Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen (69 page)

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Captain Sykes said with a dry voice. “I speak to you today not as your Captain, but as a fellow sailor caught in the same predicament as you are. Over the last twenty-four hours, over a dozen islands have withdrawn from the League and joined the Wysterian Alliance.”

The crew nodded knowingly. None of them looked like they had slept in days.

Captain Sykes held up his letter. “I just received word from my uncle, who sits on the presiding council of The Illiam Confederacy. He informs me that in the morning, they will announce that Illiam will be doing the same.”

Even with the coughing, there was a hushed shock at the news.

“As you can see, that puts me in a tight spot, to say the least. Mr. Mathahews, I know you are from Nthonu, which has announced something similar. And we have all heard about what has happened on Madaringa, and we all have very raw feelings about that.”

Captain Sykes took a moment to let the gravity of the situation sink in. “I have sworn an oath to the Navy, as have you all, but now I am forced to choose between siding with my homeland, or siding against it. As those of you who know me may rightly guess, that is no choice at all. I am, and will always be, an Illium first. That does not mean, however, that this is not the most difficult decision of my life.”

He took a moment to regain his composure and wipe the blood trickling down his chin. “Unfortunately for you, that means your Captain is a traitor to the League, and I will not have you take on any of my shame.”

“So, what do we do then?” Avid asked, blood dripping down her cheek from an open pustule.

Captain Sykes coughed, doubling over in pain. Left-tenant Iarti propped him up to keep him from falling over. “We must each decide for ourselves where our...loyalties lie,” he explained. “We will split ourselves into those who will join Wysteria, and those that will not. I have decided that we will do so peacefully. We may end up being enemies next time we meet, but by Vestum’s Saddle, right now we are shipmates and that is how we shall treat each other. Do I make myself clear?”

“Aye,” the crew responded weakly.

Iarti brought up a glass bowl and a bag of small stones. It was difficult for him to hold it due to the boils on his fingers. “The only thing left is to decide how to divide up the ship.”

“This is simple,” Captain Sykes announced. “Those bound for Wysteria place a white stone in the bowl, those staying with the Navy place a gray stone in. Whichever side is more numerous will sail the St. Downing, the less numerous side will take the longboats.”

The sailors looked at each other, uncertainty in their eyes. There was no time for pondering, debate, or discussion, the time to decide was now.

Emar raised her hand, the Tomani bracelets on her arm making a sweet jingly noise. “What about our pay, has there been any word from the brass on...”

“The answer, I’m afraid, is the same as before,” Captain Sykes affirmed.

“What about our rations?” Holli asked

“Again, no response.”

Captain Sykes blinked and the pain nearly rendered him insensible. A fresh blister was forming on the side of his eyeball.

“Is it true that the brass have a cure but the stonies won’t let them use it?” Dr. Wagess asked, her hands in her coat pockets.

“It appears so,” Left-tenant Iarti confirmed.

“Make no mistake, ladies and gentlemen,” Captain Sykes warned. “The trees of this place can read your hearts, so do not vote yes unless you are one hundred percent committed to this.”

“Can we even trust these tree-witches?” Bosaka asked aloud. “How do we know they won’t just execute us all after what we've done to them?”

“That’s no less than we merit,” Avid affirmed grimly. “I’d do the same to them.”

Kathan raised his lizard-like tail into the air. “I was on the Dauntless before serving here,” he explained. “She went down during the first Battle of Wysteria, and we were all taken prisoner. And I tell you what, they treated us mighty decent, more than we deserved even. So, I say yes, I think we can trust them to treat us well.”

Two more sailors spoke up and voiced similar experiences.

Karite walked up first, boldly, and grabbed a white stone and held it up. “This is for my nephew, who was taken back on Madaringa. I'll make The Stone Council pay for what they did!” He threw the stone into the bowl.

Nacer was next. He walked up furtively, disliking the attention. “This is for my children back on Schillotaum,” he said quietly, grabbing a white stone. “I joined the Navy to give them a better life, to pay for their schooling, but now all I have to give them is shame. The Navy has sent me here twice now to massacre a peaceful people, and I will not do it.”

Nacer tossed the white stone in the bowl.

Emar walked up next and grabbed a white stone. “I don’t give a squat about politics, but if the Stone Council thinks it can cut off my wages, starve me to death, and let me rot from some plague, well then I say, screw ‘em to the wall and let them hang there!” She threw the stone into the bowl and stepped aside.

Berrimar walked up and saluted Captain Sykes smartly. “I am an orphan of Artice, so this ship is my family, always has been. I've served with you, Captain for the last twelve years, and you've never led me astray.” Berrimar grabbed a white stone. “If you are going to Wysteria, then I am going with you, with or without my island.”

Dr. Wagess walked up next and put her trembling hand into the bag. “My God Odesi commands me to heal the world, to comfort it. When I look at the two sides in this conflict, I see one trying to destroy, and one trying to save. I am Advanian, therefore I must join the side trying to save.”

Kathan walked up next, scratching the hard bony plates on his neck. “I've served on a number of ships, and there’s never been one I was more proud of than this one.” He grabbed a white stone and smiled. “There is no way I could cross any of you on a field of battle; I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

One by one they came up, casting their vote. When the last sailor had passed, Captain Sykes and Left-tenant Iarti placed a white stone for each of them into the bowl. When it was held up, not a single gray stone had been cast.

Slowly and formally, as if he were attending a funeral, Captain Sykes took off his Navy Jacket, folded it precisely, and walked over to the gunwale. He held out the uniform for a moment, as if saying goodbye, then dropped it over the side. The rest of his crew followed suit, their jackets cascading down towards the seas below like falling confetti.

“Drop the colors,” Left-tenant Iarti commanded. “Loose the mainsail.”

A few moments later, without pomp or meretricious display, the Navy Interceptor St. Downing lowered her Navy flag for the last time, and replaced it with a white flag. Her canvas dropped, she surged forward out of formation and sailed into Wysterian airspace, and an uncertain future.

Then, a few moments later, uniforms rained down from another Navy ship, then a second, then a third.

The falling uniforms merged together into a falling cloud of debris as dozens of ships began breaking formation.

* * *

In the freshly-cleaned throne room, these was a sense of barely controlled chaos. Messengers scurried in and out as fast as their legs would carry them. Matrons and Matriarchs came in and out through the doors of living wood, their appointments and schedules maintained by Alder’s expert hand. Former Navy officers were escorted in to speak with the Queen and formally pledge their new allegiance on behalf of their crews.

In the center of the storm sat Queen Forsythia, appearing as calm as a spring morning. The sunlight coming in from above radiated off of her red braided hair and her cape of roses and thorns. It gave everyone confidence just to look at her.

Captain Beauregard stood up after swearing his oath and saluted as best he could, the boils on his skin making every movement painful.

“I accept your pledge with gratitude,” Queen Forsythia said graciously. “Lady Orchid will direct you and your sailors to your new living quarters. Your people need rest, food, and immediate medical attention. She will make sure you have plenty of each.”

“Thank you, your Highness,” Captain Beauregard said as he was escorted away by Lady Orchid.

Queen Forsythia turned to Alder, who stood by her side holding his clipboard, looking quite dapper in a finely tailored royal suit. Bunni Bubbles stood next to Alder, wearing a miniature royal servant dress, holding a tiny clipboard of her own.

“How many ships have crossed the line now?” Queen Forsythia asked coldly.

“Four hundred and thirty seven, my Queen, and we are receiving signals from at least a dozen more.”

Through the trees, Queen Forsythia called for Madam Aster, who walked in and bowed.

“Madam Aster, we will need to create additional docks for the ships. We are already beyond capacity. Take Lady Gladiolas and Lady Peony to the Nettle Mountains and reshape the Nallorn there to accommodate the next wave of airships. The trees have already given their consent.”

“But, my Queen, I have never seen airship docks before.”

“Ah yes, of course,” The Queen said patiently. “Link with me, and I will show you.” Madam Aster placed her hand on the Queen’s staff. For a moment, they both remained still with their eyes closed. When they opened them again, Madam Aster bowed thankfully and walked out of the hall.

As the living wood parted for her, someone else from the other side forced his way through and into the hall. The crowd of courtiers parted, looking disturbed at the lack of decorum.

“I need to talk to you,” Privet stated angrily, pointing a finger at the Queen.

Alder checked his clipboard. “Your appointment is not for another three days, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah, three days,” Bunni affirmed, making a little check on her clipboard.

“Don’t give me that,” Privet insisted. “If it wasn’t for me she'd be a skeleton in a vault. She can spare me some time.”

Ignoring him completely, Queen Forsythia leaned forward and calmly addressed Sister Boronia as she approached.

“My sister, we will need to create some separate housing for the Diades so that they are downwind of the rest of the forest. The tip of the southern peninsula is most well suited. The trees and families there have already given their consent, but they will still need help moving their possessions to a new tree. Gather together some of the men to handle the manual labor.”

“Yes, my Queen,” Sister Boronia affirmed.

Mistress Balsam was next, but Privet stepped in front of her. A wave of hushed insult spread through the room.

“I can’t believe you had me and Setsuna followed last night,” Privet stated indignantly.

Dahoon walked up and took Privet by the arm. “I am sorry, but the Queen has much more pressing matters to attend to.”

“He knows that, he just doesn’t care,” Alder criticized.

“He’s a big dummy,” Bunni seconded, making a mark on her clipboard.

Dahoon pulled on Privet’s arm, but couldn’t make him budge, no matter how hard he pulled.

Privet smiled. “You were worried about me, weren’t you?”

“I care for all my subjects,” the Queen answered icily.

“Uh huh. How many of your subjects were out courting last night?”

Queen Forsythia patiently leaned to one side so she could see Mistress Balsam standing behind Privet. “Mistress Balsam, many of the larger families have agreed to take on the care of the next wave of Navy refugees directly. Please write up an announcement so the men of their households are made aware of this agreement.”

“Yes, my Queen.”

Mistress Balsam walked away but Privet remained. The Royal Guards moved to unsheathe their weapons, but the Queen elegantly raised her hand, and they stood down.

“Go on, I know you know,” Privet baited her. “How many were out courting? I know you can peek into everyone’s head around here now.”

“It really doesn’t work that way...”

“How many?” Privet pressed.

The Queen rested her chin on her hand in a courtly fashion. “Eighty-seven.”

“And how many of them did you have followed?”

“Only you,” she answered honestly.

Privet clucked his tongue. “You have changed, haven’t you? Even after you...gods, I was such an idiot to think that...” He reigned himself in and pointed a finger at her, creating another wave of disgust through the room. “You’re the one who set up that date between me and her in the first place!”

“The forest needed her magic, acquiescing to her demand was the simplest way to gain her compliance.”

“Don’t give me that, Athel. If it bothered you so much you should have said something.”

“The forest needed her compliance, nothing else matters,” Queen Forsythia stated coldly.

“You could have found another way,” Privet insisted.

“There was no other way.”

Privet was taken aback by this. It seemed the roles in this debate had switched from the way it had always been between them.

Queen Forsythia placed a hand gently on Privet’s broad shoulder. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. She’s already betrayed us once.”

“So did Spirea, and you never gave up on her,” Privet reminded her.

The Queen sat back on her throne. “In time, Setsuna may earn a measure of my trust, but not my complete trust.”

“Is that it? Or do you just think she is beneath me?”

The Queen tilted her head at this rather odd question. “You could do better, yes.”

Privet smiled and wagged his finger at her. “You're jealous.”

“I’m concerned for all my...”

“Admit it, you are jealous. You may have a big important job now, but inside you're still you, aren’t you?”

Queen Forsythia impassively rested her hand on her staff. “Guards, you can send in the next appointment.”

The Royal Guards took Privet by the arms and began escorting him out of the hall.

“Okay then,” Privet said. “If you aren’t jealous, then maybe I'll just go ahead and marry Setsuna. She’s bugged me about it often enough.”

Queen Athel’s mouth popped open in shock.

“Aha See? You claim you don’t care in that way but you do.” Privet smiled with smug satisfaction as he was escorted from the room.