by H. R. Rekow
Many bodies and abandoned weapons lay on the ground between blood-smeared grass. The wounded cried in pain, their hands grasping the lesions and gashes, covered in their own blood with their comrades kneeling to help. The injured wild men left behind were swiftly dealt with. The wood was quiet once again. The only sounds were the gasping breaths of the men-at-arms and the thud of hearts. Theron’s bunched muscles relaxed, and he lowered his dripping blade.
“Theron . . .” Olivia whispered as tears poured down her ashen face. He drew her closer. “I thought . . . I—”
“Shhh . . . don’t talk now.” Theron hushed her.
Olivia’s bottom lip trembled. “Have they left? Are you certain?”
“Yes.” Theron looked to the road. “We’re safe for the moment; the enemy has disappeared into the wood.”
Olivia closed her eyes and her body collapsed. Theron grunted as he caught her. He picked her up and carried her out of the trees, avoiding the grabbing branches as best he could. As they emerged, a squire half drew his bow, but stopped once he recognized them. The prince gave him a wary look, and the boy ducked away.
Theron stepped over a body and past hacked remains to an open spot amid the ruins of battle. He lowered himself and Olivia onto Savior’s Way, her head leaning against his chest. Cedany crawled out from under the wagon and pulled Krea out behind her. She fetched her lady water and knelt at her side as Krea went to Elshender and began to bandage his clawed shoulder between sniffles. She kept looking up to the sky, the men, and the treetops, but never down to the death and blood at her feet.
Theron leaned down and kissed Olivia’s head. He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent. Thank You, he said to The Wizard. He heaved a deep sigh. Thank You. He stood and glanced at Cedany. “Watch her.”
“I knew you would come.”
Theron looked down and found Olivia watching him. Theron swallowed and turned away, unable to speak. He managed a nod and motioned to Elshender before he said something foolish. “We must continue on,” he said and cleared his throat. “We are almost out of Wraith’s Hollow.”
“Thank the Powers,” Olivia whispered and closed her eyes.
Theron’s brows creased as he glanced at her, but he said nothing. Countess Primis rushed to Olivia and looked down at her, heaving a sigh and laying a hand over her chest. Her perfect hair was now in wild strands, and her green kirtle was stained by mud and someone’s blood.
“I’m quite all right,” Olivia whispered.
“Well, I can see that,” Primis said. She turned to Earl Quinn as he cleaned his sword, his brow lined by a grazed blow. “She is fine!” she called and turned to Theron. “I am glad she is well, my prince. Aren’t you?”
Theron glanced at her, yet did not respond.
“What a horrid thing if the poor child died! You would have to find another wife and terminate our contract, now wouldn’t you?”
The prince lifted his chin and faced her. “I have no intentions of cheating you out of our agreement,” he said. “She is safe because I went after her—”
“Why were you not by her side in the first place, my prince?” Countess Primis’s eyes pierced through his shield. “One would think you dislike our arrangement.”
“I approve of our agreement and contract,” he said through gritted teeth. “You have no reason to question my loyalty.”
Countess Primis bowed low and stepped back. “Very well, my prince.” She turned and joined Earl Quinn without another word or look to Olivia.
Theron’s fists clenched as he shook his head. He turned to Elshender, his eyes darkened by fury. “Where is Olivia’s bodyguard? Where were you? I ordered you to watch them!” With a hushed gasp, Krea drew back and wiped her tears.
Elshender looked at his prince, and then away. “The bodyguard’s dead, and a werewolf stopped me.”
Theron lifted his chin as his eyes narrowed.
Sobriina approached, her blood-tipped swords still drawn, and a few cuts slashed across her shoulders and side. “Is my lady safely held?” the she-elf asked, oblivious to the men’s tension.
Elshender stooped to a knee and lowered his head. “Forgive me, my lord.”
Theron’s icy gaze did not waver.
Sobriina stopped and bit her tongue.
“Do not punish him, my lord,” Olivia whispered. “He . . . he is a honorable man.”
Theron gritted his teeth, then sighed and looked away. “Arise.” He ran his fingers through his hair and stepped back. Elshender stood and bowed to the couple, looking to Theron as his eyes asked for pardon. Theron nodded ever so slightly, and his right-hand man turned to attend to the knights and squires.
“Where is my Nan?” Olivia whispered.
Cedany and Sobriina exchanged looks, their shoulders drooping. “My lady.” Sobriina laid a hand on her shoulder. “She is at peace and well in the Land of Eternal Day. I am deeply sorry.”
Theron looked at Olivia and pursed his mouth shut. He stepped back, for he knew that if he tried to soothe her grief, it would only make things worse.
Olivia’s brow creased as she looked Sobriina in the eyes, and turned her gloomy gaze upward. She nodded. “Very well . . .”
Theron’s head cocked to one side and he looked away. Did she hear Sobriina right? Nan was dead; he had thought Olivia viewed her as a mother. With a shrug, he cleared his throat. It’s her own way of mourning, he concluded and turned his attention to his men.
✽✽✽
Savior’s Way continued on and on as though without end. Theron stared ahead, his hand on his sword and eyes out the window of the wagon. No one moved as tree after tree passed by. The moans of wounded men rose up now and then, followed by hushes from their comrades. Sweat glistened from the horses’ necks as their wide black eyes stared every which way.
A muffled sound drifted from the distance, and all looked ahead in silence. It was a rhythmic noise that piped up loud then soft. It was joined by others as they rounded a bend. Theron stared on, and his eyes narrowed. What was that sound? He had heard it before, long ago, it seemed.
“Birds . . .” Sobriina whispered. He glanced to the Lunaris and found a smile beaming across her face. “The songs of birds.”
Theron’s hold of his sword relaxed. The trees of Wraith’s Hollow lessened, and finally gave way to light. Bit by bit, rays of sunshine fought through the underbrush and cast golden pools on Savior’s Way. A wave of excitement filled the weary travelers as the world beyond came into view.
The Hilled Country opened up before them. The rolling land’s birds soared through the air in wide arcs. Shadows yielded to miles and miles of open green land that met the blue sky with a gentle touch. Creamy clouds wafted overhead, although those to the west billowed gray and promised rain. Crickets chirped from the waves of grass, and quail called to one another as they sprang from their ground nests.
Theron heard Olivia sigh beside him. He looked to her as her body relaxed, and she sank back against the wagon’s cushion. She half closed her eyes, and a smile pulled at her rosy lips. Theron leaned back as well, but did not let go of his sword.
The servants smiled and whispered their relief to one another. The knights nudged their squires and said they had done well in the dark wood. The few wounded, who lay on makeshift cots dragged behind the horses, relaxed and closed their eyes now that they could truly rest. Countess Primis smiled to herself, and Earl Quinn sat in silence, his eyes directed ahead. Even the horses lifted their heads and turned their ears forward.
“We shall arrive at Henricien in due time,” Duke Aldret said as he and the others of nobility sat in the carriage. No one responded, and Olivia rested against Theron. Sobriina mended a gash in her forearm, and tried not to flinch as she wiped the blood away.
Olivia turned in her seat and looked out the window back to Wraith’s Hollow. Her brow was wrinkled and her eyes downcast. She swallowed hard.
“Are you all right?” Theron asked.
“Oh!” Olivia flinched, then smiled. “
Quite . . . I’m fine.”
Theron’s eyes narrowed, though he smiled and rubbed her hand.
“We are all overjoyed for your well-being, my lady.” Sobriina grinned and nodded. “We must not let our eyes look back. And as for Nan . . .” Olivia looked down and sighed. “That motherly elder is well and alive in The Land of Eternal Day. Nay, let us fix our eyes on you and your love. The union is close at hand.”
“Yes,” Olivia said and ducked her head. She smiled. Theron studied her complexion. He wondered if it was a real smile.
✽✽✽
Henricien was the most populated city in Tulaun. The city was atop the southernmost edge of Blue Ridge, the mountainside that jutted from the northeastern borders toward the Hilled Country. The city itself sat on Riget Peak, and the cliff was crowned with leafy trees, moss, and flowers. The high wall of the mountain guarded the eastern city walls and kept attackers at bay.
The Cut, a great mountain river, flowed from the peaks, cut through rock and land, and curved down through the heart of the city. A great cliff, Sky Crag, guarded the western wall of Henricien, and The Cut flowed off its jagged end. It fell from Sky Crag and plummeted down like the thunder of horses. The waterfall, named Great Wonder, was the most powerful waterfall in that half of the world.
The city walls loomed high above every traveler, the time-worn stone face firm against the centuries. Solid battlements loomed on every turn, and archers leaned over the side, eyes peeled and arrows on their strings. Over the edge of the wall, the towered heights of the royal castle could be seen.
The sheer road which led to Henricien was watched by men-at-arms on horseback. Centaurs guarded alongside them; their half-horse, half-man bodies rippled with each stride. The road, Harnd’s Way, named after the great king who built it, was customarily filled with travelers. Today, however, people stood to either side of the road with flowers and colored cloths in their hands. The road was lined with flags upon high poles, the red fabrics billowing in the breeze. All waited for the betrothed couple’s arrival.
Lady Olivia looked out the window with a smile that shimmered. After days of traveling across the Hilled Country, Tulaun’s endless rolling grasslands, she was ecstatic to at last see Blue Ridge and Henricien towering gates. Olivia faced Harnd’s Way and eyed each commoner who had come in hopes of seeing her. A cheer lifted from the mass and they waved their cloths and flowers. Olivia laughed. “This is quite spectacular!”
“They’re all here for you,” Theron said with a grin.
As they entered the city, bells rang from the highest towers and proclaimed that the prince and their future queen had come home. The day-to-day activities had stopped, and the people lined the streets, longing to catch a glimpse of their prince’s bride. Children and dogs danced before the caravan as they laughed and shouted to one another. The young women threw flower petals down upon the street, and many began to play the flute or fiddle. As the wagon continued, Theron heard shouts of praise from the onlookers.
“Long live the queen!”
“Long life for the two!”
“Blessings! Blessings of love and loyalty!”
“The Wizard be near!”
Olivia smiled at the many people assembled to see her. “They are wonderful!” she cried with a look to Theron. He grinned and glanced out his own window. By the time they reached Beating Heart, the royal castle at the center of Henricien, the entire city was in the streets with shouts, dancing, laughter, music, and rejoicing. The iron gates to Beating Heart opened, and the caravan entered its courtyard. The common people stood outside, though their cheers did not lessen.
The carriages stopped and everyone stepped out with stiff legs. The horses looked around, though their heads were lowered in relief, knowing they were home at last. The wounded laughed, some cried, and the castle’s servants rushed to their aid.
Earl Quinn offered a hand to Countess Primis, but she brushed it away and stepped out on her own. He shot her a cold look and walked on without her. Theron helped Sobriina out of the carriage, then Olivia. He watched as she looked around, mouth open in awe.
“Welcome,” he said, “to your new home.” Most of the Outer Courtyard’s mud had been dragged away, and the stone buildings had been washed. Horse stalls lined the wall and fresh, red banners had been hung down the highest towers.
A host of the most valiant knights, their weapons and armor polished, stood on either side of the entrance. A crowd of royal men, women, and a few creatures waited for the couple’s arrival. There were lords and ladies, advisors, generals, and Seers, each dressed in fine robes of grays and blues, with reds or greens wound into belts of silver and leather. Veils drifted behind the women as each eyed Lady Olivia and whispered among themselves.
In the midst of the throng were two figures, each robed in purple and gold. Crowns encircled their snowy white heads. The couple was none other than King Matthias and Queen Ellis. Hard lines curved along these two faces, though their heads were raised and eyes were directed to the queen-to-be. A grin blossomed on Queen Ellis’s face and King Matthias’s eyes smiled, though his mouth did not. The gathering greeted them with faces aglow as servant boys blew trumpets.
“Welcome home!”
“Prince! Our prince has come!”
“How was the journey?”
“Wraith’s Hollow; oh, that dreadful place! What was it like?”
“Welcome a thousand times!”
“Life was not the same without you, Prince Theron!”
It was a tremendous welcome, indeed.
Theron glanced at his father and the old man looked his way, their eyes meeting for a brief moment. Theron turned away and cleared his throat as he held his arm to Olivia. What if he did not approve of Olivia? What if she was not queenly enough? He shook his head; it did not matter. Olivia mattered. And how was she? Afraid, no doubt. Terrified to meet her nation’s king and queen . . .
His eyes widened. Olivia looked at the royal two, smiled, and lifted her chin high. Theron blinked as he watched her. Countess Primis grinned and whispered to Earl Quinn. He nodded and eyed Olivia. Theron and Olivia walked through the throng toward his parents, Olivia’s back straight and eyes alive. The cheers stilled as they reached them.
“My son,” Queen Ellis said and she walked toward him.
Theron dropped to one knee, took her hand, and kissed it. “Hello, Mother. It’s nice to be home.” Ellis smiled and smoothed her boy’s hair. King Matthias listened, but did not move toward his son.
“Oh . . . how I have missed you!” The queen helped him to his feet and kissed his cheek. Theron glanced at his father; the king sniffed and lifted his chin. Theron’s eyes darted away and he cleared his throat once more. Queen Ellis stepped back and turned to Olivia. “And who is this rare find, my son?” Olivia beamed as the two came together and took hands.
“This, Mother, is Lady Olivia.”
“Charming child—”
“I see why you favor her, boy,” King Matthias said. Theron looked to him; a muscle in his jaw flexed. “She is pleasant on the eyes. . . .” The king stroked his white beard with a playful grin. Olivia glanced at him, and her smile wavered.
“My lord!” Queen Ellis whispered.
Theron grunted and stepped forward. “Father, she is a lady.” His hands, though held behind him, balled into fists. “She will be treated as such.”
King Matthias turned and faced his son. Their eyes locked. “Oh, look at that!” King Matthias jabbed a finger into Theron’s chest. “What a valiant man of honor! Protecting his possessions! And what is your response to this . . . this loyalty, my girl?”
Olivia glanced at Theron, her eyes smiling still, and looked back at the king. “That I shall repay the favor in full, my king.”
The women stayed quiet as the men held each other’s gaze. A hushed murmur rippled through the gathered crowd; it was not the first time the king and prince had challenged each other. Theron grimaced and looked away. Matthias held his head high and pulled his eyes
from his son. He turned to Olivia and took her hands with his ringed fingers. “Ah, you shall be a fine daughter. I know my grandsons will be strong and bold, coming from you. No thanks to this son of mine . . .”
Theron’s nostrils flared as Matthias kissed Olivia’s hand. The old man stepped back and turned to Beating Heart’s entrance. “Come.” He walked toward the castle and the crowd followed. Theron gave him a cold sideways glance as he passed.
Queen Ellis took her son’s arm and drew close to him. “Do not let him hinder this happy time,” she whispered and stroked his arm. “He’s just an old and tired man.”
Theron gritted his teeth; his father had always acted like this. Had he always been old and tired? Is that what it was to be king? He shook his head and tried to turn his mind to different matters.
Olivia grabbed his other arm, and Theron escorted his mother and fiancée up the stone steps to Beating Heart. The assembly made their way with murmurs and pattering feet. The queen stroked Theron’s arm and turned to Duke Aldret, who walked behind them. “How was the trek, old friend?”
“What a dreary question.” King Matthias glanced back at his wife, though she ignored him. “You are aware they were attacked.”
“Eventful, my queen,” Duke Aldret answered plainly.
“And your men?” Queen Ellis looked to Theron. “Casualties?”
Theron nodded. “Three dead, seven wounded—”
“Numbers too low to speak of.” King Matthias stroked his beard.
Theron shot him a cold look. But they are my men, he thought, though he held his tongue.
“And you, my dear?” Queen Ellis touched Olivia’s hand. “How are you after such a trying time?”
Olivia turned away, eyes swelling with grief, as she gulped before replying. “A maid.” Her voice was hushed. “She was dear to me . . .”
Matthias’s eyes narrowed as he looked back at Olivia. “What is she muttering about?” Theron glared at him.
“I lost a maid.” Olivia shook her head as she blinked back tears. “Her body was never discovered.”
