by H. R. Rekow
Theron sat in silence for a moment, the golden circlet spinning round and round and catching the fire’s light. With a deep breath, he lifted his chin and put the circlet back on his head. He thought of The Wizard and wondered if he would approve of their meeting.
Overhead, The Wizard sat in the scaffolding of the Great Hall, his Red robe looped in and around the wooden support system, though none saw him. His fiery eyes were intent on Theron as they glowed from the shadows. He was smiling, for he alone saw the future and knew what it held.
Chapter 7
A Secret Meeting
Theron cleared his throat as he sat on a bench beside a window. He was seated in the passageway between the Lesser and Greater Halls where Olivia and he had first laid eyes on one another. He thought she would appreciate that. Didn’t women like such sentimental things?
He stared out the window to the courtyard below, and watched the wind play with the fruit trees. The moonlight was clear and crisp, and the stars covered the sky like leaves cover a tree. He pulled his cloak, rimmed in fox pelts, closer to himself and breathed out a slow, controlled breath to calm his nerves. It did not help.
The castle was still, as most people lay in bed, lost in sleep. A few guards walked the battlements, illuminated by intervals of fires that burned bright orange against the darkness. A few servants hurried about, completing unfinished chores. The bread maker busied himself with the next day’s batch, and the candlestick maker finished her last vat of wax with a yawn and red-eyed stare. Other than that, the fortress was silent.
A handful of Theron’s closest men knew of his secret meeting with Olivia. One stood in silence beside him, torch in hand. Elshender and another went to escort Lady Olivia to the passageway. Theron watched several bats dart through the courtyard in sporadic loops and a distant wolf howled. He shuddered and hoped it was not an ill omen.
Theron cleared his throat again and looked down at his hands. He found they shook, and he had to turn away. This was ridiculous! He had met with this girl twice now! Why all these restless nerves? He closed his eyes and willed his heart to stop its violent pounding. He let out a slow breath and opened his eyes. “Wizard help me. . .”
Footsteps fell on the stone floor, and Theron turned to face them. Olivia, her eyes wide and hands firmly held together, came into the soft light of the torch. Her eyes darted to the knights about her, then to the prince. She turned away. Theron frowned; he had frightened her. He inwardly cursed and stepped forward as she and approached. He took hold of her hands and swallowed hard.
“My lady, I did not mean to alarm you,” he said. He was surprised his voice sounded so calm. Olivia glanced at him, her shoulders rigid and lips in a thin line. She said nothing, and fixed her eyes on the ground. “I only wish to know you.”
Olivia took in a sharp breath and whispered, “And how, my lord, do you propose we do that?”
Theron lifted his chin and he stepped back. “Only to talk . . . nothing more. I am a man of honor.”
Olivia looked up at him and searched his face, the curve of his mouth, the sincerity of his gaze, and his soft hold of her hand. Her shoulders loosened as she let out a whispered breath.
Theron shook his head. “Nothing more, my lady . . .” He grinned and cleared his throat. Theron motioned her toward Elshender. “Allow me to introduce you to Sir Elshender.” The large man looked down at her and bowed low. “He is my Proxy. We have charged into battle time and again. He has saved my life more than I can count.”
“My lady,” Elshender whispered, and took her hand with a firm grip. He kissed it casually, and stepped back deeper into the shadows.
“Now—” Theron swallowed hard and forced a smile.
A small grin lined Olivia’s lips; he realized she knew he was more anxious than she was. He lifted his chin and continued, trying to ignore his coiling stomach. “Where’s your favorite place in Crown Haven?”
“Um . . .”
“Anywhere. We’ll go there, anywhere at all.”
Olivia’s eyes darted back and forth before a smile lit her eyes. “There’s one place . . . a balcony. It has a grand view—but now it is night. . . .”
“We will see the land in a new light, then. There’s a full moon.”
She nodded at Theron’s words.
“Lead on, my lady.” He stepped back and bowed as Olivia moved ahead of them. The silent few walked along the darkened hallways, their breath and light feet the only thing heard. Olivia led them down hallways, around corners, and finally to the tower’s stairway. Once they reached the top, she heaved open the door, and fresh air breezed across her face and caught up her hair.
Theron watched the moon light her smooth skin and highlight her pleasing curves. She’s beautiful. His heart pounded against his chest. He cleared his throat and looked away before he let his mind wander. He glowered and clenched his jaw. Stones on bones. . .
“Here we are, my lord,” she whispered.
Theron stepped back and did not look at her, though he wanted to. He turned and faced Elshender as he reached for the door. “Stand here and let no one in.” Elshender nodded and turned to the men beside him.
“Now.” Theron took in a breath as he faced her. “Let’s see this view you spoke so highly of.”
Theron placed his hands behind his back as the two walked to the balcony’s edge. He gazed out across the moonlit countryside, his eyes narrowed in the darkened hours. A symphony of crickets chirped from behind Crown Haven’s wall, and the occasional owl soothed the night with its song. They could smell crisp rain and knew clouds rumbled across the horizon out of sight. A wind sharply raced against the tower, and stroked all things with its cold hands. Orange dots of village fires speckled the land beyond the castle’s wall, and told of other lives with tales to tell.
Theron had come to the tower several times before, once with his mother, even. But tonight was different. Tonight he was with his wife-to-be, his future queen. Theron glanced at Olivia as she drew her shawl close against herself and breathed in the night air. Now that they were alone, he had no words to say. The night before, they had talked freely with one another, but now. . .
“The wind must be chasing its shadow tonight,” he blurted out, scrambling for a conversation to begin.
Olivia laughed, though her eyes did not smile. Theron moved to her side, but stayed an arm’s length away, and the two stared in silence. He watched her out of the corner of his eye. She kept looking at him, but saying nothing. Theron gritted his teeth. He let out a slow breath as his heart slammed in his chest. What was wrong with him? He had killed Wilder hoards and chased the survivors back into Deep Wilds, by the Silver Eye! He could talk to a woman! Theron flexed his hands to keep them warm, and nervously cleared his throat.
“Lady Olivia—”
“My lord—”
They both stopped and stared at one another. Theron smiled and looked away with a chuckle as Olivia tried to smile.
“Carry on. What is it?” he said with a grin.
“Well, I just—” Olivia swallowed hard. “I have heard you are a knight of valor.” Theron gave a half smile and turned away, shifting from one leg to the other. “You protect us from Wilders along the Western Border?”
“Any Wilders, my lady.”
“I hear they are a ruthless bunch. Are the stories true in their bloody and barbaric tales?”
Olivia hushed as a muscle in Theron’s jaw flexed, and his eyes darkened with protective hostility. She stepped back and whispered, “You want to kill them all, don’t you?”
Theron lifted his chin and looked away. “I’ve seen what those barbarians are capable of. I don’t want my kingdom threatened by their sadistic ways. They’re as bad as Charnalics.” He glanced at the land and his eyes narrowed.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Olivia’s gaze trace a scar marking his right hand and a gouge in his collar. His hands were balled into tight fists. “Are the stories true?” she asked, her voice hushed and low. “Do they eat thei
r weak children and worship stones? Are Flesh Thieves real, and can they . . . can they really live in a skinned corpse’s flesh?”
Theron did not answer for a moment, faded screams echoing in his mind. “Sometimes stories are just stories. But not every time. Not. . .” His voice trailed off, a muscle in his jaw clenched.
Olivia’s eyes widened as she stared at him. She hugged her arms around herself as the breeze grew. “What, ah . . . what other aspects of life do you find interesting?”
Theron looked at her and cleared his throat, the sudden gloom enshrouding him lifting. “Uh . . . I enjoy riding horses and griffins and—”
A gleeful grin broke through Olivia’s solemn demeanor.
Theron stopped and smiled. “Why this sudden joy?”
“Griffins.” A sparkle lit Olivia’s emerald eyes. “I’ve always dreamed of riding such creatures. They’re truly grand, and the king of all creatures!”
Theron chuckled. “Not a common beast for ladies, I’m told.”
Olivia looked away and lifted her chin defiantly. “If a prince can lie about being a messenger, I may be curious about griffins.”
“I did not lie!” Theron laughed. “I am a knight, as I appeared, and I did have a message for you.”
Olivia’s brows rose. “A prince does not customarily deliver his own messages.”
“I . . .” Theron sighed. “Stones on bones.”
Olivia grinned.
“You know, I can introduce you to some. Griffins, that is.”
“Oh, could you?” Olivia’s eyes widened. “I would love to learn how to ride them! It would be so nice to learn to fly.” She looked down at her hands, then up into the sky. An owl sailed overhead, its wings pulled against the wind as its orange eyes hunted for a meal. “To be up there, amidst the clouds and stars.” She sighed as Theron watched her gaze dreamily into the heavens. “To be free . . .”
Theron’s smile faded. “Might I ask? Do you not consider yourself as free?”
Olivia swallowed hard and pulled her shawl even closer to herself. “Not as free as I might wish,” she mumbled.
And what holds you captive, my lady? Theron’s eyes narrowed as he searched her long face.
She heaved a sigh and turned to the horizon. “My father and mother are very good people, very loving. I only remember feelings about them and a few hazy images. Nothing more.” Olivia paused; Theron watched her take in a deep breath as her shoulders sagged.
“My mother died giving birth to my younger brother, Falcure. Father was very . . . He did not know what to do. It was difficult for him. Too difficult, in fact. So, he sent me to my uncle, Earl Quinn. I have lived with them ever since. And they are. . .” Olivia's eyes narrowed. “They are not like my mother and father.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, but he knew that was not enough to soothe the wound.
Olivia smiled, though her eyes were dulled, and looked up at him. “Yes, well. . .” She sighed again and brushed hair behind her ear as it waved about her. “That was a long while ago. My uncle and aunt taught me what is good and right. . . They did their best.” Olivia glanced at the gray moon.
Theron watched her as he fought to find the right words. What could be said? He shook his head and decided to stay quiet. The distant conversations of the guards drifted from the towers as their fires waved against the growing wind. A bat shot past, mouth open in silent cries. The air dampened with the freshening smell of rain held in the bellowing clouds above.
“So.” Theron cleared his throat. “What an interesting performance tonight. Don’t you think?” He saw her glance toward Wraith’s Hollow with tensing shoulders.
“Indeed.” Her voice was low, and she turned away from the dark forest.
Theron’s eyes narrowed and he stepped forward. He took hold of her hands and looked her in the eyes. Olivia tried to pull back, but stopped herself, though she did not meet his gaze. “I apologize for that Lord Demus tale,” Theron whispered. “I didn’t know they would retell such a troublesome legend. Yet, I will protect you. Always.”
Olivia glanced up at him with a start.
“If danger falls on us in that unholy forest, I will fight for you.”
Olivia turned away, taken back. Her eyes fluttered frantically, as though never hearing such sincere reassurance before. She swallowed hard and took in a breath. “Is there any way around it?”
Theron shook his head. “The Wilders are becoming braver each year. They have been sighted between the Flat Plains and the coast. Too dangerous. Too—”
“More dangerous than to risk entering Wraith's Hollow? Risk falling into Lord Demus’s hands?” She motioned to the distant forest, her brow furrowed.
“My finest men will be with us. They have battled dark beasts before. Besides, all that hides in that forest are old hags who are entertained by tricking travelers.”
Olivia shook her head.
“We may be lucky and catch a sighting of the high tower the legends speak of. It is said that whoever sees it will travel through safely, if that would comfort you.”
“It is a simple tower and said to be in the northeast, far from Savior’s Way,” Olivia mumbled.
Theron sighed. “My lady.” He lay a hand on her shoulder and she looked at him. “I will not leave your side. If the legends are true, then my sword shall always be ready. Ready for anything. Do not fear. And The One in Red brought us together. He will not allow us to be separated by such beasts of darkness.”
Olivia looked him in the eyes and slowly nodded. Her grip on his hand tightened. “Thank you,” she whispered. She let go of his hands and stepped back; he stayed where he was, for he did not want her to move away. The wind grew strong and forced itself against the two. Olivia shivered and tried to wrap her cloak tighter around herself, as though to squeeze as much heat from it as she could. “We should go inside.”
“Aldret will learn of our meeting if we speak inside.” Theron glanced at the door, then to her. “He has eyes everywhere, I swear. We could meet another time. . .” But he did not want her to leave. Not yet. Please not yet. He stepped toward her. Olivia watched him, but said nothing. The wind struck against them with force, and grabbed their clothes and hair. The chill seeped through their coverings, springing an idea to Theron’s mind.
“Here.” He pulled off his cloak and draped it over her slender shoulders.
Olivia shook her head with a raised hand. “My lord—”
“Take it. Please.” Olivia held still, but the wind grew strong once more and whipped her hair across her face. She took the cloak and snuggled into it. She closed her eyes as the warmth thawed her fingers and shoulders. Theron smiled and looked away, his arms crossed to keep away the cold. The two looked out on the country they would rule. The stars at the horizon began to black out, one by one, as rain clouds rolled in. The bats had gone into hiding and the owl swooped away to find shelter.
Olivia took in a breath. “What’s it like?”
“What’s what like?”
“Riding a griffin.”
Theron smiled as memories flowed through his mind. “Oh, it’s like you’re on top of the world. And the wind is roaring and your hair and clothes are flying . . . and there’s nothing to stop you.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Olivia sighed. “I’ve always wanted wings, to fly away, like a harpy. To sprout wings instead of arms, and bird’s feet instead of legs, as they have. And to go on an adventure.”
“We can go on adventures.”
Olivia did not respond as she notably avoided his gaze. He opened his mouth to question her silence, but thought better of it.
“What about you?” Olivia asked. “What of your family?”
A muscle in Theron’s jaw tightened. He was silent for a moment as he chose his words carefully, so as not to shame the king’s name. The cold night was suddenly sharper than before. “I . . . My mother and I are close.”
“Hum . . . I thought so. You seem to know the ways of a woman, how to speak gently and wh
at to keep to yourself. And what of the king?”
The corner of Theron’s mouth twitched. “Father demands much.”
“I should hope so.” Olivia smiled as she glanced up at him. “You’re the king-to-be.”
Theron did not smile. His glassy heart shuddered at the images of the aged, crowned man. Theron looked up to the sky; he did not want to think of his father.
“As you said.” His voice was as flat and impassive as possible. “They did their best.”
“Indeed. That is all they can do.”
Theron took a deep breath, not letting the old man ruin another good moment. Not this one. He gritted his teeth, the cold against his flesh nothing against the cold inside him.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” she whispered. A smile softened his darkened stare. “I . . . I am beginning to see that The Wizard has found a . . . how’d you say it? A true man for me.” Theron gently nodded. Olivia frowned. “But . . . to be purely honest. . .” He looked at her. “I have to admit I am still. . .”
“Nervous?” She nodded, apologetically watching his expression. “We’re in this together,” Theron said. Olivia’s creased brow smoothed as her moist lips parted. “Don’t worry.” Theron grinned. “The Wizard will guide us.”
Olivia nodded and let out a sigh, smiling. “He’s good like that.”
“Yes. He’s always benevolent. . . To the very end.” They stood in silence, and a guard shouted suddenly, though his words were not directed at them. Theron glanced at her and eyed her stray, golden locks as they whipped about. The rest was done up in a tight braid. “I thought you liked your hair down and free.”
Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “’Tis improper. I am a lady, not a she-elf.”
“Ah, but it’s the real you, isn’t it?” Olivia did not answer. “And that’s who I long to be acquainted with.”
Theron watched a smile curve her lips upward. With a look to the right and left, she grabbed her hair and undid the braids until her hair flowed down her back. Olivia shook her head and ran her fingers through the fine, golden strands. The wind tossed it here and there, like a sea of sunshine. “I’m pleased you don’t mind me like this.” She sighed.
