That was it, my poor stomach could take no more, and it unleashed its contents sloppily behind the rock I was sitting on. I sat there stupefied for what must have been minutes. Staggering back up, I walked over to Somnus and remounted with some effort, a sour bile taste in my mouth.
“Winya, I expect you will hold true to the vow you made me when I created you–you are to protect your Queen for all time.” I faltered for a bit, choking on the words. “Protect her as I would.”
“I understand, Alex. You forever have my word,” Winya whispered over the link.
With that, I gave Somnus a gentle nudge and we hit the darkness at a full run. A few hundred yards down the road, I felt the link to Winya extinguish and I was alone with my dark, bitter thoughts.
..................................................
Maya
It was early morning before my head cleared enough for me to resign myself to the realization that I was, except for Winya, now alone in this world. The events of the past few days were now just a pain-filled blur; the fight to lift the siege of the capital, finding out Alex already knew my parents and the joyous homecoming where I was welcomed back into the arms of my parents and kin–a bond which is so important to dark elves that most of us cannot bear to be away from our forest for very long. I had been away for over seven years, and all those years of isolation were lifted from me like a heavy iron chain in my consciousness.
But today’s savage reality was that my parents are dead and their bodies stolen and in the hands of a cursed necromancer. To further drive home my despair was the certain knowledge that I had driven the man I love from my side for political expediency. The needs of the universe versus the needs of the woman were becoming unfair and disjointed. The strings controlling the marionette that I had become were sharp. They seemed to draw blood at every twist of the puppeteer’s operating cross. I would hang my head and cry but there were no more tears to be had.
The night, from the point where I last saw Alex, was a nightmare. The ruling council proclaimed me Queen, and before I could even say word to anyone, I was spirited away by horse-drawn coach under heavy guard. A few minutes later, I found myself here; a virtual prisoner in the secure underground complex the dark elf council appropriately calls ‘the gallows.’ Not even given the luxury of a few hours to grieve, I was immediately rushed into a smoky, heavily-guarded meeting room. There, the council members who were previously loyal to my father’s position were in a panic, demanding reassurance that they would not be hung out to dry when my reign as Queen inevitably failed.
To them, I was still ‘Faeron’s crazy daughter’ who most of them had heard rumors about but had never seen. My contributions to the lifting of the siege were not widely known, and here I show up out of the blue, on the arm of a human-looking foreign prince. Less than two days later, my parents, the King and Queen, are dead; and I step in to rule in their stead. Yeah, I suppose that would raise some eyebrows.
What followed were hours of intense grilling and briefings, most of which didn’t sink in, but I did retain the high points.
One–the coalition that my father held together primarily by strength of will was precarious; three of the strongest clans still claimed allegiance directly to the Duke. A startling number of other clans were fence sitters and just as apt to jump from one side to the other. I could perhaps count on the full support of four to five clans at best.
Two–after me, the next three individuals in line for ascension to the kingship were all from the three renegade clans. So upon my death, one of them would take the crown. I could tell many of my councilors strongly believed this would be sooner rather than later, a practical inevitability.
Three–I had no mandate from the people. They didn’t know me, and the rumors floating around the city were not favorable. In other words, the general populace wouldn’t care if I lived or died. It also meant that the investigation into my parents’ assassination would probably be stonewalled. I heard a preliminary report from Ollis that the guard force was certain that the three clans were responsible for the attack on my parents. But no one was going to dig very deep, especially if that would lead to pissing off what could very soon be the next King.
Four–I could trust no one. Dark elves invented the phrase ‘cutthroat politics’ and a weak Queen was blood in the water to a shark. I could expect daily challenges to my rule and outright assassination was also a real possibility. Thankfully, Alex sent me the twins before he left.
Periodically, as the hours ground on, I was aware that Winya was trying to talk to me; but I had to force myself to ignore her and learn as much from the council members as I could in the short time I had.
Finally, my grandfather showed up, wearing his fire wizard robes; and mainly through force of will, got me a short break. The short break consisted of me sitting at a simple wooden table in what was probably a holding cell, a plate of tasteless food and a cup of water in front of me. The room had cut stone walls and a single heavy door with a peep sight; a few lengths of ratty carpet and some glow orb sconces had been hastily added to dress it up.
Just inside the door was my handmaiden, Dusk, standing unnaturally still. I kept glancing over at her, as my peripheral vision informed me something wasn’t right. Of course, I am used to seeing the dragons appearing as late teenage to early twenties human girls. But now they both took on the appearance of dark elf girls approximately my age. Since appearing at the chambers, led in by footmen, both dragons had been all business. There was none of the usual teasing and banter being exchanged. Right now, Dusk was so still I couldn’t even detect her eyes blinking; it was like she was a frozen statue. I knew that outside the door her sister, Dawn, stood at her post similarly–it was eerie.
Ollis informed me that there had been some trouble outside when the dark elf contingent of guardsmen in charge of the Gallows weren’t going to allow Dawn and Dusk to see me. But apparently 35-foot-long reptiles with five-inch incisors have some serious persuasion skills when they need to, even in human form.
I pushed the tray of uneaten food away from me and took a sip of water, then cradled my head in my hands trying to force my tumultuous insides to match my calm exterior. I sighed, dreading this conversation.
“So, Winya, Alex is really gone?”
“Yes, my Queen, the last I sensed him, he was riding hard. He was out of range quickly, thereafter,” Winya responded lifelessly.
“Where was he headed?”
“He didn’t say, my Queen.”
“Winya, what is with this ‘my Queen’ formality? We’ve always been Maya and Winya to each other.”
“I am your servant, my Queen; to address you by your given name would be unseemly.”
“Winya! You’re not a servant, you’re my best friend! And I need every friend I have right now.”
“I would never presume upon our friendship, my Queen; especially since your new office dictates the friends you keep and the ones you throw away.”
Crap, now on top of all my other problems, I have a resentful sword, too. I tried to warm my thoughts before I responded. “So that’s what’s bothering you? That I had to send Alex away? Winya, you know why I did it and that I had no choice!”
I was unprepared for the white hot anger and the wave of sheer emotion that hit me next along with her words that cut like a fish-gutting knife.
“You hurt him, Maya! You hurt him badly, probably worse than anything the demon did to him. And you wouldn’t even say goodbye.” She paused as if reliving it all. “You left me to try to explain it to him, and I’m sure I just ended up hurting him more.”
A sudden insight and revelation rolled over me like an avalanche; and unbidden, tears began to roll down my face. “Winya, you love him!”
“He is my creator; of course I feel gratitude toward him,” she said woodenly.
“No, you love him as I do.”
There was a long pause before my friend responded, her voice in my head low and trembling.
“Yes
…forgive me, but yes, I do. But Maya, I gave up my chance for love and happiness four hundred years ago when I took my own life. All in the name of duty, honor, and vengeance. Please don’t travel the same road and make the same mistakes I did. If I could protect you from only one thing, it would be that.”
Rocked, I sat back in my chair. Oddly, I didn’t feel any jealousy as a result of her words, just sorrow for the racking pain that my friend carried every day. Unconsciously, I gently stroked the bracelet that held her spirit.
“Winya, we will get through this. We will track down my parents’ killers, we will find the piece of the keystone; and more importantly, we will find Alex and make this all right again, I promise!” I could feel an uncertain glimmer of warmth in response from Winya; and from somewhere deep down in the farthest reaches of my consciousness, I heard the throaty roar of a predatory jungle feline in agreement. “So are we good then; can you forgive me?”
“You know I can’t stay mad at you, I’m part of you. I just hope Alex is as easy as I am.”
I stifled a snarky comeback and considered the point. Alex could be stubborn, clueless, and occasionally childish–pretty much like any man. But his heart was huge, and our connection so deep that I knew we would weather this storm. At least, that is the frail branch I clung to as the raging torrent that was now my life and destiny threatened to sweep me away.
Winya sniffed experimentally within the confines of my mind and questioned, “Hey, Maya, when did we get a cat?”
There was a soft knock on the door. When it swung open, a very grave-looking Ollis removed his helmet and stuck his head through. “Pardon the intrusion, my Queen, but your presence is requested in the main arena chambers. Apparently, some of the clan representatives have some…questions.”
“Thank you, Ollis.”
“It has been my pleasure to guard you, my Queen. I owe that much to the late King and to Sir Alex,” he said stiffly.
“You have always been a loyal friend to my family, Ollis; thank you again. Also, I appreciate your taking in Lin and Julia temporarily.”
Ollis brightened. “It’s no problem at all. Ryliss already thinks of them as sisters.” But then his face clouded over again. “My Lady, if anything should happen, I will keep them safe and see that they get back to Sky Raven; you have my word.”
I nodded and left the room. The twins fell in silently behind me, along with the twenty or so handpicked guards that Ollis had arrived with. It was a short wordless walk through the dungeon of this place–more cut stone and evenly spaced glow orb sconces. Finally, we came to a large set of round-topped wrought iron-reinforced oak doors; and before they were even opened, we could hear the crowd on the other side.
The subterranean arena area was a large sunken oval of fresh sand. Rising in concentric circles around the sand were seating areas of low benches. In the center of the first ring was a small box for royalty judging by the ornate decorations that hung over it. There were at least five risers of rings towering above the main floor. As the doors fully opened and all of our procession entered, the din quieted somewhat as all eyes were on us. There didn’t appear to be an empty seat in the entire arena. Here and there sat council members in their fine black robes; but most of the group in attendance seemed to be clan leaders, wives, sons, daughters, and many armored warriors.
Ollis guided me quickly to the royal box. Surrounding us were a number of the council members that I recognized from my briefings earlier that evening. I chuckled soundlessly as I noted that most of them looked as pale as any human in the glow of the lights strung across the ceiling.
Seated alone and feeling vulnerable in the long ornate black dress that I had been given to wear, I waited and watched. Picking out the three opposition clans was easy; they were all formed up in a tight bunch directly across the arena from me, all looking daggers in my direction. Coincidently, their group also had the highest number of heavily armored and armed warriors in the arena.
Finally, the head council member, the same one who had proclaimed me Queen hours before, stood up and made a speech. I couldn’t really tell you what he said as I was concentrating on watching the crowd. Winya was on high alert on my wrist, and I could feel both dragons pressed tightly behind my large chair.
Suddenly, the murmuring of the crowd increased, interrupting the speaker, as a noble in lavishly ornate armor and a sword on his belt leaped over the rail and dropped onto the sand floor. The speaker abruptly and nervously completed his words and sat down to watch what was going to happen along with everyone else.
The warrior strode arrogantly across the sand until he came to a point directly in front of me; he had his silver hair back in a warrior’s plaited braid. A beaked nose and hard eyes pointed to him being an unpleasant individual at best. He looked me over with some derision, pausing to grin back over at his entourage and play to the crowd. Fixing his hardest gaze on me, he raised his voice and the arena fell quiet.
“I am Siorian Kedareign, Scion of the Dorin Hall clan, and I have over 200 kills to my name!” he bellowed. “What I see before me is no Queen! A marginally adequate evening’s bedding perhaps, but no Queen! Tell me, O Great Queen, will you or will you not continue to follow the same path to destruction that your drooling idiot of a sire insisted we take? Will you continue to defy the will of the greatest force on this planet, Duke Pharmon?”
I stood up and stared him down. “Yes, I will follow the wisdom of my father, King Talmin, and the path that leads our proud people out from under the heel of the foul necromancer!”
He laughed and pulled his sword, waving it in the air and snarling, “Then I challenge you! The winner will choose the path we take!” The crowd immediately started buzzing loudly in excitement. Politics in dark elf society is very much a blood sport, and there were already bets being taken in the upper levels.
Before I could say anything, two more warriors dropped onto the sand floor, each outfitted like Siorian in ornate plate and heavy chain armor. One held a sword and the other a small one-handed battle axe. As a pair, they raised their voices to the group.
“Not so fast, Siorian Kedareign! We have as much right to challenge this pathetic Queen whelp as you do, and we will not be denied our opportunity to serve Lifebane as King!”
The three of them rounded on each other, squabbling and thumping their chests in front of the crowd, and making complete asses of themselves. Ollis leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “These bloated toads are the scions of the three clans that oppose you, my Lady.”
“Scions?” I whispered.
“Yes, the oldest male children of their generation. They are all next in line for clan leadership when their sires die,” he supplied helpfully.
“Excellent! Thank you, Ollis.” He gave me a strange, puzzled look but returned to his seat.
I could use a way to work off some stress. Willing Winya into her dagger form, I hastily chopped away most of the long dress I was wearing, and kicked off my shoes, then leaped over the rail, landing lightly in the sand below. The three warriors in the center of the arena were still arguing lustily, but when the rest of the crowd suddenly grew stone quiet, finally even they noticed.
“No need to argue over me, gentlemen,” I called out as loudly as I could.
“Mistress, you aren’t wearing your armor!” Dawn pointed out.
“Don’t need it for this,” I said, as the dagger in my hand elongated and changed into the white and silver long sword that I moved lazily back and forth in a looping pattern. The crowd was still flummoxed, but the three warriors finally turned to face me and smiled. Siorian took a step forward and sneered.
“You really are a crazy bitch like everyone says, aren’t you? Too bad, you would have looked better in that outfit in my bed than face down on the arena floor bleeding your guts out.” He extended his sword and the other two warriors spread out to either side and advanced.
Winya chuckled in my thoughts, seeing what I was seeing. None of them bothered to put on their helmets, e
xpecting this to be easy sport. Each was more worried about which one of them was going to get credit for the kill than if I was a threat. So I was facing three individuals instead of a coordinated attack; I smiled sweetly and faced my attackers. They were far more concerned about each other than a mere girl with a white sword. Elbow back, I dipped Winya down for just a fraction of a second, muscles winding like a clock spring and then snapped into action.
The first two warriors lost their overconfident heads – literally–in the first twenty seconds. My trainees back in Xarparion were more of a challenge, and I’m pretty sure Winya was putting a little extra into her blade as nothing was stopping her. She slid through sword, axe, and armor plate like they didn’t exist. Their steel-encased carcasses spun uncontrolled to the sandy soil less than ten feet from each other.
That left me only Siorian, who was dumfounded as he watched the hot blood geyser from the bodies of his fellow warriors. Snapping out of it wild-eyed, he noted the plate steel that had been sliced through like cottage cheese, then his eyes grew panicked and he ran. His heavy armor, which looked more for show than utility, hampered him greatly–once, twice, three complete revolutions around the arena. He stopped briefly in front of the spot where his fellow clansmen were seated, screaming at them to pull him up into the stands. But each time, I closed on him before he could gain assistance and Siorian was forced to retreat. It was actually embarrassing that I had to chase him around the ring the way I did.
A little slip of a girl, barefoot, in a ragged short skirt, running after a fully-armored adult dark elf; I could hear the crowd come back to life and boos began to rain down on the Scion of Dorin Hall. Finally, I cornered him–in a manner of speaking–as he tripped over one of the bodies and didn’t scamper up fast enough to get away.
Placing Winya’s blade between his legs, I backed him up to the nearest wall, thankfully on the other side of the floor from his supporters. He had already thrown away his weapon in his blind haste to try to scale the walls to escape. Shaking my head in disgust, I wondered how many of his alleged two hundred kills had been unarmed farmers, or even women and children. This was not the standard of the fierce dark elf warrior that I had grown up respecting; this was a sad disgrace, and I wondered just how far we had fallen as a people. Snapping out of my reverie, I watched his eyes glaze over as Winya casually split him in half.
Heir To The Nova (Book 3) Page 2
