by Nathan Roden
Tilda fell to her knees.
“Please, my gracious Queen! I cannot beg your forgiveness, but I beg your mercy!”
Jaclyn looked disgusted. She grabbed Tilda by her hair and pulled her to her feet. She grabbed Tilda’s collar and pulled her face close.
“You acquired the taste for wine rather easily, did you not? And the King has access to the very best, wouldn’t you agree?”
Tilda continued to sob.
“Your Queen asked you a question!” Jaclyn snarled.
Tilda bobbed her head up and down.
“Y-y-yes! The best, My Queen!”
“Do not think for one second I blame you for this, Tilda. What handmaid would dare ignore the advances of the King? How could he help himself? He is, after all, Lord Sterling’s nephew! Who I am sure has had you as well!”
“If you would show me mercy, My Queen, I shall be forever in your debt! If you spare my life—”
“I am not going to have you killed, Tilda! But if you ever mention this day to anyone, including me, I will have your head displayed on our wall. Do you understand me?”
Tilda dropped to the ground again. She bowed down and kissed the ground at Jaclyn’s feet.
“Get up,” Jaclyn said. “Get dressed and get back to the castle. There is much to be done to prepare for tomorrow.”
Tilda jumped to her feet.
“Yes, My Queen! At once, My Queen!”
Sixteen
Tilda was gone quickly.
“Jaclyn,” Lucien said. “I did not mean to—”
“I do not care about your lusts or your trysts, Lucien. I do not need your attention.”
“And I do not need your love. What I need, is for you to be a proper father to our child. We face a difficult path—and I cannot prepare him for what lies ahead all by myself.”
“Ha!” Lucien said. He did not look at Jaclyn.
“You are never alone—in any task! You are the queen! You will have nursemaids, and handmaids, and servants of every kind—”
“I am talking about our child!” Jaclyn exclaimed.
She put her hand on Lucien’s arm.
“Our baby! Not a horse to be trained or a sword to be sharpened! He will be our little boy—our little man. He will look up to his father to teach him—”
Lucien snatched his arm away. He turned toward the door. He wanted to run. But his pride would not allow it.
“What makes you think I know the first thing about being a father?”
“You once knew nothing about being a King,” Jaclyn said. “But the people still bow their knees—”
Lucien barked another humorless laugh.
“They bow their knees to keep Sterling from chopping off their legs!”
“But in just two years—”
Lucien clamped his hands to his ears. He turned back toward Jaclyn. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.
“Stop it! Stop saying that! Do you think that I don’t know what happens in two years? Do you know that I lie awake thinking about the day when the law no longer gives him power?”
Lucien looked around, nervously.
“What power does the law hold over Sterling and those loyal to him?”
Lucien let go of Jaclyn.
“Sterling has used me—like a plow horse, or a mule. He has forced me to do his bidding, and the Kingdom has suffered—in my name! In two years’ time, I will no longer know where Sterling ends, and I begin.”
“But, the baby, Lucien—”
Lucien turned away again.
“You would do well to keep the child far away from me.”
Jaclyn began to cry.
“How can you say that? He is a part of you, Lucien—”
“My blood is poisoned!” Lucien was no longer able to control the volume of his voice.
“My MIND is poisoned! I was the seed of rage, and madness, and endless war! How would I know how to love anything? Or anyone?”
“You must try, Lucien. I can help you—”
Lucien was on the verge of rage. He grabbed handfuls of his hair. He bent over at the waist.
“Lucien? Are you all—?”
“Get away from me! I don’t love you! I don’t love your wench handmaid! I don’t love anyone!”
Lucien stood up slowly, breathing hard.
His blazing eyes met Jaclyn’s.
“You love the filthy dragon more than you love me.”
Jaclyn stopped crying. She held her breath and shuddered. Her lip trembled.
Lucien put on his shirt and stormed out of the stables.
Jaclyn steadied herself. The baby was in constant motion. She waited until Lucien had time to get back to the castle before she opened the door.
Immediately, she felt their eyes on her. There were several people in the courtyard. Too many.
Jaclyn pushed the heavy door open and turned to her left. A dozen quick paces later, and she passed through the south gate.
Two guards stood at that gate. One of them stepped toward her.
“My Queen, you mustn’t—”
Jaclyn turned around.
“The Queen must not what?” she snapped.
The guard had no answer.
Four young members of the army watched Jaclyn leave the stables and pass through the gate. Two of them ran after her.
“My Queen,” Oliver asked, breathlessly. “Where are you off to, this fine day?”
Jaclyn glared at the guard and kept walking toward the village.
“There is little fine about this day,” Jaclyn said. She stole a glance toward the other soldier who had stopped to talk to the guard at the gate. He hurried to catch up to them.
Jaclyn leaned toward her young escort and whispered.
“Remember. You do not know me, Oliver.”
“Of course not, My Queen. I am merely doing my duty.”
Jaclyn rounded a corner. She found herself in the midst of several children at play. There were some very young ones, being looked after by older children. They were all very thin, and dirty. Their clothes were ragged.
“Look!” one older boy pointed. “That’s the queen!”
“It is not!” another boy scoffed. “The queen does not just walk about in the streets!”
Six of the young boys were fascinated with the army uniforms.
“It’s amazing!”
“A real sword!”
“Can we see it?”
Oliver looked nervously at Jaclyn. She smiled back at him.
“Step back, boys,” Oliver said. “It is very sharp.”
The children crowded around to see the gleaming sword. Jaclyn felt something. She turned around and saw a very tiny girl tugging at her dress.
“Hello,” Jaclyn said.
“Do you have any food?” the girl asked.
Jaclyn’s heart stuck in her throat. She could not think of what to do. Or to say.
And then she remembered the celebration that would take place the very next day.
“Oliver,” she said without thinking.
Oliver’s head snapped up immediately. He saw the confusion on his fellow soldier’s face.
“Yes, my Queen.”
Jaclyn was horrified at her mistake. She turned to the other soldier.
“What is your name?”
“I beg your pardon, My Queen?” the young man said.
“Your name,” Jaclyn repeated.
“T-Timothy.”
Jaclyn turned her attention to the children.
“We will be right back. Please stay here.”
“Sometimes the castle guards come and chase us away,” one of the older boys said.
“They will not chase you away this day,” Jaclyn said.
“Says who?” another older boy said.
“Says your Queen!” Oliver said.
One boy shoved the other.
“I told you she was the Queen!”
Jaclyn held up her hands.
“Do not leave.” She turned and walked toward the castl
e.
Oliver and Timothy hurried to catch up to her.
“What are we doing?” Oliver asked.
“A good thing. For once.”
Seventeen
Jaclyn and the two soldiers reached the courtyard.
“We will need four more stout backs, two horses and wagons,” Jaclyn said. “Go. Quickly now.”
Jaclyn walked into the formal dining room. Servants scurried about between that room and the kitchen. The amount of food being prepared for the coming feast was incredible.
A breathless Oliver ran up behind Jaclyn.
“Everything you’ve asked for is on the way.”
“Thank you,” Jaclyn said.
Jaclyn stepped into the middle of the room. She clapped her hands loudly.
“Your attention, please, everyone!”
The frantic activity came to a stop.
“Two wagons are being brought to the courtyard door,” Jaclyn pointed. “I would like for you to fill them with the desserts that have been prepared. All the pies, the cakes, the tarts. If there is room remaining, we will fill that with something else.”
The servants looked confused. They stared at each other and did not know what to say.
“All the desserts?” an older chef finally asked aloud. “These dishes are for your name day celebration, my queen—”
A girl grabbed up two arm-loads of pies and started toward the door.
“Our queen has spoken her wishes clearly,” she said.
Tilda.
The others slowly followed Tilda’s lead.
One of the cooks, an older woman, rubbed her hands together, nervously.
“What about tomorrow? If Lord Sterling finds out—”
Jaclyn smiled. She raised her hands.
“Can you not make more? Are our cupboards bare?”
“No, my queen,” the woman said. This seemed to calm her.
Oliver stepped next to Jaclyn.
“We’re taking your name day feast and giving it to those children?”
Jaclyn smiled.
“There will be many more children there when we arrive. Trust me.”
Oliver cleared his throat. He shifted his feet and put his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Perhaps we should take more men with us, to be safe.”
“Will it put us in danger—feeding hungry children?” Jaclyn asked. “I am not afraid.”
“As you wish, my Queen.”
Jaclyn glared at the guards when they reached the gate. The guards turned aside and pretended not to see anything.
Jaclyn’s prediction was correct. There were more than fifty children around the corner from the south gate.
As Jaclyn and the eight soldiers passed out sweets to the children, the crowd continued to grow. More children came as well as some curious adults.
Oliver whispered something to three of his fellow soldiers. They spread out and glared at the adults and older boys who crowded in on the wagons.
Timothy grabbed one over-anxious man by the shoulder and pulled him away. He said something in the man’s ear while he pulled his sword half-way from its sheath.
The man nodded. He had just learned a valuable lesson. Jaclyn handed him a tart. The man turned and walked away.
The wagons were almost empty. Jaclyn and the others scanned the crowd to make sure there was not one hungry child who did not have something to eat.
“This is the best name day gift I could ever have,” Jaclyn said to Oliver.
A man in the crowd smiled. Blueberries stained his scruffy beard.
“Long live Queen Jaclyn!” he cried.
The others clapped and yelled their support.
“Perhaps Lord Sterling has found another dragon for your name day!” the man shouted.
“Aye!” another man shouted. “That would be excellent! To see another dead dragon on the floor of the arena!”
Jaclyn, hands shook. She dropped a cake to the ground, and several children pounced on it. Jaclyn’s thoughts drifted away from the joy of the moment, to the torment of seeing the pathetic dragon pierced by Lucien’s sword.
She saw the brilliant green eyes of her dragon friend—somewhere out there—hunted and despised.
And loved.
The baby pushed and kicked against her insides. She thought she might be sick. She put a hand to her mouth and began to cry.
“My Queen,” Oliver said. “Are you—?”
Jaclyn ran away.
Oliver looked at Timothy.
“Go with her.”
Oliver pushed his way through the crowd.
When he reached the men, he grabbed one by the collar.
“I should cut out your tongue and shove it down your throat!”
He pushed the man to the ground and hurried after Jaclyn.
The man looked up.
“What did I do?”
Jaclyn ran toward the gate, sobbing. All eight soldiers followed behind. Jaclyn saw the guards approaching. She squeezed her eyes shut and ran past the gate without slowing down.
The gate guards watched the queen run past. They were joined by Raynard and Sterling.
“It seems that the queen might have a new understanding of why there are walls around the castle,” Raynard said.
“Mongrel dogs will take meat from your hand, until the day that hand comes up empty,” Lord Sterling said.
“On that day, they will bite off your hand.”
Eighteen
Boone felt the road beneath the wagon smooth out. He peeked out through the wagon’s cover. He saw children at play.
When the procession traveled a little further, Boone slipped out of the back of the wagon. He stood on the outskirts of Morgenwraithe village.
He could see the guard towers. He ran into the woods and made his way slowly toward the village.
Boone made certain there was no one else around. He pulled his hood over his head, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked through the village gates.
Boone avoided the crowds. He stayed away from the other travelers, most of whom walked toward the market.
He peeked up from beneath his hood and saw a single guard in the eastern tower of Morgenwraithe castle. He put his head down and hurried along.
He did not see the girl running directly at him.
He heard her footfalls and heard her sobs all in the same instant. They noticed each other too late to avoid a collision.
The very last thing that caught Boone’s eye was the bump at the girl’s middle.
Boone tried his best to protect the girl. He threw his arms around her and made certain that he was the one to hit the ground first.
He almost blacked out when the impact knocked the breath out of him. The girl pushed herself up. A second later, the tips of two swords quivered at Boone’s throat.
Soldiers, Boone thought. I’m done for.
One of the soldiers dropped his sword and helped the girl to her feet.
“Shall I run him through or take him to the dungeon?” Oliver asked.
“No!” the girl cried. “It was my fault! I ran right into him!”
Oliver did not move his sword.
“Who are you? Where are you from?”
“I work aboard a merchant’s vessel,” Boone said.
Oliver pulled his sword away slowly.
“You should be more careful, especially within the city. You are fortunate that it was not Captain Raynard or Lord Sterling who saw you knock the queen to the ground.”
Boone stared wide-eyed at the girl.
“You’re…you’re her? You are the queen?” he looked at her tummy again. “Of course! Please tell me the baby is unharmed.”
“No, no. He’s fine. He’s a hardy fellow,” Jaclyn put her hand over the baby.
“Though I’m certain that he wishes that his mother would stay inside the castle.”
Boone continued to stare.
“You are as lovely as I had imagined.”
Oliver raised his sword again.
“I do not care where you are from! You are not to address the queen this way!”
“Put your sword away, Oliver,” Jaclyn said. “He is merely being kind.”
Boone ignored the soldiers—and their swords.
“As lovely as the slightest touch…in complete and total darkness.”
Jaclyn’s lip began to tremble.
Oliver was confused and nervous.
“What should we do with this—?”
Jaclyn continued to stare at Boone.
“I need a word with this stranger,” she said quietly.
“But, my queen—” Oliver objected.
“Leave us.”
Oliver swallowed hard, and then he and Timothy retreated down the road.
When Jaclyn was certain that the soldiers could not hear her, she covered her mouth with her hand. She whispered,
“Simon?”
For a moment Boone did not know what was happening.
“Sim—? Oh, no, no, no! I am not Simon!”
A single tear ran down Jaclyn’s cheek.
“You are…his friend?”
Boone found it impossible to speak. He nodded instead.
Jaclyn continued to cry, but there was not a hint of sadness in her eyes.
“Please tell me that he is well.”
“We fell under attack,” Boone said, keeping an eye on the soldiers. “By both Sterling and a wizard—”
“A giant,” Jaclyn said. “Hired by Sterling and brought here from across the sea. He has killed many dragons. But you escaped, yes?”
“I cannot be certain,” Boone said. “After we were attacked, I fell from Simon’s back. I believe they got away.”
“They? You said they—”
“Yes. Helena is much better at riding dragons than I am.”
Jaclyn grabbed Boone’s hands. This startled him and the soldiers as well.
“It is true! Helena is alive! She is with you!”
Boone nodded again.
