Chapter 42 | The Queen Who Ruled by Herself

As soon as the sun had fairly risen, Macca called Nowa to her. The queen's eyes were swollen and red, but her face was hard. “Find me some leggings or trewes of some kind--something I can ride properly in.”

“Ma'am, you can't possibly be considering mounting a horse!” gasped her lady. “You're four spokes along!”

“My son is safe, or will be when I'm done. Move, Nowa!”

Wallek met Nowa hurrying out of the pavilion, and stopped her gently. “Lady Nowa, how is the queen?”

She shook her head. “I fear very much for her, Wal--my lord,” she finished. Her own eyes were raw from many days of crying, for she was the youngest daughter of the former Duke of Valmouth and had stayed by Macca's side despite her father's rebellion. “I'm sorry, Lord Valmouth.”

“Oh, my lady,” said Wallek. “I wish with all my heart it hadn't been your father, of all the men in the world.”

“So do I, my lord, but for different reasons. I am ashamed of my father's part in this, and though I loved him with all my heart, his death was fair and just. I am no longer noble, I am just plain Nowa. My father's home is yours now. My only home is with my lady.”

“Nowa,” said Wallek, taking her soft hand in his callused one, “if you will let me, I will give you a home. You must know--you have to know how I have always felt about you. I could never speak before because I was so far beneath you.”

“Mihall,” said Nowa, “this--it's too soon, I can't--I must be about my lady's business.”

Wallek hung his head. “I know. I know. I just wanted you to know that you--you are not alone in this world. You will never be alone in this world as long as I am alive, whether you accept my suit or not.” He kissed her hand and let her go.

When he entered the pavilion, Macca was waiting; she had seen more than he had wanted her to. “Mihall,” she said quietly, “you have my entire permission as Nowa's guardian to court her.”

“Oh, your majesty,” said Wallek, his blue eyes filling with tears, “I would not have had you see that just now, nor cause you any pain!”

“My love is dead, dearest Wallek, but yours is alive. Life is short. Love her now. When she is ready, you have my consent. I will tell her myself. Now,” she said, “ready the men, and find me a horse. I will ride at their head to Marsury.”

“Lady, I can't let you do that,” said Wallek stoutly.

“I don't need your permission, Wallek, or any man's now,” said Macca sharply, though her face softened when she saw how worried he truly was. “Mihall, I will be fully guarded by the Teacher.”

“As he guarded your husband?”

“Teacher will atone for that mistake, believe me, though it was not deliberate. I will be safe, and we will approach under a flag of truce at any rate.”

And so the lords barricaded inside Marsury Castle looked out and saw Macca riding out before a small party of Brothers, a flag of truce at the fore. She rode astride, dressed in trewes; beside her rode the Teacher on a white mule. “This is a good sign, don't you think?” said Leutefloss nervously.

“She couldn't be surrendering?” added Barle. “I mean, I expected she might, but not until after her men had deserted. Her men have been deserting, haven't they?”

Henrik watched his old enemy approach. “She's not surrendering. I don't know what she's doing, but I don't think she'll ever surrender even if she's the only one left in her army.”

Macca came to a halt. The Teacher made a gesture, and her voice boomed loud over the castle, magically amplified; it sounded as if she were standing there among them on the ramparts. “You, traitors and scum, you who have killed your king! Your new king lives inside me, and I am Queen Regnant by Ilhovin's command until my son's majority. Will you try to kill us now, too? Will you continue to follow Henrik of Belleth?” She spat the name like a curse, and put her hand on her belly. “For if you do, I swear on this child that I will see you all dead, and soon. I am Regent, do you understand? The loyal lords follow me! The magic obeys me! The Bloody One gives me strength! The Brothers of Farr are with me!” The Brothers surrounding her gave out a roar; it echoed against the castle walls, and when it reached Macca's encampment, the Brothers massed there roared in response. “You, what do you have? The cracked walls of a castle, a dwindling handful of men and a few hundred peasants!”

Macca let her horse come a little closer, and stood up in her stirrups. “When I am finished,” she raged, “I promise you no two stones of this castle will remain one atop the other!” With that, she whirled her horse around and rode furiously back to her camp, leaving Leutefloss and Barle pale and shaken, and Belleth seething. He turned on his heel and took the stairs down into the castle's depths, leaving his allies watching Macca's party return to her camp to the cheers of her men.

“I think that now is the time to put our alternate plan into action, Rek,” said Lord Barle faintly.

“I--” Leutefloss swallowed hard, his face waxen. “Gods, Adden, I don't know--”

“It's our only chance,” said Barle, gaining his composure again. “We're outnumbered, and the men we have left are increasingly unnerved.”

“I can hardly blame them,” said Leutefloss. “It's hopeless. Our outer battlements are already crumbling, they've captured our trebuchets, and their own siege engines will be here any day.”

Barle clutched the other lord's arm. “We must do it, we must do it now while we still have the chance. If we do it now, she will spare us! Rek! Listen to me!”

Leutefloss turned hollow eyes to his friend. “Do you honestly think she will let us go?”

“Yes!” hissed Barle. “She's a woman, and she's the queen! We will throw ourselves on her mercy as the Mother's representative, and she will have no option before the other lords but to forgive us!”

“You're right, I'm sure you're right,” said Leutefloss, voice strengthening. “Yes, she must forgive us! You're right! Very well,” he said, taking Barle's hands, “we will act, and save ourselves.”

Not two hours later, as the Brothers were readying the trebuchet crews to begin softening up the castle walls for an attack, a party rode out from the castle, behind its own flag of truce. At its head were Leutefloss and Barle; behind them came a rider leading a horse with a bundle across its back. “Let them through,” said Macca, still in her improvised riding clothes.

Barle and Leutefloss rode straight into the camp, finally dismounting and leading the burdened horse up to where Macca stood, flanked by the Teacher and Wallek. They gestured for help, and two soldiers went to the horse to take the bundle, but stepped back when it began to struggle feebly. “It's all right,” said Barle hastily. “We've brought you a gift, your majesty, our way of showing you our fealty to you.” The soldiers shouldered the bundle off the horse, stripped off its covering and dropped the man beneath the burlap to the ground at Macca's feet in a kneeling heap; it was Belleth, beaten nearly beyond recognition and trussed like a pig for the spit.

“Well, my lord Belleth,” said Macca coldly. “Are you here to beg for your life along with these two?”

Henrik looked up at her through the blood already crusting his eyes. “What is the life of a traitor worth? I betrayed my best friend for your sake, bitch.”

“You still believe that,” she said, shaking her head.

“You were a poisoned vine twining around him, Macca of Sairland,” he wheezed; his ribs were staved in, and breathing was hard. “You will twine yourself around this kingdom and strangle it. Mark my words, men of Tremont! Let a woman lead you, and watch the kingdom die!”

“Enough!” said Macca. “Hold his head.” The soldiers pulled his head back, holding him by the hair and wondering if she would order his throat cut. Instead, she reached for the dagger at her waist, seized his tongue, and cut it out as he screamed. “I told you, Belleth, I told you next time I'd take it all!” she cried, throwing the bloody flesh on the ground. She wiped her dagger on a cloth and turned toward Brother Annert, standing stoically beside her. “Take his head, and take it quickly. I have had my vengeance.” She continued walking toward her pavilion.

“Lady! Mercy, Lady!” cried Leutefloss, falling to his knees.

“We call on you as the Queen, as the Mother's representative among mortals, to spare us!” said Barle beside him on the ground. “Your baby is quickening inside you, Lady! You must have mercy on us!”

Macca turned back, one hand on her belly. “The only Lady I represent is the Bloody One. Once a traitor, always a traitor. Take their heads as well, Brother.” She turned again and resumed her slow walk. Behind her, she heard Annert's heavy sword strike Henrik's head from his shoulders as the other two screamed, then a liquid gurgle as Annert turned to Leutefloss; the screaming finally stopped with the beheading of Barle, and a great cry of triumph rose up from her men. Macca lay down beside her husband's bier, satisfied, and slept.

Inside the castle, the alarm went up as the deep twang of a trebuchet sounded. The soldiers braced for an impact that never came. Instead, three headless bodies landed with a sickening squelch in the courtyard. The word passed from man to man: “The lords are dead!” The highest ranking surviving officer ordered the gates thrown open, and the defenders of Marsury surrendered.

Macca sat on an improvised throne in Marsury's great hall, and the petty lordlings and officers came before her to kneel and swear to serve her. Not one refused, and all seemed relieved that their lords were dead. When the castle had been emptied of people and treasure, she ordered it destroyed, and at Marsury to this day there is a field of stones that cannot be used to build even so small a thing as a pasture wall, for no two stones will stay one atop the other.