The War of Queens

Chapter 6

Angelique

 Angelique left for Ithaya the day after the funeral. The town she had grown up in seemed too small and too familiar and she felt trapped. Ignoring the strange glances from the villagers, she packed her things and walked out of the small circle of houses by the time the sun rose. Without having to wait for her sister and Ishmael, she could reach Ithaya quicker, find Sir Jamie and set a plan before the time her sister would arrive.

 They had agreed to meet in the coastal city two weeks later. Elizabeth was staying, bound by the chains of propriety, and Angelique wanted to have everything ready for her by the time she arrived. With their father dead and gone, there was not much they could do. Of course, chances were that Elizabeth had charmed Junus and would be able to stay in his shelter – he had a habit of caring for orphans – and Angelique had learned how to care for herself, yet… staying felt wrong.

 Perhaps it was not her father’s death at all, but rather the messenger that had made her feel like this. The lands of Hi’taab had never felt like home to her. In the faintest of memories, she could still remember dark stones and green forests, grass and a blue sky from which rain poured most days. She could still remember a biting cold, rather than the warm, suffocating air of these new lands.

 The city welcomed her with its many smells and voices and she relished in the many faces, the energy and livelihood. Street musicians played in the corners and travelling pranksters breathed fire and jumped around, juggling with fruits and bread, and were rewarded with a few coins and the gasps of awe-struck children.

 However, if you knew the city, you would have learned to recognize the underlying tension. Her eyes travelled and found, hiding behind the musicians, an assassin of the Tarantula web. He was trained in poison and silence and his empty eyes travelled the marketplace like a ghost, cold and unseen.

 And there, by the wagon of a baker, was a shadow warrior. He was clad in normal clothes but when he walked, the leg of his trousers lifted to show a tattoo of a black sun on his right ankle.

 And by the corner of a larger store stood a man as aware as she of the many men. His yellow shade of skin and missing eyes betrayed him to be from further east, where Darrana, the Black Tiger, ruled. His nearly black eyes met with hers and she quickly averted her gaze. After a few seconds, she drew the scarf that protected her face and hair from the sun closer around her and passed into an alley, making her escape.

 Hi’taab was ruled by men like Darrana. Ithaya and its surrounding lands were ruled by Shid-al, while Duros were ruled by Gaythla’as, who just the year earlier conquered Asheen from Jamomed. For normal people, these fights were too complex and too ever-present to follow.

 She found Sir Jamie after looking around for an hour or so. He sat in the shadow of the building where he had been able to rent rooms, his pale skin standing out like a sore thumb. His thin, receding blonde hair was dried out and his pale blue eyes were red along the edges from the sand that the wind blew around.

 “Lady Angelique,” he called as he stumbled to his feet.

 She halted and looked him over, assessing his symptoms. “You should drink. The sun is too sharp for you.”

 He seemed taken aback. “What?”

 “The sun.” She looked upwards pointedly before returning her gaze to him. “If you do not drink some more water soon, you will feel dizzy and start to vomit. It would not be the first time someone died from the heat.”

 He frowned. “Perhaps we should go inside?”

 With a nod, she followed him inside. It was a rather fine establishment with clean tables and floor and not much noise. They ordered wine and sat down by an archway that led to the rectangular pool that most houses had placed in the middle. Whenever a rare bit of rain fell, the roof was designed to lead the water into that pool, which was situated so that no one from the outside could reach it and sully it.