Queen of Embers

V. Rescue

Mauléon stood no different than it did in Sorne's memories. Her childhood home was perfectly preserved, as if no time had passed since her departure. Its half-timbered, half-stone buildings were still standing proud, encircled by a high stone wall. The cobbled streets were dappled with shade from the many elm trees that rose between buildings. Green growth was flourishing, from the climbing ivy to the trees themselves, softening the lines of roofs and frames. It was too tame, too cultivated. Sorne missed the almost violent beauty of Ash Kordh, the land of myths and monsters. Sakana had been on the doorstep, a frontier plenty wild itself. But now they were truly in a kingdom of men, and it made Sorne homesick.

She glanced over at Ekaitz. Lady Katalin could hardly set foot into Mauléon as a fugitive, so she and Vridash would be waiting in the Wood with House Ibarra's soldiers. Sorne and Ekaitz, along with a dozen others, were dressed as merchants. They'd even come with the wares, used to conceal their weapons and armor. It was almost nightfall when they arrived, which meant they only had an hour or two before it was time to change and go to their bloody work.

Amets was not to be found in their cottage, but that came as no surprise to Sorne. If there was some magical project in Mauléon, the powers in the keep would have arrested the witch to obtain assistance or prevent interference. Either Amets was captive or long gone. Hopefully, Ekaitz's friend in Mauléon would know which.

"I am not familiar with the Keep here," Ekaitz said quietly. "Do you think we can defend the gatehouse long enough with how many we have?"

"I think it's a bit late to be asking that," Sorne said as they rounded the corner of the old mill, heading towards the weeping willows around the pond. Their branches would shield the little meeting. She was still deciding how she felt about the Genevais soldier, given his appearance at her home and the favor his mistress was asking.

There, safely hidden behind curtains of leaves, shoulders huddled with nerves, stood Irune. She had aged considerably since Sorne last saw her, dark hair threaded with gray and lines appearing faintly in her forehead and at the corners of her mouth. Her jaw dropped when she realized who had walked in with Ekaitz. "S-s..." She covered her mouth with her hands, wide eyes focused on Sorne.

Ekaitz tensed, looking around for potential spies before glancing between Sorne and Irune. "Have you two met?"

Sorne sighed, though she was smiling slightly. It was good to know that Irune had survived whatever wrath Aldana had vented on the servants after her own disappearance. "When I said I knew Mauléon, it is because I was born here. I grew up with—"

She was cut off with a shriek from Irune and then a tackle. "I thought you were dead!" the servant said, suddenly a girl again as she practically spun Sorne around. "What happened to you?"

"A lot," Sorne said, hugging Irune. While she hadn't gotten along well with most in Mauléon, the lower servants in the Keep had a bond that could be forged only by unforgiving taskmasters. She hadn't missed them when she left, but she did appreciate it now with the help of distance and maturity. "How are you?"

"Good. The boys are good too," Irune said automatically. She paused for a moment and then cleared her throat slightly. "Right, after you left. Okoro and I have two sons now." Her smile made no attempt to hide how proud of them she was.

"That's wonderful," Sorne said with a smile. "How's Okoro?"

"Good. Slowing down a little, though he'd never admit it," Irune said, almost chattering as she tried to talk fast enough to keep up with her excited thoughts. "He's still a fine farrier, but his knees aren't what they used to be."

Sorne nodded. She had never spoken much to Okoro despite her impression that he was a decent man, mostly because she hadn't been able to understand him well through his thick Eth accent. He was a big, broad-shouldered man with mahogany skin and short, bristling hair. His beard was thick and curly, dark like a raven's wings. He'd probably bought off Irune's service years ago, if her memories of his skill with metal weren't mistaken. It meant for a quiet life. Which begged the question of why Irune was standing in front of her, preparing to talk to a rebel.