

“Maybe before they were on holiday or something,” Rachael suggested as she smacked her chewing gum loudly and checked her makeup in a mirror. Everyone turned around to look at her for making such a ridiculous suggestion.

Rachael noticed them staring at her and giggled in embarrassment. “You know, like a mountain retreat or hot springs,” she said in her high squeaky voice. “That’s where I go when I’m not on duty.”

Admiral Roapes turned away from her and shook his head sadly.

Under threat of punishment, two columns of Marines carrying dragonskins of seawater began advancing towards the distant wall of trees, Sutorian wizards using their magic to create a wall of energy to protect them. As soon as they were in range, cannon-fire from the mesa began slamming into the magical shields. Volley after volley bounced off the shields until they were nearly in range. Then the trees joined in, hurling mighty boulders down onto the attackers. Exhausted, the Sutorian wizards collapsed under the strain and their shields fell with them. The trees and cannons fired one final volley over the columns, breaking their nerve and forcing them to fall back, without having successfully sprayed any of the seawater on the trees.

“The Wysterians stopped firing as soon as the Marines broke rank,” Nicole noted as she watched through her spyglass. “Why didn’t they finish them off?”

Admiral Roapes slammed his fist against the wall. “In a few hours we'll have the Iberian Fire-Triremes in position, and then it won’t matter anymore. This war is already over, we're just waiting out the clock at this point.”

It was then that the air tore open in the middle of the room and a resplendent young woman stepped through.

“I am Queen Forsythia, I have come to speak with you,” she announced with her rich and refined voice.

Admiral Roapes’ mouth opened in surprise. For years, he had surrounded himself with pretty females, but this young woman was truly strikingly beautiful. The way she held herself was regal and powerful. A balance and poise that came from a lifetime of training but appeared effortless and natural. She wore a long, deep red dress that complimented her ample curves and slim waist elegantly. The material looked like it was created from oversized rose petals. Her long red hair was braided and decorated with pearls and fine chains of gold. A golden circlet sat on her brow, and a long cape made from living red cliff roses and thorns flowed to the ground behind her. But it was her eyes that were her most remarkable feature. A shifting hazel that captured your attention and held it tightly, as if she were holding your very soul aloft for judgment. Nicole found herself instinctively backing away from that gaze.

“What are you waiting for?” Admiral Roapes called out to the guards as he came to his senses. “We're in the middle of a barren desert, she’s powerless here, take her now!”

The guards had barely moved when Queen Forsythia’s cloak came to life. Long strands of roses and thorns whipped out in all directions, wrapping themselves around the guards and their weapons and pinning them to the concrete walls. It happened so quickly that Nicole barely had time to blink.

“I see that you do not intend to honor the old ways,” Queen Forsythia observed icily as she rested her gloved hands in a courtly fashion atop her staff.

Admiral Roapes ground his teeth in frustration and turned to Nicole. “I thought you said their Queen was in a coma or dead or something.”

“Old trees fall, new trees grow to replace them, but the forest remains,” Queen Forsythia explicated. “The Queen is the voice of the forest. So long as the forest lives, so does its voice.”

“You're not quite as tall as the last one,” the Admiral snorted.

If Queen Forsythia took any offense at the insult, she didn’t show it. Her face remained calm and gracious. “I believe you are misinterpreting the strength of your position here, Admiral. If I had used Cruisao seeds during that last volley, you and every invader on this island would be dead by now.”

Admiral Roapes straightened his uniform. “I see, so you intentionally threw duds as a warning.”

“You may interpret it as you wish, of course,” she granted coldly.

“So why didn’t you just kill us?” Nicole asked, scratching the back of her hands.

“Because killing you is not my goal. I spared your lives to give you an opportunity.”

“An opportunity for what?” Admiral Roapes spat.

Queen Forsythia tilted her head, as if the answer should have been completely obvious. “To join us, of course. Help me save our islands. Help me save our people.”

Rachael squeaked oddly and ran out of the bunker. The Queen made no attempt to stop her.

“You are still stuck on that?” Admiral Roapes denounced.

A strand of thorns and roses began snaking up his leg and body, tearing the fabric of his uniform as it went.

“My mother showed you mercy, even as you fatally wounded her. You destroyed our forest, and she let you leave with your lives. You murdered our children, and yet she returned your captured soldiers to you, their wounds mended and their bellies full. She held out offers of peace and alliance, even as you spat in her face.”

Admiral Roapes was now wrapped in thorns up to his neck.

“And after all that, this is how you chose to repay her kindness?” Queen Forsythia chastised. “You murder even more of our people and blight our lands so that nothing may ever grow there again? How can you even sleep at night knowing the evils you have committed?”

Nicole turned her face away. “We can’t,” she admitted.

Admiral Roapes choked against the thorns pressing into his throat. “You are just like she was. You try to make me personally responsible, when all I am doing is following orders.”

Queen Forsythia released him and he fell to the ground. “But you do have a choice, Admiral. You always had a choice. You chose which side to be on, and you chose the side with evil and wicked leaders giving immoral and contemptible orders. You are absolutely responsible for that choice.”

“What would you have us do?” Admiral Roapes coughed as he came to his feet.

“Do what is right. Join our cause. Help us stop the Stone Council.”

Nicole looked up with sadness and fear in her eyes. “Would you even have us, after all we have done to you?” she asked weakly.

Queen Forsythia turned to Nicole, her eyes like ice. “I am not your confessor, I cannot offer you absolution for what you have done.”

Nicole’s eyes fell in despair.

The Queen stepped forward and placed a delicate hand on Nicole’s shoulder. “But I am here to offer you mercy one last time. To do any less would dishonor the memory of my mother and what she lived for.”

Nicole looked up into the Queen’s eyes.

Everyone in the bunker looked at each other in amazement. None of them had ever seen an enemy act this way before, with such restraint and clemency. It almost seemed unreal to them.

The thorns released the guards but not their weapons.

“My offer is to every man and woman in your invasion force,” Queen Forsythia announced. “Come, join us.”

Admiral Roapes scoffed, tugging nervously on his well waxed goatee. The rest of the bunker was speechless.

The silence was broken by a tearing noise. Everyone looked around for the source, then found Nicole pulling and yanking at the Navy badge on her uniform. Little by little it gave, then finally tore away. She threw it to the ground and ran her fingers over the bald spot left behind. The badge was gone, but a bleached mark in the fabric remained where it had been.

“Nicole, what are you doing?” Admiral Roapes asked in amazement.

Nicole crossed the room and stood by Queen Forsythia. “What I should have done months ago. I hereby resign my commission. I am joining the island of Wysteria in defense of my homeland.”

Nicole turned to The Queen. “That is, if you will have me.”

Queen Forsythia nodded charitably.

“You're a traitor!” Admiral Roapes screamed, forgetting all decorum.

“Oh, what the heck,” Jessica said as she also reached up and tore off her badge. She strutted over to join Nicole.

“This is mutiny! That’s what this is,” Admiral Roapes spat.

Three more of Admiral Roapes’ staff tore off their badges as well, as did two of the guards. They stood resolutely before Admiral Roapes and his remaining staff, now outnumbering them.

“This dishonor will be upon the heads of your children, and your children’s children, up to the seventh generation!” Admiral Roapes screamed.

“Please tell your subordinates that my offer is extended to each person in this fleet,” Queen Forsythia said to the remaining staff officers.

“No one will tell them anything!” Admiral Roapes bellowed.

“Then I will tell them,” Nicole announced, straightening herself up. “The Admiral doesn’t know any of the encryption cyphers anyway. I’m the one who does it all.”

Nicole turned to The Queen. “Just get me to a prism stream and I'll make sure every man and women in the fleet knows.”

“Nicole turned back to Admiral Roapes. “And I'll make sure they know what happened in here as well.”

“Nicole...”

Rachael ran back into the bunker as best she could in her high heels and short skirt, a hastily packed suitcase carried in her hands. “Wait, I’m coming too,” she giggled, mincing up to the others.

“Rachael, you too?” Admiral Roapes huffed between breaths. “Why?”

Rachael spat out her gum and kicked off her heels. “Because I’m sick and tired of pretending to be an air-head trophy for you,” she said. Her voice was now much lower then before, the bubbliness gone from her demeanor. “I graduated top of my class at the academy, for crying out loud, and all you want me to do is feed you candy and pour your wine, you lecherous old fart!”

“Old fart?” Admiral Roapes repeated, his voice stunned.

The Queen reached out and handed the Admiral a small potted plant.

He took it and looked at it in confusion. “What is this?”

“Why, the antidote, of course.”

“To what?”

“To the DeathCap spores you and your soldiers are breathing. The only cure is to ingest large amounts of this herb. I'll warn you right now, though, Quillwort is a very picky breed. Without a Treesinger it will only grow in a few isolated places. I recommend the Islet of Notorn.”

“That’s on the other side of the world.”

Queen Forsythia nodded graciously. “Yes, it is, and it will take you quite some time to grow enough herb to cure all your soldiers.”

The Queen handed him a small bound book.

“What is this?”

“A book on how to farm. I suggest you read it on the way.”

Another portal opened up behind Queen Forsythia and she stepped through, followed by Rachael and the others. As Nicole stepped through, she looked back for one moment as Admiral Roapes stood there, a broken man.

“Nicole...”

Nicole shook her head. “It’s Nikki now.”

Nikki stepped through the portal and it closed behind her. She was now standing with the others on top of the mesa overlooking the blightlands below. The men and Treesingers standing the defenses looked very surprised to see them all.

“Who are all these people?” Privet asked, loading another cannonball. The sun glistening off his tanned, rippling back.

“The first of many,” Queen Forsythia explained dispassionately. “See that they are tended to, I want no harm to come to them.”

“Yes, my Queen,” one of the Treesingers said as she lead them away.

“And permit Nikki the use of a prism stream as soon as practicable.”

“Right away.”

As they were led away, Queen Forsythia looked up to Setsuna, where she sat on the edge of a rampart, kicking her feet innocently.

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