The Queen of the Tearling by Erika Johansen Read Free Book Online Page B

was a great admirer of New Europe. Even in the early wake of the Crossing, when borders were barely drawn and the southern New World was a battlefield for warlords, New Europe had been a thriving representative democracy with nearly universal participation in elections. But the Red Queen had changed many things; now New Europe was Mortmesne, and democracy had vanished.
    â€œWhat does the Red Queen want, then?” Kelsea had asked Carlin. She had no interest in maps and wanted to wrap up the lesson.
    â€œWhat conquerors always want, Kelsea: everything, with no end in sight.”
    Carlin’s tone had left Kelsea with a certainty: Carlin, who feared nothing, feared the Red Queen. Queen’s Guards were supposed to fear nothing as well, but as Kelsea looked around now, she saw a different story in their faces. She strove for a lighter tone. “Well, then, I’d best not let the Red Queen invade again.”
    Dyer snorted. “Precious little you could do, Lady, if she took it into her head.”
    Carroll clapped his hands. “Now that we’ve had our bedtime story from Mhurn, it’s time to sleep. And if any of you want a good-night kiss from Elston, let him know.”
    Elston chortled into his mug and then spread his huge arms. “Aye, for all who enjoy the tough love.”
    Kelsea stood up, tightening her cloak. “Won’t you all be hung over in the morning?”
    â€œProbably,” muttered the dark-haired guard named Kibb.
    â€œIs it really a good idea for so many of you to be drunk on this journey?”
    Carroll snorted. “Lazarus and I are the real Guard, Lady. These other seven are window dressing.”
    All of them burst out laughing, and Kelsea, feeling excluded again, turned and wandered back toward her tent. None of the men followed her, and she wondered whether anyone would guard the tent tonight. But when she turned around, Mace was right behind her, his tall silhouette unmistakable even in the dark.
    â€œHow do you do that?”
    He shrugged. “It’s a gift.”
    Kelsea ducked into her tent and fastened the flap. Stretching out on her bedding, she tucked a hand beneath her cheek. She had put on a bravura front by the campfire, but now she was shivering, first in her chest and then spreading to the rest of her body. According to Carlin, Mortmesne loomed large over its neighbors. The Red Queen demanded control, and she had it. If the Regent had truly allied with her, she even had control of the Tearling.
    A hacking cough came from the direction of the campfire, but this time Kelsea didn’t find the noise irritating. Digging inside her cloak, she took out the second necklace and squeezed it tightly in one hand, her own sapphire in the other. Staring at the apex of the tent, she thought of women raped and babies on the points of swords, and sleep didn’t come for a very long time.

Chapter 2
    The Pursuit
    The Tearling is not a large kingdom, but it embraces a wide variety of geography and climate. The heart of the country is flat and temperate, much of it rich farmland. In the west, the kingdom is bordered by the Tearling Gulf, and beyond that God’s Ocean, which remained uncrossed until well into the Glynn Queen’s reign. In the south, the country becomes dusty and dry as it reaches the borders of Cadare. On the northern border, above the Reddick Forest, foothills climb into the Fairwitch, an impassable mountain range. And in the east, of course, the Tearling runs a jagged border with Mortmesne. As years passed and the Red Reign of Mortmesne progressed, Tearling monarchs watched this eastern border with deepening unease . . . and for good reason.
    â€” The Tearling as a Military Nation , C ALLOW THE M ARTYR
    E arly in the morning, before the sun even thought of breaking the horizon, the Queen of Mortmesne woke from a nightmare.
    She lay frozen for a moment, her breath coming quickly, until she recognized the familiar scarlet of