She stood at the edge of the archery field, watching evening spread out across the western sky. She wore the clothes of Betany’s army, albeit in modified form. Ashe was still enjoying the novelty of her new purple shirt: one of the castle cooks doubled as a dyer, and in September and October the local countryside yielded a mass of blackberries. Once the jams and jellies had been made, the dyeing began in earnest. Ashe liked the odd connection.
The day had been bright and windy, good weather for drying clothes but harder for archery practice. Ashe had spent long enough sharpening up her sword-fighting skills; and as she’d been interested in the art of archery, it hadn’t taken much encouragement to get her out onto the practice field. But there were distractions, and the field faced west, so that by the end of the day she was always held up as she took time to admire the sunset.
Narrowing her eyes and allowing for the breeze that was coming from the north, she took aim and let the arrow fly. At first she had been too diffident and precise about the process. It was Betany who’d pointed out the odd thing: that if Ashe didn’t aim for the target, she invariably hit it every time. This had caused some amusement – not all of it on Ashe’s part – and the discovery had improved her skill. Soon the war would begin and Ashe would be ready for it. As ready as anyone could be.
The arrow struck the target an inch or two from the centre. Ashe saw as much when she crossed the field to check her aim. She was aware that she was becoming a little obsessive about practising, but she no longer wanted to be unprepared for anything. Calliope was almost as keen, although it was suggested by some around the Caer court that Calliope would have embraced anything that Ashe pursued. For Betany it was easier: she already knew how to shoot.
She had tugged down the close-fitting purple sleeves, and was grateful for the wool-lined jacket Betany had ordered for her. As she put out her hand to take back the arrow she heard a low growl, and stopped dead.
Ashe was used to the karg, and to Gowdie. After the one and only confession she never again admitted her preference for the big cat over the talkative young woman. She never failed to be impressed by the power of those among the court who could – and regularly did – change. She was used to talking with women who looked human enough one minute, and nothing but big cat the next, but the beast that trotted out of the trees and came toward her that evening was no karg, and Ashe felt no sense of reassuring recognition.
The hand that had gone out toward the body of the arrow hesitated, and Ashe let her arm slowly sink back down to her side. This beast was thinner and finer than the kargs, but it lacked the same finely-treated coat. This animal, somewhere between lynx and wolf, looked exhausted: its eyes cloudy, its fur a mass of soldiers’ buttons and mud. Ashe could see traces of blood on the fur that stuck up between the pads of its feet. The beast stared at Ashe who – instinctively – looked back but not directly. She studied the ragged fur, the ears that had been torn about by thorns or other animals, and wondered if she was about to die long before she ever reached the battleground Calypso was eagerly preparing on the other side of the country. News came in every day, it seemed, of the rigorous training undergone by the now combined forces of Lammor and Mercia.
Ashe watched the beast without seeming to, and tried to maintain her breathing at a steady pace: she had held in her last lungful just long enough to make her head spin on exhalation, and she needed to address that tendency. She didn’t want to startle this animal.
The rolling eyes regarded Ashe. Had Ashe been close enough to see, she would have seen reflected in the dull green eyes her own reflection in miniature. She had no weapon left: her last arrows – the last she’d shot that day – were still deeply embedded in the practice targets, and for the first time in her memory, Ashe had not left the castle with her sword held securely across her back. She held the empty quiver in one hand, her bow in the other. The bow would be a weapon of sorts, of course, but not a very good one. If asked to bet on the outcome of the meeting, Ashe would have put her money on the beast.
The sunset was still a beautiful affair. Ashe was aware of it at the far edges of her perception. On either side of the sinking sun ice crystals that gave off a look of iridescence. The trees everywhere carried the first light coating of new growth; the willows, always the first trees to leaf, seemed to have hung about them a haze of green. The grass was heavy with dew: Ashe’s boots would have been soaked through, had they not been freshly oiled. The overhead sky was the same blue as Calliope’s eyes; the colour of the sea seen at a distance. Ashe had been happy in the field, shooting her arrows, not thinking of anything much. She had left the castle in the same easy, comfortable state, which accounted for her forgetting her sword – left leaning against the broad wooden bed, no doubt – and her happy mood. She was still a little bemused at the blend of herself, Calliope and Betany, but as Betany said: why question what was working perfectly well? It looked as if Ashe was going to pay a very high price for letting pleasure make her forgetful.
The beast dropped down low and began to make its way past the targets and toward Ashe. It was growling, steadily but stealthily. Ashe thought about what possible use she might put the quiver or the bow to, and deliberately and slowly bent to lower them to the ground.
She wondered if anyone might have seen her from the castle, and decided that no help was likely to be forthcoming. Ashe wondered if being eaten hurt very much. The beast was still moving toward her, and without thinking what she was doing, Ashe dropped to one knee, feeling the dew immediately start to soak through the soft leather breeches that had been another of Betany’s presents. Once Ashe had accepted the new shirt, it had opened the floodgates. She’d had to fight to hold onto her old boots, but everything else she wore was new. Calliope and Sam had been similarly overcome and overpowered by Betany’s wardrobe and almost embarrassing generosity.
Ashe’s movement startled the beast, and its ears pricked up. What very handsome ears they were, Ashe observed: larger than the karg’s, and tufted. Ashe thought that she’d once seen statues of creatures like this, but couldn’t remember where. She thought briefly of the night before and it struck her that if she was about to die, she wouldn’t have much left to regret. Still, it would be better not to die. Without thinking about the action, she reached out a hand toward the beast, just as she would have done to any dusty street cat in Lammor, in the hope of drawing it toward her.
The growling died away. Ashe said, “I’m not going to hurt you,” and the beast leapt at her. The movement was so fast that she could do nothing to avoid it. Ashe fell over backwards on the wet grass, the breath knocked out of her, the beast immensely heavy, the weight of it worst just over her heart. Ashe would have coughed and coughed, had she had sufficient breath left. The beast’s paws held down not just her ribcage but also her upper arms. Its back paws weighed down Ashe’s legs. There was absolutely nothing that she could do. She felt a burning sensation where each separate claw had just broken the skin, and looked up into the beast’s eyes, seeing nothing but green light shining at her.
As if from a great way off, Ashe heard shouting, and the sound of people approaching. Wrong again, she thought: someone could see you from the castle. She heard Betany’s voice telling someone to hold back. She thought she could hear distinguish Calliope’s voice from the others. She heard the faint and distant but immediately recognisable noise of someone drawing back a bow. The beast turned toward the sound, snarled and lifted its head to gain momentum for its fatal bite. In that split second of movement Ashe did the only thing left to her, and jerked her head forward and upwards, catching the beast in the throat. She rolled away as the beast shifted to the side and was sitting up with her arms outstretched to hold off any attack. The beast let out a truly awful howl, and, as Ashe knelt on the grass, the beast began to spin.
It went in circles, round and round. Ashe stared; the beast spun. Ashe felt the dew soaking through her clothes. The beast seemed to be chasing its own tail, on and on in blind concentration.
The noise the beast had made would not stop, and it hurt Ashe’s already aching head. Betany reached Ashe, a sword already drawn and ready in the hand. She tried to tug Ashe away from the scene. But Ashe couldn’t move: she was fascinated by what was happening. Something inside her was making sense of the changing blur.
There was a noise like nothing Ashe had never heard; it was like the crash of a tombstone falling. There emerged from the blurring smoke two shapes: a large black cat that ignored Ashe and sat down some distance off, and began washing itself. The second was a woman, her face white and shocked. While the cat groomed itself, the woman swayed, and would have fallen to the ground had Ashe not leapt up to catch her up. She looked into the shocked and filthy face and said, “Hallo, Cairo.” She glanced down at the cat sitting on the grass and added, “Hallo, puss.”
Rhea’s cat ignored Ashe and made off instead in the direction of the castle. Cairo, on the other hand, wore the dazed expression of the recently enchanted. She looked sick and confused. When the retching and coughing had subsided, (Ashe felt guilty about the head-butt to the beast’s throat, but how was she to know?) Ashe put an arm around her and with Betany on the other side, helped Cairo into the castle. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rhea’s cat heading purposefully toward the castle kitchens.
*******
“By this time tomorrow we’ll have covered a good stretch of land and will be setting up our tents for the night.” Calypso had it all arranged with her operational captains. Tents were being packed, loads sorted out and in the stables every last preparation of the multitude of horses was being attended to. The stable-hands missed Cairo’s intervention and organisational skills almost as much as they missed her easy manner and good looks. Now they were all of them rushing about like harvest mice in August, but to far less effect.
Laure looked at Calypso and then glanced into the courtyard where there were horses, soldiers, packs, weapons and boxes of supplies. She nodded to herself and turned to Calypso. “You’re really excited about this, aren’t you?”
“Not excited, exactly. But it’s good to feel the blood pumping round - ”
“Yes. Really excited.” Laure looked unimpressed. “I thought that sex was your main motivation, but now I can see that it comes second on your list: a lust for blood seems to top the list of your delights.”
“For the co-author of this war, you’re doing a good job of trying to undermine every last preparation I’m making.”
“I wish.”
“Sorry?”
“I said, I wish. I wish I could undermine every last stage of your preparations. I wish I could spoke every single wheel of your bizarre intent. As I can’t – without needlessly putting my own people at risk – all I can hope for is that the casualties are few and far between.”
“Don’t hold your breath.” Some way off, Ashe was holding hers, and wondering if she was about to be eviscerated.
“I’ll send back the injured to you. You’ll have to oversee the hospital ward. I imagine that won’t be too much for you.”
“Oh. You’re assuming I’m not coming with you.” It wasn’t a question: it was a statement. Calypso stared at Laure.
“Why would you want to come with us? You’re needed here, looking after Lascar. We’ll have an extended hospital ward here, so that some of the injured can be sent back. You can manage Lascar, can’t you? We’ll need a good back-up, with food and other supplies being sent out on a regular basis - ”
“If I can manage Lascar… Calypso, I was brought up to run this country. Had you forgotten that? And by the way, have you even considered what will happen if Lascar comes under attack, with its army half a world away under your empathic leadership?” Laure couldn’t pack any more disdain into her tone.
“Lascar will be perfectly safe.” Calypso was quite clear on that point. “Remember, Laure, we’re taking the fight to them. We’ll be well away from them.”
“Ah, but will they be far away from here?” Laure walked over to the desk on which Calypso had put the first drafts of her battle-plans. “This looks very official and intimidating,” she said. “But what if it all goes wrong?”
“You know, if you weren’t my consort, I swear I’d have you thrown into the dungeons for attempting to demolish the morale of my soldiers.”
“Mm. You could try that. But then, they’re my soldiers, too, and their morale is my… flower-head.” Calypso stared at her.
“Your flower-head?”
“Did you never do that as a child? You take the petals off the flower, one by one. She loves me, she loves me not. Or, they’ll go to war, they won’t go to war. They’ll go - ”
“Spare me the rest of the petals, your highness.”
“Why should I spare you anything, Calypso? They’re my people, too. Just because it’s mostly Lammoran soldiers under the command of Mercian captains. Oh, that reminds me, what are you going to do about Alexis? Are you going to trust me to look after her, and to maintain those nightmares you call transfusions? Can you trust me to look after her?”
“Call me paranoid if you like, but oddly enough, I don’t trust you with Alexis. I’m taking her with me. I’ve got a cart arranged to take her.”
“When you come back, if you come back, and Alexis is recovered…”
“Yes?”
“I want you to send her back to Mercia. I don’t want her here in the palace. She goes back with a deputation of my people. And it’ll be a joint rule there as here. Alright?”
“Next thing you’ll be suggesting that when I’ve won this war, I should go back to Mercia.”
Laure looked at Calypso with liking, without anger. “Do you know what? That sounds like a wonderful idea to me. I’ve thought about it long and hard and I have to admit that the only thing we have in common is sex. Oh, and ambition. It’s hardly a good basis to a long-term relationship.”
“You’d be surprised for how many people it works.”
Laure gave her a half-smile. “Well, I’m not sure it’s still working for me. Oh, believe me, sex with you is wild and remarkable. I have wild and remarkable memories and bruises to prove it. But is it enough to build a shared life upon?”
“I don’t recall your making any complaints.”
“Then call this the first one. But I shan’t be doing any more complaining. I shall simply remember.” She walked away and out of the room, leaving Calypso the cluttered desk and mass of plans, the little shapes that represented soldiers, horses and weaponry, and the absolute sense of having been dismissed.
*******
Cairo had emerged into this new world in her own form, but exhausted, filthy and confused. And there in the midst of muck and puzzlement, stood Ashe. Just as Ashe had had trouble believing she had her friend back, so Cairo was now fighting doubts when she looked at the person purporting to be Ashe. Rhea’s cat was much easier all round: once she’d visited the kitchens and been fed – no kitchen at Caer Arianrhod would ever deny a hungry cat – she’d somehow found her way to the room that Betany had chosen for Cairo.
Cairo couldn’t believe that it was it really was Ashe who had appeared out of the confusion and held her tightly. She was the only one present who had known Ashe as she had been. While Betany, Sam and Calliope saw Ashe as she stood before them, Cairo could only compare the figure before her with the Ashe she’d known in Lammor. Cairo could at first see nothing but the scars. The scars were not all: Ashe sounded different, and the sense of not-fitting that Ashe had carried about with her all her years in Lascar, was gone. Cairo wondered what Laure would have thought about the changes in Ashe.
Betany oversaw the whole episode, with Calliope’s immediate assistance. Both went racing about to help Ashe’s friend, and both of them were wondering – feverishly – if Cairo and Ashe had been lovers. Since their first shared night, the three had ended up together almost every night. They did their best to make Cairo comfortable and happy, and then backed away with a kind of genial ferocity. Without them, Cairo’s room seemed very quiet.
Cairo emerged from her bath to find Ashe alone and awaiting her. Ashe smiled at her. “They’ve left you a whole new wardrobe, Cairo. I’m afraid that your old clothes weren’t going to get you very far.”
Cairo dressed, tying her trousers at the waist, pulling down the soft tunic and admiring the fabric. She looked at Ashe and noted the nice lines of her clothes. “You seem to have a certain cachet around here, Ashe.”
“I fulfil a need,” said Ashe, smiling. “And I have some good friends here. Cairo, I hate to start off on such a negative note, but you do need to know the facts. Mercia and Lammor have joined forces. They seem to be out to conquer the world. Betany – whom you’ve just met – and Arkana, whom you’ll you meet later on - will head the first two armies that take them on.”
This was so unlike Ashe. Cairo said, “And you, Ashe? I don’t want to know where you are; I’m wondering more, what you are…?”
“I’m still me,” said Ashe. “I’ve undergone a few changes is all. Life has been quite… eventful since I left Lascar. But more of that some other time. Do you know how things stand there now?” Cairo shook her head.
Ashe took a deep breath and did her best to fill in the gaps in Cairo’s knowledge. Cairo’s memories of Lascar dated to no further forward than the night she’d fallen asleep in Rhea’s tower. “It’s a blur after that. I remember beginning to wake up, and then it all just goes…”
Betany and Calliope spent a dignified, almost silent evening, pretending to play chess and watching Ashe with Cairo as the two friends sat by the fire and compared notes. When Ashe walked Cairo back to her room – it was an easy castle to get lost in – Calliope and Betany, who had happened to be passing by the corridor end, saw Ashe hug Cairo goodnight and then head off toward her own room.
At the opposite end of the corridor Ashe hesitated, and looked toward the two figures. She grinned cheerfully and put out her hands toward them.
Calliope and Betany ran along the corridor, giggling like a couple of kids.
*******
In the hospital ward of Lascar palace, something was happening. The morning had brought its usual demands: Ruth was still raving, Alexis had gone, carried by Calypso’s soldiers, and there were still servants inside packing up medical supplies. That day it was one of the Elders’ servants, a young apprentice, who was there to dress and feed the former wise-woman. When she had dressed Rhea and led her to the table where breakfast had been placed, she turned to order one of the others to fetch a jug of milk – someone in the kitchens had slipped up – only to hear the former wise-woman say, “Thank you, love, it’s kind of you I know, but I would prefer a cup of ale.”
The apprentice stared, dumbfounded.
Laure rushed down the steps towards the hospital. She was only half-dressed, but that hardly mattered. She took the last corner to the ward on bare feet, skidding on the marble of the floor. She saw Rhea at her place at the ward table and ran toward her. She put out her hands – much as Ashe had done – but to less effect. Rhea said, “That’ll be Laure, I think.” Laure put a hand up to her mouth. “Hallo, love,” said Rhea, in a kinder tone that she had ever used before to the once-princess, now queen. “I know it’s you. You always smell of fresh flowers.”
Laure burst into tears. It was the first time she’d cried since the funeral rites. Rhea opened up her arms and took Laure inside them, as she had never done before, as she might never do again. She might be blind but she knew what was needed.
*******
“I don’t believe it!” Calypso had been called away from essential preparations and her temper was none the better the interruption. She had seen – how could she fail to see – the old wise woman up on her feet again, vulnerable and unsteady and utterly bereft of magic but sane, Gods help her, sane! And Alexis had heard the news, too, and was almost out of her mind. The Elders working on and around Alexis in the cart that had been assigned her had had to bind the sick woman’s feet and hands: the fury working through her had excited her limbs and intensified the bleeding. Calypso had to order the strongest sedative the Elders could use – dared use – to keep Alexis from bleeding to death there and then. She climbed into the cart and sat beside Alexis just long enough to whisper to her, “You’ve got to calm down, Alex. That’s an order. Treat it as one. If you don’t calm down, this is going to kill you. Calm down and breathe easy and don’t dream. Just sleep.”
Calypso shook with suppressed anger and disbelief: it was all she could do to send back the order to have Rhea’s throat cut. That bloody old woman! What possible use did she serve? What a shame that the world had out-grown the practice of making a sacrifice before the commencement of such an exhibition: Calypso could happily have selected at least two potential sacrifices. But the army was already some distance from Lascar, so Laure’s heart beat on and so did Rhea’s. The wise-woman had known better than to make her first remark when Alexis was in the ward with her. There were reasons why Rhea had lasted as long as she had.
*******
Cairo woke early the next day, feeling rested and sore but much better. She dressed in the clothes that had been put out for her and then, concentrating as best she could, she set off in the direction of Ashe’s room. When she reached it, she put out a hand to knock on the heavy wood and then hesitated. Very gently she put out a hand, turned the handle and pushed the door open.
Inside, Ashe, Calliope and Betany lay together in a kind of amicable knot. Despite the scars that covered what was visible of Ashe, Cairo could see a glow about Ashe that she’d never noticed before. A happiness, too: Ashe slept with the ghost of a smile on her face. Cairo gently closed the door again and went back to her room. On the staircase she passed Rhea’s cat. “I almost miss sharing a life with you,” said Cairo. Woman and cat exchanged reluctant glances. Gods, thought Cairo, lying back on her bed, the cat beside her, grooming itself: who would have guessed that I’d end up with the fucking cat!
*******
Betany and Arkana were discussing the initial conflict. Arkana said, “Cairo, Ashe’s friend. She is not likely to want to fight against her old country, but I think that Ashe herself will come with us.”
Betany looked surprised: it had never even occurred to her that Ashe would not fight with them. Why else had Ashe been working at her archery, polishing up her sword-fighting skills? “I know she will,” she said. “But you’re right: we’ll have to give Cairo the option. I know she won’t betray us in any way.”
“She was bewitched for a long time,” said Arkana. “Being bewitched does strange things to people.”
“Stranger than sharing a shape with a domestic cat.”
“True: what could be stranger than that?”
Ashe could be stranger than that. Stranger than that would cover the underwater reconstruction. She had called in on Cairo, to show her where they’d assemble for breakfast, and where the bathing houses were. Cairo seemed different to Ashe, less confiding, less confident. At last Ashe said, “I don’t expect you to fight with us, you know. Are you worrying about that? Don’t. You’re a Lammoran, born and bred. I wouldn’t have you fighting even if you wanted to.”
“I don’t want to, I think,” said Cairo. She felt awkward. “Ashe…” It was hard to spit out the words.
“Yes?”
“You’re involved with Betany, aren’t you? And Calliope.” Ashe nodded. “It’s just that in the old days, I was always trying to partner you up with somebody, and you never seemed to like any of them, because you never took any of them.”
“You’re bothered about them?” Cairo shook her head. “If you’re wondering, I do know that sooner or later, Calliope will have to go back to the river she came from. Or the sea, maybe. I don’t know how these things go.” Ashe smiled. “Does that answer your question at all?”
Cairo smiled. “I didn’t really have a question,” she admitted. “It’s just the shock of seeing you being so different to your time in court. I mean, the change is as much physical as anything else. You even sound different. Is there anything else that you’re likely to spring on me?”
“No, no more surprises. Oh, but I should mention one thing.” She looked a little embarrassed.
“What? You’re not really Ashe after all?”
A funny little silence descended on the two of them. Ashe thought how simple it would be to say, yes. Instead she said, “You’re right about my being different. After I left the city I… I don’t remember much about that time…” Suddenly she didn’t want to tell Cairo all that had happened. Her memory was greatly improved, but aspects of the past were still uneven and inaccessible. “I got hurt, and the water spirits helped me. That’s how I met Sam and Calliope.”
“I see. I don’t think I’ve met Sam yet.”
“No, you haven’t. She spends much of her time with Gowdie. She’s very nice.” Ashe remembered waking beneath the tree, wondering why she’d slept so warmly with only that cloak – whose cloak? – to keep her warm. Not realising that it had been the extra body-heat that had kept away the cold. “She’s a water spirit, too.”
“You’re going to miss them.” Ashe nodded. “But Betany; she’s not a water spirit, is she?”
“No, she rules this country. Cairo, I’m afraid I’ve somehow shocked you,” said Ashe.
“No.” Cairo shook her head. “It’s just the change… The change in you, Ashe. And in me: I’m still getting used to being myself again.”
“Has the time been very strange for you? I guess it must have been.”
“Probably no stranger for me than you. But, oh, Ashe, I’m sorry. I’ve got bad news for you.” She had forgotten about Rhea. She had forgotten about being human: the night before it had taken all her self-restraint to drink from a cup, rather than lapping up the fluid from a dish. Desperate to get the words out, but feeling sick as she spoke them, she said, “They did something to Rhea, Calypso and her little sidekick, Alexis. I went back to Rhea’s tower afterwards, after she’d been taken to the Elders. I thought that maybe I’d find something to explain what happened to her, and it was after that that everything began to change.”
Ashe felt a coldness spread through her. “I have bad news for you, too, I’m afraid. What a joyless reunion, Cairo. I’m sorry. Jura and the queen are dead.”
“Oh.” Cairo sat down hard. “Were they murdered?” She could think of no other explanation.
“No. Nothing like that. But the queen was ill, and when she died, Jura just didn’t want to go on.”
“I can understand that. When I saw Rhea – what they’d left of Rhea – it felt as if every part of my world had been tainted.”
“But that doesn’t mean I’m expecting you to fight with us, Cairo. Lammor is still your world – it never really was mine – and I want you to go back there, if that’s what you want. We could arrange it. It wouldn’t be- ” But Cairo stopped her.
“No, Ashe. Forget that. And forget about my being Lammoran. I’ve done with all that. Lammor has been burned out of me. The last few weeks have been bizarre to say the least, but it’s been an honest time. Do you know what I mean?”
Ashe nodded. “That’s how I feel about being here. For the first time in my life I’m not trying to be something I’m not. And all the old rules and regulations seem to have been sloughed off me. I’ve become someone in my own right. Sometimes it makes me dizzy to think about it”
“Ashe, if you want me, I’ll stay here and fight with you.”
“I’d be delighted. I don’t believe there’s anyone here that knows more about horses than you do. But how will you feel if and when you come face to face with someone you grew up with; someone from the stables, or someone from the court, and have to fight and kill them?”
“Well, I can’t go back to Lammor, can I?”
“Yes, you can. Why not? Calypso will be leaving Lascar any day now. You could slide back in. I’m sure that Laure would be happy to see you again.”
“Alright, imagine me going back to Laure’s delight – or not. And then I get pulled into the war. And what if we come face to face, Ashe? What if I have to fight you? What if I had to kill you?”
Ashe shrugged her shoulders again. “You’re right. I couldn’t fight you.”
“If I go back, you might have to.”
Ashe said thoughtfully, “There is no easy answer. Give yourself a few days if you like.”
“No.” Cairo looked tired and sad, but she had made up her mind. “I didn’t understand, before. But when Rhea’s cat and I were joined, I stopped being Cairo. We shared a form, and when we became our old selves again, yesterday, I knew that I’d lost something by the exchange. It didn’t feel like a release, it felt like returning to all the trappings I no longer want.”
“Gowdie – Betany’s sister – is half-karg. I mean… she transforms into a karg. I hate to say this, but when she’s a karg, I think she’s great. We’ve joined forces twice and she’s the best fighting partner you could ever hope to have. And when she transforms back into Gowdie, she drives me nuts.”
“So you can understand that being human again is not necessarily the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Have you…” Ashe scowled. “Have you thought about talking to Rhea’s cat about this?”
Cairo stared at her. “Have I thought about talking to the cat? Ashe, that’s insanity.”
“Is it? It makes perfect sense to me. The two of you must have gotten on alright together – you got here, didn’t you, after all, and broke the enchantment.”
“No. Ashe, I think the enchantment was something to do with you. I, we, whatever, had been searching you out. I admit, once we found you, we were thinking about eating you, but when that desire faded, we both wanted to be back with you again. It wasn’t an example of the two of us getting on well – it was just a means to an end.”
“An end that meant you going back to being Cairo, head of the stables?”
Cairo said, “Ashe, I hate you.”
“Alright. There have been times when I’ve thought that I might be happier as an animal. It’s a simpler life, though not an easier one. What’s wrong with going back to being a beast? Believe me, I reckon the most acceptable form of life is a water spirit. I have more respect for them and their way of life than I ever have done for my own.”
Cairo said, “You’re joking, aren’t you, Ashe?”
“You know I’m not. Come on. Let’s go find the cat. After all, if she doesn’t want to merge with you again, it’s a moot point. If she does, well, then we have to consult someone who really knows their magic.”
They were already walking toward the castle. “Ashe, this is crazy.” Ashe smiled at her.
“Believe me, I’m not leaping around with delight. I had hoped I’d have you back as a friend, but that was in a world that no longer exists.”
“You’d still see me.”
“You know what I mean, Cairo. No more climbing onto the palace roof with a flagon of perle, and staying up there until the stars burn out. But I’m selfish: I want you to be happy.”
“A funny kind of selfishness.”
“Would you prefer me to say, Cairo, that whatever it is that you want, what I want is for things to be back exactly as they were before. But that world went up in smoke: Laure and Calypso set the fuse. I’d like to be back and sitting on the roof, but there’s no way of bringing back that world. I would like to have you living down the corridor from me forever, but I don’t think that it’s what you want. Go and talk to Rhea’s cat. Go. Now.” She grinned warmly, and gave Cairo a gentle push in the direction of the castle.
She watched Cairo walk away. How strange, she thought: you get someone back that you’ve missed, and next day, you try to send them off again. I wonder if she has any idea of how much I’ll miss her. She thought about the lies she told: she didn’t want the past back, but she wanted Cairo in her life, all the same. She didn’t want to go to war, but she would have liked to have stood against Mercia with Cairo at her side. She walked slowly toward the castle, aware – not for the first time – of a heavy ache in the region of her heart.
*******
Laure had watched the courtyard empty, had watched Calypso wave a final ironic salute to the country she had struck and taken in the manner of a shrike staking out its prey. Despite the impending war, everything seemed so much better now that Calypso was out of the palace. Give her another couple of days and she’d be out of the country, too. Laure could hardly wait. She saw Rhea enter the far side of the courtyard, led by the little apprentice, who seemed much happier in Rhea’s service than she ever been, working for the Elders.
“You look a thousand time better already,” said Laure, smiling at Rhea, smiling at the young woman with her.
“I miss my magic,” said Rhea, matter-of-factly. “But then, there’s always the hope of getting it back again one day. I just have to work out how to do that. And of course, without my magic, it’s hard to do that.” With a complete change of conversation she said, “I think you were very wise, your majesty, to choose to remain behind.”
Laure said, “It wasn’t exactly my decision.” She looked at Rhea. “Calypso wanted to lead her troops into battle. There had to be someone waiting here.”
“I think you’ll find that it was far more your doing than hers.”
“Calypso didn’t want me to go with her. I’ll be needed here, if things go badly. But I have told her that once the war is over, I want Alexis back in Mercia. And the rule here is to be fairly shared.”
Rhea was impressed. Laure had evidently gone through some major changes in the preceding weeks. “You’re regretting your decision…?”
“Before you make me regret your recovery, please be sure, Rhea, that I am not regretting letting Ashe go. I admit that perhaps Calypso is not entirely suited to being my consort, but we both know that Lammor was getting stale and old, and I needed Calypso to bring about the changes needed.”
“Oh, yes, the changes. You’ve certainly got those,” said Rhea, tartly. “I must admit: I didn’t see the old Lammor going wrong in any direction. You made your choices based on… Calypso’s attractions, and as a result, Lammor is going to war. Did you really believe our country to be so stale and old that the only way forward was one involving hurt and death for so many?”
Laure looked at Rhea. Rhea felt the temperature drop. Laure bit back the first angry response that came to mind, but she could not entirely crush her anger. She said, “You were once a wise-woman, Rhea. Someone disliked the power you held and took it from you. Don’t you think that you would be advised not to push your views too far or too quickly on this, your first day out of bed? You wouldn’t want to experience a relapse, surely?” There was steel in her voice, and Rhea thought to herself that perhaps the princess – the queen – had not changed quite as much as Rhea had thought she had
“I have angered you.” A statement of fact.
“Yes. But then, you always do push your views too far, Rhea. It is something that I have always found hard to bear.”
“Your mother the queen listened to me. So did Jura.”
“Because they listened to you, doesn’t mean that I should. I am less impressed with your powers than they were. Perhaps your gift has diminished with the years. After all, Rhea, what kind of a wise-woman loses her magic so very easily? The Elders thought you a force to be reckoned with, when all this began. Do you think they still believe that? Do you think that I am going to be impressed by a wise-woman who knows nothing of magic, who can do nothing of magic? Rhea, you have lost a lot of stature.”
“But I see that you have not lost any of your humility, your majesty. And the loss of my magic was not a simple thing.”
“You hurt them both, you know. You affected Calypso’s hands, and thus made her a less good soldier, not to mention a muted lover. And Alexis has been in the hospital since the night they robbed you. There was some kind of accident that took place in your tower, the night they took your magic from you. Alexis’s wound has never ceased to bleed. Oh, and if you’re going to use my title, at least use it convincingly, Rhea. The obvious irony in your tone belies any respect you seem you bestow upon me.”
They faced one another squarely, the blind wise-woman and the new queen. Laure saw an uninspiring figure, an old woman who could not cross the courtyard without a guide. An old woman who needed a servant to help her to get dressed, to eat, to walk about. Rhea’s famous self-sufficiency had been destroyed. She had become entirely dependent upon the world around her, and Laure despised her for it.
Rhea thought: I should have been more tactful. I could have spoken so honestly to her mother, but then, I would never have said such things to her mother. The old queen was a very different matter. I liked and trusted her. I never much liked Laure and she knows it. She did not like me because I made a friend of Ashe. I wonder: did I take to Ashe simply because I knew that Laure disliked her? Perhaps I did. Oh, Gods, I hope I did not. And now there’s nothing good between the queen and I, and Ashe is no longer any part of this equation. I do not know if Ashe is dead or alive, but I think she is alive still. I am an old woman in a changing world and I have just annoyed its leader. This is not sensible behaviour: I am an old woman who seems to want to grow no older…
Laure thought: why can she never keep back the flood of her opinions? I do not want to be reminded of the old times. There has been much change and there is no going back. She said to Rhea, “It might be an idea if you were to return to the hospital ward. Unless of course you would prefer to return to your old quarters. I am sure that your assistant will happily lead you there, and care for you there. Is that not so?”
The young woman nodded eagerly, something Rhea could not see but which she could almost hear. “Yes. Perhaps it would be better if I returned to my own rooms, your majesty.”
“Yes.”
Yes, thought Laure, you do that. Make it sound as if this was your decision, not mine. She watched as the girl took Rhea’s arm in hers and led the old woman gently from their meeting place. Gods, thought Laure, suddenly: how lonely I feel.