The Severed Realm

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The Severed Realm Page 2

by Michael G. Manning

A more thorough inspection revealed that the ends of her long, silver tresses were stained and stuck together with a mysterious brown substance. Adding that to my available information, including the strange smell in the air, I came to the obvious conclusion. “Have you been…cooking?”

  The smile she put on her face was so awkward that it made me shiver. “Yes. I started yesterday but you never returned, and Matthew and Moira never appeared either. I was forced to throw it out, which may be for the best. I don’t think it was very good.”

  “Where was Alyssa?” I asked, concern growing in my heart for what I would find in the kitchen.

  “She still hasn’t returned,” said Lynaralla.

  Irene broke in, “You gave her leave to visit her father for a few days, remember?”

  “Oh,” I said noncommittally. “Let’s see what we have.”

  My newly adopted daughter led us into the kitchen, and the normalcy of the scene I found there made me immediately suspicious. I had expected the place to be wrecked. Most new cooks make stupendous messes, but our kitchen appeared pristine. Perhaps she used magic to clean as she went, I thought.

  The food itself didn’t seem frightening. Small chunks of meat were smothered by a thin, brown gravy and accompanied by an assortment of root vegetables.

  “None of it is burned,” announced Lynaralla proudly.

  “It looks edible,” I murmured. She’s already a step ahead of Rose if it isn’t scorched.

  “Sit at the table,” said the She’Har girl. “I will bring plates.”

  A few minutes later, Irene and I were seated in the dining room, with two plates in front of us. I glanced at Irene and gestured with my fork, indicating she should take a bite.

  “After you,” she told me with suppressed mirth in her features.

  I said nothing, but the daggers in my eyes conveyed my feeling. Traitor. Fork in hand, I speared a small piece of meat and lifted it to my mouth. Surprisingly, it was tender, though the seasoning was entirely lacking. It could be eaten, though. I took another bite, but the texture made me wary, so I spit it back out and examined it.

  Of course, it’s tender. It’s raw! The exterior had been lightly seared, but beyond that no further cooking had occurred. “The meat needs to be cooked more,” I said aloud. Then another thought came to me. “Speaking of which, what kind of meat is this? I don’t remember having anything other than eggs and salt pork on hand when I left the other day.”

  Lynaralla made another attempt at a smile, botching it even worse than the first time. “I had to be resourceful. I hunted for this myself.”

  Oh, no. “But what animal did it come from?” I asked, fearful of the answer.

  “At first, I thought I might capture a deer or some rabbits, but then I remembered Alyssa complaining that rats had gotten into the root cellar, so I decided to solve two problems at once,” Lynaralla said proudly.

  I dropped my fork and carried my cup of water to the outside door with me, where I began rinsing and spitting to clear every trace of her ‘food’ from my mouth. That done, I returned and began a careful lecture regarding which animals humans consider appropriate for eating. I didn’t bother showing disgust or being dramatic, for it wouldn’t have done anything to reinforce my words. The She’Har could be very literal, often comically so, but they were excellent listeners. So long as I spelled out in great detail what was and wasn’t for eating, she would remember.

  After I had finished that, I moved on to lesser matters. “Do you know where the salt is?”

  “Isn’t that just for preserving meat?” she asked.

  I sighed. “Tell you what, tomorrow morning I will teach you to cook.”

  In the past, we had had almost half our meals in the main hall of the castle, but until the keep was finished, that was no longer an option. Penny had done a lot of our cooking at home, but while I didn’t brag, I was probably the best cook in the family. Matthew and Moira were pretty well versed in the subject as well, while Irene and Conall were ignorant of everything other than knowing how to peel vegetables and wash dishes.

  In the weeks since my wife’s death, however, none of us had felt up to taking on the task. Alyssa had done most of it, when any of us bothered to show up.

  I gathered up the food and discarded all of it. Then I made a simple dish of carrots and turnips. It wasn’t much, but there wasn’t much to work with. It settled our stomachs at least.

  The next morning found Lynaralla and me in the kitchen together. She was meticulous in her movements, which I took as a good sign. I doubted she would ever be very creative, but attention to detail was important in cooking. Even if she didn’t become a great chef, she could definitely become a proficient cook.

  It was almost comical how serious her face was when she put on the apron, but before we went any further, I stopped her. “You need to tie your hair back as well. You got food in it yesterday.”

  She nodded and then pointed at me. “Where is your apron?”

  I rarely wore one. I had a reputation for getting food all over my clothing while eating, but for some reason I had much better luck while cooking. “I won’t need one. I’m here to teach. You’ll do everything. Now pay attention.” I pointed to an object on the counter. “This is the salt mill. Salt is the most important seasoning when you cook. Too little and your food will be bland, too much, and it may not even be edible.”

  “Will it be required for eggs?”

  “Definitely,” I told her. “Eggs can be served without it, and they’re still decent, but a little salt will make them shine.”

  “Does everything need salt?” she asked intently.

  “Damn near it,” I answered. “Even salad benefits from a tiny bit of salt right before you serve it, but let’s focus on breakfast for now.”

  Breakfast went well, and Karen even managed to coax Matthew into joining us for Lynaralla’s first exhibition of her new skills. As I sat at the table, Irene, Lynaralla, and Karen filled the room with light conversation, and for the first time in weeks, the house didn’t feel quite as empty. Matthew glanced at me at one point, and as our eyes met, I could see a similar feeling in his features.

  Maybe we could survive this.

  Then Sir Harold showed up, entering the room from the hall that led to the portal to Albamarl. He looked almost apologetic, but then he straightened and said in a formal voice, “Your Excellency, forgive the intrusion. Queen Ariadne requires your presence.”

  I found the entire performance irritating. I hadn’t built the portal to the Queen’s chambers so she could send messengers to drag me out on a whim. “Tell her I’ll stop by this afternoon,” I responded.

  “My lord, I am afraid that this isn’t a request. She demands you attend her forthwith.”

  Forthwith? I doubted Harold had ever used the word before Dorian had found him, seen his potential, and decided to train him. He had come a long way. That thought did nothing to keep me from being ticked off at the demand. What was Ariadne thinking? I shoveled another egg into my mouth and stood. “Very well. I am ever the loyal servant.” Crossing over, I began to lead him toward the portal.

  Harold looked uncomfortable. “You might want to change your attire, my lord.”

  I shook my head. “Of course not! If the Queen needs me, it must be urgent. Who am I to delay for such a trivial matter?”

  Irene caught my elbow. “I’d like to come too.”

  I gave her a curious stare. “I don’t mind, but why?”

  “I haven’t seen Carissa in a while.”

  Carissa Thornbear, Lady Rose’s daughter, was Irene’s closest friend, and the two of them hadn’t seen each other since Penny’s funeral. I simply nodded.

  ***

  One nice thing about the portal was that it led directly into the Queen of Lothion’s private chambers, which meant I would likely get to see her privately before being dragged into
whatever dog and pony show was planned for me.

  I wasn’t disappointed. She was waiting for me in the front sitting room.

  “Mordecai,” she said as I entered. Harold quickly bowed and led Irene from the room, leaving us alone.

  “Your Majesty,” I responded, taking a knee. “You wished to see me?”

  “Get up,” she commanded. “It’s just the two of us. You know better than that.”

  I kept my eyes on the floor. “As your humble servant, it is always wise to show deference,” I replied. “How else should I answer such an urgent summons?”

  “Damn it, Mort! Get up and talk to me. I don’t have long before the council meeting. I need to know what is happening.”

  Relenting, I stood and following her direction, took a seat. “I’ve already told you what happened.”

  “There are a lot of rumors about the day of the attack on Albamarl,” said Ariadne.

  I shrugged. “I’m not particularly worried about my reputation.”

  The Queen looked irritated. “And what of mine? Do you think a monarch need not worry about such things? Lancaster rule was founded in large part on your support. How well do you think it will last if the nobility rebel against me?”

  “Whatever they think of me, Ari, my actions are not yours.”

  “We’re cousins!” she snapped. “Over the years they’ve held their tongues because of that fact, but recent events are too much. The close ties between our families are no secret. If we cannot find some reasonable answer to these rumors, I may not be able to shield you.”

  “I’m perfectly fine being a scape-goat,” I said angrily. “I’ve done it before. I still have the scars to prove it. If there’s that much pressure on you, take my title. Give it to my son. Then they won’t be able to accuse you of shielding me for your own purposes.”

  “That isn’t the point, Mort! You’ve been through enough. I know you’re in pain. Losing Penny hurt all of us. I couldn’t do that to you. And even if I could, cutting my own legs out from under me wouldn’t strengthen my position,” she said sadly.

  Frustrated, I asked, “Then what do you want from me?”

  “First, give me the full story. I need to know exactly what you did, and why. If I know that, I can at least give the reasoning and pretend I had some strategy, even if things didn’t go entirely as planned.”

  She was right. I couldn’t argue against her point, so I gave her a detailed explanation without leaving out anything. When I finished, she sat still, a pensive look on her face.

  “So, in the middle of the night, as soon as you learned their location, you went to destroy one of these ‘nests’ and sent your children to eliminate the other? You didn’t even give it a day’s thought or consideration?”

  Well, when you say it like that, it sounds stupid. I nodded.

  “You didn’t expect the sort of reprisals we saw?”

  “I did send Conall here, Ari, and I gave dragons to your knights. It isn’t as though I didn’t expect something to happen. I just didn’t realize how strong the response would be,” I said defensively.

  “How many more dragons are there?”

  I hesitated. “I plan to bestow another seven or eight, once Harold gives me his list of candidates.”

  Ariadne’s eyes narrowed. “That isn’t what I asked.”

  “More than ten,” I told her.

  “How many?”

  “Listen, Ariadne, I’ve never shared that information with anyone. I think it’s important to keep our enemies guessing.”

  “I’m not your enemy, Mordecai. I’m your cousin. Don’t you think I should know?” she said with calm resolve.

  “Not necessarily, no,” I said flatly. “The dragons were my creation. Created with the power I took from the gods with my own two hands. They belong to me. I decide who they go to.”

  “Mordecai,” she said, her voice taking on a dangerous tone. “I’m your Queen. I shouldn’t have to remind you that you hold your lands in service to me—to Lothion.”

  “The land, yes,” I answered. “But the dragons are mine. They were not granted to me. I made them.”

  “And if I command you to give them up?” she asked coldly.

  There was steel in my voice. “I wouldn’t recommend you take such a course, Your Majesty.” After a second, I added, “Why this sudden paranoia about the dragons? You’ve never pushed the issue before.”

  Her eyes bored into me, but then she relaxed, letting the tension flow from her shoulders as she exhaled. “From what you’ve just told me, I can make the claim that I authorized your actions. But while that will remove the blame from your shoulders, it will make me look somewhat foolish. I need to show the lords that I have a plan for Lothion’s defense. The dragons make an excellent case in that regard, but I can’t even answer basic questions about them. How can I admit that I don’t even know how many there are?”

  I remained silent, thinking. Finally, I said, “Tell them there are at least ten, but that you won’t say more on the subject. Let them think you are keeping it a secret.”

  Ariadne rose from her seat. “Very well. We’ll play it your way.”

  I gave her a grateful smile. “Thanks, Ari.”

  She nodded and then hesitated a moment. “Have you discovered anything about Roland?”

  Roland was her brother, the Duke of Lancaster.

  I shook my head. “Nothing yet, but I haven’t given up.”

  She pulled me to my feet and then hugged me. It was a slightly awkward gesture, given that she was dressed in the robes of state and wore her crown. The attire wasn’t really made for such things, and I had to be careful not to lose an eye on the spikes on her crown. Then she spoke softly into my shoulder, “I’m sorry about Penny. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

  The Queen of Lothion pushed me away. “I have to face the council now. They’ve waited long enough.”

  I started to follow her, but she waved me away. “I can’t take you in there looking like a peasant farmer. Go home. I can deal with this alone.”

  “Ari…”

  “Not another word. This is the least I can do. Take care of your family.”

  Chapter 3

  Irene intended to go to the great bailey that guarded the gates to Albamarl, since that was the location of the traditional Hightower residence, but she encountered Benchley in the palace hall first.

  The chamberlain bowed as soon as he spotted her. “Lady Irene, it is an honor to see you.”

  Straightening her back, she answered, “Benchley, right?”

  “At your service.”

  “Could you tell me where I might find Lady Hightower?”

  Benchley nodded. “Certainly. Lady Hightower is currently in the council chamber with the other lords, awaiting the Queen’s presence.”

  “Oh,” she said, disappointed.

  He smiled at her. “Let me take you there. If the meeting hasn’t started yet, you may have some time to talk to her before it begins.”

  A short walk later, she found herself outside the door to the council chamber. Her brother, Conall, stood guard outside it, along with one of the regular palace guards. Benchley went inside to inform Rose while Irene waited. “What are you doing here?” she asked her brother.

  “What does it look like?” answered Conall. He looked awkwardly self-conscious in his armor, which consisted of a gilt-edged breastplate over mail. The royal arms were emblazoned on the breastplate.

  Irene eyed him critically up and down. “Shouldn’t you have the Cameron arms on your breastplate? You aren’t a palace guard.”

  Conall glared at her. “Father’s never given me any armor with our arms on it, not that it matters.”

  “We have surcoats,” countered Irene. “You should be wearing one over that, to represent our family.”

  “Why is this s
uch a big deal to you?” asked Conall, irritated.

  The guard beside Conall was doing his best to pretend he couldn’t hear them, but it was obvious he was uncomfortable. Irene didn’t care. “Noblemen are supposed to wear their own arms, even when in service to the Queen. You’re a Cameron.”

  “I’m a younger son of a count,” said Conall. “I’m not the heir. Technically, I’m nobody.”

  “You’re my brother. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Are you ashamed of your family now?” Irene was seething, but before she could say more, the doors opened and Lady Rose stepped out.

  “Did you just come to annoy me?” asked Conall.

  “Father told me to tell you to come home,” Irene lied. “He hasn’t seen you in over a week. Have you even thought about how he’s feeling right now? How I’m feeling?” Her voice was gradually rising in pitch and volume.

  Rose put a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s talk somewhere else, Irene. I don’t have much time.” She glanced at Conall. “You can argue with your brother afterward.”

  Irene followed her down the hall, looking over her shoulder to give her brother a dirty look as they went. Rose opened a door that led into a small antechamber and offered her a seat. “How are you holding up?”

  She took a deep breath, wishing she could imitate Rose’s perfect composure. “You need to come back,” she said at last.

  Rose arched one brow. “Did your father send you to tell me that?”

  Fidgeting, Irene stared at the tiled floor. “No.”

  “Then why are you saying it?”

  “Because it’s true,” said Irene, her frustration showing in her voice. “Everything is falling apart. No one talks anymore. Moira’s gone off somewhere, Matthew keeps himself locked away most of the time, and Conall is here pretending to be a hero. It isn’t right!”

  Rose gave her a sad smile. “You miss Carissa, don’t you?”

  “No. Yes. That’s not the point! Aren’t you listening? I’m worried about Dad. He needs help,” she replied.

  Taking a deep breath, Rose answered, “Irene, after something like this, your mother’s death, people often deal with their grief in different ways. I know it seems like the end of the world right now, but things will get better.”

 

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