Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen (72 page)

Admiral Roapes could not believe what he was hearing. “Who are you? How have you infiltrated the League?”

Blair laughed. “Infiltrated the League? My father created The League. We have always been here.”

Admiral Roapes took a step back. “Why are you telling me this?”

Blair smiled with his needle-like eyes. “Because I believe you have been limited in your effectiveness up until now by your misunderstanding of who you work for and what you serve. In the future, I trust I will not see the restraint you have shown up until now. Results is all my father cares about, no matter how brutal the means.”

“What? I am honor-bound by the rules of engagement, the principals of...”

“Not anymore, you aren’t,” Blair clarified. “You may have heard that your family has gone missing.”

Admiral Roapes gulped. “You took them. What are you going to do to them?”

“Well, that all depends on you now, doesn’t it? No thanks to you, we now have the Treesinger that we needed. The longer you stay, the more ships and sailors we lose. So, you may now take the fleet to Notorn and begin growing the herbs you need to heal the plague. After that, I expect to see a new kind of tenacity and ruthlessness from you when you are given orders from my father. Do I make myself clear?”

The room swirled away and Admiral Roapes was again standing in his quarters. Sweat beaded along his brow as he looked at himself in the mirror. “What have I done?”

* * *

Exhausted and depleted, the invasion force slowly turned around and departed. The Second Battle of Wysteria had finally ended.

Of the eight thousand airships that had been sent to invade, only three thousand remained loyal to the League of Kingdoms, and most of them had reduced crew. Almost overnight, The Wysterian Alliance now controlled the largest Navy in the world.

The Matriarchs of the largest and greatest families had come to congratulate Queen Forsythia personally when they heard the news. The song of the forest pulsated with joy and relief. Family members were embraced, friends were honored, and throughout Wysteria, gratitude for being alive was sung from every tree and from every tongue.

“Even though there was extensive damage to the academy buildings, we are going to begin classes again for the young Treesingers next week,” Lady Holly Cypress boasted happily. “We don’t need a classroom to teach.”

“Perhaps you can tell the students to think of it as a field trip,” Queen Forsythia suggested mirthfully.

As Lady Cypress turned to leave, Lady Aspen Bursage tapped her staff and tucked some of her winter-frosted hair behind her pointed ears. “Your mother and I rarely saw eye-to-eye, and I doubt you and I will either,” she stated coldly. “You've got that same radical streak in you that she did.”

“I look forward to many stirring debates with you,” Queen Forsythia said kindly.

“But...” Lady Bursage continued, her icy eyes thawing a little. “Considering your reign so far, you just might turn out to be a worthy opponent.”

The two nodded to each other politely as Lady Bursage turned to leave.

“I am pleased to announce that the quillwort treatments are working splendidly,” Lady Cadagi Lotebush informed her. “With the Goddess willing, the first that fell ill should recover within the month.”

“I am pleased to hear it,” Queen Forsythia said, nodding politely. “And we are all fortunate to have such skilled healers as the women of your family.”

Lady Tupelo Buckthorn placed her fist across her chest in the soldier’s salute. “You fought bravely,” she praised, bowing without lowering her eyes.

“I can think of no greater praise from our greatest warrior family,” the Queen said graciously. “You honor me.”

Despite her obvious pains at the loss of her daughter, Aden, Lady Buckthorn kept her composure as she left the hall.

“Shall we begin preparation for a celebration?” Lady Mara Greenbrier asked, her long, elegant face looking very excited.

The Queen nodded. “Trust me, there will be celebrations, but first we must take the time to heal and honor those who have passed. Their spirits may have rejoined the Great Mother, but that does not make us miss them any less.”

“Of course, my Queen,” she agreed as she turned to walk away.

When the living wood closed behind her, the throne room was empty except for Alder and Bunni, both of them looking resplendent in their palace formal wear.

“My Queen,” Alder stated formally between fits of coughing. His face was pale and weak, but his eyes were full of relief. “Our advanced scouts confirm that the Navy has completely left Wysterian airspace. Already we are beginning to set up diplomatic connections with the islands that have pledged to join us. Their airships will be arriving within the week to help us protect and patrol our own airspace and keep it safe.”

“Thank you for the report,” Queen Forsythia said icily.

Alder bowed and turned away. Bunni curtsied and scampered off after him. As he reached the door, Alder was surprised when he heard the clatter of wood. He turned around and saw the Queen’s staff lying on the ground. Her face was fallen into her hands, and she was sobbing quietly to herself.

Alder looked around, making sure they were alone. “Athi, what is wrong?” he asked as he came closer. “This is a joyous occasion. Your leadership saved the forest. Now we can begin preparations to stop the Stone Council and remove the curse on the seas.”

“Don’t you see?” Athel cried. “I don’t want to be an expert at manipulating people. I don’t want to be skilled at sophistry. A butcher of hearts, a master of pain, who would want to have such talents?”

Bunni scooted closer, her held tilted, trying to understand. Alder knelt before her and took her hands in his. “But, Athi, who have you ever...”

“Everyone!” Athel screamed. “My mother and I, it was our plan from the beginning,” Athel sobbed. “We knew the war could not be won through battle, it was instantly obvious to both of us. We knew we would have to turn the hearts of the people in the League against The Stone Council. That’s why we robbed the treasury, because we knew it would force the Stone Council to be cruel in order to replace the losses. That is why we infected the Navy with a plague, because we knew it would force The Stone Council to be heartless towards them. The whole point was to enrage the people enough towards their leaders to change sides.”

Athel looked up, tears rolling down her cheeks. “All the while, we played the role of the saint, she and I. Being kind and merciful at every opportunity, but it was all a ruse. We caused the suffering to begin with, it is our fault...it is...my fault.”

Alder stood up and took her in his arms. Her frame shook and trembled as though it would shatter. “Athi, a cruel person would not shed tears like this. The fact that you care so much, even for your enemies, is proof of the strength of your heart.”

Athel wept again. “Even after my mother collapsed, I carried on the plan. I knew exactly what to do, because I am just like her. Do you know how angry that makes me? I am exactly like she is. And it is my fault. I let them do this. I let them hammer away at me until I became this pathetic little copy of her.”

“You did what was right,” Alder affirmed.

Athel looked at her hands hatefully. “Every time I look into the mirror all I see is her looking back at me! Her!”

Athel tore off her circlet and threw it to the ground. “That face in the mirror! Her face. I can’t stand it!”

Athel wrenched at her braids, trying to yank them out. “I hate this, I hate myself! All of it!”

Athel yanked and pulled on her hair, screaming at loud as she could. The sound seemed to rattle the very roots of the forest. She screamed so loud and long her voice became hoarse. Finally she slumped forward, numb with pain. Tears smeared her makeup, her braids were frayed and knotted. Snot dribbled pitifully from her nose. She whimpered quietly as she breathed, her mighty heart broken.

Alder cried as well, out of sympathy. He took out his handkerchief and cleaned up her face. “Athi, you did what a great leader does, what all truly good leaders do. You minimized death and suffering wherever you could. There were so many times when you could have chosen an easier path, a path that would have killed so many more people. But, you never did, you always refused it and looked for another way. And now, thanks to you, so many of those men and women who were our enemies are now our allies. What you did is remarkable; I only wish you could see that.”

Athel raised her trembling hands and looked at them. “You don’t understand. I
know
what it feels like when a people suffer. I have felt every ounce of pain through the link since I took the throne. All those sick Wysterians out there right now, I can feel it as if it were happening to me personally. I feel eighty-two thousand one-hundred and seventy five sick and suffering bodies simultaneously, and it is all my fault. They are sick from those spores because of me. I did this to them! Even the Navy people, I can feel their pain through the trees. I caused it all. Me, I did this. I've become a monster.”

Athel leaned forward and fell on Alder’s shoulder, sniveling.

“But that is not all you feel, right?” Alder said, running his hand over her head. “You also feel their gratitude, their esteem for you, their relief that the forest was saved. You feel their trust in your decisions, and their willingness to follow you.”

Athel sniffed and wiped her nose with her sleeve. “I know what you are saying, and I understand it here,” she said, tapping on her temple. “But, it still hurts here,” she said, tapping on her heart. “It hurts so bad I feel like I could die from it.”

Slowly, Bunni inched forward and tugged furtively on the hem of Athel’s royal gown. “I like you,” Bunni said sweetly.

Athel laughed out loud, sniffed, then laughed again.

“Thanks Bunni,” she said, wiping tears from her face.

From outside the hall there was a heavy banging sound, as if something metal was being beaten against it. The wood gave way, and Privet fell down into the room holding a sledgehammer.

“What are you guys doing in here?” he asked as he came to his feet. “No one could open the door.”

Queen Forsythia squeaked in embarrassment and tried to compose herself, wiping her face and straightening her braids as best she could.

“Really, you must knock before entering the throne room,” Alder scolded as he snatched up her circlet and brought it back over.

“May I ask what you are doing in here?” Queen Athel asked, smoothing out her gown and trying to sound as dignified as she could.

Privet rolled his eyes. “Pick up your staff, you dummy. The whole forest is alive with it. Deutzia is having your baby!”

Athel and Alder rode the palace stallions as fast as they could, out to the edge of the forest where the blighted land began, the spot where Deutzia was planted.

Already, a small group of men and woman had gathered to witness the event. Through the trees, Queen Forsythia could sense the entire island listening in, bubbling with excitement.

It felt right to everyone, in a poetic kind of way, that the first daughter born after the end of the conflict would be the Queen’s. As Queen Forsythia gracefully lowered herself off her stallion, a gate opened up within the crowd and the crew of the Dreadnaught joined the audience.

Just in time.

They all joined the procession just as the High Priestess began the ceremony.

Does this daughter have a mother?” the High Priestess asked.

“She does,” Queen Forsythia answered as she stepped forward, her powerful voice carrying across the crowd.

“Does this daughter have a father?” the High Priestess asked.

“She does,” Alder answered as he stepped forward, his voice trembling and weak.

“Does this daughter have Maar'i ota'a ann'i?”

“Yes, Mina Duvare, and Allister Evere,” Queen Forsythia announced.

Captain Evere and Mina looked around nervously as they were escorted up to the front of the procession. The crowd placed their hands over their hearts and bowed.

“Is it just me, or is everyone acting like they know us?” Captain Evere whispered.

“What is that?” Mina asked quietly.

“Maar'i ota'a ann'i, or spirit parents,” Alder translated. “Responsible for nurture and upbringing.”

“You will help us raise the child as if it were your own,” Queen Athel explained. “Expect to do a lot of babysitting.”

“Oh, that is so sweet!” Mina placed her hands over her heart, her lavender eyes filling with tears.

“And you think they rest of them will be okay with this?” Captain Evere asked, looking around.

“They know what you have done for me,” Queen Athel assured him.

With the four parents present, Deutzia lowered her branch, presenting the ripened fruit to them. Alder prepared with silken swaddling cloth and fresh spring water.

“What will be the first given name to this firstborn daughter of the forest?” the High Priestess asked, her voice carried on the wind.

“Arolla,” Queen Forsythia answered.

“Will there be a second name?”

“There will.”

“And what will be the second given name to this firstborn daughter of the forest?”

“Cherxie-Diryl,” Queen Forsythia answered, the faintest smile crossing her lips.

“Then join us, daughter of the forest, Arolla Cherxie-Diryl Forsythia, firstborn of the Queen, and heir to the throne.”

The thick rind of the fruit split open and a wave of joy passed through the forest for all to experience. Even Mina and Captain Evere felt it pass over them. Alder began his part of the ceremony, but he was having some difficulty separating the layers of membranes that protected the baby. His hands were shaking. At first Athel assumed it was nerves, because she was also so nervous she could scarcely breathe, but then she realized it was something else.

Is he feeling all right?

Peeling back the final layer, Alder reached within and first pulled out the large seed that would grow into their daughter’s Ma’iltri’ia. Athel and Deutzia shared a glance and smiled to each other.

Next, Alder reached in and with unbelievable gentleness, removed a small, wriggling newborn, placing her in Athel’s waiting arms as he began to clean her off and purify her with spring water.