Dark King Rising

by Alledria Hurt

  One of the drummers stirred in his dreams. From her place on the floor, Marie froze. She didn't want them dragging her back to bed. She had things to do. Using the bed as a prop, she gathered herself up off the floor and this time her legs held. As she stood there, marveling at how weak she truly felt, the door opened and an old man entered carrying a basin. He saw her standing beside the bed and dropped to his knees, sloshing water as he did.

  "Princess," he said breathlessly. "You stand."

  "I stand," Marie said. He would obey her, wouldn't he; if he thought she was the princess? "From where do you come?"

  "I come to bring you cool clothes and some medicine to help your fever. You have been so long sick, your brother worries constantly. His own health begins to suffer."

  Worry? Why would a creature such as the Dark King worry? It must have been an act. These people couldn't possibly be falling for such a trick though, could they? Marie waved at him and shook her head.

  "I need no medicine. I wish to see my brother, now."

  "But Princess, it is quite late. He rests now."

  "I would see him now. You will fetch him for me."

  The conversation had awakened a harpist who looked on with curiosity tinged with fear. He pretended to pluck at the strings without making a sound. Marie pinned him down with her eyes. With a squeak, he strummed a cord then began to play a song. Sleepily, another joined in. Soft music drifted through the room.

  The old man knelt and waited.

  "I cannot break his rest. Can it not wait until morning?"

  Marie swayed on her feet. At her side, the bracelet sang. She looked down at it and thought she saw a flash of color go through one of the crystals.

  "I will wait," Marie said finally. The fatigue of standing after so long lying down caused her to ache. She eased back down onto the bed and the old man lifted her legs back up onto it.

  "Forgive me, Princess," he said as he covered her legs up. "You have been so long ill, you are wasting. It takes away from your beauty."

  Once more settled, Marie closed her eyes. The urgency of seeing her brother, the prince, the dark king, had subsided. She let herself drift into a multicolored dream with the warmth of a summer day. All around her, soft music cushioned her thinking and buoyed her spirits.

  When she woke again, the light of day tiptoed into the room. The sun must have been just above the horizon. It left shadows at the edges of the room away from the window. She lay in one such shadow. The musicians played a spritely tune when they realized she was awake. With her eyes open, she waited. Day had come. He would come. She had only to bide her time.

  "Sister," he called to her even as he entered the room. The old man from the night before followed in his wake. Marie tilted her head toward him.

  "You stood, I heard from the physician that you were standing," his excitement drew on her. Offered her something to hold onto.

  "I stood. I grow stronger," Marie said. He seemed so genuine. Her doubts increased. Who was he truly? "The fever is leaving me."

  "It cannot be, not while you still speak madness," he said. "Has the madness left you as well?"

  If she held to her choice, he would keep her confined to this bed. If she lied, perhaps she would be allowed out. She had to find Naomie, Kevin, and Ray. She had to find her family.

  "I feel much better."

  "And do you still believe I am evil?"

  "No, why would I think such a thing?"

  He clapped his hands.

  "She returns to us," he said. "Help her to grow stronger and we will have a feast in her honor in three days time. Once you are well enough to attend."

  Marie swallowed rather than speak. Three days time. She would not wait so long to be through with this place. All she had to do was find the others and they could all leave.

  "I would stand again and leave this room," she said to her brother. His concern coated his face. He looked at the physician at his side.

  "It can only speed her recovery to have her take some fresh air outside. Certainly no further than the royal garden would be fine."

  "If the physician says you may do so, then it will be so," the Prince said. "I will send someone to collect you and help you to the royal garden where you may rest in the cool of the fountains and take in the flowers."

  "Thank you," Marie said. "I will do so."

  "Come, physician. Let us leave her to her rest."

  They left her there with the musicians who played soothing music to ease her nerves. Undoubtedly, they ascribed to the idea that music therapy could make a person better. She had not been without a musician as long as she had been awake.

  An hour later, Marie awakened to a man standing at her bedside she knew immediately. Ray, in a brown tunic over flowing pants, gestured for her to come. Carefully, she tried to get out of the bed. He was there at her elbow when she faltered. Without a sound, he gathered her to him and they started off together. As they walked, she had the chance to look him over. He didn't appear to be hurt, but this was a fantasy world made up of her imagination. Why would she imagine him with injuries? She touched the side of his face and he stopped, startled, yet he did not stop her from doing it again.

  "Ray."

  He shook his head no. His brown eyes lingered on her, but then they shifted forward to where they were going. They traveled the broad hallways of the castle and were party to the breezes that blew through. Then they made it to the garden. Even from the entrance, she could hear the fountains as they bubbled. The heady scent of rich flowers clung heavy to the air. He helped ease her down the stairs to a tent erected in the center. The pavilion was crimson with gold edging, four long posts stuck into the ground to hold up the roof. Underneath it, someone scattered pillows. They were in a prime breeze location and the fountains truly did keep the area cooler than the surrounding garden.

  Her assistant lowered her onto a cushion and she sighed. Beauty existed all around her. One of the fountains had been carved in the fashion of a merman holding a conch shell to his lips.

  "Who made this?" she asked. Ray said nothing, only held his finger up to his lips. In silence, they sat there for several minutes before she said, "You can't talk can you?"

  With that he smiled and bowed low.

  "Right," she said. The Gravekeeper was silent, always had been. Why wouldn't he be now? Part of her wished for Ray's witty banter. He would have made this outing much more interesting by telling her stories and such about the flowers and fountains. Sitting in silence only appealed for so long. However, almost anything beat being stuck in one room. Now she knew where Ray was. If she could find Kevin, whom she had not seen, then perhaps she would be getting somewhere.

  "How long have I been sick?" An easy question to answer if one counted on their hands, which was precisely what Ray did. He held up six fingers. "Six weeks? Six months." One finger. "Six weeks." All right. So she had been ill for more than a month. Why did that matter? What had she been doing six weeks ago? The information faded from her memory. Whatever it was, it wasn't all that memorable or she would be able to recall.

  "And what about this world I remember so vividly?"

  He shook his head and made an expansive gesture.

  "I have all this, why do I need that, huh?"

  Again he smiled. Their communication moved along quite well.

  "But I remember being someone in that other place. Someone of importance. Though I suppose who could be more important than the princess?" The king, her mind answered immediately, conjuring up images of Sylvia being beaten to death by the very creature now holding a pleasant enough conversation with her. She shifted and took in a desert rose twirling up from its base, its star-shaped flowers deep red.

  Her mind went to the locked doors of the palace in the story. They were kept closed by desert roses that grew up from the floor, keeping her from entering. How could she pass them?

  A dull throb went through her head from front to back. Marie brought her hands to her face and massaged her forehead.

/>   Someone had thought to bring water out to the pavilion because a moment later, Ray knelt beside her with a cup in his hand, cool clear water in it. Marie took a sip and though her headache did not subside was grateful for it just the same. He pressed the cup to her lips until she waved him away.

  "Thank you," she said. He nodded placing the cup back on the tray where he'd retrieved it. She looked over at the earthen jug and its small clay cup and wondered who had put them out. Her thoughts turned on that for only a few moments before they were joined by the woman who wasn't Naomie.

  "Princess," she said. "How do you fare?"

  "I am better now."

  "So I have heard. Your brother crows loudly at your recovery." She sank down on a cushion facing Marie and flipped her hair to her back. "But I would sound you more thoroughly."

  "Why?"

  "Because madness so long can do strange things to mind. Have you truly forgiven him?"

  "Forgiven him what?" Marie cocked her head to one side. Did she know this part of the story?

  "He is the one who made the treaty which led to your illness. Sending you to live among the heathens. Surely you remember this?"

  "No, I have no memory of this," Marie said. It was true, this was a part of the story she didn't know. The Dark King and his sister were new to her now. "Why do you remind me of it if it paints my brother in a bad light?"

  "Because it was only after your stay among them that you began to call him evil and doubt his ways. Certainly those two things are linked. But if you do not remember one, then certainly you would not remember the other, now would you?"

  "I suppose not."

  "Khajir," the woman said addressing Ray. "May I have some water?" He fetched the cup for her and surrendered it into her hand. She sipped. "Ban, you have wasted so much? Are you sure you are well again?"

  "I have come from the fever and the madness intact," Marie said. That wasn't true, she still believed herself to be someone else. Ban was not her name nor would it ever be. She would see to that. "What is your name? I called you Naomie, but you said that was nothing but a figment. I must know your name?"

  "Of course, you do, but you have been so long caught up in fever, you've forgotten it. I am your brother's beloved, his queen to be once the kingship is settled on his shoulders. I am Saba."

  You are Naomie. You just don't remember. But I do, Marie thought. They had been friends for too long for her to mistake any such thing. She put her hand out for the water and Saba placed the cup in her hand. Marie sipped from it before passing it back.

  "And my brother? How is he? The physician said that his own health begins to suffer because mine does."

  "You and he have always been unnaturally close. When you were gone, he was beside himself. Then you returned, but were not yourself and it took an even greater toll on him. He blamed himself for your sickness. So he has barely eaten or cared for himself since. It is only by the aid of the minister that he has kept his hair managed and his body fed."

  "The minister?"

  "Yes, your brother's adviser. I see you have forgotten him as well."

  "It would seem I have."

  "Do not worry, all of this will return to you as you remain well. It is only a matter of a few names. Soon it will be as if nothing happened."

  "I can only hope so."

  "It will be so," Saba insisted. "I must go. It will be time for lunch soon. Shall I have them bring yours to you out here so that you are not forced to move so much?"

  "Yes, I think that would be for the best." She could get up and would, but going up the stairs again daunted her. Ascending out of the garden would take some doing on her unsteady legs. "Saba, tell my brother that I wish to see him."

  "I will. He will undoubtedly wish to drop everything to be by your side now that you are awake and not calling him awful things. He will be a great king one day."

  "Why is he not king now?"

  "He cannot be king while you remain among us. Only by marrying you off can he assume kingship and to do so hurts him."

  "I see."

  "Yes, I suppose you do." Saba turned her back on Marie and headed into the foliage near the steps. Marie leaned back on her cushion and let it support her. She had been sent away, but came back with a fever. Her brother could only become king if she was gone. Somehow this translated into the story she had been writing for years, but she couldn't quite figure out how. Whatever it was, she had to find Kevin. Naomie and Ray were found. She would only find Kevin if she went looking and that meant getting up off the cushions and moving around. Levering herself up, she tried to stand. Khajir jumped up from his seat and moved to help her but she waved him away. She would get up of her own accord. She needed to become independent again. Otherwise, she would never find her way out. On her feet, she managed to stand for a minute before the blackness ate at the edges of her vision. Marie tumbled when she blacked out.

  Moments later, she woke with Khajir pressing a cold compress to her forehead.

  "Uh."

  He gestured for her to be quiet. Her eyes rolled in her head. Her heart beat slow in her chest. Now somewhat awake, he shifted his arms under her and lifted her from the stones. Khajir carried her back into the palace. Marie leaned her head on his shoulder and tried to steady her vision. Everything appeared to be moving of its own accord. A servant met them in the hall and hurried away to tell others of what had happened.

  Once back in her room, Khajir laid her down on her bed. Then he resoaked the cloth to press to her forehead. They were alone as he began a sort of throaty humming. It sounded thick and a little harsh, but comforting. Beyond him, a harpist began to play. Then the room became a flurry of activity. The physician returned with the Prince in tow and Saba at his elbow.

  "What has happened here?" The question was directed at Khajir who bowed low and ducked away. Then the physician turned on Marie. "What happened?"

  "I, stand." She shook her head and buried her face in a pillow. The physician laid his cool hand on her neck.

  "I think she perhaps has overexerted herself, my lord. Perhaps the garden was too much."

  "Then she will have to remain here until she is better."

  "No," Marie said. "I am well enough."

  "No, you are not well enough," the prince said. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pressed his hand on her leg. "You must regain your strength. There will be time enough once you are strong again."

  Sullen, Marie fell silent. Saba pulled her hair gently.

  "You'll be strong in a few days. All you have to do is rest."

  Marie's eyes drifted shut to the soft caress. More and more things felt far away. The more she allowed herself to feel this place, the further from her that old life felt. Still she grasped hold of some things with everything she had. Her family was paramount. This man who claimed kinship was no one to her. She needed to get away from him and find the others.

  She opened her eyes and concentrated on Ray who stood silent nearby. Then her eyes shifted to Naomie so very near. But where was Kevin? Those words were with her as she drifted off to sleep. Where was Kevin?

  Marie woke to the image of herself kneeling before a mirror. Behind her, figures loomed drawing closer. Terror woke her with her thudding heart. She could feel every section of each beat separately boom.boom.boom.boom. Her hands clawed at the sheet over her body. Sitting up, she studied the room. A single musician sat awake playing his pipes for the nearly empty room. He did not increase his volume when he noted her movement, if he did. Shifting, she moved to the edge of the bed and stood up. Her legs buckled beneath her and the room swayed, but she remained on her feet. One step at a time, she moved across the floor toward the window that covered the far wall. It leaned open for her leading to the balcony. Soft steps brought her to the edge and she looked across the nighttime desert tinged silver in the moonlight. The moon flew high and far off. Marie reached out to it with one hand. Unsteadily, she rocked onto the balls of her feet then down onto her heels. Her hands encapsulated the stars ove
rhead between her fingers. One word ricocheted between her ears though she attached no significance to it.

  Kevin.

  The word sounded foreign to her.

  The bright stars beckoned her to fly, but the edge of the balcony was over a cliff, she was careful about getting so close. She murmured to the world.

  "Let me grow strong. He needs me."

  Two days later, she sat on the edge of her bed with the physician standing over her. He fingered along her spine searching for lumps. No deformity present.

  "Am I well?"

  "You appear to be quite well, Princess." They were alone in the room save for the musicians. "You recover quickly."

  "Thank you," Marie said. "I wish to be strong again."

  "And all the kingdom wishes such for you." He stroked his short white beard and stood off a step or two. "Your brother, the prince, has ordered a feast in your honor for tonight. It will be quite a spectacle. He has ordered players from the kingdom's edge to show for you because he knows you delight in such things."

  The idea of seeing a play did give her some pleasure and knowing he had gone to such things to please her also made her happy, though she had to wonder at what expense.

  "Do you know what they will play?"

  "Perhaps Rostam's quests. I do not know, child. Certainly it will be something of great significance."

  Rostam's quests would include a dragon, quite a sight. Marie smiled at the idea.

  "The feast will begin at sunset. You should rest until then. It will be quite a night."

  Khajir entered as the physician left and bowed to her. She gestured for him to come forward. Once he was close enough, she put out her hand and stood as he took it. Her motion was a little unsteady, but she stood against him.

  "Thank you. I would go to the garden."

  A look of concern crossed his face, but he did nothing in way of protest. Instead, he led the way through the halls and she walked slowly. Out in the garden under the pavilion, they sat together in quiet. Saba did not join them, but a servant brought out a dish of fruit for them as the day wore on.