Jana, Episode 9

The girls took Penelope down to the pool, and tried to distract her. The Queen sent for her advisors, and they talked until late. A courier was dispatched to the Duke with an offer to sub-contract the responsibility of maintaining the roads at a fair rate of remuneration. On the other hand, her advisors pointed out, Ione’s roads benefited all surrounding countries; it might be appropriate to levy a modest tariff on commercial traffic through the kingdom, and use the revenue to fund the forces, public works, and other undertakings that were becoming increasingly urgent. “But it is possible the Duke will not desist,” said the advisers.
Jane disengaged herself with some difficulty from the emotional Penelope, leaving her to the ministrations of Ianthe and Sophia. She headed over to the barracks, looking for Andromache, and was told where she was stationed: at the postern gate on the East Wall.
After a quick, delighted greeting, Andromache went back to watching the street and the wall.
“Andromache, … are you loyal to the Queen?” Jana asked.
“Yes,” she replied, without hesitation. “We all are, Jana. The Guard is loyal. It was not treachery, but negligence that caused the breach in security. We must do better!”
“Andromache… we have discovered the source of the plot to poison the Queen.”
“Who was it?” exclaimed Andromache, eagerly.
“Ultimately…the Duke of the Western Province!”
“By the gods!” she swore. “May his bones rot! Let him come and face me, the dog! Poison! Pah, what a filthy, cowardly weapon!” Andromache was furious. But she never once took her eyes off the street.

The Queen was greatly cheered to receive Andromache’s visit and her words of loyalty, when she came off duty. The Queen seldom had an opportunity to hear the feelings of the Royal Guard, and it gave her courage. She told the fierce young woman so.
“You fill me with admiration, my Queen!” said Andromache. “This threat to you fills me with the lust to murder! But if it had been myself who was threatened, very likely … I would have killed myself. Who can live like this?”
“Not I,” said the Queen in a terrible voice. “Sometimes I think to step down from the throne, and let my cousin, the Duke have it!” They gasped. “Other times, I think to go quietly --or loudly-- to some public place, and let them come and kill me. It’s me they want; and not the rest of you, after all.”
“Oh, wonderful. Give the land to robbers and thieves!” Ianthe was furious, in her turn, and mother and daughter glared at each other, idealism against despair. “I would take my knives and go to the top of the hill, and let them come and get me! At least I would go down fighting the cowards!”
“Child,” snapped the Queen, “your knife-throwing skill has gone to your head! This is your fault!” she added, turning to glare at Jana.
But she was surprised to see Jana lost in thought.
“Wait … I have an idea … if only …”
It took a while for Ianthe to leave her anger and her misplaced scorn for her mother, whom she dearly loved, and realize that perhaps Jana had a useful idea.
“What is it?” demanded Andromache. She was of good birth, and less intimidated by the irate Queen than the rest of them.
“Jana?” prompted Ianthe.
“If only … my Lady, if there was, say, some remote place --a cabin, or lodge, that must be sacrificed, possibly-- where you could go! We could let it out that you are going there, all alone, with, say, only her highness, and a maid. Daring all your enemies!”
“Yes, and die like a dog! That’s a novel idea. I thought of it first, if you were listening.”
“Only, my Lady, it will be not you, but me! As well, we will send word … but what’s the use? I haven’t heard of such a place …”
“Why, we have a lodge, indeed, in the high woods!” Ianthe’s eyes were wide with pride and excitement. “And we could send word to the Horse People, to set an ambush! Oh, beautiful!”
“Tell me this again!” demanded the Queen.

The plan gradually took shape. Of course it was bold and desperate. It entailed Jana visiting the cabin, masquerading as the Queen, and the Queen riding to the Horse People, masquerading as Jana. The Queen was of the opinion that Andromache was more her build and coloring, which was true. But Jana was more able to look after herself in a fight, if it came to that. Every Monday, Jana joined the Royal Guard for arms drill, and she was generally acknowledged to be an excellent fighter, unmatched for her speed and skill.
Finally the Queen was persuaded. “I cannot pretend,” she admitted, “I am fearful. For me, and for you, too.”
“Jana can teach you to fight, mother!”
The Queen’s eyes flashed. “Don’t presume to advise, me, child,” she warned. “I could shoot an arrow, and run like the wind! After giving birth to you, pah! I’m a shadow of the woman I was … I was no shrinking violet.”

Yet, the next day, she was at the practice court, dressed in a brief tunic.
“Once I was beautiful, Jana!” she said, a twinkle in her eye. “Now,” she shrugged, indicating her chubby legs.
“If you could shoot an arrow, Lady, you need only the strength back!”
“Give me a bow,” demanded the Queen. She cursed, finding herself unable to draw the bow she wanted. Finally, she drew one, and got her second shot in the center of the target, to the admiration of Jana and her daughter. All morning she tried better bows, until by lunchtime she could shoot a bow that could be carried a-horseback.
“I am easily tired,” the Queen complained, after lunch. “What shall I do to gain endurance?”
“You must learn to ride, anyway,” Jana pointed out, “and riding builds endurance.”
The Queen was off immediately.
Ianthe was delighted with her new, active mother.
Like Ianthe, Ione was born to ride. A bay like Jana’s own was found for her, and the Queen and the horse made friends at once. Ione was an intelligent and considerate rider, and once she had lost her stiffness, her joy showed clear on her face --Jana especially delighted in watching the mother and daughter racing each other along country roads.
Often the Queen would dismount, seeing a gathering of people, or a family of ducks on a pond, or youths playing in a field, and smile and talk with them. Returning home, she said it was as if a new life had begun for her.
“I want more!” she told Jana, who suggested the quarterstaff, and knife-throwing.
“The quarterstaff strengthens the arms, my Lady, and the knife …”
“Yes, yes, you are right! Let’s begin!”
What the Queen did, Ianthe must also do. A bow and a staff were found for her, and she went through the drills by her mother’s side. At night, both mother and daughter groaned with unaccustomed pain, and Jana rubbed oil and ointments into their arms, sharing their pain with them.

The winter brought heavy rains, and one day the Queen almost abandoned her planned ride with Ianthe, Jana and three guards. Suddenly the rain stopped, and the Queen decided to ride. She rode in front, despite their advice that it was better for her to ride in the middle of the little group.
Half an hour into the ride, an arrow narrowly missed the Queen, and embedded itself in Jana’s boiled-leather armor. With a yell, Jana galloped towards the source of the arrow. Far away, horses and riders were seen fleeing from the site of the attack, and Jana gave chase. But the riders headed back to the city, and Jana lost them.
The others were astonished at the fury on Jana’s face. “I lost them, I lost them!” she cursed, throwing the arrow on the ground and grinding her teeth.
“It is time,” said the Queen, grimly. “Wigs. We need wigs!”
[Next installment: Episode 10]
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