Leaves of Revolution (12 page)

William sat down next to her, resting his hand on her back, the journal still open on his lap.

Quinn took a deep breath before clearing her throat. “I’m not sure where you got the impression that I’m a reasonable person, Tobias. I may not have the first clue what I’m doing here, but that is my throne and my castle. Philotheum is
my
kingdom – not Tolliver’s, and certainly not Ivan’s. I’d like to believe it won’t come to a fight – especially because I have no idea how to win one with three guards, one of whom who is not even trained properly – but I’m not going anywhere.”

In Linnea’s arms, Samuel began fussing. Tobias glanced at them as Linnea carried him to the other side of the bed and Thomas brought her a clean diaper. “I don’t like the circumstances that caused it, Your Majesty, but I am honored to have my niece under my roof through this storm.”

WHEN HE’D FINALLY CRAWLED into bed the night before, Zander had been so exhausted that he’d been afraid he might not wake again until dinnertime. But early the next morning, when James Blackwelder pulled on his boots, the quiet noise roused Zander immediately. The weeks of intense guard training were paying off; although no light entered the room when James pulled back the curtain, Zander was alert.

“Is it still snowing?” he asked, slipping his feet into his own boots and shrugging into his warmest sweater. When he’d first realized he would be stuck in this world, he’d thought he’d miss his truck the most, or maybe his cell phone, but no – living without central heat was much worse. He crossed the room to put another log on the fire.

“Yes,” James said. “And there’s already more on the ground than I’ve seen in a long time. We should go and check on the horses.”

When Zander and James reached the kitchen, Dorian was already there, removing a steaming kettle from the hook over the fire. A warm, tempting smell drifted from a covered Dutch oven on top of the stove.

“Did you do all this?” he asked Dorian. A glance out the window told him little about the time. He thought he might be seeing the first hints of sunrise, but the light was obscured by the thick layer of clouds and the heavy snow swirling in the harsh wind. The amount of snow on the ground was surprising even to Zander, who’d lived through more mountain blizzards than he cared to remember. “How long have you been up?”

Dorian shook his head. “Only a few minutes. I put the kettle over the fire and pulled that out of the oven, but it was already here, with a note from Tobias. He went back to bed.”

“Wow.” Grabbing a thick towel, he lifted the heavy cast-iron lid of the pan, careful not to burn himself. Immediately, he wished he hadn’t done that – the smell of the thick concoction of eggs, potatoes, cheese, and some kind of meat was overwhelming; now he was too hungry to wait.

“Go ahead and dish us up some,” Dorian said. “We’re going to need the warmth before we try to walk through that snow.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for everyone?” If there was anything he’d learned living in the castle with Quinn and William, it was that even the smallest things – like eating and heating water for bathing – were undertaken with consideration for the king and queen. Not because either of them actually cared – Zander knew that fact bothered Quinn on more than one level – but because that deference mattered to everyone else.

“There’s a second pan; Tobias’ note said to put it in when we pulled this one out. Perhaps Their Majesties will get the rest they need this morning. We certainly won’t be going anywhere today.”

“Tobias is very accommodating,” Zander said.

“Indeed.”

“Is it improper for me to say that this isn’t what I would have expected from Lady Sophia’s brother?”

“Very improper,” James said, but his tone was amused. “Of course, you’re not wrong.”

“Tobias is a good man.” Dorian handed each of them a plate from the shelf. “I’ve been lucky enough to meet him several times, but I never knew where he lived – and I didn’t know he was related to Lady Sophia. I didn’t know anything about his background. It’s an honor to be invited into his home.”

“When did you meet him?” Zander asked.

“The first time was when I decided to join the Friends of Philip. After a few others decided I could be trusted, they brought me to meet Tobias. He inked my tattoo. I’ve seen him a few times since then – the ones I remember are when James joined, and a few days after Queen Quinn released us from prison.”

“So if you’d met him before – wouldn’t you have known who he was when he did things like coming to Prince Samuel’s Naming Ceremony?”

Dorian cleared his throat. “Zander, I’ve answered your questions thus far because Queen Quinn trusts you, and you already know whatever Tobias has told you. I will leave it to him to choose to share anything else.”

The rebuff was kind, but Zander felt it to his core, knew that it was absolute. Whatever secrets Dorian knew about Tobias would remain hidden. Before that moment, he had known that belonging to the Friends of Philip was important to those who were part of it, but he hadn’t realized how deep it ran, how many secrets were buried beneath purpose and loyalty.

Risking Dorian shutting him down completely, he asked a different question as they sat down to eat. “How did you decide to join the Friends of Philip? Was your father a member as well?”

“No.” Dorian took a bite of the savory casserole. For a moment, Zander was afraid the single word would end the conversation, but a moment later, he continued. “My father is still alive; he has a bakery in a small town close to the Dovelnian border. He didn’t much approve of my deciding to become a guard when I was a young man, and he certainly has no idea that I was part of the resistance. The last time I spoke to him, he was disappointed that I’d ruined my son by raising him to be a soldier, too.”

“I thought being a castle guard was kind of an honor.”

“It is, to many people. James and I have only been castle guards since Queen Quinn’s coronation. Before that, we worked on patrols in the region of Brandleby, but I still don’t think my father is impressed. He would have preferred I stay far from politics and in the kitchen with him.”

“He’s not happy the crown was restored to Quinn?”

“Not especially. He wouldn’t care one way or the other, I don’t think, if it didn’t have any effect on him personally. His bakery did well under Hector’s reign, and there was no fighting anywhere near Brandleby until Queen Quinn came to power and arrested Harbin Rhinewald and several others who helped him – including some men who were friends of my father’s. That area is struggling economically now because so many of the queen’s supporters fled, and Hector’s supporters were stripped of the power they had. I think that if my father knew of my involvement in
that
situation, he would have turned me in himself.”

“Wow. What about your mother?”

“My mother died when I was very young, giving birth to my sister – who didn’t survive, either.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He wasn’t sure he liked thinking about
that
difference between this world and his, either.

“It was a long time ago. My father remarried when I was fifteen – and I applied for guard training at sixteen. He has two sons with my stepmother, and both of them now work in his bakery. He has someone to leave it to. In a way, everyone got what they wanted in the end.”

Zander thought about that as he took a bite of the breakfast concoction – it tasted even better than it smelled. This conversation with Dorian was fascinating to him. As different from Earth as he sometimes felt this world was, the similarities were so much more powerful.

“What made you join the Friends of Philip?” It seemed like a risky thing to do without a strong reason.

“My father might not have had strong political opinions, Zander, but I did. I joined the guard to protect and serve King Jonathan – not an imposter from Dovelnia. After Jonathan died, I looked forward to the day Prince Samuel would take the crown. During that time, I heard whispers and rumors about the resistance, but I didn’t really understand why it was necessary. But when Samuel died, I knew something was wrong. I still didn’t join the Friends of Philip for a number of cycles, but once it became clear that Hector intended to circumvent tradition and allow Tolliver to make a bid for the throne, I sought out the resistance for myself.”

“Even though you knew you might be risking your life?”

“I did risk my life, Zander. Both James and I were nearly executed for our participation in the Friends of Philip – but I don’t regret it.”

“Nor do I,” James said from across the counter. “I would do the same thing again without question, even if I knew the outcome would be different.”

“Everyone in this house right now has made
that
commitment, I think.” The new voice startled Zander; he hadn’t seen the other guards come into the kitchen.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, Kian,” Marcus said. “But Her Majesty acknowledges your sacrifices in being here and is honored by them. I’m sure she’ll tell you that herself as well.”

“Actually, I think we’d all feel a little less guilty if you could ask her to
stop
expressing her gratitude every time she speaks to us,” Ethan said, grinning as he piled food onto three plates.

After breakfast, the five guards gathered in the small room behind the kitchen next to the door leading outside. Zander fastened his heavy cloak as tight as he could, and pulled the hood over his head before wrapping his green scarf around to conceal as much of his face as possible.

As he dressed, he noticed a large coil of rope hanging from a long peg beside the door.

“We’ll need that,” Dorian said, following his gaze.

When Dorian opened the door, a blast of cold air assaulted them, making Zander wish again for central heating and covered transportation. Snow swirled so thick in the wind that it was difficult to see the dark outline of the barn, even though it couldn’t have been more than thirty yards away.

As soon as they stepped out in it, Dorian tied one end of the rope to a wooden post staked next to the door, and spread out the coil, offering a hold to each of the other guards. At first, Zander was confused, but when a sudden strong gust of wind blew enough icy crystals into the air to completely obscure the barn, he understood. The rope would keep them from wandering out into the blizzard and getting lost. Hopefully.

Well, at least they would be safe from soldiers today.

By the time they reached the barn, he was sort of wishing for the soldiers. Dorian tied the other end of the rope to a stake just outside the barn door, and they hurried inside, trying to keep the snow out.

The barn offered respite from the furious, icy wind, but not from the cold. He could see his breath in the air as he walked over to the adjoining stalls which held the two most important horses in the barn; Quinn’s mare, Dusk, and William’s tawny mare named Skittles.

A thin layer of ice covered the water in their troughs.

“Break that up,” James said. “We can pour a little warm water over the top before we leave.” He nodded toward the far corner of the massive barn where Dorian was kneeling in front of a woodstove. “We’ll have to come out a little more often to check on them while it’s storming like this.”

Since coming to this world, Zander had learned more about horses than he ever would have wished to at home, but he still felt like a novice around the other guards. While learning to care for his mount was an important part of his training, it hadn’t been a priority back at the castle where there were stable hands to do most of the physical work in the stalls.

For a few minutes he tried to help with Dusk and Skittles, but he was slow and inefficient next to James, Dorian, Ethan, and Kian. Eventually, he decided he’d better use the time to do the work with his own horse, or everyone would be waiting on him to finish.

“Hello Ember,” he said quietly as he pulled up the latch of the heavy stall gate. The tall bay stallion bent his head toward Zander’s shoulder in greeting. He patted Ember’s silky neck, and the horse nudged his cheek.

He had to admit that his truck had never been this happy to see him.

Of course, he thought, as his eyes fell on a steaming pile at the back of the stall, his truck had never done
that
either.

“Come on, boy,” he said, leading Ember out of the stall and into the wide main aisle of the barn with the other horses. The horse followed him without hesitation.

Zander still wasn’t sure whether Stephen’s gift of this horse to him was intended as a joking commentary on his lack of experience, or just an extraordinary kindness – surely this patient, unassuming animal would have been a more fitting mount for one of the children – Alice, maybe.

Not that he was complaining. Ember was an amazing animal. Gentle – and enormous – as he was, he could keep pace on even the longest, most strenuous ride. Although Zander wasn’t skilled enough to experience it for himself, he knew Ember was an incredible jumper, too. Even Linnea had asked to take a few turns on the course with him, despite the fact that her horse, Snow, was renowned for her perfect jumps.

He stroked Ember’s long neck a few times before tying his lead rope to a post and heading over to the hooks along the wall to retrieve a pitchfork.

Just as he reached the door to Ember’s stall again, something hit the side of his head. For a second, he was too startled to understand what had happened, but when he reached to rub the spot on his temple, a warm, gooey sensation made him pull his hand back immediately. “Ugh.”

Across the aisle, Kian started laughing and pointing up toward the ceiling.

Zander took a step back before he looked up – a wise move, because another thick white glop dropped in the spot where he’d been standing.

“What in the…”

At least a dozen large birds were perched in the rafters of the barn. There could have been many more, but the hayloft obscured his view of half the building.

He recognized the offender immediately – Raeyan,
Quinn’s light gray seeker was directly over his head. The white patches on the bird’s chest were unmistakable.