The Queen's Consort by Brown Eliza

Author:Brown, Eliza [Brown, Eliza]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2013-10-18T23:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

Hilltop was more of a crossroads than a real town but, twice a year in the spring and fall, it came to life at sowing and harvesttime.

Now it was early summer and Hilltop should have been a ghost town of graineries and warehouses awaiting the bountiful harvest. Instead the hot, dry weather had driven the population for miles around to the town to support the Queen’s army.

“My Queen,” the mayor greeted them in the town’s open square.

Clairwyn swung off her horse and walked forward to meet him. “I am glad to see so many people here. Hopefully they have come to swell the ranks of my army.”

The council was made up of mostly middle-aged men and women, and they were all eager to talk to her. “There is no work for our men in the fields this summer,” a man said. “Little snow fell in the mountains this year, my Queen. And the rains have not yet come. The hard ground that serves your troop so well for training will bear little fruit this fall.”

“That will never do,” Clairwyn said, looking at the cloudless sky. “We have stores enough to feed our people through a long winter, but we must have more to feed an army through what might be a long war.”

“We must have rain, my Queen, and soon. Or this year's harvest will be lost.”

“So little is required.” Clairwyn leaned down and closed her fingertips around a pinch of dust. “And yet it is so desperately needed.”

Everyone watched as she put the dust on her palm, then lifted her hand to her lips. She blew out gently and the dust seemed to swirl and grow darker, heavier, larger, and then seemed to expand.

Anxious murmurs swept through the crowd but Clairwyn started speaking in a calm rhythm. Although he didn't understand the words, Ansel recognized the language of the Highlands.

The darkness swelled to envelope them, then the crowd, then the watching army and the whole town of Hilltop and all the way to the distant horizon. But, before the crowd could panic, it started to rain.

It was a slow, steady, soaking rain, exactly the kind that farmers loved best. Clairwyn lifted her palms and her face and laughed out loud.

The mayor and the council put their heads together. “My Queen,” the mayor said, “the councilmen and -women have agreed. Their young men will sow the fields, then catch up to your army as it marches.”

“Excellent. I could ask for no more—except, perhaps, a dry place out of the rain?”

“Come inside, my Queen. We have prepared your largest warehouse to receive you and your party.”

The warehouse was cavernous and filled with chairs and tables. There was room for the mayor, the council, and other distinguished guests as well as the Queen, Ansel, her Guard, and two entire squadrons of her soldiers.

Massive beams rested on the stone walls and lifted the roof high overhead. Ansel listened to the sound of rain on the roof and realized it was metal. Metal? It astonished him.

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