by RM Wark
She could tell the General was not pleased that she had used the Emperor’s own words against him.
“As you wish, Queen Delia,” he said with a clenched jaw. “But you should note that those terms are not negotiable. You shall have until Diday to make a decision. I shall not wait any longer.”
“I understand, General.”
Lord Conrad gave a short nod to the Queen and was about to leave when Lord Nigel called out to him.
“General?”
The General froze, not expecting to hear from another wizard. He turned around slowly.
“Aye?” he said, giving Lord Nigel a suspicious look.
“There are missing wizards,” Lord Nigel stammered. “We should like to know if the East is aware of what happened to them.”
Lord Conrad rolled his eyes. “Pavel, give them the list.”
The dark-haired soldier who had followed Lord Conrad stepped forward and handed the Queen a separate scroll.
“What is this?” Lady Delia asked.
“A list of the known dead. It shall become much longer should you fail to surrender,” said Lord Conrad.
He left before she could reply.
*************
Steward Isaiah watched from the window in his study as Grant approached the front door.
“Hello, Grant. What brings you to the village square?”
Isaiah could hear the surprise in Beatrice’s voice. Perhaps I should have told her.
“Steward Isaiah asked me to come,” Grant replied nervously. “I received a note with his seal the day before last,” he added.
“Oh. Please, come in.”
Beatrice’s voice had been of the utmost courtesy, but Steward Isaiah knew her well enough to tell she was annoyed. She prided herself on being a gracious host, and that was a difficult role to fill when the guests were not expected.
She shall be even angrier when she discovers my intentions, the Steward thought.
“Steward?” Beatrice appeared at the door to his study. “Grant is here to see you.”
“Thank you, Beatrice.” Steward Isaiah offered his best smile. “No need to send him back. I shall go to him.” With the help of his cane, Steward Isaiah managed to stand up.
“Very well. I shall put on some tea,” Beatrice said, turning away from the door once she was satisfied that the Steward was steady on his feet.
“That shall not be necessary,” Isaiah called after her.
Beatrice’s face reappeared in the doorway. “Pardon?”
“I meant to tell you this before, Beatrice, but it slipped my mind. I fear I am getting old.” Isaiah tapped the floor with his cane and smiled at Beatrice.
It was not true. He had not forgotten a thing, but seeing the annoyance fade from her face had been worth the slight falsehood.
“I shall be leaving for a few days. I have business to attend to elsewhere. Grant has agreed to accompany me.”
“But where are you going? Are you certain it is wise for you to travel at all?” She eyed his cane as she asked this.
“Not far, Beatrice. I should be back in a week’s time. It is rather important business, or else I would not be going.”
“Is Zeke going with you as well?”
“No. I have given him the week off so that he might help his father on the farm. You shall have the place to yourself for a little while. Perhaps you can invite your friends over for a game of Vin Setum.”
Beatrice wrinkled her nose at this suggestion.
“Or perhaps you would prefer a card game. I hear Red Lady Rum is popular these days.” Steward Isaiah knew perfectly well that Beatrice had grown quite fond of the card game recently.
“I suppose it would be nice to have a few friends over,” Beatrice admitted. “Do you require anything for your trip? Where was it you said you were going?”
“No, I do not need anything save that basket of rolls you have in the kitchen.”
“All right. I shall be right back.”
Steward Isaiah made his way slowly down the hall to where Grant was standing in the entryway.
“Hello, Grant.”
“Hello, Steward,” the nervous young man replied.
“Are you ready for our journey?”
“Aye, sir.”
“Let us go then.”
“Aye, sir.”
Grant opened the door and held it for the Steward. Isaiah nodded at him and stepped through the threshold into the open air. He looked up to the skies and was grateful to find no hint of inclement weather. He was not certain he would have the strength to control the weather if need be.
“Sir?” Grant asked, stepping behind him.
“Aye?”
“Where is it that we are going?”
Steward Isaiah turned back to the house with the red door to make sure no one else was listening.
“To Koman.”
*************
It had been a long trek back to Mt. Xavier. Lady Delia did not say much, and refused to answer when prompted for her thoughts. Eventually Lord Nigel and Lord Harlan just let her be.
“Any word from Lord Spencer?” she asked expectantly when Philipe welcomed her home.
“No, my Queen.”
Her face was visibly crestfallen at the news, or lack thereof.
This shall complicate matters. Diday would be upon them in less than two days.
She pulled Lord Nigel aside and whispered in his ear. “It is time to welcome our friends from Norman. Please send word immediately.”
The next day she faced nearly thirty wizards seated around the oval table in the main dining hall. Everyone’s gaze was fixated on her, except for Lord Quaid. He was still focused on the divot in the table, his thoughts decidedly elsewhere.
He has lost his parents. He himself is lost, she thought. We are all going to lose, eventually.
She opened her mouth to speak but Lord Harlan interrupted her.
“I have taken the liberty of briefing everyone on the Emperor’s terms, my Queen.”
Lady Delia was surprised by this. She had been planning to do that herself – she was Queen after all. But she did not lash out. Now is not the time.
“Thank you, Lord Harlan,” she said, her voice flat. She turned her attention to the larger audience. “As you all know, the terms are quite severe. We shall lose everything. Our homes. Our lands. And without our wands, we shall cease to be true wizards. But we shall still have our lives.”
She paused for effect.
“So you plan to surrender?” asked Lady Tessa, cautiously.
“I did not say that,” replied the Queen. “It could rightly be argued that without our wands, we are no different from the common man, save our lengthy lifespan,” she continued. “I suspect that even our lifespans shall diminish should we be deprived of our powers. Should we surrender, I fear the commoners shall turn on us when things go awry – as they are wont to do – and that we shall have no magic to protect ourselves.”
“So your plan is to fight then?” asked Lord Nigel.
There was a certain eagerness in his voice. She knew he was angry and seeking vengeance for his son. Lord Gideon’s name had been among the list of the dead. “I did not say that either,” replied the Queen.
“Then what do you plan to do?” asked Lady Tessa, confused.
Lady Delia surveyed the room. Even Lord Quaid was now paying attention.
“Nothing,” she said.
“Nothing?” repeated Lady Tessa. “I fail to see how that serves our needs.”
Lady Delia did not respond to Lady Tessa. She spoke directly to Lady Grace instead. “Please tell the Yukon fighters to retreat to Mt. Xavier and to bring with them any food and valuables. Let the Eastern army waste their time and effort tearing down that wall. I would rather face a tired army than a strong one … should I decide that we must fight.”
Lady Delia turned to Lady Tessa, knowing the wizard would not be comfortable with her proposed approach.
“We can surrender at any time,” the
Queen said. “This does not necessarily mean that more wizards shall lose their lives.”
If only that were true.
“But the Emperor may punish us for not surrendering within the designated time frame. The terms may become even more stringent,” Lady Tessa protested.
“Nothing but death could be worse than what they have already proposed,” Lady Delia replied.
*************
Diday came and went, and the Queen did nothing.
The lands surrounding the castle were now speckled with tents. More than two dozen fighters from Thorpe had arrived weeks ago, one hundred fighters from Yukon arrived the day prior, and just this morning thirty fighters from Norman had arrived.
With so many young men (and the occasional sturdy woman) in close quarters, it was not uncommon for a scuffle to break out now and again. Fortunately, Lord Nigel and Lord Harlan were always quick to quell the anger.
It would be a few more days before traces of smoke were detected upon the breeze – the first hint that the Eastern army had broken through the southern wall and set the Town of Yukon afire. By nightfall, the southern sky was aglow in a hazy orange. The following day, the town – what was left of it anyway – was shrouded in a thick smoke.
Lady Delia handed her spyglass to Lord Nigel. “Yukon. It is gone,” she said. “I cannot see the army – the smoke is too thick – but I know it shall not be long before they scale this mountain.”
Lord Nigel frowned. “Any word from Lord Spencer and Lady Iris?”
Lady Delia could not bring herself to speak. She could only shake her head.
It would be several more days before the Queen received the first reports of the Eastern army’s ascent of the purple mountain. A large gathering of soldiers remained near the base, but at least a third of the army was slowly beginning to climb.
“What is your plan, my Queen?” asked Lady Tessa as the wizards once again gathered around the oval table in the main dining hall.
With a confidence that belied her trepidation, Lady Delia replied casually, “I shall see if Lord Conrad has changed his mind about negotiating the terms of surrender. If he has not, then we shall fight.”
“But we are outnumbered, my Queen. The fight shall be lost before it even begins!” Lady Tessa protested. “Please, reconsider. Please!”
“Where is your son, Lady Tessa?” a bitter voice interjected.
Lady Tessa turned towards Lady Grace, the source of the unexpected question.
“Lord Clintock?” she asked. “I left him in the care of Lady Donna. Why do you ask?”
“He is still alive, no?”
“Aye … as far as I know,” answered Lady Tessa.
“Well, my son is not,” Lady Grace replied angrily. “The Easterners killed Lord Gideon. I shall never see his sweet face again. I shall never know any grandchildren.” She was fighting back tears now, and her voice shook with emotion. “You may be content to cower before their evil – it is easy for you, as you have not lost anyone – but I am not. I want justice. Do not presume you speak for us all when you plead the case for surrendering. I would rather die honoring the memory of my son than live as a coward to the end of my days.”
Lady Tessa did not respond, and she sulked in silence for the remainder of the meeting. Lord Harlan had tried to comfort his wife, but she quickly pushed his hand away.
With no further objections, the meeting came to an end, but the dour mood was pervasive throughout the castle.
*************
Grant had clearly been startled by the news that they would be traveling to Koman, but Steward Isaiah was grateful that the young man had not protested. He merely nodded his head and helped the Steward mount his horse. Not a word escaped his mouth.
It was not until they had left the confines of the village on the road north to Jessum that Grant finally spoke. “Steward?”
“Aye?”
“Did the Komanites raid the storage barn? Did they kill Hammond?” Grant asked.
“I do not know,” the Steward replied.
“Oh,” Grant seemed surprised. “I had thought perhaps that was the reason we were headed to Koman.”
“I see.”
“I am truly sorry, Steward,” Grant said, but he did not elaborate.
“Whatever for, my son?” Isaiah prompted.
A frown appeared on Grant’s face. “I should have been the one guarding the storage barn that night. Not Hammond.”
“Is that so?” This was news to Isaiah.
“Aye, sir. I was sick, sir,” Grant started to explain, but his voice faltered. “No, that is a lie. I was not sick. It was my birthday, Steward, and I wanted to celebrate at the pub with my friends. So I told Hammond I was sick, and he agreed to guard the storage barn that night.”
The Steward nodded his head but said nothing.
“I am truly sorry, Steward,” Grant continued, his voice filled with emotion. “I did not want for any of this to happen. I am the reason Hammond is dead.”
The Steward watched as Grant quickly wiped away the tears from his eyes.
“No, son. Unless you shot an arrow into Hammond’s back, you are not the reason he is dead. As for lying … I suspect Hammond knew it was your birthday. He loved to celebrate in the pubs as well.”
“Aye, sir. That he did,” Grant said with a chuckle.
They continued riding down the road at a slow pace for some time, each silent with their own private thoughts.
“Steward?”
“Aye?”
“Why are we going to Koman?”
The Steward paused before responding. “I have important business to attend to.”
“Oh.”
If Grant had any further questions, he did not ask them. But that did not stop the Steward from questioning himself. He knew the Elders would have never agreed to let him travel to Koman. And he knew they would have good reason. Yet he knew he must.
The Komanites deserved an explanation, and it was important that they hear it from the Steward of Reed. Otherwise, it might not bear the same weight, and the prospect of any meaningful truce or reconciliation would be lost.
Yet the Steward could not help but wonder if his course of action was unwise. Much could go awry, and so much was uncertain. Alas, the Steward was not a dreamer – he could not foretell the future – so he pushed forward in spite of these concerns.
*************
Lady Delia descended the purple mountain, followed by nearly all the wizards and an army of more than a hundred and fifty commoners willing to sacrifice their lives for a cause that reached far beyond their true understanding. They only knew that the Easterners had destroyed Inverness, Thorpe, and Yukon, and that they must be stopped.
The commoners had been told that the Easterners outnumbered them, but they recalled ancient lore of victorious battles by their ancestors, and they were filled with a naïve sense of invincibility. Lady Delia knew she needed such courage, and she did little to dissuade it.
They were barely halfway down the mountain when they encountered the first of the Eastern troops. Fortunately, it was a small band of commoners, and their weapons were easily stayed by a few simple spells cast by the wizards. Defenseless, the men were quickly surrounded by the army of Westerners.
“Tell Lord Conrad I should like to meet with him before this battle begins,” Lady Delia called out to a single soldier chosen to be the messenger. “I shall wait two days for his arrival. For every day thereafter that he does not appear, I shall kill two of your friends.”
She was not certain that she could actually carry out her threat. She hoped the General would not test her. But two days would come and go, and there was still no sight of Lord Conrad, nor any other Eastern troop.
With heavy heart the Queen approached the Eastern prisoners. “Who amongst you is prepared to die?”
They exchanged nervous looks with one another, and then the oldest among them rose. “I am.”
He spoke with a Western accent, taking Lady Delia by sur
prise.
“I am, too,” echoed a younger man with an Eastern accent.
“As am I,” said another and another.
In the end, Lady Delia went with the first two volunteers. “You shall not feel any pain,” she told them.
They nodded, closed their eyes, and bowed their heads.
“Desinomori!” she shouted.
And with a single word and a simple flick of her wand, Lady Delia brought death upon two men.
*************
Lord Cephas was in the library once again, nursing his pain with whiskey. He liked the library. It was quiet there. He could be alone with his thoughts.
“My lord?”
The wizard sighed and turned towards the voice. He frowned once he saw who it was that beckoned him. “What do you want, Selma?”
To his surprise, she did not answer him. Instead, she walked straight towards him and leaned in low, kissing him passionately.
Lord Cephas pulled away, confused. “What are you—”
She put her finger to his lips to silence him. “Please. Come with me, my lord,” she replied, pulling him up from his comfortable chair.
His body responded to her beautiful eyes, her scent. He could not refuse. So Lord Cephas followed Selma back to her bedchambers.
Despite all of Selma’s determined confidence, it soon became obvious that it was her first time. She apologized profusely and began to cry.
Lord Cephas quieted her by placing gentle kisses along the trail of tears, slowly making his way towards her soft, trembling lips. He took a certain pleasure in knowing he was about to deflower his father’s personal servant.
*************
The killing of the two men had literally made Lady Delia sick to her stomach. It was the first time she had ever taken the life of another. She supposed she could have delegated the duty to someone with more experience, but it was she who made the threat – it was she who should carry it out. She was the Queen after all.
