Six Heads One Crown (The Pearl of Wisdom Saga Book 3)

by Jason Paul Rice

  Reluctantly, Deydranna started to talk as she brushed Mariah’s frizzy hair. “He was King of Donegal and he was a great man.” That eliminates Ali-Stanley and Ali-Tersen straight away.

  Deydranna went on, “He come to me for help. He want to marry Queen of Goldenfield to unite kingdoms but he never pleasure a woman before. He want to use me to make him better. We only make love one time but the King is strong. I cry for three days after he die. King Ali-Ster is the greatest man I ever know and I have his baby.”

  “From all I’ve heard, Ali-Ster was a great man,” Mariah responded. She was blown away by this confession.

  “You shouldn’t tell. If you tell, they will kill my baby,” Deydranna uttered frantically.

  “I promise I won’t tell a soul about this,” Mariah said, realizing this would be a hard secret to keep.

  “Can I tell you a secret?” Mariah asked.

  “Yes, yes, anything,” Deydranna responded.

  “I don’t know if you know about how King Ali-Stanley attacked my father last spring,” Mariah said.

  “Yes, I remember when they drag him into the castle. Blood cover his face and body. Ali-Ster say his father send him away so he can con…con…conduct dirty actions,” Deydranna told her.

  “Yes, he was probably sent away because he had too much honor. That seems to be the fastest way to get killed in this realm. Well anyway, it was believed that I was coming to the Capitol to be wed to Prince Ali-Ster. Little did I know, I was being used as bait to lure my father in to further his grudge with King Ali-Stanley,” Mariah started to get emotional.

  “I’ve been here ten years now. I came as little girl. I see and hear so many bad things. The only time I see hope was when Ali-Ster puts on the crown. I love him still with my whole heart. I will never need a husband. I have a King, always in my heart.” Deydranna talked glowingly in one breath and with agonizing heartache in the next. Mariah could easily see that she genuinely loved Ali-Ster. Deydranna continued to talk as she helped Mariah get dressed. The handmaid then led Mariah to the dining hall to break her fast.

  Mariah saw a teary-eyed Chopkins Haddock first. She sat down next to her stoic betrothed and kissed him on the cheek. Nobody spoke about the Duke and Duchess and the subdued demeanor of the normally high strung group showed a true sadness. Callice slowly plucked at his psaltery to break the silence but the rest of the meal drew a somber tone. After breakfast, Mariah excused herself to reprise an activity she had practiced in Mattingly.

  Being a staunch servant of the Seven Gods, Mariah often went and prayed for the most destitute of the Gods’ creatures. She grabbed a large candle and headed for the dungeons. Most of the condemned men wouldn’t talk to her after finding out she was only there to pray for them, not release them. Mariah still prayed for the men, begging the Gods to show them the eternal light so they could seek forgiveness before death. She came up to the last cell and noticed a plump, ginger-haired young man.

  “Merciful Gods in the heavens, please guide this prisoner toward wisdom. Help him to see the light…”

  Mariah was cut off by the prisoner, “Merciful Gods, ha, no such thing. If the Gods were merciful, I wouldn’t be starving in this cell.”

  “You are in the dungeons for a reason, I am sure,” Mariah reminded him.

  “I am. And I’ll tell you the reason. My greatest crime is being born Wamhoff. How do I change that? I can’t change who I am. No, the merciful Gods decided that because of my father’s mistakes I should stand and answer. I had nothing to do with any of his plans as I was sent away to Cloverfoot. Now I wait for the new King to make a spectacle of me in a glorious public killing. I know I have no value for a ransom, so what will it be? Hanged, beheaded, quartered perchance? Yes, the people would love to see Prince Neron Wamhoff’s head on a spike,” the prisoner revealed.

  “My father is not like that. He put you here because you are a Wamhoff, that is true, but he has no intention of killing you. You have to understand that your father and uncle tried to kill him and our family. He may provide you with better accommodations when you prove you can be trusted,” Mariah told Neron.

  “I suppose that’s a touch encouraging. Have they captured my father yet?” Neron asked.

  “No, but they aren’t aggressively hunting him down. Your father doesn’t serve a threat to the kingdom right now as there are others coming after the crown. This may seem queer to hear but you may be safer in this dungeon than on the run with your father. That man will be lucky to escape the kingdom alive,” Mariah said.

  “I get mad at people judging me for being Wamhoff, but I always judged my father for being born albino. He loved me greatly, but everyone saw me as the little albino. I was always looked at as my father’s son, not Neron Wamhoff. It mattered not that I had the true red hair of a Wamhoff. When I failed with a sword, everyone said, ‘he’s definitely Tersen’s son’. But now that he’s gone, I realize he and my mother were always by my side, protecting me. Now, I have nothing. I have no one,” the young man started sobbing.

  “You have me and you will always have seven friends. When everyone abandons you, it’s best to stay close to our Seven Gods. When I was lost and alone in the Fox Chapel woods I saw death as the most likely outcome. I prayed and prayed and the Gods sent someone to rescue me. Now the Gods have sent me to help you. I will talk to my father about putting you into some nicer accommodations. But if you act out of order or do anything foolish, you’ll be sent right back down here. Remember, stay close to the Gods and accept them into your heart,” Mariah said.

  “Thank you,” Neron returned.

  Mariah turned around to leave and saw a dirty-faced man approaching.

  The man spoke, “What in the heavens is a beautiful young woman doing in these grungy dungeons?”

  “I come to pray for the desolate. Every man and woman is loved by the Gods and deserves to have their final pleas heard,” Mariah said.

  “What a charming attitude to have. Wait, are you...?” he held his lantern closer to Mariah’s face and talked again, “Why are you, you’re the Princess of Donegal?”

  “Yes, I am. And who are you?” Mariah questioned him.

  “My name is Orian Vangor and we seem to share the same conviction. Hope, faith and charity. Your father has asked me to reform the religious order of the realm. A princess who displays the same values as yourself could be a great rallying point for all the lower citizens. If they see a princess who puts them on equal ground as her King father, hope could flourish. Faith could spread and others will be encouraged to be charitable with their poorer brothers and sisters. Stories would spread and this movement could bloom like a beautiful daisy. Think on the matter. You could be instrumental in making religion pure again in Donegal. Princess,” the man said without bowing and walked away.

  Mariah remembered her father talking about Orian. Jon had said that he had almost gone mad because of all the corruption in the church system. Mariah viewed him as a man with strong conviction, and the offer intrigued her.

  The Man with the Golden Sword

  “I think that to be a foolish idea,” Gamelda opined.

  The Crippler quickly retorted, “And when did we start taking battle advice from a woman?”

  “Enough, both of you. I get it already. You hate his ideas and he hates your ideas. If we can set aside these petty quarrels and get back to winning a war, that would be superb,” The Man sounded more like the teacher than the student.

  His war council sat in a makeshift meeting room near the Blue Cap Mountains. The pavilion rippled from the swirling wind gusts coming in from the raging waters of the fjord and the constant sound annoyed The Man.

  He stared at the map-covered table as he spoke, “How many men can we sacrifice here and still make it to Falconhurst?”

  “That’s an almost impossible number to arrive at but the unfortunate fact remains we can’t afford to lose any men. With the news of Duke Colbert’s takeover, the Capitol is under much better protection. Why couldn’t the cow
ard albino king stay and at least kill a few of our new enemy?” Benroy asked listlessly.

  “We waited too long. I called to leave all along, but everyone said we weren’t ready. We would have been in a much better position if we had taken the King’s Castle and tried to protect it from Jon Colbert. What’s the situation with the hills, Benroy?” The Man wanted to know.

  “Advance scouting has spied a few hundred men around the passes. If these tunnels and secret exits are real, then we can easily surprise and crush the enemy, but we must act fast. The time to move is now,” his advisor said pointing at the map of the secret tunnels.

  The Man was pleased with the progress of the army of men. They were ahead of schedule for the current march and The Man with the Golden Sword remained confident that he could defeat the new King in battle. His worry was that only one high lord had supported him but with a new regime, Lord Harolg Cuthbart could shift his allegiance. The Man swore that after he took over as king, he would kill all the nobles who had turned their noses up at his offers. The meeting ended and the folded canvas opening revealed that the sun had been lost for the day.

  He followed Gamelda to his tent, went inside and sat on the bed. He peered into her green eyes and said, “Let’s look at it again. I know I’ll see something this time.”

  “No. You need to relax and stop worrying about it so much. When the time is right, you will know,” Gamelda said.

  “I think the time is right, right now,” he pleaded.

  “Perhaps you won’t know when the time is right if you think it’s now. I can tell you, it’s not going to happen right now. Your soul is becoming lighter but there is still some weight that needs to be shed. I can see it in your eyes, my love,” Gamelda smiled.

  The Man became quickly irritated because he hadn’t got his way with the future skull, and sourly said, “This nonsense with you and the Crippler has got to stop.”

  “Then tell him to stop constantly attacking me out of jealousy of what we have,” Gamelda responded.

  “Enough. You’re not going anywhere and neither is he, so you are going to have to work with him. We cannot have constant squabbling in every meeting. I will talk to him and demand the same civility from him,” The Man stated.

  “I am always civil…alright, I will try,” Gamelda started and corrected herself with a sexy smile. The Man jumped on his lover and began to pull up her dress.

  A screaming voice came from outside, “My king, there’s a dire matter to discuss.”

  “Go away or die,” he screamed toward the door.

  “Urgent matter. Life or death, my king,” the voice of Tucker came through the massive tent.

  “This will be your death if I don’t deem this as urgent,” The Man muttered as he went through the opening.

  Tucker saw the angry look on the king’s face and talked fast, “My king, this could be your life or death. We’ve just received word that an army is marching toward the Ridge Cliffs in an attempt to seize the capitol. We don’t have the castle or city very well protected except for the city gates. If they breach the gates, they will gain a powerful stronghold. If we move ahead and they trap us in the passages, we will be slaughtered like sheep from both sides. But if we go back, we get farther from the King’s Castle.”

  “Who leads this army?” The Man asked.

  “Someone we know all too well, Ali-Samuel Wamhoff,” Tucker responded.

  The Man’s heart sank. He didn’t fear Ali-Samuel in battle but he did consider the great warrior an equal on the killing field. “He must know something we don’t. How close are they to the gates?” The Man wanted to know.

  “They landed up shore but they are approximately as far away as we are. We need to race back if we want to hold Elkridge,” Tucker counseled.

  “Who knows about this?” The Man asked.

  “Just you and I, unless the messenger had opened it and perfectly resealed the parchment,” Tucker replied.

  “Wake everyone. We need to hold Elkridge from Ali-Samuel. He presents a greater threat to us right now,” he ordered.

  “Are you certain, my king?” Tucker wanted to confirm but a stern look from The Man proved his conviction. Tucker ran off to alert the men of the new plan.

  The Man with the Golden Sword went back into the tent and said to Gamelda, “We need to leave now. We need to find the fastest horses and get to the northern gates.” He noticed she had already been readying herself to leave when he entered the tent. A frantic scene ensued as the chosen soldiers scrambled to hustle back to Elkridge.

  The Man and Gamelda galloped for fourteen hours before stopping to rest for a few hours. They got back on their mounts and repeated this pattern twice before The Man saw the southern gates of Elkridge. The guards let him in and his destrier bolted across the city limits. He was so exhausted, he couldn’t imagine fighting a battle, but he pressed on. The Man navigated through the panicked city and fought against the people rushing south. As he neared the north gates, he heard the ear-crunching sounds of wood pounding wood. The Man became nervous when he saw the tall city gate bending in as a battering ram methodically slammed into it. Splinters shot skyward in the fire-lit night. His dutiful men were being knocked backwards violently as they valiantly tried to hold out the enemy.

  The Man with the Golden Sword looked around quickly and started shouting orders, “Get the siege towers over there. Push them up against either gate and put the trebuchets behind them.” Saddle sore and worn, The Man helped his men move them in front of the collapsing doors. The trebuchets were moved in and another siege tower was placed behind that for good measure. Suddenly, the pounding stopped.

  A-Emilia

  The ramming sounds slowed and finally came to a stop. The city gates were at the top of the steep cliffs but Emilia could barely see what was going on. She had run to a hilltop to get a better look at the action despite numerous warnings from Ali-Samuel to stay on the sandy plateau below. Emilia saw the men angrily slam the boat they were using to bash the gates to the ground, shattering the wooden vessel. She noticed the group moving back down the hill and rushed to beat the crowd. She arrived back at the safe area and joined Pariah and Princess. The disgruntled officers came back muttering to each other. The evil look on Ali-Samuel’s face prompted Emilia not to engage him in conversation. An eager young squire who was left behind foolishly asked, “Sir Ali-Samuel, did we get in?”

  The despondent knight calmly walked over to the young man and punched him square in the jaw, knocking the squire out. “Stupid boy,” exclaimed Ali-Samuel before storming off.

  They retreated down the hillside until they hit another level area to set up camp for the night. They had lost the ships carrying the camping supplies, so most of the people had to sleep under the stars. The Histoman didn’t seem to mind but the western men weren’t coping well with the rugged conditions. They were used to much nicer accommodations, even on the battle front.

  The next day, the group traveled down the hill and set up operations on a beach with a nearby port. Emilia sat in an ill-crafted pavilion to meet with the war council. Ali-Steven spoke, “Both northern and southern gates are on a hill. They can be easily defensed by the bastard now.”

  “What if we juth march around them?” posed Sir Ralph.

  “We will just get squashed in the Blue Cap passages. That’s why The Man with the Golden Sword came back. He must know something we don’t to back away from his ultimate prize. Why is this stronghold so damn important?” Ali-Samuel rhetorically asked.

  “He must know we can’t lay siege to the city, but how much food can they have inside those gates? Can they survive a harsh winter?” Ali-Steven wondered aloud.

  “Can we lay thiege? If we take control of the Beachwood Port, we may be able to stharve them out,” Sir Ralph said.

  “We would have to steal from most of the vessels and they would stop coming to the port once word got out. We should try to buy grain and send scouts to look at the surrounding cities for items we could take if necessary.
I just don’t see us being able to lay siege to that city. We don’t have the resources to sustain a siege,” opined Ali-Steven.

  A balding man popped his head into the pavilion, then entered carrying rolled vellum over to Ali-Steven. The elder Wamhoff broke the seal and moved his lips as he read the letter silently.

  He lowered his head and spoke softly, “This is awful news. If this is true, we have a new king. Duke Jon Colbert is a duke no longer. King Jon rules the realm and his younger brother now serves as Duke of Mattingly. Instantly, we have to defeat a mighty enemy, the likes of which we aren’t currently prepared for.”

  Maybe this wasn’t meant to be. First, we lose half our fleet. Then we can’t take this city that seems to be so important, and now this. The odds are stacking against our cause. Ali-Samuel and I should escape this nonsense and go to an exotic land to live out our days in peace. That’s what he promised me but we appear to be getting farther away from that dream. Maybe now that the Wamhoffs aren’t ruling and revenge has been removed from the scenario, he will soften his stance and simply walk away.

  “Can we scale down the beach and move around the Blue Caps?” Emilia asked.

  “We would have to get around the fjord and back to the coast but they will be well-defensed once word of our arrival reaches Falconhurst. Our hand seems to be forced on this issue,” Ali-Steven answered.

  “Are there any lords or ladies that we could form an alliance with?” Emilia asked.

  “If we had landed with full forces, then maybe. With this mangled operation full of perceived barbarians, no one will want to ally with us. We are going to have to take the castle by force, not diplomacy,” Ali-Steven said.

  “What about The Man with the Golden Sword?” Emilia questioned.

  “What about him?” Ali-Samuel snidely retorted.