by Juliet Lili
“Do not worry, your words have touched me deep enough to burst the dam of my uncontrollable emotions. At least you are not crying with me like how Ingrid does.” Her mother gave a choked laugh, moist pooling in her eyes. “She cries out of guilt and confusion whenever I scold her, and it happens to be one of those days I am overwhelmed with everything.” Nara relaxed at her mother’s words. “Good thing she’s asleep then” Nara referred to her eleven-year-old little sister.
“How uncaring I am for not asking how your journey was although your wounds give me the impression that it was not altogether pleasant.” Kami pointed.
Nara sighed tiredly and recounted the days she had been gone while she did her hair in one long braid for the night. She shortened the story and only retold the first days they arrived at Latrell, how one young man, crippled from the waist down left her with a great impression after seeing his determination to learn anything just to protect his mother and two young brothers and farm from rustlers. The young man had turned out to be great in archery. He reminded her of herself when she was a recruit, terrified yet excited at the prospect of being a soldier. Her face soon turned dark when she retold of the unfortunate events that happened in Latrell. Sadness settled on her mother’s face.
Kami sighed softly like she too had faced a great ordeal the days Nara was absent. Then finally in a tender yet strong voice Kami spoke, “Why don’t you take a rest from your work and stay home for a while. Your father and I will be happy if you do that. Ingrid will surely love to have your company around. She has been missing you a lot.” At the words, the image of her restless father pushed forward into her mind. Nara lifted her head from the tail of her hair which her fingers were busy braiding and met her mother’s gaze. Nara knew something was wrong, she could feel it. She searched her mother’s expression.
“Is whatever troubling you and father have to do with what happened in Latrell?” she asked, uneasy weight settling in the pit of her stomach. Her mother’s lips thinned and shook her head slowly. Nara took in how her mother placed her hand on her swollen stomach and rubbed it delicately like she was afraid the weight of her hand would injure the little being growing inside her.
“You do not need to worry about your father and me. You know how complicated court matters can be as always. However, what occurred in Latrell, I can’t bury it in my mind. It makes me worry for you even more.” Kami placed her hands on hers and squeezed tightly briefly. “Mmmh… It will please me if you consider it. Now please rest you must be exhausted.” Her mother stood up from the bed and placed a chaste kiss on Nara’s forehead before walking out the door.
Lies. It was more than mere court matters stressing her father. Still, when she pondered what the real problem might be, her head refused to cooperate, her temples throbbed. Nara could no longer withstand the sharp jabs pricking her skull. She had little strength left to exhaust over thoughts. Nara let out a deep breath and strode to the lamps sitting on the counter shelves she typically kept small mementos she collected in her travels. Nara blew the flames, sending the room into darkness and went straight to her bed. Before she knew it, her eyes closed to sleep.
Chapter Ten
Kalil Kingdom
Horrid dreams plagued his sleep again. Tonight, he wore the ceremonial robe of gold and black with the jeweled crown on his brownish gray head as he walked across the fields of his kingdom. His lands were desolated, not a single building or creature could he see. His legs were heavy and sore, feeling like he had walked for hours, the sun his only companion. The cloudless sky remained silent until a flock of crows stirred it as they flew in circles, cawing in angry choruses that threatened his ears to bleed. He forced his legs to pick up pace desperate to leave the area before the crows’ cries bled him from his ear to death. It didn’t help, their cries echoed and trailed behind him and then abruptly stopped altogether into a plunging silence.
Good riddance, he mulled but paused when it became eerie quiet. His abused ears strained to catch even the smallest sound.
Out from each corner of the earth, a gust of wind carrying the stench of death poisoned the air. The repugnant smell churned his stomach as it threatened to suffocate his lungs. The nauseating feeling in his belly stringed his bowels to a noose and had him gagging. It clawed up his throat and brought him to his knees. Pale eyes teared from the foul odor as they observed the blue-sky shift into great stormy clouds in mere seconds. Clouds opened and showered the grounds with blood, soaking him. He struggled to gain his stand, his mind forced his lungs to work, to breathe, he parted his lips and tried to breathe through his mouth, only to gurgle the heavy raining blood.
Blood splattered onto his face, dripped onto his chin and hit the ground. Anxiety and fear had him trembling. Eyelashes wet with blood fluttered open and shook in horror as the ground opened and spat corpses, grave worms crawling on the dead forms. He recognized the dead bodies. They were his people, his advisors, soldiers, men, children, and women. Arrows and swords sprung forth from their limbs, some were even headless.
A thunder of horses and stomps of marching soldiers coming from afar followed by a terribly monstrous sound rang loudly in the air. Abasi whirled around to the source of the sound, coming face to face with Lorenz the King of Murisa perched on his horse in the front row of his army that surrounded him with his pet, a giant gray wolf. Abasi stumbled backwards from the sudden appearance of the other king and stared at him. He tried to form words but his mouth was full of blood, he ended up sputtering the metallic fluid.
Lorenz smiled wickedly, his gaze filled with malice. Abasi warily watched him forth from the line and circled him tauntingly.
“You were always a naive friend, just like your forefather thinking there could be two rulers. There can only be one king.” Lorenz sneered at him as he stood before him. Even his horse looked at him with vileness while the other beast snarled and growled low. Abasi trembled with fear, for the wolf was terrifying you would think he was Fenrir himself.
From the corner of his eye, Abasi saw his only son Nikolas held up in the air in tattered clothes by Lorenz’s sorcerer. Nikolas’ back propelled forward, his hand flailing beside him as he whimpered in agony.
“Please…please don’t harm my son” Abasi pleaded desperately barely getting the words out of his mouth. His head whipped to the shriek cries of his son as the sorcerer in a white robe smeared scarlet clamped his hand and ripped the life out of Nikolas before his body joined the pile of corpses. Pain so unimaginable consumed his heart and rippled through his entire body. Abasi screamed as tears rolled down his face.
“You see, He won’t leave you until everyone is under his command. Pay heed to my words and act. Do to his people as he has done to yours.” The dark, insidious familiar voice wrapped around his mind and filled his skull. He clutched his pounding head with trembling hands. The giant gray wolf suddenly leaped at him, its paws clawed his chest, and sharp teeth gnawed at him. He shrieked and cried from the ripping of his flesh, his whole body thrashing and fighting the wolf.
***
Abasi started from the nightmare with a sharp gasp, his pulse beat frantically against his ribs as a cold sweat ran down his spine. His eyelids opened to darkness before accustoming to the dim light. The bed chamber was closed in darkness only the fading flames from the lamps at the far end corner burned. It cast shadows in the room.
He hoisted his upper body to a sitting position using his elbows, but a strong hand pushed him back unto the sticky sheets damp from his sweat. Something sharp like a claw stung his chest, making him groan and wince. Defensive instincts kicking in, he seized the shadowed figure’s hand with one hand while his other reached for the short dagger he always hid under the pillows.
“Who are you?” Abasi demanded and pressed the dagger against the shadowed figure’s neck, with enough pressure to slice the person’s throat from just a stir of movement.
“Your wife”, came the raspy reply as she straddled him slowly heedful of the dagger biting the skin of her throa
t.
Abasi squinted his eyes and peered at Dagny. She was naked. The dark flame outlined her curvaceous hips, brown hair that curtained her ample breasts and the angle of her jaw. Her smooth porcelain skin seemed to gleam under the soft light. She was beautiful than the day he’d married her and changed. Compared to his first wife, Dagny was less timid and more unchaste, cunning that it scared him from time to time...
He withdrew his hand and let the dagger fall to the floor with a thud. Her pink lips lifted slyly as he felt her skillful fingers brush his covered thighs teasingly and moved upwards to where she straddled him lower on his pelvis. Her fingers reached between their pelvis and held him there. Abasi sucked in a breath and became still. He was naked beneath the sheets and already knew what his wife wanted yet his torso quivered with anticipation.
Dagny tugged at the sheets between them which kept her from her prize all the while watching him with heated eyes. She pushed the expensive silk sheets aside and took him inside her, whimpering from the feel of him.
She moved on top of him, and Abasi groaned in response his eyes losing focus.
...But he liked this unfamiliar side of her it quenched his wicked carnal needs. It gave him an escape from nightmares at bay. She’d ride him until his whole body ached from exhaustion and begged her to stop. Grabbing her hips, he thrust harder into her, and her fingers dug painfully into his chest as her lips parted with a deeper moan. He growled low and thrust even harder, surrendering to the euphoric sensation rushing over him.
Long after their coupling, Abasi laid on his back, looking up at the intricate lines of the ceiling, his strength depleted and exhausted from his wife’s demands. He glanced briefly at her, his gaze travelled leisurely over her body, the silky sheets sprayed over her figure while she slept. He wished he had the strength to take her again. To be between her legs, thrusting inside her roughly like she always enjoyed. Sucking her nipples and biting them as inappropriate words deemed wrong for a noblewoman and more so for a queen flew from her mouth into his ears.
He ruefully smiled. Now, he was not too confident he would be able to stand upright on his two feet without collapsing. He was no longer a young man with a healthy physique and durability, his body needed time to regain energy. A loud knock rang in the quiet room.
“What?” Abasi demanded, irked at the person who dared to bother him in this dark hour.
“Forgive me Your Highness for disturbing your rest, but the General has requested your presence,” the intruder said. The intruder was no other than Luka his steward.
Rising, Abasi shoved the covers aside and got off the bed. His legs which were still weak almost gave under him the second they landed on the cold floor. He briefly rested his weight on the bed then searched for clothes to wear when he felt some strength rush in his feet.
What sort of news does Schmerz have with him tonight? Did they succeed in their mission? His mind ran wild with fear and apprehension at the thought of the pressing matters awaiting him out that door as he wore a pair of black trousers and a long-wrinkled shirt and boots. He was nervous that he did not care about the state of the clothes he wore.
His wife stirred on the bed and sleepily looked at him. “Where are you going?”
“Schmerz is back and has requested my presence, but you need not worry. You have your rest” he replied, touching the top of her head before stepping out of the room.
“The General is waiting for you outside your private study your majesty” Luka informed him as they walked in one of many long halls of the castle, one step behind him. Mid-sized iron torches hammered on the spotless walls of the building brighten their way.
“Is he alone?” Abasi looked at the old white-haired man who had served his late father when he was on his throne. The man had many wrinkles even on his eyelids. Abasi was amazed despite the old man's age, he was still walking mighty and well while his own father was buried deep down in the ground. His bones being eaten by worms and insects.
“He was alone when I left him your majesty” Luka replied, his voice meek as of a dutiful servant.
They took a turn for the left wing where his private room was located.
The General stood alone outside the study room. Abasi stopped when they neared the room and stood a foot away of the General fully armored from neck to his feet only free of his helmet and horse.
“That is all Luka” Abasi dismissed the man as he looked at the stern face of Schmerz. He did not even hear Luka’s parting words nor his steps when he left from the loud pounding of his heart that drummed in his ears. Abasi opened the door and let Schmerz step in first, so he can light up the torches in the room with the candle he held. The room had a wooden table with two polished wooden chairs. It also had shelves stacked with written scrolls and vital records. Abasi walked towards the round wooden table that had maps and scrolls on top of it. He turned around and motioned for Schmerz to draw closer. Schmerz blew out the candle and strode to where he was.
“How is everything progressing?” Abasi inquired with confidence and authority although his insides shook from the trepidation overwhelming him. He was extremely nervous he was on the verge of throwing up. The last time he had felt this way was when he descended on the throne. When he did not know how he would govern his people despite being taught the ways of a ruler and the matters of the kingdom when he was just a little boy. He knew why he was quivering like a dry leaf in a strong wind, going to war against Murisa terrified the wits out of him.
“Your orders were carried with success your Majesty” Schmerz replied holding his gaze with confidence it was almost intimidating.
Abasi was sure if he were cut from the same cloth as other petty rulers he knew, who demanded every person under them to cower in their presence, he would have already ordered Schmerz to be beheaded. Schmerz was unlike any General. Little terrified this hulk of a man. However, Abasi had a theory. A well proven theory that if you subjected your people to grovel before you, they would lick your boots when you are seated on the throne long enough for them to overthrow you in the cruelest ways.
A small smile of victory was working itself on his lips but was trampled by Schmerz sobering words. “The team that was sent have all fallen except for the men who monitored with me from afar.” Abasi slammed his fists on the table as anger and sadness for the fallen burned his chest. He violently wiped the contents on the table. Books and maps thud, the ink bottle clang and ink spilled onto the polished wooden floor. His hands shook the table, his chest heaved rapidly as he fought against the rage spreading through his bones.
“May they find rest in Valhalla” Schmerz said solemnly.
“We should have waited a little longer for our people in Murisa to return home before launching the attack,” he said, worried for the Kali that lived in Murisa. What would their fate be now?
Maybe this was a mistake he thought, his chest clenching out of grief to agree. His people have bled so much already for their own lives. The lands he ruled now beyond far off the sea where conquered with iron and blood...so much blood. They had given their enemies the taste of their swords as did they. Memories of old when he was just a boy himself played before him as though summoned. In this same room and floor, he was now standing on, he recalled when his late father returned home from fighting in a distant land. His father had been wounded, a large gash across his torso blood soaking his mother’s expensive carpet she had bought from merchants of the distant sea. Helpless he was when he was just a boy, he prayed to the Norn in a secluded corner. To spare his father’s life as his mother cleaned and sew his wounds, so they didn’t fester. His father drunk to stupor so he could not feel the prickle of needle on his skin as it tugged and sealed the wounds.
The memories made his own scars he accumulated in the battles he had experienced itch. He rubbed a hand over his hair, frustrated and torn. Going to war against Murisa would be subjecting his people to a great misery. Murisa was a great nation with capable allies who would willingly assist her for the price of bein
g given scrambles of what his kingdom would be left Furthermore, picking up the pieces of their lives after the war would be an enormous task, a task that would carry to the next generation when his reign was over.
He thrust his hand through his graying hair all the while Schmerz remained quiet watching him as he tried to remove the conflict between his heart and mind. In his mind, he saw the rule Murisa had on Kalil. They could not expand and ally with other kingdoms whom he thought to be beneficial for his people without Lorenz’s approval. From the sweat and backs of his people what they mined, produced and cultivated, Murisa demanded a sum of it as a tribute as were the healthy boys were rounded and taken to Murisa for hard labor. Even the coins the Kali used bore the face of Lorenz and not his or the late leaders of his kingdom.
Abasi growled in anger. This was not all that drove his purpose to end ties with Murisa. It was an old unbreakable treaty his forefather had agreed to, that, the king and people of Kalil would be the right arm, sword and shield of Murisa. It gave Lorenz a reason to clamp his claws around Kalil and flaunt with threats.
He snarled and cursed at Einarr his forefather who placed them in this un-saving situation. Although he ruled never-ending lands of riches and commanded a vast army, he still knew he was just a figurehead as long the treaty was upheld. The future as it has been for the past two centuries it was a blight for the citizen of Kalil only if he marched against Murisa did he have the slim chance to give the freedom, he desired his people to have.
What of the thousands of lives that would die at the hand of this course? A voice of fear questioned him.
Abasi looked at Schmerz for answers. Unlike him who appeared conflicted, his General stood coolly before him with his hands crossed behind him. His posture collected, his face exemplifying confidence of a person who had readied himself for the war for a very long time and was waiting for his king to recover from senseless sentiments.
