Nights of Villjamur - Mark Charan Newton [103]
She sat back further into the carriage. “Thank you, commander. Your skill with words and encouragement is a great help to one so new and unversed as myself.”
She then heard the commander order the escort of Dragoons to move on, and the carriage was in motion.
Next stop: Villjamur.
Lines of troops kept back the refugees by sword and bow, making sure none dared closely approach the roadway. They formed two distinct lines on either side of the route stretching all the way from the city gates, and she could hear the helpless moans, the cries of fear as metal was brandished in their direction, and the cursing of soldiers as they shouted for them to keep back, stay off the road. The stench of their encampment was awful, intense.
She was the Empress, or would very shortly be, so surely she must do something to stop this ill-treatment of her own people? Or perhaps this was the first lesson she would learn: her own powerlessness to achieve everything she might wish.
Brynd was riding to one side, and turned to nod at her briefly before again scanning the troubled scene. She saw the gaunt, muddied faces of her people staring at her carriage between the lines of Dragoons and horses. Shouts of commands. Then the gates of the city were opening, whereupon more soldiers streamed forward in a clatter of armor and weaponry. Garudas circled above her, ever watchful, as screams from the refugees reached a crescendo.
Her eyes widened at the alarming spectacle. All this fuss just for her—she refused to believe it. The carriage rocked its way onto the cobbled streets of the city, and within a few moments she was inside Villjamur, safe, the noise of the refugees muffled as the doors closed behind.
Then they stopped. Was this where she must get out? Again that uncertainty.
The commander leaned into the carriage. “We’ll now progress through the main streets of the city. People may stare in at you. They don’t really know you from sight. You may remind some of the older citizens of your mother, perhaps …” He stopped at that sensitive point, and changed tack. “Many of them probably don’t know the current state of rulership despite the announcements that should have been made.”
“Very kind of you to warn me, commander. But I’m sure I’m capable of looking after myself.”
Brynd retreated, ordered the entourage to ride on.
Rika stared up at the city, her city, its landscape furnished with a sense of possession, so nothing would be the same as before.
Everything was as she remembered, and bittersweet memories lapped over her. The dreamlike spires that disappeared up into damp mist. The hanging baskets everywhere encaging the beautiful flowers of the tundra. The soaring bridges, the gray-red stone, the ever-busy people. And Balmacara in the center. Her own history came back in flashes: a childhood spent staring out of windows at these same sights, not being permitted to have much contact outside Balmacara. Days of boredom. The trauma of her father beating her mother, of beating Rika herself. And little Eir brightening random moments with her naïveté, a child’s voice echoing down the corridors. It was amazing what mere clusters of assembled rock could do to the mind.
Forget about all that. It’s the past. Think of the future.
Her sister already stood waiting for her inside, her face erupting in emotions. After the initial formality, Eir and Rika embraced for what, to Brynd, seemed like a season. The fond memories were returning, the gradual remembrance of their idiosyncrasies, all reflected in the softness of their glances and the way they would touch each other’s arms.
After a long interlude of whispering, they seemed to remember that other people were gathered around them, listening, waiting.
The young page showed them into a formal chamber where several members of the Council were seated, all immediately rising to their feet.
Brynd and the rest of his Night Guard followed silently.
There he was, Chancellor Urtica, walking over to the new Empress. He took her hand, pressed it to his lips, after he briefly went down on