Ed focused back into reality. He now firmly had two fingers deep inside Caroline and could feel the warm rush over his hand. Caroline squealed in pleasure. She was great in bed, but after almost five years she had yet to bear him a child. They once had sex every night for half a year without positive results. Ed even fathered two bastard children during that time to make sure that he wasn’t the problem. His father warned him about it and for that Ed hated him. Caroline had two barren aunts that made Tyus Etburn believe she would never give him a grandson.
Ed was about to shove Caroline onto her back when she stopped him. Ed cocked his head slightly in a questioning manner until Caroline put a finger over his lips and pushed him onto his back.
She leaned down close to his ear and sexily whispered, “I have a treat for you.”
He felt the heat over his entire body as Caroline lay on top of him, massaging herself up and down.
She is up to something. I can’t believe it.
She grabbed his throbbing manhood and held it to her pleasure spot, allowing the hot, steamy passion to build. Then her moistened love box sank down on his familiar member, screaming as she reached the bottom.
Caroline Leeson, a real beauty, had lived a nice life in the Etburn castle. Ed had sacrificed a lot of family strain with his father because of her. She was short, even for a female, but had a lovely face. Her long blond hair, which was often braided, seemed like sunshine sprouting from her head. Caroline’s endearing smile could melt the heart of the most hardened man. Her only problem was that she trusted too many people. Ed’s wife seemed perfectly splendid until the short man from the harbor poisoned her head.
Caroline speeded up her lovemaking, leaning down and kissing her husband. In between deep moans she gasped, “I love you.”
With her husband distracted, she grabbed it from under the pillow. It was colder than she expected. Caroline quickly raised and plunged the knife down toward Edburgh’s heart.
“It’s over,” she thought. Then the voice rang in her head, “You will rule Waters Edge…You know what you must do,” it echoed. “It’s all over,” she thought again as she felt drunker than ever before without even drinking.
Edburgh caught her wrist effortlessly and the knife stopped less than an inch from his chest. Before she realized it, Caroline was flat on her back, nose bleeding, her own knife’s blade now pressed firmly to her throat.
“That is how it feels. That is what it feels like to have a knife coming at you,” Edburgh whispered. He raised his voice and said quickly, “I’ve had hundreds of swords pointed at me, thousands mayhaps; knives and daggers not quite as many. And you thought you would be the one?”
He released the pressure of the blade slightly from her neck.
“Was it my father?” Ed questioned.
“No,” Caroline squeaked.
Ed pressed the knife down again and his usually innocent visage took on the look of a madman, “Are you certain?” he growled.
“I swear it,” said Caroline delicately, fearing the slightest flinch may cause her throat to be slashed. Ed leaned back and removed the knife entirely from his wife’s throat.
“He wouldn’t tell me his name. He…he said he was going to usurp Waters Edge and if I didn’t comply he was going to rape and kill me.” Caroline cowered as Ed stared right through her eyes. Her bright-blues were open windows that let him look straight into her evil intentions.
Only one person’s name came into Edburgh Etburn’s head. He couldn’t believe it.
I can’t trust anyone in this world.
The feeling reminded him of when he had heard the news that his brother Rollo died. He still believed his brother was the only family member that had truly loved him. Edburgh had partially snapped that day and right now the same anger resurfaced like a flood rising up. Once again, rage ran cold through the body of Edburgh Etburn.
“How did you know I was plotting it?” Caroline questioned.
“A wise man once told me, ‘Sin lies and dies in the eyes of the beholder,’” he responded. “In your case, it was all over your naked body, not just in your eyes. We have been married for ten years, I know when my wife is up to something,” Ed told her.
Damn, they are beautiful eyes. How could somebody turn her against me?
But he couldn’t afford to get distracted by her looks.
“Now what am I to do with you?” he asked while rubbing his pointed chin.
“I promise, I will do anything,” Caroline chimed in.
Edburgh totally lost it now.
“Promise?” he screamed. “You DID promise, remember? You promised your life to me. Now you attempt to kill me. You promised me children. We have no children.”
Caroline countered by crying uncontrollably.
Ed, suddenly soothing her, slowly said, “I do feel for you, let’s just make certain this doesn’t happen again.”
Before Caroline could start to smile, her erstwhile knife entered her body. The cold, hard steel came in under her tongue, through the roof of her mouth, and into Caroline’s brain. She quivered as life slowly ebbed away, under her own murder weapon, for several moments before lying still.
“Sorry, but there is only one way to be sure you will not try to kill me again,” he whispered while removing the knife.
Edburgh wiped the blood off both sides of the blade and stood up over the body.
“Mattingly forged steel,” he said aloud as he stared at the knife.
It was the greenish blade referred to as Dragon-Steel. The knife had a golden cross-guard and black leather grip with red fibers alternating with the leather in a strange pattern. The pommel looked like a silver spiked mace as Ed threw it on the bed.
Caroline Leeson was slumped on the floor as bare as the day she was brought into the world, except for one thing. With a quick motion, Edburgh snatched the silver necklace from her neck and clutched it tightly in his palm. Vengeance now colored his every action.
I just had to murder the only person I loved. Did I really need to kill her? Mayhaps I have drunk too much? Wait, of course I had to, she was going to kill me. But I should have made her give me his name. No. I know the man who put her up to this, and he shall pay with blood.
Ed slumped back in a chair and poured an overflowing glass of strong spirits. He drank it faster than most men should. Edburgh Etburn stared at his wife, dead on the floor, as the room began to spin.
THE LITTLE DRAGON
JON
“You boys ought know, we are only as well-off as the poorest man in Mattingly,” Jon Colbert clarified to his sons. Krys, Ryno and Ruxin walked behind their father as he continued, “Just because some people are born into the right family, they don’t deserve a lifelong advantage. We need to empower every man that can provide a skill.”
Ruxin shook his head, “Father, I have been told by friends that if you put power into the hands of the lowborn, they will behave like barbarians.”
Jon Colbert quickly retorted, “Our family used to be considered lowborn. If it was not for your grandfather taking a stand, we might not stand here today. Do WE behave like barbarians? I scarcely think so. It was those who betrayed your grandfather that acted like cold-blooded barbarians. Let us not forget what we come from, boys.” His deep voice bellowed over the chattering crowds.
Jon Colbert always seemed to remain serene even when he raised his voice. They continued to stroll away from the castle.
Jon Colbert led the way and stood closest to the ground. He was compact, stout and powerful. Jon had closely cut blond hair and a long golden goatee. His bright green eyes lit up in the Mattingly sunshine. An ill-placed lance during a tourney about fourteen years ago had left him with a mangled nose and random headaches.
It had the makings of an exquisite day in Riverfront, the Capitol of Mattingly. The frost had finally tiptoed away for another year and the early harvest danced in the wind. The aroma of lavender wafted through the air, occasionally stopping to tickle the nose. There was a bustle in the city wit
h large crowds traveling in to buy necessities for their homes. The Colbert men continued down the crowded street away from the city.
Along the path there were different shops that sold everything from live, local animals to exotic silks from Gama Traka. Jon noticed a tiny piglet in a pen. The babe suckled on its mother’s milk, fresh as early-dawn dew. Across the road, buyers haggled with merchants to negotiate better prices for whatever their eyes fancied. Everyone bowed deeply to Duke Colbert and the boys with great respect as they passed.
“Where is Riceros?” Jon Colbert asked.
His son, Ryno, scratched his ear and said, “Last I saw, he was in the library with Count Sproul.”
“Will you ever reveal the truth to Riceros, father?” Krys challenged Jon.
“Someday, aye. I am just unsure of when the right time will be. You should worry more about your bride to be than your younger brother,” Jon slyly reminded him.
Krys had a gawky smile but didn’t have a ready response. He was a fierce combatant, but rather clumsy with women. Krys was lanky and extremely nervous about his upcoming wedding in the winter. His father knew mentioning it would draw his thoughts far away from the topic Jon despised discussing.
The Colbert men got distracted as they converged on the forging yard. This big area contained fifty raging furnaces lined up in a giant square. The sweet songs of metal hammers pounding glowing steel sounded melodic to their ears. These noises were offset by the constant smoldering of all the furnaces. The sounds got thunderous as they entered the yard. Jon looked back to see big grins on the faces of his progeny. They all had the brown hair and eyes of their mother, along with the determination of their father.
The forging yard was slightly on the outskirts of the city. Constantly covering the furnaces loomed a large slanted roof that hovered twenty feet above their heads. The enormous wooden structure appeared black from all the smoke it had swallowed over the years. But it did serve to keep out most of the rain, except for the precipitation that came in sideways. Seven Colbert flags proudly hung around the structure at regular intervals. The solid black flag with a golden bull represented the Colbert family that ruled Mattingly.
A townsman walked up, pointed at a furnace, and asked a forger, “Tis thee?”
The craftsman smiled showing several missing teeth, and cheerfully said, “Tis our Little Dragon.” The townsman stood in reverence for a moment until the worker said, “They are for forging our blades, good man.”
The boys could clearly see the furnaces now. They were stone-based burning furnaces with ornate black metal caps. The tops were shaped like a dragon’s head gazing up to the sky with gold painted eyes. Smoke shot out of the opened nose, up to the roof, and filtered into the Riverfront sky. Someone had etched “LITTLE DRAGON” on the base of the furnaces. The metals were melded together in the hot fire for three straight days before crafting the steel. These men were the top blade makers in all of Mattingly. They were the highest quality swords Mattingly produced. Jon Colbert reserved these swords that everyone called Dragon-Steel, for the residents of Mattingly. All lesser swords were sold to other regions or realms. Jon even had a building in which they constantly experimented with different metal contents for maximum results. That was where they came up with the recipe for the Dragon-Steel. He also kept strict records of those who bought every sword to make sure no one was arming for rebellion or re-selling the weapons.
They walked the yard for about an hour before heading back to the castle. While walking home, Jon could feel it setting in. One of his headaches was coming on. The intense pains always arrived randomly. He never knew when the pain would strike, but once it started the feeling was unmistakable. He realized that he only had a little time until light and sound would be his worst adversaries.
I hoped these pains would stop someday. But I suppose I might not be that lucky.
As they walked, Jon Colbert listened to his sons’ talk.
“Yes, you were. I saw it in your eyes,” Krys mocked his younger brother Ruxin.
“I was not afraid. Not even for a single moment.”
Krys and Ryno gave their younger brother a hard time. It made him tougher over the years, but it still bothered Ruxin. All three boys had gone off to fight for two years on the Donegal-Goldenfield border so they could return as men. It was a common custom in Donegal to help cut a boy’s teeth. High- and low-born men mingled with the winning duel criminals to battle Goldenfield. Most soldiers stuck with the men from their own region, but they were all fighting a common enemy. Jon Colbert was glad they reached the castle now as his head was really starting to pound. He excused himself from the boys and headed for his chambers. He unsteadily climbed the steep steps, nodding at his guards as he passed them. He lightly pushed open the door to see his wife and daughter talking.
“Hello father,” said Mariah cheerfully.
“Hello, my darling daughter,” he responded as he hugged and kissed her on the forehead.
His wife took one look at him and shook her head. “You have a headache haven’t you?”
“A little one, aye,” Jon feebly replied.
“Well lie down, let me fetch a cold rag for your eyes,” Camelle said softly.
The cold rag and bed only made him feel slightly better. He closed his eyes tight, trying to force sleep.
“My dear, I am really worried about these headaches.” As he drifted off, Jon Colbert wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or if his wife was really talking.
“How often do they occur now?” Mariah asked.
Camelle looked over at Jon and turned to her daughter, “At least twice a month now, sometimes more oft than that. One day they might only last for an hour or two, other times almost half a day.”
Concern flashed through the brown eyes of Camelle Colbert. She was a tall woman with brown hair and a warm smile. Conventional beauty had eluded Camelle, but her other attributes molded her into a great woman. She was four months pregnant and it was really starting to show.
She paced around the room as Mariah asked, “Can Count Sproul prescribe something for him?”
“Everything he has given to your father up to this point has either not worked or made it worse,” Camelle answered.
“Do you think he should chance the Priestess of the Gods? I have heard stories that they can perform miracles,” Mariah said.
Seventeen year old Mariah Colbert looked very young and naive. She seemed to have been blessed with all the beauty her mother never received. She had a freckled face with light brown hair that bordered on blond. Mariah was tall and skinny, viewing the world through gray eyes.
“Never,” Camelle responded, “That black magic can stay in Fox Chapel. You shouldn’t even be speaking about things like that, young lady.”
“I was only trying to help, mother,” said a saddened Mariah.
“Oh I know. I am sorry, dear. It’s just if anything happens to your father, there is no telling what could happen to us,” Camelle softly told her.
“If anything should happen, Krys will take over as Duke of Mattingly and we will be safe with him, right?” Mariah always took a simplistic view of life.
“You just do not know what people can do when a powerful man dies. I do not think that will ever happen, but that is why we have to pray to the Gods for your father’s safety.” Camelle wrung her hands together to deal with the constant stress.
She was always worrying about her husband or one of her children and seemed perpetually tense.
Jon Colbert faded in and out of consciousness. He thought about how he would rather face all the nefarious barbarians of Histomanji than these damn head pains.
“Mother, will I ever get married?” Mariah questioned.
“You know what you father says, nobody marries until they are eighteen,” her mother responded.
“That’s what he said for the boys who had to go off to fight. I do not get to go anywhere because father and the King hate each other. I could never marry a boy like Ali-Ster Wamhoff.”
> Camelle’s eyes opened wide as she looked over at her husband. “Don’t you dare let your father hear you say things like that.”
“He cannot hear us all the way from here. Besides, I never get to do what I want,” pouted Mariah.
Jon Colbert slowly drifted off as the pain subsided. He woke up an hour and a half later to realize his headache was nearly gone. He got up to prepare himself for dinner.
BULLS CANNOT DEFEAT LIONS, CAN THEY?
RICEROS
“WOOF, WOOF!”
The big dog jerked his head around and sprinted away from Riceros Colbert. He usually didn’t go this far into the woods with only his dog, Jasper, for company. It stayed cool in the Riverfront woods even though the sun blazed above. Riceros quickly realized he had ventured into the area of the woods known as the Blood Tree Forest. The trees had a reddish hue on their trunks and branches that resembled blood. It was also the site for the dire battle of Riverfront two hundred and forty years ago when Ali-Sander Wamhoff had been pushed back by Goldenfield before defeating the enemy and doubling the size of Donegal. The bloody struggle had proved to be the turning point in the war. Most people around the castle thought the woods remained haunted by the ghosts of the war. Legend had it that the trees drank the blood of the fallen soldiers to obtain their color. Almost everyone avoided the woods but Riceros unknowingly followed his dog right into the Blood Tree Forest. He felt a chill on the back of his neck and started to get nervous.
Riceros clapped his hands to call his best friend. They had a special bond despite the fact that they were polar opposites. Riceros was an undersized eleven year old while his dog was enormous. Everyone who saw him considered Jasper, the biggest of his breed, King of the bulldogs. Jasper stood up to Riceros’ neck and could easily lick the boy’s face with his long, leathery tongue. Jon Colbert had given his son the dog as a present on his fifth birthday. Riceros promptly named him “Jasper” in honor of his grandfather.
TWO HEADS TWO SPIKES (The Pearl of Wisdom Saga) Page 2
