by Jon Kiln
Now he had their attention, he would instruct them of the Queen’s wishes.
“We have just finished a war. Our kingdom is in no hurry to be making rash decisions. The people need peace for a while, not changes. You must understand what your Queen has gone through. Now we must leave her to grieve her parents, let her have a mourning period. I’m sure even the politicians amongst you understand this human need.
“I will act as her representative. All your messages will be relayed to our Queen and all unimportant decisions can wait. I will be announcing to the citizens of the Kingdom of Palara that there is going to be a period of mourning for King Ludwig and Queen Alissia. It is only respectful and proper that we put them in our thoughts, even if only for a short while. That includes nobles and politicians.”
With the end of his speech, he bowed to the frowning faces and made his leave. He would have to face them again the next day, but for the rest of today, he would avoid them like a plague.
The Queen had called upon one of her faithful nobles, the young Lord Parsival of Ival Hold. He had been one of the first to come to her aid and had even attempted to assassinate Harald. For his troubles he had been incarcerated in the castle’s dungeons and no doubt treated with cruelty.
Since his release, once the throne was taken back by the rightful owner, she had come to trust his judgment. Artas also liked Lord Parsival and was glad for his council. Together they would run the Kingdom in the Queen’s absence.
“Bravo, Artas,” Parsival greeted him as he arrived back from his meeting with the nobles and politicians. “I heard your speech, very authoritative. That should placate them for a day or two.”
Artas smiled as he received the liquor that Parsival had poured for him in a beautifully cut glass goblet. It burned his throat and made his toes tingle, but it hit the spot.
“I think we’re going to be needing a few of those over the next few months,” Artas declared.
“Fear not, Artas, for we are not alone,” Parsival assured him. “There are few nobles that the Queen truly trusts, but there are enough of us to carry this deception through for a short while. No harm will come to her Kingdom and she shall rule all the better for having her grandmother by her side. Relax, the first day is over and all has gone as planned.”
Artas sat in a large cushioned chair and remembered his lost friend, Zander, who had been killed by a dragon on their quest to try and rid the land of Harald the usurper. Zander had been Duchess D’Anjue’s Chief Advisor, and he wished he were here now, to advise Artas.
Whilst he knew he had trusted nobles on his side, ultimately all decisions were to be on his head. Myriam must truly trust him to have ordained him Regent, and this thought cheered him. Though they had played together as children, and adventured together as adults, they were yet to spend time together socially.
He looked forward to Myriam’s return once her grandmother was safe. It would be a time for peace and relaxation. That time would come soon. He just needed the patience that he had asked of the nobles.
Lady Leonie walked into the room. She was also one of his loyal advisors. It was a pleasure to watch her enter the room so gracefully, for she was a beautiful and cultured lady.
“How are you both bearing up?” she asked, knowing Parsival would be fine, but also that Artas was still grieving his parents’ death. He rarely showed his grief, but Leonie knew him well and could still see the pain of loss in his eyes.
Leonie too had attempted to assassinate the false Regent, along with Parsival, and like him she had spent a while in the dungeons. It was about that failed attempt that she was here now as she had recently learned of who the betrayer had been on the eve of the assassination attempt.
“I cannot see how the news I have to tell you should affect our temporary running of the Kingdom, but I do believe that Parsival deserves to know who betrayed us.”
This had Parsival’s attention and he stood up. He had often wondered who could have known, other than the loyal nobles involved, and none of them would have sided with the usurper.
“It was the monk, the one that you said was last seen with the Duchess. I found out from one of the guards who was posted with Duke Harald. He was there during one of his conversations with the strange little man,” Leonie finished.
“You mean, Ghaffar?”
Leonie simply nodded.
9
Queen Myriam had only met Qutaybah once, and that had been fleeting. After she had regained her throne, she had never really had the chance to thank him, for she knew he had played a part as he was allied with her grandmother.
He took her hand in greeting as they arrived in one of his many homes. He had specifically chosen this one as it was nearest to the border. His large dark skinned hand encompassed hers, delicate and pale in contrast.
“Any who are aligned to the Duchess D’Anjue are welcome in my home and in my lands. I will provide you with safe passage, Queen Myriam, for I wish to see the Duchess back in her homelands,” he said. “My only regret is that I did not secure her safety before I left your Kingdom. I had not realized that she had been taken.”
“Nor we,” Myriam responded, annoyed at herself for not seeking out her grandmother as soon as she had arrived back at the castle. Though she had probably been long gone by then. “We had word that she had been released from the dungeon and I think we all presumed her safe. The sly monk had slipped her away from under my nose, and I will have her returned at all costs.”
“Please, let us sit and eat,” Qutaybah opened up his arms, welcoming the small party to be seated upon the plush cushions. He gestured at a table where a variety of fruits, cheeses, meats, plus servants, awaited upon their pleasure.
All took a seat with the exception of Ganry. He was always on duty to protect his Queen, even if this Qutaybah was meant to be an ally. Ganry would eat when his Queen slept. For now, he would listen and observe. Later he would learn much information from the gossiping slaves and servants.
“I have heard of this Ghaffar, he is an elusive creature. He dwells in the forbidden lands of the underground dwellers. We call them the Akkedis Mense. My country has many riches under its soils and most of it is mined, but the forbidden lands are never entered by the wise. This is where the Akkedis Mense dwell and none would wish to stir up their nests. Ghaffar is a chameleon. He can disguise himself as many creatures. Your people have seen him as a monk, mine have seen him as a rich merchant. Whatever disguise he wears, he is a reptilian by heart. He is an ambassador of his people, the Akkedis Mense.”
“You have given us much information to ponder, Qutaybah, I thank you for your openness,” Myriam said.
“My people are familiar with a legend of the Rooggaru, which you call Akkedis Mense,” Linz spoke up, remembering what had happened the night he lost his uncle. “Ghaffar had one of these creatures with him whilst he lived at the temple near my home. It was a vile and vicious monster and killed Chief Clay by draining him of his blood. If Ghaffar is a Rooggaru, or Akkedis Mense, then I do not think he can be trusted.”
“We may have something that he wants,” Hendon spoke. “Why else would he take the Duchess other than to lure us there to rescue her?”
“He seemed a kind man when he brought my grandmother’s men to me. They had been searching for me in vain until he showed them the way. I believe whatever he wants must be connected to the D’Anjue bloodline,” Myriam shared her thoughts. “I also believe it must be something we are loathe to give up, otherwise he would have just asked us, surely?” she added.
“Well,” Ganry finally said, wanting this meeting to end, “we won’t know until we meet them in person, and as the journey there is long and perilous, I suggest an early night.”
He hoped this would encourage Myriam to see that there was no more to be learned here, and retire to her rooms. There she would be safely in one place, and he could mingle amongst the household to find out any real secrets. Slaves do not do the bidding of their masters, voluntarily. A few coins in the
right direction and he should find out all he needed to know.
He glanced over at Qutaybah. He was fearsome looking, very powerfully built and completely bald. Ganry did not trust him despite his proclamation of friendship to his Queen. Having been a mercenary himself, he knew that his sword had gone to the highest bidder. What if this bald man was playing both sides? What if he was just luring them into a trap? The sooner they were away from here, the happier he would feel.
“I personally cannot guarantee your safety, Queen Myriam,” Qutaybah’s deep, rumbling voice said. “Instead, I will send one of my most trusted guards with you. I would like to introduce you to Perseus. He is to be your guide while you are traveling in this region, and he will take you deep into the forbidden lands where many of my people do not dare to tread.”
Ganry looked at the huge warrior who had just entered the room. He was nearly twice the size of himself. He wondered at how much his role was meant to be as a spy, and how much as a guide. He knew that their guide would be doing Qutaybah’s bidding, and not theirs.
“Perseus is a welcome addition to our group of travelers,” Myriam thanked Qutaybah, for she knew they could not do this quest without his help. “Once again, my family owes you thanks for the kindness that you show us.”
Myriam was not fooled by Qutaybah’s kindness. She knew it would come at a price, but her grandmother could negotiate that once she was free, for this was her ally.
Linz was awed by the huge warrior, Perseus. So much so that he could not resist getting up from his seat to prod him and check if he was real.
“I think with Ganry, Wyatt, and Perseus, we will be unbeatable indeed,” Linz laughed, and he was not without his own skills when it came to battle. He felt secure that Myriam would be safe in the hands of such companions.
Hendon played no part in the amusement of the new group member. Instead, he would be relying on his magic, not his muscles, which could not be compared to the fighters in the group. But nor could any of them talk to the animals and to nature itself. Since accepting the Berghein stones as his bloodline right, his skills had been enhanced to such levels that he would never want to be without his magic ever again.
“That’s settled then,” Queen Myriam announced. “We are now a group of six. My grandmother will be most grateful upon her return.”
With this Myriam stood and said her goodbyes, agreeing that Ganry would organize their departure with Perseus so that they could all leave the next morning.
10
“Has the Duchess been treated badly?” Ghaffar asked, knowing the answer already.
“Ghaffar, you know perfectly well that your people are treating me with the utmost respect. What I’m trying to convey to you is that you have gone about this in the wrong manner.”
“Are you saying that had I asked you for the Berghein stones back, you would have willingly given them, knowing that your magical skills will be weakened?”
“That depends upon your reasoning as to why we must return these stones. Do you have proof that it was your people who gave the stones to the D’Anjue ancestors in the first place?”
The Duchess was always open to reasoning, but Ghaffar had provided none, and she could not know whether he simply coveted the stones for underhand reasons. Besides, descendants of her bloodline had only recently found all the Berghein stones and brought them together. They would not give them up easily, especially as a D’Anjue now served on the throne.
These stones would help prevent any more attempts to unseat the true heir. They would protect Myriam and any heirs she produces. How can this little man, who calls himself a monk, expect her family to simply hand over the stones to them?
“My sources inform me that, indeed, your family are on their way to rescue you. They must love you dearly,” Ghaffar said, and then promptly bowed as he left the room.
“Obnoxious little man,” the Duchess mumbled to herself.
Since she had been brought to this strange place, she had no other company other than her own, so she was inclined to talk to herself. It helped her think things through. There was something he was not telling her but she had yet to find out what it was.
The problem at the moment was her forgetfulness. Although she often associated it with her old age, plus all that she had gone through recently, she also knew she was not usually so bad. She vaguely remembered Ghaffar convincing her to leave with him, but she could not remember why, and now she felt certain that she was being kept here against her will.
The door was locked all the time and she saw no one but the monk. He had treated her well enough and healed the injuries she had received from being tortured, but yet she still felt a sickness deep inside. Something was wrong, but she could not determine exactly what it was. She had endured much pain to allow her granddaughter to escape. Never would she begrudge Myriam her freedom at the price of her torture, but now that she was Queen, she had hoped that Myriam would send someone to her rescue.
Not trusting the monk, Ghaffar, it left her with no one to confide in. All she could do was wait for events to unfold and hope that this would all be resolved soon, as it seemed a party was on its way to her. She hoped that Myriam had stayed in Palara as she felt certain there were dangers here for the Queen should she come herself.
Always, she felt a claustrophobia in this catacomb of a city. The rooms were large and the city was well developed, but at the end of the day there was no fresh air to breath. The only ventilation that lingered was what had managed to filter through the built-in network of airway tunnels. Even lizards needed to breathe air to survive.
Feeling tired as she always seemed to be these days, she lay her head down and was soon in a fitful slumber. In her sleep she tossed and turned, dreaming of her blood seeping away from her body. It was a fitful rest, and she was glad to awaken and find herself still alive.
Yet, it was always the same when she woke up from the dream; she had a sense that she had not been alone. She always sensed that someone had come into her room and had left before she awoke. Why she sensed this, she did not know, but she felt it was a part of the reason as to why she was here.
This time, she knew someone was in the room and when she awakened, they were still there. She saw it was a female lizard. She could just make it out in the shadows and knew it was a female as they smelled more pleasant than the males, who had a distinctly unpleasant sour odor.
The female spoke to another in the room, but the Duchess could not see very well and felt light-headed. Nor could she understand the language of these lizard people.
“She has awoken early,” the female said in her own tongue, knowing that the human would not understand her words. “Shall I drug her some more?”
“No, take what blood you have to our Empress, that will placate her for now,” a voice replied in the same language. She recognized it as belonging to Ghaffar. “I will deal with the consequences,” he assured the female, who was quite concerned she did not have a full cup of blood.
A voice called her name and the Duchess was somewhat confused as to where she was. As of late she was getting weaker, not stronger.
“Duchess D’Anjue,” there was the voice again. “Are you well?”
The Duchess peered into the dim room to see the little monk looming over her. She sat up with a start.
“How long have you been present in my room while I rest?” she demanded.
“Your voice could be heard calling out, so I was sent to check in on your safety. I think you were having a dream, Duchess,” Ghaffar explained. “I have brought you refreshment. You must keep up your strength.”
He passed her a glass containing a warm liquid which she drank gratefully. She was never certain what this cup contained, but he had explained once that it was a mix of local herbs which helped to build strength. Whatever it was, she always felt better after taking it.
She passed him back the glass and laid her head back onto the pillow, her eyes heavy again. She meant to ask him who the other person had been in the
room with them, but it did not seem important anymore as a warm feeling swept over her, easing her worries.
Ghaffar smiled as the Duchess slipped back into slumber. He contemplated for a moment calling the servant girl back in to finish the blood draining but decided against it. The Empress would have to make do with less tonight. There would be plenty to come in the future. If his spies were to be believed then the whole remaining bloodline of the D’Anjue were making their way to them.
Yes, soon she would have all the blood she needed to survive her next transformation.
11
The group had traded their horses for camels as this creature was more suited for the new terrain they had to cross. Myriam liked her camel, who was called Al Bikra, because she had not mated yet. She was one of the two humps variety which made riding her more comfortable. Al Bikra was partial to dates, and whoever fed her them would receive her loyalty. With this in mind, Myriam always had a pocket full of the sticky fruit at the ready.
The others in the group were not so lucky. Ganry’s was a seasoned camel but also a little on the feisty side, not always doing what Ganry commanded. Each camel had its own character, just as the horses at home, only camels were proving a little moodier.
Perseus led the train of camels, who seemed happy to walk in single line as they progressed through the dry arid landscape. They were heading towards a large desert area which should take them onto the forbidden lands where the Akkedis Mense ruled.
They passed by many mines where it appeared that the workers were slaves. Myriam’s parents had disapproved of such practices, and after witnessing the cruelty of the poor workers, Myriam vowed she would never allow this in her Kingdom.
It was clear that these people were worked to the death and she wondered if they were perhaps prisoners. She must remember to ask Perseus about slavery and see if it was something her own people could find the power to stop, especially if trade was strong. Maybe they could bring in laws that nothing could be traded if slavery was involved in the process.
