The Tainted Crown: The First Book of Caledan (Books of Caledan 1)

by Meg Cowley

  ~

  The archbishop stood with his back towards the congregation as he watched Zaki climb onto the dais with slow, measured paces. Zaki arrived before the looming stone figure of the dragon. It crouched over the throne, hiding it from view beneath the impenetrable sweep of its frozen wings.

  A deep silence filled the vaulted space as the watching crowd collectively held its breath and waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing happened. The dragon did not even twitch.

  Zaki beckoned the archbishop forward with a sharp gesture. He hurried to obey and climbed up onto the dais with as much grace as he could muster. Pages scrambled after him, far less graceful under the weight of their burdens. The archbishop, beads of sweat beginning to roll down his anxious face, swept the grand purple mantle of kingship around Zaki’s shoulders with a flourish and fastened it with the golden clasp.

  Fur lining trailed upon the floor and stroked Zaki’s neck as he began to feel uncomfortably warm. He looked into the crowd – a blinding sea of upturned faces – until Demara caught his gaze from the front row. She smiled at him, but his face seemed to have frozen and would not respond.

  The archbishop knelt at Zaki’s feet to offer him the royal ceremonial sword – the honour and chivalry of Caledan – which Zaki accepted. He then received the golden sceptre that denoted his right to rule, which was set with a fist sized gleaming diamond said to represent truth and integrity.

  The archbishop charged him to rule in line with the law and Zaki repeated the promises of kingship to those waiting, whilst the dragon throne stood cold and dark behind him. He knelt at the archbishop’s feet as the final page approached, bearing the last plump velvet cushion upon which balanced the finest crown contained within the royal vaults.

  A slight murmur arose as the silken cover that concealed the crown fluttered to the ground, revealing it for the first time. Golden, set with precious metals and jewels, it was magnificent and yet unexpected. Silence fell as he rose to his feet.

  “I present to you on this joyous day His Majesty King Zaki of Caledan, first of his name!” shouted the archbishop to the congregation. “Long live the king!”

  “Long live the king!” the crown obediently roared back. Cheers broke from outside, the chant taken up and repeated throughout the city, however in the cathedral silence fell once more as those gathered waited for the throne to accept the new king. Zaki met Demara’s gaze again and she smiled at him encouragingly.

  He turned, bowed on bended knee to the stone dragon and held himself low. His closed eyes opened, confused. He rose and stood. His hands shook. The dragon loomed before him. The throne was still lost to him under the protective cage of its wings. It remained unmoving.

  Whispers and then murmurs began to rise from the crowd, silenced when he turned to face them. The realisation dawned. The throne had refused him. He could not begin to contemplate what this could mean – not at this moment. He stepped forward.

  “I need no grand throne,” he proclaimed far more bravely than he felt. “A simple chair will suffice.” He called forward the archbishop. “Fetch me a damn chair,” he hissed, “and have them pay allegiance to me!” The archbishop hastened to comply and he was seated within seconds, his mantle draped around him.

  First of all came Demara, who knelt at his feet to kiss his hands and swear allegiance to him. A trailing line of his noble subjects followed her as Zaki locked a smile upon his face and suppressed his growing doubts.

  Demara

  The cheering had subsided as Demara left the cathedral and the atmosphere felt less than jubilant. The people did not clap or call to her as she passed, as she would have expected. Instead, they watched her and spoke in hushed tones.

  Demara hurried into the first of the waiting open-topped carriages, helped up by her ever present maids, who adjusted her dress and fur lined cloak as she perched upon the cushioned seats. Trying not to shiver – the day seemed cold and the breeze brisk – Demara sat erect and poised.

  She smiled to the crowd and waved gracefully to them as the carriage set off to return to the palace, puzzled when the crowd did not respond with enthusiasm. “I do not understand. What has happened?” she asked her maids through her gleaming smile.

  Her maids did not reply. They sat demurely and quiet opposite her.

  “I see that something is not right. I command you to tell me what it is,” Demara said.

  “If it please you, ma’am.” Joslyn leaned across to speak to her. “The coronation wasn’t exactly as expected. Not very traditional,” she tried to explain as Demara ceased waving to the crowd and fixed her eyes upon the maid. “The people will wonder that the abbot of the northern monastery didn’t conduct the ceremony as he ought to and they will wonder why Pri- King Zaki doesn’t wear the crown of the dragon kings, but ma’am please forgive me, I only say what they will be saying…” She trailed off.

  “Tell me.” Demara glared.

  “The dragon throne should have accepted him.” Joslyn rushed. “There’s a throne hid under the wings of the stone dragon. It’s magic! No one knows how it happens. The dragon’s still for years and years, but when the king or queen dies it moves and covers up the throne. When the new king or queen gets crowned, the stone dragon’s supposed to move and allow them to sit the throne. But this time, it didn’t.”

  “What does this mean?” She didn’t understand the girl’s garbled story but Joslyn’s words at least confirmed her fear that something untoward had occurred.

  “It might mean nothing, ma’am, it’s just that people are superstitious and think it might be bad luck,” Joslyn replied. “I’m sorry if I worried you ma’am.”

  The carriage jerked to a halt outside the castle. Demara disembarked and withdrew to her quarters. “I do not require your services any more today,” she said as brightly as she could to Joslyn, who curtsied and left. She held up a hand to stay Seline as she made to leave.

  “Not you, Seline. I need you.” Demara slowly lowered herself onto a cushioned chair and stared out of the window.

  “Are you well, my lady?” asked Seline.

  “I do not know,” replied Demara, downcast. “I know that you will understand me Seline, as no one else here will. I miss our homeland. These Caledonians and their ways are so strange sometimes. I worry that I will never belong here.”

  “Hush, my lady, do not worry yourself with these things,” Seline said. She smiled at Demara as she sat at her feet. “You are the new queen of Caledan; surely that is wonderful! No one should make you feel unworthy, for you are greater than them all.”

  Demara smiled faintly. “Queen. I never expected to be queen. It does not feel quite real, I must confess, though perhaps it will when I am crowned on the morrow. I cannot see that the people will receive me well though, given the reception they have shown my husband. I worry that we are not secure.” Seline tried to soothe her but Demara silenced her with a wave. “I worry about everything now I am with child. I wish I were home.”

  “I wish that too, my lady,” Seline admitted quietly. “It is cold here and unfriendly. I miss the warm sun and the long days of Roher with all my heart.” They both fell silent, remembering their homeland. “Will you journey there for the birth?” Seline asked.

  Demara frowned. “I know not. I suppose my child will be the heir to Caledan’s throne. I am not sure if I would be allowed to leave. Perhaps I could return for a while afterwards. I have not seen my home since before I married. I know this should be my home now but I do not belong with these people. I do not trust them.” She rubbed her stomach. The growing bump was solid beneath her hands. “Will you summon Tomas for me?” she asked Seline.

  “Ambassador Delgado? Of course, my lady,” Seline scrambled to her feet.

  Within the hour she returned, out of breath and red faced. “He comes now, my lady.”

  “Thank you Seline.” Demara favoured the girl with a smile. “Send away my other ladies. I tire of them. I wish for just your company tonight.”

  “Of course,
my lady.” Seline bobbed and left as the Roherii ambassador Ser Tomas Delgado entered.

  “Your Majesty.” Tomas bowed low to her.

  “Come Tomas, I am ever who I was.” She beckoned him forward to sit beside her, whilst she shared her worries.

  “I have come from the coronation procession just now, my lady and I see no reason why you should be concerned,” Tomas said. “The crowd seemed eager to see their new king and he has made sure to guard the city well; there were many soldiers to line the route and keep the peace.”

  “I worry that I am not safe here, nor my child, because the coronation did not proceed as it ought to have done,” she replied.

  “If you seek my opinion, my lady, I would counsel you to remain positive, especially in light of your present condition. Do not overtax yourself. I will keep you informed if there is anything to be concerned by, so you can assume that if you hear nought from me that all is well.”

  “Thank you, Tomas.” Demara smiled at him to conceal the worry that had not dissipated with his words. “I am sure you are right.”

  Eve

  “Can you think of nowhere they would be?” Artora challenged her to think.

  Eve thought for a moment whilst poring over the map and recalling her thorough geography education. As she ruminated over the clues the queen had given her, her lips formed a surprised ‘Oh’ as she realised.

  “Precisely,” said the queen as Eve pointed to the map. “The volcanic islands of Kotyir to the east are not known by some as the dragon isles for no reason. That is where some of them still dwell.”

  “What else can you tell me?” Eve asked.

  “Perhaps now would be the time to give you a brief insight into magic?” Artora offered, to Eve’s instant agreement.

  They stepped through double doors into the garden and began to wander towards the mountains. Eve squinted at her surroundings as her eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight.

  “Magic in Caledan is not well known and deemed not to exist by the population as more than a fairytale,” Artora said. “As our most powerful weapon, it is a secret of the highest order. Although there are tales of our magical abilities, they are deemed to be as fanciful as the existence of dragons due to the fact that we have been hidden from the world for so very long.

  “Magic itself can be described as the manipulation of pure energy that can be performed by will. It takes practice to master but can be used in complex ways and on a vast scale. Energy is not used up by magic use; it complies with the laws of matter and transforms from one form to another. Fundamentally, nothing is gained or lost and an overall equilibrium is maintained.”

  Eve nodded, not quite understanding as Artora continued.

  “However, magic is not straightforward to use nor accessible by anyone; only the Eldarkind were given such powers and so only those with some remnant of our blood flowing through their veins will be able to use magic. For example, the monarchy contains our blood to some degree through intermarrying in the earlier days and every now and then, a member of the bloodline will express some proficiency with magic, although for the most part it is a dormant skill. Mortals in the population with diluted forms of our bloodline can also express magic to some small degree.

  “It is possible, although much rarer for any other unrelated being to use magic. It is unclear how they are able to do so. Such gifts of power appear to occur randomly and spontaneously and thankfully their powers are weak and so they cannot do much harm if their skills emerge. If they have great skills, we find and train them personally,” she explained.

  “Most ordinary folk with such affinities to magic tend to find themselves as very proficient healers, carers and craftspeople. You though should be capable of using magic,” she glanced at Eve, “because you are a daughter of the Eldarkind. The blood should flow almost as strongly through you as it did in your mother and if your looks are anything to go by, I would think there is a very strong likelihood that you also have her powers.” Eve listened, enthralled. They wandered away from the garden and across the meadows, climbing towards the wooded slopes.

  “So, I have described to you what magic is and who may use it, but I have not described how to use it. It is an odd thing to describe. Magic can be felt in the mind like a stream of raw energy, ever present, laying dormant. It can be sensed most keenly at times of high passion – anger, joy, sadness, fear and so on.

  “The stream of energy is accessed, controlled and directed simultaneously by its own language and thought, so that one may not think or speak something separately and invoke magic. Instead, most magic users must speak and have focused thought for a manipulation of energy to occur.

  “In rare cases without great training, and also in childhood, magic can be used without words in situations of stress. It is possible for highly trained and skilled magic users to mentally speak, rather than physically and still have the same desired effect; however this is something that takes enormous levels of practice to undertake successfully.

  “The language of magic is the language the elementals left the Eldarkind and so we speak with their tongue to heal the world around us. This language is one that describes the true name for each object in the world and this is how it is able to link the manipulation of anything to one’s desire.

  “The Eldar tongue is innately known from birth, but is awoken at a later stage – anywhere from childhood to adulthood – depending on the circumstances. It will sleep until awakened and could indeed never awaken in a person.

  “Although the Eldarkind speak this language as their mother tongue, until one awakens in the magical sense and is able to reach out to that stream of energy, the language is dead on their tongue and merely a form of speech. We must also be careful, once we do awaken magically, to speak this language without directed thought unless we intend to use magic. Otherwise, this can result in unfortunate consequences if magic is used accidentally! This is something we all learn to control when we come into our skills. Perhaps this would be easier for you as your mother tongue is not the Eldar tongue.

  “The Eldar tongue itself allows communication between us and all other species excepting humans, who do not understand it because they have already evolved their own complex languages. Even though the dragons are much more intelligent than other creatures in general, they are also able to understand the language and this is their primary tongue when they choose to communicate with words, which occurs in dragon to Eldarkind communication, rather than with images or sounds, which occurs in communication between dragons. They can speak in the human tongue also, although we are not sure how.

  “Speakers of the Eldar tongue on a basic level are able to gauge animal emotions and on a higher level communicate in a detailed fashion although the animals are unable to speak to us in return and instead use their usual forms of verbal and nonverbal communication, which users of the language can recognise and decode with practice.

  “Magic is not a plaything though. Although it opens up to us a great world of possibilities and allows us to reach out to any living being, magic is not something to use carelessly. Sustained magic use is limited by concentration, willpower, and mental and physical strength. No task greater than one’s own strength should be attempted.

  “The manipulation of energy requires your own body’s life and strength to control, until you are skilled enough to successfully and subtly extract such energy from the surrounding environment to fuel your intentions. This dissuades from foolish spell casting, as you cannot use more energy than you possess to cast a spell. If you did, your very life force and physical form would be burnt up to feed the spell, which ends when it is completed, or the energy source from the magic user has completely run out.

  “Magic is limited also by the knowledge of language in that particular tongue. Of course this is not an issue for Eldarkind where this is the spoken tongue and it is so innate in the strength of our blood, but it is a limitation in more diluted forms in the general population, whose innate knowledge is incomplete a
nd warped. It is worthy to note that use of the language and directed thought by non-magical individuals produces no magical effects; they cannot access the energy stream to facilitate it.

  “So you can do anything you want?” asked Eve.

  “Theoretically, yes, although only the elementals possessed vast enough strength to be nearly limitless in their powers. Not even we possess either infinite knowledge or strength, even as a collective,” Artora said.

  Eve was silent for a while, trying to digest all that she had heard, whilst Artora observed her. “You said that it is likely that I am able to use magic. Are you sure?”

  Artora dipped her head in silent confirmation.

  “But I don’t feel anything. This energy stream you spoke of, I don’t feel it. And when I heard your people speaking in their language, it made no sense; I understood none of it. Surely that means it is not possible?”

  Artora shook her head. “Eve, the signs point to your abilities and I would be astounded if your powers never awoke. It is often the case that magic does not awaken until adulthood and I believe it lays dormant within you. One moment you will be as you are and the next, it will be as if you have awoken in a new life. Perhaps you are not ready to awaken or have not met the event which is destined to awaken your powers.” She saw Eve’s dismayed face.

  “Eve, remember what I said yesterday evening. Magic, or any other skill for that matter, does not make you evil unless you choose to use it thusly. It is a great gift, and I am confident that when the time comes, you will bear it with the appropriate sensibility.”

  “Perhaps I can accept that,” said Eve. She bit her lip. “Does this mean I am some kind of immortal? I don’t want to have to live forever if all those around me will fade.”

  “Alas, that I do not know and cannot guarantee,” admitted Artora. “Given past precedents, one who is half human and half Eldarkind usually has a lifespan not quite as long as ours, but far longer than that of a human.”