The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

shall I do?” she whispered to deaf ears.
    She whispered her question again to the impatient Janataea hours later.
    “I don’t know, my princess. Your uncle has promised to replace me as your tutor and guardian before we break our fast at dawn.” The tall spinster, who had been with Mikka since her coming of womanhood, prowled the single room allotted to them. “The Lord Regent has pronounced me unfit to be a royal governess. I have allowed you to slip away to learn forbidden things once too often.” Janataea picked up a sampler of crude embroidery. “I see Lord Rumbelly has decided to allow you some needlework to occupy your hands while imprisoned.”
    “That’s my punishment. I have to learn proper women’s activities in order to entice a husband. As if any man would be interested in anything but my title and marriage portion.” Her brother faced the same problems in choosing a wife. At least Rossemanuel could wait another two years until he was old enough to assume the throne without a regent. Then he could choose his own queen.
    A harsh yowl broke their contemplative silence. The screech of cat claws scratching at the locked door sent shivers up Mikka’s spine. The annoyed guard, posted outside, opened the door just wide enough for Mikka’s pet cat, Rosse, to enter. Then the portal was locked and barred up.
    With tears in her eyes, Mikka picked up her closest companion. The small cat grumbled and mewed her protest at having to search the castle for her mistress. Mikka soothed the variegated brown fur with gentle strokes.
    “It is not fair. I won’t waste away into a stupid mouse like my mother,” Mikka proclaimed to the silent walls of her prison.
    “There is a fine line drawn between a strong woman and a . . . and the kind of women who are outlawed in this kingdom.” Janataea did not look at Mikka as she made this pronouncement.
    “What kind of woman is that?” Mikka didn’t look up from the cat.
    “A long time ago, the legends say, there were women warriors who fought alongside the men. They were strong and beautiful. Ideal companions to our fierce mercenaries. In battle, these women surrounded their men with protective spells. Their Songs of magic were said to send opposing armies into madly disorganized retreat. But the leader of the women’s brigade loved only women and refused to take any man to her bed. She seduced the queen.” Janataea refused to look at Mikka.
    “Another woman might prove a better lover than some of the rabbit kits my uncle wants me to wed.”
    “That kind of woman is not considered a suitable subject for an innocent princess to discuss.” Janataea finally turned to face her young charge. “Some say that long-ago queen, Safflon by name, was a powerful witch. She refused her husband access to her bed until he acknowledged their only child, Jaylene, as his heir. When he refused, the queen and her lover brought a plague on the entire country. The female warriors were executed, en masse, in their barracks. Queen Safflon was with them. They were all witches.” While the news of the ancient massacre penetrated Mikka’s thoughts, Janataea fingered the folds of her gown, which always concealed numerous pockets.
    “How awful.” Mikka clutched Rosse tight against her breast, as if the cat could protect her from a similar fate. The pet scrambled to her customary place on the princess’ shoulder and began her bath.
    “Since all of the women warriors worked witchcraft in protecting the armies, I presume my ancestors also condemned all witches. Is that why women are forbidden to Sing? ”
    Janataea nodded silently. “However,” the governess continued the lesson, “every few years rumors spread through Rossemeyer that some witches escaped. A race of women warriors is said to exist far to the west of here. Jaylene was exiled after her mother’s death. She may have set up a court somewhere with the survivors.”
    Mikka found the story horrible and fascinating at the same time. She could see a similar fascination in her governess’ expression and posture.
    Janataea was tall and strong. Her arm and back muscles were well developed, though she never seemed to exercise. Mikka had watched her pick up the royal brothers with ease, one under each arm, when they were ten and twelve. No small weight for a big man. And Janataea disliked men intensely.
    Could it be that this favored governess was really one of the legendary female warriors? Mikka’s imagination ran wild with