by Pamita Rao
The battle lasted many months, and Creed killed many with his dark magic. At the end, Taelk was defeated, its beauty destroyed, men, women and children dragged away from the palace as slaves to the Tireol Empire. No one knew what happened to the king of Taelk. Some said that Creed had viciously torn his body apart and threw it into the Myrth Sea for sharks to find, while others rumored that he was still held a prisoner in the dungeons that Creed visited every year.
Being held a prisoner herself in the dungeons of Tireol known as The Griesmal, Elora knew her death was near. Every day, she watched soldiers of Taelk, dragged from their knees to torture chambers in Griesmal, where they were beaten. If they died, they would be thrown into a pit of fire. If not, they would be dragged back, bleeding, into the chambers for another beating on another day.
Elora waited for many days for her beating to come, but it never did. To her surprise, Creed visited her in the dungeon with his guards, unchained her, and ordered she be brought up to his chamber. She had pulled at her ropes, kicked and screamed. She was a warrior; she would rather take a beating than be held a prisoner in Creed’s harem.
“You will be my betrothed, the queen of the Tirolean empire,” he said when her throat dried of screams. “You will birth the heir to the throne, and in return, your family will be set free. If you do not agree, I will auction you and all the women in your family to the highest bidders among the aristocrats. Who wouldn’t want a warrior in their harem?”
Her family was everything to her. Her brother and sister were younger, had their whole lives ahead of them, and she was the oldest. She had to protect them. Elora accepted the proposal, and her father was set free. Her family was reunited on her wedding day, which happened a few months after her release. Her mother had wept at the loss of her child, but her father had held his head high.
“You are a warrior,” he reminded her. “Warriors do not cry. Kill him tonight, Elora. Kill him in his sleep.” Elora had intended to kill Creed that night, but she had seen his powers with her own eyes and feared what he would do to her family if he caught her. Creed’s promise to release her family was more precious to her.
A year later, Elora knew she was with child. After she made her announcement, Creed stopped returning to her chamber. She knew that there were other queens in the palace, ones Creed had captured from other kingdoms, younger, more beautiful than she was. Elora never understood why he chose her to be a queen. She was only a warrior girl. The chambermaids had told Elora that Creed was taken by her beauty, but she never believed in his lies. In her heart, she knew that something was not right, that there was danger for her, and she did not realize what the danger was until the day her son was born.
Biliyam released the locks of Elora’s hair, let it cascade down her back, and smoothened it by stroking her tress. Elora felt some of her anger seep away as Biliyam combed her hair. She and Biliyam had grown up in the same fields of Taelk. When they grew older, Biliyam went onto work for the queen of Taelk, and Elora’s strength had granted her a position in Taelk’s army.
“I wouldn’t know what to do without you,” said Elora.
Biliyam laughed a little. “It is you who gave us a second life, my queen. You gave shelter and protection to my children. If not for you, I would be in the harem of aristocrats, my children would be slaves in their homes, and my husband chained in the dungeons of Tireol. My family and I will be loyal to you till the day of our death.”
Fireworks lit up the sky, and Tirolean people cheered. Under all the merriment and joy, Elora saw fear. She was a warrior, and the one thing she knew was how to read a man’s face. Tonight may have been a night of merriment for those who worshiped Creed, but it was the day of dread for many of the villagers. Preparing flowers, garlands, and arrangements for food were all on the villagers’ shoulders. Many aristocrats brought slaves with them to clean up after them in the palace. Everything had to be completed before the ceremony, and many villagers worked until their fingers bled to finish making exquisite ornaments, dresses for the families. Even the horses were given new horseshoes, a symbol of aristocracy.
Biliyam decorated Elora’s hair as she had done every day for the past few years and bowed when the last golden petal was securely in place. She turned Elora so that she could look at herself in the mirror, but all she could see was the tight lines that were forming on her forehead and her pale face. Elora could not recognize herself as being the age she was, only twenty-three years old.
Sana came in, carrying a bowl containing a skin-colored liquid. She began applying it under the queen’s eyes. Once everything was in place, Sana left the room, and Elora turned to Biliyam and whispered.
“Have you done what I asked?”
“Yes, but it wasn’t easy, my queen.” Biliyam lifted a vial from underneath her clothes.
“Did anyone suspect you?” asked Elora.
Biliyam nodded. “The other slave maids wanted to know what was in the vial. I told them that prince Neelahaim was having the chills and needed some calming, and then I told them to get back to work. I tell you, my queen; this castle has more nosy slaves than I have ever seen in Groigad,” she said, shaking her head. “They want to know everything.”
Elora thought for a moment about how she would proceed. She had been preparing for this day from the moment Creed and Drahim announced the ceremony. As a warrior, she had learned to read expressions, and she knew Drahim was lying when he said it was only a ceremony to celebrate the prince’s birth. She knew Creed only invited Drahim to his kingdom for his dark powers.
That night, she had sent a few Ghimsh slaves to Creed’s chamber to hear what was spoken between Creed and Drahim. Large ears helped a Ghimsh hear sounds from far away. Not many knew of their ability, as the Ghimshs tended to keep their ability a secret—it was how they protected themselves.
Elora had cried that night when the Ghimshs related everything they had heard. She felt helpless. How could she protect Neelahaim when the entire empire was with Creed? That night, when she held her child in her arms, she vowed to protect him and arrange for his escape with the support of Ghimshs and Biliyam.
She felt her resolve strengthen as she thought more about her actions. Could they do this? she thought. Could she free Neelahaim from any impending dangers? What if Creed found out about her arrangement and sent his guards to stop her.
“My queen,” Biliyam whispered, sensing a change in Elora’s mood. “If the king comes to know about our arrangement, then I will beg him to spare your life. I will stand in front of you and take his wrath.”
Elora’s heart softened, and her eyes teared at her friend’s loyalty. “I am not afraid of death Biliyam. I will be happy to leave this world knowing my son is safe.”
The sound of footsteps alerted Elora as a short man came before them and bowed. His clothes were old, long ears peaked from his hair, and a gray beard had grown on his chin.
“Kiu,” said Elora. “What information do you bring me?” The slave lifted his head and looked between Biliyam and Elora.
“The king has left for the ceremony. You can proceed now, my queen. I have made certain; there are no guards in the prince’s chamber.”
Elora felt her heartbeat quicken. She had been waiting for this moment for days. “Go, Biliyam,” she said. “Give Neelahaim the potion from the vial before the ceremony begins. You are the only one I trust. No one will suspect your presence in his chamber, as you are my most trusted chambermaid.”
Biliyam bowed and left the chamber, leaving Elora alone with the slave. He watched her as she got up to pace the hall.
“My queen, this path you seek is not without dangers. The king is evil; he will kill you if he knows you took his son away. Are you certain you want to proceed? Why not give him this child and seek your freedom?” Kiu was a Ghimsh whom she had met in Taelk before the war. They had soon become allies and fought against Creed. Ghimshs were only loyal to those who had served them in some way. Elora had earned her trust back in Taelk and had become their ally
, but the Ghimshs did not extend their loyalty to family members of their allies. She knew it was in his nature to protect her and not her child, as he did not consider himself an ally of Neelahaim, but she was a mother now and all her thoughts would always be with Neelahaim. She would protect him as an animal would protect its cubs.
“He is my son, Kiu. You should know by now that I will do anything for him.”
Kiu hesitated for a minute. He looked around him to see if anyone was watching him before approaching her.
“I only speak the truth, my queen. Once the king knows it was you, he will behead you. I understand a mother’s pain, but you have to remember that the prince has the blood of Creed. The same evil powers may course through his veins, and he may possess evil inside of him, just as the king does. You can save the prince from the king, as he is only an infant and does not deserve to die. But as he grows, his heritage—the evil blood—will take him over. You cannot separate him from his evil heritage, my queen. He was born with it. It is best to allow the king to keep the child and ensure your own safety, my queen.”
Elora turned to him in anger. If it was any other man, she would have cut off his head, but she had to remember Kiu’s nature; his loyalty only lay with her and no one else. She closed her eyes and softened her anger towards him. His intention was to save her life, but as a mother, she did not feel that her life was worth more than her son’s life. Although Kiu was only concerned for her safety, the very thought of anyone touching her child filled her with rage.
“No!” She raised her voice and pinned Kiu with a stare. “I will not let anyone near my son, least of all Drahim. He is dark; he will stop at nothing to give Creed what he wants. Have you not seen what Creed did to all those soldiers from Taelk, or have you forgotten? He forced me to have this child for only one reason, to get access to his powers, to go through the gates of heaven. I will not give him the satisfaction. I will not let him destroy other lands as he has done ours. We may have lost the battle of Taelk, but we shall not be responsible for the loss of lives in other worlds, and I will not allow him to lay a finger on my son.” Her heart thumped with anger and fear, and she sat down on her chair to slow her beating heart. She would not let Creed succeed; she would die before he harmed her son.
A guard came into her chamber and stopped as soon as he saw Kiu. Kiu quickly scurried away from the chamber but the guard’s eyes followed his every move. Everyone knew Kiu as the slave who served Creed, but his presence in Elora’s chamber would raise some brows. The guard would report what he saw to Creed, but she did not worry about the discovery, not when her son’s life was at risk.
“The dark sages have arrived, my queen,” said the guard, his head bowed and his eyes to the ground. “The king expects your presence in the great hall for the ceremony.”
Elora tensed. This was the moment she had been dreading from the day Neelahaim was born. She had met Drahim only twice, once during her marriage and once on the day of her son’s birth, and both times, she sensed a darkness in him. It hung like a serpent on one’s neck, ready to strike if one went too close. Drahim, the most powerful dark sage, was rumored to have killed his own mother. With a large nose, a big forehead and the dark powers he possessed, it was easy to think the rumors were true, but something in his eyes had felt warm and protective. It was as if, when he gazed at her, he was imagining someone else. In the little time she knew him, he spoke to her with respect.
Drahim was very close to Creed. Exiled to live alone in a forest, Creed had taken to Drahim as a son would a father. It was well known that Balthasar had exiled all the dark sages from the kingdom, but Creed had brought them back. He used them to increase the evil within him, to make him more powerful. I will fight until my death to protect you, my son, she thought to herself. She was going to do something far braver than she had ever done before.
The guard retreated, and Elora stood up in wait for the other chambermaids to approach her and guide her to the great hall of the palace. The ceremony was about to begin, and she hoped that Biliyam had done everything as she had asked.
Biliyam entered through the door at the same moment and whispered, “All the maids in the prince’s chamber have been sent away, my queen. There will be no one during the ceremony.”
“Did any of them question why they were being sent away?”
“Yes, my queen, they were curious, but I told them to do as told. You do not worry about their nosiness, my queen. They will stay quiet. They care about their jobs in the castle, but they also care about their own safety. If the king asks them, they will all say they knew nothing.”
Elora nodded as tears formed in her eyes, blurring her vision. “I will forever be in your debt, Biliyam.” She opened a silver box, pulled out a string of pearls, and held it out to Biliyam. “Here,” said Elora. “Take it as a reward for your services. It can be of some use for your family.”
Biliyam’s forehead creased, and she stepped back as if in shock. “You make me feel small, my queen. I will always be loyal to you, you must know that.”
Elora nodded. “Then may the lords be with you and me when this happens.” Biliyam held Elora’s outstretched hand, and they both looked towards each other, tears in their eyes. “Promise me that you will stay with my son until he is in safe hands.”
“I promise you, my queen, I will not leave his sight until he has safely escaped from this palace.”
Elora walked over to her window and gazed towards the skies. That is where gods reside, her mother had said when she was younger. They listen to you if you pray earnestly.
Elora had never been a believer. She believed in hunting, in wars, in sieges, in rules, but the one thing she never believed in was a higher power. She never believed until she met Creed. If there were evil, surely there would be good. If there was war, surely there was peace, and if there were demons and dark sages, then surely there was a God.
She closed her eyes, and for the first time in her life, prayed. “Forgive me, gods. I know I have never believed in you before and I have sinned by marrying evil, but I had no choice. I beg you not to punish my child. He is born without sin, a new-born in this evil world. I pray to you today to protect him from those who wish to harm him, to keep Creed and his soldiers away from him. If you have any love left for me, then guide and protect my child.” This was her only chance, the only way she knew how to protect her child, and she would do everything in her power to make it happen.
CHAPTER FOUR
Alaira
Alaira’s mouth watered at various smells that drifted in the large kitchen as she, Horace, and Klink slipped into the castle back entrance. The smells of Cardamom, fennel, and onion were mingled with the smell of roasting meat, pickled fish, and burning pans. The clanking of metal from pans and pots created a loud noise that no one seemed to care about, as slaves of various heights and age ran between stoves and kitchen counters, cooking, cleaning, cutting vegetables, and laying out the dishes on trays to be served.
Alaira stood stunned for a second. She had never seen such a huge hall for food before. Her own home contained a small section of the house where they shared the cooking responsibilities. The slaves’ long, dull gowns, tied at the waist with a bow, and the netted caps covering their heads, were very similar to the ones she and father wore back home in Nimah, when they would cook food together. Which is why Alaira had worn precisely that tonight as a disguise. A basket swung at Alaira’s arm, and a slave maid squinted at her.
“Why do you carry a basket around the kitchen? Get to work,” she said, but Alaira ignored her. She passed by a man pouring liquor from one of the barrels that Freddic had sent into long glasses. He arranged them in a circle on a large silver tray. Alaira felt a sudden burst of thirst at the sight of the bubbling liquid. Horace, who was standing next to her, felt the same way as he reached out to pick one glass from the tray.
“What are you doing?” shouted the man who was arranging the glasses. “That is for the guests of the castle.”
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�We are guests too, aren’t we, Alaira?” Horace winked towards her as the man carried the trays away, balancing them, one on each hand. The man did not dress like the other slaves. He had a vest on his clothes and a glove to carry the tray. Maybe they do not want his fingers on their glasses, thought Alaira as she watched him walk out of a door that led to the grand hall.
Alaira breathed in the fragrance of herbs as another tray passed by her. She walked past a man peeling perfectly round fruits and tossing them into boiling water. Next to him, a woman poured thick gravy over steaming meat. Her mouth watered and her stomach growled. How long had it been since they had eaten?
It had taken them two days to reach the castle; they had stayed in a tavern for a night, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Since women were not allowed in taverns, she had to dress up as a man and stay inside the small shelter they were given. They had eaten whatever leftovers they were offered from the kitchen, as they had no coins to spend. Horace rubbed his stomach.
“All this food is making me hungry. Can we sneak a leg of lamb from that pot before”—he lowered his voice—“we do what we have to do?”
Klink, who was looking at the same pot, nodded his head vigorously. “Please, Alaira, I am hungry too.”
Alaira sighed. If she said yes, then they would eat up the entire kitchen. She loved her little brother, but Horace could eat like an ogre. He and his close mate Klink were always hungry, and they would not stop with just a leg of lamb. Their pleading eyes and folded hands would sway her on any other day, but they were here for a reason. She was hungry and thirsty too, but they would have to wait until they reached Nimah safely. Alaira shook her head.
