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

by Jason Paul Rice

  Jon clarified, “I just need to talk to my wife.”

  Omar responded, “I believe she and Mariah are in the Castle Square, busy at needlepoint, your majesty.”

  Jon quickly said, “Thank you, good man.” As he walked toward the Square, a bunch of guards came running at him.

  Bryan Caughleigh shouted, “Sorry highness, but she’s at it again.”

  Jon asked, “Who?”

  Bryan answered, “Queen of Goldenfield. She’s replenished her forces somehow and hit us with another sneak attack. I’ve already sent all the men currently stationed at every northern guard post and sent word south.”

  Jon ran and got his battle helm and jumped back on his horse. He headed west and hoped Ruxin had listened to him and stayed out of the action. He saw a steady stream of mounted men ahead and behind him as he blended in. He only hoped they wouldn’t arrive too late.

  Damn it all. I knew I should have stationed more men over there. Why did I convince myself she would just go home and Ichibod Ellsworth would be the true threat? She’s just as young and unpredictable as Ruxin. I should have known better.

  The long ride seemed to take even longer today as Jon urged his horse along. He made it through the first wall and speeded toward the second. Jon finally made it to the second wall and came upon a scene of mass confusion. All the mounted men were trying to squeeze through one small opening.

  Jon screamed to Bryan, “Take some men south. About a half mile down there is another door. Come up and hit their flank and rear. And hurry.”

  Bryan Caughleigh shouted orders and men started to follow him south. Jon looked around for his son, knowing Ruxin wouldn’t stay out of the action. The division of forces gave Jon enough room to plough his way to the front and worm through the open gate. He saw the utter carnage as his men were smashed against each other and into the wall, the wall he had ordered to be built to save his men. Some of the stacked up bodies close to the structure almost neared the top of the fourteen-foot high wall. The mass destruction was the worst sight Jon had ever seen and he realized his regal responsibility for the deaths. The men had died in the name of King Jon Colbert. Most of the original fighting force had already died as Jon drew his sword. The King smashed into the northern flank. They couldn’t save the pinned-in men from being crushed, but they did start to overpower the enemy. Jon thought about his son as he rode down an opponent who couldn’t have been a day older than Ruxin.

  C-LEIMUR

  The Queen of Goldenfield didn’t know what to do. She stopped chasing after the short, fat squire who had poked her in the small of the back and searched the chaotic field of battle for the King of Donegal. She jumped into the air to get a better view of the battlefield and saw heavy enemy cavalry storming the northern flank of her forward attack. She looked to the south and saw the same disastrous sight. Her men stopped pressing forward and started to run north and south to stave off the King’s refreshed forces. Leimur tried to scream at the confused men to try to put together an organized attack but disarray reigned on the battlefield.

  Leimur knew her men could taste impending death and even the bravest of men become unpredictable when their time seems near. I hope we already have the King because this is about to be every man for himself if more of the enemy keeps showing up. How can I get out of here alive? I love you, Ali-Tiste. I love you, Huber and Romer. We need the King to get my family back. I really hope we have him.

  She fought through a swarm of oncoming enemy swords and made her way to the outer edge of the heavy action. She saw the gates of the wall and a steady flow of wild warriors funneling out of the opening. She turned around and her remaining fighters were surrounded on all sides. The wall that had been extremely beneficial in crushing the initial stock of Donegal soldiers now became her army’s worst enemy. They were trapped and the Queen understood she needed to escape. An unmounted horse trotted by and Leimur lunged to grab the leather reins. She held on but the scared animal bolted, trying to get away from the Queen. The black beast dragged her through the hardening mud but she maintained her grip and the horse came to a halt.

  The snow had stopped but the chill remained as Leimur got up, steadied herself and hopped up on the horse. She rode northwest by herself and spotted Captain Salina ahead. She spurred the horse with her muddy heels and more earth erupted off the pounding horseshoes.

  She caught up with the Captain, who said, “Right up over here. There is a reserve of escaped men, I’ve been told.”

  She entered the thick woods and a new chill ran over her body. They moved down a hill and Leimur looked to a clearing ahead. There were a good number of her men and prisoners. She didn’t see the King of Donegal. Leimur Leluc debated whether to join her defeated soldiers or leave on her own for Goldenfield.

  D-MARIAH

  “So what exactly did he say again?” Mariah pestered the castellan with the same question.

  Omar Regent spoke in his soft, soothing voice, “Same as I told you the past seven times, my Princess. I understand that you’re worried; we all are. Perhaps this calls for a prayer.”

  Behind the castellan, a bloody and battered Chopkins Haddock stumbled through the door. Mariah ran over and hugged the distraught young man.

  She asked, “Where are the others?”

  She pulled away but still held his arms. The Princess looked behind Chopkins, but didn’t see any other men entering the Princess Hall.

  With a spooked and shameful look on his face, Chopkins said, “She killed them.” He stopped and just looked at the ground.

  Mariah shook him and frantically asked, “All of them? Whom did she kill? Tell me.”

  Chopkins’ lips quivered as he spoke, “J. Everson and Sir Bastion at least. She killed both of them. She was going to kill your brother before I spiked her in the back. She might have killed him and Torvald for all I know. The Queen did this to my face and I ran away. I could’ve stayed, but I ran away.”

  Mariah’s head spun out of control as she needed to know, “What about Torvald and my brother and my father?”

  Chopkins shook his head and said, “I don’t know about any of them. I think Torvald and Ruxin were crushed against that wall. I can’t see how they could have escaped. Your father, I never saw him out there, not even on my ride back. I should’ve gone back and helped them but what did I do? I ran like a coward. I’ve been called that and a craven my whole life and I always had some witty comeback every time. But they were right. All the insults were spot on about me. I’m everything they’ve always said I was and more.”

  Mariah didn’t have time to deal with his shattered confidence and told him, “Stop, Chopkins. You aren’t a coward. So did you see Ruxin and Torvald die?”

  He looked up to a bull banner fluttering from the ceiling and spoke, “I saw two of my best friends in the world, Sir Bastion and J. Everson gasp for the elusive breath of life, only to come up short. Have you ever watched someone die, let alone a friend? They were like brothers and I stood five feet away and watched it all.”

  Mariah was becoming restless and asked, “What about Torvald and my brother?”

  His gaze was still on the banner up above as he answered, “I didn’t see their dead bodies but they were right in the middle of the mess. I don’t see how they could have escaped in any direction. Maybe I could have helped get them out if I had only stayed.”

  Mariah decided to appeal to his favorite vice and said, “Come now, Chopkins, let’s get you a drink.”

  They walked through the Princess Hall where family and friends had gathered in hopes of a happy return. News had already arrived that Donegal had won the battle but none of the men except Chopkins had returned. Another hour went by as the castle bell rang again and Mariah really started to feel ill. As the sun slowly retreated for the day, a haggard crew of battle participants lumbered into the room. She didn’t see her brother, father or husband. More men kept filing in and finally Jon Colbert appeared behind a screen of guards. She ran over and hugged him.

 
She asked, “Where’s Torvald and Ruxin?”

  Jon looked into Mariah’s desperate eyes, lowered his head and slowly shook it from side to side.

  She pounded her fists on her father’s chest and screamed hysterically, “Why did you make him go? I know you and Ruxin made him go. WWHHYY? WWHHYY?”

  Her knuckles bled from the rough armor but she kept punching and slapping until Jon powerfully pulled her in for a hug.

  He whispered in her ear, “We didn’t find them, which could be a very good sign. They might still be out there or be captured, in which case, we will have them home in no time. I promise.”

  Mariah pushed him away and said, “Sure, the same as you’ve done everything possible to get Krys home…except you haven’t done anything. Krys isn’t here, Ruxin isn’t here, and now my husband isn’t here and it’s all thanks to you, your majesty.”

  She backed a few feet away and noticed the bedraggled White Raven walking over from her left. His normal battered look gave the impression that he too had been involved in the mayhem.

  He commented, “Sorry to see this ugly sight.”

  Jon looked at him with unwelcoming eyes and asked coldly, “What do you want?”

  The old man answered, “I often see the rigors of war. Firsthand abuse and the unintended damage that it causes, both carry destructive qualities nonetheless. I see that not even the royal family seems safe as I can feel the worry in the room.”

  Jon responded, “If you stopped by for a philosophical chat, your timing is terribly off.”

  The High Holy Leader had a slight smirk on his face as he said, “I have come to ask for a small team of horses so my brothers and I may go to the battle site. We will administer last rites to the living who have little hope and deliver posthumous prayers to the unfortunate souls who can no longer do it for themselves. From seeing the destruction, I fear this may take several days and we will be blessing the fallen enemy too. How many of the Gods’ beautiful creatures did you strike down in the name of Donegal?”

  A crazed look came over her father’s face and he moved closer to stand almost face-to-face with the High Raven.

  Jon said with a scratchy voice, “Never bring that kind of talk in front of my daughter. I did what I had to do to protect you too, but you’re too foolish to realize it. The stable master will take care of your request. Please leave right now.”

  The King went over to his wife, who wouldn’t talk to her husband. Mariah watched as Camelle kept turning her back on Jon until he became so irritated, he stormed out of the room.

  The White Raven looked at Mariah and said, “I can sense the great sadness but I never provide inspirational words to a wounded creature unless they should happen to seek me out. I shall always be around if you should want.”

  Mariah took two steps over to the old man and hugged him with all of her strength resulting from her pent-up anxiety. His kirtle was shredded in spots and scratched her still sore and bleeding hands but she didn’t care. She needed someone to hug other than her father and she seemed to have a holy connection with the High Raven. His fierce body odor usually bothered her, but she didn’t notice it now.

  She softly pleaded, “Please tell me everything is going to be alright. Can you please do that?”

  She waited for an answer from the holy leader, but instead she heard a voice from behind, “My brother, all is arranged and we are only awaiting your arrival at the stable to perform our duty to the Gods.”

  The White Raven pulled back and told her, “I’m sorry, but I must go now.”

  Mariah interrupted, “Can I go with you?”

  The old man had a look of pain on his face and he quickly shook his head as he warned, “You may not want to see these horrors up close and personal just yet. It might be best to start by blessing a few of the dead at one time, not thousands. You can never unsee man’s destruction of each other. It becomes branded into your memory, never to escape or disappear.”

  Mariah wanted to try to find her husband and Ruxin and didn’t care how many bodies she had to sort through. She needed proof one way or the other.

  She told the older man, “I need to go. The Gods are telling me to go with you. They want me to do this.”

  The White Raven shrugged his shoulders and exclaimed, “Then so shall it be done.”

  THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN SWORD

  “So we’ve reset all the water wells and it looks like we’ve flushed the poison out, your highness,” Tucker reported.

  The Man still didn’t trust the supply and had been drinking wine since the incident. He stared at a pewter ewer as Tucker poured himself a cup of clean water.

  “We will leave as soon as I win this duel,” The Man announced.

  Gamelda warned, “I say we should leave before this fight. I see dark clouds forming and there is no avoiding this storm. We should definitely leave before the fight.”

  The Crippler argued, “And that is precisely the reason you shouldn’t be permitted to talk in these meetings. We’ll be slaughtered if we make a run to the mountains like you’ve suggested.”

  Gamelda glared back at him and said, “Put your hand on the table and prick your finger, good man. Show your king that your blood runs true.”

  The Crippler immediately retorted, “I’ve already proved my loyalty to my king, and I’ve always called him a king, long before you ever showed up.”

  “ENOUGH,” screamed The Man as he slammed his hand on the birch table. He continued in a more relaxed tone, “Gamelda, go wait in my quarters. I shall return shortly. I can’t have this bickering in these meetings.”

  Gamelda stood up and said, “What about him?” She pushed the chair back under the table. The woman waited a few moments as she glared at the Crippler before turning to leave. The men remained quiet until she left the room.

  The Crippler broke the silence, “I don’t know how you put up with her…”

  The Man interrupted him, “Not another word on the subject or you will be sent away too. She’s barely gone and you want to talk about her. Now, have all the men ready to leave immediately after the duel.”

  The Crippler asked, “Are we taking Ali-Pari Wamhoff with us?”

  The Man answered, “They’ve rejected every trade offer we’ve made for Krys Colbert and the Wamhoffs won’t even pay a decent ransom for her. She has no value anymore. Stop wasting food on her.”

  The Crippler asked, “So we should kill her?”

  The Man rolled his eyes and replied, “Yes, that is what I meant.”

  The Crippler lowered his head and said, “Just wanted clarification, my king.”

  They talked for another twenty minutes but the plan had remained the same for months. Everyone knew exactly what needed to be done before the Wamhoffs had washed ashore and thrown off their plans. The Man thought about Benroy’s burial again. He showed little emotion on the outside, but Benroy’s death tugged at his heartstrings. He felt responsible for his friend’s demise and to a lesser extent, for approximately three thousand soldiers who had met their death from the tainted water. When he was a soldier, he only had to fight alongside the other men and follow the General. Now, the men fought for him and the responsibility weighed on him.

  After the meeting, The Man, Tucker and Terry went to check on the newest soldiers. The trio arrived at the training yard and The Man was impressed. The current hiatus had allowed the inexperienced men to practice day and night. The Man noticed a drastic improvement as he watched a series of different drills being executed flawlessly. He noticed that they didn’t need Terry to direct them as some veterans had been helping out when the Training Master had to attend the meetings. The men hadn’t been exposed to the true rigors of war yet, but they weren’t completely green anymore.

  The Man stayed for a few more unit marches and headed back to the castle with Tucker. He looked down at three tree stumps. He remembered when he and Benroy had sat there and he had named his friend as the Falconer of Donegal. In honor of Benroy the Builder, The Man didn’t plan
to name a new Falconer until they had won the crown. He returned to his quarters and heard shouting coming from the door, which was slightly ajar. The Man slowly pushed it completely open and peered inside to see Gamelda shouting at the Crippler. The Crippler had his back to the door and faced Gamelda who didn’t even notice that The Man had entered the room. Her rage focused on the Crippler.

  “I’m looking out for his best interests, too,” screamed the diminutive man.

  Gamelda yelled back, “Then why does he mutter phrases in his sleep about serving you and the demons. You tried to steal his mind.”

  The Crippler retorted, “Stop making things up to cast a dark light on me.”

  Gamelda came back at him. “You might have everyone else fooled but I see who you are. You are the black shadow hanging over him. You are the reason this journey is cursed.”

  “Me, ha, everything was running smoothly until you were dragged in here, completely bound by shackles,” the Crippler responded.

  The Man readied himself to stop the verbal fight until the Crippler suddenly extended his arms and a continuous stream of lightning rays shot out of his hands and crashed into Gamelda. The force pushed his lover back several feet but she stayed on her feet. She started to redirect the sparkling rays back at the Crippler. The force pushed his mentor closer to him. The king put his shaking hand on his sword grip and intently watched the supernatural brawl in awe. He didn’t know what to do. His mentor and lover continued the lightning fight as The Man slowly drew his weapon. The buzzing sounds filling the room hurt The Man’s ears and the smell of burning flesh offended his nose but he watched as the Crippler started to overpower Gamelda and push her backwards. The sorceress fell to her knee and appeared to be running out of strength.