A Queen's Legacy

OOC: So this is a story that I've been formulating in my brain space for a while now and I think it's the one! I've started working on my official first draft for a manuscript, which I would eventually LOVE to be published! If you guys don't mind, or if you just want to, I'd love suggestions, grammatical help, or just your opinions! I'll post updates every now and then as more is written (: Let me know what ya think!

A QUEEN'S LEGACY The sun perched gracelessly atop the Wall. It seemed to shimmer and gutter in the early autumn heat. Last night's rain fled upwards from the cobbles and gutters under it's watchful gaze, filling the air with muggy leavings. Despite this, the streets were lively. People bustled about on business of every sort, pulling carts and pushing half-wagons. Above us all banners hung limp and lifeless from awnings and overhangs, giving the cries of the peddlers full eminence and adding specks of color amongst the brown and grey. The smell of spices and roasting meat and manure added a unique vibrancy you couldn't find anywhere else in the city. Night folk were just getting out and about, but our own shift was nearly done. Odd as it was to have drawn a turn with Day Guard, neither Cedany nor I were complaining. There was a saying among Lord Arin's rushers that where the sun bred peace, and the moon bred chaos. Surrounded by the heat of the day, tempers soared, but men waited until the cool of the night to right any wrongs. Sunlight hours were a time for business, and so it was that we patrolled the market spaces, keeping our eyes sharp for pickpockets, thieves, or con men. As it was, we'd found one man passing fake silver and reprimanded three younglings for diving into coffers they had no claim to. I turned to look over my shoulder, seeking out my watch partner. She still bore the black eye she'd earned in a brawl two nights ago on Cartmans Street, and under my worn leather braces I hid a bandaged slash from an errant blade. Three others in the Night Guard were in the infirmary for broken bones, and one for a head wound that everyone suspected he'd die from. Yes, Day Guard was a pleasant change from months prowling the alleys by night. The moment the sun was out of sight we would be clear to report back to the courtyard for muster. I knew that at this very moment our friends in the Night Guard would be milling about, joking and teasing and wondering what the night would hold. It had been a hot, miserable day, and I sent out a quiet prayer of thanks that my sister and I had been spared. Cedany was a pretty thing, spared so far the broken noses and mismatched cheekbones of the veteran rushers. I had not been so lucky, and would carry the scar on my right eyebrow and cheek for the rest of my days. Still, all things considered, it was better than starving. “Aye there lasses,” a voice said, breaking into my thoughts. He harbored the heavy brogue of the city slums. He eyed our silver and blue undershirts with a careful eye, smiling. “Either 'o you lookin' to buy a bauble or trinket? Got's me a fair beautiful-” “Not interested,” Cedany broke him off. “We're on duty, lad.” The man puffed up, face taking on a tint of red. “Now, don't you scorn me, high-classy-lassy, I'll 'ave you know 'ese bits and pieces is-” Cedany loosened her sword, lifting it only an inch and letting it fall back down into it's sheath. The soft click it made was enough to halt the man's speech. I guessed the man had assumed we were fresh out of the academy, soft and sweet as peaches, ripe to picked. “Now you listen here, ye brute,” Cedany said, slipping into poor man's cant to catch his ears. We may have been taught better since, but it was hard to forget slum blood. “I'll be havin' none of your tricks here! I ent no poor lass withou' a bit of sense between my ears. Con me outta me eatin' money, will ye? Git outta me face afore I stick this sword so far up yer bum yer tongue turns ta steel!” If he had pegged us wrong before, he had our true measure now. The familiars at the market, the sort with permanent stalls or them as set up here every day, watched us with gaping mouths. I was certain they'd spent a fair amount of time snickering and cracking jokes at our expense, as folk well familiar with one another were wont to do. The man looked from Cedany to me, face pale, and I raised my brows. “T'wer it me in yer place,” I whispered, “I'd do as she says.” He backpedaled and disappeared amongst the crowd. We'd only hired on as Lord Arin's rushers two years past, but it made us more senior than most young folk in his service. Almost all under two and a half decades or so washed out in training or were killed flat out of the gates. Granted, most of the latter were soft bred golden babes, joining up to seek glory and adventure. Them who've been fed their whole lives and never really worked for much don't come into it knowing what they're up against. Personally I'd rather have been born into wealth, but this was the life the gods gave me this go around, so I suppose what's done is done. We walked only a while longer, canvasing the South Market, stopping now and then to check if folk were passing true currency or had their trade papers. Every so often we'd find some fool trying to peddle this or that without Lord Arin's seal, and those were the worst to put in chains. His taxes were hard, and almost all you could earn went back into keeping your rights to sell. Most folk still figured it was better than begging, but there were always the unlucky exceptions. For all those we hauled in for selling under the law, we took as many parents who'd maimed a child to set out begging. Poor folk found coin hiding in the strangest of places. Cedany joked occasionally that the streets have gotten fair passable now that the temples pay to have them cleaned, and that it was a sad state when folk had to shovel their neighbor's scum to feed their babes. As the market place fell into shadow, I let out a sigh. Time to head in. We made our way through the streets, climbing upwards ever so steadily, to the castle that sat atop the center hill. It was a grand, dark building. Folk said it had sat atop Griffyn Hill for longer than man had even existed, that the godsfolk had built it and the Wall too, with ancient magics. It certainly looked that old, but as to old magic I had no idea. It seemed strange to me that mages, even the reincarnated ones, mightn't be able to use a spell after a certain time. Even at the city's highest point the Wall's dark stone stretched above our head, if only by a few dozen feet, by my best guess. At the gates it was an indomitable source of awe, and fear. At then end of the day though, as long as it kept the creatures out, I was content. The closer were grew to the city center, the greener things became. For every sloped, tiled roof there was a flat one with plants and grasses growing atop it. Water barrels sat at the street corners, and here the peddlers sold fruits and vegetables instead of greasy meats. The streets were free of urchins and beggars and dead animals, and for every bit of pig and goat manure there was horse manure too. Horses were a great luxury to keep in the city, and only the families with old gold and ties to farms could afford to keep them. I'd only ever seen a horse three times, and was grateful for it. Dogs and chickens and small creatures I could handle, but the size of a noble's mount reminded me too much of the stories I'd heard as a child, of the beasts that used to ravage mankind. We came to the courtyard at last and found that we were near about the last pair to arrive. It was well known that Lord Arin's master of coin didn't like to leave the castle grounds more often than he had to, so we always waited until the last of us returned before giving our reports. If they were late, we assumed death. If they were simply lollygagging, they didn't get last night's pay. I led Cedany over to the nearest wall, planning to lounge until the call went out, and to enjoy the clean scent of the upper city. Most of the folk that surrounded us, maybe twenty groups in all, were unfamiliar, and I had no real desire to socialize until a familiar trio caught my eye. I nudged Cedany and began making my way forwards. One woman, short of stature and sharp of feature, stood between two very large men. Where her hair was clipped short around the ears, both of the men sported ponytails and long beards. They were identical, wore themselves the same for no reason other than to confuse people. It had been quite some time before Cedany and I had learned to tell them apart. “They put you in Day Guard too?” I called out by way of greeting. The woman turned and while a smile graced her lips, her eyes held suspicion. “Aranya, Cedany. I'd say I'm happy to see you, but it'd be a lie.” Cedany scoffed and crossed her arms, taking offense into her aura. Loriah held up her hands, trying to placate the girl, and her smile turned sheepish. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I meant I think there's dark mischief about, is all, and I'd rather you be left out of it.” I raised a brow. All day I'd been considering it a fluke of sorts, but if Loriah thought otherwise it was worth pause. A cold stone settled in my gut. “Oh?” The man on her right, Willem, sighed. “It's the groups pulled. Have you seen the others?” I shook my head. I hadn't seen anyone else from Night Guard until now. Loriah and the Dunsford brothers were one of the best pairs, and if I had to admit, it seemed like folly to pull them off the streets on a day like today. Cale, Willem's brother, raised a hand and began ticking off names on his fingers. “There's us and you two, of course, but we also saw Pigeon's group and Natyre's. It doesn't make sense.” I frowned. He had a point, each group named had a reputation among Night Guard. In the end I only shrugged. Cedany said, “I agree with Aranya. It's not for me to question Lord Arin. So long as I get paid, I don't care what he does with us.” She shrugged as well. Just then, Pigeon's group of three and Natyre's came into the courtyard. They seemed deep in conversation, troubled, and froze when they saw us clustered together. With universal frowns they made their way towards us. I looked around and saw the rest of Day Guard eyeing us with a degree of speculation. They seemed as caught off guard as we were. Pigeon was a strange woman, but still one who's company I enjoyed. She had a way of letting other's thoughts and opinions of her roll off like rain on a wing. Her real name was not Pigeon, but I could not tell you it. The story went that on her first day of guard duty she bragged that, growing up on the streets, she learned how to coo like a pigeon to draw them. Apparently they made for good eating, but few others seemed to have the taste. She had seemed so proud that at first, it was thought she didn't understand the jokes and jibes. They named her Pigeon to make a fool of her, but in the end it had stuck. Now she was five years into the service and highly regarded to boot. She had dark hair and grey eyes that flashed with worry. She spoke first, as our groups merged, in a low tone. “Well, ain't this a surprise. I don't suppose any of you know the meaning of this?” Cale grimaced and shook his head. “We were just chewing that bit 'o gristle ourselves.” Apparently Pigeon and Natyre's groups had been the last out, because before either could speak up the castle bell tolled. Our watch was officially over. We sighed and turned to the gates, watching as a small man and several soldiers emerged from the castle close. A long path separated the castle walls and the iron gates that kept us from them, and few bore the patience to cope with this. The master of coin, a sleezy man known to us only as Verenthon, seemed to take his time every single shift. “Mayhaps he wouldn't be so sour if he'd only hire apprentices to handle the later musters,” Pigeon muttered under her breath. Cenday grinned and said, “Heaven forbid there be someone our Lord might replace him with.” Verenthon called out the first pair, a regular on the Day Guard, handing one a small pouch of coin. It was up to us to decide how it ought be split, which was why we were allowed to choose our own walking partners, less it come to blood. One after another was called up, until it became evident us Night Guards would be saved for last. Each group called forth, each that left before us, made us more and more sullen. Finally the last of the Day Watch had fled until no one else remained. Verenthon did a strange thing. Instead of calling a pair forth, he took a step back and craned his small, balding head over a shoulder, glancing back towards the castle. We waved, beckoning to someone I couldn't see. I made no sense of the situation, and turned to Loriah in a certain sort of panic. She had been Cedany and I's training master. We had walked our first rounds with her and the Dunsfords, and even now that we had a beat of our own her opinions of such held weight. She only sighed, and said, “And here it comes. Well, lads and lasses, we'd best face our fate.” She was the most senior among us, having been working the streets of Roostryn for fifteen years. To a guard, that was ancient. Criminals knew the shape of her boot prints, knew her favorite places to eat, the routes she might be likely to walk, and avoided them. When she stepped forward, the rest of us followed, whether we wished it or not. Halfway to the gate a man in robes began making his way down from the castle, a pile of scrolls in his arms. My gut turned to water and I felt my knees wobble as I walked, the cold stone in my gut turning to lead. I looked to Cedany, and found her normally pale skin now akin to milk. One of Natyre's girls, Ellewyn Hallis, shoved her hands into the pockets of her breaches and I wagered it was to hide their shaking. At the gate the soldiers halted us without a word, only moving a hand from their belt to hilt of the sword that swung at each hip. Verenthon said nothing, only eyed us, level as could be. By the time the man in robes reached us an uneasy silence had turned the air to mud, and I found breathing more difficult than it should have been. His clothes were fine velvet, embroidered with thread-of-gold and silver. His hands shone with rings, and he wore a strange pendulum about his neck. As to his features, he had a kind set to his face, but his eyes were a hard green. He did not look like he was vexed with us, but I had never seen him before and was too nervous to take his measure. When he spoke, he addressed us all. “Lord Arin requests your talents in a certain business of great importance. Do you all know your letters?” Only Hallis, Natyre, and Pigeon did not. For those of us that did, he passed out scrolls and sticks of charcoal, and bid us write our names under a bit of text. The writing swirled on the page in an elegant hand, and I wondered absently what manner of scholar had drawn it up. I peaked at Cedany's and saw hers to be much the same as mine, word for word. “The form bids you state your loyalty to Lord Arin, that should you disobey his will you forfeit service the the guard and any right to work within the city henceforth.” I was shocked, as if a fist had slammed itself into my belly. I froze, hand shaking so badly that even if I'd wanted to sign I would not have been able. Why did he ask this of us? A sharp elbow caught my ribs and I bit my tongue to keep from yelping. Loriah stood beside me, glaring up at me with sharp eyes. She would say nothing, but the look spoke volumes. Sign, fool. I unrolled my paper and scrawled 'Aranya Eloise' at the bottom without reading whatever it was I passed away. It seemed we had precious few rights as is, but I would not dwell on it. The others we scrawling their names, or in the three illiterate's cases marking an X, so I did the same. The man in robes showed no satisfaction until we handed our parchment back, and he had accounted for each and every one of us. “Welcome, friends!” He may have titled us so, but I was not so quick to believe. His hard eyes had turned warm. “I am Mage Neluin, come to bring you forth into Lord Arin's audience. Come.” He waved two fingers and turned, clearly expecting us to follow. Verenthon walked at his side, chin up and back un-hunched, while the soldiers parted. Loriah once more led us forth, her shoulders set in confidence I wondered if she truly possessed. The soldiers walked at our side, perhaps to escort, perhaps to guard. My mind had latched onto the man's name. Mage Neluin? Not the one the men whispered about in taverns, not Lord Arin's personal mage. There were maybe a dozen trained mages in the city now, perhaps it was just a common calling among magefolk. They said Lord Arin's mage could turn bronze to gold, grow crops in sand and salt, and even bring folk back from the dead. It was the last that so unsettled me, and I kept as far back from him as I could. I turned to Cedany and wanted desperately to know her word on all of this, but no one else spoke, and I did not want to single us out. I could see why it might take Verenthon so long to reach us, now that I walked the path myself. It might have been circumstance, but I could have sworn I spent a lifetime alone on that cobble road. I wanted nothing more than to turn tail, but of the four soldiers among us, one walked at the rear. At the end stood another wall, not a tenth so grand at the Wall that guarded the city, but stone and solid and breached only a by a narrow gate. The portcullis had been drawn up, and I flinched upon spotting it's iron spikes suspended above our heads. I skipped past quickly, nervous that whatever rope or chain held it might give way. I had never been into the castle before. For all that I was scared, I could not seem to keep my eyes within my skull. They bulged, begging to be set free so that they might see the wonders around us. Gardens bloomed so wide and deep that I wondered if they might be called farms. The slope of the hill and shelters atop the wall had been deceiving, making the castle seem much larger than it was. The stone house was still the most impressive structure I had ever visited, excepting perhaps the Grand Temple, but only because this did not have so much colored glass. It was not the structure that held me though. Within the wall a small village seemed to thrive. I saw blacksmiths at work, toilers working amongst the soil and plants, men moving cattle and boys driving geese and sheep. An open face stable showed seven horses right there, larger than any I'd seen before. They milled about until catching wind of us, at which some shied backwards and others kicked their stalls. Nervously I skittered aside a pace or so, and earned myself a scoff from a soldier for my troubles. When folk caught site of Neluin they stopped whatever chore they had been about and bowed. Certainly he is the mage they all speak of, I told myself, and didn't know what to make of it. Within the village the true castle rested, with several towers and more shimmering glass windows than I'd seen one building. The sun rested below the wall now but they glowed ruby still, reflecting the clouds. It was not guarded by guards in tatty leathers or rusted mail, but men adorned in shining metal plate. I could see jewels glinting at the pommels of their weapons. The castle's front gate was no portcullis, but instead broad wooden doors, arched and engraved with striding horsemen and hounds and beasts I could not name. I thought I might stand there all day reading the carving's story, but we were hustled on. “Would you look at that...” I murmured to Cedany, awed. “On'y a man wiv more gold 'en sense would spend it on fancy wood,” Cedany murmured back in poor man's cant, rolling her eyes, resentful. On her other side Pigeon snickered. If I thought the doors were worth a day, I could have spent a year in the hall. It's floor was stone, only it was hewn and level and fit together without gap. On the far sides lay rushes, but a carpet of blue and silver rolled out down the middle, leading towards a raised platform, upon which sat a long table and fifteen chairs. More tables with benches on either side lined the walls and sat mostly empty, but at a glance I could guess they might house up to two hundred people. The windows were tall and veined veined with metal in curling designs, with panes cut to fit the strange shapes left in between. Between the windows hung wide, tall pieces of cloth embroidered with magnificent depictions of people and beasts and places I had never fathomed might exist. Neluin did not halt at all, and his pace was far too fast for my liking, distracted as I was. I had almost forgotten to be fearful. I wondered how I would ever sleep tonight, back in the slums. Cedany and I shared a small room in a lodging house, within nothing more than a three-legged table and two pallets to sleep on. Our windows had no glass, only rickety shutters. We had no horses or soldiers or gardens, only rats and filth.