by Ryder Bailey
Coulta stepped back outside and handed the lantern to Rohan. "He's here watching," he muttered to Shelton.
At that moment the shadows across the street moved and Coulta saw the glint of eyes in the light of the lanterns dotting the market street.
"Who are you?" Shelton demanded. "Are you the one responsible for this woman's death?"
In answer, the shadows sent a wave of foul magic rushing toward Shelton. He was already prepared and cast the magic aside with a wave of his own, then attacked.
The attack was met with fierce resistance from his opponent, who moved forward. The rippling foulness of his evil magic was nearly overpowering, even for Shelton. Coulta saw him retreat a step and he reached for one of his blades. As it soared through the air toward the shadowy figure it was surrounded by far more of the silver in his magic than black. It struck the shadowed form – who was focused solely on Shelton – in the eye and imbedded itself with a flash of pure silver light.
The shadows dissipated as the figure fell to the paving stones of the road, revealing a young man dressed in black. On the back of his hand was a mysterious rune that Coulta couldn't read.
Shelton took a deep breath and moved toward the body, which was now dripping blood onto the road. It took him only a few moments of examination before he declared, "A low level necromancer. It's going to be difficult to find out where he was staying. He has nothing incriminating on him. But he might not be the only one around the city now. We need to properly dispose of him before one of his fellows decides to re-animate him to use what's left of his powers."
"They can do that?" Rohan asked, sounding a little disgusted.
"Yes. They do it to tap into what remains of the magic in the body before it decays. Anything they can do to grow more powerful, they do. His soul is gone now, but if another necromancer were here when he died, he would have captured the soul and harnessed its powers as well. They seek the ultimate power over death itself." He motioned to the knife. "I don't want to touch that. The magic that still clings to him doesn't agree with me at all."
Coulta bent and retrieved his blade, wiping it on the man's pants before placing it back in the sheath.
"And it seems your ceremony with Jaimathan may have unlocked more of your own magic," Shelton commented to him. "There was a great deal of Asir magic in that fatal throw."
Coulta nodded. "I noticed, but I didn't do anything differently. Maybe the magic knew what kind of enemy I was dealing with."
"Magic is even stronger than our minds, so it likely did."
Rohan gathered a few trusted Guardsmen to help him transport the body outside the city for burning, and Shelton and Coulta returned to the castle. When Coulta entered his bedchamber he found Wildas snoring on the padded bench by the hearth. Coulta smiled fondly and went to him. He knelt and placed a gentle kiss on Wildas's forehead. One of Wildas's hands was hanging off the bench and Coulta gently grasped it, feeling the slight chill from the winter air despite the hearth still burning brightly. He began to caress more warmth into those fingers until they curled around his as Wildas woke.
"You're back," Wildas murmured. "What happened?"
Coulta stood and removed his sword belt. "If you let me sit I'll tell you."
Wildas sat up and made room for Coulta, who sat close to him and began to recount the night from the moment he left the dungeon with Shelton. He was worried Wildas would fall asleep during the story, but he seemed completely awake throughout.
"So Rohan is overseeing the burning of the body?"
Coulta nodded. "Shelton wanted someone we trusted."
Wildas sighed. "This isn't good."
"It's not any worse than it was before tonight," Coulta replied. "We're going to be at war sooner or later. This was just a reminder. Would you feel better if you had more magic to defend your country with?"
Wildas gave him a sly smile. "Why yes, I think I would. It might distract me, too."
Coulta merely smiled and kissed him.
15
Two days later, Shelton visited the castle temple. Brother Pelles seemed to be waiting for him and rose from his seat in the middle row of prayer benches as soon as he entered. As usual, the temple was dimly lit with candles and filled with the smoke of burning incense.
"Blessings of the gods upon you, My Lord," Brother Pelles greeted him with a nod.
Shelton bowed his head in acceptance of the blessing, then asked, "Have you had any visions of events to come lately?"
Brother Pelles turned toward the altar and its statues of the Great God and Goddess. "The gods have not given me clear insight into what is to come, but they have made one thing known." He picked something up off the altar and held it out toward Shelton. "The one they call The Formerly Cursed will need great help in fighting the evil that will present itself soon enough."
Shelton took the offered object and discovered that it was a bundled chainmail shirt. From the weight and the way it felt in his hands alongside his magic, he knew the links were made of Altmyr. Within each ring was a tiny white gem.
"It was just completed from a store of Altmyr ore and gems that we have kept in our vault for generations."
Shelton didn't bother to ask why the temple had collected the rare metal or a large number of gemstone fragments. The priests believed they were directed by the gods, and they rarely did things without purpose.
"What am I to do with it?"
"Fill each stone with your own magic, and give it to him to wear in combat. It will give him more power for when his own starts to fail him. He may be more powerful than you, but his magical stamina will never be greater than that of the one he will be fighting. Not even your physical aid will help, only an extra source of magic will benefit either of you."
Shelton nodded. Small though the stones may be, such a large number of them meant that the shirt could hold a great deal of extra magic. The trick would be finding a way for Coulta to wear it under his thick leather armor, with a thinner material that would allow the magic to pass easily. The Altmyr made it thinner but stronger than typical mail, but it would still mean having a larger leather shirt made. He would commission it himself while he filled the gems with magic, which would take days.
"Is there anything else I need to know of?" he asked.
Brother Pelles merely shrugged. "Nothing for now. As I said, the gods have given me few visions that I can interpret very clearly. I will send for you if an urgent one comes to me."
Shelton nodded. "Thank you."
"Blessings be upon you."
"Thank you," he repeated, then bowed his head once before leaving to begin his work.
***
The rest of the Second Month of Winter passed relatively peacefully. Wildas refused to not honor Shelton's birthday, despite the older man's protests. He did change his mind slightly and didn't call for a formal banquet. Instead, they had a small feast that evening with only family members. He did the same for Yvona later that month, as well.
Two days later, Shelton gifted Coulta with the new Altmyr mail shirt and leather armor that would fit over it. If it wasn't for the magic in the mail, Coulta would never have considered mail under leather to be practical. He would wear it, if only to ease the worry in Shelton's eyes.
The peace couldn't last.
Anil went into labor in the morning of the fifth day of the Third Month of Winter. Wildas canceled all appointments and, once everyone else in the castle knew the queen was in labor, the entire castle came to a standstill. There was excitement and fear in equal amounts throughout the halls. Childbirth was dangerous, even with the best healers. Would she survive? Would the baby be healthy?
Those who knew about pregnancy counted back the months and realized that it was half a month early for the baby to be born. Nothing in the Grand King's character or that of the Queen's suggested that there had been a conception before the wedding. The servants claimed that the only one who had been in the Grand King's bed before the wedding was the Second King. They had made certain to a
void creating an heir too soon. That meant the baby was early.
Some argued that it was a positive sign. The baby had to be a son, therefore the heir. Coming early meant he was strong.
Others argued that it meant the baby would be weak for not staying long enough in the womb.
A small group claimed that no one would know until an announcement was made.
Coulta was trying not to think of any of these options as he sat in Wildas's office with his husband all day. Others filtered in and out of the room as the hours passed; Shelton, Yvona, Rohan, Jaimathan and Fae, all of Wildas's other siblings, uncles, aunts, and cousins. Even Teeya stopped in for a time. Servants brought food and drink periodically, though they were likely seeking news.
Above all other worries, Coulta's concern was whether or not his magic might have caused the early birth. He'd been told that the mother's body would protect the unborn child from being harmed, but how could anyone know that for certain? They all knew that his magic was unpredictable.
Wildas spent the day alternately pacing the room and sitting in a chair staring at the hearth. Coulta couldn't do much to calm his nerves any more than he could calm his own. As the day grew to evening, it only grew worse. Each time a servant or healer opened the door to his bedchamber, Wildas looked to them expectantly. There was never any news to give.
The wait dragged into the night. Shelton urged them to try to sleep, but neither of them could. Finally, at close to midnight, Myri slipped out the door to Wildas's bedchamber and closed it behind her. She looked exhausted and her hair was a mess, but what worried Coulta was the look on her face.
"They're all healthy," she said, and beside Coulta Wildas let out a heavy breath. "But there is a small oddity," she added.
A small seed of dread planted itself inside Coulta at that moment, quelling his own relief.
"What do you mean, all of them?" Wildas abruptly asked. "And what 'oddity'?"
"She had twins," Myri explained. "Both are healthy and whole, and she is doing well. A boy and a girl. You need to come, though."
They both rose and followed her through the doorway. A large group of servants and healers were whispering to themselves in the bedchamber. Myri instructed Coulta and Wildas to wait there, then she went to Anil's room. She returned with one bundle, and the midwife followed with a second one.
"This is Kylar," Myri said quietly, handing her bundle to Wildas.
Coulta stepped close beside him and looked down at the baby. His breath caught when he saw what Myri was so concerned about. Though it wasn't as terrifying as he'd expected, it still confirmed his fears.
A familiar black line hooked gracefully down the child's face, starting at the corner of his left eye and traveling along his jaw to his chin. It branched off once, following his cheekbone almost to his nose. As he squirmed and opened his eyes, Coulta saw that the left eye was silver while the right was dark.
Coulta looked at Wildas's face, afraid of what he'd see, and was even more concerned to see a tear slip down his cheek. Wildas, almost seeming to sense his feelings, looked into his eyes and smiled.
"He's yours, too," Wildas murmured.
Coulta shook his head. "I ruined them," he whispered, filled with pain.
Myri grabbed his arm. "No. You gave part of yourself to them. That's something good."
Wildas nodded. "It's very good. We're going to get some very personal questions from the court, but this is good. This is our family."
Myri motioned to the midwife, who brought the other baby forward. "This is Kyla."
Coulta reluctantly allowed the bundle to be placed in his arms, and was relieved when he didn't see any black on her. Then Myri gently pushed aside the blankets to show him her right arm. The line wrapped up her arm from her wrist to her shoulder, never branching off, but flowing loosely upward.
"A strong sword arm," Wildas murmured. "She'll be the best Princess-General the Royal Guard has ever had."
Coulta felt himself starting to shake and handed Kyla back to Myri. Then he sat down on a sofa in the room, his head in his hands.
Would the magic stay with the babies as they grew? Was it a part of them, or only temporary? And, if it was a part of them, would it continue passing through the line of the family? Would the royal family always have his cursed magic? How was the family going to be thought of now? Tainted? Cursed?
What if he couldn't convince the court that he wasn't truly the babies' father? The story of Arion, Second King to the third Grand King, Leon, suddenly came to mind. He'd fathered a child with one of the queens and had been castrated. Would the court demand that he be punished in some way, denying what explanation they gave? He was clearly going to be forced to tell them all about his infertility, something that was so personal yet so important for the validity of Wildas's declaration of Kylar as his heir. Would they even believe him when he told them?
"Coulta."
He tried to fight back his tears as Wildas sat beside him and gently stroked his back.
"There is nothing wrong," Wildas murmured. "This will all be sorted out with the court tomorrow. I swear to you that whatever difficulty we have won't last very long. All we need to do is make it known that you can't have children. I wish we didn't need to explain something so private, but it's the only way to make everyone understand."
Coulta rubbed his face and nodded. "I know. I'll do what's needed. But what if the magic stays with them? What if I've tainted your family? The entire royal line?"
Wildas gripped his hand firmly. "If it is passed down through the generations, then you have given the royal line an incredible gift. You are a part of the line and you will be remembered as more than a Second King or the Formerly Cursed. If the magic remains, they will always trace it back to you."
He gently turned Coulta's face to him with his other hand. "Trust me, Coulta."
Coulta nodded. "I do."
Wildas kissed him softly. "Then let's go back to our family."
Coulta wiped his eyes quickly and stood. Wildas followed and gave him one more kiss before leading him back to Myri, who was still cradling one of the babies.
"How is Anil?" Wildas asked.
"Resting, but very well at the moment. There are still complications that could arise later. We need to get things cleaned and get all three if them comfortable," Myri explained. "I kept everyone here so there would be no rumors about the appearance of the children."
Wildas nodded. "Allow them to go about doing whatever needs to be done. The only news they are to spread is that the royal twins were born healthy and whole, and that the queen is also well. The babies will be presented to the court tomorrow afternoon, once everyone is rested."
"Very well, but Anil will not come before the court if she's still weak. I won't risk complications to please some nosy old men."
"I understand," Wildas assured her with a nod.
Myri turned to the servants and healers and began issuing orders. Servants were sent to retrieve clean bed linens, fresh water, and food. Healers were sent to the castle stores for a long list of herbs and teas.
"Once we have everything settled, you may see her," Myri said, turning back to Wildas and Coulta. "I'm going to make sure everything is done properly. Would you like to hold the babies while you wait? Don't be offended if they wake up and start screaming. They are only newborns."
Coulta accepted his charge with less hesitation this time, and sat on the sofa with the tiny prince in his arms. At first the baby squirmed and whimpered, and Coulta expected him to begin crying. Then his eyes had opened that tiny amount that allowed Coulta to see the eery yet somehow beautiful silver of the left eye, and the newborn prince had gone quiet again.
Beside him, Wildas sat with the tiny princess, a strange look of amazement on his face, as if he was surprised he'd fathered her. She was also quiet, until a servant approached them and spoke, waking her and making her whimper.
"Your Majesty," the servant said with a low bow, "Lord Shelton and Lady Yvona are in your office a
nd wish to know if you'll allow them a brief visit."
Wildas smiled. "To see their new grandchildren? Of course. Bring them in."
Shelton and Yvona entered the room with obvious happiness. Yvona looked purely excited to see the new additions to the royal family, and Shelton was smiling brightly. Coulta was glad to see him and hoped he would be able to give some advice about dealing with the court.
"There is one small surprise," Wildas told them quietly as they approached.
"Aside from twins?" Yvona asked, laughing.
Coulta noticed Shelton's expression change to concern. "They have the marks of my magic," he explained.
Shelton's concern changed to surprise. "That shouldn't be possible. The mother's body shields the child in the womb." He knelt to look at Kylar, who began to stir again. "May I?"
Coulta handed the baby over and Shelton spent several minutes looking at him. Then he passed Kylar to Yvona, who cooed over him despite his strange mark. Shelton then took Kyla and spent just as long looking her over.
"Only time will tell if the magic is permanent," he finally said quietly. "There is no way for me to know now."
"And there's no way to know if it would be passed on, either?" Wildas asked. Then he glanced at Coulta and added, "Or if the magic will prevent them from having children at all?"
Coulta felt another stab of dread. He hadn't even thought of that, he was so concerned with the implications of just the magic itself.
"They both have a strong life-giving force," Shelton assured them. "I already looked for it. We won't know if the magic can be passed on until they have children, either."
Coulta was slightly relieved. At least he hadn't quite ruined everything.
***
Shelton and Yvona stayed until Myri announced that Anil was asking to see her husbands. Both babies were unhappily demanding to be fed by then, so Shelton was all too happy to hand over the newborn princess. He and Yvona wished them all a good night and gave their congratulations, then left for their own rooms.
