Cinda Williams Chima - The Exiled Queen

For Linda and Mikewho shared a world of make-believe and kick-butt Barbies. Thanks for putting up with all the talking animals.

Lieutenant Mac Gillen of the Queens Guard of the Fells hunched his shoulders against the witch wind that howled out of the frozen wastelands to the north and west. Looping his reins around the pommel of his saddle, he let his horse, Marauder, navigate the final half mile descent to the Westgate garrison house on his own.

Gillen deserved better than this miserable post in this miserable corner of the queendom of the Fells. Patroling the border was a job for the regular armythe foreign mercenaries, called stripers, or the Highlander home guard. Not for a member of the elite Queens Guard.

Hed been away from the city only a month, but he missed the gritty neighborhood of Southbridge. In Southbridge there was plenty to distract him on his nightly roundstaverns and gambling halls and fancy girls. In the capital hed had high-up connections with deep pocketsmeaning plenty of chances to do private work on the side.

Then it had all gone wrong. Thered been a prisoner riot at Southbridge Guardhouse, and a Ragger street rat named Rebecca had jammed a burning torch into his face, leaving one eye blind, his skin red and shiny and puckered with scar tissue.

In late summer hed taken Magot and Sloat and some others to retrieve a stolen amulet over in Ragmarket. Hed done the job on the quiet under orders from Lord Bayar, High Wizard and counselor to the queen. Theyd searched that tumbledown stable top to bottom, had even dug up the stable yard, but they didnt find the jinxpiece nor Cuffs Alister, the street thief whod stolen it.

When theyd put the question to the rag-taggers who lived there, the woman and her brat had claimed theyd never heard of Cuffs Alister, and knew nothing about any amulet. In the end, Gillen had burned the place to the ground with the rag-taggers inside. A warning to thieves and liars everywhere.

Sensing Gillens inattention, Marauder seized the bit in his teeth and broke into a shambling run. Gillen wrenched back on the reins, regaining control after a bit of showy crow hopping. Gillen glared at his men, sending the grins sliding from their faces.

Thatd be all he neededto take a tumble and break his neck in a downhill race to nowhere.

Some would call Gillens posting to the West Wall a promotion. Hed been given a lieutenants badge and was put in charge of a massive, gloomy keep and a hundred other exilesall members of the regular armyplus his own squadron of bluejackets. It was a larger command than his former post at Southbridge Guardhouse.

Like hed celebrate ruling over a dung heap.

The Westgate keep guarded the West Wall and the dismal, ramshackle village of Westgate. The wall divided the mountainous Fells from the Shivering Fens. A drowned land of trackless swamps and marshes, the Fens were too thick to swim in and too thin to plow, impassable except on foot until the hard freezes after solstice.

All in all, control of Westgate keep added up to little opportunity for a man of enterprise like Mac Gillen. He recognized his new assignment for what it was: punishment for his failure to give Lord Bayar what he wanted.

He was lucky to have survived the High Wizards disappointment.

Gillen and his triple splashed through the cobbled streets of the village and dismounted in the stable yard of the keep.

When Gillen led Marauder into the stable, his duty officer, Robbie Sloat, swiped at his forehead, his pass at a salute. We got three visitors to see you from Fellsmarch, sir, Sloat said. Theyre waiting for you in the keep.

Hope kindled in Gillen. This might mean new orders from the capital, at last. And maybe an end to his undeserved exile.

Did they give a name? Gillen tossed his gloves and sopping cloak to Sloat and ran his fingers through his hair to tidy it.

They said as theyd speak only to you, sir, Sloat said. He hesitated. Theyre baby bluebloods. Not much moren boys.

The spark of hope flickered out. Probably arrogant sons of the nobility on their way to the academies at Odens Ford. Just what he didnt need.

They demanded lodging in the officers wing, Sloat went on, confirming Gillens fears.

Some in the nobility seem to think were running a hostel for blueblood brats, Gillen growled. Where are they?

Sloat shrugged his shoulders. Theyre in the officers hall, sir.

Shaking off rainwater, Gillen strode into the keep. Before hed fairly crossed the inner courtyard, he heard musica basilka and a recorder.

Gillen shouldered open the doors to the officers hall to find three boys, not much older than naming age, ranged around the fire. The keg of ale on the sideboard had been breached, and empty tankards sat before them. The boys wore the dazed, sated expressions of those whod feasted heavily. The remnants of what had been a sumptuous meal were spread over the table, including the picked-over cadaver of a large ham Gillen had been saving for himself.

In one corner stood the musicians, a pretty young girl on the recorder, and a manprobably her fatheron the basilka. Gillen recalled seeing them in the village before, playing for coppers on street corners.

As Gillen entered, the tune died away and the musicians stood, pale-faced and wide-eyed, like trapped animals before the kill. The father drew his trembling daughter in under his arm, smoothed her blond head, and spoke a few quiet words to her.

Ignoring Gillens entrance, the boys around the fire clapped lazily. Not great, but better than nothing, one of them said with a smirk. Just like the accommodations.

Im Gillen, Gillen said loudly, by now convinced there could be no profit in this meeting.

The tallest of the three came gracefully to his feet, shaking back a mane of black hair. When he fixed on Gillens scarred face, he flinched, his blueblood face twisting in disgust.

Gillen clenched his teeth. Corporal Sloat said you wanted to see me, he said.

Yes, Lieutenant Gillen. I am Micah Bayar, and these are my cousins, Arkeda and Miphis Mander. He gestured toward the other two, who were red-hairedone slender, one of stocky build. We are traveling to the academy at Odens Ford, but since we were coming this way, I was asked to carry a message to you from Fellsmarch. He cut his eyes toward the empty duty room. Perhaps we can talk in there.