Page 37 of The Wolf Queen

“Granians do things differently,” my grandfather replied, looking up as the maid entered the room, then set a tray of tea things before us before bobbing a curtsey and leaving. “Our kings don’t rule through divine right. A watered-down version of that doctrine exists, for as the church gained in power, the priests set out their reasoning that this king and the next would not be able to ascend to the throne without the gods’ blessings, but,” he smiled slightly, “the fact is that a Granian king needs the support of the nobles. He comes to us for support when he wants to raise taxes.”

My men all made a noise at that, and my grandfather’s lips quirked before he continued.

“Even more importantly, he needs our bannermen if he is to go to war. The emperors were seen to be god kings—invincible, demi-gods—but Granian kings have never been able to muster the same resources to maintain their position. They need us and so—”

“You give your support conditionally, then?” Dane frowned at that. I could see that he was struggling to put it all together in his head.

“We do,” my grandfather said, with a slow incline of his head. “The kings of the past relegated a lot of their third and fourth sons, their daughters, to the north. The taint of the warg was always something that was talked of. That stain was washed away from the direct line of kings by strategic marriages with the southern lords, building their power base and influence as the kings built theirs, while we were left to our own devices.”

He opened a drawer and pulled something out, all of us leaning forward to look. A votive of sorts it looked, though for none of the gods I’d been raised with. Wolves were killed if they came across the border, but they were buried under cairns of heavy rocks, lest they rise again, or the bodies were burned immediately. Their skulls were definitely not picked clean and preserved, like this one, which had strange markings painted along the white bone, and a familiar crystal hanging from a twine of string. One that glowed as I got closer. My grandfather watched me and nodded.

“Some of us have attempted to study what the old queens were capable of.” He tapped the crystal and then pointed to my sword hilt. “It seems to be tied to the crystals. There’re caves full of them all over Grania, something the church in its former days used to work hard to root out, and for good reason. The current pantheon that is worshipped every Sunday is not the same one that would’ve been worshipped a thousand years ago or even five hundred.”

My grandfather’s gaze held mine.

“Each god or goddess is representative of a once-sovereign country now conquered by the Farradorian Empire. They cluster them together, weld them into a united force for good and order, bringing local gods under their control just as they do people. It’s been an effective strategy everywhere but with the Strelan goddess worship.”

His long elegant fingers caressed the skull.

“Her religion is tenacious, clinging on when all others have failed and faded away,” he said. “Her faithful, when captured, do not repent, no matter what the inquisitors of the church do to them.”

“Because she’s real,” I said, seeing the caves, then Pepin, then my mother, then… “She’s real, I’ve seen her, spoken to her.”

“Yes,” my grandfather said, with a tight smile. “I am sure you have. Because that’s what you are, Darcy. The first queens were intermediaries between the people and the divine, pleading the case of their people, and wielding the goddess’ power as she saw fit. That’s what you’ll be called to do, if you’re to be successful at all. To learn how to use the goddess’ given power and quash the threat of the Reavers.”

“And if I don’t?” I said, staring intently at him.

“Well,” he said, his tone much more gentle than his words. “We’d best pray long and hard then.”

Chapter24

My mates had more questions, and their voices rose as they all tried to verbally wrestle to be heard, but I silenced them with my words. “Show me,” I said, getting to my feet. I didn’t bother to clarify what I meant, because the request was open ended. I stared at the wolf skull on the table and then dismissed it outright. It was a votive I couldn’t use, for a religion I didn’t understand. “Show me something that proves what you say is real. Show me how any of this will help mothers and their children.”

I saw the refugee woman in my mind again.

“Show me how having a sword or a bloodline or anything will stop people being killed.” I saw that little doll, crushed into the mud in Wildeford. “Will this sword help me to cut out the heart of Callum and then stab it through? Can I use it to defeat him? Otherwise, what’s the use of it?”

“I can’t show you that.” My grandfather seemed somewhat apologetic about that. “If you’d been allowed to come and live here. If you’d been able to visit the caves—”

“The answer is there?” I nodded sharply. “Then that’s where I’ll go.”

“That’s an unpredictable power.” My head whipped sideways to see Gael staring at me. “One you’ve already used and…”

Paid a high price for it, were his unspoken words, but I dismissed them with a frown. His concern was valid, but I couldn’t allow that to rule me, not right now.

“And what would’ve happened if I’d been allowed to grow up here?” I asked my grandfather.

“Nordred would’ve trained you,” he said, leaning forward. “We can send word…” His voice trailed away as I let out a sharp bark of laughter. “No?”

“Nordred?” I pulled back as if stung. “Nordred is the answer?”

“You trusted him,” my grandfather said. “He swore he would do his best to protect you from your father. He—”

“Died in battle,” I said, hearing the crackle of flames and the caws of the ravens from that day and it felt like the tiny mote of hope inside me died then. “We burned him on a pyre; commended his soul to the Morrigan. We’ll get no help from him.”

“Did he leave behind any books?” my grandfather asked, urgently. “Letters? Anything?”

“Just pain.” I forced my lips to curve into a smile, which hurt all the more. “He never spoke of any of this to me, not until the end, and when he started to tell me about it, he was away more than he was with me. Raising an army for me, he said. If this was his grand plan for me, he shared very few details of it.” I shook my head. “Is this what all your hopes are pinned on? Because, I’m sorry to say, that’s misplaced. Perhaps he didn’t believe that I was truly the one.”

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