The Changeling

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by Jennifer Lyndon


  “When he gently took my hand, to lead me to his bedroll, to consummate our newly formed attachment, I knew I had no choice but to react. I cautiously removed my hand from his and turned to leave. He was instantly in front of me, blocking my path. His arms were around me in the next moment, and his mouth gagging me with the flavor of lust tinged torppa and mustard seed. I twisted my head away, already fighting him, but he was extremely strong. He tore my tunic open to the waist, and again his mouth was on me. I kicked him hard enough to break away for a moment and moved toward the edge of the tent, determined to tear my way through it if I had to, but he grabbed me from behind, lifting me, carrying me over to his bedroll. He threw me down, and began tearing the back of my trousers open.

  “I managed to turn over under him, while reaching down into my boot for the knife I keep there. I brought it up too fast, dealing a minor wound to his stomach. That’s when he started beating me into submission. He knocked my knife out of my hand, and began punching my face and abdomen. Instinctively, I protected my head with my arms.

  “After a while the blows to my body stopped. And then he was telling me he was sorry, as his lips were moving over my bruised and broken ribs. He again began pulling my trousers open at the waist, tugging them down. When his weight shifted slightly so he could lower his own trousers, I stretched, and just reached my knife with the tips of my fingers.

  “I didn’t slice at his stomach this time, but his throat. I nearly severed his head, my knife finally embedding in his spine, as blood pulsed over me in spurts. His hands were at his throat quickly, as he frantically pulled at my knife trying to remove it, but the blood was coming too fast for him to heal. He bled out on top of me.”

  “M’Tek, I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

  “He didn’t manage to rape me, but his diseased blood found its way into my eyes, nose, and mouth. That’s how I was infected with the Diminishing Sickness,” she explained. “We still didn’t know why his hair had turned white at that point. It took another five months before the first of the Lemu started dying of what looked like extreme old age. By that time, I already had the beginning of white streaks growing through my dark hair. I knew I was infected with the plague, and that I would eventually die from it.

  “It’s unknown how my father contracted it, but he’s probably who gave it to my mother. Regardless, they both died a little less than two years after Rad’Ik. By that time my hair was coming in completely white, and people, especially the Lemu, were dropping like flies.”

  “No one ever questioned why you lived?” I asked.

  “I think the survivors were too relieved that one member of the royal family was left standing to hold everything together. Everyone knew I was sick, that it was only a matter of time until I died. It was true chaos for a while, especially in those early years,” she said with finality.

  “How old were you?” I asked.

  “When I was crowned, eighteen,” she replied.

  “You were so young,” I said, astonished she had managed to keep her plague ridden country from dissolving around her.

  “You were crowned at seventeen, my love,” she pointed out.

  “And I had you,” I said quietly. “I had your protection and guidance. I’d have died a hundred deaths, before ever getting close to my throne without you,” I reminded her. “You had no one, M’Tek.”

  “I have you now,” she said. “And when it counted most, you were there to save me.”

  I wrapped my arms around her, gathering her to me. She always felt slighter in my arms than the formidable Queen I knew her to be. She sighed, lowering her head to my shoulder as her arms tightened across my back.

  “As much as I hate the thought of returning to that awful masquerade, we really should. Or, at least you should. No one will care if I don’t return,” she surmised.

  “I’d rather sneak away with you,” I confessed next to her ear.

  “You really ought to put in another hour. You’re the only one with blond hair at the masquerade. They’ll notice if you don’t return,” she observed. “It might be taken as an insult.”

  “You’re right, of course,” I agreed, accepting the weight of the evening ahead of me. “Are you heading up to bed?”

  “Let me help you with your mask,” she said instead of responding. I stood as she carefully lifted my mask across my face, channeling the bindings over my ears, and tying them behind my head. “I’ll walk back with you through the garden,” she offered from behind me. I leaned back against her, enjoying the warmth of her. Her arms encircled my waist.

  “I’m exhausted,” I admitted. “Sometimes I doubt my ability to carry the weight of all these obligations.”

  “I know, my love. I can’t be of any help with your Vilkerlings though, at least not socially. But don’t stay with your guests too long,” she said close to my ear, her breath honeyed from berrywine and tickling the skin of my neck. I wanted to crawl into bed with her and sleep for a week, but duty awaited me. “I could work for a few hours on some of the administrative issues, and wait up for you.”

  “You’re sweet to offer,” I said. “But don’t worry about it. Get some rest. I’ll try not to disturb you when I come to bed.”

  She took my arm, still playing the part of the well-mannered Vilken nobleman, and escorted me past the maze and through the garden. At the doorway into the party, we parted, M’Tek walking slowly along the east wall, as if half asleep already. For a moment I simply watched her, enjoying the way she moved, her walk almost a swagger. When she rounded the corner, disappearing from my view, I took a deep breath to fortify myself, and stepped inside to rejoin the party.

  I was only a few feet beyond the threshold when a tall, elegant, Vilken nobleman approached me. He bowed, lifting his hand to offer a dance. I accepted, allowing myself to be led into the middle of the ballroom. I had no idea who my partner was at first, but as the dance progressed, I recognized the unique, bashful, grace of Kolten. As the song concluded he bowed to me again.

  “How have you been, Kolten?” I asked as he walked with me toward a less crowded corner of the ballroom.

  “You recognize me,” he commented with a tight smile. “I’ve been well,” he replied. I forced a smile, picking up something strange in his tone and manner, a sort of severity I was unused to from him.

  “The ceremony to raise you to High Lord is scheduled for next week I believe,” I observed, making conversation.

  “Yes, it is,” he replied. “We were once friends, were we not, my Queen?” he asked so quietly I was almost unable to hear him.

  “I hope we are still,” I said, smiling at him. “Have I lost your friendship, Kolten? I hope not.”

  “Will you talk to me, the way you once did, away from all of these people?” he asked. “We could walk in the garden, if you’re willing.”

  “Certainly,” I agreed. “I need to visit with some of my other guests first, but if you’ll find me in half an hour, we can talk,” I said, assuming he wanted to discuss his sister.

  Kolten bowed low, and stepped away from my side, freeing me for my next dance partner, and more mindless conversation. I circulated through the room for nearly an hour before Kolten returned to claim me. I accepted his offered arm as he led me from the ballroom through the side door, and out into the garden. We walked in silence for a while before he worked up the nerve to speak again.

  “Did you ever really consider me a potential consort, or was it all a diversion?” he asked. That wasn’t the question I was expecting.

  “I’m not quite certain how to answer you,” I replied. “Are you asking if I had feelings for you?”

  “I’m asking if you pitted me against Lord Roland as a means of distracting my fellow Vilkerlings,” he said, his voice hard. “Did you use me to conceal your affair with the Fae Queen?”

  “No. What an imagination you have, Kolten,” I observed with a chuckle. “I never needed you for that,” I replied, still smiling. “I honestly was trying to decide between you and Lo
rd Roland for a time, until I recognized your sister as a liability,” I added.

  “My sister the traitor,” he said with more ire than I expected. “You’ve ruined her, my Queen.”

  “She ruined herself, Kolten,” I said, my tone a warning. “Kieran tried to kill me. You know that. You were there.”

  “She was only trying to capture you. No one intended to kill you that day. They were only trying to protect you from the Fae Queen,” he snapped. “The witch promised she could break the love spell that Fae creature holds over you, if they could capture you.”

  “Why did you stand with me? Why didn’t you fight with your sister?” I asked.

  “Because I didn’t know. Kieran was trying to protect me in case they failed,” he said. “I didn’t even know she was with the Borderlings until after the conflict. I found out when the Fae soldiers started digging through the corpses, searching for her body,” he added.

  “And if you’d known?” I asked.

  “I’d still have fought for you, my Queen, but beside my sister,” he whispered. “We might have prevented all of this.”

  “All of what?”

  “The Fae have free run of Vilkerland now. We’re hardly more than the conquered territory of the Fae Queen. It’s common knowledge that she rules you, and this land in your stead. We’ve even lost the Western Noge Territory. You’ll never produce a Vilken heir as long as you’re in thrall to that Fae creature,” he spat. “This nightmare must end. I have no choice in what I do.”

  “No choice in what?” I asked, curious about his unusual wording. “What will you do?”

  “Did you ever have feelings for me?” he asked, his voice rising, as if he were afraid.

  “I’ve always liked you, Kolten, but if you and I had joined, it would have been an empty partnership,” I explained. “I’ve only ever loved M’Tek.”

  “Then it’s true. It wasn’t ambition. You didn’t join with that creature because she was sick and dying. You weren’t after her throne,” he said with quiet finality. “Kieran was right. The Fae Queen has trapped you with a spell.”

  “Please, stop speaking, Kolten. You’re putting me in a difficult position,” I explained. “I understand why you’re upset with me, but…”

  “You understand nothing,” he spat back, interrupting me. “That Fae witch has taken everything from me. She’s made fools of the Vilken people. I would have been your royal consort. Instead, I’ve lost my sister, and my honor. And you think a higher title and more land will repay me?”

  I saw movement, and the glimmer of light reflecting on polished metal as he drew a stiletto knife from a hidden sheath at his hip. As quickly as a snake strikes, he lunged at me. My body reacted before I could consider my actions, and in the next instant I’d seized the knife in Kolten’s hand and turned it, using his own momentum to bury it to the hilt in his side. I pulled the knife free of his gut before sweeping my leg across his ankles, knocking him down. I pressed one knee into his chest, holding the bloody knife at his throat.

  “Shiroane!” I called in a raised but calm voice. “I need you,” I added in Fae, certain none of my guests would understand.

  Within seconds Shiroane was running toward me, three of my guards at her heels. When she reached me, she glowered down at Kolten, bleeding and panting under my knee. He looked pale, as if he might be in shock. His hand was pressing his side, as he tried to stem the profusely gushing blood leaking around his long pale fingers.

  “What happened?” Shiroane asked.

  “He stabbed me,” I replied calmly, as I ran my fingertips over the shallow wound in my side, noting the bleeding had already stopped.

  I heard footsteps running toward us, and raised my head to see M’Tek sprinting across the garden. She was still wearing those dark, ornate Vilken pants, and her white shirt billowed around her. She appeared disheveled, her buttons out of order, her shirttail hanging, and her feet bare. In her hand she held the knife she kept in her left boot. I stood, handed the stiletto knife to Shiroane, and quickly turned to catch M’Tek by the shoulders before she was within range of Kolten. I knew if she reached him, he’d be dead in seconds.

  “Calm down,” I said gently, trying to avoid more bloodshed. “It was only a scratch. I’m fine.”

  M’Tek’s scowl shifted from Kolten to me, softening as her gaze traveled over me, pausing at the tear in the left side of my gown, and the small amount of blood staining it. She was checking to make certain I was telling the truth. Once satisfied, her menacing glare returned to Kolten. Shiroane roughly dragged him to his feet, as the other three guards surrounded him.

  “This Vilkerling is to be taken to Lareem tonight,” M’Tek ordered, rage evident in her voice. “We’ll leave as soon as the horses are tacked. I’ll deal with him there.”

  “No,” I said calmly. “Kolten is my subject, M’Tek, not yours. He committed a crime against me, within my realm. I will decide what to do with him.”

  Shiroane appeared uncomfortable, as if uncertain which Queen she should be obeying. M’Tek appeared driven to spill blood. I realized Kolten might actually be safer at Lareem; three days ride from M’Tek, if I could manage to convince her to stay in Vilkerdam. That was unlikely.

  “Shiroane, please escort Kolten to a cell beneath Vilkerdam. I want two guards on him at all times. No one is to harm him physically,” I commanded.

  “This Vilkerling is wounded,” Shiroane pointed out. “Would you have him treated?”

  “Yes, of course, but only after he’s secure in a cell,” I replied. “Take him around to the north entrance. Be careful of my guests. I don’t want any notice taken of this,” I added.

  “I understand, Lore,” Shiroane said.

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  I stood and watched as Kolten was led stumbling away. He’d lost quite a bit of blood, and seemed to be in shock. After they rounded the corner, my attention settled on the dark stain marring the grass where he’d fallen. I wanted the stain washed away but knew I’d only draw attention to the incident if I ordered this. My gaze shifted to M’Tek, standing beside me, quietly waiting. Clearly, she was furious.

  “How many Vilkerlings have tried to kill you so far?” she asked in a voice tinged with passion.

  “I honestly don’t know,” I replied, not taking the bait. “I haven’t kept count.”

  “You need to allow me to handle this,” she said, covering her anger more effectively.

  “And what would you do?” I asked. “Would you kill him? Would you torture him?”

  “I might,” she admitted. “If I deemed it necessary.”

  “Necessary for what, M’Tek?” I asked. “He was no real threat.”

  “I don’t want you eating anything that comes from the kitchens here,” she observed.

  “Aunt Kessa controls the kitchens, M’Tek,” I argued. “She may not feel overwhelming affection for me, but she doesn’t want me dead. I’m not in danger.”

  “You are in extreme danger among these savages,” she argued. “It terrifies me greatly that you don’t see it, and even more so that I didn’t see it sooner.”

  “It’s too cool outside for you to be without shoes,” I said, instead of arguing with her. “Come, let’s go up to bed,” I added, taking her arm to lead her away from the bloodstained grass.

  “Give me leave to interrogate your prisoner,” she demanded, refusing to budge.

  “Not tonight,” I said. “We’re both tired. All I want now is to fall asleep in your arms.”

  “You will give him to me,” she said sharply.

  “You’re probably right,” I agreed. “You’ll have him, eventually, but you’re not getting anywhere near him tonight,” I added.

  She seemed mollified by my statement, and allowed me to lead her away from the bloodstain, and back toward the south entrance. I didn’t want my guests to see M’Tek in her disheveled state. I took her hand, and her fingers tightened against mine to the point it almost hurt.

  “There’s something wro
ng with these people,” she said close to my ear as we walked. “They’re too violent.”

  “Says the woman who came running from the palace with a knife,” I chided gently. “They’re no more violent than you are, M’Tek.”

  “I’m violent when someone threatens you. I’ll not deny that. I might have killed him if you hadn’t blocked me,” she added. “But I don’t attack unarmed people without reason.”

  “He had a reason, and a noble one at that,” I replied. “He wants to save Vilkerland. Kolten’s a patriot. He believes you’ve used some sort of love spell to gain control over me, and in the process, Vilkerland,” I explained. “I don’t really think he wanted to hurt me. He said he had no choice.”

  “What do you think?” M’Tek asked as we crossed the threshold into the palace.

  “About what?” I asked, confused by her question.

  “Do you think you only love me because of a spell I’ve cast upon you?” she asked.

  “M’Tek, I’ve dealt with enough insanity for one night,” I said. “Don’t start doubting me just because I repeated the mad ravings of an incompetent assassin,” I added.

  “But Pet told you the same thing, Lore,” M’Tek said, as we began climbing the stairs.

  “What are you talking about?” I snapped. “Please don’t compare what Pet said to this lunacy. She was only trying to keep my mind off the danger you were in.”

  M’Tek opened the door to our rooms, and stood aside, waiting for me to enter. After I passed through, she closed the door, and leaned back against it. I turned to face her, noticing for the first time the fear in her eyes.

  “That’s not what Pet was doing,” M’Tek observed.

 

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