Epilogue 3.27 — Queen Rhea’s Theory

I had known very little about Queen Rhea before setting out with her for Xarinos—but I knew the Kingdom of Melar very well. As such, I expected her to be narrow, contentious and a bit dull. Imagine my shock when I found her to be intelligent, thoughtful, astute and open-minded.

In my arrogance, I had judged her the same way that humans judge reborn. That simply wouldn’t do. I was better than that. I had to be better than that.

                                                                                                  Excerpt from the Journal of the Emissary

Tenth of Striving 1142, Morning

Queen Rhea sat astride a gray mare, whom she had decided to call Lady, surrounded by what she considered to be extraordinary people. Every single one of them was special, though in some cases, she wasn’t aware how.

Treya, who had been human only a short time ago, was now a godling, the goddess of resilience. Rhea wasn’t yet sure how she felt about that. But she’d heard it from Mitra, so it was true, and that had always been enough for her.

Gallen Burke was a reborn man working as a palace guard—until he attempted to assassinate Treya. That attempt led directly to her ascension. So how does the queen punish him? She tethers him and makes him her first worshiper. A reborn worshiper before a human one. People wouldn’t understand. That was trouble waiting to happen.

Lord Ormund, the first man in history to ever be saved by having another soul grafted onto his. Rhea’s mother’s soul, no less. Queen Raven had volunteered her soul and sacrificed her life in the process, but Ormund had been saved. Of course, now he only spoke the chirkir language, and only Rhea herself could understand him when he spoke. And how had this magical miracle occurred? Queen Treya, because being an amazing queen apparently wasn’t enough, became the first soul healer in history to merge two human souls. It was women like her that made Rhea realize how little she’d accomplished in her life.

And then there was Bess, emissary to the Undead Queen. Over a hundred years old, reborn, and a healer at heart. The one advantage of being reborn, being a hundred and looking like you were twenty-something. Rhea had never thought about it before, but that must be real motivation for some people. Would a truly vain person choose to die young and be reborn because they could look that way forever? Maybe. Rhea herself wouldn’t have, but she could see that as a potential selling point.

And finally… Jerish. Rhea still had no idea what his deal was. The gods knew, though. And her mother had told her he was not what he appeared to be. That was a mystery she needed to solve.

But it wasn’t the only mystery on her mind.

She had learned in the temple of Mitra in Rish, during a special meeting few would ever know about, that the Undead King had unwitting spies, most of whom had never been near Xarinos. How? It didn’t seem possible.

Captain Jericho had been influenced by something. He didn’t get that way by himself. Had the Undead King somehow pushed Jericho to attack King Terrence? To torture Ormund?

She thought about it but didn’t have enough data. So she prayed to Mitra.

Ah, Rhea, thinking as always.

She kept her voice low, so others would not hear. “Yes, my goddess. I’ve been thinking about the Undead King’s spies. It’s possible I’ve been going about this the wrong way.”

Oh?

“What do you know about Captain Jericho?”

Quite a lot.

“Do you believe he was influenced by the Undead King?”

I have reason to believe he was. Iorana took his body to examine afterward, and his soul signature showed the same addendum that the other spies had, the same addendum that reborn have.

“So at some point, something brought him under the Undead King’s influence. But as far as I know, he’s been in Rish forever.”

For a long time at any rate. You know better than to use hyperbole, Rhea.

“Of course, I do. I’m sorry, my goddess.”

For almost twenty years, the furthest Jericho got from Rish was the edge of the woods that separate Twyl from Andara. He was there with the Adventurer’s Guild, tracking down a bleethe.

Rhea blinked. “A bleethe? What was it doing that far west?”

Most likely that was one of the years that the southern plains were stricken with drought and many creatures wandered further west in search of water. Reports of the bleethe were enough to alarm the guild. The creature was close enough to Rish that Jericho decided to participate. As I recall, he was hurt badly in the battle.

“How badly?”

He almost died. They thought he would, in fact. But the healing potion he received saved his life.

Rhea stopped dead. Healing potions. “Do you know what kind?”

I do not. But one would assume one of the more expensive ones. He was, after all, not only the Captain of the Wall but also of noble birth in his own right.

Rhea didn’t answer. Her mind spun. Healing potions. Lorelei produced the most effective high-end healing potions in the world, and it was the only country that had a trade agreement with the Undead King—a secret trade agreement.

“Mitra, do you know if anyone else who was a spy had taken an expensive healing potion from Lorelei?”

Mitra paused, which was unusual for the goddess. Finally, she spoke.

I know that a couple of my priests have, and that they are in fact spies. I would have to talk to my sisters to find out more. Give me a moment.

Rhea waited, heart pounding. Did the potions from Lorelei, the expensive ones, contain some ingredient that linked those who took them to the Undead King? If so, that was terrifying. During the Undead War, many generals, royals, nobles and high-level adventurers were injured, some badly. Was it possible? No, that was preposterous…

Rhea, I believe you may be onto something. As far as I can tell, every one of the spies we’ve discovered who worshiped one of the major gods has taken a high-end healing potion from Lorelei. Whether they were all the same exact potion we still need to investigate, but this was good work.

Rhea beamed. All her life, she had missed that sort of maternal approval. Mitra provided her with the affirmation missing since childhood. Somehow, that was enough.

“Thank you, my goddess.” Rhea remained silent while considering the implications. When she spoke, her voice contained notes of both excitement and fear. “Mitra?”

Yes, Rhea?

“What if the Undead King only started the war in order to distribute healing potions?”

The silence this time lasted longer. That’s a chilling implication, Rhea.

“It is, but I think it’s one that bears investigation. If the Undead King wanted intel, what better way was there to get it? We always thought we won that war, but what if the Undead King’s goal was to create a network of unwitting spies?”

Mitra didn’t answer, not with words anyway, but a moment later, Rhea leveled, for the first time in her life on horseback. She gripped the reins to make certain she didn’t fall off. Treya was beside her in a minute, grinning.

“Easy there. Just ride it out. Congratulations.”

Rhea didn’t answer and knew Treya didn’t expect her to. Though she’d never had another goddess congratulate her on leveling before. That was something she supposed she’d have to get used to.

Congratulations. You have reached Level 14. New skill unlocked: Speak to Animals. Whether your theory turns out to be true or not, this was well done, Ambassador Rhea. Well done indeed.

Rhea shook herself. Speak to Animals? Really? That’s going to be amazing. She was grinning from ear to ear.

“Good skill?” asked Treya.

“I can talk to animals now.”

“Wow. Moving up in the world. I didn’t even know scholars could get a skill like that.”

“It’s rare, for sure. I’m excited to try it.”

“How did you level while just riding here?”

I wouldn’t tell Queen Treya, or anyone else for that matter, until I’ve investigated your theory. It would be too easy for people to make assumptions that may not be based in fact.

“I think my conversation with Mitra should remain private, goddess.”

“Treya, remember? And that’s fine, Rhea, I understand completely.”

Treya left her to soak in the feeling of gaining another level, but Rhea couldn’t enjoy it for long. The one question kept echoing in her head over and over again.

What if Xarinos had won the Undead War, after all? It was unthinkable, surely. And yet, everything pointed to that being a very real possibility.

And now they were riding to Xarinos to make peace with the undead, while King Terrence was leading an army to fight a war with them. How could anyone know what the right thing to do was in a situation like this?

Rhea knew the answer. Think, learn, survive. And she’d been doing exactly that for all of her life.

Rhea cast her new skill.

Hello, Lady.

Hello. I didn’t know you could speak to me this way.

A few minutes ago, I couldn’t. I just wanted to say hi, and see if you were doing okay.

It’s nice of you to ask. I’m really happy, though I felt something odd happen a short time ago.

Could Lady have felt her level? She wasn’t aware animals had that sense.

What did it feel like?

Like rain on a hot afternoon. You should do that more often.

Rhea laughed. I’ll see what I can do.

She didn’t speak again, but she patted Lady on the side of her neck and then leaned back in the saddle.

She turned her thoughts back to the Undead King, healing potions, and Xarinos spies. To the Undead War and the implications of what she had learned today. Queen Treya’s mission to Xarinos had just become far more complicated.

 

This is the end of volume three. The story continues in The Wrong War, Lost Wisdom Volume Four.