Book 2 Chapter 09: Predictable

Joan took a slow, deep breath before opening her mouth to speak. However, no words could come out. She glanced over to Searle and Bauteut. “Any ideas?”

“None,” Bauteut said.

Searle just gave a light gurgling sound that sounded oddly similar to choking. Joan mentally screamed before giving a sigh. “Your highness, I--”

“Don’t,” Emeline said before shaking her head. “All of you, come down. Now.”

Joan gulped and wilted a little bit in the saddle. They were doomed, she could feel it. There wasn’t going to be another chance after this.

“Well?” Emeline asked, crossing her arms and looking up at them. “Get down. It wasn’t a request.”

Joan looked between Bauteut and Searle and, to her surprise, they were staring at her. She saw how it was. Now that the queen was here suddenly it was her responsibility. She’d have thought a thousand lifetimes of being in charge would have better prepared her for this, but honestly facing down the behemoth demons as the Hero had been way easier than facing the queen as Joan. Still, she had to do it. She reached out and clenched the reins before finally shaking her head. “No.”

“No?” Emeline asked before reaching up and pinching the bridge of her nose. “Joan, I’ve allowed you to get away with quite a bit. Probably more than I ever should have. But this goes beyond the measure. Do you even understand what you’re trying to do?”

“I do. Do you?” Joan asked.

“You’re trying to run off on some harebrained scheme to get fae to help us against the demons. Fae that we don’t even know exist, yet you’re trying to get the only chosen we have to come with you and risk his life over it,” Emeline said before crossing her arms and glaring at the three of them. “Can you even begin to understand the risk you’re taking?”

Joan gave a small nod. “The fae are there, I know that, my visions--”

“You don’t even have visions, do you?” Emeline asked, her eyes piercing through her and obliterating what little confidence she had begun to gather.

Joan gave a soft squeak and pulled back a little, even her horse taking a small step back. She wasn’t the Hero anymore and now the queen was looking at her the same way she once had. As if she could be a threat. As if she was the Hero who she so loathed. Memories of all their fights and arguments flew through her head. The biggest difference was now there was no king to support her, nor did her title as hero protect her.

Now she was just a young girl with no true power or authority. If the queen wanted her dead, it would be easy.

Joan cleared her throat and tried to speak. “Of course I do, how would I--”

“Joan,” Emeline said, her voice cold and vicious. “Don’t lie to me. You’ve been lying to me since the moment we met. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Joan lowered her gaze and stared at her horse’s mane. She wished Hardwin was here, if anyone could control the queen it was him. “I know this stuff, though. I do.”

“How?” Emeline asked.

“I just can’t tell you,” Joan said softly. “If I tell you then…” Joan couldn’t finish the thought no matter how hard she tried. If she told the queen, she’d die. The queen hated the Hero. After everything that had happened, that was something she knew and she couldn’t take the risk of driving that between them. “I can’t tell you. But I know these things. I know a lot of things I can’t explain to you. I can’t explain to anyone but the chosen.”

Emeline’s eyes went from her to Searle, who locked up. “I take it you know, then?” she asked.

The Chosen of the Shield slowly nodded. “I do,” Searle said, his voice barely above a whisper. “She doesn’t have visions, but she might as well. It’s close enough to that to not be a real difference.”

Emeline gave a soft sigh before glancing back to Bauteut. “And you?”

“I’m just her healer, she hasn’t told me anything. But yeah, I figured out the seer thing wasn’t real a while ago,” Bauteut said nervously. Joan glanced to the other girl, her eyes widening slightly. Wait, how had SHE figured it out? “But I don’t think that’s really important for me to do my work, is it? My job is to keep her from getting herself killed and, seer or not, she’s very good at almost dying.”

Emeline took a long, slow breath before lifting a hand up to her face and shaking her head. “Damn it, Hardwin.”

“Hardwin?” Joan asked.

“Joan, please. Just wait for him to return,” Emeline said before giving a small smile. “I promised him I would keep you safe. If you run off and die before he returns, he may never forgive me.”

Joan stared at her for a few moments before shaking her head. The queen started to walk towards her and she tried to back the horse up, but it only took a few moments before she hit the wall. She gave a soft whimper when the queen reached out and grabbed the reins. “Your highness, I can’t. We may not get an opportunity like this. Hardwin would understand. Just because I’m his daughter doesn’t--”

“Joan, I said stop lying,” Emeline said, cutting her off. “I know you’re not his daughter, either.”

Joan froze, giving a light squeak. “What? But of course I am! He said--”

“He knows you aren’t, doesn’t he?”

Joan gulped and gave a slow nod, her eyes locked with the woman’s. “He does. How do you know?”

“I’m not stupid,” Emeline said with a shake of her head. “I will admit, at first, I thought it was true. I certainly knew there was something special about you that Hardwin wasn’t telling me.” She then glanced to Searle. “Something the other chosen wasn’t, either.” Searle quickly looked away and Joan realized he wouldn’t be much help here either. It was oddly comforting to know that, no matter what, Searle would always be Searle. For good or ill. “Hardwin has never been able to lie to me, but for you he tried. The two of us have been through more than you could imagine. For him to lie to me like that, I know there’s something important going on here and so I was willing to pretend for both of your sake. But I cannot imagine he would approve of this in the slightest. Chosen or not.”

Joan gulped and shrunk even lower into the saddle, jumping a little when Emeline reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Please, your highness,” she pleaded, though she didn’t even know what she was asking for now. She had to go, but the idea of opposing the ruler any more terrified her. But if they headed back now, she’d never get another chance. This might be their only opportunity to meet with the fae without risking the demons being able to overwhelm them.

“Who are you, Joan?” Emeline asked softly, her hand wrapped tightly around her wrist. “I’ve seen you fight, no one fights like that. I’ve seen the way you look at the world, the way you throw yourself into that little book. As if you’re both here and somewhere else at the same time. The desperation and fear in everything you do.” Emeline tugged her arm and, seeing no other other choice, Joan slowly slid from the saddle and came back to the ground. Emeline gently knelt down and put her hands on either side of her face. “I’ve never seen a child who was so frightened of the world. Who fought with such desperation. I’ve only seen a handful of adults who live like that, but only after enduring horrors I can’t even describe,” she said in a gentle, soothing tone while stroking her cheek. “Why are you so frightened? Both of me and of everything else? What is your secret? What happened to you? What are you running from? To?”

Joan whimpered and closed her eyes before shaking her head. “I can’t tell you. If I do, it’ll all happen,” she whispered.

The stroking stopped and Emeline sighed before, slowly, her hands pulled away. “I never thought I’d find a child who I couldn’t calm. I never thought I’d see the day when Hardwin would trust a child over me. I certainly never thought I’d see the day where I’d consider this,” Emeline said before getting to her feet. She glanced to Searle. “Searle, you are the Chosen of the Shield. In affairs of the chosen I cannot overrule you, despite my authority. Is that what this is?”

Joan opened her eyes and looked between the two. The queen was staring so intently at him that a part of her wondered if Searle would burst into flames, but he slowly nodded none the less.

“Don’t tell me that without being certain,” Emeline said. “I want you to consider carefully, as this is your weight to bear. Any consequences that arise from it will be on your head. Do you trust Joan enough to stake everything on this?”

Joan held her breath and locked her eyes on Searle. She wanted to let out a scream. He had to trust and believe in her. If he didn’t, she didn’t know what she could do. But she couldn’t even be mad at him if he didn’t. After all of the times she had refused to believe in him, how could she fault him for not believing in her? Still, she clenched her fists and let out a silent prayer that this time he wouldn’t let her down. That this would be the lifetime where he proved that all those lives as the Hero she had been wrong, that this time she was right in trusting him.

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It felt as if the seconds were crawling by while she watched him make his choice but, finally, he gave a nod. “I do,” he finally said.

Joan felt like she was going to collapse, but she kept standing even when the queen pulled away. “Very well,” Emeline said before shaking her head. “I don’t like it, but I cannot stop you. However, Joan?”

She went rigid at attention, staring at the ruler. “Yes, your highness?”

“When Hardwin returns, we’re all going to have a nice, long chat. I want to know exactly what’s going on. As it seems you have managed to gain the trust of both of our chosen now, I can only assume that it must be important. But as you are a citizen of my kingdom, I will not be held out in the dark for much longer. Are we clear?”

Joan gave a small nod. “Yes ma’am,” she said gently, her stomach doing a light jump. Between Searle, Hardwin and Thalgren she was certain she could, while not keep the queen happy, at least keep the ruler from killing her. At least until everything was over, at which point she doubted it would matter. “So, you’re okay with us leaving?”

“Not in the slightest,” Emeline said before shaking her head and moving aside. “But I don’t have much choice in the matter. Now go before I change my mind and decide to lock all three of you in the cells until Hardwin returns. The stars know what chaos imprisoning a chosen would create.”

Joan nodded before turning and climbing back into the saddle. She quickly gripped the reins before sending the horse off, galloping out from the stables. She could hear the other two following close behind her, but she didn’t look back. She only slowed a little so Searle could take the lead, guiding them out through the castle walls.

She couldn’t believe it, they were going to do it.

------

“So when did you figure it out?” Joan asked, glancing to Bauteut.

“Figure what out?” Bauteut asked.

“That I’m not a seer? I figured if anyone would be upset about it, it’d be you,” Joan said, before frowning. Now that she thought about it, Bauteut hadn’t asked her about ‘visions’ for quite a while. How long HAD the girl known?

“I was, for a little bit. But well, a healer’s duty is to look after their chosen reckless idiot. Like it or not,” Bauteut said with a small smile. “I figure you’ll tell me everything eventually.”

Joan paused and her mouth fell open. Slowly her eyes narrowed. “You’re taking this incredibly well.”

“Some of us are just better at coping. We can’t all charge into trolls whenever we get upset about things, now can we?” Bauteut asked with an amused grin that filled Joan with more annoyance.

“Seriously, when did you find out?”

“I’ll tell you, if you’ll tell me what exactly is going on.”

Joan stared at her for a long moment, her eyes narrowed. However, she finally gave a sigh and nodded. “Fine, fine. Keep your secrets. If I’m not a seer, though, you don’t have to worry about me. You could always just go back.”

“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” Bauteut asked. “If I go back to the queen what do you think she’d do? ‘Oh, you decided to abandon the chosen and the strange little girl behind? Oh well, I guess it’s fine. Would you like dinner?’ I seriously doubt it. What would even be the point of letting you get yourself killed now? Just because I’m not a chosen or a prodigy doesn’t mean I’m useless.”Bauteut said, her voice turning curt.

Joan eyed the other girl for a few moments. There was something oddly familiar about that sent-- “Wait, are you MOCKING me?”

“A little, miss ‘let’s see how broken I can get today’,” Bauteut said, holding up her hand. “I won’t tell you when, but I figured out there was definitely something going on a while ago. A shame, though. I really did want to meet a seer. But in the end, how many people get the opportunity to follow a chosen and a reckless child into the depths of almost certain death? That’s the whole reason I wanted to become a healer to begin with.”

Joan paused and glanced at Bauteut as if she was insane. It felt so odd to not be on the receiving end of that look. “Wait, really?”

“Of course not. I had a talent for it and I wanted to hone it. Not all of us have death wishes,” Bauteut said before rolling her eyes. “Speaking of death wishes. Your sword?”

“It’s on the right,” Searle said.

“Not that one, the other one,” Bauteut said.

“What?” Searle asked.

“Wait, on my right?” Joan asked. She leaned over and, to her surprise, a sword was strapped onto the right side of the saddle. A bit low, but she could easily reach down and grab it. “You got me a weapon?” she asked, looking to Searle. “Oh my gosh you’re the BEST chosen!” she said before reaching down and drawing the blade. It was perfectly balanced, as long as her last blade. Excellent craftsmanship and the hilt felt wonderful in her hand. For the first time in so long she felt complete again. “When’d you do this?”

“I figured if we were going to run off, it would be better if you were armed. I never was the best with swords, so I wasn’t sure which to get. I talked to the weaponsmaster about it and he helped me find a proper one in the armory,” Searle said.

Joan nodded and swung the sword a few times. It felt amazing in her grip, though nowhere near as good as the one she’d been gifted by Ywain. Though, oddly, it still felt more ‘right’ to her than the other blade. She had to give the smith credit, the weapons the soldiers used may not have been the fanciest in the world, but they were at least well made. It was as fine a blade as any that could have been found in her old fighting company.

“You still haven’t answered the question,” Bauteut said once more. “You can’t dodge it forever.”

Joan sighed before lowering her head. “Fine,” she said before moving to sheath the blade, holding tightly on the reins when she did so. “It was a gift from Ywain Remesy.”

“Who?” Bauteut asked.

“The first blade of Lord Palkin,” Searle answered, almost instinctively.

Joan paused and glanced back at him for a moment, trying to suppress a smile. If anyone would recognize the name, it would have been him. “Exactly.”

“And you decided to put it in your room? What if someone had found it?” Bauteut asked.

“How would anyone find it?” Joan asked.

“If they decided to clean your room, or had you move to another room. If someone had sat on your bed and touched it? There are a thousand different ways you could have been found out. Only royal guards are allowed to bear weapons there,” Bauteut said, her frustration radiating off her voice.

“But none of that happened, so it’s fine. It’s not as if I had anywhere else to store it,” Joan said, keeping her eyes away from the other girl. As much as she hated to admit it, Bauteut was correct in this case. Keeping the sword there had been a foolish mistake. If she’d been found out who knew what would have happened? She could have given it to Searle and had him keep it safe for her, but that would have meant not having a weapon at hand if anything happened.

“How did you even get that into your room to begin with?” Bauteut asked.

“Servant tunnels,” Joan said sheepishly, keeping her eyes lowered.

“Would someone please tell me what you two are talking about?” Searle asked. “I really feel I’m missing something important here.”

“Just Joan trying to get herself killed, again,” Bauteut said, the ire obvious in her voice. “She had a weapon in her room, a sword.”

“Wait, what?” Searle asked, turning to look at her. “You had a weapon in there?”

Joan flushed and shrunk a little lower into the saddle. “I really didn’t think it’d be a big deal. I just--”

“You’re the luckiest kid I’ve ever met is what you are,” Bauteut said, cutting her off. “If they had found that, what do you think those little suspicions about you would have been like? You think they’re worried about you being a traitor now? Having a weapon like that would all but be broadcasting it.”

Joan felt the embarrassment only growing in her. “It’s really not that important, I just--”

“It is important,” Bauteut said, cutting her off again. “Can’t you realize just how much trouble you would have gotten into? After everything that has been going on, with the possibility of there being a traitor there, you could have been suspected of anything. It was reckless and--”

“I know that!” Joan finally yelled, pulling on the reins and her horse coming to a stop before she turned to face Bauteut who pulled her horse back as well. “I know that. I screwed up, okay? It was stupid, it was reckless, keeping the sword in my room, keeping any weapon in my room, wasn’t a smart decision. I should have given it to Searle or something, okay? I should have done a lot of things, but I didn’t. I kept it in my room like an idiot and I’m sorry. Is that what you wanted to hear? I screwed up, I screw up all the time, half the time I feel like my entire life has been nothing but screw up after screw up and I’m trying my hardest to not get myself and everyone killed but that means I’m going to make a lot of mistakes. Is that what you want to hear? Are you happy now?” Joan yelled, her words echoing through the night.

Bauteut stared at her for a few moments before nodding. “Yeah, pretty much. If you learned your lesson and decide not to do it again, then that’s really all I wanted.”

Joan stared at her for a moment, her mouth falling open. “That’s it? That’s all you wanted?”

“Of course,” Bauteut said before guiding her horse forward again. “If you learned your lesson and will just give the weapon to Searle next time, then that’s good enough. I don’t expect you to be perfect, Joan. I just want you to learn from your mistakes.”

Joan stared at the back of the healer, before glancing to Searle. “Why did we bring her again?”

“You promised her,” Searle said.

“Right. I was an idiot,” Joan said.

“Another mistake, maybe,” Bauteut called back. “Come on, let’s see if we can find somewhere to camp for the night. It’s not safe to ride all night and, frankly, if they send someone after us we’d have a better chance of avoiding them during the day if we’re awake than exhausted, anyway.”

Joan gave another sigh and shook her head. This was going to be a long trip, she could feel it in her bones. She could already feel a headache brewing.