She danced, ate, drank, laughed, talked and enjoyed all the performers. Callice even serenaded her with her engagement song. Mariah looked around the room and noticed her friends from Bottomfoot were having a great time. Chopkins had a circle of new friends around him as he told jokes to the guests. The people exploded in laughter as Chopkins delivered the laugh-line. Even J. Everson danced after the wine had loosened him up. She saw the handsome Sir Bastion, surrounded by inquiring ladies.
Mariah then looked at her parents dancing and remembered how only a few months ago she had thought they were dead. The incredible day ended with a moonlit walk with her lover. The two held hands and stopped occasionally to kiss. “I can’t wait for our wedding day,” she told Torvald.
TERSEN
The funeral march of King Ali-Ster Wamhoff differed drastically from his father’s. With only an empty casket to view, countless thousands of citizens mobbed the Capitol to mourn the Noble King. Women and men alike wept uncontrollably as the rolling memorial moved along. Some rough-and-tumble faces were even stained with tears that showed how much the people respected the former King. The citizens felt cheated by Ali-Ster’s short but promising rule. They watched the new King, riding a black destrier, barded in red and white enameled armor. King Ali-Tersen Wamhoff wore a golden crown with emeralds and one ruby on his forehead. The King had two hundred and fifty armored guards on duty to prevent another incident. Ali-Tersen couldn’t understand how the citizens came to love Ali-Ster so much after only a single month of rule. He had heard about women naming their sons Ali-Ster in honor of the late king. Ali-Tersen had unknowingly created a martyr for the people to celebrate through his treason in the King’s Woods. He could hear the people shouting, “Eternal shall live our king in the heavens. All seven Gods will raise his honorable soul up.” He couldn’t remember much crying or anyone chanting those phrases during King Ali-Stanley’s funeral parade. He looked at the citizens bawling uncontrollably and wondered if the same reaction would occur if he died after only a month of assuming rule.
Maybe I should give them food and coppers to gain their respect? No, I don’t even want to touch those filthy peasants. I will not pander to them like Ali-Ster. They can follow me or I will kill them all. I’ll give them the freedom to choose death or bend a dirty knee.
Later that day, the new King went to hold court in the throne room. He hated having to deal with the lower citizens of the realm and usually kicked them out before they could make a solid argument. Several men came in with petty problems only to be brushed aside by the King until one man made his way to the front of the line with a rolled-up red blanket spilling with black ashes. The old man had bright blue eyes accented by a tanned and tremendously wrinkled face. He walked up to the steps of the throne and dumped the black contents of the blanket out.
“What is the meaning of this?” King Ali-Tersen demanded. The old man spoke in a sorrowful tone, “This, this is my family. This is what’s left of my family.” “Are you accusing the realm of burning your family?” Ali-Tersen asked. “No, this wasn’t any man. A big black dragon came down and put fire to my entire village. Why would a dragon attack us?” the old man wanted to know. “I can’t answer that,” Ali-Tersen said and looked to his guards. “Take this man out of here, he is clearly delusional.”
Jake Fielder sat near the King on the stage and said, “Your majesty, there are forty other people outside with the same story and even more charred bones and bodies. I have a feeling this accusation of dragon attack seems to be truthful.”
“Be that as it may, the crown isn’t responsible for the matter and thus will not be accountable for it. Now you can take this man out of here,” said a scared Ali-Tersen. He thought the dragon was on track to punish him for what he had done to his family. The new King heard more complaints but couldn’t get the dragon attack out of his head. He kept trying to figure out a way to take control of the dragon and conquer respect from the kingdom by force.
He later went to the council meeting with a newly selected staff of advisors. He had appointed several men who he knew could be controlled. The only members who remained from the previous council were Derich Bonsfogger and Jake Fielder who said, “King Ali-Stanley and Henley Moore have left a real pile for us to dig out of. We are receiving threats from the banks of Livingstone, Kipissee, Orouland, Havasu and Irello. We are millions of gold rounds in debt and have no way to repay them.” The King shook his head as Jake Fielder continued, “With Burkeville a mess and Waters Edge not paying taxes, we are in a real bind. Dare I say we should plunder Burkeville ourselves, my lord?”
“My lord?” a flabbergasted King responded. “I am sorry, King Tersen,” Jake Fielder stumbled. “Tersen? The name is King Ali-Tersen, you damned fool. I let it go the first time but now you insult your King. Sir Oliver,” screamed Ali-Tersen.
The newly appointed Commander of the King’s Guard lumbered into the room. “Yes, your highness,” Sir Oliver Wedgeword addressed the King. “I need you to kill Lord Fielder, right here in this room to show what happens to treasonous scum,” Ali-Tersen ordered. “My pleasure,” said Sir Oliver.
Jake Fielder jumped from his seat and tried to escape but the knight caught him by the scruff of his neck and threw him to the ground. Sir Oliver jumped on Jake’s back and held him down. The Commander pulled a long dagger, grabbed Lord Fielder’s hair and pulled the council member’s head back. He slid the dagger right across Jake Fielder’s neck, creating an instant red waterfall. The dying man gasped before coughing up a volcano of blood, landing with a splash on the council room floor. Sir Oliver let go of Jake’s hair, wiped his killing device on the twitching man’s silk sleeve and stood up. The body barely went still before Sir Oliver started dragging the late Lord Jake Fielder from the room.
“Have you found that bitch yet, Sir Oliver?” the King asked. “Not yet, but I’ll check again after I dispose of this one,” he said and continued dragging the body away. “Be sure to put his head on a spike outside the castle. Let this be a lesson to all,” the King said.
The entire council sat up straight and looked horrified at the King’s actions. His new Falconer, Lord Sevroy Kalitch, asked in a meek tone, “My King?” “Yes, Lord Kalitch,” the King answered. “My spies have informed me High Lord Ichibod Ellsworth is planning to move on the crown. He bought off Broem Endo to deliver Ali-Varis to Lightview. He now has Ali-Varis and Elisa Wamhoff who he asserts have the rightful claim. He has been setting up alliances with several high lords and buying up free swords anywhere he can find them. It has also been said he has a small army of Prograggers, my King.”
“So the eunuch wants to play. I’ve seen his act. Tough up front, but he doesn’t scare me,” Ali-Tersen claimed. “Right, my King, but if King Ali-Stanley’s alleged bastard comes from the north and Lord Ellsworth from the east, we will not be able to withstand a two-front attack. We are not well prepared for a siege either,” Derich Bonsfogger gently said. “We just need to keep the Blue Caps garrisoned and I’ll carve up Lord Ellsworth like a fattened pig, that I can promise you men,” Ali-Tersen said with confidence.
“Another problem is the letters from Kryen Wamhoff, causing some of the high lords in Fox Chapel to flock to Lord Ellsworth’s side,” Derich Bonsfogger informed. “The man has no claim whatsoever with a twice-removed king’s incompetent son. I am the last remaining Wamhoff male able to rule a kingdom. Ali-Varis has been removed already and has no claim to the throne. Rightful heir, my ass. I am the rightful King, especially after surviving that scare in the King’s Woods,” Ali-Tersen boasted.
“Well, the other problem is all the knights and common folk who Ali-Ster had rallied for battle have left the Capitol after his demise. Almost fifteen thousand have returned home. We couldn’t maintain the extremely low wage the knights were receiving. Almost half were only fed and not even paid, but they only came to defend Ali-Ster it would seem,” Lord Kalitch reported.
“Traitors, every last one of them. I want them rounded up and I want their he
ads on spikes,” the King demanded. “We cannot remove men designated for defending the castle and fighting to go after these men. We cannot pay anyone to track them down either. We are in an extreme bind monetarily,” Derich Bonsfogger said.
King Ali-Tersen had not realized what a dire mess of a kingdom he had inherited. Every day the news became grimmer and panic started to attack his soul. He wanted to give the realm to someone else, but his fate had been sealed. Sir Oliver busted into the meeting again and spoke, “My King, we have her at the outer bailey on the north end of the castle.”
“That’s all for now, gentlemen. I have other affairs to tend to,” the King announced. Everyone scattered and the King briskly walked down the hall with three guards in tow. He hoped this would solve his problems of ghostly visions and sleeplessness. He remembered his brother Ali-Stanley had always praised the Priestesses of the Gods. Ali-Tersen stopped in his tracks and stared at the floating image of Ali-Ster Wamhoff. He wore a crown of twisted arrows stuck through his bloody head and spoke, “I warned you of this haunting. You stole my crown and castle. I’ve come to take them back.”
King Ali-Tersen saw confused guards and looked back to nothing. Only stale, sultry castle air slowly swirled around him. He continued walking and thought about the regular nightmares that now occurred daily. Visions of his bloody nephew also appeared day and night. Ali-Ster always wore a crown of some sort and had seven arrows in his body. The image had been branded into Ali-Tersen’s memory. “Leave me to walk alone,” he said to the guards.
He walked past his son’s quarters and Ali-Ster appeared again. The King turned and darted into Neron’s room. “Oh, fuck me, fuck me,” he heard moans of passion from his son’s mouth. Ali-Tersen stared in disgust as his Falconer rammed his son from behind. The embarrassed Lord Kalitch pulled a cover over himself and the startled King hastily fled the room. He walked fast, but came upon Ali-Ster once more.
“Why did you do it?” the former king demanded. “Did you need the crown that bad? You killed your family to inherit a mess you can’t possibly clean up by yourself,” the ghost scolded the King.
The frightened Ali-Tersen remained silent and moved in the other direction. He managed to get to the inner bailey after being chased by the floating image of his nephew. The King’s heart raced and he didn’t even have time to think about his son and top advisor having sexual relations. He could only keep peering around for the ghost to chastise his decisions.
Sir Oliver Wedgewood called him over. The knight had the Priestess of the Gods tied to a wooden post. She wore a thick wool jacket and Sir Oliver had coated the entirety with the amethyst-looking soft wax known as purple fire. The Commander had even covered her legs with the substance. Her long, braided black hair was stuck to the jacket and Sir Oliver even globbed some of the remaining purple fire on top of her head.
Ali-Tersen slowly walked over to her and looked to make sure no one was close enough to hear, “You said my nightmares would cease. You said I would be able to sleep again. What good are you alive, I must ask?”
The Priestess of the Gods slowly said in a soothing tone,
“I am only here to help you so,
Wise songs doth sing the crow,
Take these words for what you will,
Your family mayhaps, you should not kill,”
She stared into Ali-Tersen’s soul aided by her poignant words. The King tried to play off the event to his Commander of the Guard. Completely covered from head to toe in his normal white and red, the King perspired even more than usual and quickly said, “More senseless words. Let’s see if this fire jacket idea could become a source of entertainment in carrying out the king’s justice.”
The knight lit a rag and tossed it toward the humming Priestess. “I want to hear this bitch scream,” shouted the King. A rush of purple flames engulfed the woman and crisped her pale body instantly. The flames found more ferocity, stoking twenty feet into the air after surging through the Priestess’ body. The pasted jacket proved a torturous-looking device but the Priestess softly hummed a beautiful rhythm, never breaking the soothing sounds despite the loud crackling of her boiling, black skin. The stink began to bother Ali-Tersen, but he knew he couldn’t get sick in front of the gathering crowd of forty people.
A minute had passed and the flames melted away the woman’s skin. With only bones remaining, her head slumped down but the eerie melody continued. The skull looked up, and it was the former King wearing a crown of arrows again. Visions of Ali-Ster haunted the King wherever he went.
The King still heard the Priestess’ humming in the background as Ali-Ster spoke, “Why didn’t you kill me yourself? If you had, I would have given you enough respect not to haunt you. A coward deserves to be haunted by the dead. Uncle Ryen told me the stories of the sissy albino.”
The flames slowly subsided and Ali-Tersen went back into the castle and up to his bedchamber. His wife, Alvyra, sat at a table, sorting through papers. “My King,” she exclaimed upon his entrance. Tersen sniffed around the room, “Who was just in here? I smell the perfume of a man and it reeks of sex in here.”
“Stop that. You know I would never be untrue to the King chosen by the Gods. You are my Lord, King, husband and when you die, you will be a God. How could I betray my own God? This crown weighs heavy on the mighty fox’s head,” she said, trying to calm down Ali-Tersen.
The first day he took the throne had been the best day of Ali-Tersen’s life. The day after became the worst and each day since had become progressively worse than the one before. He toiled in the mire of self-regret and couldn’t truly concentrate on anything. He hadn’t slept for over a half hour at a time since the crown landed on his head.
“You survived that attack in the woods for a reason,” she smiled at the King. “You and Neron are the chosen ones. You will rule and Neron next and then his son and his son after. We will rebuild the Wamhoff name. You have a chance to stand for honor and I know you will choose the right trail. The muddy, murky path will become clear soon enough and you can show what kind of man you truly are. However, for the time being, matters may get a bit nasty,” she informed her husband.
“Yes, well, I’m glad you’re confident. There are problems at every turn and I don’t know how to fix them,” Ali-Tersen confessed. Alvyra stood up and walked over to the King. She sat him on a stool and began to massage his tense shoulders. She said, “I know what you need to do. Pray to the Gods and pray hard. You are the chosen one who will be a God one day. They favor you if you should only ask. They will help to guide your people through the storm. Show honor and bravery, then the realm will respond. You were sent directly from the Gods to save Donegal. The Gods knew it would take one of their own to solve all these problems. The Gods only test their strongest soldiers. They knew Ali-Ster couldn’t handle the realm, so I had to come up with the plan for us to take care of him and Ryen just as I came up with the plan for the ambush to take Ryen and Ali-Ster away on a hunt. I will always find a way for us,” she smiled.
“Please, I beg, let’s never speak about those matters again,” he said. She responded, “A King should never beg. What’s done is done and will never be undone. I am your loyal wife. These words are now forgotten for all my days. I only serve you. I saw the Gods’ plan for you on our wedding night. The Faith of Eternal Light runs through you. I’ve gotten us this far. Don’t quit on us now. You knew it would be a tough battle and the war hasn’t even started yet.”
“Which war?” the King asked. His wife answered, “The inevitable war. Problems usually tend to cause more problems with blood suckers. A man is more likely to attack a wounded boar than a beast at full charge. Men have done much worse things to get the crown. Don’t be so quick to forget how your so-called family treated you. They called you the worthless albino behind your back. They said Ali-Varis brought less shame to the family. Look forward, not behind, but always remember this. How many times did your nephew put his hands on you before you were forced to take action? Soon these citizen
s will love you just as they loved Ali-Ster.” She continued massaging, but the tension only seemed to get worse. She whispered in her husband’s ear, “We do have to talk about the bastards. I am so glad King Ali-Stanley entrusted you to look after all of his bastards. We have accounted for all of them with the exception of one. A Blairs Beak bastard boy from long ago and probably dead by now,” she assured him. Ali-Tersen asked, “How old would he be?” Alvyra walked over to the papers and found the one she wanted. “Thirty years old, my King. Says his mother named him Torryn,” she reported and walked back over to the King.
They talked for a while and King Ali-Tersen noticed night had fallen. He walked out on the balcony for some late summer air. A slight breeze ruffled his white hair as he looked at the stars. The cloudless night exposed almost every star in the sky along with a clear half-moon. The stars began moving around and rearranged themselves into a figure. They looked like a man wearing a crown. Ali-Tersen rushed inside to see his wife working on her needlepoint. Someone pulled the chair out and sat next to his wife. Ali-Ster sat casually with his legs crossed and asked, “Is it easy being king? The man who sits the throne shall never enjoy comfort. They aren’t just words to be whistled,” the ghost said.
“I didn’t know, alright. I just didn’t know,” Ali-Tersen replied, almost in tears. “Excuse me, my King?” his wife asked. He stared blankly at her for a moment and spoke, “I need to go for a walk.” “Alright, my King, I will put this away,” she responded.
Fractured Families (The Pearl of Wisdom Saga Book 2) Page 42
