Crownless

by M H Woodscourt

“You won’t have him.” Aredel’s tone was frigid.

  “You can’t keep my son from me.”

  “I can keep anything and everything from you. You are a lowly queen of a KryTeer province now, my lady. I owe you nothing, but you owe me everything you wear, eat, breathe, or even think. That you live is proof of my tolerance. That I do not allow you to see your son is my prerogative.”

  Heat swept through Bareene’s body, burning her eyes, perspiring on her brow. Her limbs shook. “You will not keep my own son from me!”

  “But I will.” Aredel’s lips curled in a wicked smile. “Will you not ask me my reasoning?”

  Her teeth clenched. “Why then?”

  “‘Why then, Your Imperial Highness’—that is how you will address me, Queen.”

  “Why then, Your Imperial Highness?”

  “That is better. It is for two reasons. The first is your treatment of Jinji, who is my friend.”

  Bareene’s eyes widened. “That ill-bred waif?”

  The ice in Aredel’s eyes glittered. “Just so. My second reason is traveria. While I can understand discontentment within the institution of marriage, I find it offensive to murder one’s own spouse. Should I discover such plotted treachery in my own harem, I would consider it cause for severe punishment.”

  Bareene threw out her chin. “How dare you accuse me again of such an act! And to compare me to a KryTeer harem—”

  The Blood Prince laughed. “I do so enjoy your display of piety. Never fear, my lady queen. You are not compared to a KryTeer harem, for your own habits are not so exclusive as that, and I would not sully the women of my House so. Ledonn.”

  From the shadows stepped Prince Aredel’s armored attendant. He bowed. “My holy prince?”

  “See that the queen is escorted to the dungeon. For Jinji’s sake, allow Bareene to bid her son farewell. On the morrow, Lady Queen, you will die.”

  A chill swept from Bareene’s head to her toes. “B-but I’ve done nothing to warrant—”

  Prince Aredel raised his hand. “We will not discuss the ways in which you have warranted my decree. Suffice it to say, I have had others executed for lesser sins.” His eyes were cold. Glacial. As impregnable, as heartless, as a great fortress. The finality of his tone crumpled Bareene to her knees.

  “Holy Prince of KryTeer, do not condemn me to death. I will serve you faithfully. I will please you—”

  The prince’s attendant pulled her to her feet. “This way.”

  Jinji pushed past her. “Aredel, you cannot kill her like this. Consider mercy.”

  The prince’s voice carried across the room. “I did, for your sake. But it was not enough, Jinji. Not even your pleas will spare her. Keep your strength for better fights.”

  Bareene wrenched against Ledonn’s arms. Bruises formed against her flesh; his grip was a vise. She threw her head back and screamed: “Curse you, Blood Prince! Curse you to the deepest depths of two hells! The One God will smite you!”

  Laughter rang in her ears long after she was dragged from the Hall. Along a stone corridor. Down a flight of narrow steps. Into the rank passage of a dungeon.

  “This way, Lady Queen.” Ledonn pulled her through another short passage to a rotting wood door. He pushed her against the filthy surface and slid open the eye portal to let her see into the cell.

  Five figures huddled within the straw-strewn chamber. All raised their heads to study the door. There. Jetekesh leaned against the far wall.

  He leapt to his feet, eyes wide. “Mother?”

  “Jetekesh, my son!” She tried to slip her hand between the bars of the tiny window. Only her fingers could reach inside.

  He stumbled past his fellow prisoners and hovered near, but he didn’t stretch for her touch. “Why are you here, Mother?”

  “I came to take you home.” Tears pricked her eyes. “Jetekesh, my little boy, the Blood Prince has sentenced us to death.”

  Ledonn chuckled. “Not the prince, Bareene. Only you.”

  Jetekesh’s eyes widened more. “Death? But why? You sold Amantier to KryTeer. Why would he kill you?”

  Tears rolled down Bareene’s cheeks. “Because I wouldn’t give you up, Jetekesh. Because he knew I would make you emperor of KryTeer. That was my plan all along, you see. You do see, don’t you? I did all of this for you, my baby boy. I groomed you to be the greatest ruler in all Nakania. Not just a king. Emperor, Jetekesh! You would rule all!”

  Jetekesh searched her face. “Liar. You foul, greedy liar.” He took a step back. “You wanted to rule through me. You would do anything to control the world. You murdered Father because he was in the way. You don’t love me, Mother. You only love you. What of me you do profess to love is what you crammed into me. I hate you. I hate you.” He turned away. “I’m glad you’re going to die. I’m glad.” His shoulders trembled.

  Bareene stared. Tears dripped down her cheeks. For a moment she thought of lying, of telling him all the things he wanted to hear, but anger teemed inside her stomach. “Fool. You foolish, foolish boy! Just like your father. I could have given you the world, but you chose to run—run away from all I offered. Yes, I would use you. Of course I would. What else is a child good for? But you could have enjoyed the fruits of my labor. All you had to do was let me lead you. Stupid child!”

  His shoulders hunched. He shrank into himself. How ugly he looked in the weak light. How filthy, bruised, battered. He’d grown so thin. So feeble. Nothing of herself remained in that fragile creature. How disappointing.

  “My daughter would not have failed me,” she whispered.

  Jetekesh whirled. His eyes flashed like lightning. “Your daughter is dead!” The fury died. Pity swelled in its stead. Horrid, humiliating pity. “And so are you,” he said in tones too calm to be right. How could he be calm? She had been sentenced to death. Would he let her end this way?

  Traitor. Fool. Her tool was broken.

  “It seems you’ve lost, Bareene.”

  That voice.

  She tore her eyes from Jetekesh. There, older, careworn, but still the cut of a strong man. “Palan?”

  The knight smiled grimly within his dungeon cell. “Your son will be king, Bareene. I will see to that. But he will not rule beneath your thumb. He will be greater than ever you could make him, and he’ll do it without subterfuge or treachery.”

  He dared to mock her? Oh, how he had always mocked her! That noble-hearted, saintly, pious man. The only man she’d ever wanted and never obtained. With a piercing scream, she lurched at the door. Splinters stabbed her fingers as she clawed at the wood. “Let me in there! I will not let him treat me so! I am queen! I AM QUEEN!”

  Ledonn held her. She hollered and shrieked. How had it come to this? How had she lost everything on the very threshold of gaining all?

  That storyteller! Everything had gone well until he appeared in Amantier. First her husband and then her son had fallen under his spell. Even the Blood Prince wished to protect that wretched peasant. She would kill him!

  She sank against the Blood Knight. He sighed and bent to lift her in his arms. She shoved hard against him. The man stumbled backward.

  Bareene bolted down the corridor.

  The next corridor.

  Up the stairs.

  She had always been a swift runner. She could outstrip most in a contest. Though she heard the thundering of boots against the stones behind her, she smiled to herself. She would reach Jinji before Ledonn reached her. Bursting through the doors of the Hall, she sought the Blood Prince. There, still speaking with Jinji. Triumph rolled through her like a strong drink. She sprinted forward, feet light in her slippers, nails raised like claws, torn and bloodied.

  Die. Die, Jinji!

  His spell must break! Jetekesh would be hers again. The Blood Prince would see reason. The world would right itself.

  Jinji trotted toward her. The Blood Prince looked on, calm, heedless of danger. The fool!

  The storyteller was so near, so very near.

  His eyes danced w
ith pity, just like Jetekesh.

  “Curse you, curse you!” She reached up to choke him, claw out his eyes, tear him to shreds.

  Pain bloomed in her chest. She looked down. A blade protruded from her dress, red with blood. A sword. But how? She had beaten Ledonn. The Blood Prince was still yards away. Jinji stood before her, unarmed, eyes wide. He reached out and caught her, eased her to kneel against the floor.

  “Hush, shh.”

  Tears burned her eyes. Looking up, neck craning, she found the second Blood Knight, Shevek, just behind her, the sheath at his hip empty. The blade in his hand dyed red.

  “I’m dead?” she whispered.

  Jinji stroked her cheek. “You are dying, Lady Queen.”

  She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his throat. Squeezed. He gently pried them loose.

  “No need, my lady. I will die soon too.”

  She gasped for air. “Good.”

  “I am sorry for you,” he said in such gentle tones, like a murmuring brook.

  She coughed a laugh. “Why?”

  “Because you didn’t mean to become what you are. But you realized so late what you were becoming, and you thought it was impossible to change. You were wrong to think so, but no one told you as much.”

  The pain was fading. She could hear him still, but Jinji’s voice was far away.

  “Stay away from…my son…”

  “I cannot promise that. But I do promise to aid him, my lady. To save him from your fate if he will let me.”

  She tottered. The ceiling lay before her now. Darkening.

  “Be at peace, my lady.”

  “I hate you,” she whispered.

  “I forgive you for it.”

  She reached for anger, but numbness answered. She couldn’t lift her head. Couldn’t find his eyes. “Curse you.”

  “That has already been done.” A warm hand caught hers. Gently squeezed. “Rest. You will soon leave this world.”

  Her eyes burned hot. Blurred. “Not yet.”

  “We cannot choose our time. But I understand your fear. I cannot promise your end will be sweet. But you must go just the same. Do not linger, Queen. This world is not meant for the dead.”

  She spat out a bitter laugh. It tasted like iron. “This world is not meant…for the…living either…”

  She closed her eyes. Felt herself falling. Falling.

  Fallen.

  24

  The Drifting Sands

  “You truly know the art of making enemies, Jinji.” Aredel strode forward to stand above the dead queen. He smiled. “I confess I feel better about her death this way. Execution is far too formal and far too public, and I face enough of that in KryTeer. I had hoped she would be foolish. In the end, she did not disappoint.”

  “So I thought,” said Ledonn, as he moved from the back of the Hall. “And she looked so furious, I suspected she might wish to vent.”

  Shevek laughed. “Chivalrous as Cavalin of old! Are you certain you were not simply careless, Ledonn?”

  The other man smiled. “She was clever, but not clever enough. To presume she could outrun a Blood Knight if he wished to catch her? Ignorant sow.”

  Aredel knelt beside Jinji, prompting his men to lower themselves to the floor. The Blood Prince rested a hand on the storyteller’s shoulder and felt it tremble. “Jinji, my friend?”

  The Shingese man lifted his head. Aredel started. Tears tracked down his face, and his smile looked broken. “I weep for this woman, as I wept for my mother, Aredel. Both were selfish, ambitious, loathsome creatures, incapable of love or kindness. Who could be more pitiable than they?”

  “No one,” said Aredel to soothe Jinji. Personally, he found such creatures undeserving of pity or mercy or any other tender feeling this peculiar, kindly soul could give. Yet that’s what set Jinji apart from Aredel. He wouldn’t want the humble man to be any other way. “Come, my friend. You’ve wept long enough for her damned soul. Let me introduce you to someone who deserves your smile. I believe the two of you will be friends, though it may cost me something to allow it.”

  He offered his hand and pulled Jinji to his unsteady feet.

  The storyteller’s eyes shone through his tears. “Did you bring King Jetekesh with you then?”

  Aredel chuckled as he shook his head. “Never can a man surprise you, O astute one. Could you not pretend ignorance now and then?”

  Jinji laughed. “My apologies, Aredel. But I recall well the price of deceiving you.”

  Memories flickered in Aredel’s mind, warm with nostalgia. “How you grate upon a man’s patience. I wished at that time to skin you and wear your strange eyes for jewels.”

  Jinji’s laugh was like the crystal chimes of Rahajardaj Temple back home. “Do you not now wish the same upon occasion?”

  Aredel shrugged. “The thought does cross my mind in your stubborn moments. I suppose you expect me to honor your word and let Prince Jetekesh attend you in the desert?”

  Those bright eyes glittered with nothing short of cunning. Had circumstances been different, had fate not made Jinji live the life of a shepherd, Aredel almost feared the course the storyteller might have taken. Surely their paths would still have merged, but under far uglier conditions than what they’d been. And that was a feat.

  The Blood Prince led Jinji from the Hall, Shevek and Ledonn following. The procession strode up into the west tower of Keep Falcon, and to the westmost chamber. The King of Amantier sat upon his bed when the Blood Prince stepped into the room.

  “How do you feel this morning, Your Majesty?”

  King Jetekesh shrugged. “Your Imperial Highness, I am better. And my son?”

  “Brooding, I suspect. I am here about another matter, though it does relate to your son.”

  King Jetekesh arched his eyebrow. “Indeed?”

  Prince Aredel stepped aside and allowed Jinji to slip past him into the room.

  “Greetings, Your Majesty.” Jinji touched his hands together and bowed at his waist.

  The king’s faint smile broadened until his teeth showed. “It has been too long, Jinji.”

  Aredel blinked. “You know each other?”

  Jinji nodded. “We met once when King Jetekesh visited Shing at the end of the Amantieran occupation. He and his guards reined in at the lake near my home, on their return to Amantier, and I told them stories while they camped for one night.”

  “Quite the tales they were, too,” said King Jetekesh with a chuckle. “I dearly loved to hear of the poor lost knights.” He shook his head, smiling at his own thoughts; but the smile slipped, and his eyes flicked between Jinji and the Blood Prince. “It appears, Master Storyteller, you are acquainted with all the great powers of this world. Most impressive for a shepherd. My wife, alas, does not care for your stories; she won’t be pleased to see you when she reaches the keep.”

  “She already has, Your Majesty,” said Prince Aredel as Jinji’s smile fell. “Upon her arrival, your late wife attempted to murder Master Jinji, and so my men dispatched her. I would offer my condolences, but I doubt you perceive my news as a loss to yourself, except perhaps in the matter of justice. But you will understand when I say that my orders dictate none shall harm those under my protection, and Jinji is my friend.”

  The king stared at the Blood Prince for several heartbeats. Disbelief lined his eyes and set his jaw. He bowed his head and fingered the fabric of his travel tunic. “She is dead. You’re certain?”

  “Quite.”

  “And my son?”

  “Alive. He has given me no cause to alter that yet, and Jinji speaks on his behalf.”

  King Jetekesh’s brow drew together. “Why would you speak for my son, storyteller?”

  Jinji’s gentle smile returned. “You have a good-hearted boy, Your Majesty. He is confused, but he wishes to do right. He believes you are dead, and his grief has been terrible. So too has been the depth of his torment upon learning of his mother’s treachery. I want to help him in any way that I may.”

&
nbsp; The king nodded, eyes lowered in contemplation. He swallowed and looked up. “What happens now, Imperial Highness? I’ve long wondered what you intend in all this. I had thought to confront my own wife concerning all she’s done, and I’d spent the week coming here planning my strategies. It seems, however, that you have your own schemes, and I must ask what fate you would weave for my son and myself? It must be something grand to spare our lives.”

  Prince Aredel cupped his hands behind his back. “It is true that I have been scheming. I always scheme, Majesty. In truth, my purpose in keeping you alive was to spite your lady wife, but as I nursed you, my desires deepened. I have saved you, and thus you owe me shamalheer—a life debt, you would call it, I think.”

  The king’s eyes narrowed further. “Go on.”

  “I require one service of you, King Jetekesh, and then I shall call your debt repaid. But it is a matter to discuss at another time. Tomorrow Jinji must enter the Drifting Sands and your son will attend him per the storyteller’s request. We too will go and wait upon the border of the desert.”

  “Everyone within the dungeon must come with me,” said Jinji. “They will not be left here to sicken in the dark below.”

  “They think you’ve betrayed them, Jinji. They won’t want to go with you.”

  Jinji shook his head. “It matters not. Let them come.”

  “I told you no once before.”

  The storyteller’s lips tugged in a smile. “This time say yes. It is really that simple.”

  Aredel laughed and shook his head. “Only you, shepherd of Shing, can persuade the Blood Prince of KryTeer to undo what he commands. But I will accede because you are my friend—and because I am curious. We shall all attend you to the border of the Drifting Sands, and there we shall learn what you are all about.”

  The light in Jinji’s eyes brightened into a twinkle. “Do not presume so much, Friend Aredel. You shall see only what you shall see.”

  Subterfuge was no longer necessary, and so the flags of Keep Falcon were replaced. Amantier’s banners were folded and stored, and the Winged Sword of KryTeer was raised to stream in the wind. The soldiers around the keep removed their silver armor and donned the bloodred of the Empire. Keep Falcon had been the southern torch of KryTeer since it was taken three years before by the Blood Prince’s men under the very nose of the snooping Sir Palan. It pleased Aredel to at last reveal his handiwork.