Page 57 of A Tale of Ice and Ash
She linked her arm in his.
The three of them moved through the dark streets at a brisk but unhurried pace, Niamh steering the way. Eventually, they arrived at a tavern. Niamh went round to the back entrance and rapped on the door. A big, burly man with slug-likeeyebrows answered it.
“The snowdrop waits in the forest,” Niamh whispered.
The man said nothing, moving aside and gesturing to a set of steps in the corner leading into the basement. They walked down silently. A small stage had been erected at the end, crates laid out like benches. A dozen or so people were already there. Cole recognised a few on sight– servants from the palace?
If his mother were here now…
“Sit,” Niamh instructed. “Say nothing.”
The two of them followed her instructions. One by one, a few others trickled in. Many wore cloaks or masks. There were definitely a couple of nobles amongst them, and he was suddenly thankful for Marie’s decision to streak him with mud. They stood out far too well in their pristine garments.
“Is that Lord Hammersmith?” he whispered to Marie.
“I think so.”
“He’s an ally? Or a spy?”
She shrugged. “No way to tell. But try not to reveal yourself.”
Cole nodded, but his legs couldn’t stay still. He kept searching for Snow. The room was full now. She could easily have slipped in without him noticing. He recognised some of the dwarves though. The one who shot him was by the stairs, examining everyone that came in.
Finally, the grumpy, one-legged dwarf hobbled up to the platform and banged his cane for silence.
“Greetings, countrymen,” he began, the room falling to a quiet hush, “I am glad to see so many of you, so many that are prepared to risk their lives for the sake of their country. I am Onyx, a simple wood dweller, but I come before you today asking for your aid. I will not beat about the bush; we want to dethrone Queen Bianca and take back the kingdom.”
A murmur washed over the crowd.
“So, what do you propose?” asked a peasant. “Take the Queen down, and then what? Appoint her son? Word is he’s not much better.”
“Well, that hurts a little…” said Cole under his breath.
Marie kicked him.
Onyx shook his head. “We have someone else in mind.”
“Who?”
“Me.” A small figure stood up from the crowd and stepped up to the platform, dropping her cloak to the floor. Dark waves sprung round her shoulders. She was wearing a white shirt and leather armour, simply but carefully dressed, half girlish, half warrior.
There were a few gasps. She might have disappeared from view years ago, but she had been a public figure until then, and the blue rose sitting in her hair was an excellent touch.
“I am Princess Eirwen of Aberthor, rightful heir to the throne. Five years ago, my stepmother tried to have me killed, but I survived. If you will help me, I will take back our kingdom. I will free us from Queen Bianca’s rule, and I will strive to guide our people into a future where no one fears the winter… or the monarch.”
A hush fell over the crowd.
“Well, she’s got my vote!” Cole whispered.
“Ssh!” hissed Marie. “That’s not how this works!”
“But how do you plan on doing any of that?” another asked. “Queen Bianca won’t give up the throne willingly.”
“I wasn’t planning on asking her nicely,” said Eirwen sharply, making Cole grin.
“We cannot divulge any plans just yet,” Onyx added, standing next to her. “The purpose of this meeting is to get a sense of numbers, and to ask you to seek out anyone else who might be willing to take a stand, knowing that the princess lives. Tell no one you do not trust.”
The crowd turned to one another, exchanged rushed words.
