Sitnalta (Sitnalta Series Book 1)

by Alisse Lee Goldenberg

  “You—me—this.” She tried to explain, but the words ran from her. She hoped he understood.

  “I do not understand,” he told her. He thought he did. He felt he knew exactly what she was getting at, but wanted to hear it from her own lips. He would not let her get away from him so easily. He promised himself that much.

  “I am nothing,” Aud admitted. It hurt her to say it, and she saw it hurt Gerald to hear it. But she went on in spite of this. “A governess. A peasant at best.” Aud was floundering. “You are so much. You are . . .” She lost herself and gestured towards Gerald.

  “A king?” he suggested. He had thought that was the problem.

  “Yes!” she gasped, relieved he understood.

  “So?”

  “So?” Aud repeated. She cocked an eyebrow at him. “So, we are worlds apart, at least. Furthermore, you are engaged—to Sitnalta—my Princess. The girl I raised. Doesn’t any of this bother you at all?”

  “Is that all?” He hoped he could rectify the situation.

  “What?” Aud was flabbergasted. How could he brush all this away as if it were nothing?

  He smiled at Aud, as she looked away. “I am not marrying Sitnalta,” he told her. She looked at him sharply. “I do not intend to force a fifteen year old girl into a union she obviously wants no part of. Why else did you think I was, and still am, trying to help you stop Supmylo? Aside from the obvious fact that it would get me into your good graces.”

  Aud let out a shaky laugh. “I should have figured out that much. Sire.”

  Gerald winced at the last word. “As for my being a king,” he told her. “I always felt that that enabled me to speak to whomever I wished, plot with whomever I wish, and befriend whomever I wanted.” He held out his hand to her. She hesitated.

  “Walk with me?” he asked her. She still did not take the offered hand. “Please?” he asked again. Aud nodded in response and accepted his hand, taking it into hers. Together they left the room heading towards the gardens. On the way there, Gerald turned to her.

  “If I ever hear you say that you are nothing ever again, I shall be greatly upset. You are a remarkable woman. One I greatly admire.” Aud blushed red. Gerald chuckled. He loved seeing her blush. “You possess great intelligence and cunning. Two fascinating characteristics,” he went on. “Do not let anybody tell you otherwise.”

  “Thank you, Gerald.” She loved being able to call him that again.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  King Gerald sat across from Supmylo at the opposite end of the long table that occupied the center of the dining hall. Conversation between the two men was nonexistent. Gerald watched Supmylo eat from beneath hooded lids. The King of Colonodona was violently stabbing and ripping his steak apart with his utensils. Each slice, each jab with his fork, was a calculated attack against the piece of meat.

  Physically, King Supmylo was not the same man Gerald had met when he had first come to Colonodona. Then, he had been a clean-cut, well-groomed, stately figure that had given off an aura of control and strength. Now, he sat at the table, the long black strands that framed his bald dome hung in oily strings, waving in the drafty hall like a gorgon’s snakes, slithering about his scalp. His beard and mustache had become wild and tangled brambles, growing across the lower half of his face.

  King Gerald could swear that Supmylo had not changed his clothes in at least five days, nor had he bathed from the smell of him. Yet, Gerald dared not say a word on the subject, out of fear for the manic gleam that lay in Supmylo’s eyes.

  Gerald did not know why he had accepted Supmylo's invitation to dinner. In retrospect, it did not seem as if Supmylo had given him much of a choice in the matter anyway.

  Gerald had been sitting in the library waiting for Aud. The two of them had arranged to meet and order some food from the castle kitchen for their dinner. But Aud had not come. Instead, Supmylo had barged into the room slamming open the door. He had stared at Gerald, eyes boring into his.

  “Dinner. Come,” Supmylo had said.

  King Gerald had merely nodded, risen out of his chair, and wordlessly followed Supmylo to the dining hall.

  Now he sat. His appetite had fled from him in the instant that Supmylo had first approached him in the library. King Gerald nibbled at his steak so as not to offend Supmylo by refusing his food. He wondered whether Aud was still waiting for him in the library. Perhaps she had not come at all.

  Gerald did not know which situation would bother him more. Chances are that she merely waited for a moment, saw he was not there, and left. He found himself hoping that this was indeed the case. He did not want her sitting there alone wondering what had happened to him.

  The atmosphere in the hall was oppressive. King Gerald felt stifled, but Supmylo did not appear to notice his guest’s discomfort. If he did, he was indifferent.

  King Gerald did not know how much more of this meal he could stomach. He considered rising from his chair and walking out on his host. He did not care at this point, how angry Supmylo became. He just wanted out. He placed his napkin on the table, and was about to push his chair back and leave, when Ipsinki stepped into the room.

  Ipsinki stepped forward, slowly making his way closer to Supmylo’s chair. He was not far away when Supmylo’s arm shot out and grabbed him in its steely grip. Ipsinki winced in pain, then struggled to regain his composure.

  “Sire?” he squeaked.

  King Gerald dismissed all thoughts of leaving. He sat back and watched the proceedings in interest.

  “Sire?” Ipsinki tried again. “I was told you wished to see me.”

  Supmylo pulled the man closer until their faces were mere centimeters apart. King Gerald feared for the captain’s safety. He saw Ipsinki's knees start to buckle, and he knew the man was moments away from collapsing. He cleared his throat loudly. Supmylo’s head spun and he regarded Gerald as if realizing for the first time that the King was indeed in the room with them. He loosened his grip on Ipsinki’s arm, and the captain gave Gerald a grateful look.

  “Should I leave?” King Gerald asked Supmylo.

  “Oh no,” Supmylo said smoothly. “I will just deal with this matter, and we can go back to our dinner shortly.”

  Ipsinki tried to shrug out of Supmylo’s grasp, and was rewarded with a ferocious look from his King. He meekly relented, and relaxed in his hold.

  “Trying to leave us, my dear captain?” He gave Ipsinki a sickening smile. “Don’t you like our company?”

  “No, Sire,” Ipsinki stammered, “I mean—yes, Sire.”

  “Then why leave?”

  Ipsinki’s eyes darted to King Gerald imploring for aid. His heart went out to the captain, but he was helpless, unsure what help he could give him.

  “I don’t know, Sire,” Ipsinki managed to get out. He stared at the floor, not daring to meet either King’s eyes now.

  “I see. Are you not wondering why I called you here?” Supmylo was tapping on the tabletop with his steak knife, the serrated edge leaving shallow grooves in the soft wood. Ipsinki’s eyes jumped up at the tapping sound, and he began watching the blade dance, eyes full of fear.

  “Yes, Sire,” he whispered.

  “I called you here, Ipsinki, because you failed me. You do realize this, do you not?” Supmylo was not even looking at the man. He too was watching the blade. Though his voice was calm, with every word, he brought the knife down harder, with more violence, leaving deeper and deeper cuts in the table.

  “Yes, Sire.” Ipsinki squeezed his eyes shut and drew a shaky breath. He looked close to tears. His face was pale, and he was shaking like a leaf.

  “What should I do about this, Ipsinki?”

  “I don’t know, Sire.”

  Once more, Supmylo tightened his grip on Ipsinki’s arm. A tear escaped and dropped onto the front of his uniform. Supmylo pulled him in close. “I think you have some idea,” he hissed at his captain.

  “No, Sire. I—really don’t have some—any idea.” Ipsinki was blubbering in fear now.


  Gerald pushed back his chair. He began to rise. He had to help this man. Supmylo heard the chair scrape against the floor and shot Gerald a warning look. He resumed his seat.

  “Ipsinki . . .” Supmylo began.

  “Please, Sire, give me another chance!” Ipsinki cried out. “I beg you! Please!”

  Supmylo pretended to consider this. “No,” he decided. “I do not think that I will.” Supmylo abruptly let go, and Ipsinki went crashing to the floor.

  “Guards!”

  At the King’s call, two armed men entered the hall. They looked nervously at their captain sprawled on the floor. Supmylo pointed at the prostrate man.

  “Take this man to the dungeon,” he told the two soldiers. “Tomorrow when I return, we shall have a public execution.”

  “But . . .” King Gerald looked at Ipsinki. This was insanity.

  “Do you have a problem?” Supmylo looked intently at Gerald. “I know you have a soft spot for castle servants. Does this extend to soldiers as well?”

  King Gerald looked away, face flushed.

  Ipsinki looked up at Supmylo imploringly. “Please, Sire . . .”

  “Don’t.” He kicked the man away, disgusted. “At least go out with some dignity.”

  The two guards grabbed ahold of each of Ipsinki’s arms and dragged him out of the hall. Their faces were stone, not allowing themselves any emotion towards their former captain’s plight. They knew they could easily be next.

  “Well, now I need to find myself a new captain!” Supmylo’s spirits seemed to have lifted significantly, now that he had an execution to look forward to.

  King Gerald looked at Supmylo. He had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. There was something he needed to know. “You said he would be executed tomorrow when you returned. Correct?” he asked.

  “I did. Why? Care to attend?” Supmylo went back to eviscerating his meat with his knife and fork.

  “No, but where are you going?” He hoped he sounded as if he did not really care.

  Supmylo regarded Gerald with a smirk on his face. “Well, my friend, both my men, and yours for that matter, have proven utterly useless in finding the Princess. I am taking some of my soldiers tomorrow, and am going after her myself.”

  It was just as King Gerald had feared. He had known it would eventually come to this. He schooled his features into what he hoped was an impassive expression. “You are? I figured you would eventually.”

  “Yes, I am. It seems to be the only action left to take. You know what they say, Gerald. If you want to find the brat, do it yourself. It is about time she was brought home, especially with her fiancé here waiting for her.”

  “Shall I be coming with you?” King Gerald thought wildly. It was the Princess’s only chance. He prayed the answer would be yes.

  “I do not think it will be necessary,” Supmylo replied. “But do not be too disappointed. I am sure you will find enough here to occupy yourself until I return.”

  King Gerald did not even blink. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Supmylo snorted and took a long swig from his wine goblet. “Do not play innocent with me, my friend. I hear you have been getting friendly with a certain servant here.”

  “I don’t understand.” King Gerald felt a cold weight settle in his chest.

  “Come off it,” Supmylo glared at him. “The entire staff is gossiping incessantly about you and that old bat of a governess. What you do is entirely your business of course, but do not ever think me a fool.”

  “Castle servants always gossip. I would not put much stock in it.” King Gerald tried to wave it off. “I do not think you are a fool. There is nothing between me and the governess.”

  “Really?” Supmylo would not be dissuaded. “I hear the two of you have been holding clandestine meetings in my library day after day. Also, cozy little walks in the gardens together? This does not sound like nothing.”

  King Gerald let out a shaky breath. “We are just acquaintances. She has been telling me about the Princess. If I am to marry the girl, I should know about her.”

  Supmylo let out a barking laugh. “What’s to know? She’s attractive, young, and stupid. That should be enough information. Look, my friend, if you want to woo that brat's governess that is your business. Just do not pretend otherwise around me.”

  Supmylo finished his steak and let out a long, loud belch. He rose from the table. “I have plans to make for tomorrow. By evening, your blushing bride shall be back in her place, where she belongs.” With that, he left the hall, leaving Gerald sitting alone, feeling quite shaken and lost.

  ~ ~ ~

  It seemed like hours before Gerald was finally able to rise from his seat and leave the room. He wandered aimlessly around the castle, not knowing where he was going. He had no destination. He just walked up and down the corridors, not entering any room, not speaking to anyone who crossed his path. His head was full of a fog that nothing seemed able to penetrate. His ears heard nothing. His eyes saw nothing. His thoughts were jumbled, and he did not even realize he had any thoughts to speak of. He just walked.

  It was not until he was actually standing in front of the door, hand poised to knock, that he realized where he had ended up. He knocked, and a sleepy voice responded, asking him to wait a moment. The door opened, and Gerald was presented with the tired, worried face of Aud. She took in Gerald’s pale, drawn face, and she frowned, stepping aside so that he could enter her room.

  “When you did not show up at the library this evening I got worried. I did not know where you had gone.” Aud was walking around, her hands pulling her robe tight around her body, as if she was scared for Gerald to see her in her nightdress. “I figured you must be off with Supmylo, but I hadn’t the faintest idea as to why.” She paused and looked at Gerald. He had not moved from the door. “Come in, Gerald. You will let the heat out.”

  Gerald sighed and came into the room. Aud gestured to her chair. He walked over and collapsed into it. Aud watched all of this, confused and scared.

  “You were with Supmylo. What did he want? What did he say? It cannot have been good. What happened? Gerald, you are making me nervous. Tell me!” She looked frantic.

  Gerald sighed once more. He buried his face in his hands. “He is going after Sitnalta himself—tomorrow—he told me so. He refuses to let me go with him, and he suspects there might be something between us. Aud, I don’t know what to do.”

  Aud said nothing. She stood trembling, staring at Gerald. She looked around the room, letting her mind absorb all he had said. She took a couple of steps and sank down onto her bed.

  “Say something, Aud.” Gerald’s hands muffled his voice.

  “He’s going after her,” Aud moaned. “He’s going to find her, Gerald. That monster is going to find that child and we can’t do a damn thing about it!”

  “That is the situation.”

  “You also said he knows about us?”

  “Suspects something, yes,” Gerald said.

  “What is there to suspect?”

  “The castle has been talking.”

  Aud let out an exasperated sigh. “Let them talk. They always talk. He never paid them any heed before. Why should now be different?”

  “It is different this time.”

  Aud clutched her robe tighter. “Why does he care? What did he say? Listen to me. This is not important. I’m being silly.” She looked at Gerald. “What can we do about Sitnalta? Gerald, I’m scared. I’m afraid for her.”

  Gerald looked up at her. Her face expressed utmost fear. Her hands were grabbing at the fabric of her robe as if it were a lifeline. She looked so small. He rose from his chair and crossed over to the bed. He sat beside her and tentatively put his arm around her shoulder. She leaned into the embrace, drinking in the human contact. She let out a shuddering sob and clung to him, needing him there beside her.

  “I won’t let him hurt her,” Gerald promised her. He meant it. “I will protect her. I will protect you. I promise.”

 
; “Thank you,” she whispered to him, grateful he was there.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It was a burning summer’s day. Walking from cave to clearing was like walking from furnace to oven. Sitnalta did not know which was worse. She could swear the rock walls of the cave were conducting heat, but the air outside was oppressive, and roasting her. She currently sat under the wilting branches of a leaning oak tree with Najort. The back of her dress was glued to her skin. Her hair hung lank and dripping. Najort was faring no better. His head hung down on his chest and his face was flushed. They were taking turns drinking from a bucket, trying desperately to keep hydrated. The water which was once cool and refreshing, was now lukewarm and heating up by the minute.

  “I keep forgetting how hot summer gets,” Sitnalta shifted her position, trying to find a cooler shadow to sit in.

  “How did you usually handle it back home?”

  “I would sit in the hayloft eating apples with Jess and Harold, the stable boys. Then, perhaps, we would fall asleep. Those days were just wonderful lazy days.”

  “Not unlike what we are doing now.”

  Sitnalta let her head fall forward in a nod of agreement. She lay back with her head against the tree trunk. The day’s heat washed over her, lulling her into a peaceful, dozing slumber. She could hear Najort breathing softly beside her, as he too drifted off into a blissful sleep.

  Not too far off in the forest, a group of horses and their riders were pacing the ground restlessly. The horses’ flanks were sleek with sweat, and the men who sat atop them were being roasted in their armour. They watched with shifting eyes, as their leader gazed off into the trees that lay ahead of them. An angry, threatening energy permeated from his tall, muscular figure. He feared nothing, and he expected to get things done that day, whether his men liked it or not.

  They had stopped a moment to let the horses rest, and to drink. It would serve him no good if they were to collapse mid-pursuit. But now he was anxious to get going. She was not going to evade him much longer. Soon she would be returning with him. Her disobedience would end.