War Against the Realm

by Sherri Beth Mitchell

  “No,” she whispered. “You will not have me, black dragon.”

  “Talking to yourself, milady?”

  Below her balcony, the Prince of Wexford was gazing up at her.

  Silvia was caught off guard, and was very glad that it was too dark for him to see her blushing.

  “Sometimes one has to give voice to the things inside their head, lest those things take a mind of their own and consume them.”

  Dalton tilted his handsome head to the side, gazing at her curiously. “And these are things which one wouldn’t want to be consumed by?”

  Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed hard before answering. “One cannot be certain at all that those things would be best for themselves or for their kingdom.”

  “Or for one’s husband?” he asked. When she didn’t respond, he hurriedly went on. “How is he holding up?”

  “The same as he was right after he heard,” she said with a small shrug of her shoulders. “He will barely speak and is very withdrawn. When he does speak…he seems a totally different person.”

  “Then it is best we leave on the ‘morrow so that the journey may distract him.”

  “Yes, that will be best for him,” she replied, looking away into the night. The undulating hills loomed in the distance, with gently rolling fields of crops leading the way to them. The night seemed much darker with the loss of someone she cared for deeply.

  “My Queen, I know what it’s like to lose a brother. No one should have to go through such a thing. I am truly sorry for his loss, and for yours as well.”

  Silvia’s green eyes sparkled in the starlight as she turned to him again. “You’ve lost a brother?”

  “Yes…years ago. My mother gave birth to twins, but one of them died at just a few months old. My younger brother Leu was too young to speak when his twin died, though you could tell he knew something was wrong. It rendered my heart in two.” He stared at her intently, silently daring her eyes to stray from his. “But thankfully it has become whole again.”

  Silvia found herself blushing again and steered the conversation away from hearts. “I had a brother once, but he was killed before I was born.”

  “I know—I remember,” Dalton said quietly. “Your mother stayed with us for a time afterwards.”

  “Of course,” she muttered. “How silly of me to have forgotten that you would have known of him.”

  “I was very young, so ‘knowing him’ was a relative term,” Dalton said. “And it’s not silly to forget things which happened before your time.”

  Silvia became sullen. “All this talk of death makes me miss Quentin more. It’s my fault he was ever here in the first place. I brought his death…I am the reason it came to pass.”

  Before she could ask what he was doing, Dalton jumped onto the wooden lattice next to the balcony and scaled it with ease. Moments later he stood in front of her and grasped her face in his hands. “I never want to hear those words spill forth from your mouth again. You’re doing what’s right, and Quentin knew that down to his core. Guilt over his death has bewitched your tongue, milady…let it not do so anymore. If you loved him as your servant, as your friend, and as your family, show it the best way you can: defeat Rohedon’s Realm.”

  She realized he had drawn himself closer and closer to her as he spoke and was now mere inches from the delicate lines of her mouth. She breathed him in as he held her there, his scent vaguely reminding her of something she couldn’t put her finger on. He ran his thumb across her cheek and noticed it was wet.

  He bent towards her and gently kissed her tears, tasting their salty pain upon his lips. “Do not cry,” he whispered.

  She briefly closed her eyes and said, “Must you kiss away my tears, young prince?”

  “Yes, I must,” he replied softly. “My heart tells me I must do whatever it is that you need.”

  “Your heart has made a poor choice, then.” She opened her eyes, the emeralds sparkling through more tears.

  “My heart does not know any other way. No matter what choice I want to make, it leads me to you. I cannot deny it the pleasure of obeying your every wish.”

  “My every wish?” she said softly, shaking her head. “I wish to have our Quentin back.” She collapsed into his arms and he stroked her hair, holding her as her heart finally accepted that she would see her friend, her brother-in-law, no more.

  Down below, Hans watched them hold one another on the balcony, his eyes full of silent fury. He turned his heel and stalked off into the night.

  A knock sounded at the door. Saris answered it to find one of their servants—a tall, stout man by the name of Talus—standing outside it.

  “Milady, I have word of the Wyld brethren.”

  “Speak it, Talus,” she said, her eyes eager.

  “They’re on the Nillian border and should reach the city within a day. They await your commands to attack.”

  Saris smiled. “Finally, some good news. Stay here with Natosha in case she needs help with this.” She gestured at Emaree’s helpless form still held invisibly against the wall. “I’ll be right back.”

  Natosha stood still, watching Emaree with disgust. They had to figure out how to reverse the spell for the skin over her mouth. She desperately wanted to know where this man was so that she could deal with him personally. Also, it was her fault he was inside their domicile to begin with.

  Or she could take him back to his brother…

  The very thought shocked her for she would never do such a thing, would she? But the thought of his brother brought Keelan to the front of her mind. She grabbed a handful of two different powders—one to travel with and one for Keelan—and looked at Talus hard. “Don’t let this filthy animal out of your sight. I’ll return momentarily.”

  She sprinkled the traveling powder, called nawa, around her feet and disappeared. She blinked a couple of times, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. It was the same room she’d been in earlier, though it appeared to be empty. She spotted the bed and walked over to see the King of Lystia, the father of her unborn child, laying prone in his sleep. She noted the way his skin glistened with sweat, and the way his eyelids darted about beneath the lids. She leaned towards him and blew the other powder, called drepsam, into his face and watched as his eye movement slowed. The powder was so fine it was almost dust and most of it dissolved almost instantly when used.

  “Wake up, Keelan,” she whispered.

  His dark brown eyes opened and found hers in the dimly lit room.

  “What do you want?” he grumbled.

  Not exactly the response she’d been expecting. She waited as the magic worked itself upon him; she could see his eyes shifting back and forth between suspicion and something else. She smiled, glad that she’d brought the drepsam. It had been so useful in the past.

  “You know what I want,” she said in a sultry voice. Her hand found him under the sheets, ready for whatever she wished.

  “I don’t…I don’t want that,” he said gruffly. “I don’t want you.”

  A frown turned her lips down. “And why is that? Am I not all that you could ever ask for?”

  “You killed my brother.”

  Her mind swam with indecisions. She wanted his brother dead for daring to intrude into her home; at the same time, she wished Keelan would succumb to her will. She could see that there would be no getting both.

  “You murdered him,” Keelan continued through clenched teeth.

  “You speak of what I said earlier? That was a ruse in case my sister-wives were watching me.” She bent down until her mouth was touching his earlobe and whispered, “I have him as a captive in our mountain, my King. Give yourself to me completely and I will return him to you unharmed.”

  She sat back up to see his reaction, but shock and pain rolled through her as his hand shot up, his fist connecting with her cheekbone.

  “Lies!” he shouted, and she saw with disbelief that his eyes were once again clear. The powder was not affecting him the same way! “Lies f
rom a witch! I will come to your kingdom and put your head upon a stake, heathen!”

  He began to get up and she jumped back, sprinkling the nawa around herself hurriedly to go back home.

  She appeared in her room where the ornate mirror stood. She walked up to it and looked at her reflection sadly. Her cheekbone would begin to swell soon and her face was already quite red. Shame overtook her and she vowed that she would not feel anything more for this Lystian. She spoke a short spell softly and the pain and redness left her face. Her mind dwelled on Keelan’s behavior. Natosha did not fool herself into pretending she knew him well, but his sudden reaction to her was alarming.

  No…could it be that maybe the reaction wasn’t to her, but to the powder? She’d certainly heard of such a thing where mortals went crazy from it, but the thought haunted her. She hadn’t even used much, so was this something that was even feasible?

  She turned to look towards Emaree in the other room, intent on taking her frustrations out on anyone or anything she could.

  Muffled yells sounded from inside, causing Dalton and Silvia to break apart hurriedly and run into her quarters. More shouting came and they realized it was from across the hall.

  Keelan’s room.

  Silvia glanced at Dalton, and they threw open the door, racing into the hall. Silvia had just enough time to think how glad she was that no one else occupied the hallway to see the prince dashing out of her room before she twisted the knob on her husband’s door.

  “Keelan?” she called out as she entered.

  She saw him stumbling out of the bed, completely undressed, and mumbling to himself. He looked over at her, and began to walk in her direction.

  “Get your things ready. We’re leaving now.” He did not appear to be the least bit embarrassed about Prince Dalton seeing him naked, nor did he seem to even realize the other man was in the room.

  “My Lord, surely you cannot mean that,” Silvia said. “’Tis the middle of the night.”

  Keelan stood in front of her, and grasped her face in his hands. “I know exactly what part of the night it is, my precious Silvia. But we must go now. Time is of the essence!”

  Though they were in the dark, his eyes appeared to be wild, as though he were an untamed animal. Silvia touched his face tenderly, concern in her eyes. “What is wrong, Keelan? What has happened to you this night?”

  “A visit from the heathen,” he whispered, his eyes darting around the room as though searching for something…or someone. “My brother lives, Silvia! We must rescue him before it’s too late.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “The witch came back,” he hissed. “She claimed my brother being dead was only a story. She said he is with her now.”

  Silvia grabbed his hands and shoved them away. “So she came back, did she?”

  Keelan chuckled. “Aye, she did…but I bet she won’t do that again.” He turned his hand over to look at his knuckles.

  “What did you do, Keelan?” Prince Dalton asked warily.

  The King’s eyes went to the prince and took him in for a long second before answering. “Gave her only a taste of what is coming for her. The next time I see her, my sword will taste her blood.”

  “I do not doubt this, my King. They will all feel the kiss of our blades before this war ends.” Dalton gazed at Keelan solemnly and kept his position near the queen. “But why do you wish to leave at this moment? The army is getting the last bit of rest that they can before we push them tomorrow. Would you take that from them?”

  Keelan stood lost in thought. “In weighing my options…yes, I would. Natosha will no doubt seek to get even with me for what I did. I will not lose my brother again. I will not have it. I will leave tonight. Whether or not you and the army wait until morning is up to you.”

  “We will go with you, Keelan,” Silvia said quickly. She looked at Dalton imploringly. “If what she told Keelan is the truth, we have to get to Quentin. We need his brother back.” Her eyes watered at the thought of seeing her friend alive once more, and she wanted Dalton to understand the importance of why her husband wished to travel in the dead of night.

  Dalton’s gaze softened at her expression. “So you wish it…so it shall be.”

  “Everything good in here?” Lord Cambry stood in the open doorway, taking in the naked king, his queen, and the prince.

  “Ready the men. We leave at once for Lordale. Wake Lord Byarne and notify him immediately.”

  Cambry nodded, but walked up to the king instead of leaving. Keelan stared at him hard, but said nothing as the man walked around him.

  “Is there a problem, Cambry?” the King growled.

  Cambry bent down and peered into Keelan’s face. “No, Your Highness. I’ll ready your men as quickly as possible. Perhaps you’d like to get dressed while you wait?”

  He gave a meaningful glance towards Silvia and Dalton, turned about, and left the room. The prince followed suit, leaving Silvia with her husband.

  “Let’s get you dressed,” she said, but he held out his hand and grabbed her wrist to stop her from going to get his attire.

  “I did nothing with her, Silvia. I know not why she keeps trying to come here. I promise you that I will take her last breath for what she has done to our marriage. I won’t let her ruin us. Don’t give up on me, Silvia.”

  A solitary tear ran down her cheek. “I won’t give up Keelan…but don’t make me regret it.”

  Cambry glanced over his shoulder to make sure the prince was following. A little ways down the hall, they turned a corner and ran into Hans, who looked the worse for wear.

  “Ah, Hans—perfect! I need to see you too, please. Come, gentlemen,” Cambry said. He led them to the dining hall, where there was a little bit of wine left over at the large table.

  “What is it that you want?” Hans asked gruffly. “I have things that need attending to.”

  “Yes, you do,” Lord Cambry agreed, taking a swig of wine. “Helping to get the soldiers roused up is one of them.”

  Hans’ eyebrows drew down. “We’re not leaving until the morning.”

  “Wrong. We’re leaving as soon as we can get everyone woken up. King Keelan has had another visit from one of the witches.”

  “How do you know this?” Hans inquired.

  Cambry threw him a dark expression. “He had trace remnants of some sort of dust on his face when I went in there—barely noticeable to the naked eye. I’ve seen this dust on him before, and if it’s what I think it is, he’s in trouble.”

  “Look here, if you know something that could endanger my king then you’d best tell me and be up front about it.”

  “That’s why you’re here right now,” Cambry said touchily. “Now, listen to what I have to say. There was an older man who used to live in Jevelas. He practiced magic and used a dust similar to that to transport himself to different places. But there was a similar dust, or powder, that was different. He used to manipulate the mind.”

  “And what happened to this gentleman in Jevelas?” asked Dalton.

  Cambry shrugged. “He went insane and killed his whole family. He was hung for it.”

  “By the gods, man!” Dalton said with disgust. “What are we supposed to do now?”

  “Keep a close vigil on him to make sure there are no more visits from the heathen witch, and make sure that if he does go crazy…that your queen survives it.”

  Lord Cambry turned his heel and left.

  Chapter Seven: Visions of Past and Future

  Aldoa stood atop of the palace, watching Lord Cambry ride out into the night towards the army, Hans close at his heels on another horse. She pursed her lips in consternation as she turned her eyes up to the stars.

  “What have you to show me?” she said, and waited. She was patient, as always, for the stars were billions of years older than she, and it could sometimes take a while for them to respond. She breathed in the night air, with its warm scents of grass and blossoms.

  The sky began to d
arken, and Aldoa’s eyes began to change. She held out her arms and felt the pull of the stars…the magic they held in everlasting abundance. Her eyes, now a luminescent milky white, seemed to be absorbing all of the light in the night sky. Her head slammed back from the force of the magic flowing into her eyes and she gasped; never before had a vision from the stars been so powerful.

  The first thing she saw was a tall, barren mountain of rock next to a dismal black lake. She recognized the place immediately as the witches’ mountain, and the lake was the one she wished to reclaim. The water was foul with evil; she could feel it even through the vision. Suddenly her surroundings changed and she was in someone’s bedchamber, seemingly within the same dark mountain. Before her was a grand mirror with old magic in it. Staring at it, she glimpsed an image that made her heart stall, but it vanished as quickly as it had come and left her to wonder if she had even seen it at all. Turning away from the mirror, Aldoa’s eyes took in a different sight: she was back in the city of Nillias. The city was nearly empty, and as quiet as a new moon is dark. But a bright white figure appeared, crumpling to the ground with something in its arms. Her aged senses told her that whoever it was—they were hurt badly. The scene faded away and her eyes returned to normal. She stood silent, taking in everything from the visions.