by Sela Croft
I rode next to Nicolai, and he guided us to a patch of trees off the road. He went to one covered with thick moss, then leaned over to retrieve a document. He reached into the tree, digging his hand into the knothole, and grabbed the paper.
“I’ll turn this over to my commander,” Nicolai said.
“Let’s get you back swiftly, then.” Draven headed toward home.
It was over for now. A battle had been fought and won, but there would be more. Nicolai would venture behind enemy lines, and the Dark Fighters would pick us off every chance they got. Draven’s men had fought back, but it was a minor win in the scheme of things.
I’d done the right thing by going after Nicolai. I’d made the right choice…but at what cost? It was possible that I’d ruined my chance to have children. It would be difficult to tell Nicolai, if it came to that. Family was what we fought for.
I’d seek medical care discreetly, so as not to alarm Nicolai. Until there was something definite to tell him, I wouldn’t broach the subject. He had enough to deal with; I didn’t want him worrying about me—or disillusioned by heartbreaking news.
Nicolai pulled his horse alongside mine, keeping pace. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m just…recovering, that’s all.” I looked at him, joyful that he was strong and healthy. “I panicked when I realized what had happened to you.”
“But we’re together again,” Nicolai said, taking my hand.
“Yes…we are. And I am truly grateful for that.” I pushed aside any unwelcome thoughts. Joy filled my heart that Nicolai was unharmed and by my side again.
CHAPTER 52 - SELENE
When I’d left Mirela to ponder her sorceress nature, I hadn’t expected to hear from Alban. In my experience, he wasn’t the forgiving kind. There was no chance that he’d forgotten about his request that I bring Mirela to him.
The king’s message put me on guard, since I was unsure what he had in mind. Whatever it was couldn’t be good, but I was curious. Against my better judgment, I went to the palace, taking him up on his invitation.
Possibly, Alban wished to lure me back so he could wield punishment for my defiance. Yet sending invitations wasn’t his style. If that was what he intended, then he wouldn’t take a chance on my refusal to appear. He would have concocted some other devious method to achieve my demise.
I took encouragement from the fact that he’d sought me out. It meant that he’d remembered my value, and I hoped to use that to my advantage. After teleporting to his mountain, I stared at the black palace, doubting my decision to visit.
Much was at stake in the war, so I proceeded. There was a chance of gaining important intelligence. And I wished to solve the mystery as to why Alban wanted to see me, since I hadn’t complied with his last order. Maybe he had another desire he wished for me to satisfy.
The palace was tomblike, a condition I’d come to expect. Rumbles echoed in the lifeless hallways, indicating the presence of his servants. Guards were stationed throughout the palace to discourage any intruders. Although I doubted many had any interest in entering the dark interior.
I wondered at my own sanity for showing up at the palace again. It was becoming a habit. Alban was the not the sort to hang out with. He had limited uses, and I needed to bear that in mind. Too much association with him could be deadly.
It was good that I didn’t find Alban in the religious room. One encounter with the gods was enough to satisfy me for quite a while. I had no wish to deal with any who were out of my league. Unlike the king, I didn’t have delusions of grandeur. I knew when I was outclassed.
Alban was in an expansive parlor that was decorated in keeping with the rest of the place. The black and gray furniture and curtains were accented with a bit of gold trim. It was morbid anyway. It wasn’t his taste in decorating that made me balk. It was the scene that was about to unfold.
Alban’s red eyes shimmered. “Ah, Selene…you’re just in time.”
The king wore a red velvet cape, his choice of dress indicating a ceremony. He wasn’t as mesmerizing as the guest who’d already arrived. Nemuri was a seer, and was one of the elite, because she was descended from the great ones. I knew her, so nodded in greeting.
“What is this?” I said, glaring at Alban.
Nemuri was in chains and there were two robust guards keeping her secured. She had a young visage, though she was very old. She had long silver hair that fell to her waist, and high cheekbones attesting to her heritage. Her skin was smooth and pale, her lips deep red.
She was beautiful woman who appeared to be in her thirties, though that was an illusion. As a seer, she was renowned throughout the kingdom. The origin of her given name was from her family line; Nemuri meant strength and independence.
In the years that I’d known her, Nemuri had lived up to her name. She could not be swayed to take sides, and her predictions couldn’t be bought. She had the gift of seeing into the future and shared what she saw according to her wish—no one else’s.
Nemuri was recognized for her profound moral and spiritual insight. Others with her skill required a glass or crystal globe to see into the future, but she didn’t need any props.
She was not a mere fortune-teller, who would read cards for a few dollars. She honored her title—as those who had come before her—in that her insight into events could be trusted. An authentic seer did not take sides, so was not invested in outcomes.
I couldn’t fathom Nemuri in chains. As a forecaster of events, she was respected. I wondered if Alban realized what he dabbled in. Attempting to change destiny was one thing, but it appeared that he intended to extract a prophecy by force.
“It seems I must demonstrate my winning role,” Alban said, looking at me. “You harbor doubts. That’s the only explanation for your failure to comply with my requests.”
I stared at the king, still uncertain where all of this was going.
Nemuri didn’t waver. She stood proudly and looked upon me kindly, as though chains didn’t bind her. It occurred to me that she placed little faith in the power of the physical to hold her captive.
I stepped up to Alban. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I will turn you into any ally.” The king had a wild look in his eyes that I backed away from. “You will hear for yourself what is to come. I know you well…you won’t be stupid and give your loyalty to the losers, will you?”
That was a question that didn’t deserve an answer. What I did wasn’t the king’s business. Yet it seemed as though he’d taken the matter into his own hands and planned to coerce me to his side. It made sense why he hadn’t brought up my failure to bring Mirela to him.
Alban had a more urgent matter on his mind. He didn’t want me to bring him Mirela. He intended for me to do his bidding on an ongoing basis. If he could convince me of his rightness—that fate would hand him the victory—he had confidence that I was his. My power of sorcery would be his to command.
“This is useless,” I said. “Let her go. You have no right to manhandle Nemuri. She is a seer with more wisdom than you can conceive of.”
Alban said, “Be quiet!”
I moved toward Nemuri, trying to think of a way to free her. But a guard loomed over me, blocking my path. Then the king roared out his command.
“If you are a diviner, the visionary you’re thought to be…you will tell me what I want to know.” Alban stood before Nemuri. She didn’t blink or show any sign that the king’s blustering impressed her.
I looked into Nemuri’s caramel-brown eyes, seeing only calm resistance. She was not anyone’s to command—only the king was too blind to observe what was before him.
“Foretell the future, great seer,” Alban said. “I’m anxious to hear it. You are in the middle of a war like the rest of us.” He smirked. “I have confidence that you’ve looked ahead, that you have seen the outcome.”
Nemuri didn’t answer.
Alban stiffened. “I demand that you share what you’ve seen. I wish to hear i
t from your lips.”
For a moment, it seemed that Nemuri would remain mute. She looked at the king, then stared past him. Her eyes glazed over, so it appeared that she’d gone into reverie. Seconds ticked by, then minutes. Alban’s patience wore thin, and he paced in front of her.
I looked into her empty stare, sensing her soul-deep thoughtfulness. I marveled that she’d complied with Alban, considering that she was present under duress. And I wondered what she would share with the king. Despite his threats, she might not tell him anything.
When Nemuri stirred, she looked at me first. I perceived a slight nod, and a smile that lit her eyes. I only hoped that what she was about to do was worth it.
“King…”
Alban rushed over to her, pride in his expression. “I’m waiting. I wish to hear it all. I’ve long anticipated this moment.”
Nemuri faced the king and said, “I will honor your request and tell you of the future. But…only if you are sure that you want to hear it.”
“Yes, tell me, and don’t hold anything back,” Alban said, with his chin held high.
“Very well,” Nemuri said. “The war you have seen so far is nothing compared to what is to come. You have made your plea to the gods for victory, and prepared your monsters to kill your enemies.”
Alban’s eyes glowed with anticipation. “Continue…seer.”
“There will be bloody battles, and your monsters will wreak havoc on many.”
Alban grinned. “As it should be.”
“Yet there are problems ahead,” Nimuri said. “You see into the future with eyes that cannot properly focus. You view things as you wish to see them. But fate will not mold to your every wish, and destiny does not obey your commands.”
“I care nothing for all of that,” Alban said. “My concern is for victory. I will fight every bloody battle and conquer every barrier. I want to know the outcome. I demand that you tell me.”
Nimuri shook her head. “There are too many variables. Destiny’s course is not predetermined. I have looked into the future and seen this war ended.”
“And I rule as king, with my monarchy intact,” the king thundered.
“Much has to happen for that to come to pass,” Nemuri said. “I have heard your demand, but I must tell you…I cannot predict the victor in this war.”
Alban roared like an injured animal, and even his guards flinched. “You are lying!” He leaned close to Nemuri’s face. “I’ll give you one chance to rescind your claim. Tell me what you know, that I am the king and I will not be unseated.”
Nemuri watched the king but showed no sign of acquiescing. “I have done as you asked. I’ve told you the truth.”
In a flash, Alban raised his staff, and light blazed at the seer. Her cape caught fire, but I waved my hands to extinguish it before it burned her. “You will regret your betrayal,” he said. “Guards…imprison her!” His guards began to drag her away.
“You will suffer in incarceration for the lies you have told. You may contemplate your treachery behind bars in my prison,” Alban said. “Such is my anger that I would relish killing you…but I refuse to free you to death.”
I was horrified, as Alban had dared to harass and then imprison a great seer. The only worse sin would be to kill her, which he yet might do—as if her murder would undo her message. Seers were protected; no one dared threaten or harm them. To kill one would reap the wrath of the heavens, and I doubted that even Alban would survive that.
Yet Nemuri was gone, hauled off to some moldy dungeon.
Anger surged within me, and I was inclined to go for the king’s throat. Then he had the nerve to speak to me. “You are a witness to what can happen if you defy me. The seer will have company in her iron cell below, if you do not heed my words.”
I gaped at him.
“I order you, witch, to aid my cause,” Alban said. “I demand your allegiance to the monarchy. Your witchcraft will be used to secure my reign.”
I glared at him. “I think not, king.”
Alban’s pure white hair radiated, as if electrified. His pale skin had an unearthly sheen, and his eyes turned to glowing orbs. “Then…I will kill you,” he raged. “I will have you dead, before I will see you working for my enemies.”
I had no doubt that Alban meant what he said—and had no time to argue.
“I am fed up with your refusals!” Alban grabbed his scepter and lifted it high. I’d seen vampires heal from the severe burns his weapon caused. But I didn’t possess their healing ability.
It was time to wield a few of my advanced skills. I threw up an invisible shield to deflect the burning light. When it ricocheted off a barrier that he couldn’t see, the king bared his fangs. He flagged his guards, who began to close in.
I conjured fireballs and aimed at the approaching guards. Their clothing burst into flames, and they dropped to the ground to smother it out. Alban lurched for me, but I was having none of it. Those fangs of his were razor sharp, and I didn’t fancy them in my neck.
Using my ability for telekinesis, I lifted a golden chair and pushed it into Alban’s gut. The air went out of him, then I waved my hand. “You forget whom you dare to attack,” I said. “I am a sorceress…my abilities have been inherited through the centuries.”
Alban threw the chair aside and growled, his deep voice echoing against the walls. His yellowed fangs glinted under the lights.
“But you…” I stabbed my finger at him. “You are only a vampire.”
With that I vanished, teleporting back to safer ground. The king was in a bloodthirsty mood, and I’d had enough. It had been satisfying to flaunt my skills, and to drive home the point that he wouldn’t be able to coerce me over to his side.
But I had no intention of being part of Alban’s dastardly plot. Whether he won or lost, he remained death’s supporter. I couldn’t abide that, any more than I could tolerate his abuse of Nemuri. It was a crime to lock her up, and I was going to have right that wrong—as soon as I figured out what to do.
CHAPTER 53 - SELENE
I left the royal palace but did not return to my forest home. When I was beyond the mountainous region, I rested at the edge of a pond. Alban’s abhorrent behavior was not to be forgiven. I’d been pushed far enough, so would do my part to see that he got what he deserved. The king was a menace, a threat to his subjects and all living things.
The pressing issue was Nemuri. Whatever action I took, I’d need assistance. I was magic but not army trained. It would be no simple matter to extract my friend from her prison. If I knew Alban, he’d created one especially for her.
The king would ensure that she didn’t escape and do his best to prevent her from foretelling a future that he objected to. To him, it was treason that her predictions had been spoken in his presence. No doubt he’d forbid any visitors, plus take extra precautions with her security.
Nemuri was from a line of seers who had existed as long as Alban had. He was the current king, but she would be familiar with his predecessors. Seers had a talent for passing information through the generations. Alban’s affrontery to a seer’s skill, and his questioning of the validity of her forecasting, might have been expected.
The monarchy of Lumea was renowned for its death leanings, and its kings for their arrogance. Alban was the worst of the lot and was bent on destruction. He would argue otherwise, yet attacking an ancient seer didn’t speak in his favor. It was no wonder that no seer in the kingdom wished to serve him. He’d procured Nemuri by force, aware that she wouldn’t have responded to an invitation.
It wasn’t the first time that Alban had been insolent. He’d brushed off predictions before. And he exhibited little respect toward any other, viewing his skills as the only credible ones. But he had limitations, so depended upon others to compensate. That irked him, as evidenced by his behavior.
His predecessors had shady reputations, yet only Alban had dared to defy accepted protocol. Surely, a higher authority than he should be consulted about a seer’s fate. Yet Nemu
ri had been incarcerated unfairly, without any chance to defend herself.
I could not allow that; she was my friend. We shared mutual respect and had existed without conflict for centuries. On many occasions, we’d worked in unison, our purposes similar. Even if I had a disagreement, I honored her forecasts and had faith in her view of the future.
But not Alban. Not only had he rejected the message, he sought to silence the messenger. There was one place I could turn. Over the years, Silvain and I hadn’t seen eye to eye. Yet, on a more basic level, we’d found common ground.
The dark leader wouldn’t abide Alban’s flaunting the rules of propriety. He had flaws himself, and he didn’t have a reputation as a bleeding heart. But he wasn’t cruel for cruelty’s sake, and he had respect for a seer’s craft. He’d been the recipient of forecasts and had claimed to make good use of the insight.
There was a chance that Silvain would help me, and he had the force behind him that I lacked. He might commandeer a fighter faction for the purpose or threaten Alban in ways that I couldn’t. The king had successfully resisted the Dark Fighters, but maybe a lesser victory could be achieved.
I looked at the smooth surface of the pond, considering how to make my plea. The right approach could make the difference. The tranquility allowed me to recover from the scene at the palace. I would have been insulted by Alban’s attack, except that I just considered the source.
The king’s behavior was predictable; kindness or tolerance were not traits he possessed. Yet I continued to be thrown off guard by the extremes to which he would go. His treatment of Nemuri was shocking, and his attempt to kill me even more so.
Was there no limit to the king’s rage? I had my answer the instant I considered the question. Each time I’d witnessed his worst, he’d sunk lower. I realized with chagrin the depths to which the king would go. He forged ahead blindly to get what he wanted.
He’d have accepted an offer of my support without question, realizing the advantage. Yet he was just as quick to snuff out my life, if I didn’t agree to ally with him—or didn’t perform to his liking. After my departure, Alban had no doubt been livid.
