Another spoke. “Or if Queen Merecot merely changes her mind. She’s asking us to relinquish our safety net! Aratay has no heirs! If Queen Naelin leaves Aratay and cannot return, for whatever reason, we will again be vulnerable.”
Again, the champions squabbled like a flock of chickens.
Naelin lost track of who was speaking. Reaching across, she extracted the message from Daleina’s grasp and read it. The ambassador’s report was concise, and she outlined her suggestion in clear terms, as well as her certainty that this would solve both Aratay’s problems and Semo’s. “I will, of course, go,” Naelin said.
The champions fell silent.
Lowering the letter, Naelin looked at them. She didn’t see why this was even open to debate, but she tried to formulate her thoughts to explain her reasoning. It was very tempting to say,Because I said so.“First and foremost, Iwillreclaim my children. But second, this is best for Aratay. If I can help solve the problem of Semo, we will be safe from any further invasions. Our people will be safe.”
“But...” one began.
“Do you know I have a nickname already in the outer forest?” Naelin said. “They call me the Mother of Aratay. And I say I will go, for the sake ofallmy children.”
Her words were met with silence—the kind of silence that feels full of unspoken arguments. The champions shifted uncomfortably in their living wood seats. A few of them glanced at the sky, at the ever-present air spirits that circled above the chamber, like buzzards over a soon-to-be corpse.
“I will leave immediately,” Naelin said to Daleina.
At that, the champions began to argue again.
She waited, letting their voices rise to shouting, her eyes only on Daleina.She agrees, Naelin thought.She knew as soon as she read the report, I’d go.
When a moment of quiet descended on the chamber, while the champions drew breaths to argue again, Naelin rose from her throne. “You may debate it all you wish, but in the end, it is not your decision to make.We,” she said, pointing to Daleina and herself, “are the queens of Aratay. Not you.”
She left the council while the champions continued to argue in her wake, like children who won’t admit the game is lost.
Ignoring the arguments swirling around him, Ven crossed to Daleina and knelt in front of her. “My Queen, with your permission, I will accompany Queen Naelin to Semo.”
Behind him, Champion Sevrin grunted. “You want to make the situation worse, Ven? By the spirits, I thought you had more sense than that.”
Rising, he pivoted. His hands clenched, and he deliberately unclenched them. “She’ll need a guard.”
“Send a palace guard.” Sevrin waved in the direction of the stairs. “Better yet, send a squadron of soldiers. Don’t send a champion.”
“Champion Sevrin is correct,” Champion Jalsia said. “Your skills are needed here, now more than ever. Aratay needs heirs! If this is another ploy by Queen Merecot...” She didn’t need to finish her sentence. Nods were echoed all around the council chamber.
It hadn’t occurred to Ven that his fellow champions would object. “Queen Naelin needs—”
“She needs a soldier, not a lover,” Sevrin said, and Ven seriously considered smashing his balled-up fist into the man’s face. If Daleina hadn’t lightly and subtly touched his arm at that very moment, he might have done just that. “And Aratay needs its hero champion,” Sevrin continued. “You’ve heard the songs, I assume? You’re the finest champion who has ever lived, trainer of two queens, warrior extraordinaire, and other drivel. We in this room may know better, but if you abandon Aratay in its hour of need, thepeoplewill panic. The people are counting onyouto find the next queen-to-be.”
Despite Daleina’s hint, Ven’s hand strayed toward his sword hilt. He’d never draw on another champion, but his fingers were now brushing the pommel. Through clenched teeth he said, “I’m not abandoning the people of Aratay; I’m serving its queen.” That any champion would be so shortsighted as to fail to see that—
“You’re serving yourself,” Sevrin said, “as you always do.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Now hedidput his hand on his sword hilt, but he made himself remove it. A fight here wouldn’t help anyone.
“First Queen Fara, now Queen Naelin,” Sevrin drawled. “Some say you serve yourself when you serve your queens.” He pushed himself off his seat and crossed to Ven. Stopped only inches from him. “Some say you think with the wrong sword.”
Ven did not draw his weapon at that. He looked back at Daleina, and tried to apologize without words. One of her eyebrows shot up, but she said nothing.
He turned back around... and punched Sevrin in the face.
With a howl, Sevrin staggered back. Blood poured from his nose, but he wasn’t stunned—hewasa champion himself. With a roar, he launched himself at Ven, fists flying. Ven kicked back, hitting the larger man square in the gut and sending him crashing into the seats. Other champions sprang out of the way.
Daleina’s voice cracked across the chamber. “Enough!”
Ven, muscles still coiled, watched Sevrin as he pushed to his feet. Scowling at Ven, he wiped the blood from his upper lip with the back of his hand. It smeared onto his cheek. “They speak of you with such respect.” Sevrin spat onto the council floor, at Ven’s feet. “They don’t know how weak you truly are, confusing duty for ‘love’ and queens for toys.”
Queen Daleina rose to her feet, and above her, the air spirits shrieked. All the champions reacted—drawing swords, kicking aside the chairs, crouching at the ready—but Daleina stood straight and tall, motionless while the spirits circled. “And what ofthisqueen, Champion Sevrin?”
