The Wonder (Queen of Hearts Saga #2)(55)



Bah-kan leapt up with a roar and Dinah barely had enough time to fling herself between the two men.

“STOP! As your queen, I order you to STEP BACK!” The men pressed on both sides of her.

“SIT DOWN! Obey your queen!” cried Sir Gorrann. The men, their chests heaving against Dinah, took a single step back, more out of self-preservation than respect, Dinah suspected.

Bah-kan eyed Dinah as he spoke in clipped Yurkei. “You are not my queen; the Yurkei have never submitted to Wonderland domination. But I am sworn to protect you, as Mundoo commanded. Do not forget, little girl, that is why I obey you now.”

Dinah nodded and waited until Starey and Bah-Kan sat back down, her patience gone. “Sir Starey, what can we do for you? What demands have you brought on behalf of the Spades? What price will I pay to have them fight for me?”

Starey handed Wardley a rolled piece of paper, which he then gave to Dinah. “It’s all written there for you, made up of the voices of a thousand Spade warriors, voices that have been oppressed and enslaved for centuries. We have five demands. First, a Spade shall be allowed to marry and bear children. Second, a Spade can choose to live with his family in a private household within the kingdom, as do all of the other Cards.” He paused. Dinah nodded. These seemed reasonable. “Third, we would ask that you move our barracks away from the Black Towers, to the south side of the kingdom, as the first major project once you are crowned Queen. Fourth, we ask that the Queen would meet with a small group of established Spades before declaring war or ordering raids on any group of people. We would like to have a say in the matter before we are asked to sharpen our axes for battle. Our final demand is that the Spades will take new rank just under the Heart Cards, and be paid accordingly. This will allow us to afford more for training and feeding, so that we may build a strong army, inside and out.”

Dinah faced him across the wooden structure. “If this war works, Sir Starey, there will be no need for raids, or battles. We seek peace with the Yurkei.”

“A strong queen needs a strong army.”

“He is right, Your Grace,” spoke Cheshire. “Though you will not war any longer with the Yurkei, you will still need an army to police the city and to protect you. Especially once you have established your rule, there will be parties who seek to harm you.” Like the Diamonds and the Clubs, thought Dinah, who will have just been usurped by the Spades. I will elevate one group to make two others angry.

Perhaps this was the game that Wardley had spoken of. War was, at its most basic, the great reassigning of positions—a king who could become a prisoner, a princess who could become a casualty of war. It occurred to Dinah that her war might not be over once the King was dead. There would be many sacrifices made in order to win, and many of them would make the pillars of Wonderland society very unhappy. Dinah tucked the scroll into her tunic.

“I will think on your demands, Sir Starey. For now I would encourage you to take a much-needed rest and sober up. We have much planning to do. We will meet back here this evening, just after dinner is served.”

The war council rose to its feet and bowed before Dinah exited the tent. Cheshire trailed behind her. Dinah handed the scroll to him. “Please look over these and make sure there are no tricky loopholes. Return it to me so that I may look over it again by tonight.”

Cheshire rested his hand on her shoulder. “You did well in there, my Queen. I am so proud of you, as both your humble servant and your father.”

Dinah felt unsure of how to respond and so she strode away from him, toward Morte, who stood waiting for her beside her long white tent, which someone had haphazardly painted with a red, slashed heart. “I’m going for a short ride to clear my head. Please have it read when I return.”

Cheshire bowed, a feline smile stretching across his thin face. “Nothing would please me more, Your Majesty.”

“Sir Gorrann!”

“Yes?”

“Please join me for a short ride.”

Cheshire’s smile disappeared, but he turned away before Dinah could see it. Sir Gorrann gave her a half salute with his hand. “With pleasure. I need to fetch Cyndy.”

Morte was pawing the ground impatiently and beginning to nip at the tent. His hooves brought ripples up from the grassy surface, where the water underneath sloshed and bubbled. “I’ll meet you at the blighted ponds. He cannot wait.”

Dinah bowed her head with reverence once she reached Morte, and he lifted his leg for her to vault onto his back. Morte ran with abandon for the blighted ponds. Dinah relished the damp wind on her face as they flew across the wet valley. The ponds were not far, which was convenient, for it was where the army drew their water from seemingly endless pools of refreshment. Alongside the clear, delicious pools of perfectly cool water, there were other ponds, the blighted ponds. She had seen them almost every day for the past few weeks, and even now stared at them with amazement. The murky pinkish waters were topped with a foamy froth that looked delicious, but smelled and tasted atrocious. Every now and then a creamy, shimmering bubble would rise up from the fathoms below. Bordering on the edge of the moss, the bubble would creep a few feet over the ground and then begin to float slowly toward the nearest living creature. They were easy to avoid if one watched out for them, for they drifted at a snail’s pace; but if they touched the skin, as one unfortunate Yurkei warrior had found out, they burst open, bathing the unfortunate victim in a warm splash of effervescent pink. Seconds later, skin, blood, and veins would begin to turn white and harden. The warrior was left petrified within minutes, a creamy pink bubble formed over his lips. The Yurkei had been afraid to touch him to give him a proper burial, and so they had left his body behind in the blighted ponds. The next day when they had returned to gather water, the warrior’s body was gone, and in its place was a new rosy pocket of water. It had consumed him, and he had become whatever had eaten him from the inside.

Colleen Oakes's Books