The Age of Knights & Dames

by Patrick Harris

  “Sounds like you have practice with this sort of thing,” I joked.

  “There is no rest for the wicked, and as a result, for the virtuous. We must never tire to do good. There have been many assailants in my few millennia here. There shall be many more. The mage, his magesty before him, and our seer have all foreseen many threats beyond Edith’s attempts. Truly, it is as my late King Richard said. The isles of Dembroch and its sister kingdoms will always have enemies seeking to penetrate its walls and take its treasures.”

  I froze in my tracks, abashed.

  “Sister kingdoms?” I repeated.

  “The Arx,” the queen said matter-of-factly. “There were seven.”

  “Were?” I stammered. A second later, I read between the lines and made an assumption: “For their treasure?”

  The queen nodded.

  “Do we have treasure?”

  “Ours reside in the Reliquary,” replied the queen, “the tallest room atop the tallest tower’s balcony.”

  I gaped at her. “But…what’s in there? What treasure—?”

  “Keep up, Sir Nicholas,” the queen called back as she walked on. “There is still much for you to learn.”

  She promised to answer my questions in the coming days and insisted we enjoy the fruits of our labor in the present, so I bit my tongue and we walked for a while longer, following the flowers to the eastern walls, taking in the renewed beauty of the kingdom. There was a haze over it, like the olden days we’d seen in the library. Magic was all around us, in every breath. I beamed, knowing what my friends and I had accomplished, but my heart grew heavy thinking of all those we had barely known and lost too soon. If only the librarian and the mage could have seen it. If only Edith had lived long enough to enjoy it.

  “We should have a service for your sister,” I decided.

  “You are too kind, Sir Nicholas,” the queen said. “I fear that only you and I would be in attendance.”

  “Let’s do it then,” I said. “Right now.”

  I knelt in the flowers and plucked two bright orange tulips, offering one to the queen. She held it out as if to a ghost, tears forming in her eyes.

  “My sister,” the queen said. “May you find solace in the quiet. Forgive me my sins as I have forgiven yours. Rest well, my sweet sister, and be free of your curse.”

  The queen’s flower blossomed before my eyes and, as though tugged from her fingers, the flower drifted away on the wind.

  I held up my flower in the same fashion. Though I had only known the cruel witch, I spoke to the little girl I had seen from the history book, young and full of love for her family.

  “May you be everything you hoped to be,” I said. “Peace be with you.”

  My flower, too, bloomed and was tugged from my fingers. It danced off lazily, as though the ghost of a young girl held it, lost in its simple beauty.

  As we watched them go, the queen slipped her hand into mine. I held it tenderly.

  “You saved her,” the queen said. “And you saved me.”

  I shook my head. “You saved yourselves. I just laid around, having a heart attack, while you did all the hard work.”

  Queen Coralee laughed. It was a sweet sound I wanted to hear plenty more of.

  “You are more trouble than I could have ever imagined,” she said.

  “And you more cursed,” I replied with a laugh.

  We grew near to one another. I longed to kiss her.

  “We must proceed with caution,” the queen said. “We are of different stations. The Civium, particularly Master Malleator, will not approve of such mingling. And there is my decree to consider. A royal’s word is law on Dembroch.”

  “Meghan told me Master Malleator knows about your decree when we first got here.”

  “He has already spoken to me. He expects me to keep my word.”

  “Stickler,” I grumbled.

  A smirk teased the edges of the queen’s lips.

  “When it’s time,” I finally said, “I’ll go. Dembroch needs its queen more than it needs me.”

  There was a spark in the queen’s eyes, a surprise, a gratitude. She squeezed my hand tighter and leaned in for a kiss. My ragged little heart beat faster. My body flared in pain, but I didn’t care.

  Suddenly, there was a shout from Amaranthine. Clay came into view, pointing to the south. We turned to see a ferry slowly approaching the isles.

  “The Civium,” the queen breathed in surprise. “They have returned.”

  She took off at a gleeful run. I chased after her, pushing through the pain of my heart, sensing that I was chasing the queen across the kingdom and through life. I knew there was a long road ahead of us, notwithstanding my impending exile, but for a pained heartbeat or two, I felt that the queen and I hoped for the same thing: that somehow, someway, we could be together and see where the future led. I wasn’t sure how, given her decree and her royalty and my lack of titles, but I dared to dream I would catch her. After all, what’s a chase without a bit of struggled and what’s love without a bit of hope?

  CHAPTER 59:

  One Last Promise

  It had been nearly a month since we’d saved the kingdom. The castle was a bit fuller. There were plenty of new faces and names that I struggled to remember. I was starting to lose track of the days—timelessness does that—but a new fear had grown in my heart. With forty-some Civium returned, the kingdom was well-staffed and the queen was in little need of us anymore. It didn’t help that all of us had been inspected by the healers and, despite Clay and Jenn’s love curse and Meghan’s still unhealed witch’s mark, they had been given clean bills of health. I too had been healed. After much manipulation, the healers had placed a spark of magic into my heart, mending it fully so it would continue to beat strongly even beyond the scope of Dembroch’s timelessness. Which meant I could leave. We all could.

  I knew it was coming—so did my friends. Our time on Dembroch was running short and we rued the day that was surely coming soon that we would finally be dismissed.

  I tried not to let it get me down too much. It was how every great story went, I lamented. The heroes saved the day, received much thanks, and were sent home with the promise of returning another day when the helpless were in need again. Even if I had to leave, I knew—well, hoped—that I would see Dembroch again someday.

  One evening with my friends gathered together by a fire, I shared this fear.

  “We’ll have to leave soon,” I surmised.

  Clay hung his head. Meghan bit her lip.

  “I figured,” Jenn said.

  “There was still so much I wanted to do,” Clay said. “Help out the Watchmaker…”

  “Learn some magic,” Meghan added.

  “Restart the Praesidio,” Jenn said.

  “Maybe catch the king’s killer,” Meghan said—she’d obsessed over this idea since I’d told her my conversation with the queen in the flower garden.

  I couldn’t bear to say what I still wanted to do on Dembroch, though my mind jumped to the queen and the kiss we had missed.

  “Where will we go?” I asked. “What can we possible do after…?”

  My friends looked as unsure as I felt. None of us could return home to our day-to-day routine after everything we’d done and everything we’d seen. Our youth was alive within us, our thirst for adventure unquenchable. Maybe, I dared to wonder, there were other kingdoms out there, other hidden islands, with quests and monsters and exploits.

  But none of them, I lamented, would compare to Dembroch. None of them would be tantamount to the queen.

  There was a knock at the door. When I answered, there was no one there, but there was a scroll attached to the door handle.

  I brought it to my friends and unfurled it. My healed heart thudded heavily. I felt like I could have cried though I was a full grown, thirty-two-year-old man.

  Scrawled in the queen’s handwriting was a summons. She expected to see each of us next day in the throne room.

  “This is it,” I reali
zed. “She’s sending us home.”

  I didn’t blame her, I realized. But I ached for the chance to stay. To keep chasing after her.

  Meghan reached out and grabbed my hand. I grasped Clay’s shoulder. Before long, we were holding one another in a circle of kinship. I looked to each of my friends and felt a surge of pride and love. We had been through quite a storm together. We’d saved a kingdom and had our fair share of scars and burdens to prove it. None of us were unscathed, but at the end of it all, our friendships had been restored. Once separate, we four friends were together again.

  “Wherever we go,” Meghan said, “it’ll be together.”

  “Promise?” I asked.

  “Promise,” they all said.

  And somehow, I knew, it was a promise everyone would keep.

  CHAPTER 60:

  A Fond Farewell

  We gathered at the door to the throne room the next day at noon. Exchanging glances and steeling ourselves for the worst, we knocked on the door.

  The seer appeared from within. She glanced us over with a surprisingly focused, stern expression.

  “Where are your garments?” she asked.

  We were dressed in common white clothes of visitors.

  “Your armored garb,” she said. “Where are they?”

  She hurried us back to our rooms where clothiers handed us dark blue tunics with golden filigree designs. The garments were heavy on my chest, like a bulletproof vest.

  I felt awkward in the armor. It was the color of the kingdom’s defenders, and we had been stripped of those titles long ago.

  When we had returned to the throne room’s door, the seer paused and gave us an uncharacteristically warm smile.

  “Are you ready?” she asked.

  “No,” Jenn said morosely. “Are we going to die?”

  The seer threw open the door and ushered us in.

  As I passed, she gave me a dry smile and said, “You will not go the way of Solomon.”

  Not letting the compliment soak in, she prodded me forward, her face becoming distant and dreamy once more. I stepped inside, thinking deep about failed knights and what my friends and I had accomplished, and—I gasped.

  The throne room was packed with every Civium who had returned. A dozen trumpeters burst into an exultant melody. The masses erupted into shouts and cheers, parting to form an aisle to the front of the throne room. And there, standing over us all, was Queen Coralee.

  The seer poked me in the back, prodding me forward. I led my friends to the front of the throne room. As we went, Civium gave us smiles and claps on the back. There was the Watchmaker, Page Trey and his master, and even the seer’s daughter, Emily. She gave me a toothy grin, one just like her father’s. I beamed with pride, but my heart sank with each step. I had not expected such fanfare and did not want to be sent home with every eye watching, most of all Page Hybore’s family.

  At last, we gathered in a line before Queen Coralee. She surveyed us as she had done when we’d first met in the prisons: shrewd eyes, looking slowly from one to the next, assessing our appearance and potential.

  “It is a glorious day to celebrate,” she announced, silencing the trumpets and buzzing crowd. “The darkest day of Dembroch has past and it shall stand the test of time forevermore. Omnia Aeterno!”

  “Omnia Aeterno!” all of the Civium cried, knocking their fists on their chests.

  “But it is not without loses,” the queen declared. “Many have fallen. Many fled and never returned.”

  There was mumbling of agreement through the crowd. Some cast dark, suspicious looks at the queen.

  “It is high time that I am honest with each of you,” the queen continued. “This disaster was because of me. I was brought to this kingdom as a Hospite. I was cursed.”

  A shock of whispers swept through the Civium.

  “But you took me in as your own,” she continued. “For that, I will be forever grateful. And, truly, it opened my eyes to the kindness and awesomeness of this kingdom. I vowed to raise up this land with all my power. Even when the day was darkest, I sought to help you before I helped myself.”

  A smattering of applause echoed through the throne room.

  “The witch who attacked this kingdom was my sister,” Queen Coralee revealed. “She sought to ruin Dembroch to bring about my curse. As a result, the kingdom suffered, and for that, I am eternally sorry. Many of you feared crowning me would lead to Dembroch’s ruin, and your fears were not unfounded. But my loyalty to this land never wavered. I sought, in everything I did and everything I do, to maintain our kingdom. If you will have me, I wish to continue guiding you and this glorious kingdom into a new era of beauty and healing.”

  There was no delay, no pause. Everyone let out a cheer. Queen Coralee wiped a tear from her cheek.

  “And if you wish to stand by me,” she said, “I welcome each of you back and reinstate your titles. We shall rebuild together, seeking out Hospites and healing the afflicted. We shall be a light on the hill for the world once more. Will you stand with your queen?”

  Another cheer, louder than before. The broken and bruised spirits seemed to be healing over. Only Master Malleator seemed to be uninspired, though, to his credit, he wasn’t booing.

  “We are one again,” the queen observed. “But we would not have this future without the four before you: Ladies Meghan and Jennifer, Sirs Clayton and Nicholas. Civium, look upon your saviors and show them your appreciation.”

  I felt like a deer caught in the headlights. The entire kingdom erupted into joyous celebration. Trumpets and bells rang. They cheered, clapped, shouted, cried. They seemed so thankful. It was awe-inspiring.

  “Their time on Dembroch grows short,” the queen continued. “We must celebrate them this last day and send them off with full bellies and happy hearts.”

  For the first time, the crowd seemed to grow quiet. There were murmurings and raised eyebrows.

  Then, the Watchmaker stepped out of the masses.

  “I object, my queen,” he said. “Sir Clayton slayed the Dreadnaught with the fortissium blade and braved the weapon’s beastly guardians. He saved my life and was instrumental in saving the kingdom at the brink of destruction. Such a joyous warrior and shrewd thinker should not be banished.”

  Clay’s face was bright red.

  But then, the seer stepped forward too.

  “Lady Jennifer recovered my Sight, tamed its power as her own, and changed an immutable future,” she declared to the queen. “She has earned title of defender. I object to her exile.”

  There was a great cheer from the Civium. My heart beat fast.

  Page Trey pushed past Master Malleator and walked up the aisle. His voice quaked with nervousness as he spoke.

  “Queen Coralee,” he said. “I beg your forgiveness to object your decree. Lady Meghan navigated the Gate Grounds and freed Ryderwyle from a storm started by her predecessors. She saved my master and I. She is a strong fighter, peaceful, patient, and generous. We need her.”

  The room buzzed. Everyone seemed to be waiting for someone to step out and testify to my abilities, but I knew it wouldn’t be the queen. She could not show favoritism to a visitor, particularly one she’d promised to banish.

  Silence came over the crowd. My heart beat loud in my ears.

  But then, I heard the tiniest pitter-patter of feet. I turned to see little Emily, daughter of the seer and Page Hybore. She walked up to me and took my hand. With big eyes, she looked square at the queen and spoke clearly.

  “I object, Queen Coralee,” she said. “My father gave his life to find Sir Nicholas and his friends. He knew that they alone could save the kingdom. And he was right. Sir Nicholas freed three sisters from dreadful fates and ended the curse that could have destroyed our home for all time. But the most important thing he ever did was accept the summons. Promises are difficult to make and even harder to keep. He could have ignored our call or dismissed my Papa, but he answered the call. He laid down his own life to save this kingdom. Sir Ni
cholas is a defender in his heart, no matter his title or station. He should stay.”

  The throne room erupted with noise. Some cheered, others shouted, “Here, here!” Many began to cry, “We object!”

  The queen raised a hand, calling for silence. She gave me a wry smile, and it was then that I realized this had all been the queen’s plan.

  “I hear your calls,” she said. “As queen of Dembroch, my word is law unless overturned by the people. Do each of you object to my ruling?”

  There was a mighty cheer of defiance.

  Queen Coralee beamed.

  “Then, on behalf of the kingdom of Dembroch, in agreement by its royalty, aides, and Civium, I renounce my previous decree. As is within my authority, I extend the offer of your titles and citizenship for this kingdom. Should you wish it, you may call Dembroch home all the days of your life.”

  My friends and I exchanged glances. None of us had expected this. I gaped, my heart thundering in my chest.

  A purple-gowned aide brought forth a small wooden box and opened it for the queen. Within were four gold-flecked, black medallions, a castle inscribed in a ring of flames.

  The queen plucked one of the medallions from the box and held it before Clay.

  “Sir Clayton,” she said. “For joy in the face of despair and bravery amid absolute horror, I reinstate your knightship. Do you so swear loyalty to the kingdom of Dembroch and fealty to your queen?”

  “I do, my queen,” said Clay.

  He knelt to one knee. The Watchmaker let out a whoop and holler. The queen knighted him, placing a sword on each of his shoulders. When he stood, she pinned the Dembroch sigil to his chest.

  I gaped. Clay was a knight again. We would all be defenders again!

  Next, the queen addressed Jenn.

  “Lady Jennifer,” she said. “Fear is a powerful enemy, yet you faced it and, more, conquered it. For optimism in the face of our darkest hour, I bequeath upon you dameship. Do you so swear loyalty to the kingdom of Dembroch and fealty to your queen?”