by Diana Flame
Catrain noticed the sweat on the king’s face and the weakness in his voice. He’d been clutching his chest often throughout the night. She was worried that he might be seriously ill.
They were ready to head out of the channel when Catrain felt she needed to do something before the king became worse. Pulling on Rulf’s arm, she indicated he step aside. He excused himself from the presence of the king and walked with her a few paces outside.
“I think the king is ill,” she said.
Rulf nodded. “Don’t worry, I will take care of him.”
“Should I carry him on my back?” Merek joined the conversation.
“No need,” Rulf replied. “Osorus will be here soon. The King will ride the stallion.”
“Catrain,” Merek addressed her. “Remember what your uncle and I have taught you. Use your weapons as though they were a part of you. Consider the sword, that bow and the dagger as an extension of your body.”
“Why are you telling me this?” she asked. “Aren’t we going back home?”
“No, it’s not safe,” he replied. “You are also in danger.”
“Why me?” she frowned. “It’s the king that Cronus wants.”
Merek took her hand. “Catrain, there something you….”
“Merced,” the king had approached, taking Merek’s arm. “Come with me. You two carry on.”
Merek and the king went back inside the tunnel. Although Catrain could see them, she was unable to hear their conversation. Her father had scores of explaining to do, of that much she was certain. Rulf also seemed a little distant with her since he came to know that her father was a knight.
What puzzled her was that the ancient laws of knighthood were only changed since she was born. Two decades ago, only noblites and half-bloods could become knights. No nether had even been knighted until recently.
When her father rejoined them, she asked him what he was about to tell her. His answer was that Cronus had threatened them all so that put her life in danger as well. The Prime Minister had threatened them, thinking they were traitors of the kingdom. His answer didn’t appease her although she dropped the subject. She made a note to return to it once they were alone.
As promised, a short while passed and the sound of a horse’s nicker came from behind the rock. Rulf trotted out, Catrain following close behind. Osorus greeted his master with a nudge on the knight’s cheek. Rulf returned the affection with gentle caress behind the ear.
When Osorus saw Catrain, she was surprised that the horse left his master and came to nudge her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. Osorus let out a gentle sigh.
“Horse thief,” Rulf teased as he brushed passed them into the tunnel.
“Kissing bandit,” She retorted, grinning at her quick wit.
His light laugh warmed her. Osorus also seemed amused as he let out a soft neigh. Shortly, the Rulf returned with the king and her father.
Osorus stood still to allow the king to mount him. When they would have moved off, Merek stood back. Catrain was confused. She’d assumed they were going with Rulf and the king. Didn’t he say she was also in danger?
“Pa, aren’t we going with them?”
“You go along - I will join you in some time.”
Osorus moved off slowly, Rulf leading the reins. She strode to her father, trying to read his face.
“Where are you going?”
“To see about your uncle and get a few things.”
“I’m coming with you.”
Her father’s voice was sharp, startling her. “You will do no such thing. It is dangerous.”
“But Pa….”
“Listen Catrain,” he softened his voice. “By now you know I am a knight – you know what that means, don’t you?”
She nodded, feeling her disappointment envelope her like a cold coat. Knights were protectors of the king. They led dangerous lives and were constantly a target for evil forces such as Cronus.
“I can move more freely by myself,” he continued. “It will take less time and I can get Brogue out of Frogsgrave and meet you in the mountains in no time.” He brushed her cheeks with the back of his hand. “Take care of the king the way you would care for me. You know the herbs that are good for pain get some on the way and make him medicine.”
“Take care Pa – wait – do you know where we are going?”
“Yes.”
“Come soon,” she said, her voice cracking.
They embraced as fear gripped her. What if Cronus already invaded her home and took Brogue. What did the Prime Minister want with a netherbred family? So many questions ravaged her mind that she felt as though she was buckling under a heavy burden.
Her father kissed her forehead and urged her to catch up to Rulf and the king. She turned to look how far they had gone ahead. The dawn hadn’t completely broken yet. It took some effort to see the silhouette of the horse, and rider waiting some distance away. When Catrain turned back to her father, he was gone.
* * *
Passing through the township of Mary’s gate was like walking a ghost town. Mary’s gate was the furthest hamlet in Cronada almost to the border of the Udony Kingdom. It was well known that Mary’s Gate was the least populated of all the towns and now it also seemed that the people might have evacuated. Catrain wasn’t certain.
They were well into the mountains when the sun rose. Along with the rising sun came dark stormy clouds. The threat of rain was evident which would make the journey more cumbersome, she thought. But Rulf’s reaction surprised her.
“This is good, the rain will help us,” he muttered.
They’d stopped to rest the king when Rulf disappeared and returned with a branch of wild ouiju plums. Catrain loved the wild version of the delicious fruit because they were sweeter. Their bright purple flesh would stain the tongue while the sweet, tangy taste lingered for hours. Of the six fruits, each the size of a baby’s fist, Rulf handed the king three. He then gave her two, keeping the last one for himself.
Thinking that his was not enough, she took the dagger and halved one of her hers. When she handed one half to him, he returned a shocked stare.
“What, can you not take fruit from a nether?”
With a snicker, he snatched the plum and shoved it in his mouth. After breakfast, they moved off again. On the way, she picked herbs that she knew would make good medicine for the king.
The rains began some time during the mid-morning, falling in thin sheets. Rulf stopped to ask if she was able to withstand the chill of it.
“I am fine,” she answered, ignoring the biting cold of the icy drops.
Rulf was right. The rain did help them as it the rain erased Osorus’ tracks. The cool weather also made them move much more quickly than they would have done during the heat of the day. The rain eased a few times, allowing them to warm down before drenching them again. By evening, they were high into the mountains.
“Where are we?” Catrain breathed as Osorus came to a halt.
Rulf tethered him to a tree and helped the king down. Scanning the landscape, she noted that she had a panoramic view of two Kingdom Cities below. Gerdan was to her right and Cronada to the left.
The distinct difference between both cities stood out like wild hog next to a peacock – Cronada being the peacock. Where they were was dense growth. The rains had ceased a short while and now the early evening sun peeped through departing clouds.
“Peak of the Wailing Sun.” Rulf had moved up behind her, standing a bit too close. She felt his body brush her back, sending a wave of warmth through her.
“It’s spectacular!” she exclaimed. “Wont the rebels find us here?”
A sudden breeze rose up, kicking up her hair about her face. The wind was so strong that she was bound to turn and clutch Rulf for support. His arms came up protectively around her.
“No one can find this way unless guided by me,” the silken tone of a woman came from the wind.
As suddenly as the wind had appeared, it stopped. Catrain rel
eased Rulf, turning her head to see where the voice came from. Was she imagining it? Did Rulf hear it as well?
Almost jumping out of her skin, she was aghast to see a woman whose feet did not touch the ground standing a stone’s throw away behind her. Staring back at her were pale green eyes. The woman’s white garment wrapped around her like a sheet and her silver hair brushed her ankle.
“A ghost?” Catrain shivered, shrinking into Rulf’s arms.
Chuckling, he embraced her as she sunk her face into his shoulder.
“The fearless Catrain is scared of ghosts?”
Raising her head, she scowled at him. “You tease me at a time like this?”
“Ha-ha,” he laughed. “This is Esmeralda, Keeper of the Seven Kingdoms.”
Catrain pushed against him, deepening her frown. “And you are now telling me?”
“And miss the chance to see you shiver?”
“You are a scoundrel, you know that?”
“Or perhaps, he wouldn’t miss a chance to hold you close,” Esmeralda said, coming close to them.
Rulf looked away toward Osorus and saw that the king sat, his back against the tree. His eyes were closed as if he was sleeping.
“Let me take you to the safe place,” Esmeralda urged. “It will be dark soon.”
At her words, the king rose, getting back on the horse. He didn’t seem scared or surprised to see the great witch. Rulf glanced her a few times, perhaps thinking she was afraid. Catrain had heard of Esmeralda, and knew she was sent by the Gods. It was her entrance that scared her.
They only ventured a short distance when Esmeralda waved her hand and the mouth of a cave appeared. Catrain had never seen such magic and her mouth gaped. The witch beckoned them to follow her.
“Come,” the witch called. “This safe place is protected and no one can see it without the protection removed. Stay here until you hear from me again.”
“How will my father find us?”
Esmeralda smiled and Catrain noticed how her skin glowed as though she were painted with crystal dust – the shimmering makeup many of the noblite women used. Or so she was told.
“Don’t worry, your father will find you,” Esmerelda replied, turned and disappeared along the path from which they came.
Inside the cave was brightly lit with torches while a fire burned from a stone pit in the floor. There was a large area, with several passages leading elsewhere. As she ventured in, Catrain noted that in the center of the area was a large table carved of stone with a spread food.
The sound of running water caught Catrain’s attention and she moved in the direction of the noise. A brook with clear blue water ran gently from a rock at the back of the cave. Curious about the passages she ventured into one and found it was only a small crevice in the rock.
Following another passage led to a larger crevice. In it were bedding and raiment. Perhaps it was prepared for the king. Catrain returned and set the weapons she’d been carrying against the wall of the cave.
Syreus seemed frailer than before and Catrain worried that he would get worse. Remembering her father’s words, she looked around for something in which to make the medicine. She found utensils made of stone in one corner. While grinding the herbs, she added small amounts of water, enough to make a cup.
After the king had eaten, she gave him her concoction, which he drank in one gulp. It didn’t take long for her medicine to take effect. Soon his eyes drooped and he slumped to the ground. Rulf, picked him up and took him to the area where she’d seen the bedding.
Snuggling next to the fire, Catrain wondered how soon her father would get there and if her uncle was safe. Soon, her eyes blurred as images danced in the films. Before long she was asleep, dreaming of silver haired witches emerging from orange flames.
* * *
The evening sun dipped behind Mount Ore – the mountainous bordering Petaria and Udony. Guinevere stared at the orange glow of its decent, seeing beyond to another kingdom. What her eyes could not see her mind envisioned. His face, his smile and his eyes all stood before her.
She would make Rulf marry her and she knew exactly how she would do it. Leaving the window of the new chamber the king had given her, she readied to meet him. Since she’d been investigating the queen’s illness, the king moved her into one of the royal family chambers instead of the guest quarters in which she’d stayed since her arrival.
Ecstatic that she would begin her journey back to Cronada no later than the following day, Guinevere ordered her servants to pack her belongings while she went to meet with King Christoffle.
The throne room was empty except for the king and his guards. She figured he must have sent everyone away when she’d sent to inform him about her arrival. He was a discreet man and she respected that about him.
Upon entering the room, she paused and waited for his acknowledgement. When he noticed her, he signaled for her to approach the Dias.
“I take it you’ve had a good rest, Lady Guinevere,” he stated. “You look quite radiant, I must say.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“I am quite anxious to hear your wish.” Christoffle rose from his seat and came to stand an arm’s length away from her. “What do you want - a plot of land, your own castle, a township named after you?”
“No, my lord, nothing as extravagant as anything you mentioned.”
“What is it then … a horse or perhaps jewelry?”
Guinevere was more nervous now than she anticipated that she stumbled over the words. “I-I wish to….”
Before she could finish, the First Minister of Petaria rushed in. “My king, there is grave news!”
“Nemrod, what is so urgent that you have disturbed me?”
The man bowed low. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, there is grave news from Cronada.”
Christoffle’s eyes widened. “Tell me.”
Guinevere’s heart did a somersault as she anxiously awaited what the man had to say about her uncle. Did something happen to Syreus? Did Cronada lose the war or worse … was Rulf in danger?
Nemrod turned, signaling a man standing at the door to enter. Guinevere recognized his tunic as a messenger of Syreus. Her heart thudded heavily as he palms sweated. What news did he bring?
The man approached and knelt before the king, handing him a letter with the king’s seal. Christoffle took the scroll then glanced at her, his eye betraying nothing. Anxiety made her bite her lip and she waited to hear what the letter said.
Christoffle scanned the contents, lifted his head to give her a grave stare. After some moments, he returned to his reading. This time he read aloud.
“King Syreus has abdicated the throne after being accused of a crime. Prime Minister Cronus has taken command of the army and the entire Kingdom of Cronada.”
“Crime?” Guinevere quickly stepped close to the messenger who stood to his feet by the king’s order.
“Yes, my lady,” the messenger replied.
“What crime?” her voice rose a notch. “He would never do anything to dishonor the throne.”
The messenger cringed at her voice before glancing at the king. “King Syreus has been accused of having a dergabred child.”
Guinevere felt the relief wash over her like cool water on a hot summer day. She laughed as she realized this must be some prank. Was the king outside while trying to surprise her? Christoffle was his close friend and this was something her uncle would do.
“I knew this was some joke,” she said. “Is he outside trying to surprise me?”
She turned and was about to leave the room when the messengers next words stopped her.
“No, my lady. The king has disappeared with his daughter and the knight Rulf.”
Whipping around, she strode back to the man. “Are you saying that my uncle has bedded a nether and produced some dergabred child?”
“Yes, Madame.”
“No, that’s impossible,” she denied, unable to believe such idiocy. “Who is this child – how old is she?”
“I don’t know her age, Madame,” the messenger said before his face broke into a wide grin. “But she is quite beautiful.”
“Enough! Can a dergabred be beautiful?”
“My apologies, my lady.”
Christoffle joined her side. “Calm down Guinevere. Beauty they say is perceived by the one whose heart flutters at the sight,” he said, then turned to the messenger. “What else can you tell us about this dergabred?”
The man seemed subdued at Guinevere’s scolding. He lowered his gaze to the floor as he spoke to the king. “There are many rumors, Your Majesty. I was there when they brought her before the king. I barely escaped with my life. Had it not been for Rulf, I’d be a dead Kisalese.”
At the sound of Rulf’s name, Guinevere gripped his arm. “What about Rulf?”
The king glanced at her with a knowing look in his eye. She ignored it as she anticipated the man’s response.
“Rulf took the king, Catrain and Sir Merced through the secret tunnel.”
“Who is this Catrain?” she asked, confused.
“That’s the name of the child … er … woman – the king denies this. She is still considered a nether until proven otherwise.”
Catrain? Where had she heard the name before? Guinevere ran through her mind the names of all the maids she knew in the palace back home. Nothing surfaced. The name was that which was often given to a noblite or royalite. How dare they give such a name to a derges child?
Still, she could not get the name from her mind, as she was certain she’d heard it before. There was no one by that in in all the Cronadian palace. Had she heard it in passing or was it since arriving at this palace.
About to erase the thought from her mind and get back to her uncle, a flash of memory sent a wave of rage rushing through her. Her fists curled at her side as she recalled the last night Rulf summoned her to his room.
She closed her eyes as the memories flooded her. ‘Wear a netherbred frock when you come,’ the note had said. ‘Now you will please me Catrain, and you will do it until I am very happy with you,’ he’d said with his own lips.
Rulf used her to satiate his desire for this Catrain. How dare him! Anger coursed through her like river overflowing its banks. Being a half-royal gave him no right to treat her like a replacement.
