by Derek Barton
The air had an odd mugginess. Not like a summer’s humidity, but with more of a stifling or clinging quality to it. Getting to his feet, he stepped anxiously over to the edge of the lake. Taihven stared across at the peaks. Elaborate and intricate patterns were etched upon the metal boxes.
Taihven leaned forward, stretching out toward them. Without warning, he heard a disjointed voice – something childlike and shrill.
The lad cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Hello? Who is out there?”
Several moments passed and nobody answered, but the muted whispers continued.
“I cannot understand you. Who is there?” he repeated.
The boxes continued to rotate undisturbed. They were of equal size and made of exquisite, ebony metal. Minute, magical script and runes of powerful spells were written in part of the engravings and he realized that this magic was far above anything he was capable of.
The prince had a pressing need to get closer. Yet the shadowy water… there was a foreboding element to its appearance and he did not even dare to test its temperature with his finger. Taihven felt as if the glassy water was watching him, alive with malice. Gasping in surprise, he jumped back from the beach’s edge after realizing that it did not cast any reflection upon its surface.
“…time a tea right and the day is well spent—” an old woman’s voice could be heard.
“What?” The prince asked back.
“I doubt we are invited to the Church today.” Another conversation fragment floated back to him.
“Crab-doils, strawberry jams, racks of pork ribs, sour pumpkin tarts…” The voice droned on.
“HEY!” Taihven shouted. This cut the chatter to a stop and all was dead silent. Several moments seemed to pass as he stood waiting a response. He worried he frightened her somehow.
Finally in frustration, “HELLO! Why will not you answ—”
He was interrupted and rocked back by a booming, gravelly male voice. “—BECAUSE TIME HAS COME TO STOP ANSWERING THE QUESTIONS FROM THE ARTADEUS FAMILY! TIME HAS COME FOR EACH ARTADEUS TO ANSWER FOR US! TIME HAS COME FOR YOU TO ANSWER WITH YOUR BLOOD!”
“Prince Taihven, you better run, you better run quick!” a child’s voice taunted and giggled.
This was beyond his limits and he bolted back across the river water. The heat of the threat felt like it was right behind him and the prince fled like a man on fire. The child’s voice repeated over and over in his mind. Tears poured down his face and he sobbed in panic and terror. His lips kept mouthing the words, please wake me up, please wake me up, please wa—
—he smashed into the wooden door and flailed backwards and fell to the dirt floor. Blood poured from his nose and he gagged in the dark. Taihven swung blindly his hands up warding off invisible attacks. Nothing retaliated.
On the other side of the door, a soft rap on the wood was followed by a low, timid voice, “Uh… Prince Taihven… Are you alright in there? Are... are you awake?”
Do not answer! Do not let them know I am here! The boy was absolutely lost and did not know where he was or what was happening to him. Panic had not released its tight grip on him.
Feet shuffled at the door and then trailed away from the cell. The boy laid stiff and listened intently. He waited for several minutes. Finally, he crawled over to a corner of the cell and curled up against the stone to continue his watch. He did not know what else to do.
#2
Letandra had not studied her father’s features in detail in a long time. The disease and age had caught up with him. It shocked her how much he had deteriorated and shrunken in stature. King Haedrec was at the end of his reign. That thought kept cresting in the chaotic waves of her thoughts and each time her chest tightened and ached. What would the family do without him? What would the kingdom do without its king?
His breathing was very shallow and rattled deep inside the shell of the man. She looked up from his form and locked eyes with her mother. Queen Demetryce mirrored the pain and resignation in her eyes.
“Is this my wake?” The king rasped.
“What? Fath—"
“—You two look like you are at my wake!“ He coughed and chuckled at his own joke. “We knew that this day would come.”
“Haedrec,” Demetryce started, but a sob caught in her throat.
"It is alright,” he tried to comfort her. “Everything will work out fine.”
Letandra leaned over and hugged her father gingerly. “Hush. The day may come, but Brother Reaul insists not tonight.”
“You know I always watch your mother sleeping just like that?” King Haedrec murmured with his eyes closed.
“I know. I used to catch you watching me in the mornings when I was little.” She laughed and eased him back into his pillow.
“Where is Taihven? Is he alright?”
The princess looked first to her mother and then back to her father. “He is being held in the dungeon and has not awaken from… from his state.”
After a few awkward minutes of silence, he asked, “Was anyone hurt at the Hall?”
“Yes, there were injuries among the actors. No deaths, but the stables went down with eight horses and he destroyed most of the hall. This time his actions cannot be hidden,” the queen replied with her lips pressed tightly, her hands clasped in anger.
King Haedrec did not respond. He did not try to console Letandra or calm Demetryce. Stoic resignation etched into his face. Outside, from the Cambelda Monolith Tower, a series of hollow gongs resonated and signaled the late second hour after midnight.
“This was another day I did not want to see pass.” Haedrec lamented, “Alas, we do not have the luxury of waiting any longer. I cannot jeopardize all that we have worked for.” He rotated and met his queen’s gaze. She nodded in agreement.
They returned to look at Letandra. She felt the intensity of their stare. The world seemed to grow and she shrank before them. Her father clasped her hands in his. He smiled to reassure and calm her.
“My wonderful,” he paused and wiped a tear that escaped down his cheek. “My little angel, I have to lay a very heavy burden upon your shoulders. I am sorry.”
“Father! Stop and conserve—”
“—quiet!” Demetryce cut her off and then held her breath.
“No! This has to be done and has to be done now. I will have them bring in the court scribe to make this official, but I want to tell you myself first.” He cleared his throat, but his voice remained raspy and coarse, “Princess Letandra Artadeus, by order of the Artadeus Throne and Court, you shall take up the Laws and Affairs within the borders of Tayneva. Empowered and Entitled as Lady Magistrate."
Letandra fell back into her seat. The events of the evening, her brother’s disastrous episode, her father’s collapse and now this sudden revelation, were too much for her. “No! No! This is not ri—” her words faltered as she fainted upon the floor of the King’s Chambers.
#3
A hesitant knock woke Taihven. It repeated with more force. He could not answer or remember where he was. The heavy darkness of the cell hid much from him.
“Prince Taihven! Can you answer? Prince Taihven?” a husky voice bellowed from behind the wooden door.
A moment later, Queen Demetryce followed up his inquiry from the hall outside the cell. Her voice was icy harsh, “Taihven, your father is very ill and has asked to see you. Please answer us!”
The youth was all-over sore and exhausted. His stomach was racked with both hunger pains and nausea and upon hearing his mother's voice, it only sickened him further. In no way was he up to a confrontation with her. Yet by not answering he understood it would only be invoking her wrath.
Crawling forward along the damp dirt, he slumped to the bottom of the door where he could see four sets of shoes: three pair of guard boots and a set of white leather sandals.
“Here!” The prince groaned into the inch space.
The Queen snapped orders to bring him to the King’s Chambers that afternoon. He was to be ma
de presentable and the smell of the dungeon washed off of him. She marched away, not waiting to see her only son.
***
Taihven stood in the door’s archway, his feet rooted to the marble floor. He was in fresh clothes, but his face was bruised from left cheek to jaw. There was also a long cut across his nose and a gouge from the club marking his temple.
For the second time that evening, guilt washed over him and he knew he was responsible for a lot of pain. His mother stood at the head of the bed with her arms crossed, her eyes blistering him with her fury. The guard behind him shoved him into the room. The boy’s status had certainly lost ground within the castle.
“It is fine, son, you can come to me.” King Haedrec waved his hand weakly, but his voice had strength, “Demetryce! Leave us! I will talk with him alone.”
She consented to his order and walked stiffly toward Taihven. As she passed, she leaned in and whispered, “Now everyone sees what you really are! You do know what is done with a cockroach once it is spotted on the floor?” Her venom dripped like acid from her words as she exited.
The guard squeezed Taihven’s shoulder in a steel grip. “King Haedrec, I will be outside in the hall should you require me.” With that warning, he released the young Prince and walked out of the shadowy room.
The boy stood, switching his weight from one foot to the other. This ordeal had exhausted him and he wished for a chair, but he waited for his father’s permission. He had no words for his king and father; no words that expressed how much regret bore upon him.
“You will have much work to do amongst the citizenry in order to win back their favor,” Haedrec commented.
“Father, I…” he struggled for something to explain himself.
“Taihven, there is no punishment I could deal upon you for this. This is not your fault nor is it in your control. I know this, but the others do not and many will not be as forgiving.”
“Sometimes I wish I could recall what happened. I mean, to know what I did in the real world as well as remember what I did in my mind. But... I am completely lost.” The prince shrugged. “Last that I remember I was sitting in the Hall with Letandra and then I woke up in the dark. I only remember what happened here,” he stabbed a finger to his temple, “but what happened at the play? Why did you put me in the dungeon?”
Sighing deeply, King Haedrec answered, “Son, I do not know why you are cursed. I have prayed for an answer, but this damned beast in you has grown. You nearly burned down Charners Hall and could have killed everyone in it.” He let the words sink in, then continued, “We are facing a brutal war with the Viestrahl. This time, I cannot guide the Throne through it. The instability of war is hard enough for any nation to face, but if the citizens do not have a king or leader to put their faith in…”
“I will do the bes—”
“—I have made your sister Lady Magistrate. You and your mother will have to be there for her and advise her,” he interjected.
Taihven’s jaw dropped in shock and he took a step back from the bed.
“I’m sorry, my son. I had no choice.”
Taihven could not respond. His worst fear had been realized. He had lost his father’s confidence and trust. The news crushed him. It was not the loss of power or even the Throne. It was the sincere disappointment deep in his father’s eyes. The youth crossed over to the chair and plunked down.
“I… I understand. She will be great, father.” The words were spoken with numb lips. Each sat in quiet contemplation.
King Haedrec rolled over to better face his son. “Taihven, you said that you remember the dreams you have. Tell me, what did you see this time? What were you fighting?”
Lost in his thoughts, he did not hear the question. He had never faced the possibility of not being a king. The role had defined him and who he was to become. Heir-apparent had always been his future.
“Taihven?” a worried edge tainted the king’s voice.
“Hmmm? What?”
“I—I asked if you remember what you were fighting in your episode?”
“I was being hunted and chased through a forest. These lizard-like creatures had trapped me in a chasm.” He paused and tried to recall his memories. The details of the episode were growing fuzzy to him. “Then somehow I found myself dumped in some white desert. I think it might have been a graveyard.”
“A graveyard?”
“Yes. Nothing was living there and it went on for miles. But I did find these floating metal cubes. I thought maybe they were tombstone markers of some type, but they had magical runes all over them. I have neve—”
“—wait! What did you just say?” King Haedrec exclaimed.
“I found some metal cubes. They were floating in the center of a weird lake above these red metal triangles.”
“Why did you think it was a graveyard?” The king jumped in once again, that worried edge remained to his voice.
“There were these voices. Or maybe they were ghosts? The voices seem to come out from the floating boxes. I am not sure. The whispers were like random statements, but … then they started screaming at me. When I ran away, it felt like they were chasing me!”
The king moaned and rolled away from his son.
“Are you alright? Do you need me to leave or get the Menders?” The prince started for the door.
“No. But… I cannot believe what you are telling me, son.” He replied in a hushed tone.
“It is the truth. I—” Taihven exclaimed as he rushed back to the king’s bed.
“—I do not doubt your words. But, if you saw the Soul Renders, then that means…that means..." His words faded and did not complete his thoughts.
“What are Soul Renders? I do not know what you are talking about. Maybe you should rest?”
“Tell me more of what you saw," he shifted back to the prince, "What exactly did the voices say?”
“Well, at first, they talked of church and food. I was not sure if they were talking to me or each other; they seemed oblivious of me. Yet when I demanded they answer me, this man’s voice blasted out at me!”
“You were speaking directly with them?”
“No, I was calling out to them.”
“An older man’s voice like mine?”
“Younger than you, but older than me.”
Haedrec laid back and closed his eyes. “Impossible… impossible.” He muttered.
“Taihven, I do not know what all this means for us. Go bring in your mother. I need to speak with her immediately!”
#4
“I do not trust this, Haedrec. He must have heard something somewhere. Stories, rumors, who knows? None of what he sees exists. You know this. Trust yourself and your initial decision.” The queen reasoned. “Right now you are emotional and weak, love, and this is clouding your good reason.”
The old man grimaced and would not meet her gaze. Haedrec had spied paper scrolls in her hands. He knew she had already acted on “his behalf” and had the Magistrate powers assigned to Letandra. All that was needed was his wax royal seal.
Yet this feels all wrong now and a mistake to strip the Throne away from Taihven. His doubts spoke aloud in his mind.
“This decision is a vital step that defines the path that Tayneva will take in the future. You have to understand that the citizens and the Court will not trust him. Letandra has their acceptance.”
He continued to frown and did not refute her logic.
“This is just a part of the consequences he will have to shoulder for the fire.”
“But… if he saw the Renders, then it—”
Demetryce cut his words off by putting a finger to his chapped lips. “Rest, my king. Perhaps we can discuss this tomorrow morn after you have regained your strength. You already defied the Menders’ predictions. Let’s not test it with this stress.”
***
The queen stepped out and closed the thick door behind her before he could further protest.
It is time to get LLasher involved, she thought to hers
elf.
She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and over her head to keep the chill out. It would also hide her features. She wound her way through the halls and through the kitchen pantries to a secret stairwell. It was designed as an escape passage for the royal family in emergency cases, but it also worked well to get her into the dungeons unseen.
At the bottom of the stairwell, sliding back a panel built into the secret door, the queen scanned the hall in front of her.
Horace, a very rotund and what Demetryce’s mother would call a “repatta” of a guard, slouched against the dungeon wall and picked a scab on his arm. His dungeonguard uniform was dirty and somehow greasy. She shook her head in disgust. While this man had no talent or skill that benefited society, King Haedrec educated her early in their reign as to what this type of man could offer.
“When you have dark needs or want discretion, you will require a repatta to carry out those deeds and not dirty your own hands. Not everyone would understand or would approve of what it takes, but some means for the greater good have to be carried out and the ends are justified. Being a leader is to know when and why and who to rely on.” King Haedrec had lectured her one late afternoon.
“I am not new to politics, but I just do not think we should lower—” Demetryce protested.
“—That is the point! We are not lowering ourselves, but we use the tools that are already there for our own purposes.”
The real lesson: repatta always are in service to the gold coin.
Demetryce stepped out of the secret stairwell, slid open the wall panel and walked into an empty dungeon cell. When she approached out of the shadows, Horace squealed in surprise and nearly fell off his stool.
