“He is a fool,” Halfax growled.
“No one said he can't be both.”
#
The rush of intensity carried Terrilius deep into Ravenwood before it wore thin. When it did, it left him barefoot in an unfamiliar forest, clothed only in a robe, and armed only with a small knife. A dozen wounds throbbed, and the frozen air burned at his lungs, but still he willed himself forward. It wasn't fear or duty or even survival that drove him. He simply didn't know what else to do, and he had to do something. His pace dropped from a limping sprint to a painful trudge, and before long to a crawl to spare his freezing feet.
His plan had been to retreat, regroup, and retry. At the time, it had seemed obvious and natural. Now he was aware of a number of critical flaws in his plan. He had no men to regroup with, nowhere to retreat to, and no means to retry. The thought that he might die had never occurred to him. Not when he fought the dragon, not when he realized the nature of his host, and not now. His only concern was that he could not succeed at his task. A prince did not freeze. A prince did not fall in battle to a dragon. The only fear was disgrace, failure.
There was the crunch of footsteps. Slowly, he turned to see a pair of feet standing beside him. A moment later, his boots dropped on the ground in front of him. He looked up to see Jade, a blanket under one arm and a steaming flask in one hand.
“Ready to stop acting like a fool?” she asked.
“Where is your dragon?” he asked.
She shook her head and grinned. “My dragon. I asked him to wait back at the tower. I know he makes you nervous.”
“H-how do I know I can trust you?”
“What could I possibly do to you that you haven't already done to yourself? If I wanted to kill you, I could have left you the way I found you and let nature take its course.”
“Y-you could b-be trying to bewitch m-me.”
“Well, then. Your options are to potentially be bewitched or certainly freeze to death. Would you like a moment to decide?” she asked, holding out a hand.
After a few more painful breaths, he took her hand and pulled himself up. Jade brushed the snow from him, wrapped him in the blanket, and handed him the flask.
“Now,” she said, leading him to a fallen log, “we are going to have a seat, you are going to put your boots on, you are going to warm up, and you are going to tell me what all of this is about. Depending on what I hear, I may take you back and fix all of the damage you've done to yourself. Again.”
It was a curious tone she used as she spoke. She didn't seem to be ordering him about. Rather, she was simply informing him of what would happen. The prince nodded numbly, dropping the knife to wrap both hands around the mercifully warm flask. It contained more of the broth, and the warmth that spread through him as he drank was revitalizing. When the chill finally left his voice, he spoke.
“I am the prince.”
“That much I'd gathered.”
“My father is a good man, but . . . he doesn't rule wisely. He feels it is his duty to keep his people safe, but the only threat he understands is invasion. He thinks a strong army is all he needs. But there are other problems. Disease. Hunger. He ignores them. I know that I can do better, that I can find ways to protect against all of these things, or at least try. When I become king, I will find a way . . . but . . . I have always known I am not respected. Always felt it. I ask questions, I listen. That isn't what princes do, and certainly not what kings do. They act!
"Still, I didn't think it mattered. When I am king, they will have to respect me. But a man came to me and told me what people really thought . . . and that there were others who would take my throne away if they could. I knew that he was speaking the truth. I've seen them, and I know that my father thinks more highly of they than me. If I want to claim the throne I believe is my birthright, I knew that I would have to do something to earn their respect. He spoke of the sorceress and dragon . . . you, and your beast.”
“His name is Halfax.”
“Halfax. For three years, hunting much deeper than the fringe of Ravenwood has been forbidden in order to keep people safe from . . . you. If I could lead a mission to take the forest back, surely I would have their respect again.”
The prince felt a sense of relief in telling his tale, as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Voicing his fears or doubts to anyone in the palace would only make him seem weaker, but for some reason he felt comfortable telling them to Jade. None of this felt real to him. It was like confessing in a dream.
Jade nodded, adding, “Well, that explains a lot. It doesn't justify anything, but it explains plenty. So what are your plans now?”
“I . . . don't know. You are not what I had expected. But I can't let my people live in fear of you any more. I need to reclaim the forest. I can't go back without doing so.”
Terrilius glanced about for a moment, his eyes coming to rest upon the knife where he had dropped it. He then looked to the eyes of his host. She didn't even have the courtesy to look nervous.
“You trust me not to hurt you? Knowing what I've told you?”
She chuckled.
“You were half dead when Halfax brought you in, and if you were to so much as look at me the wrong way, he would have a hard time keeping himself from finishing the job. Let's just say I'm not worried.”
“But you said you asked him to stay behind.”
“I did, and yet . . .”
She turned, prompting him to do the same. Looming over them, nearly close enough to touch them, was Halfax. The prince nearly leaped out of his skin, a firm hand from Jade the only thing that kept him from falling to the ground.
“I told you he wasn't obedient.”
“But--how could he--I didn't hear a thing!”
“He's rather stealthy when he wants to be. Can you walk? Do you need help? I'd like to get you back to the tower and fix the stitches on your leg before you stain my robe too badly.”
He made his way unsteadily to his feet, relying more than he cared to admit on the steady arm of his host as he did. The pair then made their way slowly back to the tower, Halfax following ominously behind.
#
“Here, drink this, it will help with the pain,” Jade said when they reached her home.
“That is not necessary,” he assured her.
“It isn't necessary because the one I poured down your throat while you were unconscious hasn't quite worn off yet. It will soon, and I'm about to run this through your leg a few times,” she said, holding up a needle.
With what little dignity he could salvage, the prince took the cup and drained its contents. Almost as soon as the last drop was swallowed, the pain from his many wounds faded to little more than a dull ache. When she went to work with her needle, he was aware of it as a distant prickling sensation.
“Your magical skill is remarkable, sorceress,” the prince said, “I am glad to know that your talents can be used for good as well as evil.”
Jade stopped and narrowed her eyes at him briefly before resuming her task.
“First, I haven't cast any spells on you, and I don't intend to,” she said as she worked. “That is a potion, so I wouldn't be a sorceress, I'd be an alchemist. Second, I've only cast perhaps five spells in my life. I would hardly call that a mastery of sorcery.”
“But you control the dragon! Do not dare suggest that you trained this beast to behave as it does.”
“Well, you're right about the training. The only things I ever taught him were how to cook and how to tend a garden. Most of the training went in the other direction.”
“I don't understand.”
“He raised me, Terry. Right here in this very tower, ever since I was six years old. Which reminds me. If you really thought he and I were so dangerous, why did you wait until three years ago to put a stop to all of the hunting?”
“Do not try to fool me. It was three years ago that you came to this place. Hundreds of my people witnessed you soaring overhead on the back of your beast, an
d you brought with you a storm impossibly brief and impossibly potent.”
“Listen, I am telling you, I have lived here for twelve years! You can ask the people of Rook, they know me there. And besides, the last storm was--oh. Oh, I understand.”
“What?”
“You'll see in a bit. Feet!” she said, sitting in a chair before him and patting her lap.
He automatically raised his feet and put them on her lap. It wasn't until she was halfway through unlacing his boots that he paused to question why she had asked for his feet--or, for that matter, why he had given them. It was something in the way she spoke, the way she seemed to assume she would have cooperation when she asked for it. Or perhaps it was the way she seemed to be so comfortable, so at ease in what she was doing. One simply felt obliged to obey. Terrilius told himself that it must be magic, but somehow it felt . . . natural.
“What are you doing?”
“You were running around in a frozen forest with your bare feet while under the effects of a pain-dulling potion. Between frostbite and jagged ice, I would like to make sure you still have all of your toes,” she explained.
His feet were indeed a sorry sight, but a few dabs of medicine and a few bandages set them right again.
“Good, now get dressed. I'll show you what you came here to find,” Jade said, handing to the still robe-clad prince the stained clothing he had been wearing beneath his armor.
“I--you--well, turn around, please,” the prince replied.
With a grin, Jade turned until the prince was finished.
“All done? Follow me, and walk gently. I'm not sewing that leg up again.”
Jade walked with the prince in tow for several minutes. There were a dozen things that should have been occupying the mind of the young nobleman. He should have been thinking about what she was bringing him to see, or perhaps what other things she might have done to him in the course of healing him.
Terrilius's mind, though, was firmly and unshakably focused on the woman before him. She was gorgeous, certainly, but there was no shortage of beauty in the castle. Likewise she was intelligent, and indeed there was not nearly enough of that. To the prince, the most impressive facet of Jade was her attitude. She had an honesty and confidence that he simply had never encountered before. The other nobles, the servants, the diplomats . . . they all behaved the same way. They spoke to the title, not to the man. A veneer of respect over a sea of contempt was the attitude he had come to expect from others. This woman, regardless of everything else, spoke to him as an individual. He wasn't Prince Terrilius. He was Terry. It was unsettling, disorienting, and fascinating.
They approached a clearing that resembled the remains of a dismantled lumber camp. The jagged, half-rotten stumps of trees that looked like they had been snapped off jutted from the ground. A mound of snow-covered rubble lay at one end of the clearing. For the most part, the place was dominated by a shallow black crater of charred earth. The air carried a vague but stinging odor, like burnt flesh and strong acid. There was a different quality to the cold as well. Something about it cut deeper here, creeping its icy fingers up the spine and into the mind.
“This is where it happened. Three years ago. A woman came. I don't know where she came from or what sent her, but she was certainly a sorceress. It must have been she who your people had seen,” Jade said, with a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold, “That was a terrible day. I remember it so well. It was all Halfax could do to defeat her, and it almost cost him his life. That's what gave him the scar. That's what ruined his wings.”
Terrilius looked into the crater as she continued.
“Three years . . . and snow still refuses to fall where she died. She rode in on this . . . thing,” the young woman continued, walking over to the pile of rubble and brushing aside enough snow to reveal a skull-like head. “Halfax calls it a dragoyle. Nasty thing, but not nearly as nasty as her.”
The prince looked over the decayed creature. The thought crossed his mind that she could be lying, but . . . the evil in this place was unmistakable. It hung in the air, pressing in on the mind like an oppressive heat. He didn't feel so much as a hint of the same from Jade. If this was what remained of a true evil sorceress, and it could be nothing else, then the woman beside him was nothing of the sort.
“If you came to defeat her, your job was done for you long ago.”
“So it would seem . . .”
“You honestly came here hoping to defeat those two just to prove yourself worthy for the throne?”
“I did, and to restore the use of the forest to my people. Now it isn't to be.”
“Well, the woods are yours. Ravenwood is massive. I didn't run into any hunters or the like in the years prior to your father's denial of access. I see no reason why anything would change.”
“That is a blessing for my people, but it will do nothing for my standing among my peers,” Terrilius said woefully.
Jade looked to the prince's down-turned mouth. He didn't seem angry or disappointed. Not once had he even lashed out about Halfax attacking him. There was nothing in his expression but regret and failure. He wanted glory, but not for any of the reasons that men normally sought it. To him it was a currency, a means to achieve what he felt he must.
“I am sorry to have disturbed you in this place. And I am sorry to have accused you. I will leave you to your tower, and I thank you on behalf of my kingdom for your aid.”
“You aren't going anywhere just yet,” Jade replied.
“I don't understand. I feel well enough.”
“Again, only so long as the painkiller lasts, and I'm afraid you won't be getting another. It helps during treatment, but it slows the healing. When it wears off, I've got to administer something to speed the healing or I guarantee that one of those open wounds is going to take a turn for the worse, and in your state I doubt you'd survive it. In a few hours, you are going to become keenly aware of how many of your ribs Halfax managed to break, and how close he came to doing the same to your right arm.”
“I must return to the castle.”
“You will, but even with the help of healing potions, it is going to be at least another day before I feel you are ready to be bopping along on the back of a horse without rattling your bones apart again,” she said.
“Men will come looking for me.”
“Good. It will save us the trouble of tracking down your horse. Come on, back to the tower,” she said, placing a hand upon his shoulder.
The short journey back to the tower was a quiet one. Terrilius had a look of despair that tugged at Jade's heart.
“Look, for three years everyone took it for granted that there was an evil sorceress in the forest. No one, not even the others vying for the crown, tried to confront her until you did. That has to be worth something,” she offered.
“Spare me your sympathy, Miss Jade. I appreciate the kindness, but it simply isn't necessary. Is there anything I can do to aid my recovery?”
“As little as possible. When we get back to the tower, you should just lie down and rest. The treatments are going to be taxing your body's resources fairly heavily, and you'll be feeling it soon. You are in for a rough few days.”
When they reached the tower once more, she laid him down on the cot and began issuing orders.
“Sleep if you can. There's broth in the pot and a bowl on the table. Eat if you're hungry. In fact, eat even if you aren't hungry. Healing up those breaks and tears in days instead of weeks is going to take every drop of raw material you can muster, so try to keep your belly full. I'll be tending to the garden and some other chores. Yell if you need me . . . and don't touch anything.”
Terrilius lay upon the cot and gazed out the window at the snowy forest. As thoughts of failure and sorrow swirled in his mind, he squinted at the shadows between the trees. Just visible was the form of Halfax. Watching. With that chilling reality sitting heavily among the churning thoughts, he tried to get to sleep.
Chapter 10
It
was hours before Jade offered more than a glimpse indoors to check on her patient. She was unaccustomed to company, and thus left something to be desired as a hostess. The sun was setting when she was through for the day. Her first stop was the pot of broth. Nearly empty.
“At least he follows orders,” she muttered to herself.
She turned to the cot. He was lying where she had left him, but one look was all it took to know that sleep was not in his future. Sweat dripped from his forehead and drenched his clothes. His fists were clenched so tight they trembled, and his face bore a look of iron-hard concentration. The pain had returned, and it was clearly all he could do to bear it. She placed a hand upon his forehead. It was burning again. This was to be expected. His injuries had been severe, and while the things she had learned allowed her to work wonders, those wonders came at a cost.
“I'd like to tell you the worst is over, but . . . there is more on the way. Much more. Try to imagine it as all of the pain and suffering you would have felt over the normal healing process, but compressed into just a few hours. It is going to be an ordeal.”
His only reply was the quick, short hiss of his breathing.
“Listen, you need to try to focus on something else. If you don't distract yourself, it will seem a thousand times worse.”
He turned his bloodshot eyes to her before shutting them again.
“Here,” she said, taking his hand and holding it tightly, “I'm right here. Talk to me. Was it worth it? Knowing how you feel now, and knowing that the sorceress and her beast would have left you in an even worse state, do you still feel like you needed to do this?”
“Yes, it was worth it! Even to try!” he growled through the pain.
“Really? Why?”
“Because a king needs to be more than a general! A king needs to care about more than borders. He . . . he sees Tressor and . . . they have an army. A massive one. They are not threatening, not moving, but . . . he sees an army, and he thinks the only way he can be safe is to have a bigger one. But we can't! We don't have the population for that! They will always have a bigger army. And when we begin massing troops, Kenvard and Ulvard start building up troops. It is dangerous! Unnecessary! There are better ways!”
The Book of Deacon Anthology Page 141
