Her Gypsy Scouts fared only slightly better.
So now, she rode the line and tried to keep spirits up. Rudolfo’s officers were a hard lot who loved their men fiercely and exacted a loyalty not dissimilar to that they bore for their Gypsy King. And it was a different kind of love, a different kind of loyalty than what her father exacted. His love was sharp, and no one doubted that he loved his strategic purposes and the world they shaped more than the tools that he used to do that shaping. This new way of leading confounded her.
The Wandering Army had not marched beneath a queen in more years than any of her captains or commanders could tell her. It had happened, certainly, during times that the Gypsy King was away attending other business. And despite this, and despite her newness, they honored her and followed her orders as if they were Rudolfo’s.
And though she knew it was no place for her infant son, she saw also the way her husband’s men looked to their prince and knew of a certainty that they would give their lives before letting any danger near their lord’s firstborn. She’d even found trinkets left for the boy at her tent flap-anonymous tokens of welcome to the new heir.
Jin Li Tam felt a stray snowflake brush her cheek and started. The powders made her mind wander, and she looked around quickly to be sure no one had spoken. They rode the line in single file, slowly, pausing here and there to ask the men how they were and how the food was.
Soon, it would be time to turn back and tend to Jakob. The River Woman and Winters watched him now while Lynnae slept off yesterday’s powders. The girl had taken the baby two days in a row while Jin Li Tam and the young Marsh Queen attempted another parley with the others. It had gone no better-Turam’s man had shown up, but Meirov hadn’t even deigned to send a subordinate. Pylos was not interested in parley.
Around them, the forest was thin, with open spaces between trees. Most of the ground was mud and dirty clots of snow. The cold air smelled like wood smoke and pine, and apart from the noise of a waiting army, it was a quiet morning.
When Third Alarm sounded, it came from the west. Jin’s hand went to her sword, then relaxed. Ahead, she heard whistles and saw men turning north. She followed their stares and held her breath. Leaning forward in the saddle, she heard the clacking of tongues and watched the spatter of mud kicked up by magicked feet as invisible men raced toward the line. The Gypsy Scouts were in full retreat.
“Hold the line,” a commander barked.
She saw the men, saw the Gypsy Scouts spread out and turn, and then saw the surge of something pouring across the forest floor faster than a magicked stallion.
And suddenly, something broke in her and she felt her head grow hot as her jaw clenched.
Jin Li Tam drew her sword and spun her horse, her eyes scanning the northern forest. She spurred forward, lining herself up with the mass of bending light and mud that bore down upon her men. Bellowing with a rage she did not know she possessed, she rode down that wind of blood, feeling the solid thud of the horse’s steel hooves as it connected with flesh and bone. She spun the horse, whistling at it as the sword darted out to find something within that blood-magicked swell of running men.
Something heavy and fast struck the side of the horse, and Jin yelped as she tumbled from the saddle. Before the horse fell, she was out from its shadow and discarding her sword for the slender scout knives she’d taken from Rudolfo’s desk. They felt natural in her hands, and as another cold wind approached from the north, she danced into it, low and swinging for hamstrings she was trained to find, especially upon the magicked. Around her, she heard the sound of other horses and other men as her retinue chased after and joined her in the fray.
I must earn their respect with blood. But even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t why she did this. Why she risked her life-her, a new mother-as if it meant nothing.
She was angry. No, she was enraged. And she poured it all into this work before her. She felt the knife moving over skin, felt it catch and hold and pull her along behind. Gathering herself up, she threw herself forward and buried her knives into the fleeing back.
She fell upon her prey, and it bucked and twisted until it threw her off. “You should not be here, Great Mother. You might be hurt.”
Jin Li Tam lunged forward, the knife finding purchase. She brought the other in and twisted them both. “I am not your mother,” she snarled.
Laughing, he shoved her back. “You brought us the Child of Promise. You are a mother to us all.”
Around them, the line was breaking.
She moved in again, feinting with her left and jabbing with her right. She heard a surprised grunt and pressed forward, bringing both knives up and in as she drew close enough to smell the Marsher’s foul breath. She twisted the knives again and heard him howl. “Who told you that?” she asked. “This Child of Promise. he’s dying. What kind of promise is that?”
“He will not die, Great Mother. He cannot, for he brings forth the Crimson Empress from afar. She who will make all things right.”
I should stop, she told herself. I should question him. But the rage in her-anger that had hidden in her tears of late-required otherwise. And she felt the white heat building behind her eyes with every word he uttered. She drove the knives into him again and felt him buckle to his knees beneath her blades. Again, and the Marsher collapsed.
The voice gurgled now. “I am honored,” it said, “to die at your hands, Great Mother.”
Jin Li Tam gave the knives a final twist and then withdrew them from the still form. Only then did she realize that she tasted iron in her own mouth, that her breath came in ragged gouts of steam and that she shuddered from adrenaline and exertion. Stooping, she wiped her blades clean of that magicked blood as best she could upon the invisible corpse at her feet.
When she looked up, she saw that the line had re-formed and all eyes were upon her. Finally, Philemus scanned the line that had not held and then looked back to her. He nodded slightly, and she saw great approval in his eye.
When he shouted, his words were sharp and clear on the morning air. “Hail the Gypsy Queen,” he cried.
And as one voice, the Wandering Army hailed their general’s wife. She bowed deeply to them.
Then, sheathing her knives, Jin Li Tam called out for her horse and mounted up to finish riding the line.
She would general now, and in an hour or so, she would return to camp, wash herself clean of the morning’s violence, and feed her infant son.
Winters
Winters walked the muddy footpaths between tents and pondered the difference between queens and mothers.
The Gypsy camp bustled with activity as word of a bird from home spread like fire in a dry summer thicket. It had arrived while they were at dinner the night before, just as it had no doubt arrived to the other camps, under the white thread of kin-clave and calling Windwir’s former allies to council. Winters had already packed, though she was not yet certain of her place in this new development.
She’d not met Petronus during the last war, and following it he’d vanished back into obscurity. And certainly, the Marshfolk had not held kin-clave with the Order, attacking its protectorates with ruthless frequency until her father’s encounter with Rudolfo’s father in the Ninefold Forest. This was clearly a matter for the Named Land states, and no bird would seek her out for it.
But she’d seen the look of concern upon Jin Li Tam’s face and knew from Tertius’s meticulous history lessons how infrequent a Council of Kin-Clave was. Of course, until recently-until her dreams had pointed the Marshfolk toward the Ninefold Forest-her people had held kin-clave with none. And now, their only ally was the Ninefold Forest. The thought of attending proceedings she was not welcome at went against her nature, though her hostess insisted that her kin-clave with the Gypsies was sufficient. Still, her place was with her people, and it felt wrong to leave them even for this purpose. She already felt negligent being so far south at this time, though the birds and couriers she received daily assured her that matters were well in hand.