disoriented, then it all came flooding in: the sharp daylight, the tang of blood on the wind and the realisation that she hadn't died this day.
'Majesty,' came a voice she recognised as Father Hoolyn's.
'What happened to me?' she asked, trying to sit up.
'Take it slowly, majesty,' someone cautioned.
'You passed out, luckily, my queen,' Hoolyn said.
'And as you slumped, the stranger's blade found its mark,' another voice said. 'Extraordinary. You were so fortunate, your majesty.'
She blinked, not fully understanding. 'Help me up, please.'
Florentyna felt strong arms beneath hers and she was returned gently to her feet, feeling slightly unsteady but glad to be upright and in control of herself again. Rittylworth monks, in their distinctive tan robes, immediately began to bow to their sovereign. Florentyna barely noticed, for she was looking for one man in particular, and there he was, standing off to the left away from everyone fussing around her. Before she could address him properly her attention became unhappily and helplessly riveted nearby to where he stood ... four bodies were neatly placed in a row, well away from where she'd fallen.
Their heads and torsos were covered with spare cassocks. Florentyna was instantly nauseated to recognise the feet of Dowager Saria, and the intense emotion occasioned by her stepmother's, Brom's and Felyx's deaths overtook her once again. She swallowed to steady herself.
She thought on her father's advice that people would wait on her word: 'Pause, breathe, compose, before you speak steadily, calmly and with confidence. That's how you win trust,' he had counselled. 'That's why men will follow you.'
Well, she needed only one to follow her now.
'Your majesty,' he said, bowing, as she approached.
'I don't know how you did this,' she said, glancing at Hubbard's corpse, 'but thank you.'
'Cassien killed him with a throwing blade,' the boy she'd seen earlier said enthusiastically, stepping forward. 'I'm Hamelyn, Queen Florentyna,' he added, with a perfectly executed bow. 'A friend of his.'
She regarded the boy with a faint smile: 'Greetings, Hamelyn.' Then she turned to his friend. 'You threw a blade that accurately at the man holding me in front of him?' she asked, incredulous. 'You were standing over there. That's an impossible throw, surely.'
'Maybe I was lucky, majesty,' the man replied, his tone modest.
'I admit that I saw it occur, my queen,' Hoolyn confirmed, 'and the accuracy of Master Cassien's throw directly into the eye of your attacker was like nothing I can imagine witnessing again, nor would I want to see such violence. He was dead before he hit the ground. Even so, I would be lying before Shar if I didn't say I was glad that this stranger happened upon you and dealt with the attackers, but the dowager ... and your man, Brom ...' He trailed off, looking mystified by the row of corpses.
Florentyna held out a hand. 'Cassien, is it?'
He looked at her gravely through dark blue eyes set in a symmetrical face of spare but nonetheless neat, proportionate features. His nose seemed to be in perfect concert with his mouth, leading to clearly defined lips that were generous but not thick. His hair looked freshly combed, his chin was shaved and he was wearing quality attire. It was his hands that caught her attention and made her linger; some fingers were misshapen, as though they'd been broken. And of course his piercing gaze, once she engaged it again, arrested her, held her hostage. Now that she was close enough to stare deeply into his eyes, she saw pain buried behind the calm they projected.
'Yes,' he answered.
'Of where, may I ask?'
'Of nowhere in particular, your majesty. I was born in Morgravia but I have spent a lot of time living in and around the Great Forest.'
'In the forest? Whatever for?'
'Why not? One can learn a lot when one lives in peace.'
'You sound like a philosopher, not a fighter.'
'That's because I am not a fighter, your majesty, although I was sent to protect you ... by a friend.'
Florentyna felt her pulse quicken at his words. She was suddenly sure she could guess who that friend might be. 'Father Hoolyn, perhaps we could shift these bodies. Dowager Saria must be laid out alone, please.' She immediately thought of Darcelle. 'My sister will ...' She heard her voice catching but cleared her throat. 'My sister will wish to pay her respects.'
'Of course,' Hoolyn answered and began organising his Brothers.
'Walk back with me, would you?' she said to Cassien.
He nodded, fell in step.
'Had I not lost consciousness and slipped from that