Inaella felt the first inkling of gripping terror take root in the cold corners of her soul. What is this foul voice whispering impossible promises? Am I going insane? Has my mind fractured to the point of seductive voices tempting me into further darkness? Her skin prickled at the wispy sound of quiet laughter.
“Already your mind leads you down roads you wished did not exist. The world has not been kind to you. All you’ve known and loved has been taken, stolen like a child in the night. What allegiances remain for you? No home. No friends. No one to cling to when your bed grows cold from winter’s kiss. This is not life.”
“Your words are poison to me,” she whispered. Tears welled in her eyes.
“Are they or are you so hollow you cannot stand to look back at the truth? There is passion inside you, Inaella. A great fire capable of washing this pathetic kingdom away with its cleansing tide. If only you were strong enough to reach out and take it.”
“Be gone demon, I am no puppet.” She forced the words, praying to the old gods for some sort of intervention lest she weakened and gave in to the dark temptations.
The voice hardened, as if angered by her accusation. “Demon! Why is it you mortals limit the depths of your imagination to demons and witchery? If you only knew the extent of the powers in this world you wouldn’t blind yourselves to simplistic terms. I have walked the kingdoms of this world, crept across the halls of the gods, and seen the death of suns.”
“Yet now you creep in the shadows,” Inaella said. “Show me your face, demon.”
“You mock what your meager mind doesn’t allow you to understand. Be careful, little flower. I can kill you with a thought,” the voice taunted.
She scoffed, all vestiges of fear erased by his inability to materialize before her. “I think you are a coward. Delranan doesn’t need the likes of you, with your smooth words to make it better. We have existed for a long time and no manner of demon will change that! Now, be gone! I will broker no more indulgences from you.”
The shadows strengthened. The hallway grew frigid. Her blood thinned. Plumes of breath steamed from her mouth and nostrils. Her eyes locked on his: bloodless red orbs filled with malice. She felt a part of her die in that moment. Crooked fingers stretched forth from the darkness, reaching for her heart.
“Do not tempt me with your casual stupidity again, Woman, for the next time we meet I may not be so generous,” the Dae’shan warned. “You live only at my whim. Still, I give you the opportunity to rise above all of your base desires. Let me into your mind. Oh what wonders I can show you! Delranan deserves better than the twisted corpse sitting on its throne. You can take that position. All you need to do is reach out and take my hand.”
Inaella collapsed to her knees. Her strength was false. She was found wanting. The temptation to do as he offered almost proved too much. She fought with all she had left, knowing it wouldn’t be enough. Time slowed to a crawl. Fleeting glimpses of her sitting upon the throne, dressed in a bone-white gown with thralls lining the throne room filled her with hope and glory. All would kneel before her and pay homage. She would rule with fire, passion, and, above all, honor. Delranan would grow strong again under her stern tutelage.
She shook her head. It was just a dream. “I…can’t.”
The hand receded. The hate filled eyes dissolved back into the immaterial. “That is…disappointing. Think on your words, Inaella. I will return to you and present my offer one last time. You alone have the potential to change the course of history. Certain doom will fall if you decide to spurn my words.”
He disappeared, leaving her hugging her knees between tear-filled sobs. Inaella lamented all her life had become. Not for the first time she considered running a blade across her wrists.
TWENTY-SEVEN
A Kingdom’s Future
Aurec couldn’t find sleep. He tried reclaiming his old chambers but the majority of the castle had been ransacked to the point of being condemned. All of his old furniture was smashed and used for kindling. Life as he once knew it simply ceased to exist. Several soldiers and guards rummaged through the expansive castle and produced a small bed and night table for him. Attendants he’d told to stay in Grunmarrow until the winter war ended had clearly disobeyed him and unpacked his meager wagon and established a livable bedroom. That was all well and fine, but it wasn’t his room. Aurec felt like a stranger in his home.
He thought fondly back to his nights in the castle with Maleela. She managed to brighten the gloomiest night. Her charm and way that smile clung to her face long after she’d stopped laughing warmed him. Aurec wasn’t especially sentimental but her absence left a great hole in his heart. The war continued, distracting him from finding his love. Or perhaps it was the other way. Maleela’s loss prevented him from giving his total concentration to driving Badron and his Goblins out of Rogscroft. Pulled in opposing directions, Aurec struggled to find a balance that would see the successful completion of both tasks.
Sleep not forthcoming, the newly crowned king of Rogscroft pulled his tired body out of the hard bed and dressed in loose trousers and a wool tunic. Aurec went to the night stand and dipped his hands in the cold water resting in an old metal bowl and rinsed his face. The briskness stole his breath, taking away his unending stream of nightmares in the process. Every time he closed his eyes he saw visions of Maleela being tormented by strange creatures. Fires raged around her. He watched as her will collapsed and she became something…less. Was it all a portent? Was Maleela even alive? His lack of certainty hounded his decisions.
Dressed and wide awake, Aurec donned his heavy robe and headed towards the kitchens. Cooks and supply personnel were busy around the clock fixing and serving food not only to the hungry soldiers but to what remained of the city’s main population. Senior military officers initially protested, claiming supplies were already stretched too thin and feeding the general populace would weaken the army’s ability to pursue Badron. Rolnir quashed that immediately. What better use of their supplies was there than to feed the beleaguered survivors of Rogscroft?
Aurec was able to remain out of the equation. All of it took place before he was even apprised of the situation. Probably for the better, he mused. These were his people. Of course he’d give them all they could eat if it meant they continued to live. That same day runners were sent back to Grunmarrow with instructions to bring everything and everyone. The reasoning was twofold. With the main army situated around Rogscroft proper, the rest of the countryside was exposed for attack should Badron have the numbers. Grunmarrow was no secret. If the king of Delranan wanted to strike a retaliatory blow it would be there. The civilian defenders would fall like harvest wheat and the army would lose valuable supplies and personnel. Aurec needed everyone in one centralized location in order to protect them.
Guards were scattered throughout the castle in pairs in the event the enemy left nasty surprises behind. Aurec rejected the idea until Venten and Rolnir jumped in to change his mind. Rogscroft had already lost one monarch. Losing a second in a matter of weeks would set the kingdom back irreparably. He took comfort from knowing soldiers stood on guard. Whatever treachery Badron had installed would be thwarted by the guards.
He nodded and spent a few moments idly chatting with the guards he passed en route to the kitchen. Most were barely older than he was. It felt strange knowing Rogscroft relied on these boys when so many veterans remained. He lamented it must have always been so. The old grow weak and either retire or are killed, leaving youth to streak to the front of the ranks to carry the colors. That a new generation could willingly step into its predecessors’ shoes to fulfill the oaths to king and land struck a chord with Aurec.
The closer he got to the kitchens the more his stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten since midday, much to his regret, and found he was starving. Bakers already had fresh loaves in the ovens, preparing for the morning rush. Aurec’s stomach tightened in anticipation. He saw the faint orange glow radiating from the kitchens before turning the final corner. This
had always been his favorite place in the castle. The warmth and combination of smells left him in constant anticipation of what the kitchen staff came up with next. He often snuck down here as a little boy to get cookies and treats when his father was busy. Aurec sighed with nostalgia. Life was so much simpler then. Of course now he had total authority to demand what he wanted. Perhaps the trade-off wasn’t so bad after all.
He grinned from ear to ear upon entering the cavernous hall. Entire stags and hogs were being dressed and slow roasted with various spices and oils over roaring fires. A brew master, one Aurec didn’t know they had, busied himself with a harsh winter ale in one of the corners. Soldiers liked to drink, for various reasons, so it made sense to have a supply on hand. Loaves of already baked breads, light and dark, were carefully stacked in one of the warming ovens. As much as he wanted to take one he resisted. The first batches always went to feed the civilians at the gates come dawn. He refused to steal from his own people. That didn’t mean the head cook didn’t have something special set aside for him.
“Your highness, you should be asleep, not down here with the rest of us,” Master Eglyn said with a warming smile.
Aurec gave a customary wave. “A king has the discretion to do as he pleases, at least I thought I had until Venten and the others insisted otherwise. I never thought in all my life that the king was the most powerless person in the kingdom!”
“Your father often said the same,” Eglyn agreed. “He couldn’t get away from it all fast enough to come down here. Most times right after you.”
Aurec felt his mouth open. “I never knew that. My father was always so proper I didn’t stop to think of him as a regular Man. I wish I would have known that. It might have helped bring us even closer together.”
“He was a good Man. A good king. You will be too,” Eglyn said. “I’ve got your bread waiting. Right this way.”
The king fell in alongside the portly cook. “Exactly how long have you been working in the kitchens, Master Eglyn?”
The master cook pretended to think before answering, “Oh, since before you were in diapers. Which, technically speaking, wasn’t all too long ago.”
Aurec frowned briefly. The monarch in him knew Eglyn should be put in his proper place, but the youthful king couldn’t bring himself to alienate one of the men he’d known all his life. There were times when friendship and a warm personality to vent to meant more than the arrogance of kingship. “What keeps you down here?”
“That’s easy. It stays warm. Winters are always miserable this far north. I’m too old to work out in the cold. Don’t mind making bread and such so long as I get to stay warm, and eat my fill of course. Baking is hard work, from sunrise to sundown. There’s always something going on in the kitchens, young Aurec. Eh, Your Majesty.”
“Aurec is fine, Eglyn, just as long as there’s no one else around. I’d hate to think of the tongue lashing we’d both get if Venten heard you be so familiar!” he said and chuckled.
Eglyn nodded eagerly. “Very true. He’s a miserly old fella, that one. A good Man to have in a pinch but he’s gotten hold of my hide more than a few times over the years.”
“You and me both.”
They shared another laugh as Eglyn reached into one of the warming ovens and handed Aurec the small loaf of dark bread with a small cup of fresh butter and mulled wine. He made to head off but Aurec stopped him and invited him to sit. Eglyn ignored the uncomfortable feeling he suddenly discovered and took a seat across the table from the king. Aurec tore the loaf in half and offered part to Eglyn.
“I never enjoyed eating alone, not even as a child,” Aurec explained. “These days everyone wants my time, not my companionship. It’ll do me good to have a normal conversation without the fuss of being king.”
“Sounds to me like you could use it too,” Eglyn said as he lathered a thick layer of the rich butter across his bread. “Suppose we all do from time to time. The boys down here laugh and carry on, even during the worst of times, but there’s seldom any real talk. Guess they all want to leave their troubles behind too.”
Aurec nodded as he chewed. “How long did it take to get the kitchens back up and running? The last time I saw this place it was filled with excrement and broken furniture.”
“Vile creatures, those Goblins. I’d hate to see the way they treat their own caves.” Eglyn’s face darkened. “We spent the better part of three days just cleaning and repairing what was salvageable. Those Goblins did a fine job of turning my kitchens into an offal pit but they didn’t count on my pride of ownership. Worked the lads nonstop, I did. Once it was properly cleaned and ready for visitors we began operations to feed the people. Begging your forgiveness, Aurec, but the people of Rogscroft always came first in my eyes. Soldiers can take care of themselves. It’s the downtrodden ones that managed to live through the occupation I care about.”
“Eglyn, I need the army, but you’re right. They can fend for themselves. You did the right thing. The people must always come first. My father taught me that when I was still sneaking down here for those delightful butter cookies you used to make.”
“What exactly are you doing right now? Venten would have a heart attack if he knew you’d snuck out your chambers and come down here in the middle of the night. He’s already an old man. I don’t want to be the one responsible for sending him to the ground.”
Aurec smiled. “I promise not to tell. How did your family fare during the war?”
Talking about it like it was already over sounded wrong, but Aurec knew, or at least was told, the best way forward was to act like the worst had already passed.
Eglyn took a drink of water from the canteen he constantly carried. “The wife and little ones made it to Grunmarrow before the city fell. Both of my parents weren’t that lucky, nor were hers. At least they were already getting on in their years. It’s all I have to console us over their passing. Do me a favor, Your Majesty?”
How many others found themselves in similar or worse predicaments? A large portion of Rogscroft’s population lay dead under the snow and ice. It would take generations to rebuild. Aurec almost felt bad for whoever had the unenviable task of kingdom rebuilding once he died. Assuming Badron was finally brought to heel and the war ended.
Natural suspicions rose whenever anyone asked him that, but Aurec relented and listened. “What, old friend?”
“Find the bastards responsible for all this and put them to the test. It just ain’t right for a Man to get away with doing this to another.”
They finished their snack in silence. Aurec had more than enough to think about. Sleep was never going to come.
“We’ve been through all of this before,” Venten argued. “Our position here isn’t secure enough to carry the campaign back into the countryside. Refugees are pouring into the city daily, increasing demands on what meager supplies we have remaining. How many of them will freeze to death while waiting for new homes to be built? The castle can’t support the additional numbers and our treasury is nonexistent. You ask the impossible.”
“Badron escaping will put you in a worse position, Venten,” Rolnir fired back. “My Men are tired and ready to go home. They’ve seen enough war to last the rest of their lives but they all understand that this war will never end until Badron is captured or killed and made to answer for his crimes.”
“To what end, General?” Vajna added. “We’ve been over this argument until each of us is so confused we’re arguing for the opposing point of view. We’re getting nowhere.”
Aurec’s yawn echoed around the modified council chamber, causing them all to stop bickering and look his way. What some took as blatant disrespect was actually an honest, heartfelt action from the decided lack of sleep. The king kept his embarrassment to a minimum while they sorted their feelings out.
“The king is right,” Venten said quickly. “This bickering is pointless.”
“Venten, I yawned because I am exhausted,” Aurec said before matters could devolve more. “Thou
gh you have a valid point. We are at a crossroads, gentlemen. Badron must be dealt with, but this city needs to be rebuilt, for more than one reason. Rogscroft was a symbol and needs to become one again. The question isn’t which is more important, but how can we accomplish both at the same time.”
Silence answered him. All of the advisors and senior commanders assembled in the small, octagonal room were seasoned veterans of their profession. They were also singular minded when it came to dealing with matters. Rogscroft was doomed until they managed to overcome their deficiencies and combine their expertise for the greater good of all concerned. Aurec didn’t think they had that kind of time.
“Every day sees more of our citizens arrive with the hopes of us saving them,” Aurec continued, hoping to prod one of them into conversation. “We are managing, if barely, to house and feed them. Those strong enough are being put to work in our reconstruction efforts. Frankly it isn’t enough. We need tools, medicine, crops, and livestock. We need skilled workers capable of bringing this city out of the rubble. Shanty huts and poorly constructed shelters are well and fine for now, but unacceptable for the future. Gentlemen, we are short of every single thing necessary to rebuild and sustain even a small population. You are the smartest Men in this kingdom. Scour the countryside for what we need. General Rolnir, I trust you’ve already enacted what we spoke of the other day?”
They turned as one to stare at the secret shared between king and general. Rolnir rose, grinning like a drunken fool. “Yes, Your Majesty, I have. Companies of cavalry are already pushing north and west to intercept Badron and the Goblin forces. I have permission from Cuul Ol to send Men into the passes to scout a way back into Delranan. If Badron manages to return we will have no choice but to follow and take the war with us.”
The last statement didn’t sit well with him, for he suggested making war on his own kingdom against his own king. How much more of a traitor could I possibly be? But the world needs to know of Badron’s depravity. I only fear that when we return we’ll find Delranan mired in as much desolation as Rogscroft. This war has gone on for far too long already. Even one more death is too many.
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