by Derek Barton
She handed him a small bag of coin. “You have been alone your entire shift and have had no visitors, clear?”
He took the coin bag from her hand without looking up to her face. As he hefted it up and down weighing the coins in his palm, he quipped, “Not a soul.”
The queen took the key ring from its hook upon the wall and went to a cell door. She rapped a few times with her knuckles before entering.
A slender man with bronze skin and no hair laid on a cot. The Camiyaan was reading from an old tome under a miniature hooded lantern. An old, black satchel lay in the opposite corner. The reader failed to look up and acknowledge her entry.
“You are the one they call LLasher, am I right?” Queen Demetryce inquired.
LLasher grunted in the positive. Then held up a hand to stop the rest of the conversation. Several moments passed.
“Ahh, yes. An interesting twist in the tale,” the man remarked as he closed the tome and sat up on the cot. “Thank you for the nicest of accommodations. It has been most relaxing, Your Highness.” His eyes twinkled at enjoyment of his own sarcasm.
He is another repatta; just a bit more talented and skilled degenerate. The queen mused to herself.
Ignoring his remarks, she started, “We have little time to carry this out. King Haedrec has woken and is reconsidering making Letandra the Lady Magistrate. I am… I am worried.”
“That could be problematic. Why is he hesitating?”
“King Haedrec has always had a blind spot when it comes to Taihven and believes in the boy,” she replied. “The fire was my best opportunity to isolate him for you, but…”
LLasher stood and stretched his arms over his head. He stepped over to the satchel and rummaged inside.
“I presume we are still proceeding as planned. You are wanting his disappearance played off as an escape attempt, correct?” He questioned with his back to her.
“Yes, you will need to convince him to run with you. I will instruct Horace outside of what is needed to facilitate your escape.”
The thin man faced the queen and handed her a small, stone jar. “This will give you the time we need.” LLasher returned the unsettling smirk upon his face.
When she delayed in taking it, he added, “It will not hurt him, only give him a needed and much longer rest. Everyone wins.”
Queen Demetryce plucked another coin pouch from her robe. It was heavier than Horace’s. “For your efforts and… discretion.”
He bowed in dramatic fashion, “But of course, Your Highness.”
As she unlocked the cell door, he gripped her shoulder and leaned in to her ear, “Once I begin this journey with you, I will not stop or hesitate. There are no regrets nor rescues. Are you committed to this course of action?”
Incensed by his touch, she snapped, “Just make this happen!”
Demetryce walked away from the sounds of his laughter.
After a short period in the Castle Gardens to calm her nerves, she returned to her temporary quarters and found that her Court Maid was drawing her a bath.
“That must wait for now. Please go to the King and put this salve on his forehead. The Menders feel he is in too much pain and needs his sleep.” She hesitated handing over the black jar. Shaking her head to clear out her doubts, she pressed it into the maid's hands with both of hers.
“Yes, Your Majesty. I will go at once,” she stepped to the door, but failed to exit.
“Yes? What?”
“Princess Letandra has gotten a slight fever, ma’am. Probably coming down with a Malay from staying out...uh well, from the chill of the last few nightfalls.” The servant coughed embarrassed, “Her personal maid, Chere, has been called to spend the evening and care for her.”
“Fine. Thank you. Now that is all,” she snapped and dismissed her.
Demetryce sat at a mammoth pinewood desk and lit a large, beige candle. She glanced at her candle clock which read near to the Eleventh hour. The queen drew forth the paper scrolls from her robe and then produced the King’s Signet from her blouse pocket. With a smile across her thin lips, she stared at the ornate ring.
I am crossing a line here, but… She stared at her reflection in the desk’s mirror.
Haedrec would sleep for days. Besides he is just confused, Demetryce reasoned with herself.
This time she refused to let Taihven off the hook. He would never be fit to rule and now she had the chance to guarantee that a Cros’seau child would never sit on the Artadeus Throne.
Her grandchild would come and all would be proper once again. As humiliating the events of late had been, this fire and violence had aligned with her plans and she had to take full advantage.
“You can do this. You have to do this,” she whispered encouragement to herself.
She retrieved a block of wax from the top desk drawer and held it over the candle flame. Her hand shook with nerves.
#5
Rain splattered on the patio and bitter morning wind swirled the curtains about the room. Before Letandra could get up from the bed, a figure sprinted across the bed chamber tiles and secured the blue blanket-curtains.
“Who is there?” she called out, but was surprised by the sandpaper pain in her throat. Her hair was matted and sweat coated her brow. Her first hours as Lady Magistrate and she was laid up sick in bed. What were her parents thinking? She asked herself.
“Sorry, m’lady. I did not realize the curtains were not tied down.”
“It is alright.” The young woman replied. “Is that you, Chere?”
“No, I am Taliah. I was called into help you while you are sick. Chere has gone to visit her grandmother in Lae Ronsc for the summer,” The young girl crossed over from the patio and lit a lantern on the nightstand near Letandra’s bed. Taliah was of medium height and had long strawberry-red, curly hair.
“Oh good for Chere – that will be very nice for her.” She coughed into her hand and eyed the pretty maid, “Yes, I think we have met before.”
“I will bring you a honey tea right away for that. Are you hungry, Your Highness?”
“No.” She said weakly. “Is father alright?”
“I have not heard anything. Would you want me to check in with your mother on the way to the kitchen?”
Shaking her head, “Please, no!”
A mischievous, knowing smile crossed Taliah’s face. “Ah... Well, I suppose no news is good news then, miss.”
“You are streetwise, I see. I like it!” Letandra laughed, and remarked, “And you have such amazing silver eyes. I bet you win the hearts of many of the guards out there.”
“Thank you, Your Highness! I hope that I can serve you well and become your favorite.”
Her eyes gleamed almost cat-like in the candle light. Before the princess could react, Taliah skipped out through the doorway.
PART IV – A HERO’S MISTAKE:
Afternoon of Garbradine 15th~~
#1
The smell of the body wafted in the air on the northern winds. It mixed with a salty sweat odor and the orchard’s various sour fruits. The combination revolted and yet attracted him. Opening his jaws wide, the Viestrahl extended his long eye stalks up to get a better view over the brush line. The human male child laid flat on its stomach as it played in the red and orange leaves along an isolated dirt path. A couple of Viestrahl females slowly approached, hunched over in stalking form in the brush opposite him. They were all waiting for the fourth pack member, Mareor, to get into position further ahead upon the path.
This child looked strong and healthy to Sxestic; a suitable slave for Ramnethas. This find would almost guarantee to elevate him from the scouting party.
The boy stood and brushed off the dirt from his pants. He stretched, yawned silently and began walking away from them. Sxestic hissed to catch the boy’s attention, distracting him from the hidden threat of the other male. As he hoped, the child turned to investigate the source of the noise. The scout squinted his sensitive eyes against the burning sunlight; he watched the child�
�s silhouette warily approach.
Without warning, the boy spun and darted back down the path into the orchard. The trio sprung after their prey that had already gained an immediate lead and gave chase. Patches of lumpy ground and hedge brush slowed their progress. Mareor the other male, lunged out in front of the youth, but stumbled over a taproot in its haste. The beast’s momentum thrust it into grey-leaf brambles. Dav’las and Te’bis used their superior speed, bolted past Sxestic and split to encircle and cut off the child's escape.
Bolting to the left, the child dove headlong into an overgrown wall of rose tanglevines. Te’bis shouldered through the hole the boy used while Dav’las galloped the long way to get behind the wall. Beyond the growth wall, the orchard gave way to a sloping, grassy hillside. The child had made it to the bottom and had scurried into a shallow, creek bed. The creek zigzagged to the right and across the sandy plain where it cut into the face of a high plateau; cliff walls bordered each side of the bed.
The Viestrahl females regrouped and gained ground on him in the riverbed chasm. Ahead they saw the child come to a short, oak bridge which led to stairs that climbed up to the plateau’s top. However, instead of crossing, he leapt through its posts, splashed down and continued to plod through the water. The females skidded to a stop, taken by surprise by the unpredicted course.
Roaring in anger, Sxestic signed for them to stop gawking. With the considerable lead, the boy was getting away. Yet the human pup was also getting tired and his pace slowed as the creek water deepened. The pack ran along the soft cliff walls using their claws to hook onto exposed tree roots.
The creek bed turned sharply to the left and the boy disappeared from view. Sxestic and the females came to the creek’s end which was a steep waterfall that dropped thirty feet below into a pool with high bank walls. The panicked boy could be seen below struggling to climb up the muddy banks, but kept sliding back into the water. As the females dropped into the pool, Mareor finally caught up with Sxestic at the top. He shoved Sxestic aside to plunge into the brackish water.
When he surfaced, Mareor lined up with the females and brought out a barbed net which he swung over his head in large loops. Hearing the beasts, the boy looked over his shoulder. His eyes widened in utter terror. Mareor reveled as he watched the youth scramble and try to claw at the mud.
Above Sxestic screeched commands to get the prey — the other Viestrahl advanced as a pack, but their charge was cut short. The water churned darker with a mix of black ichors. His pack writhed in the water in agony, held by something unseen.
“Traps! Traps in the water,” Dav’las screamed.
Mareor dove under the surface trying to free himself.
Another roar of surprise came from Te’bis as more human warriors erupted from their hidden dugouts and leaped upon her, tearing at her with swords and hatchets. Dav’las unsheathed her own twin steel hand spikes as she saw more humans charge out toward her. She may be snared, but she was not going down easy.
Mareor emerged and spied Sxestic at the top of the waterfall. “Help, coward!”
The scout leader shook his head and remained in vigil at the top.
The weak human creatures chattered and screeched at each other as they organized attacks upon Te’bis and Dav’las. Mareor snarled at the human child and in bitterness threw his hooked, metal net. It blanketed then slipped through the boy and landed unhindered on the mud wall. The child image faded and winked out.
Mareor roared in frustration and spun back around to stare at Sxestic. He signed, “Sxestic, tell Ramnethas of this ambush!”
The beast vanished within the pool again. A moment later, he exploded from the water, with a bleeding, ragged stump as a reward for his efforts. He landed on the embankment and crawled over the top onto a thin ledge. A human female in black and silver robes shrieked in surprise upon seeing the enraged beast next to her. She was not dressed as a soldier and Mareor sensed she was their witch. Perhaps even responsible for the boy.
Ignoring the pain from his wounds, he wrapped her in his powerful arms before she could react. His massive jaws engulfed her head and shoulders and his knife-like teeth began to shred. Mareor retracted his eye stalks inside his jaws so he that could look into her face as she died; her mouth open in pure agony.
When her struggles ceased, he let her limp body fall into the water. He balanced on a leg and pumped his arms into the air, “Orna Kah! Orna Kah!!”
He then leapt out onto the back of a soldier who was flanking Dav’las.
Te’bis lost her fight with the soldiers and she floated dead in the pool. A forked dagger and a hatchet protruded from her back.
Several soldiers fired crossbow bolts that narrowly missed Sxestic. The scout leader slapped at the water in frustration. This lure and death trap had worked well for the humans. Now all was lost – he would have to explain himself to Ramnethas rather than present a human slave.
However, he was not letting this lead to his own demise. From a leathery pouch, he produced a glass vial in each hand. With a practiced maneuver, the scout uncorked them and emptied one with acidic liquid into the waterfall while in the other hand, he waved before him. The volatile mixtures bloomed into black-grey smoke around him and plumes billowed into the pool area. He left Dav’las and Mareor to whatever fate they had and escaped back down the creek bed. The scout swore that word of these treacherous tactics would spread and their deaths would be answered for and repaid in flames.
***
Ydelle had manipulated and baited the Viestrahl like marionettes on invisible strings into the waterfall trapworks using the illusionary child. Inside her muddy fox hole, her heart beat had raced in wild fits upon seeing the vile beasts approach him inside the pit. She had felt anxious; her own emotions had fueled and enhanced the effects of her Apparition spells. The Illusionist had crafted her “baby boy” after her young nephew, Aeotel and spent many afternoons babysitting to learn his expressions.
Like a coin toss, this battle had turned and her own spellworks had evoked a terrible vengeance upon her. She laid sprawled out half in the water and half on the slimy banks. She felt her hot blood pouring from every jagged wound as the world around her lost its sharp edges. Icy waves washed over her and she heard indistinct shouts and cloudy voices above her. The Viestrahl that had nearly torn her in half fought the soldiers only four feet away from her.
Ydelle groaned as pain ripped across her body like lightning. Between flashes of consciousness, regret was the only real thing she felt. Lady mages never had their own family; never held babies to her body; never giggled along with the laughter of her children. She never would.
As one of the few women Highmages, she had always been driven and rejected the advances from any suitors. Now the very details of how she described herself seemed shallow, meaningless.
***
“Ydelle!! Ydelle, stay wit—” Sergeant Deliah Blackstaff’s words broke off as she deflected an attack with her short swords. The remaining wounded, female Viestrahl kept making desperate wide-sweeping strikes.
Deliah stood hip deep in the water as the creature leaned back to tower over her. As an experienced warrior, she knew how the animal would strike next. When it slammed down with an overhand slice as the other hand spike circled in high from the right, it whipped its long barbed tail between its legs under the water to try and impale one of the warrior’s shins. Too many fellow warriors had fallen victim this same way to poison during previous battles. This time the tail’s spikes glanced uselessly off the Sergeant’s specially crafted shin guards.
Before the creature could react, she swept in under the steel hand spikes, shot her sword butt up to smash the beast’s massive skull upward and then thrust the swords backwards deep into its exposed chest.
As the Viestrahl fell dead into the water, the Sergeant and another soldier charged to the body of the Apparition mage.
Highmage Ydelle gurgled through the blood, “So… sorry,” she whispered.
Deliah tried to calm her,
“No, no. Mistress Ydelle, do not speak. It is alright. You did great! You know you did.”
The sergeant continued to cradle Ydelle’s head and wiped the bloodied hair off her face. The other soldier stared at her. “Sergeant, aren’t you…?”
She shook her head sharply and mouthed the words "too far gone" to him.
Then Deliah thrust her hand out and pointed at the last remaining Viestrahl. Through clenched teeth, “I want him, Lieutenant Jurvanch! Do not let that beast die!!”
He ran to the remaining soldiers that circled the wounded last Viestrahl. They defended themselves when it attacked, but the Wyvernguard continued to corral him. With patience, they waited as the ichor from its own wounds drained freely.
With its last growling snarl and a wild swing, it dropped unconscious into the water. They gathered it up in iron nets and applied some simple Mending spells to keep their prisoner from escaping in death.
Rocking the Highmage in her arms, she cooed like a mother and broke into an old lullaby. Without another spoken word, Ydelle slipped away. Deliah scooped the woman into her arms and carried the body back to her own horse. On the battlefields, she had seen many days that ended like this — glory and defeat all wrapped together.
As she lifted the limp corpse over the saddle, the death hit home. It was different somehow with the Highmage’s loss.
Maybe it was the fact that Ydelle had not actually ever raised a hand to anyone or hurt another directly in her life? Maybe it was because she was one of the few women like Deliah and Letandra to make her way up the ranks of her profession? Maybe it was that complete sadness that beamed from her eyes as she lay dying in the filth of the battlefield? Maybe it was that she was dying way before her time? Maybe.
Wyvernguard stood awkwardly around with their horses trying to not note her sobs or the shake of their Sergeant’s shoulders.
Minutes later, she marched past them to the comatose body of the male Viestrahl. She squatted down next to him, stared at the beast and listened to its labored breathing. “We are going to get everything we need from you. Every single thing you know.” She emphasized and took a breath.
