//AN: Sorry about the random and unannounced absence. Will try to keep you informed of any breaks in the future.//
Torvola’s arrival hadn’t gone unnoticed. It seemed like mere minutes after she stepped off the ship four guards in red and yellow tabards and polished plate approached the docks. A similarly armored woman stood in front of them. Her helmet was off and tucked under her arm, her short auburn hair was plastered to her head and her pale cheeks had a distinctly rosy color. She stood next to a smaller and younger man who was dressed in a finely embroidered red tunic with absurdly puffy sleeves and leggings.
“Lady Torvola,” he said with a polite smile, “Queen Venera has heard of your arrival and welcomes you back to Iron Bay.”
Torvola heard Brehna snort from somewhere behind her, “Really rolling out the red carpet for you huh?”
Torvola ignored her, “She knew I was coming?”
The man’s expression sobered, “We heard of some great calamity befalling our western coast. Queen Venera figured you’d travel here in search of aid. We didn’t anticipate you’d arrive here so quickly.”
“The winds were kind to us,” Torvola said, “Is she ready to hold an audience?”
“Not yet,” he replied, “She has just returned from a trip to the east. She will meet with you and your party first thing in the morning — for now she invites you to stay at the castle as her guests.”
It didn’t take long for the porters to load what meager belongings they had into a cart to haul up to the castle. The woman guard approached Torvola, clearing her throat and looking pointedly down at the sword hanging from Torvola’s belt, “No weapons are allowed in the city … and especially not in the castle.”
“Captain Guin,” the man argued, “Torvola’s an esteemed guest, she-,”
“She’s not a guard,” Guin replied, “Lady Torvola may have history with the queen, but she’s still bound by the same rules as any other citizen under the queen’s rule. That means no weapons.”
Torvola unfastened the sword from her belt and handed it over; Guin took it and gave it a good look over. She partially unsheathed it and raised her eyebrows, “You took good care of this blade.”
“Of course I did,” Torvola said, slightly offended that the Guin seemed surprised by that fact.
“I suppose it isn’t too hard to maintain a blade you never use.”
“Excuse me?”
Guin ignored her and turned around. She handed the sword to another guard and walked away. The man shrugged sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head, “You’ll have to forgive the captain… she’s a little blunt.”
“Hmm,” Torvola thought Guin seemed more pissed than blunt, but she kept quiet. She told herself the opinions of a woman she hardly knew didn’t bother her … shouldn’t bother her. She tried to banish the feeling of unease from her mind and turned to the man, “I don’t believe I caught your name.”
“Ach,” the man hung his head in shame, “Where are my manners? I’m Sir Adren, attendant to the Queen.”
He gestured up the street and towards the castle, “If you don’t mind m’lady, we should get going.”
Despite the guards that flanked them, Torvola kept looking around her and scanning the crowd for potential threats. Irozia’s capital felt different and yet strangely similar. Buildings that were destroyed during the final days of the bloody siege to retake the city were rebuilt in red and white stone. A tall and slender building pierced through the city’s center and spiraled into the sky; the afternoon sun glinted off the structure’s iron walls. Word of the absolute eyesore of the new mage’s academy had reached even Torvola’s small corner of the queendom. Now that she saw the iron tower that loomed over the surrounding buildings, its cold gray metal a harsh contrast to the warm rosy tones of the rough stones that made up the buildings in the inner city … she thought “eyesore” was underselling it.
Torvola and her party weaved their way through the throngs of people who packed the streets, both denizens and visitors alike. The narrow streets opened up into a large market where peddlers from all corners of the continent hawked their wares to passersby. A man nearby cooked meat on a portable stove by his stall; the fragrant smell of herbs and spices mixed with the smell of woodsmoke, animal waste, and sweat.
In spite of the stress she felt about being surrounded by so many, Torvola smiled and a sense of pride swelled in her chest. Venera had really brought her realm back to life.
Torvola walked past a group of older citizens; a few looked curiously at her as she passed and their furtive whispers didn’t escape her notice even if she wasn’t close enough to hear exactly what was being said. She wondered if they recognized her after all these years or if they were more curious about her entourage. She glanced behind her at the rest of her group.
They made their way through the market and up the hill to the fortress that sat atop the peak. A pang of nostalgia shot through her chest at the sight.
The castle looked more welcoming than it once had, its towering walls of red and white stone practically glowed golden in the warm evening light. Sentries armed with crossbows and clad in red and gold livery patrolled the ramparts. A long stone bridge spanned the deep ravine that separated the castle from the rest of the city. A pair of guards stood by the front gate, and as the group approached, she noticed their grips tightening slightly on their polearms. They stood at attention as Torvola passed.
Good.
Their discipline had not waned in the years of peace.
They entered a large courtyard and, as she looked around her, a strange feeling of familiarity pulled at her chest. She could almost see herself riding into the courtyard with the queen after an exhilarating ride through the countryside. They’d have handed their horses off to the men tending the stables off to the left. To the right was an apple tree, it had been barely a seedling when she left – planted after the castle siege. It now was fully grown, and its white blossoms bloomed in the spring air.
Then she turned her attention to the center of the courtyard and stopped as she looked upon a stranger. Smiling down at her was a statue of a heavyset woman in plate armor. She stood proudly with her chest puffed out and her hand rested casually on the hilt of her sword. Her long hair, delicately curled, was tied back in a ponytail. An eye patch covered her right eye.
Torvola swallowed thickly. She was always leery of them wanting to make a statue of her — she thought it too gaudy, and too much for a woman who had barely done anything of note except her duty. However, Venera had insisted on the statue to be a symbol of the strength of her realm and as a homage to the woman who had personally led her army through the castle gates to get rid of her despot father once and for all.
“Lady Torvola?” Adren’s voice broke her out of her reverie.
Torvola blinked, “Sorry. Did you say something?”
“As we said, we were not anticipating your arrival to be so soon and we apologize as we were not ready to receive guests. She will meet with you tomorrow but hopes you’ll find your old quarters to your liking,” Adren repeated patiently.
“Where would the rest of my party be sleeping?” Torvola asked.
“We will have some sleeping spots set up for your party near the kitchens,” the man said.
Torvola chewed on her bottom lip; she was uncomfortable with the notion of sleeping alone and separated from those in her village. It had been weeks since the attack and the instinct to protect them was still there, “I don’t require my old quarters … I can stay with my party by the kitchens.”
“Don’t be an idiot Torvola,” Helgi spoke up, “You’re being offered a room in the queen’s castle for Thoran’s sake.”
Torvola noticed Adren stiffen visibly at how casually Helgi conversed with her. Torvola said, “Very well, I’ll take my old quarters if my party can stay with me.”
“We don’t need-,” Helgi began to say but trailed off at the look on Torvola’s face. It wasn’t pity she saw, rather a tinge of fear and concern. Torvola wasn’t doing this out of pity; it was out of protection, “I mean … I’d be honored.”
“I’ll have the servants get sleeping spots set up in your quarters then,” Adren said and his eyes lit up as his gaze settled on an elderly woman who was walking towards the keep, “Ah! Rehni!”
The woman turned around to see who called to her, and the moment she saw who Adren was with she was running across the yard and embracing Torvola in a hug, “Lady Torvola! You’ve returned!”
Torvola wasn’t quite expecting the firm hug and she stiffened at the sudden contact and fought the urge to throw the woman off, “It’s good to see you too, Rehni.”
As if sensing her discomfort, Rehni let go of Torvola and looked her up and down with a critical eye, “You haven’t been eating.”
“I-,” Torvola began to say.
“I’ll have the kitchen staff cook you and your guests a meal fit for the Queen herself,” Rehni said, she clucked her tongue disapprovingly, “You leave and completely forget how to manage yourself.”
Behind her, Torvola could have sworn she heard someone cough to suppress a snicker.
“I also need you to prepare sleeping spots in Lady Torvola’s chambers for her guests,” Adren said.
Adren led the group into the keep, up a couple of flights of stairs, and down an empty hall ornately decorated in plaster coated walls adorned with red and gold banners. They reached a dark, wooden door and Adren opened it and allowed the group to walk in.
Torvola laid eyes on a room she thought she’d never see again, it was split into two sections: a rather modestly sized seating and lounge area with a happy fire crackling in a hearth on one side and an equally large bed chamber. Helgi stared in awe at her surroundings, this room was as big as the small hut she and her wife shared, “You lived like this?”
“Yes,” Torvola said.
“Why’d you leave?” Jamen signed.
Guilt. Agony. Trauma. Cowardice.
“I was looking for adventure elsewhere,” Torvola said as she signed.
“And you thought our village was filled with action and excitement?” Helgi asked.
Torvola shrugged lamely and signed, “I liked the fish.”
That night, Torvola lay in a bed that was too comfortable and too warm to sleep in. She finally gave up on the futile effort of slumber and lay on her back, staring at the walls that held so many memories. Her first night in this room she was high off of the victory of battle, head swimming with drink and belly full for the first time in what seemed like ages. It was the last good night of sleep she had gotten in a long while. Every night after that was spent studying the walls and ceiling until every small crack, every little knot in the wood of the ceiling overhead was seared into her memory. She thought she’d finally sleep once she found her way to the coast, far away from the castle and the memories it held.
However, much to her infinite frustration, it didn’t work.
The faces of those who died, the blood, the pain of an axe blade slamming into her cheek and carving a bloody swath through her eye … it all sat seared into her memories, waiting for the peace of slumber to come roaring to the surface. Her arms and chest ached, yearning to hold Saxus to her chest and let his warm fur and heartbeat lure her into restless slumber.
She turned on her side, grabbed a pillow and hugged it tightly to her chest as her eyes finally slid shut.
***
The rain was different in the interior.
While out on the coast, the rain came in the form of a dreary drizzle or a gentle patter of tiny drops; the rain that fell on the castle that morning was far heavier. The rain came in heavy sheets and pounded against the slate roof of the castle. Every so often a low rumble of thunder would punctuate the deluge.
Guards huddled under overhangs in a vain attempt to avoid the rivers of water that cascaded from the eaves. Those servants who had to make the trek between buildings dashed across the courtyard with their heads bowed. It didn’t matter how fast one ran though; they were soaked within taking a few steps outside.
Torvola looked out the window at the scene, glad she and her party were dry and warm inside. She could feel the humidity in the air; it clung to her like a blanket and frizzed her hair.
The clank of armor echoing through the stone hallways brought Torvola’s attention back inside. A pair of guards approached her and her group, “The queen is ready to see you now.”
Torvola pushed herself from the wall and nodded, as they motioned for her to follow, “Normally Queen Venera doesn’t meet with parties outside of petitioning day,” one of the guards commented.
“I’m not just any party,” Torvola said confidently, though inwardly she flinched at the rather haughty tone she had taken, “I am grateful for her willingness to meet with us.”
The guard’s partner elbowed him slightly in the side and whispered something to him. The guard looked back at Torvola and back ahead, it was hard to tell with his helmet, but she could have sworn he had grown a few shades paler. They marched through the hallway and to a set of large oaken doors. Two more guards flanked the doors and at their approach they slammed the butt of their halberds on the floor. With a dull boom and barely a creak, the doors opened to admit Torvola into the throne room and Torvola finally saw Venera. She didn’t hear the herald announcing her entrance nor did she notice the others in the room that openly stared at her. Her attention was solely on Venera.
Venera had grown even more beautiful as she aged. No longer was she the young monarch unsure of her position and the loyalties of her council. She stood tall and proud on the platform her throne sat on. Her most loyal advisers had their heads bowed in respect as she descended the steps and came to the level of Torvola and her party.
Torvola bowed her head in respect and didn’t look up until Venera addressed her.
“Lady Torvola,” Venera’s voice was laced with surprise and concern. Torvola risked a glance upward and she saw Venera’s eyes on her, scanning her form as if checking for any wounds.
All Venera saw was the muscular, iron-willed woman who left her all those years ago.
“What brings you back to my throne?”
Torvola found herself tongue tied, and her throat suddenly felt very parched. She coughed slightly to clear it and said, “I … we need your help.”
It took several minutes to explain what had occurred at the village and the attack on the hilltop. Venera was quiet, listening intently to the report; if she was troubled by anything Torvola had said, she did a good job at hiding it. Torvola was the only one who could see through Venera’s guise. The slight clench of the jaw, the overly perfect posture, the subtle crease of her forehead — what Torvola had said had frightened Venera.
Torvola didn’t blame her as she had every right to be scared. The news was objectively frightening.
Venera slowly stepped back and onto the platform of her throne. She took the briefest of moments to collect herself and said, “Guards: please escort our guests back to their quarters.”
The guards stationed at the door nodded and began to usher everyone out of the throne room.
“Lady Torvola can stay,” Venera said before Torvola could turn to leave.
Once again bowing her head, Torvola said, “Of course Your Majesty.”
Venera motioned for Torvola to follow her, “We’ll discuss this with my council in the study,” she said.