Blood and Ashes

by N M Zoltack

  “Give it to him,” Sabine said, her tone as cold as ice.

  Aldus struggled with all of his might, both physically and magically, but the guards held him down. There were four of them, but there might as well be eight or even ten of them. He was but one man, with magic, yes, but without a full awareness of his powers.

  Although he struggled mightily, Aldus was forced to lie down, several men sitting on his chest and torso, his arms and legs splayed out and held down. He could not even move his head as all eight hands were holding his head in place.

  He sought not to open his mouth, but his nose was pinched so tightly that he had no choice but to part his lips to breath.

  The liquid was strange, both hot and cold, but the moment he was forced to swallow as more and more liquid came, forcing itself to the back of his throat, nearly choking him, the feeling inside of him was of coldness and coldness alone. The cold was so entirely complete over his body that Aldus was not surprised he could see his breath nor that his body trembled and shook beyond his control.

  Slowly, he could no longer feel the hands of the guards nor the pressure on his torso and chest. Had they removed themselves, certain he would die, or could he no longer feel his body?

  Aldus managed to curl into a ball, and he stared at his palms. His fingers were turning from a deep red color to white.

  He was freezing to death.

  His body was shivering even harder now, yet his thoughts were slowing. He needed… So cold… A fire…

  Magic.

  Aldus drew everything within him to conjure his magic, to do anything with it, fire or anything at all.

  And he felt the flames.

  And with it, great pain.

  But the agony was refreshing in a way. Once again, he could feel.

  His fingertips were all that was ablaze, but he could feel a bit of strength return to his body.

  Enough that he could force himself to his feet.

  And he stared at Sabine.

  The two of them were alone in the room, which had been cleared out of everything, he realized. No food stores, no boxes, no furniture, nothing at all.

  “It worked better,” she mused. “Longer. You’ll recover, I suppose.”

  “Longer?” He could hardly get the word out.

  “Yes,” she said idly. “It’s been three days.”

  Three days.

  Three days.

  How had all of that lasted for three days?

  “I thought you might… You have magic. That is interesting. I assume Rosalynne does not know, does she? Hmm. A dragon would have his fire… I need even more… Yes…” Sabine smiled at him as she used to before. Before the scheming. Before the using of each other. Before the woman had designs other than becoming the sole Queen of Tenoch Proper. “Thank you so very much,” she cooed. “You have been most kind and cooperative too.”

  Aldus appraised her, thought about trying to attack her, but realized he lacked the strength. Besides, knowing Sabine, she had a guard waiting outside the room. While he was standing, that required most all of his strength as it was.

  “I want a bed and a feast waiting for me once I wake,” he attempted to growl. Instead, the words came out a whine.

  Sabine scoffed a laugh and waltzed out of there. A guard entered with a blanket, and Aldus heaved a sigh.

  He was alive, but one day, he would recover fully, and then, revenge would be his.

  26

  Queen Rosalynne Rivera

  The queen could not recall a time when she had been more disturbed. To learn that someone had taken it upon herself to give a dangerous potion to one of her prisoners… And Aldus was no better. The man had Bjorn beaten and tortured.

  At one time, Rosalynne might have thought that a just punishment for the man, but the longer the duration of the war lasted, the less Rosalynne wanted even more violence.

  She longed for peace.

  The door to the tea room opened, and Ulric entered, shutting it behind him.

  Rosalynne smiled wanly at him, turning away from the window to cross to the table. She did not sit but held the top of a high-backed chair. “Did you find Thorley?” she asked.

  “No, but I sent word out for him to be brought here immediately,” Ulric stated as he approached the table. Likewise, he did not sit. “It will be done.”

  "Good." Rosalynne suppressed a sigh. If her time fighting against the deceit and lies of Aldus and Sabine had taught her anything, it was that knowledge was more precious than gemstones.

  Unfortunately, Thorley Everett, the guard assigned to watch over Sabine, had not checked in with Rosalynne for some time, and a new worry washed over her.

  “What if Thorley is dead? What if Sabine used her potion on him?”

  “Bjorn survived even after being beaten,” Ulric muttered.

  “You do not like him.”

  “How can I after all he did?”

  “People make mistakes.”

  “He killed someone.”

  “I know, but… He went through something terrible twice while under my care.”

  “It was not your fault,” Ulric protested.

  “And yet it is. It happened while he was locked up on my orders and while he was within my castle’s walls. He should have been safe enough here, but I failed him.”

  “You cannot think this is on you.”

  “I can, and I do.”

  “You will not consider his request, will you?”

  “To join my army?”

  Ulric gave her a look.

  “I think you made the right choice by having Wilfrid watch over Bjorn for us,” she said.

  His full lips tugged downward. He was displeased with the change in conversation topic, but he allowed it. "He did a wonderful job as your guard, but that is now my position. He deserved another job of near-equal importance."

  “That is how little you trust Bjorn, hmm?”

  “Indeed.” Ulric flared his nostrils.

  “What is it?” Rosalynne asked, sensing there was more to it.

  “Did you see the way he was looking at me?”

  “I did notice that. Do you fear he means to harm you?”

  “I think… I think he might wonder if I am a rival for…”

  “For?” she prompted, but before Ulric could answer, there was a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” Rosalynne called.

  The door opened, and Thorley Everett rushed inside. His blond hair was all messy and haphazard, as if he had been tugging on the ends, and his blue eyes were a bit wild.

  “I have been looking for you,” he said in a rush.

  Rosalynne glanced at Ulric. “Has Sabine done anything to you?”

  “To me?” Thorley looked completely perplexed. “Not to me, but she has done something.”

  “To Bjorn, yes, I know.”

  “No.” The guard shook his head. “Sabine is not within the castle. At least, I have not been able to locate her. She waited until another guard had relieved me for me to rest for a few hours. When I woke, I came to see that the guard was sleeping. It was almost impossible to wake him, and when I managed, he said Sabine had given him a tea.”

  “She was gone?” Ulric asked.

  “I have been searching for her ever since, but there is more,” Thorley warned.

  “What is it?” Rosalynne asked. What more could there be?

  “All of her items are gone.”

  "Her notes, her papers, her ingredients, and vials? Everything?" Rosalynne asked.

  Thorley nodded. “I hoped to locate her before bringing this to your attention, but I—”

  “Thorley, you and two other guards must go and find her. As quickly as you can. Take horses. See if she took one. No matter what you do, if you come across her, do not drink or eat anything she might have on her person.”

  “Try not to smell either,” Ulric added. When the two looked at him, he shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible that a smell might affect a person.”

  “Any precautions yo
u can take against her would be advisable,” Rosalynne said firmly. “Do not underestimate her.”

  “Of course.” Thorley bowed and turned to go.

  “I would prefer for you to bring her to me alive,” Rosalynne said slowly, “but if she threatens you or the other guards… if you have no choice… do what you must.”

  Thorley bowed again and fled.

  Rosalynne exchanged a worried glance with Ulric, yanked out a seat, and sank onto it. So much for her not wanting less violence and more peace.

  27

  Valkyrie Horatia Ramagi

  Once that small town had been burnt to the ground, even the stones on fire, the dragon turned to the Valkyries.

  Follow my shadow.

  The Valkyries mounted at once as if one single person, and without even thinking whether or not she wished to obey, Horatia found her body complying. The dragon soared above them, the moon casting a shadow down on the ground, outlined by the silvery light of the night.

  An hour of easy-paced riding later, they arrived at another small town.

  Go on, then, the dragon urged.

  Horatia could hardly control her own body. She wished to swallow, but she could not. Her horse slowed with a touch of her hand, and she dismounted.

  Go and destroy this town in my name, the dragon said, his deep, animalistic, rage-filled voice echoing in their heads.

  Horatia gripped her sword even though she did not wish to even unsheathe it. She found herself marching with the other Valkyries onto the town.

  This one was much like the previous one—small and without any guards. The people took one look at the advancing warriors and screamed, racing away. A few grabbed whatever they could to serve as weapons.

  Tears streamed down Horatia’s face as her arms moved without her accord. Her body was not her own, and she shut her eyes as the blade swung. When she opened them, she cried that much harder.

  She had just struck down a defenseless woman in the back, but she was already moving, already pumping her legs and swinging her arms.

  It did not take long.

  The slaughter was complete.

  Horatia was not the only Valkyrie to weep.

  Liviana Papius was forced to light a fire, and she passed out torches to the other Valkyries. Horatia struggled to put her sword away, but no, her treacherous body held the sword in one hand, the torch in the other, and they lit every building they passed on fire.

  Even the animals, the cattle, the livestock…

  Once they were done, they marched over to stand before the dragon, still holding their swords and their torches.

  Perhaps you are not so useless after all, the dragon commanded in their heads.

  Horatia struggled to sneer, to say anything, to bite back, to throw the torch at the dragon’s clawed feet.

  But she could not even open her mouth, although she suspected highly that if she wished to praise the dragon or to ask the dragon for forgiveness, then her lips might move.

  Her mother and her mother’s mother had not officially been titled Valkyries, but they, just as Horatia had, had wished for their entire lives for the chance to serve the dragons.

  But not this dragon.

  And not like this.

  28

  Princess Vivian Rivera

  Sweat coated the princess’s body, and she shuddered as she wiped her forehead. That dream had been… both welcome and unwelcomed, both pleasant and terrible.

  In it, she had been talking and teasing with Marcellus as she had been since their paths had crossed yet again. It seemed that destiny or perhaps the Fates had it so that they were often thrown together.

  Was it any small wonder that she had started to develop feelings for him? Feelings she had no right to develop, given that the man was to marry her sister.

  Marcellus had not said when he would return to his warriors, but she supposed it should be in short order. They could not be left on their own for too long. Perhaps she should ask him about that when they broke their fast together.

  No. No, she should avoid being with the man as much as possible.

  In an effort to do just that, Vivian tracked down Ulric, which was no easy feat. Unsurprisingly, he was with her sister.

  “May I steal away your personal guard?” Vivian teased. “Not for too long. I promise to return him in one piece.”

  To her surprise, Ulric’s smile only grew, and his chest swelled, and Vivian realized her jest was not a jest at all.

  “Why do you require Ulric?” Rosalynne asked.

  “Roz, are you worried? I only wish to spar him. I won’t hurt him too badly.”

  “You will not harm me at all,” Ulric said before turning to Rosalynne. “Will you—”

  “There are other capable knights and guards here, or have you forgotten that?” Rosalynne’s smile was a bit wan, though.

  Hmm…

  In short order, Vivian and Ulric squared off against each other on the training grounds.

  “The comment Rosalynne made about the knights…” Vivian started.

  "The knight who slew the dragon is no longer."

  “He died?”

  “Forgive me,” Ulric said. He feigned to the left, and Vivian easily blocked the blow without hardly any effort. “He is no longer a knight.”

  “How could she have stripped him—”

  “She did not. He stepped down.”

  “Oh, my,” Vivian murmured. “And you? You have what you always wanted. You are Rosalynne’s personal guard. Is it everything you ever dreamed it to be?”

  Ulric’s nostrils flared, and for a time, they traded blows, and Vivian easily handled the man.

  She helped him to his feet, and they started again. Twice more, Vivian bested him, and when he squared up for another round, she shook her head and brought up her blade to rest against her shoulder.

  “Ulric, what is going on?” she asked.

  “There is nothing—”

  “Please, don’t do that. I thought we were friends.”

  “We are friends.”

  “Then you should be willing to tell me the truth,” she said softly.

  Ulric glanced away, and a muscle jumped in his throat. He swallowed and rubbed his throat, but still, he said nothing.

  It was not hard to imagine that his strife's origin came from her sister. Vivian had known for a long while that Ulric had feelings for Rosalynne. Oh, what a pair she and Ulric made. Both of them had feelings for one-half of the future rulers of Dragoona.

  “It’s Roz, isn’t it?” Vivian murmured. “Have you spoken with her—”

  “No,” he mumbled.

  “You should go and talk to her—”

  “No, she is not what’s bothering me.” Ulric slowly lifted his gaze from the grass to her face.

  “Then what is?” she pressed gently.

  Ulric worked his jaw a few times before admitting, “Last night, I had a dream about a woman I might have met before, might not have. I don’t know, but there was something familiar about her, and now, I can’t get her out of my head.”

  Vivian scowled. “Look no further than my sister,” she scolded. “You and her—”

  “There is no me and Rosalynne,” Ulric said simply, although his dark eyes flashed with anger, “or have you forgotten Marcellus?”

  Vivian lowered her blade to point her sword at him. “I haven’t forgotten Marcellus,” she said coolly.

  “Do not worry about me,” Ulric muttered. “I will not marry anyone.”

  “Nor will I,” she claimed.

  “Is that so? Because you would have to wear a dress, is that why?” he pointed with his sword toward her attire. She looked like a peasant boy with her tunic, short breeches, and boots.

  “Why would I want to marry? If a man should wish to tell me to do this or to do that, I shan’t stand for that, and you well know that.”

  “But if you could find a man who would not mind if you wield a sword…”

  “Is there such a man in Tenoch?”

&n
bsp; “I do not care that you can best me when I am not trying.”

  “Not trying, eh? Is that your excuse?” Vivian asked dryly.

  “Not an excuse. ‘Tis the truth.”

  “That so?”

  “You used to wear frilly dresses,” Ulric commented.

  “You used to be a servant,” she retorted, “and not one of my dresses were ever frilly.”

  “They were, and I was,” he said evenly enough, “but times change. Maybe you could wear less frilly dresses now.”

  “Or maybe we can spar again, and this time you try harder than you had before?”

  Ulric brought up his sword. “I’m ready when you are.”

  "Ready to be beaten you mean."

  And the two friends started to go at it again.

  29

  Prince Marcellus Gallus

  The air was a bit stifling inside the castle. The peasants had been moved to some of the lower levels, and everywhere Marcellus turned, he seemed to be tripping over someone. He constantly had to pardon himself and ask for forgiveness.

  This morning, Vivian had not been there when he broke his fast. She had been every morning until now. Instead, he had eaten all alone. Rosalynne was queen here, and she had so many duties to attend to at any moment.

  That guard of hers, Ulric… He didn’t strike Marcellus as a guard after all, not with the way he looked at her.

  The way Marcellus should look at her. Marcellus was the one betrothed to her, after all.

  He really should be returning to his people, but at the moment, Marcellus merely wanted to breathe in the fresh air. He exited the castle and walked a bit. Eventually, he spotted a guard who looked familiar—not Ulric but a different one—and asked if he happened to know where Vivian might be.

  The guard stared at Marcellus warily.