The Mountain Queen

Part II, Chapter Four: The Queen

In the morning, our goodbyes were hurried.  The boys had barely slept; having been up until the wee hours poring over the map of the castle with Cressock, they had arisen well before dawn to pack their scant belongings and make ready to depart.  As the black of the sky turned deep blue and began to pale, I stood with Cressock and Hollitch in front of the little farmhouse, watching my brothers clamber up into Allastrial's saddle.  The sleek white mare shimmered gently in the growing morning light, and I realized, with a pang, how much it must grieve Cressock to part with her.  Letting her go spoke volumes about his love for Quarros—and his trust in the boys.

Shamus and Brody.  My brothers.  I had hugged them both fiercely before they had climbed into the saddle, but suddenly I felt that it had not been enough.  There was more to say—though I scarcely knew what.  Be careful, I wanted to shout.  But I held my tongue.  Why should they carry the burden of my worry?  They knew the risk they were taking.  To see how much I feared for them could only make it worse.

In the front of the saddle, Shamus nodded gravely to the three of us and flicked the reins.  The horse trotted forward, and Brody glanced back at me over his shoulder, his face lit up with a dazzling smile.  It was a smile of infinite reassurance.  We'll be all right, it said.

In a few moments, the horse's tail disappeared over the rise, and Cressock and Hollitch and I were left alone, gazing off in the direction in which our friends had vanished.

"They're fine lads," said Hollitch approvingly.

Cressock nodded.  "Almost men," he said.

Hollitch looked across at me.  "And you're a fine lass too, young lady.  You're sweet to worry.  It does you credit.  But they'll be all right.  The gods are watching them."

With a satisfied nod, he disappeared back into the house.  I didn't have the heart to tell him that I had seen no evidence of any god watching anyone—outside of this valley, with its magical up-swirling stream.  The world my brothers were returning to was hard and unforgiving, and no gods had walked there since my grandfather's grandfather's time.

Cressock was watching me, and with an effort I met his gaze.  His eyes asked a question, but I didn't answer it.  Instead, I asked my own.

"What am I doing here, Cressock?  What role am I to play?"

Cressock sighed and looked out across the brightening world.  "Now that all the bustle and bluster of the court is leaving us," he mused, "this place will be quiet again.  Perhaps quiet enough to hear destiny speak."  He gave me an apologetic smile.  "I don't have the answer, Silah.  But I feel sure we are closer than ever to finding out."

I nodded, though I was far from satisfied.  I half-wished I had gone with my brothers—but what good would it do to say so?  Instead, I followed Cressock in to breakfast, which Hollitch was already cooking up.

*          *          *

I had wanted to go into the main valley to watch the court's departure, but Cressock said we had better keep out of sight, in case anyone should ask us where Shamus and Brody were.  After breakfast, Hollitch busied himself about the farm, and Cressock and I pitched in here and there, carrying water or feeding the goats.  Late in the morning, Felvin arrived, looking moody and restless.  He plumped his massive body down on a rock and crouched forward over his knees, watching Hollitch work with vague, unseeing eyes.

Cressock came over to him.  "How was the great ceremonial departure?" he asked.

"Neither great nor ceremonial," Felvin complained.  "Truth be told, we all had a bit too much last night.  It was a beastly early hour to wake up and wave farewell to all one's comforts.  But of course, I had to be there at the queen's side.  I don't know how you got out of it."