"What kind of fool holds their enemies in a place as comfortable as this?" she asked the maid who'd been sent to attend on her.
"I couldn't say, my lady," the girl said, setting down a bowl of soup. Athena considered launching it at her, but that would only waste good food. Or barely tolerable food.
"Your Majesty, you stupid girl. The term is 'Your Majesty.' Now get out."
The girl hurried out, looking as though she'd been stung. Athena wasn't particularly bothered by that, just as she wasn't particularly bothered by what she said to her. Athena would have had spies watching such an important prisoner. She would have had listeners at every wall, and watchers among those pretending to be friends. That was because she understood what was necessary. It was only one more difference between her and the weakness of the rebellion.
"If I had captured myself, it wouldn't be like this," Athena said to herself with a certain note of pride.
No, it wouldn't have been like this at all. With a foe of Athena's quality, she probably wouldn't have let her live at all. Dungeons and towers were fine in their way, but they were really just the places that you held someone until you could mete out a more permanent punishment. People left cells all the time, but they didn't come back from the doors of death.
Although, frankly, there were moments when Athena might have preferred death to the basic solitude of her tower cell. There was a bed, but it was a simple thing, more suited to a clerk than a queen. There were windows, but they were really little more than arrow slits with views out over the endless dullness of the city. She had books and parchment rather than strong wine or company.
"Maybe they plan to bore me to death," Athena said to herself with a faint note of amusement.
It was, frankly, the only thing she could think of that made sense. She'd held noble prisoners in good conditions before, of course, but that had only been because they or their families had paid for the privilege of something better than a dank hole. Only because they were hostages, and good treatment was part of the deal, or because there were political concessions to be had from it.
None of that applied in Athena's case, and so she had to conclude that the rebellion was stupid. The girl, Ceres, was the worst of the lot, thinking that kingdoms ran like bards' songs, where you never had to make the hard choices.
Had Athena been in charge of the rebellion, she would have seen every noble in the kingdom killed or captured in a single night of violence. If these things were to be done, it was better to do them all at once, so that anger would die down afterwards. And they needed to be done. Leave a foe's children's children alive, and some fool would come back to you in twenty years with a righteous grudge and the means to kill those you cared about.
Had Athena been in charge, she would certainly have seen herself beheaded, although probably not before she'd tortured herself for every secret the Empire had. Athena had collected information about her home, knowing it as surely as a mother knew any of her children, and the fools in the rebellion hadn't so much as asked. She would have gotten the name of every loyalist, the location of every secret and hostage that ensured that loyalty. She would have gotten a public confession, simply in exchange for the promise that her death would be an end to the pain if she did it.
The rebellion had done none of that. Athena looked forward to showing them how it was done.
The stones of the tower were thick, the door to her ludicrous excuse for a cell a good inch of bog oak. Even so, Athena had found herself more than capable of listening in on the conversations others had around her. It had become something of a pastime in the days since the rebellion had stolen her hard-earned throne.
She'd learned of some of the guards' hatred for her and all "her kind," which was an emotion Athena could at least respect. She'd heard how some of them wished they could just burst in and make it look as though she'd killed herself, held back only by their rather foolish sense that it wouldn't be right to disobey Ceres.
She'd heard other things too. The petty concerns of the commoners. She'd heard them talking about their lives or the lives they hoped to build. She'd heard one of the maids joking with the guards about what they might do if they got married. She'd heard a couple of the servants talking about how much better things might be now that they'd been able to squirrel away some of the money taken from the nobles.
Now, though, Athena could hear different sounds. Sounds that made her back away from the door and clutch the small eating knife from her meal as if it could defend her. A well brought up noblewoman did not bother with weapons. She had people to wield them. Even so, Athena held it carefully hidden in her sleeve.
From beyond the door, she heard the sound of a conversation, rising to a challenge. She heard a scream from somewhere below, and the metallic crash that meant swords striking against one another. It was quick, the screams cut short, the sounds of violence only lasting a few seconds. Even so, Athena felt her heart pounding as she moved to one side of the door.
The sounds of violence moved closer. There was a shout, and then something crashed against the door. Someone, Athena guessed, judging by the impact of it. She heard voices arguing, and the scrape of a key in a lock.
"Hurry up," a man snapped from beyond the door. "You think they won't have heard us?"
"They'd better not, or we're all dead."
Athena heard the lock on the door click, and readied herself behind it, with her tiny blade held ready in her hand. She had no illusions about being able to fight off assassins, but she wasn't going to let them kill her without at least trying to break free.
Of course some of the rebels would want to go beyond the orders of their leader. Of course they would want to kill her. It was only the sensible thing to do.
"Queen Athena?" one of the men called.
They stepped into the room. Two men dressed as guards, a young woman who was apparently a servant, and a young nobleman.
Athena picked one of the guards, darting forward, her blade pricking at his throat. The knife was so blunt it probably wouldn't break the skin, but Athena was willing to make the effort.
"Your majesty," the nobleman said. "Please do not be afraid. We are here to rescue you."
"Do I look afraid?" Athena demanded. She pushed away her hostage. "Well then, what are we waiting for?"
Athena strode to the door. She couldn't afford to appear weak, now or ever. "Did my son send you?"
The nobleman shook his head. Athena struggled to remember his name. Har something…Har of Slidemarsh, that was it. A foppish boy who fancied himself a playwright, if Athena remembered correctly, and who paid for the best players to put on his "creations," at least partly so that he could host outrageous parties.
"Forgive us, your majesty, but Prince Lucious has not been seen since the rebel uprising. The rumors are that he made his way to Felldust."
That was like Lucious. Run at the first opportunity, thinking of nobody but himself. Certainly never think about his own mother, regardless of the danger she might have been in.
"We have come to save you because we are loyal," Har declared. "Loyal to the Empire, and loyal to our true queen!"
They would see. For now, it was enough that she was free. On the stairs, she stepped past the bodies of the guards, and saw the crumpled form of the serving girl who'd been so incompetent. Athena shrugged. Peasants died.
"You're safe now, your majesty," Har said.
Athena doubted that. Even given the little she had seen of the city through her arrow-slit windows, she doubted that. War was coming, as war so often seemed to be, which meant that merely escaping wasn't going to be enough.
It was time for Athena to take back what was hers.
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