Beneath Ceaseless Skies #73 Read online

  Then he dragged her into the Great Dome. They walked through the rings of pillars and she saw the Unicorn Throne, a low, curved seat gleaming like pearl in the sunshine that fell through the eye in the center of the dome. She saw her father lying before the throne in his white-gold robes of state, his graying beard matted with blood. Saw the pool of blood lazily spreading out.

  She choked. One part of her mind kept stuttering, It’s not real, not real, not real, but the rest of her knew that this was all real and true and she had made it happen.

  “Welcome to my new home.” A man stood by the throne in simple gray—shorter than Idrask, and older, but with the same pale blue eyes, and something similar in the lines of his square face.

  Zéphine drew a trembling breath and squared her shoulders. “Who are you?”

  “Launrad Yfir-konungr, lord of all Kyrland and now Retrouvailles. I must thank you for your help, my dear—how does your formal title go? Demoiselle la Plus Pure?” His teeth gleamed as he smiled. “And thank you, Idrask, for finally getting her skirts up. I was beginning to think they made all their guards into eunuchs.”

  “I did better, Uncle.” Idrask’s voice was blank and respectful. “I persuaded her to invoke the Bull. Of course he did not hearken to her in the least, but it made her unable to summon the unicorns. After such betrayal, I’m sure their house has lost the covenant entirely.”

  He was lying. He knew she had gotten at least halfway in the summoning; he had said as much. Zéphine didn’t dare even look at him, but her mind raced. He was the nephew—possibly heir—of an emperor who now ruled half the world. Why could he possibly want to lie about how he had helped achieve an overwhelming victory?

  Launrad clucked his tongue. “Not a bad day’s work, though I’m still in terrible doubt about your manhood.”

  Idrask’s expression didn’t change. “I’ve done as I promised. Now where is my brother?

  “In another moment. We have one more guest on the way—and here she is. Good morning, demoiselle.”

  Zéphine turned, knowing and dreading what she would see. There was Marie, each arm gripped by a guard, her dark hair falling out of its chignon and her mouth set in a rebellious pucker. When she saw Father’s body, her mouth dropped open, lips trembling; then she snapped it shut and glared at Launrad.

  “The situation is simple,” said Launrad. “I control the entire palace. By sunset I will control the capital. Within a few days, my ships will land in your ports. To ensure a peaceful transfer of power, you and your sister will publicly proclaim me lord, then journey to Kyrland and bow before the Obsidian Throne. Or you will die right here like your father.”

  Marie’s glare didn’t falter. “We’re the daughters of Retrouvailles. We bow to no one but the unicorns.”

  Zéphine wasn’t even aware of moving before she was kneeling in full obeisance, hands and forehead pressed to the floor. “Please. She’s only a child. She doesn’t understand. I am a woman, I am the eldest daughter of my house, and I submit. I submit.”

  “Zéphine!” Marie gasped, but she was drowned out by Launrad’s bark of laughter.

  “Say so in public, and I think we have an agreement.” Zéphine rose in time to see Launrad glance at Marie. “There will be time to teach your sister obedience later.”

  “Zéphine,” Marie repeated, eyes glistening. “After Father— how could you?”

  “I think because your older sister wants to live, my brave little demoiselle.” Launrad strode towards Marie. “It’s a desire you’ll understand better as you grow older and realize you’re able to die.” He tilted her chin up with a finger. “You’re much more foolish than her, but also prettier. I think you will be the one I make my bride.”

  Zéphine’s hands clenched. “She’s thirteen—”

  “I can stand to wait a year or three for sons.”

  “But—”

  Idrask gripped her should painfully tight and whispered in her ear, “Don’t. When he’s in this mood, all you can do is obey.”

  “I’ll never submit,” Marie snarled, which only prompted another laugh from Launrad as he turned away from her. “Idrask sister-son. Do you want your brother back now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I have one more task for you. Just one, and I’ll return him.” Launrad was only a pace away from them now. “We don’t need the older princess. Kill her.”

  “No!” Marie shouted.

  Idrask didn’t blink. “I thought you needed her to publicly submit.”

  “I changed my mind. Besides, weddings are much more amusing, don’t you think? Marie is enough. Kill Zéphine right now if you want your brother back.”

  Marie was struggling with the guards and yelling. Zéphine couldn’t move; she felt like she was watching everything from somewhere very cold and far away. She knew what would happen. Idrask had already betrayed and used her. He had helped his uncle invade her kingdom and kill her father. He was content to see Marie forced into a marriage that would be no more than rape. All for his brother. There was no chance he would scruple at killing Zéphine now.

  “No,” said Idrask.

  Her gaze snapped to his face, pale and inscrutable, and now the fear started up and down her body in cold-hot waves. Because she wasn’t going to die, she was going to dangle between them as Launrad’s plaything, the same way she had been the unicorns’—and Idrask again was nothing like she’d thought—

  “You don’t want your brother back?” Launrad raised an eyebrow.

  “I think this is another one of your loyalty tests, and I’m tired of them.” Idrask crossed his arms. “Where is my brother?”

  —but he had still never cared about her, and she was doubly a fool to have hoped that he wanted to save her.

  Launrad shrugged. “You’re right. And here comes your brother.” He gestured. Light glimmered beside the Unicorn Throne and a pale, scrawny boy with tangled dark hair appeared on the ground. His hands were folded over his chest and he lay quite still. Someone must have washed him, because it took a moment to see that his throat had been cut.

  “Kari,” Idrask breathed, and lunged forward. In a second he had pulled the body into his arms; his shoulders trembled, but he didn’t make any sound.

  “You really are the stupider of the two,” said Launrad. “I needed the power to transport men across the sea instantaneously. What did you think the Bull would accept as a binding price? Kari at least knew it would take royal blood.” He shrugged. “Though he was stupidly happy to die in your place. Since you’re still alive, I suppose you do come out ahead.”

  Idrask didn’t look up. “I’m going to kill you.”

  “No.” Launrad’s smile didn’t to break. “If you were going to kill me, you would have already done it instead of talking.” He leaned over Idrask’s shoulder. “But you know that even if you could succeed, you would die and so would this princess. You’ve just demonstrated that you’ll risk your own brother’s life to protect her. So I think I’m safe.”

  For a moment there was no sound but Idrask’s slow, trembling breaths. How do you like being the one betrayed?, thought Zéphine, and felt a moment of pure, vicious pleasure.

  Then Launrad clapped his hands once. “But I can give as well as take. You refused for so long to despoil Zéphine, and now you’re unwilling to kill her. It’s only fitting to let you wed your tainted demoiselle. Here and now. Guards!” He raised his voice slightly. “Bring in the ministers of state.”

  She wouldn’t have to face the unicorns. She would get to marry the man she had wanted. Zéphine was getting what she’d always desired, and she wanted to crawl away in shame. Surely she deserved punishment as much as Idrask did.

  Four guards marched out of the room. In a moment they would bring in Father’s ministers and Zéphine would abase herself so that she and Marie could stay alive. She looked back at Idrask. If he had not started all this killing, he had certainly helped. He had betrayed her. His brother was dead in his arms.

  He was the only possib
le ally for her and Marie.

  She walked forward to lay a hand on his shoulder. Then she looked down and felt faint when she saw the edges of the cut in Kari’s throat. He had been sliced open like a piece of meat. Swallowing, she knelt beside Idrask.

  She whispered, “You can’t avenge him unless you get up right now.”

  He didn’t reply. But he laid Kari, very gently, back on the ground and stood beside her. At the same time the guards brought in five of the ministers of state, rumpled and downcast. One of them was bruised and one was spattered in blood.

  “Good morning,” Launrad said cheerfully. “You’re here as witnesses. Idrask Leifsson, my sister-son, is about to marry your eldest demoiselle.”

  Zéphine swallowed dryly. Yesterday she had been thinking wistfully of how she would like to kiss him. Now she was marrying him.

  Her father’s body lay six feet away on the ground.

  The ceremony was mercifully short—after the style of Kyrland, she supposed, though surely their royal weddings were usually more elaborate. Launrad asked them if they would be wed, grasped their hands and asked if anyone knew of an impediment, then without a pause put their hands together.

  “Thy hands are joined and so thy lives. Zéphine, it pleases me to accept you as a daughter of our house. Guards, take the prisoners away. Idrask, I suggest you take your bride to your room.” Idrask’s hand clenched around hers and he glanced back towards Kari’s body. “We can talk about the funerals later.”

  Without a word, Idrask strode out of the room, dragging her with him. Marie called her name, but when Zéphine glanced back, she was already half-out the door. All she saw was Launrad, still smiling as he stood beside the bodies and the empty throne.

  * * *

  Idrask took Zéphine back to her bedroom. He slammed the door shut and slumped against it, releasing her hand.

  Her room looked exactly the same as when she had woken up this morning: red-and-gold papered walls, white-and-gold curtains flowing from the canopy over her bed, great gold roses molded around the top of the walls. Her silver comb still lay in the corner where she had thrown it in a fit of anger.

  She turned back to Idrask. He had slid down to sit on the floor; now he stared blankly at the walls.

  “So.” She knelt before him. “Would you care to explain what’s going on?” He didn’t respond, and she sighed. “Soldier, I command you to answer.”

  “Not a solider,” he muttered. Then he looked straight at her and grimaced. “I was never your soldier.”

  “I guessed that part. Launrad sent you here?”

  He nodded. “To bring down the defensive spells through you. He said—” He stopped to draw a slow breath. “He killed our father. Nobody can prove it but everyone knows. He’s used Kari and me as hostages against each other since I was ten. Three years ago he had Kari locked away entirely. He said when he owned Retrouvailles, he would exile us together.”

  She tilted her head. “Why didn’t you seduce me when you had the chance?”

  He looked away. “I thought I could do anything to protect Kari. I was wrong.”

  Something in her loosened, but she still had to say: “Do you think my maidenhood will comfort me when my country is invaded, my father is dead, and Launrad is raping my little sister every night?”

  “I never said I was doing the right thing.” He stood. “Launrad won’t lay a hand on your sister. And you’ll be a widow tomorrow.”

  “What?” She scrambled to her feet.

  “I’m summoning the Bull tonight. My life has to be worth his.”

  “That won’t help. The palace is full of Kyrlander soldiers; they’ll just put another king over us.”

  Idrask slammed his fist into the wall. “Then what do you suggest? He is always smarter, he is always stronger.”

  Zéphine’s chest felt tight. At the dawn of Retrouvailles, the legions of the Imperatrix had occupied the country from sea to sea. When Ysonde Blanchemains first called upon the unicorns, she had destroyed them all in a day.

  But if Zéphine had ever had a chance of summoning the unicorns, she certainly didn’t now. And Marie was far too young.

  “...I could summon the Bull.” The words came out weakly. She hadn’t been able to kill herself to escape a fate worse than death; she wasn’t sure that she could do it to save her sister and her country.

  “No. I won’t—” He stopped, took a breath. “I lied to you.”

  “I know.”

  “About the Bull. He... could listen to anyone’s call, but it is our house that has a special covenant with him.”

  “Like Retrouvailles.”

  “More or less. Ever since the first yfir-konungr hanged himself upon an oak tree to call upon the Bull.” He smiled bleakly. “Then had his wife run him through with a spear to complete the offering. Ever since, any one of our house who calls upon the Bull is heard.”

  “I’m your bride.”

  “In name. I don’t think the Bull cares about such things.”

  Zéphine hoped she didn’t look too relieved. “Surely there are Kyrlanders who don’t like Launrad. You could make alliance with them.”

  Idrask gave her an edged smile. “He left them all in Kyrland.”

  And of course Idrask couldn’t go back to find them without Launrad’s help.

  “Look.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I can get you and your sister out of the palace tonight, then summon the Bull. Launrad hasn’t named an heir yet; in the confusion, your people will have a chance to rebel.”

  Zéphine opened her mouth, then closed it. Despite everything, she didn’t want him to die.

  She didn’t have a choice.

  * * *

  The evening sun slanted low and ruddy through the windows. Zéphine lay on her back, staring at the top of the canopy. A trembling servant had finally brought her food several hours ago. She had devoured it and continued waiting.

  If Idrask got them out, they could find the surviving nobility and start a rebellion. She knew it. Nobody would follow a despoiled princess: she knew that too. Marie was their only hope. Zéphine had never danced for the unicorns, so maybe Marie could inherit as if her older sister had died young; but maybe Zéphine would have to become unicorn bride after all.

  On the run, there would be no draught of waking sleep. After all she’d done, she probably deserved it, but she was still afraid. So afraid.

  The door clicked open; Zéphine sat up, brushing the hair out of her face. It was Idrask, holding Marie by the arm.

  “I’ll be back after dark,” he said, and left.

  Marie bolted forward to hug Zéphine. “I was so scared,” she whispered into her shoulder.

  Zéphine smoothed her hair. “You’ll be fine,” she said automatically. When was the last time she had embraced her sister?

  Marie lifted her face. “I was scared for you. What did he do, to make you grovel so?”

  “He threatened to kill us.”

  “You’re still a princess!”

  “I’m still a prisoner.” The words snapped out full of bitterness; when Marie frowned, Zéphine remembered that this was the first time she’d ever voiced rebellion. Even though she had nothing left to lose, her heart still skipped and she added hastily, “Anyway, a dead princess won’t help anyone.”

  “What do you mean, prisoner?” asked Marie.

  And she’d had enough of silence. “What else could I mean? We are bound in the palace by spells, to stay here until we dance or die. If we survive to become queens, we can leave but we can never go far because we must return to the palace and dance every month, while our husbands rule in our names. And when we die, we are nothing but meat to fill the unicorn bellies.”

  Marie shook her head. “But the unicorns.... Zéphine, you’ve seen them. How could you want... anything else?”

  Zéphine looked away.

  “You have seen them, right? You always said you did!”

  She pushed her away. “I lied.”

  Marie’s mouth formed
a little circle. She barely whispered, “Oh,” as she sat down on the floor. Her fingers gripped the carpet for a moment.

  “I lied every day. Morning, noon, and night.” Her voice wavered and her throat ached but she couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. “I lied and I lied and I hated you so much. Because you could see the unicorns and you were going to live and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She dropped into a crouch before her sister and stared at the carpet, her eyes stinging. “I broke the defenses on the palace trying to escape and I would take it all back if I could.”

  “Oh,” said Marie again. “That... I suppose that’s why you were so unhappy.”

  Zéphine looked up. “You knew?”

  Marie had pulled her knees up under her chin and hugged them to herself. “I could tell you were angry with me. I didn’t know why. But you were always so unhappy, I knew that something was wrong.” Her voice dropped to a rough little whisper. “I always wished I could help you.”

  Zéphine reached forward and took her hands. “Marie.” She swallowed. “Idrask told you we’re going to escape, right?”

  “Mm.”

  “I made everything go wrong. And I can’t dance for the unicorns anymore. But I’m going to get you to safety. I’ll find Father’s generals, and we’ll rally the army and drive the Kyrlanders out of our country, and Marie, someday—someday you’re going to be the best Reine-Licorne that’s ever been. All right?”

  Marie’s mouth curved softly upwards. “Will you be happy then?”

  “Yes.” Zéphine knew it was a lie—she wouldn’t ever be a good enough person to be happy just living for others—but she had to say it. “We’ll be together and I’ll be so happy.”

  * * *

  Idrask came for them several hours later. He gave them packs and cloaks and lead them down the narrow corridors used by servants and guards, until they were almost halfway across the palace. Then he said, “Wait here. I only have a few men, and I need to make sure they’re in position.”