ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Yes, babies pretend and otherwise, and lots of political plotting, and tomorrow, back to Geshichte Falls.
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The book of the burning
- Thread starter ChrisGibson
- Start date
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Thirty- Four
“In those days will he be born of the Rootless Isle and of the Ayl, blood old and blood new the old people and the new may be one. He will be scorned by his brethren in the east therefore flee to the West, only to descend below the earth. There shall the sword he possess singing sword in times new as it did of old and his reign shall be most glorious.”
- The Song of Arsennon
FROM THE LIP of the scarcely lit cavern, Hace watched his master, bent low over the cards, on the sandy floor of the cave. He was completely veiled and now and again Hace watched the wizard’s hands move over the cards as he sorted and resorted them, laying them out in patterns, gathering up cards, cutting them, laying them out again. Across the cavern the otherpaths of the underground passes led into darkness.
Hace turned and looked to Theone.
“I thought magic was flashier than this,” he gestured at Theone.
“Well, as we’ve seen,” she said, “sometimes it is.”
She touched the jewel at her neck and the crystal star glinted faintly.
When the labyrinth and the ground all around them began to collapse, they ran as long as possible, Hace clinging to Ohean’s staff as the only magic he had. Dust and stones fell about them, and they were just out of the labyrinth when the stone wall collapsed and, like a miracle, Yarrow and Orem were there. On the other end were a few men, those who had made it all the way down, ready to fight them for the Jewel, but Orem put an end to them, and then they were going through the blackness with a magelight borne in the palm of Yarrow’s hand. Higher and higher they had gone until the earth stopped shaking, until these paths seemed familiar again and they were nearer where they were now, where Yarrow had brought them a few days before.
Ohean rose up from the sandy floor, and the thick veil fell away from him. He gathered it under one arm and came toward the rest of them, leaving the cards on the ground.
“We cannot cross the land, and we dare not re-enter the city,” Ohean told them. “This much I already suspected, but my reading has confirmed it.”
They went down the hall toward the light, Theone’s stone glowing deeper, the facets of the star showing a white and pink light. When they were coming here from the caves, Hace had born the Jewel, but when they had reached this place he turned to Theone and said, “It is yours. You have been searching for it all this time.”
Orem turned to the flabberghasted woman and said, “Hace is right, you know? This is the moment you’ve lived for.”
Theone look from Orem to the stone Hace held out and said, “Yes. Yes, it is the day I longed for.”
And when she put it on, that was when it began to twinkle, and by the time Ohean had arrived with Rendan and Ethan, her joy was complete and the stone was on fire.
“But that won’t work,” Rendan said.
Ohean looked at him.
“I am King now.”
“Phineas and your uncle say different.”
“I cannot go with you,” Rendan said. “I can’t flee like a dog into the Westlands when my uncle is taking my place here. And… my father’s funeral. I have to see my father’s funeral.”
Ohean nodded to this.
“We will think of something else.” Hace saw him open his mouth, but Ohean said nothing, merely folded his hands.
Days before, most of them they had never seen Yarrow. She came through the door moments before Phineas had sent his men, and she commanded them to gather up their things. Theone could only describe the force of her voice as so powerful her muscles could not deny it. No one asked any questions and then they were coming down the hall and they were back on the first floor and she stretched out her hand, the wall opened and they went into the darkness.
“Long ago, when the Temple of Darkness was built, the Royan worked with the Dwarves during the time before Kavana’s Punishment and built these passes throughout the city. By these one can travel all through Tankrish Benath, that is Nava. But beyond them are the Deep Passes. These are closed up by mighty spells, but I have the power to open them.”
Before anyone could ask the question, she said, “I am Cylthenfay and I know the words of power. Phineas does not. Phineas may have heard of the Deep Passes, but he does not know them, nor could he enter if he did.”
Their travel had taken them far beneath the city, but that first evening, Cylthenfay had told them, they were now somewhere between the hotel and the Temple, Hace had thought beneath the bazaar. And here they were now, in the large set of rooms that Ohean told them was a place where “often the wizards and loremasters of Royan had come to watch over the affairs of South.”
Now, after the wreck of the Temple, Ohean came to Rendan and said, “Prince, you have to tell me what you want to do, because I know what I need to do.”
Rendan was surprised by the enchanter’s candidness, but recovered quickly and said: “I have to see my father buried. That is the first thing. My mother’s family lives in Kenremer, and I must go to them. I need to raise an army. I need to take my land back.”
“And I cannot dissuade you.”
“No,” Rendan told him. Then, “No, Lord.”
“Lord Ohean,” Rendan said, “is there a safe way that I could get out to see the funeral?”
“There is a way,” Ohean said. “The safest way I know. We will have to disguise you. I can place an enchantment upon you, as can Yarrow. And after you leave, you can come back.”
“But I said I was going—”
Ohean held up a hand, “I have not finished, Prince.
“Once you have returned by the Northeast Pass you can travel beneath the earth for several days, I believe, before coming out onto the surface and making your way to Kenremer.”
“But we have to travel as well,” Theone said. “Dissenbark is still at the house with Arvad. And Mehta has to get back. And Orem and the others, we don’t know what they wishe to do.”
Orem looked back at Skabelund, at Dahlan and his mother.
“I cannot speak for them,” he began, “but How could you think I would wish to be separated from you?”
“And I cannot go back to being the housekeeper of a farm,” Mehta said, shaking her head. “But you are right, Theone, we do have to get back to Turnthistle. At least to let Arvad and Dissenbark know what has happened.
“But you all,” Anson turned to the Zahem, “have a decision to make.”
“I was already part of this,” Austin said, “and there isn’t anything happening in Nava I want to see.”
“I have sent my wife to the Southlands,” Skabelund said.
He turned to Ohean, “Sir wizard, I do not understand your people or their ways. Magic is forbidden to us, but I can see there is goodness in you. However, I do understand war, and I think, if he would allow it, I will follow Prince Rendon.”
“If it is between Solahn and Chyr,” Allman said, “then I must choose Solahn, an I trust the Prophet will do the same.”
“I choose wonder,” Dahlan said. “I choose Chyr.”
His mother seemed unsurprised, but next, Dahlan said, “Though all of my people have forsaken me, I trust you still hold me to be the One Prophet, and if this is so, then take my mother with you to Solahn and Sariah as well. As for me, I will adventure with these people, if they will have me.”
Aimee Kimball only nodded to this, believing that the best sign of respect she could pay her son was to obey him as the Last Prophet. Anson considered the boy and, nodding, said, “With a good will.”
“I once met the Princess Maud,” Dahlan said to Ethan, “and she spoke good council to me, told me what a danger the priests were. I would thank her again if I might. She thought to never see you again. I would be pleased to see the look on her face when she knows you are alive.”
“That settles that,” Ohean said. “I would not like to wait in the dark for several days, but several days it will take to escort some of us to Turnthistle. I do not see us all going. Who shall remain here, waiting, and who will go with us?”
This road leads a day out of the city and from it we can find ourselves on the road to Turnthistle,” Ohean said.
“I cannot believe that Phineas isn’t watching for us,” said Theone.
“Nor can I,” Yarrow agreed. “Every moment we venture out of these Passes, and are not headed to Chyr is one where we take risks, but then life is risk, yes? Well, we will take a risk tomorrow, when we are rested. You,” she pointed at Orem, and then Mehta and Theone. “and you and you will head for Turnthistle while Ohean will find out more about the burial of the king and then, as quickly as possible, we will head back for Chyr with the Stone, for that is our goal.”
In the end, all the original party save Austin and Pol chose to go on. Jon thought of hanging back, but Anson pointed out this was cowardice concerning Arvad again. The others would remain in the cavern or wind their way into town for the funeral, and so, lighting his sword and heading east, once Ohean had nodded his head and said he was ready, Anson led the party back to Turnthistle Farm.
“Despite what Anson said, you did not have to stay with me.”
“I know that,” Jon Dell said, climbing from a rock down to where Ohean sat with Theone, rolling cigarettes. “But you didn’t want to go to the funeral, and it didn’t have much meaning for me.”
“I imagine it does for that boy, though,” Ohean said. “I understand. However, Queen Ermengild will probably be lying in state soon enough.”
“Ohean, you don’t know that,” Theone chided.
“Anyone who has seen the woman knows it,” Ohean told her. “and the cards do not spell it out. But they imply it.”
“She is my great-grandmother,” Theone reflected.
Ohean nodded. “And she doesn’t know you are alive. The only heir is Tealora and, as we’ve said, she is going to be Rendan’s new aunt any day.”
“That,” Anson said, “is a strange thing. Solahn and Chyr, one land.”
“Technically they wouldn’t be,” Theone noted, drawing on the sand under her feet with a long stick.
“Technically,” Ohean said, looking away, “has little to do with it.”
“I wish the others would get back,” Theone hugged the Jewel, feeling the facets poke her hard the inside of her hand. “Now that we’ve done the first thing, I’m eager to get on with it.
“You know, I’m not afraid anymore. I didn’t know how terrified I was until now. Until we came out of this. Now I feel strong as a lion. Or a tiger.”
“Will Theone be Queen?” Jon asked.
Theone blinked and Ohean said, “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“I don’t know that I wish to be a queen.”
“Queen is what you will be,” Ohean told her, “if you reach Chyr. When Ermengild dies. As she will. She is ready for it. I have seen her star and she has lived through more sorrow than most.”
“Theone is half Dauman,” Jon reflected.
Theone thought on this. “My father was a Hand. The Hands are Dauman. I… never thought of myself as much of anything.”
“But Dauman you are,” Ohean said. “Chyr is a land of many half somethings. It’s a mixed land now. Not like this one. You will be happy there.”
“Yarrow is your sister,” Theone said. “But not your sister?”
“Yes,” Ohean said.
“Will you explain?”
“You know most of what there is to be known. We came into this world during the time of Trouble. The same time the Fair Folk came. And those who remained will stay here until the appointed time, which is no time soon as I can see. I have always been the protector of Ossar, and Yarrow watched over the South.”
“And the rest?” Theone said.
Ohean shrugged and there was the smell of his cigarette, as he lit one.
“There is myself, though my memories of other lives returned to me only recently. And then Yarrow. The others I would not discuss right now. I would not discuss until we are well from this place. The others do as they will. I do not know where they are. Truthfully, they seemed to have faded. Maybe, even, they went back into the East, across the sea. I do not know. Only three I know. Myself and Yarrow.”
“That is not three.” Jon noted.
“We are the two I will name.”
Ohean left it at that, and Jon murmured the names, “Aethlyn, Finlan… Finlan…”
“Master, that is Phineas, isn’t it?”
Ohean said, “It was. When he came here he found other powers. He forgot his old allegiances. You must understand, here we became men, and women. Across the sea we were something… other. That is why Phineas has the appearance of a Dauman and Issa and myself that of the south. Of old we looked more like each other than like other races. But this was so even with the children of Men looked like when Mahonry brought them to this world. Of old we were all something quite different, and more like each other than not.”
“How much… is Phineas like a man?” Anson said.
“You mean can he be killed?”
Anson did not nod immediately. But he did nod.
“We are all men now, An,” Ohean said. “Men, but something more. As Nar is a Bear and Banthra a Tiger, but they are also Vanyar, the Gods. Phineas, having forgotten himself is far more like a man than me.
“However,” Ohean said after a time, pointing to Callasyl, “I am not sure if he can be killed with that sword.”
Anson was about ask why, but he thought better of it. Too many questions, and he sensed that many of them were to be answered in a more private gathering that they had now.
“And you?” Anson said.
“Can I be killed?”
Anson said nothing.
Ohean touched his cheek and Theone watched them.
“I do not know,” the wizard said. “Because, as of yet, it has not happened.”
MERRY CHRISTMAS. BACK IN A FEW DAYS
“In those days will he be born of the Rootless Isle and of the Ayl, blood old and blood new the old people and the new may be one. He will be scorned by his brethren in the east therefore flee to the West, only to descend below the earth. There shall the sword he possess singing sword in times new as it did of old and his reign shall be most glorious.”
- The Song of Arsennon
FROM THE LIP of the scarcely lit cavern, Hace watched his master, bent low over the cards, on the sandy floor of the cave. He was completely veiled and now and again Hace watched the wizard’s hands move over the cards as he sorted and resorted them, laying them out in patterns, gathering up cards, cutting them, laying them out again. Across the cavern the otherpaths of the underground passes led into darkness.
Hace turned and looked to Theone.
“I thought magic was flashier than this,” he gestured at Theone.
“Well, as we’ve seen,” she said, “sometimes it is.”
She touched the jewel at her neck and the crystal star glinted faintly.
When the labyrinth and the ground all around them began to collapse, they ran as long as possible, Hace clinging to Ohean’s staff as the only magic he had. Dust and stones fell about them, and they were just out of the labyrinth when the stone wall collapsed and, like a miracle, Yarrow and Orem were there. On the other end were a few men, those who had made it all the way down, ready to fight them for the Jewel, but Orem put an end to them, and then they were going through the blackness with a magelight borne in the palm of Yarrow’s hand. Higher and higher they had gone until the earth stopped shaking, until these paths seemed familiar again and they were nearer where they were now, where Yarrow had brought them a few days before.
Ohean rose up from the sandy floor, and the thick veil fell away from him. He gathered it under one arm and came toward the rest of them, leaving the cards on the ground.
“We cannot cross the land, and we dare not re-enter the city,” Ohean told them. “This much I already suspected, but my reading has confirmed it.”
They went down the hall toward the light, Theone’s stone glowing deeper, the facets of the star showing a white and pink light. When they were coming here from the caves, Hace had born the Jewel, but when they had reached this place he turned to Theone and said, “It is yours. You have been searching for it all this time.”
Orem turned to the flabberghasted woman and said, “Hace is right, you know? This is the moment you’ve lived for.”
Theone look from Orem to the stone Hace held out and said, “Yes. Yes, it is the day I longed for.”
And when she put it on, that was when it began to twinkle, and by the time Ohean had arrived with Rendan and Ethan, her joy was complete and the stone was on fire.
“But that won’t work,” Rendan said.
Ohean looked at him.
“I am King now.”
“Phineas and your uncle say different.”
“I cannot go with you,” Rendan said. “I can’t flee like a dog into the Westlands when my uncle is taking my place here. And… my father’s funeral. I have to see my father’s funeral.”
Ohean nodded to this.
“We will think of something else.” Hace saw him open his mouth, but Ohean said nothing, merely folded his hands.
Days before, most of them they had never seen Yarrow. She came through the door moments before Phineas had sent his men, and she commanded them to gather up their things. Theone could only describe the force of her voice as so powerful her muscles could not deny it. No one asked any questions and then they were coming down the hall and they were back on the first floor and she stretched out her hand, the wall opened and they went into the darkness.
“Long ago, when the Temple of Darkness was built, the Royan worked with the Dwarves during the time before Kavana’s Punishment and built these passes throughout the city. By these one can travel all through Tankrish Benath, that is Nava. But beyond them are the Deep Passes. These are closed up by mighty spells, but I have the power to open them.”
Before anyone could ask the question, she said, “I am Cylthenfay and I know the words of power. Phineas does not. Phineas may have heard of the Deep Passes, but he does not know them, nor could he enter if he did.”
Their travel had taken them far beneath the city, but that first evening, Cylthenfay had told them, they were now somewhere between the hotel and the Temple, Hace had thought beneath the bazaar. And here they were now, in the large set of rooms that Ohean told them was a place where “often the wizards and loremasters of Royan had come to watch over the affairs of South.”
Now, after the wreck of the Temple, Ohean came to Rendan and said, “Prince, you have to tell me what you want to do, because I know what I need to do.”
Rendan was surprised by the enchanter’s candidness, but recovered quickly and said: “I have to see my father buried. That is the first thing. My mother’s family lives in Kenremer, and I must go to them. I need to raise an army. I need to take my land back.”
“And I cannot dissuade you.”
“No,” Rendan told him. Then, “No, Lord.”
“Lord Ohean,” Rendan said, “is there a safe way that I could get out to see the funeral?”
“There is a way,” Ohean said. “The safest way I know. We will have to disguise you. I can place an enchantment upon you, as can Yarrow. And after you leave, you can come back.”
“But I said I was going—”
Ohean held up a hand, “I have not finished, Prince.
“Once you have returned by the Northeast Pass you can travel beneath the earth for several days, I believe, before coming out onto the surface and making your way to Kenremer.”
“But we have to travel as well,” Theone said. “Dissenbark is still at the house with Arvad. And Mehta has to get back. And Orem and the others, we don’t know what they wishe to do.”
Orem looked back at Skabelund, at Dahlan and his mother.
“I cannot speak for them,” he began, “but How could you think I would wish to be separated from you?”
“And I cannot go back to being the housekeeper of a farm,” Mehta said, shaking her head. “But you are right, Theone, we do have to get back to Turnthistle. At least to let Arvad and Dissenbark know what has happened.
“But you all,” Anson turned to the Zahem, “have a decision to make.”
“I was already part of this,” Austin said, “and there isn’t anything happening in Nava I want to see.”
“I have sent my wife to the Southlands,” Skabelund said.
He turned to Ohean, “Sir wizard, I do not understand your people or their ways. Magic is forbidden to us, but I can see there is goodness in you. However, I do understand war, and I think, if he would allow it, I will follow Prince Rendon.”
“If it is between Solahn and Chyr,” Allman said, “then I must choose Solahn, an I trust the Prophet will do the same.”
“I choose wonder,” Dahlan said. “I choose Chyr.”
His mother seemed unsurprised, but next, Dahlan said, “Though all of my people have forsaken me, I trust you still hold me to be the One Prophet, and if this is so, then take my mother with you to Solahn and Sariah as well. As for me, I will adventure with these people, if they will have me.”
Aimee Kimball only nodded to this, believing that the best sign of respect she could pay her son was to obey him as the Last Prophet. Anson considered the boy and, nodding, said, “With a good will.”
“I once met the Princess Maud,” Dahlan said to Ethan, “and she spoke good council to me, told me what a danger the priests were. I would thank her again if I might. She thought to never see you again. I would be pleased to see the look on her face when she knows you are alive.”
“That settles that,” Ohean said. “I would not like to wait in the dark for several days, but several days it will take to escort some of us to Turnthistle. I do not see us all going. Who shall remain here, waiting, and who will go with us?”
This road leads a day out of the city and from it we can find ourselves on the road to Turnthistle,” Ohean said.
“I cannot believe that Phineas isn’t watching for us,” said Theone.
“Nor can I,” Yarrow agreed. “Every moment we venture out of these Passes, and are not headed to Chyr is one where we take risks, but then life is risk, yes? Well, we will take a risk tomorrow, when we are rested. You,” she pointed at Orem, and then Mehta and Theone. “and you and you will head for Turnthistle while Ohean will find out more about the burial of the king and then, as quickly as possible, we will head back for Chyr with the Stone, for that is our goal.”
In the end, all the original party save Austin and Pol chose to go on. Jon thought of hanging back, but Anson pointed out this was cowardice concerning Arvad again. The others would remain in the cavern or wind their way into town for the funeral, and so, lighting his sword and heading east, once Ohean had nodded his head and said he was ready, Anson led the party back to Turnthistle Farm.
“Despite what Anson said, you did not have to stay with me.”
“I know that,” Jon Dell said, climbing from a rock down to where Ohean sat with Theone, rolling cigarettes. “But you didn’t want to go to the funeral, and it didn’t have much meaning for me.”
“I imagine it does for that boy, though,” Ohean said. “I understand. However, Queen Ermengild will probably be lying in state soon enough.”
“Ohean, you don’t know that,” Theone chided.
“Anyone who has seen the woman knows it,” Ohean told her. “and the cards do not spell it out. But they imply it.”
“She is my great-grandmother,” Theone reflected.
Ohean nodded. “And she doesn’t know you are alive. The only heir is Tealora and, as we’ve said, she is going to be Rendan’s new aunt any day.”
“That,” Anson said, “is a strange thing. Solahn and Chyr, one land.”
“Technically they wouldn’t be,” Theone noted, drawing on the sand under her feet with a long stick.
“Technically,” Ohean said, looking away, “has little to do with it.”
“I wish the others would get back,” Theone hugged the Jewel, feeling the facets poke her hard the inside of her hand. “Now that we’ve done the first thing, I’m eager to get on with it.
“You know, I’m not afraid anymore. I didn’t know how terrified I was until now. Until we came out of this. Now I feel strong as a lion. Or a tiger.”
“Will Theone be Queen?” Jon asked.
Theone blinked and Ohean said, “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“I don’t know that I wish to be a queen.”
“Queen is what you will be,” Ohean told her, “if you reach Chyr. When Ermengild dies. As she will. She is ready for it. I have seen her star and she has lived through more sorrow than most.”
“Theone is half Dauman,” Jon reflected.
Theone thought on this. “My father was a Hand. The Hands are Dauman. I… never thought of myself as much of anything.”
“But Dauman you are,” Ohean said. “Chyr is a land of many half somethings. It’s a mixed land now. Not like this one. You will be happy there.”
“Yarrow is your sister,” Theone said. “But not your sister?”
“Yes,” Ohean said.
“Will you explain?”
“You know most of what there is to be known. We came into this world during the time of Trouble. The same time the Fair Folk came. And those who remained will stay here until the appointed time, which is no time soon as I can see. I have always been the protector of Ossar, and Yarrow watched over the South.”
“And the rest?” Theone said.
Ohean shrugged and there was the smell of his cigarette, as he lit one.
“There is myself, though my memories of other lives returned to me only recently. And then Yarrow. The others I would not discuss right now. I would not discuss until we are well from this place. The others do as they will. I do not know where they are. Truthfully, they seemed to have faded. Maybe, even, they went back into the East, across the sea. I do not know. Only three I know. Myself and Yarrow.”
“That is not three.” Jon noted.
“We are the two I will name.”
Ohean left it at that, and Jon murmured the names, “Aethlyn, Finlan… Finlan…”
“Master, that is Phineas, isn’t it?”
Ohean said, “It was. When he came here he found other powers. He forgot his old allegiances. You must understand, here we became men, and women. Across the sea we were something… other. That is why Phineas has the appearance of a Dauman and Issa and myself that of the south. Of old we looked more like each other than like other races. But this was so even with the children of Men looked like when Mahonry brought them to this world. Of old we were all something quite different, and more like each other than not.”
“How much… is Phineas like a man?” Anson said.
“You mean can he be killed?”
Anson did not nod immediately. But he did nod.
“We are all men now, An,” Ohean said. “Men, but something more. As Nar is a Bear and Banthra a Tiger, but they are also Vanyar, the Gods. Phineas, having forgotten himself is far more like a man than me.
“However,” Ohean said after a time, pointing to Callasyl, “I am not sure if he can be killed with that sword.”
Anson was about ask why, but he thought better of it. Too many questions, and he sensed that many of them were to be answered in a more private gathering that they had now.
“And you?” Anson said.
“Can I be killed?”
Anson said nothing.
Ohean touched his cheek and Theone watched them.
“I do not know,” the wizard said. “Because, as of yet, it has not happened.”
MERRY CHRISTMAS. BACK IN A FEW DAYS
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
That was a well done portion! So much going on and it is very interesting trying to figure out how things will end up. I can’t really which is one of the reasons it is so good to come back to this continuing story. Great writing and I look forward to more in a few days! Merry Christmas to you too and I hope you had a nice day!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
I did have a nice day even if now I am sort of feeling the after Christmas slump, but being at the computer and writing actually helps with that. This part was especially fun to write, so I'm glad you enjoy it.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
“I’m so happy,” Kenneth said. “But afraid too. Does that make any sense?”
A day or so before, Arvad would have said no. When Jon was here, there was only happiness. There was a little bit of an ache when he was gone, but happiness when he was in bed.
“Yes,” Arvad said.
“But not completely happy,” Kenneth continued. “I want to be completely happy. I want to not be afraid. I’m sick of fear. I’m sick of it, and I think I felt it most of my life. Though I can’t remember most of my life.”
“What do you think you were?” Arvad asked. “What you were was what my master was. He was unhappy too. When I first met him there was something in his eyes. He laughed a lot. But there was something in his eyes.”
Kenneth sat up in bed. They were in the darkness, and Arvad said. “There is something in yours too.”
“You take it away,” Kenneth said. “When I think of you it goes away.”
Then he said, “I am afraid I rely too much on you.”
“No!” Arvad’s voice was sharp. He said, “No. You don’t. We have to… depend on someone. You know?”
From the other side of the room they shared, Kenneth nodded in the dark, but Arvad couldn’t see a nod. Instead what he heard was Kenneth say, “I think before I was feeling fear I must have been feeling nothing at all. I must have been dead for a long time. I think I did terrible things. I know I did.”
Just then there was a scream, and the two of them leapt from their beds, Kenneth touching the knife he always kept at his side. Instantly, and perhaps instinctively, his hand went across Arvad’s chest, and he placed his body before him. Even in the fear there was something that welled in the farmboy, being protected by Kenneth.
“Stay behind me,” Kenneth told him, and they moved down the hall, but at the steps they heard laughter, and then Dissenbark shouting, “Come down! Come down!”
Kenneth looked at Arvad and Arvad shrugged. The two young men went down the long steps and in the kitchen there was Orem.
“Master! Mehta!” Arvad cried. “And Masters Ohean and Anson! All of You. Lady Theone! Jon. I never thought to see any of you again?”
“And altogether?” Dissenbark began. “But…”
“It’s such a long story,” Theone said, pulling out a chair at the table and sitting down, exhausted. “We will talk of it all over breakfast.”
“That is the thing,” Orem said, and he told them the whole long story. They all stood up for it, not moving, and Orem left out unnecessary details while Dissenbark shook her head and said, “I must get back to them. I must be with Theone. And you, you were her man. You are her man?”
Orem hid his eyes at this.
“What?” Dissenbark said.
“I don’t know if that’s still true.”
“I’ll bet it is,” Dissenbark said.
Orem shrugged to this and Arvad said, “This is Kenneth. He has been staying with us.”
Orem’s nostrils flared when he saw the young man, and the two fhem stood looking at each other before Theone said, flatly, “He was a Hand.”
“That’s what I’m told,” Kenneth said, simply. “My earliest memory, except for dreams, is of the house I stayed in with a woman called Yarrow, and with Birch. They told me some enchantment is upon me, and now my old life is gone.”
Theone nearly fainted, and Kenneth stepped forward to catch her before Orem could. Orem looked tense, as if he did not entirely trust Kenneth to catch the woman he loved.
“I… ” Theone began. “Yarrow is with us.”
“Really?” Kenneth smiled. “Well, now, Birch is with me.”
“Who is this Birch?” Orem wondered, and Mehta thought, “Well, now, it’s his house. He has a right to wonder.”
“Out in the yard, milking the cows,” Dissenbark said. “She believes in making herself useful. Wish I did.”
Orem, still looking at Kenneth closely, he rolled up his sleeve and showed him the Black Star on his wrist.
Kenneth gasped like one hurt, and Orem murmured, “You really have forgotten.”
“Yes,” Kenneth said, sounding uncertain.
“Would that I could. Would that such an enchantment was on me.”
“Then we are… the same?”
“Yes,” Orem said, “though you are the more blessed.”
Kenneth hung his head and Arvad dared to slip his hand into Kenneth’s. The pressure of Kenneth’s hand was firm as he caught Arvad’s and he said, “Did we do… terrible things?”
Orem’s mouth was hard and sharp.
“Yes,” he said. “You should pray to all the Gods that if you have forgotten so purely you never recall.”
“What in the world is going on!” the back door swung open and crashed as Aunt Birch stamped into the house from the barn. “Such a din as I never—”
And then she stopped talking.
Ohean’s eyes were wide, and now no one was talking, for two people who should not know each other at all, were apparently quite surprised.
It was Ohean who came to the golden skinned woman with her gold white hair. Still open mouthed, he touched her cheek and his hand went over her face as if he were blind.
“Essily,” he said.
“Ohean,” she said.
And then from Ohean, she looked to the tall, bronze haired man in the midst of them who alone had not spoken.
“Anson,” she said.
And he said, “Mother.”
“Well as you remember,” Essily said to Ohean as the sunrise, the kitchen was filling with the scent of sausage and eggs, “your mother, Aunt Senaye, always had those dreams. A year before your father,” she turned to Anson, “call for our assistance, when the White Plague was just beginning, I began to dream, to dream of Five Stars, and in my dream one fell into Aunt Senaye’s mouth and one into mine. That was as far as it went until I came to Kingsboro. I loved your father, but I was not in love with him. What of it? His wife, the Queen, was freshly dead. He came to me in need. I did not reject him. But I did not expect to have a child. When I knew I was with child I thought, what a poor show if he were not legitimate and so I, who have always scorned marriage, made sure Anthal married me. Despite all we had done to help the people in the plague, they would not have Rootless witch for a queen and, in truth, I did not wish it. You know in that land one must be crowned queen, not only married to the king. And so I left, with you, planning to have to sent back there one day.
“Now, I knew that Coviane was hateful,” Essily said, “But what I had never expected was that she, who was never a woman of great power, would find someone who was. She found Phineas, and with him she made a great geasa. By it I was driven from the Rootless Isle, driven from my own powers, driven from contacting my kin until the day they should find me. And impossible geasa. By now I knew of the Five Stars, the Phineas was the fallen one, that Ohean was the magely one, and that Anson, you are the Hero—”
Here, Theone gasped, but then she said, “I ought to have known.
“I’m sure you suspected,” Essily said to her. “I went to the fifth star, which is Yarrow. She assured me if I remained with her, then in time, I would be released from the enchantment placed on me. And so, for twenty-eight years, I have watched from a far, never thinking I would have my son. And now that I do,” she said looking on Anson, “I cannot tell what use he would have for me.”
Anson clasped his mother’s hand tightly, but said nothing.
“I wish I could kill her,” he finally said of Coviane. “I will kill Phineas.”
Essily noted Anson’s hand on the hilt of his sword, and she said, “I wonder, son, if you could kill Phineas with that sword. It is Callasyl, is it not? You have found it again?”
“Again?”
“It has been yours for many ages,” Essily said, “and if it is Callasyl, then…”
“But Ohean said the same thing,” Theone noted.
“Because Callasyl is the fourth of the Five Stars,” Essily said, plainly.
“But how?”
“The same way you and Ohean are reborn as Hero and Mage across many worlds, Callasyl chose to be come into the world as a stone or a wand or an amulet sometimes, as as implement of heroes. Now it is a sword. The Inarion come into the world as many things. The Five are the highest, but there are others, all in the world to protect it until the end of days, and since Callasyl is, after all, the sister of Finlan, I do not know if she will kill him.”
“But I will kill him,” Ohean said. “I have no qualms, and so will Anson. Now that I think of it, I cannot imagine that Callasyl would disobey the will of the one who wields her.”
“I would make it very slow, very painful,” Anson said. “So often I wept for you, Mother.
“Nevermind,” he said, at last. “When this is done we shall go to Ondres, and you shall live as the queen you are. You will be in high state and all will know you as the Prince’s mother.”
“Anson,” she said, simply, “That is not the way it will be at all.”
He blinked at her.
“I think, though,” Essily said, “it will be better.”
TOMORROW WE RETURN TO WORKS AND DAYS
A day or so before, Arvad would have said no. When Jon was here, there was only happiness. There was a little bit of an ache when he was gone, but happiness when he was in bed.
“Yes,” Arvad said.
“But not completely happy,” Kenneth continued. “I want to be completely happy. I want to not be afraid. I’m sick of fear. I’m sick of it, and I think I felt it most of my life. Though I can’t remember most of my life.”
“What do you think you were?” Arvad asked. “What you were was what my master was. He was unhappy too. When I first met him there was something in his eyes. He laughed a lot. But there was something in his eyes.”
Kenneth sat up in bed. They were in the darkness, and Arvad said. “There is something in yours too.”
“You take it away,” Kenneth said. “When I think of you it goes away.”
Then he said, “I am afraid I rely too much on you.”
“No!” Arvad’s voice was sharp. He said, “No. You don’t. We have to… depend on someone. You know?”
From the other side of the room they shared, Kenneth nodded in the dark, but Arvad couldn’t see a nod. Instead what he heard was Kenneth say, “I think before I was feeling fear I must have been feeling nothing at all. I must have been dead for a long time. I think I did terrible things. I know I did.”
Just then there was a scream, and the two of them leapt from their beds, Kenneth touching the knife he always kept at his side. Instantly, and perhaps instinctively, his hand went across Arvad’s chest, and he placed his body before him. Even in the fear there was something that welled in the farmboy, being protected by Kenneth.
“Stay behind me,” Kenneth told him, and they moved down the hall, but at the steps they heard laughter, and then Dissenbark shouting, “Come down! Come down!”
Kenneth looked at Arvad and Arvad shrugged. The two young men went down the long steps and in the kitchen there was Orem.
“Master! Mehta!” Arvad cried. “And Masters Ohean and Anson! All of You. Lady Theone! Jon. I never thought to see any of you again?”
“And altogether?” Dissenbark began. “But…”
“It’s such a long story,” Theone said, pulling out a chair at the table and sitting down, exhausted. “We will talk of it all over breakfast.”
“That is the thing,” Orem said, and he told them the whole long story. They all stood up for it, not moving, and Orem left out unnecessary details while Dissenbark shook her head and said, “I must get back to them. I must be with Theone. And you, you were her man. You are her man?”
Orem hid his eyes at this.
“What?” Dissenbark said.
“I don’t know if that’s still true.”
“I’ll bet it is,” Dissenbark said.
Orem shrugged to this and Arvad said, “This is Kenneth. He has been staying with us.”
Orem’s nostrils flared when he saw the young man, and the two fhem stood looking at each other before Theone said, flatly, “He was a Hand.”
“That’s what I’m told,” Kenneth said, simply. “My earliest memory, except for dreams, is of the house I stayed in with a woman called Yarrow, and with Birch. They told me some enchantment is upon me, and now my old life is gone.”
Theone nearly fainted, and Kenneth stepped forward to catch her before Orem could. Orem looked tense, as if he did not entirely trust Kenneth to catch the woman he loved.
“I… ” Theone began. “Yarrow is with us.”
“Really?” Kenneth smiled. “Well, now, Birch is with me.”
“Who is this Birch?” Orem wondered, and Mehta thought, “Well, now, it’s his house. He has a right to wonder.”
“Out in the yard, milking the cows,” Dissenbark said. “She believes in making herself useful. Wish I did.”
Orem, still looking at Kenneth closely, he rolled up his sleeve and showed him the Black Star on his wrist.
Kenneth gasped like one hurt, and Orem murmured, “You really have forgotten.”
“Yes,” Kenneth said, sounding uncertain.
“Would that I could. Would that such an enchantment was on me.”
“Then we are… the same?”
“Yes,” Orem said, “though you are the more blessed.”
Kenneth hung his head and Arvad dared to slip his hand into Kenneth’s. The pressure of Kenneth’s hand was firm as he caught Arvad’s and he said, “Did we do… terrible things?”
Orem’s mouth was hard and sharp.
“Yes,” he said. “You should pray to all the Gods that if you have forgotten so purely you never recall.”
“What in the world is going on!” the back door swung open and crashed as Aunt Birch stamped into the house from the barn. “Such a din as I never—”
And then she stopped talking.
Ohean’s eyes were wide, and now no one was talking, for two people who should not know each other at all, were apparently quite surprised.
It was Ohean who came to the golden skinned woman with her gold white hair. Still open mouthed, he touched her cheek and his hand went over her face as if he were blind.
“Essily,” he said.
“Ohean,” she said.
And then from Ohean, she looked to the tall, bronze haired man in the midst of them who alone had not spoken.
“Anson,” she said.
And he said, “Mother.”
“Well as you remember,” Essily said to Ohean as the sunrise, the kitchen was filling with the scent of sausage and eggs, “your mother, Aunt Senaye, always had those dreams. A year before your father,” she turned to Anson, “call for our assistance, when the White Plague was just beginning, I began to dream, to dream of Five Stars, and in my dream one fell into Aunt Senaye’s mouth and one into mine. That was as far as it went until I came to Kingsboro. I loved your father, but I was not in love with him. What of it? His wife, the Queen, was freshly dead. He came to me in need. I did not reject him. But I did not expect to have a child. When I knew I was with child I thought, what a poor show if he were not legitimate and so I, who have always scorned marriage, made sure Anthal married me. Despite all we had done to help the people in the plague, they would not have Rootless witch for a queen and, in truth, I did not wish it. You know in that land one must be crowned queen, not only married to the king. And so I left, with you, planning to have to sent back there one day.
“Now, I knew that Coviane was hateful,” Essily said, “But what I had never expected was that she, who was never a woman of great power, would find someone who was. She found Phineas, and with him she made a great geasa. By it I was driven from the Rootless Isle, driven from my own powers, driven from contacting my kin until the day they should find me. And impossible geasa. By now I knew of the Five Stars, the Phineas was the fallen one, that Ohean was the magely one, and that Anson, you are the Hero—”
Here, Theone gasped, but then she said, “I ought to have known.
“I’m sure you suspected,” Essily said to her. “I went to the fifth star, which is Yarrow. She assured me if I remained with her, then in time, I would be released from the enchantment placed on me. And so, for twenty-eight years, I have watched from a far, never thinking I would have my son. And now that I do,” she said looking on Anson, “I cannot tell what use he would have for me.”
Anson clasped his mother’s hand tightly, but said nothing.
“I wish I could kill her,” he finally said of Coviane. “I will kill Phineas.”
Essily noted Anson’s hand on the hilt of his sword, and she said, “I wonder, son, if you could kill Phineas with that sword. It is Callasyl, is it not? You have found it again?”
“Again?”
“It has been yours for many ages,” Essily said, “and if it is Callasyl, then…”
“But Ohean said the same thing,” Theone noted.
“Because Callasyl is the fourth of the Five Stars,” Essily said, plainly.
“But how?”
“The same way you and Ohean are reborn as Hero and Mage across many worlds, Callasyl chose to be come into the world as a stone or a wand or an amulet sometimes, as as implement of heroes. Now it is a sword. The Inarion come into the world as many things. The Five are the highest, but there are others, all in the world to protect it until the end of days, and since Callasyl is, after all, the sister of Finlan, I do not know if she will kill him.”
“But I will kill him,” Ohean said. “I have no qualms, and so will Anson. Now that I think of it, I cannot imagine that Callasyl would disobey the will of the one who wields her.”
“I would make it very slow, very painful,” Anson said. “So often I wept for you, Mother.
“Nevermind,” he said, at last. “When this is done we shall go to Ondres, and you shall live as the queen you are. You will be in high state and all will know you as the Prince’s mother.”
“Anson,” she said, simply, “That is not the way it will be at all.”
He blinked at her.
“I think, though,” Essily said, “it will be better.”
TOMORROW WE RETURN TO WORKS AND DAYS
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
Well some surprises for me and the characters! Good to meet Anson’s mother. This story never fails to keep me interested and entertained! Great writing and I look forward to Works and Days tomorrow!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Well, of course, since Aunt Birch is Anson's mother you met her a long time ago, but just didn't know who she was, but yes, there is a great surprise revealed at last.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
When Dahlan, Skabelund, Aimee and the rest of the party heard feet trampling up ahead on the North Way, there was relief, a great collective sigh. Who else could it be but them, and they waited, Yarrow gathering up the last of the things and then there was the crowd, and Yarrow ran to Birch and Ohean.
“But even you said nothing,” Ohean said.
“I could say nothing,” Yarrow said. “I could only wait for the geas to be broken when you went to the farm.”
“But who are the others?” Dahlan began.
Arvad appeared to be about to explain things when Dissenbark said, “Oh, it’s a long story and we haven’t time. Only know he’s going too. See. He brought this horse with him.”
Theone looked hard at the roan, and at the smiling Kenneth. She said, “I know this horse.”
“I thought as much,” Dissenbark said. “It’s the very horse you had and turned away at the Pass.”
“Well, then we’re all linked,” Kenneth said, cheerily.
When Prince Rendan returned to the Passes, his face was as stony as the walls.
“It is done,” he said. “I thought I would feel better. Or more… something, seeing it. They did not hold it in the Temple. That’s ravaged anyway. That was the best part of the day. Do you know bits of it keep falling apart by the day.”
At this Elder Allman winced, and Skabelund’s mouth went into a straight line but the Prophet, Austin noticed, seemed unaffected.
“Near the front they’ve struck water. Phineas has removed the priests to his palace and they’re swarming all over ours. That’s where the funeral was.”
“It was not,” Mehta said, “worthy of a king. One lowly priest of Banthra. He did everything the way Phineas told him. You know he was bullied.”
“Shouldn’t it have been done in the King’s City?” Theone said.
“My uncle,” Rendan turned to her, “told the people assembled—after the funeral he went out to the balcony—that the funeral should be here, and my father’s funeral pyre should be here, that when they enter the King’s City it should have only the joy of his coronation. Oh, yes,” Rendan turned to Theone, “and he announced his marriage to that cousin you’ve never met, Ermengild’s neice.”
“He will have the throne of Chyr before he’s done with it,” Ohean murmured, and Anson imagined that he did no mean Bellamy, but rather Phineas.
“They burned him out in the field that we entered this city from,” Rendan’s voice was choked with anger as he turned to Ethan.
“Only a few days ago. I told him… I said be careful, Father.”
And then the Prince said, “My wrath… I will not put up with Phineas. I will not beart him in my land. I will have an end of him. I will drive him and all his servants out of the land of Solahn forever. I promise this.”
He rang his hands quickly and then said, “But for now I wish to be alone.”
The Prince left and Mehta looked after him.
“I have a spot in my heart for sad men,” she said. And then, despite his words, she followed him while Ethan and Yarrow watched.
While Mehta was walking away, Skabelund stood over Austin.
“Yes?” Austin looked up at him.
“We have not spoken,” he said. “Not about anything.”
“Erek,” Austin said, “you had led me to believe we had long since run out of things to say.”
“Maybe talking is overrated.”
“Maybe,” Austin agreed, still looking at him.
“I am going south,” Skabelund said. “Magic is not my world.”
Austin nodded.
“Come with me.”
“Yes,” was all Austin said.
Skabelund nodded, and then sat with his back to the rock, beside his old love.
“Lady,” Rendan said, “I appreciate your coming, but I was in earnest when I said I wished to be left alone.”
“Yes, I know,” Mehta pulled her skirts under her and sat on a rock. “But as you can see, I’m just the sort of girl who can’t leave folks alone.” She shook her head. “And certainly no lady.”
Rendan smiled at her despite himself and said, “I disagree. You certainly are very much a lady. More than I’ve met at the courts back home who have… no spunk, no spine, and no will of their own.”
“That,” Mehta said, “is a sweeping indictment. And since I’m just a kitchen girl and haven’t met those royal ladies, I can’t say yay or nay to it. Not until I get there, which is good. Because I’m going.”
“Lady!”
“Actually, it’s Mehta, and I just feel like I’ve been telling Orem all this time: I need my own life. Well, if when he comes back he’s following Theone and… they’re going to be king and queen or something like that, then I figure I need to make my own way too. So why not with you?”
That last morning, though parting was sad, and though Ethan doubted himself for traveling south with Rendan, when Maud was in the north, they all knew it was time to part ways, and that every moment they waited beneath the earth they lost time. And yet Mehta had to see Arvad, She had to say goodbye to Orem.
So
Ohean and Yarrow were discussing what Jon assumed to be wizardly matters, and Mehta and Arvad were murmuring things and roughly slapping each other until at last they embraced. And then Ethan spoke.
“We should be on our way too.”
Mehta nodded. She hugged Arvad first, roughly, and then Orem, and then all of them, and Rendan said, “We’ll all meet again soon enough. And next time it will be above ground.”
“And in better times,” Ohean murmured.
“Yes, sir enchanter. In better times.”
And then Rendan took from his belt a horn, and he blew it, impulsively, three times, and it rang against the rock ceilings hidden in darkness. Rendan. Ethan, Mehta and all the Zahem including Austin, excluding Dahlan, headed off with Yarrow in one direction while the others watched them trudge into the dark.
When they were gone, Ohean wrapped his cloak tight about himself and said, “And now for us.”
CHYR
THE CITY OF IMMRACHYR
There was a rumble of clouds and old Ronnerick, folding his hands together murmured, “They know.”
Now there was a sharp crackle and he turned away from the scene of glass grey sky, etched occasionally with lightning, gentle rain coming harsher now, turning the stone towers and houses of Immrachyr black.
“Shinehah, Lord of the Storm, Rage and mourn,” Ronnerick murmured, his fingers threading through his white beard.
A young page came into the large, low walled room which was lit only by a little horn lantern on an old scarred desk.
“My lord, the Queen!” he called.
Ronnerick was too old to be fast. He nodded. The boy reached for his hand and they made their way down the long hall.
“You shouldn’t be in the dark like this, my lord,” the page chided. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Thiis is no time to be on your own.”
“I came here when I was younger than you,” Ronnerick mused, his pace too slow for the boy. “I was a country lad from a country estate, closer to the border and Solahn than to the heart of things. I didn’t know a thing about Chyr, or about our people, though my blood was royal enough, and the kings and queens of Solahn were my fathers and mothers. In those days I beheld the splendor of Chyr for the first time. And I beheld Ermengild. She was tall and fair. She was… the color of brown sugar. Her eyes were golden. They called her Ermengild Golden Eye, and the trials of life had not dimmed them, not that they have, not that all this time later, her eyes is not as bright as ever. Her hair was as golden as her eyes. Her father had just died. She was new to the Throne and Chyr was a power. Men came from all over to beg for her hand. The world was brighter then.”
Thunder cracked across the sky and the page nearly jumped. They had entered Telvon Hall and here it seemed the world had once, indeed, been brighter. All the lights were low now. They have been for days. From both sides of the walls, carved in dark stone, the Kings and Queens looked upon them as they passed. There was King Hernan, Ermengild’s father. And as they passed through this hall, the serene face of Lethana the White, the only Queen who had ruled nearly as long as Ermengild.
This was her sixty-second year. Each year they hoped she would hold on a little longer, hold on for the return of the lost princesses or their children, of which some had heard tale. They were always hoping for their return. Indeed, if Ermengild had not hoped for it, she would never have allowed Tealora to marry a Solahni prince.
Here, in Yshan’s Room, the large hall before the Queen’s chambers, cousins were gathered. All the lords closest to the Queen were of the House of Chyr, or of the Alcontradi, all kin to her, though far down in the line of succession. The heir, it seemed, was not here. A Raven had come the other day with the message, her husband was King in Solahn now. And she had gone to him. When Tealora left, the whole palace wondered what she would come back to, how could they change the Law of Succession. There was no use hoping for lost princesses who would never come.
“She has waited for you,” Katelin said, and the girl bowed and allowed Ronnerick to enter with his page.
“At last,” the old Queen croaked. “My chamberlain had come.”
“Away!” she croaked. “All away save Ronnerick, save his son, save his page.”
She turned to the boy, and nodded.
The room emptied now, until only three remained, and outside, thunder, like the sound of a heavy blanket being ripped slowly, moved across the air.
She was high in bed, and had pushed the covers away from her. Beside her sat Dessanon, Lord of Meresell, the nephew of Ronnerick and Chief Hand.
“Now that I am old, a mass of creases and wrinkles, a spirit that has outlived its body, Mother Amana sends Shinehah to take me away.”
The thunder crackled and shook the walls.
“I do not fear you,” the old Queen smiled. “Blow. Come for me.”
“The Queen,” Ronnerick said, “is as fair as ever.”
“And the Chamberlain is blinder than he has ever been before,” Ermengild told him. “Bless your cataracts, it is a mercy on me. Still,” her face grew quiet. “I always hoped. I knew Addiwak had promised me, that my issue still lived. Else, I would never have allowed Tea… I would have… Done… something.”
The Queen was lost, as she was now and again in the labrynths of the lifetimes of somethings she would have done, but could not see her way to.
“Still,” she spoke after a time, “the only thing is for my kingdom. But Addiwak, when she gave us the Star, promised to always watch over this land, and it was she who said fear not and so… I will not. Witness.”
They all looked at her, but it was Ronnerick who came nearer, leaning on his staff.
“Witness,” she said again, and she lifted her finger to beckon to him.
“Witness.”
There was one last burst of thunder.
“I die,” Queen Ermengild said.
There was a heavy fall of rain. No thunder, just a fall of rain, and Ronnerick was still looking into the eyes which had dimmed to bronze. He knew what to do, though in all of his life he’d never done it. First he extended his two fingers to close the eyes of his Queen. Next, he took the round compact mirror from one of the folds of his rich robe, and then opened it and placed the mirror to the Queen’s nostrils. When there was no mist he made a slight gesture and his nephew, Dessanon came forward with a great red book, gilt in gold. He opened it. A velvet marker was at its proper place. Never was this book opened in sixty-two years and most times it was placed before the chapel of the Kings.
Now Ronnerick inscribed in it the life and the death of Ermengild and then removed from the Queen’s finger, her ring.
“Go,” the old man told the page.
The page, whose face had been averted toward the large globe at the end of the room, closed his eyes soberly and nodded. He had been one of the three to witness the death of the longest reigning Queen of Chyr. He bowed and left the room, closing the doors behind him.
Only a moment later the old man and the younger could hear the collected breath and beginning sighs of the rest of the House of Alcontrad, outside the chamber as they stood over the Queen’s body and the thunder began again, booming softly, rain like nails tapping outside, splashing on the balcony.
“The only good thing about this moment,” Dessanon said to his uncle, “is that no one will ever wear her ring again.”
The old man nodded and above them, slowly, the chapel bells began to toll.
MORE AFTER THE NEW YEAR
“But even you said nothing,” Ohean said.
“I could say nothing,” Yarrow said. “I could only wait for the geas to be broken when you went to the farm.”
“But who are the others?” Dahlan began.
Arvad appeared to be about to explain things when Dissenbark said, “Oh, it’s a long story and we haven’t time. Only know he’s going too. See. He brought this horse with him.”
Theone looked hard at the roan, and at the smiling Kenneth. She said, “I know this horse.”
“I thought as much,” Dissenbark said. “It’s the very horse you had and turned away at the Pass.”
“Well, then we’re all linked,” Kenneth said, cheerily.
When Prince Rendan returned to the Passes, his face was as stony as the walls.
“It is done,” he said. “I thought I would feel better. Or more… something, seeing it. They did not hold it in the Temple. That’s ravaged anyway. That was the best part of the day. Do you know bits of it keep falling apart by the day.”
At this Elder Allman winced, and Skabelund’s mouth went into a straight line but the Prophet, Austin noticed, seemed unaffected.
“Near the front they’ve struck water. Phineas has removed the priests to his palace and they’re swarming all over ours. That’s where the funeral was.”
“It was not,” Mehta said, “worthy of a king. One lowly priest of Banthra. He did everything the way Phineas told him. You know he was bullied.”
“Shouldn’t it have been done in the King’s City?” Theone said.
“My uncle,” Rendan turned to her, “told the people assembled—after the funeral he went out to the balcony—that the funeral should be here, and my father’s funeral pyre should be here, that when they enter the King’s City it should have only the joy of his coronation. Oh, yes,” Rendan turned to Theone, “and he announced his marriage to that cousin you’ve never met, Ermengild’s neice.”
“He will have the throne of Chyr before he’s done with it,” Ohean murmured, and Anson imagined that he did no mean Bellamy, but rather Phineas.
“They burned him out in the field that we entered this city from,” Rendan’s voice was choked with anger as he turned to Ethan.
“Only a few days ago. I told him… I said be careful, Father.”
And then the Prince said, “My wrath… I will not put up with Phineas. I will not beart him in my land. I will have an end of him. I will drive him and all his servants out of the land of Solahn forever. I promise this.”
He rang his hands quickly and then said, “But for now I wish to be alone.”
The Prince left and Mehta looked after him.
“I have a spot in my heart for sad men,” she said. And then, despite his words, she followed him while Ethan and Yarrow watched.
While Mehta was walking away, Skabelund stood over Austin.
“Yes?” Austin looked up at him.
“We have not spoken,” he said. “Not about anything.”
“Erek,” Austin said, “you had led me to believe we had long since run out of things to say.”
“Maybe talking is overrated.”
“Maybe,” Austin agreed, still looking at him.
“I am going south,” Skabelund said. “Magic is not my world.”
Austin nodded.
“Come with me.”
“Yes,” was all Austin said.
Skabelund nodded, and then sat with his back to the rock, beside his old love.
“Lady,” Rendan said, “I appreciate your coming, but I was in earnest when I said I wished to be left alone.”
“Yes, I know,” Mehta pulled her skirts under her and sat on a rock. “But as you can see, I’m just the sort of girl who can’t leave folks alone.” She shook her head. “And certainly no lady.”
Rendan smiled at her despite himself and said, “I disagree. You certainly are very much a lady. More than I’ve met at the courts back home who have… no spunk, no spine, and no will of their own.”
“That,” Mehta said, “is a sweeping indictment. And since I’m just a kitchen girl and haven’t met those royal ladies, I can’t say yay or nay to it. Not until I get there, which is good. Because I’m going.”
“Lady!”
“Actually, it’s Mehta, and I just feel like I’ve been telling Orem all this time: I need my own life. Well, if when he comes back he’s following Theone and… they’re going to be king and queen or something like that, then I figure I need to make my own way too. So why not with you?”
That last morning, though parting was sad, and though Ethan doubted himself for traveling south with Rendan, when Maud was in the north, they all knew it was time to part ways, and that every moment they waited beneath the earth they lost time. And yet Mehta had to see Arvad, She had to say goodbye to Orem.
So
Ohean and Yarrow were discussing what Jon assumed to be wizardly matters, and Mehta and Arvad were murmuring things and roughly slapping each other until at last they embraced. And then Ethan spoke.
“We should be on our way too.”
Mehta nodded. She hugged Arvad first, roughly, and then Orem, and then all of them, and Rendan said, “We’ll all meet again soon enough. And next time it will be above ground.”
“And in better times,” Ohean murmured.
“Yes, sir enchanter. In better times.”
And then Rendan took from his belt a horn, and he blew it, impulsively, three times, and it rang against the rock ceilings hidden in darkness. Rendan. Ethan, Mehta and all the Zahem including Austin, excluding Dahlan, headed off with Yarrow in one direction while the others watched them trudge into the dark.
When they were gone, Ohean wrapped his cloak tight about himself and said, “And now for us.”
CHYR
THE CITY OF IMMRACHYR
There was a rumble of clouds and old Ronnerick, folding his hands together murmured, “They know.”
Now there was a sharp crackle and he turned away from the scene of glass grey sky, etched occasionally with lightning, gentle rain coming harsher now, turning the stone towers and houses of Immrachyr black.
“Shinehah, Lord of the Storm, Rage and mourn,” Ronnerick murmured, his fingers threading through his white beard.
A young page came into the large, low walled room which was lit only by a little horn lantern on an old scarred desk.
“My lord, the Queen!” he called.
Ronnerick was too old to be fast. He nodded. The boy reached for his hand and they made their way down the long hall.
“You shouldn’t be in the dark like this, my lord,” the page chided. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Thiis is no time to be on your own.”
“I came here when I was younger than you,” Ronnerick mused, his pace too slow for the boy. “I was a country lad from a country estate, closer to the border and Solahn than to the heart of things. I didn’t know a thing about Chyr, or about our people, though my blood was royal enough, and the kings and queens of Solahn were my fathers and mothers. In those days I beheld the splendor of Chyr for the first time. And I beheld Ermengild. She was tall and fair. She was… the color of brown sugar. Her eyes were golden. They called her Ermengild Golden Eye, and the trials of life had not dimmed them, not that they have, not that all this time later, her eyes is not as bright as ever. Her hair was as golden as her eyes. Her father had just died. She was new to the Throne and Chyr was a power. Men came from all over to beg for her hand. The world was brighter then.”
Thunder cracked across the sky and the page nearly jumped. They had entered Telvon Hall and here it seemed the world had once, indeed, been brighter. All the lights were low now. They have been for days. From both sides of the walls, carved in dark stone, the Kings and Queens looked upon them as they passed. There was King Hernan, Ermengild’s father. And as they passed through this hall, the serene face of Lethana the White, the only Queen who had ruled nearly as long as Ermengild.
This was her sixty-second year. Each year they hoped she would hold on a little longer, hold on for the return of the lost princesses or their children, of which some had heard tale. They were always hoping for their return. Indeed, if Ermengild had not hoped for it, she would never have allowed Tealora to marry a Solahni prince.
Here, in Yshan’s Room, the large hall before the Queen’s chambers, cousins were gathered. All the lords closest to the Queen were of the House of Chyr, or of the Alcontradi, all kin to her, though far down in the line of succession. The heir, it seemed, was not here. A Raven had come the other day with the message, her husband was King in Solahn now. And she had gone to him. When Tealora left, the whole palace wondered what she would come back to, how could they change the Law of Succession. There was no use hoping for lost princesses who would never come.
“She has waited for you,” Katelin said, and the girl bowed and allowed Ronnerick to enter with his page.
“At last,” the old Queen croaked. “My chamberlain had come.”
“Away!” she croaked. “All away save Ronnerick, save his son, save his page.”
She turned to the boy, and nodded.
The room emptied now, until only three remained, and outside, thunder, like the sound of a heavy blanket being ripped slowly, moved across the air.
She was high in bed, and had pushed the covers away from her. Beside her sat Dessanon, Lord of Meresell, the nephew of Ronnerick and Chief Hand.
“Now that I am old, a mass of creases and wrinkles, a spirit that has outlived its body, Mother Amana sends Shinehah to take me away.”
The thunder crackled and shook the walls.
“I do not fear you,” the old Queen smiled. “Blow. Come for me.”
“The Queen,” Ronnerick said, “is as fair as ever.”
“And the Chamberlain is blinder than he has ever been before,” Ermengild told him. “Bless your cataracts, it is a mercy on me. Still,” her face grew quiet. “I always hoped. I knew Addiwak had promised me, that my issue still lived. Else, I would never have allowed Tea… I would have… Done… something.”
The Queen was lost, as she was now and again in the labrynths of the lifetimes of somethings she would have done, but could not see her way to.
“Still,” she spoke after a time, “the only thing is for my kingdom. But Addiwak, when she gave us the Star, promised to always watch over this land, and it was she who said fear not and so… I will not. Witness.”
They all looked at her, but it was Ronnerick who came nearer, leaning on his staff.
“Witness,” she said again, and she lifted her finger to beckon to him.
“Witness.”
There was one last burst of thunder.
“I die,” Queen Ermengild said.
There was a heavy fall of rain. No thunder, just a fall of rain, and Ronnerick was still looking into the eyes which had dimmed to bronze. He knew what to do, though in all of his life he’d never done it. First he extended his two fingers to close the eyes of his Queen. Next, he took the round compact mirror from one of the folds of his rich robe, and then opened it and placed the mirror to the Queen’s nostrils. When there was no mist he made a slight gesture and his nephew, Dessanon came forward with a great red book, gilt in gold. He opened it. A velvet marker was at its proper place. Never was this book opened in sixty-two years and most times it was placed before the chapel of the Kings.
Now Ronnerick inscribed in it the life and the death of Ermengild and then removed from the Queen’s finger, her ring.
“Go,” the old man told the page.
The page, whose face had been averted toward the large globe at the end of the room, closed his eyes soberly and nodded. He had been one of the three to witness the death of the longest reigning Queen of Chyr. He bowed and left the room, closing the doors behind him.
Only a moment later the old man and the younger could hear the collected breath and beginning sighs of the rest of the House of Alcontrad, outside the chamber as they stood over the Queen’s body and the thunder began again, booming softly, rain like nails tapping outside, splashing on the balcony.
“The only good thing about this moment,” Dessanon said to his uncle, “is that no one will ever wear her ring again.”
The old man nodded and above them, slowly, the chapel bells began to toll.
MORE AFTER THE NEW YEAR
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
That was a great portion! So the Queen is dead huh? That was unexpected. Lots going on but I am enjoying it. Excellent writing and I look forward to more soon! Happy New Year!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
It is too bad. She died without ever meeting Theone. I wonder if I won't change that. Certainly a lot will be changed in the end.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
“Wherefore,” said the damosel, “have you stayed from me so long. Didst thou not lovest me?”
And said the knight, “It is for this very reason, that I have loved you long, why I have stayed away so long.”
Then said the damosel, “Come to me, and let love be not parting, but love.”
- from The Chanson de Rose
THE SEA OF ARMOR
The barge swam to the Dauman ship, reminding King William of crocodile as it approached. At last, the two faced each other and William motioned for the draw bridge to link the two. It was he who came across the to barge with its flapping red banners and when he crossed, he bowed to man as handsome as a villain standing next to a tall straight, characterless looking man, someone nearly inhuman.
“You are the King Bellamy,” William bowed, and Bellamy bowed in return.
“And you are the mage Phineas.”
Phineas merely blinked.
“We have taken Zahem with not even a drop of blood,” Bellamy said.
“Zahem is small and undesired,” William said, “And from what I hear, there may have been a little bit of blood. The collapse of the old Temple, no less.”
When Bellamy cleared his throat, William added, “the…. Death of your brother.”
“Solahn is mine. Zahem is mine,” Bellamy continued, “and now Chyr is mine. It is my Jewel.”
“Do you think Chyr will obey you?”
“It will obey my wife.”
“And she, doubtless,” William said, “will obey you.”
“The only question, King William,” it was Phineas who was now speaking, “is do you want allies? Sussail will not help you. Armor will not help you. Inglad has disposed of its king, your cousin, Hale and North Hale are gone from you. At the moment you have lost all you thought to hold. Would you get it back?”
William smiled out of this side of his mouth, turning to his brother, Richard, but neither spoke.
“Sir Richard, your soldiers were murdered so King Edmund could be taken into custody.”
“So you would go to war with us?” William said, looking between Bellamy and Phineas, though he was sure Phineas was the true power. “Lend us your soldiers so that I could make a conquest. But why?”
“Because it was believed you would possess Ossar, and now this has been taken from you,”
“You would march on the Young Kingdoms and have me be your general,” William said.
“And, in the end King.”
“But what good is this to King Bellamy?” Richard looked at the King of Solahn.
“Let us say that I am pledged to help,” Bellamy said.
“An emperor in Ossar and one, eventually, in the Royan lands and Solahn.”
“And possibly Armor.” William added. Yes, what would Hermudis say?
“So?” King Bellamy asked, “shall we make common cause?”
“What do you say we discuss this further?”
“Discuss it further, King William,” Phineas said, “but let us not discuss it too long. The first matter to me is where we would begin the war.”
“Oh that is easy,” William shook his head.
“Sussail?” King Bellamy asked. “I know you cousin is important to you—”
“You know nothing of the sort,” King William said, “and I would be glad to see Hermudis Trevanwy humbled. I am thinking of strategy, not pride. We would come east or west, to come at the Young Kingdoms from their heart, and either way we came we would attack one land first.”
“Westrial,” Richard said.
SENACH
The night before, in the town of Gilroy, Teryn had lain beside Cody, watching him breathe in and out, his mouth a little open. He ran his hand over the other boy’s shoulder, down the slope of gentle muscle on his arm. He had not loved him like a boy, and of late, really since before they had left Sunderland, Teryn had stopped thinking of him as such. There were times, on their journey, when Cody had proven to be more clever than he appeared. In the night, Cody turned over and kissed him hungrily. They fooled around with each other, stroking each other to desire and then, as often happened, Cody mounted him and they moved together, Teryn surrendering to the hunger and strength of someone who had not appeared to either. When it was done they lay together, limps bunched together, separating, cuming together again. Cody’s arms were strong about him.
“We reach the princess tomorrow.”
“What is she like?” Teryn wondered, his hand light in Cody’s damp hair.
Cody’s cheek pressed to Teryn, he said, tiredly, “A lot like her mother.”
Senach and Essail had once been one land. In fact, the capital of Senach, Waybury, had been the original capital of Essail, and Senach the center of the old Essailian homeland. The Ayl and the Hale had originally not accepted women to their thrones. A long civil war between the daughter of a king and his cousins had created the two nations, Senach standing by Queen Whatsername and the original house while Essail took on the scions. This was always a note of pride to the smaller kingdom, that it held, to this day, the descendants of the true House of Senach and that their city was, of old, the ancient Senacian stronghold.
Senach was smaller than Zahem, the smallest of the New Kingdoms, but once it had ruled Westrial and when its time of power was gone, the nation had made itself strong with its allegiances, binding itself to Westrial and Sussail, patching over the old disputes with Essail. Even as they crossed the border, Teryn saw men and women who looked like him, ivory skinned and bronze haired, or darker with bronze and golden even brown skin. Long had Senach gone deep into its Royan past and made connections with Armor across the sea as well as the lands of the west. A small kingdom, they knew, must be great in its allegiances. And now, as Eva, pulling her cloak about her against the south wind, Cody and Teryn crested the last hill, they saw, spread out before them, Eleduc, the white-gold palace of the Kings and Queens of Senach, its walls spreading over three great hills and sheltering the city of the same name, the blue sea twinkling in the sunset beyong it.
And said the knight, “It is for this very reason, that I have loved you long, why I have stayed away so long.”
Then said the damosel, “Come to me, and let love be not parting, but love.”
- from The Chanson de Rose
THE SEA OF ARMOR
The barge swam to the Dauman ship, reminding King William of crocodile as it approached. At last, the two faced each other and William motioned for the draw bridge to link the two. It was he who came across the to barge with its flapping red banners and when he crossed, he bowed to man as handsome as a villain standing next to a tall straight, characterless looking man, someone nearly inhuman.
“You are the King Bellamy,” William bowed, and Bellamy bowed in return.
“And you are the mage Phineas.”
Phineas merely blinked.
“We have taken Zahem with not even a drop of blood,” Bellamy said.
“Zahem is small and undesired,” William said, “And from what I hear, there may have been a little bit of blood. The collapse of the old Temple, no less.”
When Bellamy cleared his throat, William added, “the…. Death of your brother.”
“Solahn is mine. Zahem is mine,” Bellamy continued, “and now Chyr is mine. It is my Jewel.”
“Do you think Chyr will obey you?”
“It will obey my wife.”
“And she, doubtless,” William said, “will obey you.”
“The only question, King William,” it was Phineas who was now speaking, “is do you want allies? Sussail will not help you. Armor will not help you. Inglad has disposed of its king, your cousin, Hale and North Hale are gone from you. At the moment you have lost all you thought to hold. Would you get it back?”
William smiled out of this side of his mouth, turning to his brother, Richard, but neither spoke.
“Sir Richard, your soldiers were murdered so King Edmund could be taken into custody.”
“So you would go to war with us?” William said, looking between Bellamy and Phineas, though he was sure Phineas was the true power. “Lend us your soldiers so that I could make a conquest. But why?”
“Because it was believed you would possess Ossar, and now this has been taken from you,”
“You would march on the Young Kingdoms and have me be your general,” William said.
“And, in the end King.”
“But what good is this to King Bellamy?” Richard looked at the King of Solahn.
“Let us say that I am pledged to help,” Bellamy said.
“An emperor in Ossar and one, eventually, in the Royan lands and Solahn.”
“And possibly Armor.” William added. Yes, what would Hermudis say?
“So?” King Bellamy asked, “shall we make common cause?”
“What do you say we discuss this further?”
“Discuss it further, King William,” Phineas said, “but let us not discuss it too long. The first matter to me is where we would begin the war.”
“Oh that is easy,” William shook his head.
“Sussail?” King Bellamy asked. “I know you cousin is important to you—”
“You know nothing of the sort,” King William said, “and I would be glad to see Hermudis Trevanwy humbled. I am thinking of strategy, not pride. We would come east or west, to come at the Young Kingdoms from their heart, and either way we came we would attack one land first.”
“Westrial,” Richard said.
SENACH
The night before, in the town of Gilroy, Teryn had lain beside Cody, watching him breathe in and out, his mouth a little open. He ran his hand over the other boy’s shoulder, down the slope of gentle muscle on his arm. He had not loved him like a boy, and of late, really since before they had left Sunderland, Teryn had stopped thinking of him as such. There were times, on their journey, when Cody had proven to be more clever than he appeared. In the night, Cody turned over and kissed him hungrily. They fooled around with each other, stroking each other to desire and then, as often happened, Cody mounted him and they moved together, Teryn surrendering to the hunger and strength of someone who had not appeared to either. When it was done they lay together, limps bunched together, separating, cuming together again. Cody’s arms were strong about him.
“We reach the princess tomorrow.”
“What is she like?” Teryn wondered, his hand light in Cody’s damp hair.
Cody’s cheek pressed to Teryn, he said, tiredly, “A lot like her mother.”
Senach and Essail had once been one land. In fact, the capital of Senach, Waybury, had been the original capital of Essail, and Senach the center of the old Essailian homeland. The Ayl and the Hale had originally not accepted women to their thrones. A long civil war between the daughter of a king and his cousins had created the two nations, Senach standing by Queen Whatsername and the original house while Essail took on the scions. This was always a note of pride to the smaller kingdom, that it held, to this day, the descendants of the true House of Senach and that their city was, of old, the ancient Senacian stronghold.
Senach was smaller than Zahem, the smallest of the New Kingdoms, but once it had ruled Westrial and when its time of power was gone, the nation had made itself strong with its allegiances, binding itself to Westrial and Sussail, patching over the old disputes with Essail. Even as they crossed the border, Teryn saw men and women who looked like him, ivory skinned and bronze haired, or darker with bronze and golden even brown skin. Long had Senach gone deep into its Royan past and made connections with Armor across the sea as well as the lands of the west. A small kingdom, they knew, must be great in its allegiances. And now, as Eva, pulling her cloak about her against the south wind, Cody and Teryn crested the last hill, they saw, spread out before them, Eleduc, the white-gold palace of the Kings and Queens of Senach, its walls spreading over three great hills and sheltering the city of the same name, the blue sea twinkling in the sunset beyong it.
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
That was some great writing! Always interesting to see different parts of the world of this story in one section. The battle for who leads the kingdom is definitely still going and I am finding it very interesting. I look forward to more soon!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Glad you enjoyed.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Teryn, Cody and Linalla arrive in Senach and are hosted by Queen Bereneice and King Thingeric. Meanwhile, in Ambridge, Edith and Allyn scheme to hold onto power in the absense of King Edmund.
SENACH
“So,” Queen Berenice noted, “your mother has sent for you, and I cannot believe it is for your safety.”
“Wife?” King Gender chided.
“You know it’s true,” she said.
Berenice rose.
“You have traveled long,” she said to Cody and to Teryn and Eva. “Refresh yourselves. Have you eaten?”
“No, your Grace,” Teryn said. “Not since late the morning.”
“Then we will have baths run and send victuals to refresh you and then, perhaps, you will join us for a late evening meal.”
Eva curtseyed prettily, and Cody bowed as did Teryn.
“Yes, your Grace,” Teryn said.
“Morgellyn is my neice,” Bereniece said, “as are here sisters, Imogen and Hilda, though they have taken after their mother, and I don’t know where Morgellyn came from. She is fair like an Aethelyn, but her character, I cannot say anything about it. Perhaps it was the death of my sister, or living with Cedd, but Emmaline would be sorry to see what became of her daughter.”
“Lady,” Teryn said, “I did not know you were sister to the late Queen.”
“Oh, yes,” Berenice said, “it was not safe for Wulfstans. Our father sent us down to the south, really, I believ,e hoping to make allegiance with the southern kingdoms, perhaps to raise up a Wulfstan heir, though it seems like, at the end of the day, Ohean Penannyn did that himself. I came down with my older sister to marry Thingeric. He was kin to the Aethelyn, and so we were doubly bound.”
“Things have been heard,” Teryn said, as he pushed a sautéed mushroom across his plate, “about goings on in Essail The Queen wished to know what was said in other nations.”
“That she murdered her husband?”
Here the Princess Linalla sucked in her breath and, beside her, her cousin Ethan said, “Mother, we don’t know that.”
“Or that she opens her thighs for every man who comes to her?” Berenice went on.
“Wife,” said the King.
“Sir Teryn wishes to know what is said, and I will tell him. Oh, surely some of it must be dismissed. Any woman in power will be maligned, any woman, really, but this is what is said.”
“And is it believed?”
“What is said that is not believed a little?” the Queen asked. “That Queen Isobel is a witch, that I am a harpy who has castrated my husband, that the girl Myrne, who is now Queen rules through her husband and commands lightning and earthquake? Or that Edith Baldwin put herself in power.”
“What of Edith Baldwin?” Linalla asked.
“You need to pay more attention, great-niece,” Bereniece said. “King Edmund is in the keeping of King Osric and it is said that she and her brother put him there. I would not blame her, though.”
“And what of William?” Teryn asked.
“What have you learned in your travels, Sir Wesley?” King Thingeric asked. “William’s ships have gone back for Daumany, to defend his land against Solahn."
“But he thought he would be King,” Teryn said. “He thought he would be King over all the Young Kingdoms.”
“He won’t,,” the young man Ethan spoke.
He was gentle faced with what Teryn judged to be too much hair, but he looked earnest now.
“William will never be King in the south. This is Locress. No matter how much time passes, this is Locress. If there is a King in South he will rule in Ondres, and we who are little and bow to no ruler, would accept him as High King.”
Teryn’s eyes changed. He said, “I have heard of such things. When I was little, down in southern Westrial. I suppose it is spoken of in Sussail.”
“It is known in Sussail,” Berencar said. “In time of trouble there will be a King in Ondres, a Hero, who passes over the earth and under it and pulls his crown from the crystal cave.”
“My Lord,” Teryn said, gently, “I do not mean to sound flippant…”
“But that sounds like foolishness, like a legend for the future.”
“Yes,” Teryn said. “That’s exactly what it sounds like. Do you really think such a… king will come.”
Ethan looked to his parents and to Linalla who seemed to be as nonplussed as Teryn. But the Queen nodded and Ethan said:
“We believe that he already has.”
AMBRIDGE
“Shall we sue for peace with Wulfstan?” the Archbishop asked that morning.
“I honestly do not believe he would oblige,” the Queen answered.
“So what are we to do?” Lord Gilroy demanded, “simply let him languish in prison under Osric? Wait to see what tht false king in the north does?”
“Edmund is gone,” Edith replied. “It is said, but there it is. The same happened with those before him, and now we must look to a new reign.”
“One cannot help but think,” the Lord or Arendall noted, “that this is a matter all too convenient for you, one which hthe Queen is more than philosophically undisturbed by.”
“What are you implying?” Edith murmured from the small wood throne where her husband usually sat.
“We all know your family has fallen out of favor in the last year,” Lord Gilroy pointed out.
“Go on,” Edith encouraged.
“It seems as if what has happened might play into the hands of the Baldwins. It seems as if the new and inspired leadership in Inglad might just come from the House of Baldwin.”
Here there were applause about the table and mocking laughs, but Edith had dealth with men all her life and she said, “Why insinuate when you can simply say what you mean.”
“We all know you intend to place Allyn on the throne.”
“And would many object?” Edith asked. “Is Allyn Baldwin not a leader of men? Even after my father is gone, do not my cousins still have ties to important familes here and in the north?”
“Then Allyn on the throne?” Sedifore Gilchrist exclaimed. “The final coup of the Baldwin family.”
And while they began to complain one to another, a few raising their voices to her, Edith sat low in her seat watching them, watching men like hens and marveling at how they talked of women being hens, women clucking all the time. She waited until they saw her waiting and they heard her laughing.
“Your Grace?” Lord Sedifore said.
Edith was laughing, still, and she was shaking her head.
“My brother will not be King,” she said at last. “Not today, at least. My husband still lives.”
“And as long as he lives you are still Queen.”
“And if he does not live,” Edith continued, “I will be Regent.”
“That, Lady,” Lord Gilroy said, “is not the law.”
“It is very much the law if I am with child. If the next King of Inglad is in my belly.”
While she savored the collective gasps of the room, then and old Lord Barrell mumrued, “But…. That is not possible…” Edith, laughind, asked, “Why?
“Because I am too old? But you have it confused. Edmund was old, thirty when he came to the throne. However it be, I am with child, and my child will be King in Inglad.”
When the door to the chamber flew open and Allyn Baldwin, his black eye, healing, came in with Lord Roderick, Lord Gilroy called, “This is perfect theatre! Now we all must call her Queen.”
But Lord Sidefore said, “Now she is the Queen. She is. That is law.”
Allyn looked from them to Edith, his eyes wide and then Edith said, “Brother, what is it?”
“Osric Wulfstan has the King.”
“Of course he does,” Edith said, “we already know that.”
“Sister,” Allyn said. “Your Grace, a word?”
“What is this?” Lord Malcolm began.
“Be silent,” Edith snapped. “I am Queen.”
And so the Queen lifted her skirts and left the room, Roderick closing the door behind her as she demanded, “What are you going on about?”
“Somehow,” Allyn said, “Osric Wulfstan learned we were hiding Edmund, learned we had pinned it on him.”
Edith’s eyes widened right before they narrowed.
“Osric has Edmund.”
Allyn nodded.
“Well,” she murmured, “let him keep him.”
And then she raised her skirts, and returned to the council room.
SENACH
“So,” Queen Berenice noted, “your mother has sent for you, and I cannot believe it is for your safety.”
“Wife?” King Gender chided.
“You know it’s true,” she said.
Berenice rose.
“You have traveled long,” she said to Cody and to Teryn and Eva. “Refresh yourselves. Have you eaten?”
“No, your Grace,” Teryn said. “Not since late the morning.”
“Then we will have baths run and send victuals to refresh you and then, perhaps, you will join us for a late evening meal.”
Eva curtseyed prettily, and Cody bowed as did Teryn.
“Yes, your Grace,” Teryn said.
“Morgellyn is my neice,” Bereniece said, “as are here sisters, Imogen and Hilda, though they have taken after their mother, and I don’t know where Morgellyn came from. She is fair like an Aethelyn, but her character, I cannot say anything about it. Perhaps it was the death of my sister, or living with Cedd, but Emmaline would be sorry to see what became of her daughter.”
“Lady,” Teryn said, “I did not know you were sister to the late Queen.”
“Oh, yes,” Berenice said, “it was not safe for Wulfstans. Our father sent us down to the south, really, I believ,e hoping to make allegiance with the southern kingdoms, perhaps to raise up a Wulfstan heir, though it seems like, at the end of the day, Ohean Penannyn did that himself. I came down with my older sister to marry Thingeric. He was kin to the Aethelyn, and so we were doubly bound.”
“Things have been heard,” Teryn said, as he pushed a sautéed mushroom across his plate, “about goings on in Essail The Queen wished to know what was said in other nations.”
“That she murdered her husband?”
Here the Princess Linalla sucked in her breath and, beside her, her cousin Ethan said, “Mother, we don’t know that.”
“Or that she opens her thighs for every man who comes to her?” Berenice went on.
“Wife,” said the King.
“Sir Teryn wishes to know what is said, and I will tell him. Oh, surely some of it must be dismissed. Any woman in power will be maligned, any woman, really, but this is what is said.”
“And is it believed?”
“What is said that is not believed a little?” the Queen asked. “That Queen Isobel is a witch, that I am a harpy who has castrated my husband, that the girl Myrne, who is now Queen rules through her husband and commands lightning and earthquake? Or that Edith Baldwin put herself in power.”
“What of Edith Baldwin?” Linalla asked.
“You need to pay more attention, great-niece,” Bereniece said. “King Edmund is in the keeping of King Osric and it is said that she and her brother put him there. I would not blame her, though.”
“And what of William?” Teryn asked.
“What have you learned in your travels, Sir Wesley?” King Thingeric asked. “William’s ships have gone back for Daumany, to defend his land against Solahn."
“But he thought he would be King,” Teryn said. “He thought he would be King over all the Young Kingdoms.”
“He won’t,,” the young man Ethan spoke.
He was gentle faced with what Teryn judged to be too much hair, but he looked earnest now.
“William will never be King in the south. This is Locress. No matter how much time passes, this is Locress. If there is a King in South he will rule in Ondres, and we who are little and bow to no ruler, would accept him as High King.”
Teryn’s eyes changed. He said, “I have heard of such things. When I was little, down in southern Westrial. I suppose it is spoken of in Sussail.”
“It is known in Sussail,” Berencar said. “In time of trouble there will be a King in Ondres, a Hero, who passes over the earth and under it and pulls his crown from the crystal cave.”
“My Lord,” Teryn said, gently, “I do not mean to sound flippant…”
“But that sounds like foolishness, like a legend for the future.”
“Yes,” Teryn said. “That’s exactly what it sounds like. Do you really think such a… king will come.”
Ethan looked to his parents and to Linalla who seemed to be as nonplussed as Teryn. But the Queen nodded and Ethan said:
“We believe that he already has.”
AMBRIDGE
“Shall we sue for peace with Wulfstan?” the Archbishop asked that morning.
“I honestly do not believe he would oblige,” the Queen answered.
“So what are we to do?” Lord Gilroy demanded, “simply let him languish in prison under Osric? Wait to see what tht false king in the north does?”
“Edmund is gone,” Edith replied. “It is said, but there it is. The same happened with those before him, and now we must look to a new reign.”
“One cannot help but think,” the Lord or Arendall noted, “that this is a matter all too convenient for you, one which hthe Queen is more than philosophically undisturbed by.”
“What are you implying?” Edith murmured from the small wood throne where her husband usually sat.
“We all know your family has fallen out of favor in the last year,” Lord Gilroy pointed out.
“Go on,” Edith encouraged.
“It seems as if what has happened might play into the hands of the Baldwins. It seems as if the new and inspired leadership in Inglad might just come from the House of Baldwin.”
Here there were applause about the table and mocking laughs, but Edith had dealth with men all her life and she said, “Why insinuate when you can simply say what you mean.”
“We all know you intend to place Allyn on the throne.”
“And would many object?” Edith asked. “Is Allyn Baldwin not a leader of men? Even after my father is gone, do not my cousins still have ties to important familes here and in the north?”
“Then Allyn on the throne?” Sedifore Gilchrist exclaimed. “The final coup of the Baldwin family.”
And while they began to complain one to another, a few raising their voices to her, Edith sat low in her seat watching them, watching men like hens and marveling at how they talked of women being hens, women clucking all the time. She waited until they saw her waiting and they heard her laughing.
“Your Grace?” Lord Sedifore said.
Edith was laughing, still, and she was shaking her head.
“My brother will not be King,” she said at last. “Not today, at least. My husband still lives.”
“And as long as he lives you are still Queen.”
“And if he does not live,” Edith continued, “I will be Regent.”
“That, Lady,” Lord Gilroy said, “is not the law.”
“It is very much the law if I am with child. If the next King of Inglad is in my belly.”
While she savored the collective gasps of the room, then and old Lord Barrell mumrued, “But…. That is not possible…” Edith, laughind, asked, “Why?
“Because I am too old? But you have it confused. Edmund was old, thirty when he came to the throne. However it be, I am with child, and my child will be King in Inglad.”
When the door to the chamber flew open and Allyn Baldwin, his black eye, healing, came in with Lord Roderick, Lord Gilroy called, “This is perfect theatre! Now we all must call her Queen.”
But Lord Sidefore said, “Now she is the Queen. She is. That is law.”
Allyn looked from them to Edith, his eyes wide and then Edith said, “Brother, what is it?”
“Osric Wulfstan has the King.”
“Of course he does,” Edith said, “we already know that.”
“Sister,” Allyn said. “Your Grace, a word?”
“What is this?” Lord Malcolm began.
“Be silent,” Edith snapped. “I am Queen.”
And so the Queen lifted her skirts and left the room, Roderick closing the door behind her as she demanded, “What are you going on about?”
“Somehow,” Allyn said, “Osric Wulfstan learned we were hiding Edmund, learned we had pinned it on him.”
Edith’s eyes widened right before they narrowed.
“Osric has Edmund.”
Allyn nodded.
“Well,” she murmured, “let him keep him.”
And then she raised her skirts, and returned to the council room.
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
That was a great portion! Lots of people want to be king or queen, I wonder who will be on the throne in the end? I will have to wait and see. Excellent writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
You do seem to enjoy the story, even if you may not entirely know what's going on. And so I thank you for reading.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
UP NORTH IN HALE, OSRIC DEALS WITH HIS GREAT UNCLE EDMUND
HALE
They rode out of the city and into the southern valley of Queshac, Prince Ethan ahead of them all, Princess Linalla beside him and Teryn riding with Cody.
.“Do you know what Queshac means?”
Because no one else answered, it was Teryn who said, “No, Lord.”
“Neither do I,” Ethan said. “But I know it isn’t Royan. Just as those are not.”
He had gestured to the great stone heads, elongated, thick lipped, that lined the hills.
“And no one knows what the Heads are for. They belong to thr Tribes or even the Tribes that were here before the Tribes.”
They rode around the great town with houses of golden limestone, hugging the harbor and Ethan continued, “People, when they think of the Tribes, think of a few people in tents or huts living in the south of Westrial. That isn’t true. That cit, Queshac, the cities around are Tribal cities. Some tribes chose to only live in villages and some still maintain the tents, but that is only some. The Tribes were here before the Royan and welcomed the Royan and some of them are almost indistinguishable from them. They revere the women of the Rootless Isle and they live all over Senach and all through Westrial, especially the south. I can see the Tribes in the tilt of your eyes, Teryn Wesley.”
Teryn nodded, but through that a boy who had seemed pleasant enough was now beginning to sound strange.
“Are you coming to a point?” Princess Linalla asked, and Teryn was glad for this.
“Yes,” Ethan said. “I ramble sometimes. Teryn, Cody, what do you know of Ifandell Modet?”
“She was a witch,” Cody said.
“Well, yes,” Ethan agreed, reluctantly. “That’s one way of putting it. She was a great teacher, schooled on the Rootless Isle. She brought together the teachings of the Isle and the Teachings of the Ard. Many people here, especially of the Tribes, are her disciples.Queen Isobel is her great-great granddaughter, the late Queen Ermengild was her granddaughter. That is peripheral. My family are disciples of Modet.”
“Didn’t Modet call this land Locress?”
“Yes,” Ethan said. “She revived the ancient prophecies. Certainly not every disciple of Modet follows that, but part of what she believed was that the old prophecies would be fulfilled, that this was still the land of the Royan and of the Tribes. She said that one day the descendant of Avred Oss would return, and he would sit at Ondres, and then there would be a king over all Locress and a king in the north.”
“There has been a King in the North,” Linalla said. “that is the problem. We keep getting a new king in the north who wants to drag us into battle.”
“Yes,” Ethan said, “but it is believed that in time we ourselves will be united, and then no kings in the north or anywhere shall trouble us. We will cease to be little kingdoms, little lands descended from different Ayl barbarians, and again be Locress.”
“Prince,” Wesley said, “I respect your beliefs, if these are your beliefs, but I would rather look at what I can actually do then wait for a prophecy to make things better.”
“I understand,” Ethan said.
“But you still believe.”
“I do,” the young man said, “and when the son of Avred Oss comes, then I will offer him my sword.”
“You act as if he is already in this world and not a prophecy.”
“It is said that he will be born of the Rootless Isle and of an Ayl House, blood old and blood new to unite the Young Kingdoms with the Old, that he will be scorned by his brethren and fo into the West, only to descend below the earth, that he shall possess a singing sword and I believe he is in this world, just as my whole family does.”
Linalla looked at her cousin coldly, and then said to Teryn Wesley:
“They all believe it is my uncle Anson.”
“Let me get a good look at you again?” Edmund demanded, but when Cynric said, “Ignore him,” Hilary said, “I fully intend to.”
Their horses were crunching through the wood on their way back to Herreboro, for Osric had decided that he wished to have Edmund where he could see him.
“You see,” Edmund continued, “I really don’t remember fucking you. Poor girl, you don’t understand how many there were before you and, in truth, after you. Maybe you were just upset that you didn’t impress me more—”
Sudden;y Cynric leapt from his horse pulling Edmund half off his horse.
“We’ve had enough of you, you raping bastard.”
“Are you really going to let him do this?” Edmund drawled toward Osric, “let some highland hayseed with Dayne on his breath molest your beloved uncle?”
“Talk all you wish,” King Osric turned to him. “You shall soon be talking to walls again in the deepest dungeons of Herreboro.”
“That’s why I had to get rid of your grandfather,” Edmund said, “and the girl’s. Neither of my brother’s had the killer Wulfstan instinct. After all, Wulfstan is Wolf. Isn’t that what they call you? And yet what I see before me is a boy who doesn’t really have the heart to—”
Dispassionately, Wolf has taken out his sword and, reversing it, rammed his pummel twice, and then again into Edmund’s head.
“That’ll shut him up for a while,” Osric noted as he look at the unconscious man blood oozing from the middle of his head.
“What’ll we do with this bastard?” Cynric wondered.
When Edmund woke, head throbbing, the first thing he heard was, “What do we do with this bastard?”
Pain made everything before his eyes swim, and as he blinked, he saw sitting before him, smiling savagely, Osric Wulfstan.
“It is the question I have to ask myself,” he said. “What do I do with this bastard. Killer, murderer, rapist that you are. Uh uh… don’t talk. Don’t move,” Osric said from the other side of the dungeon. “It will only chaff your wrists on your chains.
“William is gone, gone to Daumany, and not to return. Yes, your wife saw to that with the help of another. Your wife and her brother, they do not want you. You have no children, not legitimate to want you. You are not, therefore, even worth trading. All of Hale and North Hale is mine. The nobles of Inglad, who do nto love the Baldwins, will probably be all too glad to turn over their kingdom to Myrne and I as well.”
Edmund summoned all of his strength and leaned forward to spit, but the spit landed before Osric’s heel.
“Is that the sum of your eloquence?” Osric asked. “Not even a blessing, uncle, as we take your place.”
“Damn you.”
“No,” Osric said. He stood, and he was a tall, well built, handsome man. How had Edmund not known him, this lord with the sword at his side, undeniably a king.
“Say what you will,” Osric told him. “Say what you can, for you will never leave this dungeon alive, that is sure.”
Edmund tried to laugh, but instead, he coughed. He sat up and said, “Do you know what you father did? When I killed him? He cried. He cried as he died. He cried for me to let him live. Uncle!” Edmund’s voice rang from the walls. “Let me live! I don’t want to die!”
“He did not,” Osric said, with no emotion. “You are a liar. I do not doubt he may have cried to save my mother and me, which makes him a father. But you are a liar as you have ever been. Still,” Osric took Edmund’s hand with a surprising firmness, and extended his middle finger, “I will make sure that before you die, you will cry.”
And so saying he broke Edmund’s middle finger and the old king screamed.
“See,” Osric said, “you are crying already.”
MORE NEXT WEEK
HALE
They rode out of the city and into the southern valley of Queshac, Prince Ethan ahead of them all, Princess Linalla beside him and Teryn riding with Cody.
.“Do you know what Queshac means?”
Because no one else answered, it was Teryn who said, “No, Lord.”
“Neither do I,” Ethan said. “But I know it isn’t Royan. Just as those are not.”
He had gestured to the great stone heads, elongated, thick lipped, that lined the hills.
“And no one knows what the Heads are for. They belong to thr Tribes or even the Tribes that were here before the Tribes.”
They rode around the great town with houses of golden limestone, hugging the harbor and Ethan continued, “People, when they think of the Tribes, think of a few people in tents or huts living in the south of Westrial. That isn’t true. That cit, Queshac, the cities around are Tribal cities. Some tribes chose to only live in villages and some still maintain the tents, but that is only some. The Tribes were here before the Royan and welcomed the Royan and some of them are almost indistinguishable from them. They revere the women of the Rootless Isle and they live all over Senach and all through Westrial, especially the south. I can see the Tribes in the tilt of your eyes, Teryn Wesley.”
Teryn nodded, but through that a boy who had seemed pleasant enough was now beginning to sound strange.
“Are you coming to a point?” Princess Linalla asked, and Teryn was glad for this.
“Yes,” Ethan said. “I ramble sometimes. Teryn, Cody, what do you know of Ifandell Modet?”
“She was a witch,” Cody said.
“Well, yes,” Ethan agreed, reluctantly. “That’s one way of putting it. She was a great teacher, schooled on the Rootless Isle. She brought together the teachings of the Isle and the Teachings of the Ard. Many people here, especially of the Tribes, are her disciples.Queen Isobel is her great-great granddaughter, the late Queen Ermengild was her granddaughter. That is peripheral. My family are disciples of Modet.”
“Didn’t Modet call this land Locress?”
“Yes,” Ethan said. “She revived the ancient prophecies. Certainly not every disciple of Modet follows that, but part of what she believed was that the old prophecies would be fulfilled, that this was still the land of the Royan and of the Tribes. She said that one day the descendant of Avred Oss would return, and he would sit at Ondres, and then there would be a king over all Locress and a king in the north.”
“There has been a King in the North,” Linalla said. “that is the problem. We keep getting a new king in the north who wants to drag us into battle.”
“Yes,” Ethan said, “but it is believed that in time we ourselves will be united, and then no kings in the north or anywhere shall trouble us. We will cease to be little kingdoms, little lands descended from different Ayl barbarians, and again be Locress.”
“Prince,” Wesley said, “I respect your beliefs, if these are your beliefs, but I would rather look at what I can actually do then wait for a prophecy to make things better.”
“I understand,” Ethan said.
“But you still believe.”
“I do,” the young man said, “and when the son of Avred Oss comes, then I will offer him my sword.”
“You act as if he is already in this world and not a prophecy.”
“It is said that he will be born of the Rootless Isle and of an Ayl House, blood old and blood new to unite the Young Kingdoms with the Old, that he will be scorned by his brethren and fo into the West, only to descend below the earth, that he shall possess a singing sword and I believe he is in this world, just as my whole family does.”
Linalla looked at her cousin coldly, and then said to Teryn Wesley:
“They all believe it is my uncle Anson.”
“Let me get a good look at you again?” Edmund demanded, but when Cynric said, “Ignore him,” Hilary said, “I fully intend to.”
Their horses were crunching through the wood on their way back to Herreboro, for Osric had decided that he wished to have Edmund where he could see him.
“You see,” Edmund continued, “I really don’t remember fucking you. Poor girl, you don’t understand how many there were before you and, in truth, after you. Maybe you were just upset that you didn’t impress me more—”
Sudden;y Cynric leapt from his horse pulling Edmund half off his horse.
“We’ve had enough of you, you raping bastard.”
“Are you really going to let him do this?” Edmund drawled toward Osric, “let some highland hayseed with Dayne on his breath molest your beloved uncle?”
“Talk all you wish,” King Osric turned to him. “You shall soon be talking to walls again in the deepest dungeons of Herreboro.”
“That’s why I had to get rid of your grandfather,” Edmund said, “and the girl’s. Neither of my brother’s had the killer Wulfstan instinct. After all, Wulfstan is Wolf. Isn’t that what they call you? And yet what I see before me is a boy who doesn’t really have the heart to—”
Dispassionately, Wolf has taken out his sword and, reversing it, rammed his pummel twice, and then again into Edmund’s head.
“That’ll shut him up for a while,” Osric noted as he look at the unconscious man blood oozing from the middle of his head.
“What’ll we do with this bastard?” Cynric wondered.
When Edmund woke, head throbbing, the first thing he heard was, “What do we do with this bastard?”
Pain made everything before his eyes swim, and as he blinked, he saw sitting before him, smiling savagely, Osric Wulfstan.
“It is the question I have to ask myself,” he said. “What do I do with this bastard. Killer, murderer, rapist that you are. Uh uh… don’t talk. Don’t move,” Osric said from the other side of the dungeon. “It will only chaff your wrists on your chains.
“William is gone, gone to Daumany, and not to return. Yes, your wife saw to that with the help of another. Your wife and her brother, they do not want you. You have no children, not legitimate to want you. You are not, therefore, even worth trading. All of Hale and North Hale is mine. The nobles of Inglad, who do nto love the Baldwins, will probably be all too glad to turn over their kingdom to Myrne and I as well.”
Edmund summoned all of his strength and leaned forward to spit, but the spit landed before Osric’s heel.
“Is that the sum of your eloquence?” Osric asked. “Not even a blessing, uncle, as we take your place.”
“Damn you.”
“No,” Osric said. He stood, and he was a tall, well built, handsome man. How had Edmund not known him, this lord with the sword at his side, undeniably a king.
“Say what you will,” Osric told him. “Say what you can, for you will never leave this dungeon alive, that is sure.”
Edmund tried to laugh, but instead, he coughed. He sat up and said, “Do you know what you father did? When I killed him? He cried. He cried as he died. He cried for me to let him live. Uncle!” Edmund’s voice rang from the walls. “Let me live! I don’t want to die!”
“He did not,” Osric said, with no emotion. “You are a liar. I do not doubt he may have cried to save my mother and me, which makes him a father. But you are a liar as you have ever been. Still,” Osric took Edmund’s hand with a surprising firmness, and extended his middle finger, “I will make sure that before you die, you will cry.”
And so saying he broke Edmund’s middle finger and the old king screamed.
“See,” Osric said, “you are crying already.”
MORE NEXT WEEK
CharmedFan28
JUB Addict
Wow that Edmund is really a horrible guy and it sounds like he is getting what he deserves. I may not understand everything that goes on in this story but yes I enjoy it! Great writing and I look forward to more next week!
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
I feel like, one day, when the story is all assembled and told together, and I haven't changed names of characters, then maybe the story will make more sense, which has been my worry. Edmung is pretty awful, but he's in Wolf's hands now. So we will see what happens. I can tell you one thing: he'll get what he deserves.
ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
FOR THE SAKE OF HIS SOUL, OSRIC REFUSES TO SEE KING EDMUND AGAIN, BUT EDMUND'S PETTINESS AND EVIL GO ONE STEP TOO FAR WHEN HILARY AND CENRIC CONTRONT HIM.
“I cannot go back there,” Osric said. “I broke the man’s finger. Hating him, standing in his presence, I shall be like him. If I must be King then fine, but I do not want to stop being Wolf,” he said to Myrne. “I want to be the person you met on your way to Kingsboro. The boy who told jokes and laughed.”
“You were never that boy,” Myrne said. “Or, at least, you were never not this. We were always cousins who fathers had been killed by that man.”
“You’ve never met him. Not since he’s been here.”
“And I never shall. For the same reasons as you. But someone will have the keeping of him.”
“Who?”
“Does it matter?”
“It didn’t,” Wolf said to her, “until you asked in that way.”
“Cynric.”
“He’ll kill him.”
“Someone will kill him, Wolf. He cannot leave here alive, and he certainly cannot stay.”
“I do remember you,” Edmund said. “You were the headstrong hayseed who almost throttled me today.”
“Here is your food,” Cynric said, placing the bowl down.
“Do you love the girl, Sir Cynric? After all, I’ve heard that you have a wife, some half Dayne slut. The Daynes who displaced my family and sat on my throne for years, whom you make so much of in the north. Can she even speak our tongue? No matter,”
Edmund pushed the gruel away with his toe.
“I won’t eat this slop. Ah, but to return to you, you love that servant girl.”
“Service is no crime.”
“She is low born.”
“That is in Inglad thing. Perhaps once your family was of Hale, but you are a Dauman.”
“As was my mother, the late Queen who wed a barbarian and had his children and saw them all killed—by me—for her troubles. But back to you. See, I told a lie. A small lie. Well, not so small, not to her.
“I do remember. My memory never fails. I had just come home from my brother William’s coronation, and I called for my woman, but she was not there and so they sent me your slut.”
“We’re done here.”
“She was so unskilled. So… poor, limp of mouth as I made her suck my cock. I mean, I really shoved it down her throat, the way you’d like to. But she was making me so enraged I just turned around and fucked her.”
Cynric seized Edmund’s throat, and the older man was couching and laughing.
“Oh, she screamed,” Edmund screamed. “She screamed while I fucked her. She screamed while she bled, but a bleeding cunt is just so….slick. In the end it only made me harder. Still, the poor bitch had to limp away and that was—”
And now Cynric was on the floor with a knee in his chest and Edmund’s dagger at his throat.
“It was a real shame,” Edmund continued, “like this moment, when a young boy is about to lose his life,” Edmund cut Cynric’s face quickly, “all for the love of a slut.
“By the time they find you I’ll be long gone. You forget, whatever I am I survived my mother and her stepfather, all of Dayne and the enemies of my house besides. Men fear me because I was and am the conqueror, and you stand here a nothing and a boy, treating me like a naughty old man. Well, now you learn,” Edmund said, “and it is the last thing you will lear—“
But his speech ended when the rock hit him in the head and he lost the dagger. Cynric skipped away, but Hilary entered the dungeon.
“Why do villains always make speeches?” she wondered.
Edmund, head throbbing, finger broken, blinked up at her, but before he could say a word, Hilary, no villain, simply took up his dagger and drove it into his throat. As blood spurted out, she pulled it expertly across his neck, like all the pigs she had killed in the slaughter yards at Ambridge, and moved away as her dress was showered in blood.
Cynric lay on the ground looking up at her and she said, as the last spurts of blood shot up from the dead Edmund’s throat, “You should have known I would never let you come here alone with him.”
She looked on the body and said, “Since the day your men came for Hilda, I swore I would kill you. Now I avenged myself, The Abbess who helped me and saved the love of my life. There is nothing else to do.”
In the hall that night, King Osric sat sober faced his hands planted on the arms of his wooden thrown.
“No one is angry at her,” Osric said. “Someone was going to kill him, and it was fair that it be Hillary.”
Eryk Waverly nodded. Myrne did not speak.
Now King Osric said, “But any plans of peace with Inglad are gone now. They were gone the moment Allyn Baldwin abducted his brother in law so that he could keep his family in power. We were only stalling.”
“Send the head to the archbishop,” Queen Myrne spoke now. “Send it to the cathedral. Tell them all it is from us. There is no time to lose.”
“We must send our armies into Inglad in the morning,” King Osric said. “We cannot stop until we have seized Ambridge.”
MORE TOMORROW
“I cannot go back there,” Osric said. “I broke the man’s finger. Hating him, standing in his presence, I shall be like him. If I must be King then fine, but I do not want to stop being Wolf,” he said to Myrne. “I want to be the person you met on your way to Kingsboro. The boy who told jokes and laughed.”
“You were never that boy,” Myrne said. “Or, at least, you were never not this. We were always cousins who fathers had been killed by that man.”
“You’ve never met him. Not since he’s been here.”
“And I never shall. For the same reasons as you. But someone will have the keeping of him.”
“Who?”
“Does it matter?”
“It didn’t,” Wolf said to her, “until you asked in that way.”
“Cynric.”
“He’ll kill him.”
“Someone will kill him, Wolf. He cannot leave here alive, and he certainly cannot stay.”
“I do remember you,” Edmund said. “You were the headstrong hayseed who almost throttled me today.”
“Here is your food,” Cynric said, placing the bowl down.
“Do you love the girl, Sir Cynric? After all, I’ve heard that you have a wife, some half Dayne slut. The Daynes who displaced my family and sat on my throne for years, whom you make so much of in the north. Can she even speak our tongue? No matter,”
Edmund pushed the gruel away with his toe.
“I won’t eat this slop. Ah, but to return to you, you love that servant girl.”
“Service is no crime.”
“She is low born.”
“That is in Inglad thing. Perhaps once your family was of Hale, but you are a Dauman.”
“As was my mother, the late Queen who wed a barbarian and had his children and saw them all killed—by me—for her troubles. But back to you. See, I told a lie. A small lie. Well, not so small, not to her.
“I do remember. My memory never fails. I had just come home from my brother William’s coronation, and I called for my woman, but she was not there and so they sent me your slut.”
“We’re done here.”
“She was so unskilled. So… poor, limp of mouth as I made her suck my cock. I mean, I really shoved it down her throat, the way you’d like to. But she was making me so enraged I just turned around and fucked her.”
Cynric seized Edmund’s throat, and the older man was couching and laughing.
“Oh, she screamed,” Edmund screamed. “She screamed while I fucked her. She screamed while she bled, but a bleeding cunt is just so….slick. In the end it only made me harder. Still, the poor bitch had to limp away and that was—”
And now Cynric was on the floor with a knee in his chest and Edmund’s dagger at his throat.
“It was a real shame,” Edmund continued, “like this moment, when a young boy is about to lose his life,” Edmund cut Cynric’s face quickly, “all for the love of a slut.
“By the time they find you I’ll be long gone. You forget, whatever I am I survived my mother and her stepfather, all of Dayne and the enemies of my house besides. Men fear me because I was and am the conqueror, and you stand here a nothing and a boy, treating me like a naughty old man. Well, now you learn,” Edmund said, “and it is the last thing you will lear—“
But his speech ended when the rock hit him in the head and he lost the dagger. Cynric skipped away, but Hilary entered the dungeon.
“Why do villains always make speeches?” she wondered.
Edmund, head throbbing, finger broken, blinked up at her, but before he could say a word, Hilary, no villain, simply took up his dagger and drove it into his throat. As blood spurted out, she pulled it expertly across his neck, like all the pigs she had killed in the slaughter yards at Ambridge, and moved away as her dress was showered in blood.
Cynric lay on the ground looking up at her and she said, as the last spurts of blood shot up from the dead Edmund’s throat, “You should have known I would never let you come here alone with him.”
She looked on the body and said, “Since the day your men came for Hilda, I swore I would kill you. Now I avenged myself, The Abbess who helped me and saved the love of my life. There is nothing else to do.”
In the hall that night, King Osric sat sober faced his hands planted on the arms of his wooden thrown.
“No one is angry at her,” Osric said. “Someone was going to kill him, and it was fair that it be Hillary.”
Eryk Waverly nodded. Myrne did not speak.
Now King Osric said, “But any plans of peace with Inglad are gone now. They were gone the moment Allyn Baldwin abducted his brother in law so that he could keep his family in power. We were only stalling.”
“Send the head to the archbishop,” Queen Myrne spoke now. “Send it to the cathedral. Tell them all it is from us. There is no time to lose.”
“We must send our armies into Inglad in the morning,” King Osric said. “We cannot stop until we have seized Ambridge.”
MORE TOMORROW
