by Liam Reese
How will you survive then, idiot?
That was her mother’s voice, reminding her she was stupid, reminding her she couldn’t take care of herself. If she left here now she would have no money and nowhere to live. No, she was stuck here until either King Besmir came back and killed her like he had done her father or another one of her half siblings arrived at the front door to challenge her.
Collise had begun to wonder the same question Branisi had muttered as she had been battling the boy that had come to challenge her. How many more children had Tiernon fathered and how may could use the power they had? She watched enviously as a group of children ran past, weaving and ducking through the crowds, laughing as they played some game or other.
That’s all I really want.
Then make them do what you want.
Her mother’s voice echoed unpleasantly through her head. Yet Deremona was right. Collise had the magic in her, Collise was the queen and people had to do as she said or else.
“Branisi!” she cried, wincing again as she forgot her ribs. “Branisi, I want to go out.”
The door opened to admit the housecarl who looked pale and tired.
“Sorry?” She asked abruptly. “What?”
“I want to go out. Into the city to meet the people,” Collise said. “Arrange it.”
Branisi frowned and took a step forwards.
“Forgive me for reminding you, highness, but did you not say everyone hated you? I thought you had decided it would be better if you remained inside.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” Collise said with her nose in the air. “I want to go and meet the people. I’m the queen and they have to do what I say,” she added in a petulant voice.
Branisi shook her head but said she would arrange a trip and turned to leave.
“Branisi?” Collise said as the housecarl reached for the door handle.
“Highness?”
“You can stay here,” Collise told her in a satisfied voice.
“As you wish, highness,” Branisi said as she left the room.
Collise felt disappointed. She had thought telling Branisi to stay here as she went out would have upset the woman but if anything she had appeared relieved.
Good. I don’t want her with me anyway.
A little later, after Collise had changed into suitable attire to meet her people, a long dress trimmed with ermine and deep cerise in color, Branisi opened the door and introduced her escort for the royal visit. Three young men and a woman of similar age stood to attention in the hallway outside, all armed and armored as well as being in full dress uniform. Collise noticed each sported the white stag of Besmir over their heart, signaling they were his troops and loyal to the king.
“About time,” Collise said. “We will leave now.”
Branisi stood aside as Collise walked past her, the four guards falling in behind her. Another servant opened the main door and Collise stepped outside, savoring the warm air that greeted her, full of the scents of her city. Branisi stood at the door watching her leave as groups of people gathered to watch the odd procession. Collise heard them whispering questions and rumors as she passed but ignored them for now, heading down the avenue towards the large market she knew would be on.
The heavenly scents of cooking meats and baking bread mixed in the air with the less attractive smells of unwashed bodies and sweating animals when Collise reached the market. She had been here a few times as a child to gawk at the numerous wares from all across the land and even some from foreign countries, none of which she could have afforded at the time. Now, however, she had the treasury at her command and would spend it as she pleased.
People gave way as soon as they saw the royal guards, all hoping for a glance at whoever had come among them. Besmir was a man of the people and trusted them with the life of his son as well as his wife. The king could often be found walking among the populace, greeting people and chatting with them amiably. Collise had seen it herself in years past, when she had collected the small amount of honey and grain the king had allowed her and her mother, he had been there giving his blessings and the occasional coin.
Now it was Collise’s turn to be worshiped, for people to fawn at her sleeves and beg for a morsel of her time.
Except…
Except no one appeared to be doing that. People stared, pointed at the strange girl dressed in royal clothing with royal guards but none seemed to want to approach her, to know her.
To be her friend.
Collise approached one of the stalls, a dark cloth laid over a table with jewelry laid out over its surface. Her eyes roved over the glittering pieces, coveting each but seeking the perfect piece she would have. It came in the form of a golden chain with a white opal surrounded by thoranite gemstones at its center. The fine chain shone in the afternoon light and it looked as if the opal glowed with inner light.
Beautiful.
“That,” Collise said pointing at the chain.
“An excellent choice, young miss,” the vendor said as he unhooked the chain. “This is six hundred gold.”
Collise swallowed. That kind of money had been more than she had ever seen in her life and this man wanted it for a single necklace?
Of course he does, you’re not poor anymore.
“Claim it from the treasury,” Collise said, holding her hand out for the piece.
The jeweler looked nervous, his expression apologetic as he folded the chain into one hand.
“Many apologies, miss, yet I don’t know who you are to claim the treasury will reimburse me. Have you any form of currency?”
Collise felt her cheeks heat up and a tightness grow in her chest. What did this man think that she was some impostor?
“I am Collise Fringor,” she shouted, drawing the attention of passers by who stopped to gawk at her. “Heir to the throne and your queen!”
Collise felt her cheeks burn hotter when some of the people around her began to laugh behind their hands.
“Since when has Besmir had a daughter?” Someone called.
“You’re no queen!” Another shouted.
“Who are you really, and why did you get your friends to dress up as royal guards?” Another voice demanded.
Collise spun, turning from face to face, her confusion, fear and anger growing. This was not how it was meant to be. They were supposed to love her like they did King Besmir not call her names and shout at her in the street.
“Tiernon was my father!” Collise shouted, silencing some of the voices. “King Tiernon Fringor and I am his daughter.”
“Pah!” An old lady spat before her feet. “Old Tiernon was insane. Only reason he had any children was to use them as slaves. You is no more queen or princess than I am,” she added in an unkind voice. “Go back and crawl under whatever rock it is you was living under.”
Numerous cheers and catcalls followed the old woman’s remarks and Collise felt the burn of embarrassment in her chest and face as she turned to leave. Not until the first piece of fruit hit her did it occur to Collise she was in any danger. Although soft and almost over ripe, the guala fruit still made her cheek sting when it burst spraying red juice all over her face and staining the ermine trim of her dress.
Laughter followed her attack and Collise turned to the guards behind her.
“Do something!” She shouted at them.
“What would you have us do, highness?” One of the men asked in a sarcastic voice. “Attack the people?”
Even her own guards were mocking her, snide little smirks on their faces.
Burn them!
Her mother’s voice screamed inside her head and Collise lashed her hand out at the old woman without even pausing to consider. She shrieked as her clothing and hair lit as easily as if drenched in oil and ran off through the crowd, people dancing out of her way, only to fall and roll madly on the ground in a futile attempt to quench the searing heat that consumed her.
After that the screaming began in earnest. Those who had experienced Tiernon’
s savagery years before were joined in voice by those who watched Collise burn an old woman to death, all scattering and yelling madly, leaving her in the middle of an empty market. Collise hung her head, even the guards had taken the opportunity to leave her and the only other person anywhere near her lay a blackened and charred husk on the ground.
Collise sighed, her ribs aching and stooped to collect the golden chain the jeweler had dropped in his mad flight from her wrath. Sadly she looped it over her head, the piece cold against her skin and started back for her house.
If this is how they want it to be.
Teghime sensed the urgency from Besmir and galloped madly over the terrain, her large, two-toed paws digging up little puffs of dry earth as she streaked across the ground.
Besmir grinned savagely, grit and dust gathering on his teeth as the hot air flowed across his face, through his hair. From the corner of his eye he could see the hindquarters of Cal Trin’s daasnu bunching and flexing as he led Besmir towards where he had seen the other rider. The Corbondrasi slowed his massive cat at the crest of a ridge overlooking a vast plain. Besmir halted, staring down at the grassland below crisscrossed by animal tracks. Dark green and brown vegetation stretched as far as his eye could see, merging with the azure sky in the distance. A few scrubby trees had sprung up here and there providing cover and shade for the herd of buffalo that must number in the thousand.
He scrutinized the land before him, searching for any sign of the rider Cal Trin had reported but saw nothing. The Corbondrasi shielded his eyes with one feathered hand, pointing with the other and chirping in his strange language. Besmir squinted his eyes tearing up with the brightness but he just made out an ant sized speck in the far distance.
“Is it her?” Arteera asked as she reigned her own daasnu in. “Is it Keluse?”
“No idea,” Besmir said absently as he struggled to focus on, let alone identify, the figure. “But who else is likely to be out here alone?”
The hunter freed his mind, his consciousness flashing through the intervening distance until he slammed into the brain of the rider’s horse.
The mare was tired and confused, thirsty and hungry as Besmir slowed her to a stop. The rider on her back was unfamiliar to her and had not been kind. Besmir felt the rider dig their heels into the mare’s flanks.
“Onward!” He heard Keluse’s voice.
As soon as he realized it was her, Besmir threw the horse into a mad bucking. Kicking and jumping with the last of the animal’s strength to try and dislodge her. Eventually he made the mare drop to the ground, rolling onto her back and knocking his friend free. He turned the horse to see her roll free, coming to a standing position in one fluid movement and casting a hand towards him.
Pain exploded up the horse’s legs and chest, transferring to Besmir, as the Goddess did something to the mare’s heart. Within the animal, Besmir could do nothing but endure the torture as the mare suffered a massive heart attack. Throwing himself free of the dying horse Besmir flowed across to one of the buffalo that was contentedly munching grass. He turned the massive creature towards Porantillia and started forwards.
You’ll kill Keluse!
Reluctantly he slowed the headlong charge the buffalo was now in, turning the great beast as it panted and blew, before pulling his mind from it. Flashing back to his own body he panted, clutching his chest where he could still feel a ghost of the pain the mare had felt.
“Besmir!” Arteera was screaming. “Besmir, what’s happening? Are you all right?”
“Yes,” he managed through the dissipating pain. “It was her...them…Porantillia in Keluse’s body,” he gasped in a deep breath. “She killed her horse,” he frowned, thinking. “Killed it because she knew it was me controlling it!”
“How could Porantillia know it was you?”
“Not Porantillia. Keluse!” Besmir cried. “When Porantillia took over my body, I knew her thoughts, her memories and she knew mine. It was as if we were the same for a while, melded together as one being. That makes things even more difficult.”
“Why?” Arteera asked with a frown.
“In order to stop her, I’ve got to out think Keluse, not just Porantillia,” he explained.
“Wait, why are we chasing her now?” Arteera asked. “I thought we were going to get Joranas back.”
“We are, love,” Besmir said gently. “But Keluse is my oldest friend, I can’t just abandon her to whatever Porantillia might do,” he said, “and she still wants to destroy everybody in this world. I have to stop her or getting to Joranas will be for nothing.”
Besmir watched as his wife’s face fell, the expression of hopefulness that had been there replaced by a blank stare that he had seen more often recently. Arteera was gradually drawing into herself, shutting herself off from him as well as the rest of the world in an attempt to ignore the pain inside. Each time another blow came, each time another piece of bad news or bad luck hit them her face returned to this new expression and Besmir hated it.
Arteera clucked her tongue, turning her daasnu away from the edge of the cliff. Besmir watched her straight back sway as she left, cursing himself for not knowing what to do to help her.
Porantillia sent a wave of power at the horse, speeding up its heart until it could go no faster and the delicate vessels covering the great muscle began to rupture. The mare screamed, her front legs buckling as Porantillia destroyed the nerves running to and from the heart, interrupting the electrical signals that regulated the thing. Eventually the horse’s heart could take no further interference and ceased functioning entirely. It had been a slow and painful death, one Porantillia would not have chosen for the beast had she not read the woman’s thoughts that the mare’s odd behavior was because of Besmir.
Porantillia had not bothered to plunder his thoughts or memories when she had wrested control of Besmir’s body, considering them to be far too base and simple to be of any use to her. The woman she was now in control of had extensive recollections of Besmir, however, and Porantillia began to study them as she turned to walk north. She discovered he was able to control animals, using them however he saw fit and made a mental note to watch for any creature that was behaving oddly.
The loss of the mare did not bother the Goddess, she would either find another creature to use or it would take longer for her to walk. Either eventuality would mean she reached her goal and the body she had fashioned.
What body?
Silence, woman!
She snapped the thought across at the other consciousness inside her body as she continued to look through the memories Keluse had of Besmir.
Thee had a child?
Yes, Ranyeen.
Warm love suffused the thought but Porantillia slapped it aside, ignoring the happiness Keluse felt.
At what point did I begin to use thy name? The Goddess wondered. Thy child will likely never see thee again, Keluse. Thou hast forsaken her for the needs of another. A male.
He’s nothing like Gratallach… Keluse began
Think not his name! Porantillia thundered inside her own mind. Think nothing of the great betrayer. His time is past.
Then why do you still love him?
Thou art pathetic in the extreme to believe such. If thy plan is to attempt to persuade me to believe I still have feelings for that one, thou art sorely mistaken.
You’re lying to yourself. Keluse said quietly. But I can see everything. Even the things you hide from yourself and I know you’re still hurt because you still love hi…
Silence!
Porantillia bellowed the word as hard as she could, silencing the woman efficiently. To think that she felt anything but hate for Gratallach was infantile. But then was not hate still a feeling she had for him? To be truly free of any attachment to him would she not have to be indifferent towards him?
Not wanting to do so but unable to stop herself Porantillia considered Keluse’s words as she stepped through the ankle high grass.
Chapter Twenty-One
&nb
sp; “Where are the guards that escorted me to the market?” Collise demanded as she entered the house she had been using.
Branisi stared at the unkempt girl, taking in her red eyes and the angry set of her mouth. Something had happened and she had not heard about it yet but the housecarl thought she was about to.
“If they aren’t with you, highness...” Branisi said, watching Collise’s hands for any sign she might be about to throw fire around.
Since exterminating her mother by accident Collise had started to become angry, unmanageable and a little violent.
“Well they’re obviously not with me, are they Branisi?” The girl demanded with eyes wide. “They haven’t been with me since they abandoned me with everyone else back at the market.”
“Might I ask what happened?” Branisi said cautiously.
Initially she had believed she could befriend the girl, splitting her from her tyrant of a mother and winning her over. As soon as Deremona had been take care of, however, Collise had begun to make demands that meant Branisi had less time to spend with her. Eventually the housecarl had only seen her for a few minutes each day, leaving her alone for hours on end, to think and probably come to the wrong conclusions.
“I burned an old lady,” Collise said with no particular empathy.
“Why?” Branisi demanded as a cold jolt of shock slapped her chest.
“She was nasty,” Collise said, “and they were throwing fruit.”
She pointed to where her dress had been stained, some of the juice still visible on her face and Branisi sighed.
“Why did they throw fruit at you?” She asked gently.
“They all hate me because Tiernon was my father,” Collise said, breaking down in tears.
Branisi put her arm around the girl’s shoulders and guided her towards the rooms she had been using.
“Come on,” she said. “Tell me everything that happened and I’ll see if I can help.”
