Passing Fancies

By M. K. Dreysen

A time for testing. A time for betrayal.

Far to the north, where the ice grabs, and
the volcanoes rumble, a queen has carved out a tiny kingdom.
A borderland at the edge of an Empire,
mostly forgotten by those who stand at the center and grasp for power.

Mostly. There are those who remember that the queen placed her kingdom
at the edge of nowhere for a reason. Those that know that Megan built
her kingdom to constrain the power of the leading magician of the
age. The most powerful, the most insane magician of the age.

One of that mage's former cult remembers, and vows to free her master.
She will do anything, and everything, to free her master and avenge
the insult that has held him prisoner, encased in stone for a generation.

Will Megan, and the friends and family she's gathered around her, stop the
cultist before she succeeds? Assuming first that they'll find out who she is...

• Language: English
• Publisher: M. K. Dreysen
• Release date: Aug 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370422821

Book preview

Passing Fancies

Open Wounds, Book 2

By M. K. Dreysen

Copyright © 2017 M. K. Dreysen

Aimward Drift Publications. Visit aimwarddrift.blogspot.com for news, updates, and upcoming stories.

Dedication

As ever, to my family and my friends.

But most especially for my wife and daughter, with all my love.

Book II.

Chapter 1: Cold Blows the Wind

Some years later, and a great deal farther north, another pair of children played within the walls of a castle. This pair were just a bit older, the boy thirteen and the girl fourteen, at that slightly awkward age where the casual assumptions of friendship are being tested by time.

Bill was on the edge of his growth, not yet showing how he would transition from a small quick boy to the tall, stocky man. Celeste was a clumsy collection of coltish legs and skint elbows, mousy, a future beauty in hiding. They knew each other from birth, forced on each other as the only children their particular age in a small world of stone.

Their friendship survived the alternating hate and love that comes in being bound up with someone all of their waking hours. It could be a volatile combination, but the adults of the castle were very much glad that the two of them were old enough that the screaming was starting to die down, at least most of the time.

The majority of their time was spent in learning, and dealing with the increasing demands every passing year loaded them up with. Celeste in particular fought against this. It took her a while to understand why it was that, since her mother ran the place, she was stuck having to learn the trades of the castle. She supposed that it really would eventually be useful to know how the kitchens worked, for example, so that when she ruled the place, she would know how much food was necessary to keep everyone going. But surely that didn't mean that she needed to wash the pots? And cleaning the horseshit out of the stalls really went too far.

Bill was much more philosophical about the whole thing. He knew no one would ever dream of putting the chandler's boy in charge of anything, and that he was lucky to be able to tag along with the queen's daughter. Sure, this meant that he was occasionally stuck doing something completely ridiculous, like learning how to knit, but at least he wasn't apprenticed to the blacksmith. Bill didn't really think that shoveling coal into a furnace was a good way to spend the day.

He occasionally worried about his place in the castle life. But since he was a teenage boy, he spent much of his time daydreaming about the images he could construct of his older self. As the Scarlet Pimpernel of the West Coast, using his carefully won knowledge of the inner details of a castle life to win the hearts and minds of ladies from one end of the Pacific Coast to the other.

Celeste thought he was an idiot, at least on that point.

Though these day-to-day details were huge to the kids, as they are to most, they weren't truly that different from the way that other children made their way through life, at least in that time. No, life for the children in the little castle of Scofeld was work, plenty of it, and yet the adults around them knew it was also a collection of small blessings, carefully shepherded. They just hoped that their charges would grow up to appreciate it.

Because most of them, the adults, were more worried about two large things about life in the little castle. First, there was the grinding challenge of living in the northernmost ice-free port on the West Coast. 'Ice-free' sounds good if you're a mapmaker, or a naïve young captain setting out on your first trip, dreams of rich furs and cold red gold filling your mind. But if you've had more than a few such trips, or you've lived your life on the cold seas, you know that it's often just a sad joke.

In a place like Langdon, far to the South, the hills are a cupped hand holding a bit of the ocean against the fire of the inland desert. In Scofeld, those hills become mountains with a clenched fist, one that fills up with ice and snow before most of the rest of the continent even feels the first frost. A good decade for the people there is one in which the harbor freezes solid only twice. Irrevocably isolated from the inland in the winter, the prospect that you've only got a one in three chance of being able to get in and out by sea for six months a year tends to focus the mind.

This was the first large thing that everyone knew. The knowledge of it made the summers in the harbor a constant, ever-evolving carnival peopled by traders from across the globe. Scofeld was a tiny kingdom, but the beckoning temptations of the vast wealth of the interior, accessible only in the summers, insured that the wealth and power flowing through town made up for those bitter years when the gods played their joker of ice.

For the people of the town and sheltered dales of the kingdom, this was plenty enough trouble, and it kept life interesting for folk who can't stand the clinging mass of more civilized climes. For the castlefolk, though, there was a second, looming knowledge in their lives.

The castle, bustling and humming in the summer, gently steaming with warmth in the winter, lived through its people. Laughter and tears, work and pleasure and love and death, all the joy and suffering that humans endure, these were its blood. Its bones were the stonework that grew like topsy from the mountains. Soul and heart and mind were from the woman sitting in the hall, and the people loved her fiercely, thank you very much.

But the secrets of the castle, the terrors of the nightmare and the whispers in the dark, these came from the prisoner.

I don't understand why I have to go, Celeste complained. In spite of it, she helped her long-suffering maid sort through a pile of clothes. Bill gets to take the day off and go off on his own, why am I stuck doing this?

Mary ignored her while looking through the wardrobe. The maid looked back at the clothes that she'd laid out, then turned back to her recalcitrant mistress. I think that you should keep it simple. Here, this should do, she finished, and passed a plain blue woolen dress across the bed.

Celeste frowned at her, but took the dress anyway. If I'm going to be forced to do it, shouldn't I pick out what I want to wear, at least?

Not quite yet. You'd find some way to make your mother feel a fool, and I'd be the one who would have to punish you for it. Mary sorted through the other dresses she'd taken out, pulling the more extravagant ones from the pile and putting them back in the wardrobe. Besides, that one doesn't fit any more, she pointed out.

Celeste had exchanged the simple blue dress for something scarlet in velvet she'd last worn when she was ten. This old thing? she asked, as she held it up to her neck and started dancing around the room. But what if my prince has come to take me away? Whatever would he think of little Jenny Wren?

Mary picked up a shirt and threw it so that it landed on the girl's head. Can it.

Celeste pulled the sleeves down and wrapped them around her head. Even better. Now I am properly veiled, and my virtue is protected from all mine unwashed admirers. She stopped to peek between the buttons of the shirt, and was rewarded by the grin on Mary's face. Celeste pulled the shirt from her head and tossed it away.

Then she flopped onto her back on the bed. All right, I give up, I'll submit myself to mine tyrant. But I'd still like to know why Bill gets out of it.

Mostly, because your mom has some ideas about what you're going to be doing from now on.

Celeste sat up, her eyes pinched down at the thought of regular duties. What does that mean?

Mary shrugged. Whatever she has in mind, she hasn't told any of us yet. One way or the other, you're about to have more work to do. She put the last of the unused clothing away, then checked to insure that the girl had everything that she needed for her outfit. You only have about half an hour before you need to be down the hall. Finish up so you can eat before you go.

The girl sighed, and started pulling her nightclothes over her head. Fine. She resigned herself to the task. She might complain about it, at length, but she'd long ago realized that complaints were all she was allowed. Her mother had no patience for whining, so the young lady knew better than to push her luck. Mary wasn't her mother, and wouldn't necessarily run to tattle, but the queen's attitudes were reflected throughout the castle, and the maid didn't put up with it any more than her mother did.

With some backing and filling, and a bit of breakfast, Celeste was soon tramping along the halls, making her way to court. She considered it as she went. She knew her mother's hall was extremely busy from in the late spring. The queen said often that it was her duty to insure that the captains and traders who made their way to their corner of the world had every opportunity to present themselves to the court. Celeste wasn't entirely sure why they had to have such access, but she was honest enough with herself to admit that she didn't yet understand the economics of the little kingdom. Given what she did know, though, she wasn't really looking forward to spending the morning listening to trade proposal after trade proposal.

She paused at the end of the hall leading from their private apartments to the rest of the keep. She could hear activity from down the branch that led to the great hall. Usually, she would have made her way directly into the beehive of gossip and status-seeking. That way she could find out if anyone new was interesting enough to catch her attention. With the new expectations, though, she stopped to chew on her fingernails as she considered the change in situation. Her mother never mingled with the crowd before the court, she always waited until lunch before she talked to any of the attendees on a personal level.

Celeste straightened up and turned right, down the other branch of the hallway. This one ran behind the great hall, to where her mother kept her study and library, and her own privy entrance to the back of the hall.

She found her mother and the castle chamberlain chatting as they waited to make their appearance. The queen reached over and squeezed her friend's hand as a signal to halt the conversation when she saw her daughter walking toward them. Ah, my dear, thank you for coming, her mother said. The queen stood up to walk around to where she could get a good look at her daughter, straightening and tucking and generally mothering Celeste. Did you put out the extra chair, Jane? she asked over her shoulder.

Yes, though I lost a bet with Ben over it.

Betting with your clerk? the queen asked. Maybe I should have asked you to put some down for me, while you were at it.

The chamberlain smiled as she made her way to the door. She opened it, ever so slightly, and peeked through at the milling crowd. I wouldn't want Ben to know that he was wagering with the queen. It might make him too nervous to pay off when he lost. Then she turned back to the royal pair to make her own circuit of their appearance. I really don't know why you don't put some more effort into your dress, milady. You could give at least a bit more royal presence than this.

Not on your life. Anyone who makes the trouble to get here isn't interested in looking at a fashion plate. The argument was old, but good natured. Did the Nippon delegation make it up this morning?

Jane shook her head as she opened the door. Their captain sent his apologies. Not only were they on the late tide, but apparently they ran into a storm two nights ago, and the chief ambassador is still a bit sick to his stomach. I took the liberty of inviting them to dinner tomorrow night.

The queen considered this. Thank you. She giggled, then. I'd hate to have him throw up in front of everybody while he's trying to get over being seasick.

Celeste remembered something. But that's not the only reason, is it?

The two adult women turned to their junior partner. The chamberlain raised her eyebrow and asked, Whatever do you mean?

The girl thought it through before continuing. He's likely to be embarrassed because he couldn't make it to the general audience, and this way he gets to say that he had a private audience with the queen.

Good, very good. But keep it to yourself, ok? her mother said. We don't want him to feel like we're pandering to him. She grabbed Celeste's elbow, and steered her into place in front of Jane. Right, here's what you do. Just walk in and sit down in the chair next to mine. Jane's put out a set of scribe's tools, and I want you to set yourself up to take notes as we go along.

Celeste bristled. I'm here to be a secretary?

No, silly. I've got a secretary, and he actually knows shorthand. See, that's him on the other side. I want you to take notes for yourself, so that you can keep track of what these people try and get me to give them. Most of what goes on here will be merchants trying to get me to give them privileges they haven't paid for. Part of your job down the road is going to be knowing just what it is that the people you're negotiating with want, and this will help you keep it straight in your head. It's like playing chess, if you don't know the players, you'll never win.

Celeste nodded, and then wiped her face with the back of her hand. She looked down as she realized that her knees were shaking from nerves. She took a deep breath, then stepped out to make her way to the chair that Jane had set out for her. It's just a game, that's all, she repeated to herself. A game that could end up with you owing all you'll ever possess to someone you've never met, a small voice in the back of her head retorted. Celeste bit down hard to fight the urge to throw up.

She tried not to look at the crowd filling the hall. Most of them were people that she knew of, the minor nobles and local merchants who were part of the regular scenery of the castle and town. It didn't make her any more comfortable to be standing up in front of them. She concentrated instead on looking through the things that Jane had put out for her, some paper and a set of pencils, and a little writing desk designed to sit across her lap. Just think about what you need to do to write, she said to herself, and then went about the tasks of getting herself set up with inkwell and paper. Then, Jane and her mother were standing beside her, and court was beginning.

Jane stepped up in front of the throne and cleared her throat. The gentle murmur of conversation died, ahead of some jostling as the crowd arranged themselves for the best view. Thank you for settling in. Before we all begin, the queen has asked me to remind you all that lunch will be set out in the dining rooms, after we're through here, and all are invited to the board. She turned and nodded to the queen, then took up her place standing over to the queen's right, just on the other side of the official secretary.

Every head in the hall turned to watch as the queen stepped up