by A L Wright
Just one more thing in the list of things that had him continually confused about their strange situation.
He stopped in front of the Library door and inhaled. He smelled nothing of what was beyond the door, which he already knew he wouldn't. He knew the room was spelled to contain all smells and words and sounds within it, but that didn't change the automatic habit of checking a room before entering.
He nodded towards his father's personal guard and opened the door.
Leaning on his hands over his desk, he found his father reading a scroll that looked like it was barely legible. He hated to interrupt, so he just shut the door behind him and crossed to the front of the desk to peer at the scroll.
His father recognized his presence with a grunt and continued to scan the contents of the scroll. Dartein did not recognize anything written on it. Sure sign that it was incredibly old.
Sighing and standing up straight, the Patriarch ran his hands through his hair straightening it back after it had fallen forward during his reading.
"I hear you had quite an adventure last night outside of the village. Bandits? I take it you handled them readily enough. How many were there? 5 or 6?"
"Ah well, there were a dozen of them."
"A dozen! Well maybe I should have let you join the ranged military when you had asked so many years ago."
"Father I did not kill them. And they were not bandits. They were not even human." Dartein watched as his father's feature clouded over with irritation, which quickly changed to confusion.
"Dartein, if they were not human then what pray tell did you make them out to be?"
"I have never seen the like of them, Father. They were short but solid and incredibly tough. They came up behind me and caught me by surprise. When I turned to fight them I did not get to look very close at them, for they burned very quickly."
"Burned? Was there a fire nearby, did you have torches?"
"No..." He was not sure how to explain it since he really was not clear on the situation himself. "Father, Josaleene was able to track them to their hideout. Straight there just by their smell. I've never seen anything like it outside of the military."
"Wait son, your Chosen tracked them? She found them? And found what exactly, please describe them!" His father was nervous now, and Dartein assumed it was about his Josee's new found abilities.
"From what I already told you they were short and tough. And smelled of mulch, or maybe compost." He watched as a fear flashed in his father's eyes and was again confused about his reaction. "Father, what is going on? Do you know these creatures? I thought you were worried about Josee's new found abilities, but now I wonder if there is something else..."
"Abilities? Is there something beyond her keen perception of odors that I should know of?"
"Um, well... I believe she... burned the creatures."
"She burned the creatures?" His father asked incredulously.
"Yes. I did not see it happen, but I know that is what happened by her confession and her hands... they were... smoking after..." He was still confused as to how his love had this magic, but he knew that she had burned those creatures.
"I see." Mortul sat down in his chair and laced his hands in front of him. "Well son, it seems that we have a serious issue."
---
Mortul was not prepared to tell his son that he could not, would not, save Josaleene. He knew he couldn't save her after his visit to the Slumber Chamber. Now his resolve for that decision grew with the news of what he believed to be goblins in the forest.
How had they gotten so near without his knowing? He would have to send out rangers with messages to his commanders at field, seeking answers to that very question.
He watched his sons face, the emotions that were battling each other across it. He would never be prepared for the information he had. So it was now or never.
"Dartein I need you to sit down.” He waited to continue until after his son took a chair. “After our conversation of the previous night I visited the Slumber Chamber to re-familiarize myself with the spells contained inside. The spells are ancient, still original, and impossible to alter as the inscriptions have somehow protected themselves. Now, I need you to know that I could add to the spell which would completely nullify the Noble blood inside your Chosen and her child. She would return to human and the child would be human as well. In those circumstances she would only undertake the normal risks associated with human child bearing."
The Patriarch watched relief wash over Dartein's face. "Father, that is amazing. I am so relieved that...."
"Do not be relieved Dartein." The Patriarch stood up from his chair, rose up tall and straight with a look that could cut through stone. "I will not alter the Chamber."
Dartein stood up and without fear yelled at his Father "I cannot believe you will not help me! I cannot believe that you will let her die! Let my love die!" He turned to storm out the room, but found the door to be locked. "Let me out Father!"
"You WILL stay in this room and you WILL listen to what I have to say." He had never raised his voice to his son in all the time he could remember. And the shock of that was plain on Dartein's face.
"Listen to me, son. I have been using that Chamber for hundreds of years to swell the ranks of our race. A race I created. Created to battle unnatural creatures that threatened the lands around us. Those creatures you found in the forest I believe are the same exact creatures. They have come above ground again, and have found where we hid ourselves. This is a day I always knew would come. I have prepared for this for a long, long time."
Mortul turned to the long shelves behind him. He grabbed one very old book and laid it open on the desk in front of him. He turned the book toward his son and began to turn the pages. He paused at a drawing of the four original chambers on one page. “We started with four.” Then turning the page, the drawing changed to three complete Chambers and one that was melted. “Here we journaled what happened to the fourth Chamber.” Turning the page again the drawing now showed two complete Chambers, one chamber that was melted and one that was smashed to rubble.
"I salvaged one of these two surviving Chambers after the war, the one I had created with my own hands. The other is still buried far, far beneath the battle field near where we finished off the last of the hordes. The way to that field has not been travelled in centuries. And even if there were as easy way to get there, the Chamber could never be unearthed or moved."
He sighed and continued. "If I were to alter the spells in the Chamber we have then we could never again turn a human. Those creatures will attack us someday again. Maybe not in the next year or even the next few years, but they will as soon as they think they have an advantage. I will continue to turn humans, I will continue to swell our ranks with Nobles and we will continue to keep their advantage over us from happening. I cannot let these lands fall into war again!"
He watched his son closely as the words all sank in. He hated to disappoint this child of his Samana, this man who he loved with all his heart.
"I am sorry, son. There is no other way to undo what has been done by the Chambers spells. Our sacrifices define us. They become our armor and our shields against harm, the weapons against our enemies’ throats. I know you may be thinking that it is worth the risk, but I tell you now son you were not there for that war. You cannot know what complete despair the world had fallen into. I cannot, will not, let that happen again. Take the book with you. Read the history of the war, and understand the enormity of what you would want me to do for you and your Chosen."
He watched his soon woodenly pick up the book, close it and tuck it under his arm. He turned to walk away. "Will the door open for me now, Master?"
The lack of familiar title from his son's mouth wounded him more than anything else could. He relaxed his will and let the door unlock.
"Yes, Dartein. My door will ways be open to you." By the time he finished his sentence, the door had closed behind his only son.
---
He didn't go to his r
oom where his beloved Josaleene waited for him. He didn't think he could bear to tell her all that his Father had said just yet. Instead Dartein went to the large balcony at the very end of the north wing of the palace. He sat the book down on the large marble slab table in the middle of the balcony and wandered over to the railing.
He looked out over the village and across the river to the meadow where he so recently had shared some very memorable time with his beautiful and vivacious lady.
Too distracted to dwell on the wonderful time they had shared, he looked past the meadow to the woods. He stared into the woods for a very long time trying to pick out anything moving within them. He knew that what they found out there was not imagined. He had no reason to not believe his father's conviction that these were the same creatures from the Ancient War. They were powerful, and en masse would be damn near invincible.
Sighing, he turned away from the railing bringing his eyes around to the book on the table. He opened the book and dove into the history of the war, written hastily by an unknown observer.
---
High Summer - Duke's year 214
We are well into the 80th year of this war, a war for our very existence. The recruiters have come back empty handed yet again. There are no able bodied men around us to join the efforts, and we can no longer travel to the far out villages for those roads have been cut off by the enemy. The Duke and his men can no longer reach us.
The Enemy. We speak little of them directly. As if talking of them will conjure them into our camps. Every superstition and folk tale has been handed around from person to person, family to family... warning us all of the demons. Yet for some years, we had quietly hoped that those stories may contain our salvation.
But now, we have all but given up on superstition and fairy tales. We have all watched too many die or suffer terrible things at the enemies' hands to think now that any hope can be found. And watching the recruiters come back with no fighting men defeats us utterly. The enemy need not march on our camp.
With all hope waning, we are already defeated.
Chapter 6
Josaleene was tired of lounging around the bed chamber, enormous and luxurious as it was. She had decided that instead of thinking of her untimely demise she would only think of her child's future and spending as much time as possible with her Prince and getting everything together that he would need to take care of their child.
It was still early, just after dark. She knew the village below was still bustling with activity since the Nobles could have needs late into the night. Knowing Dartein would be wrought with her if she went alone she took one of his personal guards along with her. The guard insisted he have a carriage made ready, for the Chosen of the Prince should not walk among the commoners of the village. She had laughed at his comment and at the thought that even though the guard knew of her beginnings he still treated her as though she were royalty.
He was the only Noble besides her Prince who did so.
She and the loyal guard set out into town, her in the carriage and he on horseback next to her door. They pulled up in front of the carpenters’ workshop only a few minutes later. The guard opened her carriage door and escorted her into the shop. As the shop door opened her sense of smell was over whelmed with cedar and spruce and maple, among other woodsy smells of the craftsman's trade.
She didn't waste too much time in the shop. She let the carpenter know in quick and certain terms that she wanted the best bassinet and crib made up in the most colorful and pungent pine he could find.
The man was confused that a Noble was asking for baby furniture but would never dream of turning down a commission from the Palace. She paid the man the full amount for the work up front, which was almost twice as much as the price he had quoted her. She knew he would put extra effort into the work now, beyond him just being fearful of upsetting a Noble with a very large guard.
After leaving the shop she asked the driver to drive through the village. He meandered through the nicely cobbled streets past shops filled with fine dresses, intricately carved men’s canes, draperies and huge floor rugs. They then came to the streets full of bakeries and pastry shops. Even though she no longer ate such things, the pleasant aromas brought back memories of times she had enjoyed them with her mother.
As they passed the last meat market they turned down a less smoothly cobbled street. As the road turned to a packed dirt lane she spied some familiar buildings. Her old neighborhood had been mostly rebuilt as the poorly constructed buildings in the area tended to fall down over time.
Near the oldest parts of town she saw the girls of the night out trying to earn their next days’ meal. She hated to see what women would lower themselves to in order to survive. She had once resolved to never turn to those devices, no matter how desperate she became.
She closed her eyes as they passed by the women, attempting to shut out the memories along with the sight of them.
“Excuse me” she called out to her guard. “Please let us turn back now”.
He bowed low to her from his horse and shouted up to the driver to change course.
“Thank you... I'm sorry I do not know your name.”
The large man smiled at her warmly. “My name is Victor, Princess.”
---
Every so often the Court would throw a ball and a few of the higher born lords and ladies would be invited to attend at the Palace itself. It didn't happen but once every ten years or so and was always the talk of every village around.
Josaleene had listened to her mother's tales of these events with rapt attention. She wanted oh so badly to go one of these balls! She knew it was a dream, but she still loved to dream it.
When she was 15 her mother passed of a wasting illness. The burial coordinator scoffed at her mother's profession saying that it took long enough for it to happen. But Josaleene was devastated all the same and took to her room for many weeks, only coming out to find food. A handful of her neighbors shared food with her for a few days, until they made it clear that she needed to earn her own food now. They didn't want to be mean to her, but they themselves had very little of their own and could not afford to share.
At 15 she knew that there were very few things she could do to earn a decent living, and out of those things was the one thing she vowed to never lower herself to. She had seen the men that would come to the ladies on her street. They would smell of ale and smoke, sweat and other vile things. Most of the men her mother entertained were at least clean, but there were some nights when the foul smelling ones would come around. Josaleene couldn't bear to think of those men touching her!
But what was she to do? She really couldn't get much lower than where she was now. The child of a street whore didn't have many choices in life. She spent the next few years as a bar maid in a very seedy bar serving ale to the same smelly men that would visit the ladies on the street where she lived. She had gotten lucky though, for the barkeeper had two daughters who also worked there and was a man who would not see his girls treated poorly. He had been as close to a father to her as was possible when there were rooms full of drunks to contend with every night of the week.
On one of her rare nights off of work, she had been going through her mother's old things when she came across a small pewter chest. It was very small, and she had never seen it before. It had taken her years to even start going through her mother's old stuff... her heart would break every time she even considered it before.
Holding the tiny box in her hands she wondered what could be inside. Holding her breath she released the latch and it sprang open. She exhaled hard at what she found.
Silver coins, copper coins, a few gold coins and a set of beautiful gold and ruby jewelry lay inside. Not believing what she found, she ran her fingers through the money and took the jewelry out of the box. The rubies sparkled in the candle light of her room and as she laid them back in the box she found a note. A tiny piece of parchment folded several times.
She couldn't read. But she did kno
w what her name looked like on paper.
JOSALEENE it said on the outside of the note. She knew her mother had left her all of this to find one day.
And she knew what she was going to do with it.
It had been years since she had gone to those parts of town where you could spot a Noble, but she went there more frequently after she opened that box. She would sit in the dark on her nights off from the bar, which were a bit more often now that the barkeeps eldest daughter had a small son to support on her own and worked more often.
On those nights she would watch which shops the Noble's servants would come and go from. She watched carefully to see which colors and designs the dresses were that came from those shops. The only thing she didn't know was how much they cost, though she knew it would be a good portion of the money she had hid away.
One evening when she knew the dressmaker of the shop she had been watching would be out front helping to load parcels of dresses, she slipped into the back of the shop. Quietly she snuck around through the mannequins touching the silken soft materials the dresses were made from. She finally spied the dress she wanted and walked towards it. It was a black silk floor length gown with red silk sashes across the waist and shoulders. Suddenly she heard the dressmaker come back into the front of the shop and she panicked and grabbed the dress too quickly. Hearing a rip coming from the mannequin she was stripping, Josaleene was scared she had blown her only chance.
Fleeing out the back door she rolled up the dress and ran quickly and quietly down the alley, running all the way until she reached her room.
Unrolling the dress on her bed she investigated it for damage. Spying that the lace neckline had become separated from the bodice she became very frustrated. She could not sew, and she could not ask someone else to sew it for her. She would be questioned about the dresses origins. Everyone around her knew she could never pay for a dress like that.
Deciding to try it on anyway, she slipped out of her clothes and into the dress. The lace that was now missing had served as a "barricade" for the eyes to not meet the woman's cleavage. Josaleene had ample cleavage to show. Ashamedly she decided it would actually serve her needs, and hoped that maybe she would be considered a trend setter and also get the attention she was looking for.
