May I have the message?
The white deer didn’t carry any note—Naelin was powerful enough that she could imprint her message in the spirit’s mind, which was incredible. It made Daleina feel weak in comparison, especially in the aftermath of losing the three spirits she’d sent. Reaching for the deer’s thoughts, Daleina heard the message as if Naelin were speaking right next to her. Her voice in the deer’s memory was only a little distorted, as if she were talking underwater or through a windstorm. “Queen Daleina, I have reached an agreement with Queen Merecot. I will be relinquishing control of the spirits of Aratay and tying myself to the excess spirits of Semo, then bringing them to the barren areas to bond with the land. Ambassador Hanna says to tell you it was her idea. And Ven says to tell you not to worry, I’m not stupidly reckless. His words, not mine, though I believe he’s right.
“The transfer of spirits will begin in the morning. Be ready.”
Daleina withdrew her hand from the deer spirit’s neck. Her heart was fluttering fast, and she knew every champion was watching her to gauge her reaction. Keeping her voice calm, she said, “Thank you for delivering this message. You may leave.”
Wings outstretched, the feathered deer ran across the chamber and took flight.
After its departure, Daleina turned to her champions and wished she had a chance to process her reaction. Concisely, she summarized the content of Naelin’s message, and then let the waves of shock flow over her as the champions reacted in their usual overly loud manner. After all Daleina had been through, the sound of the champions arguing didn’t shake her anymore. Raising her voice over them, she cut through their debate. “Queen Naelin has chosen to protect the people of Semo and the people of Aratay. By committing herself to this course of action, she prevents a future invasion by Queen Merecot, thus protecting two countries at once. The canopy singers will immortalize her choice and sing of it for generations to come. In the meantime, your mandate is unchanged: continue to seek out candidates and train them as quickly and as well as you can.” In case this all fails spectacularly. She then dismissed them. Except one. “Champion Havtru, if you please.”
She waited until the others had filed out, down the winding stairs. Champion Havtru waited patiently on one knee. He then rose. “Your Majesty?”
“You haven’t chosen a candidate yet.”
“I, um, have been taking Champion Ven’s advice, taking my time to seek out the best possible candidate. I’ve been looking beyond Mittriel, and . . .”
She waved his words away. “Since you aren’t currently training a candidate, I have a favor to ask: would you go north and bring home Ambassador Hanna? Queen Naelin may have decided to take on this risk—and if she thinks it’s the right thing to do, I’m not going to stop her.” She’s going to die, Daleina thought. She’ll be vulnerable in the moment she releases her spirits, and the spirits will kill her. Merecot won’t be able to stop them . . . if she even wants to. And then squelched the thought. Perhaps Naelin, Ven, and Hanna had reason to believe all would be well—Naelin seemed to think so, in her message. Still . . . “She has Champion Ven and Ambassador Hanna there to advise her, and if they believe this is the best course of action, then so be it. But after she has finished being noble and self-sacrificing, there will be no more purpose to Ambassador Hanna’s presence in Semo. I want her safely home, before Queen Merecot invents another disaster.”
“Your Majesty, her guards would be better suited . . .”
“She’s going to argue, and Champion Ven will likely defend her. He likes defending people. It’s his thing. So I need someone of equal rank to Ven to, well, shout him down if need be. A guard can’t do that. But you can. You will need an excuse so that Queen Merecot doesn’t see your arrival as an insult—I’d rather she didn’t know I don’t trust her—so please feel free to invent whatever lie suits you.”
“Very well, Your Majesty.” Havtru bowed. “I’ll bring Ambassador Hanna safely home.”
She laid a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Champion Havtru. And if you could clobber some sense into Ven and get him to come home too, ideally with Queen Naelin and her children, I’d appreciate it.” She didn’t have much hope of that. Knowing Naelin, she’d leave when she was ready, not before, no matter whom Daleina sent. But I have to try.
“You, um, forgive me, but . . . You don’t approve of Queen Naelin’s decision?”
Daleina sighed. It was a brilliant idea that would save both the people of Aratay and Semo—she’d meant every word when she said that. It was selfless and brave and everything that Daleina admired. But it could easily get Queen Naelin killed. “I do,” she told Havtru. “It’s only that I’ll feel better once everyone’s home.”
Havtru wished he hadn’t lied to the queen. But Champion Ven had been both specific and emphatic: Havtru was to keep his candidate secret and safe. And Cajara was worth keeping safe. He’d lucked into choosing a brilliant candidate, even if she herself didn’t know it yet.
Hurrying through the palace, Havtru ran through a mental checklist of what he’d need to do and bring for his trip north. Bedrolls, skillet, soldier rations, bow and arrow so he wouldn’t have to eat soldier rations . . . and double everything, for Cajara. He hoped Ven would approve of the decision to bring her. It was a risk—Queen Merecot had been behind the assassination of heirs—but he also couldn’t afford to delay her training, or risk leaving her in Mittriel unprotected. At least in the north, he’d be with her.
I have to bring her.
It’s my responsibility to make sure she doesn’t die.
Cajara trusted him, and she’d been abandoned so many times by people who were supposed to be her family that he wouldn’t even consider leaving her behind. His job was to strengthen her, not break her again.
He rounded a corner and nearly plowed into a man who was waiting for him with outstretched hands. The man stumbled back but regained his balance as he cried, “Champion Havtru, a word! Please!”
Havtru paused. The man looked familiar . . . “Have we met?”
“Unlikely. I’m only a woodsman. Renet’s my name. But . . . you know my wife. Former wife. Future wife again, I hope, if she’ll have me. But even if she won’t . . . She’s the mother of my children. Please, Champion Havtru, I know you came from the Council of Champions. Has there been any word from Queen Naelin? Are my children . . . That is, I’ve heard rumors . . .”
I do know him. Or who he is. Poor man. He thought of Queen Naelin’s plan to save the people of Semo and Aratay. How do I tell him his former wife is about to risk her life?
“You have! Is she . . .” Renet’s voice cracked. He ran his fingers through his hair. He looked, Havtru thought, as if he hadn’t slept in weeks.
“I’m about to leave for Semo,” Havtru said. “If you’d like me to deliver a message to her, I can do that for you.”
It was the least he could do.
He thought of his own wife. What he wouldn’t give to send one last message to her!
“Take me with you!” Renet cried.
Havtru drew back. He couldn’t do that. He had specific orders, and they didn’t involve transporting civilians across the border. “I’m sorry, but—”