“In the Giant Mountains, even in the spring and fall, you’d be glad to be inside a hill. And besides, the walls are made of stone, not dirt.” Hyden frowned into the mirror, not liking what he saw at all. “Blast this! It just doesn’t suit me.” He pulled the fancy wizard’s robe over his head, and then began stripping off the awful itchy woolen leggings that went with it. “Grab my kid-skin pants from the closet—the new black ones—and my old horsehide boots for me, would you Phen?”
“Sure.” Phen went into the other room and found the items. As he returned with them he asked, “Is it true, what they say you did to the High King and the Seaward Princess this afternoon?”
“I suppose that depends on what they say I did,” Hyden chuckled from behind the changing screen. “But if they say I lied to the pretty girl with promises of bear cubs, but showed her the High King’s sword instead, then yes, it’s true.”
Phen laughed deeply at that. “They’ll have you hanged for insolence or treason,” the boy managed between giggles.
“Nah, nah! High King Mikahl was my friend back when he was just Mik the Squire.” Hyden stepped from behind the blind in a pressed white shirt with ballooned sleeves that was tucked neatly into his leather pants. Unlike what the current fashion trends dictated, he wore the legs of his snug fitting pants over his boots instead of inside them. “Besides,” he continued. “I’m not from the kingdoms of men. I’m a human from the kingdom of giants. I am a free man here, and if I did have a king it would have to be King Aldar.”
“The cloak,” Phen offered his fashion advice. “Wear the black one with the silver flames along its edges.”
“That was Dahg Mahn’s cloak,” said Hyden. The idea of wearing it stopped him completely. For a long moment he just stood there contemplating. He rarely messed with the long missing wizard’s personal things. It just didn’t seem right. Yet to wear that cloak to this feast seemed to be the perfect thing to do. “All right then,” he nodded.
Phen was already up and bringing him the ancient garment. Hyden put the cloak over his shoulders, pinned it with a silver broach shaped like a diving hawk, then checked himself in the glass again.
He had mussed up his long black hair when he’d pulled the robes off. He started to brush it, but changed his mind and instead tied it back behind his head with a silver wire. He gave the mirror another look and decided that there was only one thing missing. He reached into his shirt and pulled forth the silver medallion that he always wore around his neck. The brilliant tear-shaped jewel mounted in it sparkled at his collar. Finally, Hyden decided, he was ready.
Talon cawed out his approval of the look.
Phen nodded as well. “Not so bad, for a bumpkin, I mean.”
“Keep an eye on that boy, Talon,” Hyden said to his hawkling with a grin. “He’s as sharp as a iron orb.”
As soon as the door closed behind Hyden, Phen sat Talon back on his stand and started rummaging through the piles of books at the study table. He would know everything he could about the Silver Skull of Zorellin by the end of the night. Little did he know, that was exactly what Hyden Hawk intended.
Later, at the gathering, Hyden gawked openly at the size of the arms on Princess Rosa’s two guardsmen. They were huge. Each bicep was as big as Hyden’s head. Both men wore spiked and studded boiled leather armor vests that weren’t just for show. Each of them carried long, well used swords at their hips too. Studded gauntlets and knee-high hard leather boots finished the uniform, save for their long blue cloaks with the orange setting sun of Seaward emblazoned on the back. As were most of the men of Seaward, these two were baldheaded, and covered with tattoos—one giant tattoo actually.
One of the guards had what looked like a bird’s beak that started between his eyes and bent backwards over his head. Hyden had seen the same style on a lot of Seawardsmen. Feathers started where his hairline should have been, and strange yellow eyes were inked in over his ears. The other had a simpler design of lightning streaks jagging back from his temples and forehead. The man reminded Hyden of Loudin the hunter. Loudin’s tattoos had been of tiger stripes, and he had been as fierce as any wildcat there ever was.
The Princess was beautiful. Her dress was a rosy color, with crimson and sea-blue trim. It set off her eyes and the jewels on her dainty wire crown. The dress was less shapely than the one she’d worn earlier in the day, but it revealed more of her ample cleavage. A thumb-size sapphire had been cleverly hung around her neck. It rested perfectly at the top of the deep line her breasts made. At her side was an older woman. Hyden thought he heard someone say she was an aunt.
Queen Willa looked regal and beautiful in a powdery blue gown. Her little blue-skinned pixie friend Starkle fluttered around her head like a butterfly, giving her an unearthly, surreal appearance. To further the look, at either side of her was a dwarf. Dugak was on her right, and his wife Andra was on the queen’s left. They were dressed in a darker shade of blue that was trimmed in lavender. Though her expression didn’t show it, Hyden knew that Queen Willa would have rather been wearing her studded leather girdle over her chain mail. And Dugak would surely have rather been drinking in the cellars, for if you wanted to find him for anything, most of the time that was where you would go. Queen Willa smiled brightly at Hyden when she saw him. He smiled back and made a cringing funny face. She was forced to feign a cough to hide her laugh.
King Jarrek wore the deep black shades of mourning, trimmed in blood red. He was making a statement for the Princess to carry home to her mother. “My kingdom was destroyed,” the look said. “My people are now slaves. Will you just sit there and do nothing?” Jarrek’s expression was stern behind his dark bangs and beard, and the fierce determination in his eyes added a perfect exclamation point to his attire.
Then came the High King. Hyden had to shake his head in wonder as the court announcer called out his lengthy title. “I give you High King Mikahl Collum, the Uniter come again, the King of Kings, the wielder of Ironspike, and Defender of the Realm…” and so on for a full two minutes. Mikahl looked the part too. Layers of emerald and forest green, all trimmed in gold, were draped over him, and a fur scarf made from what might have actually been a lion’s mane gave him the appearance of a young, golden crowned lion’s cub. The emerald-eyed lion’s head medallion that King Aldar had hand carved out of dragon bone hung proudly around his neck. He looked the part of a mighty king, in all his splendor, but the look on his face was pinched. Mikahl despised this sort of pomp and ceremony.
Hyden knew without a doubt that with only a few words he could create a scene here for the ages to remember, but he held his tongue for the sake of Queen Willa and King Jarrek. To begin rebuilding in earnest, they needed Seaward’s aid badly. Hyden was sure that was the only reason his friend Mikahl was suffering through this farce as well.
When King Mikahl’s eyes landed on Princess Rosa, it was hard to say which one of them blushed a brighter shade of crimson. After a moment, both sets of eyes found Hyden. All Hyden could do was shrug and grin. High Wizard Sholt saved him from their glares by handing him a goblet of Valleyan honey wine and engaging him in conversation.
“The only two things Valleyans can do well are raise horses and make wine,” the middle-aged man said. He was wearing the high collared, black-trimmed, white robes of his station. The master wizard kept his beard in a neat goatee, but his wild graying hair always seemed to be in disarray. “In fact, it’s the only two things they do at all,” he continued. “It amazes me that King Broderick is pleading for exoneration for his great mistake, but is too afraid to ask to be forgiven in person.”
“Would you want to face King Mikahl and that sword of his?” Hyden asked. He hated politics, but liked Master Sholt. “Or what about Willa the Witch? Would you like to have to face her after sacking two of her cities?”
“Nay, sir, I would not, on either count,” agreed Sholt with a forced chuckle.
“You will allow Phenilous to continue tutoring me while I’m on expedition, I hope,” sugge
sted Hyden. His words hadn’t been framed as a question, more like a subtle order.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” Sholt started. “I wasn’t sure if he was truly needed on such a dangerous venture. I thought that it might have just been kindness on your part that was indulging his fancy. He tends to be a little highly strung, if you haven’t noticed. Confined on a ship, on a long sea voyage, he will become a nuisance, I assure you.”
“No,” Hyden looked the master wizard directly in the eye as his father had taught him to do. “It is more than indulgence, Master Sholt, I assure you. And no one will be more antsy on that ship than I. I trust Phen, and he helps me with Talon. He is fluent in several languages, including Salazarkian, for which I may need him as a translator when we reach the islands. But most importantly, he is my friend, and he really wants to go.”
“I see.” Sholt swirled his nearly empty goblet a few times then downed the last of the wine. “What do you plan to do with the items you find on this expedition? I suppose that is the pertinent question. As scholars and educators in the arcane, we would want to study anything of importance. And I’m sure you know that we don’t want any dangerous items ending up in the wrong places.”
Hyden was certain the high wizard was fishing for information just like Phen had been doing earlier, only with a little more tact. Phen couldn’t have told them yet, and wouldn’t have told them about the Silver Skull. “I assure you that anything of interest to you, Master Sholt, and your colleague, Master Amill, will be handed over once I’ve returned,” Hyden said directly into the man’s eyes. “My interest is only in the adventure of finding the old pirate ship.” And using the Skull of Zorellin to go into the Nethers and get that blasted ring away from the thing that my brother has become. Once I’ve accomplished that you can have the Silver Skull too, for all I care.
“Any scrolls, or texts would find their way to me or Master Amill before any other eyes delved into them, I pray,” the high wizard said seriously. “Neither you nor Phenilous are skilled enough in the arcane to do more than cause harm with something you don’t understand. When it comes to spells, potions, and artifacts, extreme caution and careful study is always the best route to take.”
“Of course, Master,” Hyden said from behind a forced, but convincing smile.
“Then I will inform Phenilous of his good fortune later this evening.” Master Sholt’s smile wasn’t forced at all. The prospect of acquiring new spells and artifacts excited him and set his mind to wandering.
The “tink!tink! tink!” of silver rapping on crystal grabbed everyone’s attention. The feast, it seemed, was about to begin. Oddly, Queen Willa’s place at the head of the table had been given to High King Mikahl. Queen Willa sat at the other end of the table with the round and balding, but extremely capable head of her Blacksword soldiers, General Spyra, on her right and King Jarrek on her immediate left.
Hyden was seated at High King Mikahl’s right hand, next to a large fleshy man who he thought might have been the mayor of Xwarda. Across from him, and to the King’s left, sat Princess Rosa. The aunt, who sat beside the Princess and almost directly across from Hyden, was staring at him with a dark, angry look in her eyes. The white of her knuckles as they squeezed around the handle of her meat knife wasn’t lost on him. Nor was Princess Rosa’s subtle amusement at the discomfort that her aunt was causing him.
He gave her a mock apologetic shrug and sighed. It was going to be a long meal, followed by an even longer, and less interesting series of negotiations masked as polite conversation. Hopefully Phenilous had taken the bait and was researching the Silver Skull of Zorellin. If he was, Hyden mused, at least something was getting done this night.
Chapter Four
“…thes weel intereast yew, Kang Jareek,” Princess Rosa was saying in her heavily accented, girlish voice.
The dinner dishes had just been removed and everyone was anticipating the desserts that were yet to come. Hyden was just glad that there were no more knives left at the table. The daggers in the eyes of Princess Rosa’s Aunt were as sharp as razor blades.
“A men neemed Dreeg, and hes company, are claiming up the iron mines around yer ruined Castlemont, and all threw the rest of Wildermont as weell,” the Princess continued. “It seems that he’s taking your people back to their homeland as slaves to do the werk—the digging and the smething, I thenk mother called it.” She touched a finger to her pouty lips and squeezed her huge dark eyes shut in concentration. “No, smeelting not smething, was whet she said,” she finished with a smile.
The room fell silent for a few long heartbeats. The subject was a tender one for both King Jarrek and High King Mikahl. Her information was welcome, though, and the fact that her mother had obviously told her to tactfully relay the news showed that Queen Rachel might be serious about helping King Jarrek’s cause.
“Dew yew reelly thenk that the zard-men are lizards?” the Princess asked High King Mikahl, in an attempt to change the subject.
He started to answer, but Hyden Hawk cut him off. “They are, m’lady.” He gave Mikahl a wink and then focused his full attention on entertaining the Princess. “They were a prominent race once. According to the writings of one Urfell Nevlen, the Westlanders attempted to kill them off a few hundred years ago. Up until recently, it was believed that they had succeeded. They ride big four- legged lizards called gekas, and they train long beaked swamp dactyls to fight and spy for them.”
The Princess’s expression showed the distaste she held for such slimy scaled creatures.
“Between the zard-men and the breed beasts, taking back Westland will surely be some bloody business,” King Mikahl said, more to himself than to anybody else.
“No less so than freeing my people from that slaver, Ra’Gren,” added King Jarrek with a nod.
“Now, now, sirs!” Queen Willa interjected herself forcefully into the conversation. “I will not have such talk at my table. The Princess was merely musing on the existence of those creatures. All of this blood talk can wait until later. I assure you that there will be a time and place for it, but that time and place is not here, nor is it now.”
Like two scolded boys, the kings mumbled apologies to Queen Willa with chastised looks on their faces. The sight was humorous to some of the ladies at the table, but the subject matter of the previous conversation kept them from doing more than eyeing the two men.
“I understand that you’re leaving on your treasure hunt soon,” someone said to Hyden.
“Aye,” Hyden started to respond, but then remembered his manners. “Um, I mean yes, sir, we are.” It had been the Lord Mayor of Xwarda who had broached the subject.
“Pirates’ treasure is it?” the pudgy, half-inebriated man asked. “It seems to me that, with the people of Wildermont enslaved, and Westland overrun with skeeks and beasts, the timing of this adventure is… well …well it’s just odd.”
Hyden looked at him coolly. There was a gravy spill on the man’s collar where his second chin mushroomed up out of the straining garment he wore. Hyden pointed at the stain conspiratorially as he responded.
“The amount of wealth that was supposedly on that ship is more than enough to buy back every single one of King Jarrek’s people,” said Hyden. It was a lie, but it sounded good. “Not that I would recommend buying them back. The High King and King Jarrek need the coin though; Highwander as well. Soldiers, carpenters, and lumbermen all have to feed what is left of their families while we rebuild.”
Queen Willa rescued Hyden from having to dig himself further into the conversation. “Lord Mayor, do not forget that Hyden Hawk is not a kingdom born man,” she scolded. Her narrowed brows and severe tone cowed the man, but she went on anyway. “He has already bested Dahg Mahn’s tower, saved Xwarda from the dragon’s wrath, and helped High King Mikahl destroy that foul wizard Pael. I think that if he wanted to build a ladder up to the moon it would be none of our concern.”
Silence again.
“Yeer Highness,” the Prin
cess gamely tried again to gain the High King’s attention. “Deed you reelly fight the daemon-wizard from the back of a magical horse weth wings of fire?”
Hearing it from the mouth of the dreamy-eyed girl made it sound absurd, but it was true. Mikahl did fight the demon-wizard and his dark minions from the back of the bright horse. Humble by nature, Mikahl couldn’t find words. What was worse, the table had gone quiet in expectation of some boasting tale. He fingered his dragon bone medallion, trying to avoid the Princess’s gaze because he didn’t want to flush with embarrassment in front of the whole table. Knowing that she’d seen him naked as a jay this afternoon was too much at the moment. Luckily he was saved from having to respond to her awkward question by the arrival of a train of servants bringing in the desserts.
***
All along the front face of Queen Willa’s Xwardian Palace, starting above the second floor’s row of arched windows, had once been a row of forty-foot tall stained glass depictions. All the glass was gone now. High King Mikahl, King Jarrek, Queen Willa, and Hyden Hawk stood in one of the open balcony-like spaces that remained, looking out across the moonlit rubble Pael’s wrath had caused. The horror of the site was displaced by fragments of the stained glass that had been blasted out from the castle wall, leaving the destroyed city looking as if it had been frosted in gems.
In the foreground, below them, the fountain in the middle of Whitten Loch danced and played. The ripples reflected the light of the torches that ran along the top of the castle’s inner wall. The air was still chilled and Mikahl had placed his lion-skin cloak over Queen Willa’s shoulders, but it was King Jarrek who stood closest to her.
“When are you leaving?” Mikahl asked Hyden.
“Two days, if nothing diverts me,” Hyden answered.
“Brady Culvert is a strong sword and a good man, Sir Hyden Hawk,” King Jarrek said. “His father died beside me at Castlemont and was my dear friend.”
Kings, Queens, Heroes, & Fools Page 3
