Chapter 7

At the Council meeting that afternoon I sat and listened, not saying much. I'd been sick that afternoon and I felt lightheaded. It was a precarious situation as it was against the rules for the head of the council to be a relative of the monarch and Caitlin, being my husband's grandmother, was technically a relative. But we were in too much a state of upheaval for an election, so Caitlin had remained the head. She had to walk a fine line however, as the head of the council was meant as a check to ensure that the monarch kept the best interest of the kingdom at the forefront, just as the monarch was a check to the council head. The Fay council operated the same way and several members of the fay council had been added to the Human council. The problem was that Caitlin had her sympathies and since the union of the kingdom her sympathies, and her past, were out in the open. Not even her husband had known that Bronwen, Rowan's mother, was not his offspring. Bronwen looked just like Caitlin. You can see where this was going. Caitlin had to do a bit of a juggling act. She couldn't be seen as too much in favour of my way of doing things. If she thought anything I wanted done too radical for the old school council members, she would oppose me as a matter of form and sometimes it didn't matter how hard I talked. The matter would be handed to the council and a vote would be held, then it was out of my hands. I often wished that Gwydion hadn't left to study in the Angel’s library up in the mountain city, as he had been perfectly adept at managing the old guard members of the Human court and making them think that even the most radical change was in line with their way of doing things, but he, along with all the other druids, had departed to go learn from the Angels. I understood the rationale; there may be information in the library that the Angels wouldn't realize was important as they had been so long removed from society, but I still wished the crafty, wily, old druid was with me to back me up.

But there was only one issue I had to put forward at the meeting that afternoon, and that was the draft. I wanted an end to it, but I had Rowan there to argue it for me that day. I had made it clear that after Rowan had delivered a full report on the war, we would deal with that one issue and then adjourn. Rowan had explained that between the weather, and the significant blow we had dealt my uncle's army, there was little we could do but wait out the storm and send out scouts, try to keep our ears to the ground.

“In the last four days I've lost nineteen men to hypothermia and another five have simply been lost to the storms. I can only assume that they have frozen to death after losing their way in the snow. From what I understand the people of the city are burning their furniture to keep warm. Right now the drafted men need to be with their families to help in the cold. A mother in a house alone with three small ones is going to have little opportunity to find more fuel to keep warm. There is no point in keeping men out in the freezing forests searching for an enemy that we can't find, to protect children who are freezing to death in their own homes. At this point you also need to realize that the drafted men simply don't have the skill to cope with the kind of attacks that we are dealing with, and the trained soldiers spend as much time protecting them as they do fighting. The drafted men may or may not have tipped the balance in that first battle. It's in the past now so there is little point in debating it, but at this point the enemy is like a cornered puma. Dangerous. We are beating them back but my men need to be able to concentrate on fighting not protecting.”

“Do you think that you have the manpower to do this without the drafted men?” Lars, very human, very status quo, very plodding, asked. He was one of the ones who had pushed for the draft in the first place. According to Rowan Lars had never lifted a sword in his life yet fancied himself a tactician. His questions didn't even make any sense. He drove me crazy but I kept my mouth shut.

“Of the five thousand and thirty two men I took into battle in October, I've lost approximately one thousand and thirty. Six-hundred of those men were drafted men. I took eight hundred of them with us and left four hundred of the least battle ready behind. You think about those numbers and you tell me whether it's to any one's benefit that our master potters and weavers and glass blowers are the ones dying out there?” Rowan said, bristling aggressively. He'd opposed the draft from the start saying that it wasn't a guarantee that it would help and that it may even hinder. I'd backed him but Caitlin had been caught between a rock and a hard place on that one and it had gone to the council. The vote had just barely passed for an involuntary draft with the fay council members taking my side. There had been a lot of hostility over the issue.

I looked at Lars and raised my eyebrows in a silent serious, “I told you so.” I had trusted Rowan's judgment on that one. There was a reason he had been made Captain. He knew.

“What are Seamus' numbers now?” Caitlin asked.

“We estimate that he's got about one thousand eight hundred followers left. The Brownridge family withdrew their support and took about three hundred men back to their estate with them. All he has left now are elves, bandits, hill tribes and other exiles. He's lost all of the legitimate political support that he had three months ago.”

Caitlin nodded, “End the draft. Is there anything else that we need to discuss?”

“I have an idea that I would like to entertain,” I piped up for the first time. I hadn't even realized that I was going to say it, but the faces around me were all so grey and tired. “The winter solstice is in three days. Are there any logistical difficulties involved in planning a feast?” I looked at Finn and smiled and there must have been something in my look that tipped him off because he smiled craftily back at me.

“A feast of . . . very great proportions?” he questioned.

“Yes,” I smiled.

I had gone over the larders with Wilhelm three weeks ago and I had been shocked at the excess.

“Does the castle really go through all of this food in a year? There are only eighty permanent residents?” I'd asked.

“No lady. We usually give the excess to the poor in the spring. That's how Freya always had it done and somehow in the nine years since her death it has never been changed.”

“You give the leftovers to the poor in the spring! When the chickens have started to lay again and the dandelion greens are sweet and tender? I'm sure the flour is turning stale by then and the potatoes have gone soft. How much spoilage is there?” I was irate.

He gave me his answer and I blew a gasket. I knew that we had the resources to do more.

I looked across the council hall at Finn, “I want you to talk with Wilhelm and Ona,” she was the head of the kitchen staff. “I'm sure you have a better idea than me what can be done, but I'm told that the great hall can accommodate some fifteen hundred people. I want to invite anyone from the city whose spirits would be uplifted by a feast and I want a feast brought to any families who need food or who are too downtrodden to have the spirit for festivities. Also, look over the furniture again. It still feels crowded in here to me.” I looked at Reina. She lived in the city full time and she and her family were cloth merchants who had a good trade relationship with the Fay. She knew the city well and had helped make sure that the furniture had been fairly distributed where it was needed most. “Would you mind helping them?” I asked her.

“It would be my pleasure,” Reina answered. I knew she meant it. She was one of the council members that I trusted. She was there out of a desire to make the world a better place with no other motives.

I looked around at the council in general, “Does anyone object?”

“No,” Caitlin said firmly before anyone could speak.

There were a few disgruntled faces but no one became vocal so I figured that I had won.

*

The castle hummed for two days and I don't think that the kitchen staff slept. I didn't feel bad though because everyone was smiling for the first time in the two months since I had become Queen. Even Bridget, who usually avoided me, was smiling and curtsying to me in the halls as if I were a normal person. I wasn't expected to help set up tables or anything like that, it irked me in a sense, but I was busy as Wilhelm and Finn came at me with constant questions on what my preferences were, where I wanted this or that, what to decorate with, should someone organize games for the children. I tried to stay where they could find me but Rowan was with me and we were bent and determined to spend every possible moment together, so we wandered the halls together hand in hand and Raphael had some time off. Wilhelm came at me with the first real hitch and that was the lighting.

“I'm afraid the hall will not be quite as bright as I'd hoped. We have extra candelabras but no one seems to know where they were stored and . . .”

“Where are the globes that my father sent?” I cut him off.

“The boxes of glass orbs?” he asked perplexed.

I'd forgotten that they were a Fay thing. They had them at Rowan's home because Lugh had given them to Rowan as a gift and Rowan knew how to light them but, at what everyone had adjusted to calling The Queen's Castle, they were unknown.

“Have the boxes taken to the hall and then find Yuka. She will be able to find someone to hang and light them. The hall will be bright enough,” I told him.

*

The younger soldiers, Fay and Human, spent the day carting hot meals together through the storm and into the city to the unsuspecting recipients, Rowan and I stood on the ramparts watching as they came back for another cart-load, their eyes full of laughter to be doing something that brought hope and joy instead of nightmares and death.

We dressed. Morgana fussed with my hair as she pinned it up in a net of pearls. I had left the circlet off, but that morning, as he was about to head out to deliver meals, Liam tracked me down with a tooled leather box in his hands.

“So,” he walked towards me purposefully. “Rumour has it that you are wearing a devastating cream silk jacquard dress tonight. I thought to myself, 'Hmm what goes with cream silk?' And then it struck me that I knew of the perfect thing, so I took the liberty of raiding the treasury for you.” He placed the box in my hands, carefully lifted the clasp and pulled the hinged lid up, revealing ruby cabochons set in a lacy interconnected network of gold huckleberry leaves. Necklace and earrings, stunning and perfect. I didn't quite gape but he could see that he had hit the nail on the head. He winked and gave me a cocky charming smile before sauntering off calling, “Save me a dance,” over his shoulder.

I clasped the necklace around my throat and put in the earrings then checked the effect in the mirror. The dress was a simple empire waisted gown that had been made for me before I left the stronghold. The empire waist was a good thing though because suddenly my little body was showing the pregnancy and over those few days since Rowan had come back from the fighting my belly had seemed to grow rapidly into a gentle curve that was obvious even when I was dressed. The gown was lovely though. Classic, with cap sleeves and a graceful scoop neck that left ample skin showing and perfectly suited the vivid ruby jewellery. If you looked carefully you could see that the pattern in the jacquard was that of stylized doves flying in circling groups of three, and the rubies were almost the same red as my mouth. Rowan came up behind me and put his arms around me smiling. He smoothed the silk down over my belly with his hands and told me, “You know, I could just look at you all night. I'm not sure that I want to go down there and share you with other people.” He grinned.

“Don't wrinkle her dress.” Morgana tried to pinch Rowan and I laughed as he moved quickly away still grinning, too fast for her. “Lief is sitting with Nimue tonight but do you mind stopping quickly and saying goodnight to her before we go down? She would like, very much, to see your dress,” Morgana told me. I could tell, as my Grandmother stood next to me looking exceptionally lovely herself in burgundy silk, that she too was enjoying the prospect of an elegant evening.

“Of course I don't mind,” I said gently. “Finn doesn't want Rowan and I to arrive until all of the guests are seated anyway. He wants us to make a 'grand entrance'.” I rolled my eyes.

I hadn't actually seen Lief since the army had returned. He was a very private person in some ways and, stubborn as he was, he would work through his issues in his own way, on his own. But I was touched that he would sit with my sister so that Morgana could go to the feast and get away from Nimue for a time, as none of what had happened had been easy for my grandmother either. Lief was leaving in the morning on a scouting mission and I knew that he wouldn't want to go to a feast. Not then. As we approached Nimue's room Rowan told me, “You go in, I'll wait here.” And he leaned against the wall and crossed his ankles casually.

I knew that Leif found Rowan's presence difficult outside of their professional relationship. Lief could take orders from Rowan, but not comfort. So I pushed the door open and went in alone. Nimue had been subdued and distracted since the other morning but not self-destructive or manic. She'd been sleeping a lot, but when I entered she was up and sitting at the small table with Lief drinking tea and eating. They appeared to have been having a conversation but cut it short when I walked in. Nimue stood and gave a muted smile. “Oh, you look lovely,” she said softly and kissed my cheek then returned to her chair.

I smiled back at her. It was still disturbing to see her like that but less so than the vacant/manic period had been. “I see they brought you some of the food. Is it any good?” I asked.

“Yes it's nice,” she answered mildly. “I'm not sure what we'll do with it all? Look how much they sent up.”

The quantities were rather large, but I'd seen Leif eat.

Just as the thought crossed my mind Leif said to Nimue in his deep gruff voice, “Don't worry about it. This isn't a lot of food. Trust me.”

I looked at Leif then. He looked back at me but his eyes flicked on and off of mine reluctant to maintain contact.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey.” I got back, two octaves deeper and gravely as hell.

I reached out and gave his shoulder a shove. I barely budged him but it got me a shadow of a smile.

“I have to go. I'll see you in the morning,” I said to Nimue and kissed the top of her head, nodded to Leif and then joined Rowan in the corridor.

The massive carved doors to the great hall were closed and my grandmother was waiting, holding the long detachable train to my dress. I let her tie it on and arrange it behind me. I felt vaguely ridiculous in those situations, with a full staff standing by so that Rowan and I could walk through a door. All for the spectacle of it. I had to put myself out of my own head for a moment and appreciate how a little girl would see it though. When I was eight years old I would have given anything to see a pretty fairy queen wander gracefully past, and so I nodded to the two squires who had been placed on door duty and the great entrance cracked wide, exposing us to the gathered people waiting eagerly for the feast to begin and marvelling at the fairy lights and the garlands of ivy, mistletoe, holly, and, up on the dais where traditionally the Queen and her Consort would have sat, the tall decorated tree.

I know what you're thinking. A Christmas Tree? And yes, I suppose it was, but it seemed fitting to me. It was the only part of the whole holiday that I liked in that other world, and Wilhelm had done an amazing job of decorating it. It was dazzling. I looked up at Rowan and smiled. He smiled back at me and offered me his arm and we walked in together, down to the table at the end of the hall that was nearest the tree, amid clapping, laughter, cheers and happy voices.

I had made sure that the seating was mixed so that rich families and poor, Fairies and Humans were forced to sit together and enjoy themselves as the meal was served, and they did. It was an evening to remember. It was magical. It was the best of two worlds coming together. There was music and dancing and as the night drew on the flickers of coloured lights danced along my arms to my fingertips and the fairy lights suspended from the ceiling continued to glow. I danced with Rowan and Liam, Raphael and Thaylum too—who I could tell missed his wife—and I did hear a little girl at one point in the evening say, “Look Mum. She's right there. She's sooo pretty.” All of the women there were lovely in their best dresses. It was something that I had overlooked, but self absorbed Bridget, of all people, had seen to it that even the poorest girl had something beautiful to wear that evening, and keep if she wanted.

I spoke with people who I wouldn't otherwise have had a chance to meet. A sweet little old lady who had never imagined seeing the inside of the castle. A young soldier who had recently lost his leg to an explosion. I saw him wistfully watching the dancing but then his wife sat beside him and kissed his cheek. He motioned to the whirling couples but she shook her head smiled and clasped his arm tightly. I saw him smile at her with tears in his eyes. I could see that the people of Nova Britannia were real, not just a faceless mass of taxpayers. And they could see that I was real too. Liam said to me at one point, “Nothing like this has been done since before our grandmother's time. There have been balls with lords and ladies and powerful families but this is different. We have to make sure that this happens again next year. Amazing things are happening here tonight.” He was excited. Everyone was. It was a respite from war, worry and cold. It brought back the memory of peace and happiness and with those things came hope.

“You're tired aren't you?” Rowan said to me as the revels continued and I began to droop.

“How can you tell?” I smiled.

“You're wilting.”

“Is it that obvious?”

He answered me with a question, “Shall we slip away? Retire for the night and let the revels continue without us?”

“Yes. Lets.”

And hand in hand we made our way surreptitiously around the edges of the magnificent great hall, behind the stone pillars, past the tapestries, and towards the great carved doors. Just as we made our escape we heard one of the squires who was theoretically on door duty but was now lounging against a pillar watching the festivities announce to his partner, “You know, when I find a wife, I don't care if she's beautiful. If she looks at me the way the Queen looks at the Captain, I'll be happy for the rest of my life.”

As we hurried towards the long sweeping staircase under the dancing fairy-lights Rowan looked at me, “How's that for romance?”

It was romantic. It was like a fairytale.