The Passage of Kings

by Anant V Goswami

  Diyana barely felt the pain from the dagger compared to the pain that engulfed her throat, and just before she felt life leave her body, a voice whispered to her, “Harduin bows to no one,” and then finally, her breathing came to a halt, and she died in a pool of her own blood.

  Chapter Six

  Kimbr Liongloom

  THE WAIT WAS becoming unbearable. Every morning, and every evenfall, messengers would ride in through the portcullis, and the fear of them bringing news of her brother’s death would hover over her like dark clouds. However, no news of her brother had reached Wildemere, in fact, Kimbr hardly knew what news the messengers brought as Krastin never indulged any details of the kingdom to her, just as she had feared. She had first felt anger directed towards her brother when she found out he was to venture into the Endless Forest without even saying a farewell. However, that anger had turned to hot rage when she learned that he had chosen Krastin to rule in his stead, and not her, his own sister, his own blood. But as the days went by, and the more she thought about the danger Olver would be in at the moment, her rage subsided, and worry took its place. She had gotten used to Kristin’s snide remarks, his insolence and even the way he ruled. But she never got used to the fact that one day, instead of the messengers, a few knights might trot in, bringing the corpse of her brother, or worse, remains of what his body used to be.

  Sitting by the large window, on the window seat overlooking the barracks and the kitchens, and plagued by thoughts of death, Kimbr Liongloom was a statue of beauty mixed with grief. She saw a few soldiers practicing their swordplay, while a few others sat under a thatched roof outside the kitchens, waiting for a server to wander outside and hand them a bun or something. A spiral of smoke wafted from the kitchen chimneys, and she knew dinner would soon be brought to her bedchamber by one of her ladies-in-waiting. The smell of roasted chicken and sweet buttered corn was already in the air, although Kimbr was not feeling particularly hungry. A knock on the door distracted her from her thoughts, as she averted her gaze from the happenings in the inner bailey and saw Sylvaine standing in the doorway, bereft of a dinner plate, which seemed strange to Kimbr.

  “Did you forget the food, Sylvaine, or have you come to regale me with tales of your new-found love, Harrik, the chef?” Kimbr jested with Sylvaine, who blushed at the mention of her secret paramour.

  “No, my lady, Lord Krastin requests your presence in the Black hall, he says he wishes to discuss a matter of utmost importance with you,” Sylvaine said, her head bent and her eyes staring at the ground.

  Kimbr felt her heart skip a beat. Had her worst fear come to light? “Is it regarding my brother? Is he…please tell me it is not what I am thinking” Kimbr’s said in an uneasy, almost fearful voice.

  “He would not divulge, my lady, however, I do not think you need to worry. There have been no new messages today.”

  “Lord Krastin has other means to receive messages than just messengers,” Kimbr sighed, “very well, I will meet him in a while, although I wonder what matter of importance has dragged him out of his bed at a time when he is usually lying drunk and naked on top of…well, you do not need to hear that, do you Sylvaine, although you would probably know.” A smile played at the corner of Sylvaine’s mouth, which she quickly concealed.

  Kimbr dismissed the young maid, and then proceeded to wear a grey woolen cloak over her silken gown of white, as she knew the Black Hall would be a cold and chilly place at this time of the day. She fastened the cloak with a diamond brooch shaped in the form of a prancing horse and tied her hair in a bun held in place by a pin that was similar in shape to her brooch.

  As she left her bedchamber and proceeded down the long corridor that ended with a spiral staircase leading to the Black Hall, she felt the autumn chill in the air and gooseprickles rose on her hand. The descent from the top of the tower to the Black Hall was a long one, and often, she encountered personal guards of the royal family, ladies-in-waiting of Ceilia Liongloom, and other servants tasked with various chores running up and down the steps, looking ruffled and nervous, fearful of the punishments they would be handed by the pitiless Lord Krastin and the terrifying Lady Ceilia if they would fall short of the work they were given.

  Finally, Kimbr reached the end of the stairs and swept her way into the Black Hall, which appeared regal and hauntingly beautiful in the moonlight that filtered through the vast glass windows on either side of the throne. The shimmery granite sparkled as if diamond dust had been sprinkled all over the black stone of the Black Hall, and stone faces of all the Liongloom kings carved into the massive wall behind the throne looked down on Kimbr like ancient sentinels, watching over their legacy with pride and longing.

  Kimbr found Krastin sitting on the granite throne, a sight that always left her seething. He was wearing a black robe over a black silk tunic, with golden embroidery at the collar and her brother’s crown resting atop his head. Kohl lined his eyes, and a necklace of black amethyst hung from his long scrawny neck. Beside him stood a man who Kimbr did not recognize. He was large in a muscular sort of way, barrel-chested, with a balding head, close-set brown eyes, and a square jaw. He was wearing one of the finest looking scale armor, without a sigil painted on the breastplate and a long sword hung from his waist, without a scabbard.

  “My lady Kimbr, you look breathtaking as always. I thank you for joining me at such short notice. I know you do not like to leave your chambers after sundown,” Krastin said with a smile and a mischievous twinkle, while the other man just stared at Kimbr with lifeless eyes.

  “Then there must be something important that you wish to discuss with me, uncle, for it is a long way down from my chambers and a longer way up and forgive me for saying but I do not like to make the trip so frequently.” Kimbr returned Krastin’s smile.

  Krastin shrugged, “I believe I have a solution for that problem, but before all that, let me introduce you to this man over here,” Krastin said, nodding his head in the man’s direction, “this is Sir Amos Dilley, a renowned knight from the court of King Sanrick and his sister Elsa Faerson. He brings us news that, frankly, has placed our family in a spot of bother. Sir Amos, why don’t you give Lady Kimbr the parchment, so that she can learn about the treason her brother has committed,” Krastin said slyly.

  Treason? What is this old fool up to?

  The beefy knight unclenched his fist, and a crumpled piece of parchment opened up like a flower in his hand, which he just held out in front of him, expecting Kimbr to walk up to him and take it from his hand. Kimbr would have relished playing this game of power, but presently she was too tired, and so she walked up to the knight and snatched the parchment from his hand, while he just glared at her.

  “Do read out loud. I would love to hear my nephew’s words again,” Krastin said.

  Kimbr flattened the crumpled-up parchment and instantly recognized her brother’s handwriting. Kimbr’s gaze fell upon the first line of what he had written, and instantly felt the world around her collapse into rubble. She began to read out loud:

  I write to inform you that Princess Elsa and I have come upon an agreement in the forest of Eravia, where we will be joining our two families and kingdoms in a marriage alliance. However, due to the task we have been handed by the council, and because we will be going to a place which is dangerous; our safe return is a matter of doubt and uncertainty.

  Hence, keeping in mind the need of unity and brotherhood which our two kingdoms shall require should we fail in our tasks, I order the announcement of our alliance to be made in Wildemere and Indius, irrespective of our return and the same shall be done in Harduin. Additionally, as a gesture of goodwill, Harduin will start exporting fish and other seafood to our kingdom, and we will be supplying their army with ten thousand soldiers, which shall comprise two thousand men-at-arms, a thousand mounted pikemen, two thousand mounted archers, and five thousand-foot soldiers, along with ten thousand gold coins, and twenty thousand silver coins. I order this decree to come into effect as soon as it reaches W
ildemere.

  Your King,

  Olver Liongloom.

  The bottom of the page contained the stamp of the royal seal, the word Liongloom written in black, flanked by two prancing horses. Kimbr just stared at the parchment for a few heartbeats, which were coming in pretty quickly in her chest.

  There is no way he just gave away half of the army, and half of the gold in the coffers, for a woman belonging to the kingdom of Harduin.

  “Staring at that parchment won’t make the words disappear, my lady. Yes, a marriage alliance was discussed many times in the court meetings, but never at the cost of our army and our gold. I guess my dear nephew got carried away by the charms of the ‘Queen of Roses’. I suppose it’s true what they say, Sir Amos, your queen or princess, whatever she goes by, truly does have a cunt that can start wars, or in our case, treason,” Krastin guffawed as he looked at Sir Amos, who stood silently with a stoic expression.

  “It is not treason until proven. A piece of paper proves nothing,” Kimbr snapped.

  “A piece of paper bearing the royal seal and His Majesty’s own handwriting is a lot more than just nothing. Anyhow, I will be deciding whether it is treason or not. Poor Sir Amos here had to ride all the way from East Shade in hopes of an army, but I suppose he will have to go back empty-handed, or perhaps he would like a taste of Indiusian women, although I am sure they won’t like the taste of him” Krastin sniggered once again.

  “We will have our army and our gold,” the knight spoke for the first time in a heavy voice, “ and then I will have a taste of your wife and this wench, even if they don’t like the taste of me.”

  “Be my guest; however, I will watch,” Krastin cackled, but this time his high-pitched voice reverberated around the hall.

  “You are a mad man. You have twelve days. After that, we want our gold and men, and you may have our fish,” Sir Amos growled and then stomped out of the Black Hall, giving one last look of disgust to Kimbr.

  An uneasy silence lingered between Kimbr and Krastin after Sir Amos’s departure. Kimbr stared blankly at the faces of kings on the wall before her. They stared back at her with a thousand different expressions. Some smiling, some in pain, and some trying to hide the pain that they must have endured while dying on the battlefield.

  Just how I need to hide my pain. I cannot let Krastin enjoy this more than he already is.

  “I will not believe any of this until I hear it from Olver’s mouth. Let us wait until he returns, and then the truth shall be revealed,” Kimbr finally mustered the strength to force the words out of her mouth.

  “And what if he does not return in the next twelve days?” Krastin leaned back into the throne, fidgeting with the oversized crown that kept slipping from his head.

  “Then we go on as if nothing happened. What can the Harduinians do?”

  “It is not what the Harduinians can do that bothers me, but what your brother might already have done. I hope you realize that by agreeing to this marriage and its terms without consulting his ministers, and chief advisor, your brother might have just crossed a line. How do you think the public will take this news? When they find out their beloved, righteous, ‘king of the people… for the people’ has sold half the kingdom to fuck a girl whose fathers and their fathers raped and killed their women and children over the centuries. I think I have a notion about how they will react to this little piece of information. They will want to see his head paraded through the city on a spike,” said Krastin in a voice that barely contained his happiness.

  “And won’t that make you hard, you piece of horseshit,” Kimbr howled. She knew what was happening. She understood the game that Krastin was playing, and it filled her with fury.

  “Is that how you speak to your uncle? Don’t forget that you are still a child, and I am your king for the moment. Next time you raise your voice, I will chop your tongue in a thousand pieces, and have it shoved down your throat,” Krastin threatened, and then spoke in his usual soft, velvety voice, “Now, the news of this alliance will be shared with the people. And then, a court meeting will be held to decide the future course of action. Until then, you are under arrest for being too close to the king, and perchance a partner in your brother’s treason.”

  “What?” Kimbr knew Krastin was a cunning old man, but she had not expected this. Royal guards of the king stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the hall and moved towards Kimbr.

  “No…this is madness…you have no right to…”

  “You will spend the coming days in the dungeons, until either your brother returns, or I have decided what is to be done with you,” Krastin’s voice rose over Kimbr’s as two of the royal guards clutched her wrists with brute force.

  “You will regret this, uncle. You might think all your dreams are finally coming true, but I swear they will turn into nightmares very soon.”

  “Slap her.”

  Thwack! Her cheek sizzled and burned. She felt the guard’s hand before it even touched her. The abruptness of it, more than the force behind it, made her fall to the ground.

  “Then I will relish this dream as much as I can, while it lasts.

  ∞∞∞

  The dungeons of the ‘Strawberry Castle’ were never intended to imprison humans, in fact, they were never intended to be anything more than vaults of rock and steel, used to store grains, wheat and sometimes gold, when the incomes of the kingdom grew so large that the coffers could not hold the extra income. But for hundreds of years, the coffers never reached full capacity, and the production of wheat and rice fell so low, that the kitchens were enough to store the produce. One thing that did increase were the cases of thefts, rapes, murders and along with them, prisoners awaiting their trials. The Tower of Crimes, a windowless stone tower, painted all in black, with a buttress carved in the shape of gargoyles, specially constructed to imprison criminals, overflowed with men and women who awaited their fate, some dying before their trial even took place. And as a result, the council decided to start using the dungeons, a massive labyrinth of stone cells, bathed in darkness and home to rats, rodents and snakes, as a place to house some of the most dangerous, evil and ferocious offenders of the land.

  Kimbr had only been to the dungeons once when she was eight, and still believed in ghosts and fairies, and vampires that dwelled in the dark. The experience had been traumatic for her, but as her father said, it had to be done. She remembered being brought to a cell with iron bars and a low slanting roof, with cobwebs hanging from the corners and some reaching the ground. The memory played in her mind as if it happened a few days ago. Her father had held her hand as she looked upon the face of an old woman, with wiry thin hair and droopy eyes, wrinkles dominating her face and scars in the shape of small stars lining her forehead and scrawny arms. She had donned a battered old tunic, and nothing below, and her eyes had pierced Kimbr, as if the woman was searching her soul. However, Kimbr did not remember feeling scared, in fact, she had felt a wave of calmness wash over her.

  “Say what you must, woman,” her father had growled.

  “My lady Kimbr, a Liongloom, a daughter, a girl,” the woman hissed through gritted teeth, “but as brave as a man, you are, yes, and as dutiful as a son you shall be, yes…swords and shields shall be your brother’s life, but you…you my dear Kimbr, shall flirt with magic, and dance with fire and swim with krakens,” the woman’s face lit up with a youthful energy that defied her appearance, “but at the cost of love.”

  “Is that all?” the king had inquired.

  “Yes, and no, depending on when you wish to take my head, your grace.”

  “Then that is all.”

  The face of the woman floated before her as she presently descended the hard-cold steps of the dungeon. Her bare feet felt the dust that had accumulated over the years, and often she would feel something furry scamper across, brushing her ankles every now and then. Tears glistened in the corner of her eyes, but her lips were pressed into a thin line. She knew whatever that was happening was a fleeting discomf
ort, and soon, her brother would arrive at the gates of Wildemere and free her of her misery. So, she had decided to be strong; however, as she moved deeper into the dungeons, and came across the first cell, her strength started to falter. She saw grizzly old men, with torn tunics and shriveled cocks, and bony women with wrinkled thighs, stuffed into cells big enough for one, peering at her from the corners of their cells, their sad, gloomy faces and yellow crooked teeth illuminated by the torches on the walls. She realized she was in the dungeon where men and women were imprisoned for life, where day and night were one, and time crawled like a turtle.

  The guard in the royal armor, who held her by the elbow, halted in front of an empty cell, one that was eerily similar to the one where the old woman from her childhood was imprisoned. She tried to recognize who the guard was, so she could starve him to death in one of these cells when her brother returned, but a barbute covered his face, with only his blue eyes and part of his thin lips visible from the ‘T’ shaped slit in the helm.

  “Enter,” the guard growled.

  Kimbr obeyed and entered the small dingy cell that was to be her new home for an unknown period of time.

  “Strip your raiment.”

  No, this cannot be happening. I heard him wrong.

  “Strip, or you will be stripped.”

  “Your true king is Olver. He appointed you to his royal guard, he fed you, he clothed you, most of all, he loved you all like brothers. He is your commander,” Kimbr’s voice shook with rage.

  “He is a traitor who sold the kingdom to lay with a Harduinian whore. And he did not give me shit. I was appointed by Lord Krastin. The former royal guard was chopped up, and their pieces were thrown in the river. They must have washed up on some forsaken shore by now.”