Next, both were outfitted with swords. A handsome broadsword was strapped onto Keelan, and Silvia now wore a light, but wickedly sharp sword on her left side.
The others dressed in clothes that were plainer so as not to take attention away from the future King and Queen. When they were all dressed and ready to ride to the city, Silvia used her necklace to inquire how things were faring at the palace.
Quentin had been following Gregorich, who had risen from his bed around sunrise. He was dressed and combed exquisitely and was in a fairly good mood…or had been. According to Quentin, Gregorich had trekked down to the dungeons to see if Silvia had changed her mind about marrying him. But George and Stefan had informed him that she was no longer there and that they themselves would not let him in to send the prisoners off to war because of new orders. The King demanded to know who had given these orders and stood dumbfounded at the answer: The Dead Queen That Has Risen. He had walked away without another word and had ordered all of his Guards to prepare for a gathering of the city. As the Guards went to send word to the citizens that a meeting was to be held (by way of tolling the Trillion Bell in the Town Common), a make-shift gallows was carted out of the palace, surrounded by many with sharp swords. Gregorich had gone to his study in a very ill mood and had set about to drawing his horrific, nightmarish dragons with renewed fervor.
Frero’s story was much less exciting. He had talked with Sir Grant and Prince Dalton and said they were prepared for anything and everything. They would be standing next to the King at the city meeting and swore to kill the false king at her whim. He said that Hans and Maura were ready as well.
At last, it was time for everyone to leave. Five horses were saddled at the cottage, but two of the saddles were magically touched up to appear adorned with gorgeous jewels and gold. Then off they went, for the gathering of the city would begin in only an hour, if the distant bell they were hearing was correct.
Gregorich was extremely nervous and a little bit afraid. He knew she was the Dead Queen George had spoken of. Now how would he find her and extinguish the threat of her challenging him for the throne? He could only hope she showed up at the meeting of the city so that he could resolve the matter once and for all. It still angered him that the Captain of the Royal Guard had heeded to her words, and not his own. Perhaps it would be wise to make an example of those who ignored the King and his words. They had served him well for years, so he was wont to give them another chance. However he couldn’t help but think about who would be the replacement for George as the Captain of the Guard should George be ‘displaced’. He doubted they would be long in following ‘Lady Serena’ to the gallows.
He sighed shakily. By the Dark Moon of Eeirch, what if she really was Madeline’s daughter that was said to have been stillborn? He knew the facial resemblance was uncanny, but did that mean they were mother and daughter? Not necessarily, he reasoned. It could all very well be a coincidence. However, he would stake his life that Madeline and Zacharias were her blood parents. Everything fit too perfectly. And did it really matter? He wanted her badly: her place on his throne, his ring on her delicate finger, her complicated, yet simple conversations. Of course, who could forget her beautiful body? He could nearly see her exotic body lying on his bed, waiting for his ravishment…He shuddered violently at the thought of her unclothed. Desperately, he tried to think of ways to bribe her into marriage while he drew monstrous beasts on his parchment. He could offer exquisite wealth and privilege, but what else? He was a difficult man with a bloodthirsty father and had problems controlling his anger. Maybe he could change…It was a rhetorical thought, for he was a stubborn fool.
And what of this secret engagement of hers? Who was the man and would she be willing to give herself up to spare him?
These things aroused his anger once more, and he applied more pressure on his sketching coal. He would much rather kill her than see her with anyone else, and if that’s what it came down to, he would do it…no matter who opposed him.
Thousands were already gathered in the huge plaza in the middle of the city, all trying to get a better vantage point, by the time Silvia and the others slipped into the crowd, long cloaks covering their attire and their faces. The multitude of Darkanians was amazing and Silvia felt butterflies fluttering about in her stomach as she looked at her people. The colors of their clothes consisted mainly of bright greens and blues, with splashes of red, yellow, and purple in the richer crowds. Browns were worn mainly in the shopkeepers’ attire, or on the hunters who happened to be in the city for trading. The lengths of their dresses on the women and the styles of shirts on the men made it easy to spot travelers. Women who wore shorter dresses which only came down to their shins were from the countries far to the south east, and men with almost no sleeves and necks on their shirts came from the west. Some citizens had caravans, although Silvia only saw a few in attendance. Some of the men wore hats that were flat in the front, with a point at the back, and others wore funny round ones. A few women wore hats with flowers or small jewels, small veils covering their face only down to their eyes. But most people were commoners and dressed as such. Their clothes were a little plainer, with less work from the tailor and had the simpler colors of brown and green, though still in a variety of shades.
But all eyes were in the same place: the makeshift gallows sitting near the Trillion Bell. The gallows were on a raised stage surrounded by a dozen Guards, one of which was using a large sharpening stone on his sword. Murmurs abounded about who would be on that stage. Who had angered His Majesty this time? Silvia swallowed dryly. Did he really mean to kill her today? Would it all come down to her taking one last, painful breath in front of the city that was supposed to be hers in the first place? Would she die before the Darkanians knew who she really was? She vowed to try to make them understand, even if it was before her eyes closed, to open no more.
The people in the throng began to notice her and her companions. Silvia was atop Rituel, Keelan’s small form atop of Windfall (even though it was rather difficult for him to ride as a fox on top of a saddle), Dessica on Taman, and Geremy and Zander on two of Zander’s gray-spotted mares. The others rode behind Silvia and Keelan’s horses, making it obvious who bore the rank in the small group. A few stared at them in wonder, whispering and pointing with wide eyes. Who was this wondrous woman riding a marvelous black stallion? And why did her pet (for it just had to be a pet) fox have its own horse? Why were they here at the gathering of the city on horseback? Did they bear some news for the King? The smarter ones already had her pegged as the now famous ‘Lady Serena’.
Silvia knew the sight of them demanded some sort of quiet respect, but hoped that no one asked them any questions before the time was right to make their move. She did not dare to glance back at her servants, for she did not want to show weakness or mistrust, but she could almost bet that Zander was fingering the large bone horn that was roped about his neck. The gods only knew what great beast it came from, for it was a reddish hue and had strange bumps all over it that sprouted tiny gems.
Horns and trumpets suddenly sounded loudly from every corner of the giant plaza, blaring notes that were a little bit off key. The King’s raven-endowed banner went up all over the Town Common and a large procession began to make its way towards the gallows. Silvia had an excellent, albeit far away view of the Royal Guards leading the King and a few others of importance that she had yet to see. Dalton and Grant were near the gallows also, facing the large crowd that had gathered. As Gregorich made his way up the wooden steps of the long gallows, his knee-high boots clopped loudly enough for her to hear. A gentle breeze ruffled his blond hair and his cheeks were flushed from who knew what. And the small, but masculine crown upon his hair shone brightly. But oh, how handsome he was in his confidence! How lordly! And how the people loved him and how they cheered him! Perhaps the ones that weren’t cheering were the ones heeding the bad rumors, watching His Highness like sheep watching a wolf making its way through the herd. A ball of disgust f
ormed in her stomach as she glared at the cowardly king. She wanted revenge so badly she could taste it. Gregorich waited for all of his Guards to get into place, and then turned from left to right slowly, looking at the crowd. He did not seem to see Silvia as he motioned for silence.
“I have news for you, my wonderful people,” he said in a normal tone, though his voice was magically amplified for all to hear. “I have chosen a bride to become your queen!” The roar of the citizens was deafening and it went on and on until he called for silence once again. “Unfortunately, she seems to have disappeared on me, for I cannot find her.” A chorus of boos erupted.
Silvia heard one man near her boot tell the woman beside him, “Heard he had her locked away for somethin’ or another.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised,” the woman replied. “He’s always been a bit strange with the women.”
They fell quiet as the King waved his hand. “Do not be so disappointed!” he said jovially. “I have brought her servants, who have for some reason or another stayed behind, to inform me of her whereabouts so that I may woo her properly.” He made a graceful gesture with his arm and several Guards led Hans, Frero, and Maura onto the gallows.
Silvia became alarmed, and she could see Prince Dalton and Sir Grant visibly tense up. Why were they here? This was not a part of her plans! They had only stayed behind to make it look as though they knew nothing of her escape, not to become pawns in a game of cat and mouse!
“What’s he goin’ to do—hang her servants if they don’t know where she is?” said the man beside her.
“Looks that way, does it not?” said the woman. “They don’t look none too happy about bein’ up there, do they?”
The crowds murmuring died down to a thoughtful silence. “Where has your mistress gone and why did she leave?” Hapshamin asked her servants loudly.
Hans looked as if he were about to say something with a sharp tongue, but before he could Maura stepped forward, surprising the others. The short, plump woman gathered all of her courage and yelled at the King so that everyone could hear her. “You should know, my Lord,” she said vehemently. “After all, you yourself threw her into the dungeons and threatened her with death if she did not marry you! She escaped and I cannot say that I blame her!” She did not need an amplified voice to make herself heard when she was in a temper.
Astonished gasps ran through the crowd.
“And all of this you said to her after she informed you she was engaged to a man already!” Maura continued, now yelling angrily. “What kind of a man are you? More like a monster, I should say!”
Gregorich was taken aback by Maura’s tone, and by the people of his city who were now starting to surge forward, shouting angry remarks.
Silvia began to move forward also, but Zander rode up beside her and motioned her to wait a bit longer.
“Perhaps I should stop talking to you and talk to the Commander of my Royal Guard,” the King said, turning to look at George. George and Stefan were standing near the end of the gallows, eyes glued to their false king. Silvia noted that they were being watched carefully by the other Guards. In fact, she now noticed that they were flanked from behind as if they were being held prisoner as well. “The woman I want to marry is being accused of murders she says she did not commit. Naturally, I had to place her in a holding cell until her innocence was proven. However, George and Stefan here decided they did not care about upholding the laws and let her go free. Now I cannot find her to prove her innocence and marry her. Tell me, my good citizens: Should I have them arrested for breaking laws they are sworn to uphold? ‘Tis a form of treason, you know.”
“You speak of treason?” George said darkly. “I shall tell you about a great treason to your own people! Do you want them to know whom you were going to send off to war against their will? All the men in the dungeons, and I’ve heard you were going to send the homeless as well—even the children!”
“I would never do such a thing!” Gregorich Hapshamin yelled. “How dare you accuse your own King of such treachery? You shall have your place in the gallows before this day is over.”
“He accuses you with good reason, my Lord,” Prince Dalton said, stepping up beside Maura. His hand clasped his sword with promise.
“Good reason? And what, pray tell, is the ‘good reason’?” Hapshamin demanded, obviously a little shocked by the Prince’s words. Other Guards drew their swords and watched the prince warily.
“The reason is that you have been lying to your city for a long, long time now, and I think everyone is tired of it.”
The King was silent in his fury. Surely the Prince would not dare…
“Yes, that is right! Shut your mouth, for every time you open it malicious lies spill forth!” Prince Dalton yelled. Then he turned to the massive assembly, listening intently. “Behold the King of Liars! The King of Treason! He has entered Darkania into a war—the Lordalen War—and has placed you into the hands of your very enemy willingly. Yes, the truth unfolds. Your King is on the side of Lord Rohedon!”
Chapter Eighteen—The Unknown Enemy
If the crowd had been angry before, they were in a terrible rage now. It was all the Guards could do to hold the people back from the gallows, and even they were not sure they wanted to protect the man who was their king anymore.
Silvia turned to Zander. He nodded. “It is time.”
“Sound the horn,” she told him. “Make it loud.”
Zander slid the horn from his neck and just before he put it to his lips whispered, “Fenoi lu cas.” He gathered a great breath and blew. The note that sounded was high and incredibly loud; so loud was it, in fact, that the people on foot around them backed as far away as they could. The Darkanians fell silent immediately and all turned to stare. Zander threw off his cloak and urged his horse forward at a slow trot. Silvia cast off her cloak as well and began to follow, Keelan’s horse at her side and Dessica and Geremy behind them.
Sitting straight as the shaft of an arrow, her glorious green dress draped all about her and over the rump of the horse, and the studded leather scabbards of her sword and dagger, she dazzled the citizens. They beheld her beauty, her jewels, her grace and composure, and her fierce delicateness. They could see the pride on her face and feel the heat of her rage. They did not talk; nay, they dared not even whisper, so grand she was. Who was this splendid woman in all her fineness? Many believed from then on that she was some unknown goddess.
They held their breath as she reached the stage, wanting to hear the voice that belonged to such a creature.
Hapshamin could not stop staring at her and did not seem to notice that his mouth was hanging open as if to catch bugs. When she was almost to the stage she stopped her stallion, and it was then he stuttered, “Milady,” and gave her a short bow.
Silvia sat perfectly still without saying a word, merely glaring at him.
But Gregorich, always playing the fool, took this silence as a sort of surrender to him. “Behold with your eyes and mind my bride-to-be!” he declared.
No one knew whether to cheer or boo; men and women only looked at each other in puzzlement.
Finally, and to the pleasure of all those around her, Silvia spoke, her voice also amplified so that everyone could hear. “Your bride to be? I think not, so do not say it.”
Gregorich’s face immediately turned the color of a radish. “And why not, Lady Silvia? Why do you reject me? How can I know for sure that such a beautiful woman is really taken by another man when you seem to be nothing but a traveler no one has ever heard of?”
“You should not question me if I say it is so.”
“But you must understand my point of view, my dear,” the King said. “Tell me the real reason why you will not have me as your husband?”
She uttered a short laugh at his nerve. “Why, Gregorich Hapshamin? You should very well know that.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “Why must you insist on playing games?” he spat. “Tell me why you despise me so! Surely I am not so unlika
ble.” Couldn’t she at least try to be with him? He was positive that he could make this difficult woman very happy if she would but give him the opportunity. Why resort to making such a scene when it could be settled with a short courtship?
Silvia slipped her boots out of the stirrups. Slowly she began to rise until her feet were standing on her bejeweled saddle. Exclamations erupted everywhere, but she ignored them, staring at the shocked expression on Gregorich’s face instead.
“Why do I despise you? To tell you the reason I must first explain to you who I am, though you already know. I was born nineteen years ago in the palace you call your home. My mother told the city I was stillborn so that I would not be hunted down and murdered because of vicious lies being spread in this city. This was because of you, Gregorich! Your mouth put shame and weakness upon my family! My parents were driven away and I was placed somewhere safe until I was strong enough to come back. Can you guess now the reason I loathe you so?”
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