by Nathan Roden
Three
Captain Raynard held his sword inches from Oliver’s face. Two members of the King’s Guard wrenched Oliver’s hands behind his back and shackled them.
“No!” Queen Jaclyn screamed. “Lucien! What are you doing?”
Lord Sterling Morgenwraithe clamped his hand over Jaclyn’s mouth.
“Please be patient, my queen.”
Sterling motioned to two other guards. They took Jaclyn by the arms.
“We are placing you and the squire under arrest—at the order of the king! The charge is treason!”
“Stop! Stop it this instant!” Jaclyn screamed. “Lucien! Are you mad?”
Lucien could not meet Jaclyn’s eyes.
“Lucien! I escaped my father’s officers! I came back! You accuse me of treason while I carry our child—you will look at me!”
Lucien’s head snapped up. He balled his fists. Madness filled his eyes.
“How dare you speak to me that way! You dishonor and disrespect me and the entire kingdom—just as your father has done for years! I am sick of it! I am surrounded by those who cannot be trusted. My own squire—bearing your secrets! You weep for his friend as if he was your flesh and blood—a deserter of the Border Guard! Who can know what other crimes we will discover?”
Jaclyn wept.
“I’m carrying our child. Your baby. Your son.”
“You don’t know that.”
Jaclyn nodded.
“I do know.”
“Nonsense,” Lucien said.
“If so, then so be it. Do not think I enjoy this outcome. The law is clear. Traitors are held in the dungeon to await trial. The fault is your own.”
Lucien turned to Captain Raynard. He avoided Sterling’s hateful gaze.
“We will travel around the villages. I will not have our shame put on public display.”
“Yes, your Grace.”
Lucien mounted his horse and rode hard to the north.
“You heard the king,” Raynard said to his men.
Raynard stepped next to Sterling and spoke quietly.
“Well, well. The pup appears to have grown some new teeth.”
“We’ll see if his resolve lasts long enough to weather the public outcry from Islemar,” Sterling said.
“Holding the queen and her unborn child in a cold and drafty cell will not play well throughout the kingdom,” Raynard said. “She has always been the people’s favorite—and being with child…”
Sterling narrowed his eyes.
“Yes, a favorite, much like her damnable father. Well, there is one way to ensure the people’s loyalty to the law. When we get back to the castle, I will establish a Regent’s Decree. From this day forward, every able-bodied man who is capable of raising a sword is to be sworn in as a member of the King’s Army.”
Raynard groaned.
“Have you any idea what it will entail to train that many ignorant recruits? I don’t have enough capable officers—”
“Who said anything about training?” Sterling sneered. “You only need to train them if you care whether they live or die.”
“Then why enlist them?”
“Common citizens often voice opinions,” Sterling said. “But when everyone in the land has family sworn to serve the crown—”
“Ah,” Raynard said, nodding. “Opinions—become treason!”
“Exactly. Send a man to catch up to Lucien. Tell them to wait for us.”
“Why?”
Sterling climbed onto his horse. He wore an evil grin.
“Because we are not going to avoid the villages. We are going to ride straight through them.”
Four
Simon could not move. He was beyond bewilderment.
“What’s happening, Simon?” Caleb asked.
Simon held out his talon.
“Hold onto me. We’re going up the hill.”
“You called out to Sir Edmund. Is he here?”
“He’s here, all right. And he has some explaining to do.”
“Ah, King Simon. Hello. Good to see you. Hello, Master Caleb.”
“I take it you and Papa have a history,” Simon said.
“Papa?”
Sir Edmund chuckled.
“Oh, yes. Of course. The sly devil does have a couple of young, doesn’t he?”
Sir Edmund turned to Papa.
“It’s good to see you again, my friend. Fly now—your family needs you.”
Papa raised his head and screeched.
Sir Edmund laughed.
“Don’t be silly! I save you. You save me. It’s an excellent arrangement! Go on, now!”
Papa flew into the valley, to his mate and his babies.
“Do you understand the dragons, Sir?” Caleb asked.
“Not in the least, dear boy! Certainly not as well as you do.”
“You saved Papa,” Simon said. “The red dragon would have killed him.”
“Perhaps,” Sir Edmund said. “Though I would never underestimate the old fellow. He has been through much over the years, and yet he stands strong. Was that battle not a sight to behold?”
Sir Edmund’s smile faded.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Caleb. I did not mean to be unkind.”
“You needn’t apologize, My Lord. I did see the battle in my own way. And I understand their language, so that helps.”
“What did they say to each other during the battle?”
“Much of it I should not repeat, My Lord. They curse as badly as men.”
This made Sir Edmund roar with laughter. Simon laughed as well.
“How do you know them, Sir Edmund?” Simon asked.
Sir Edmund’s face grew cold and hard.
“Would it serve you well to hear of the cruelty and crimes of your own flesh and blood? You were only a child when this…this curse fell upon you. I doubt you were ever told the truth.”
“I was only six, but I could read by the age of three,” Simon said. “I read every book of our history I could find—”
“History is not found in books!” Sir Edmund roared. “Books are recorded in fear! Do you think those tyrants would allow—?”
Sir Edmund stopped himself. He breathed hard.
“It is not my place to influence your opinion of your ancestors. And you have no reason to believe me.”
Simon took a step toward Sir Edmund. Braun looked up at him.
“Are your tales true?” Simon asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I will hear them.”
“I was knighted by King Vehaillion the Second, just before his death. It was just as well that his health was failing, for the king was quickly going mad. Your grandfather, King Vonedor, was a reasonable man, in the beginning. The kingdom flourished and grew. Buildings were constructed in his name. Crops were plentiful. Villages partnered for the good of all. And trade through the ports of Islemar brought great wealth and prosperity.”
Edmund Braun scowled.
“And then Vonedor…changed, somehow. He trusted no one. He whispered with his advisers and his seers. He spoke less and less with me and the officers of the Guard and the Army. It was obvious he was not sleeping; his skin grew slack on his bones—his face became a ghoulish gray. He was convinced that others conspired against him. What foolishness! The kingdom was invincible!”
“He sent us into village after village on murderous rampages. It sickened us to obey these orders, but what could we do? I tried to convince others to stand against these orders—to…remove the king from the throne, if necessary.”
“But the others were afraid. Vonedor surrounded himself with the most loyal and sadistic souls he could find. He was never alone.”
“I could not blame the others. They had wives, children, mothers and fathers to consider.”
“You have no family, Sir Edmund?” Simon asked.
“Aye, I had a wife. She carried our first child. The army and I returned from…I cannot remember the name of the village. There were so many. Vonedor commanded that we br
ing three men from the village with us to Morgenwraithe. Your grandfather wanted to make sure that our own citizens witnessed the penalty for opposing him, even if it was all in his twisted mind. These were the days when the castle walls were never without heads on display. As these three men were marched through the center of the village, one of them escaped. He did not get far, of course. The King’s Guard gave chase. The man’s last desperate move was to shield himself with the closest person he could reach.”
“That person was my wife. She was struck by four arrows—one of them in her swollen belly.”
“I am so sorry, Sir Edmund,” Simon said. “What a horrible thing to suffer.”
“No one wanted to speak to me, or even be near me after that,” Sir Edmund said. “That turned out to be a blessing. No one questioned anything I did from then on. The Army sent monthly supplies to the border camp in those days. I placed myself in charge of that expedition. I would ride ahead of the wagons, greet the Captain of the Border Guard, and then disappear into the Southlands for days at a time. Vonedor had begun to deny imports to the south. His irrational fears of the Southlands grew. He enticed the most powerful wizards and sorcerers in the south to come north. He promised them wealth and lives of luxury. Of course, what they received was slavery and execution.”
“A short time later, Vonedor sent hunters to kill the dragons.”
“Is that when you met Papa?” Simon asked.
Braun nodded.
“I learned some magic over the years—always in secret. Most of the old masters were gone; either baited into the north or sold for bounty. My skills were nowhere near theirs, but I practiced whenever I could. One day, I happened upon a hunting expedition made up of fifteen men. I followed them. They rigged snares near the dragons’ watering hole. They would capture two or three of the dragons and wait until they could make no more fire. And then the hunters butchered them like swine.”
“I couldn’t watch it anymore, lads. The mad king brought about my wife’s death. And the only way I could remain in the kingdom was to continue to subject myself to his madness. Maybe I’m the one who’s mad. Risk my life to save fire-breathing beasts? That’s not what I saw that day. I saw families that only wanted to live their lives in peace—the way they had done for hundreds of years.”
“What did you do?” Caleb asked.
Sir Edmund laughed.
“I stood on a hilltop and did not care if it was my last day on this earth. If I failed, and the hunters took my life, then so be it. But I was determined to try. And try I did. I had never summoned lightning before. To this day, I believe the willingness to die to save another might be the most powerful magic there is.”
“And you’ve been here ever since?” Simon asked.
“Oh, no! That would have been the wise thing to do. I returned to the border, unaware that scouts from the King’s Guard had been following me for weeks. I was arrested. A squad of King’s Guard was to take me to Morgenwraithe to be tried for treason; another public show of vengeance for the mad king.”
“Obviously, that did not happen,” Caleb said.
“No,” Sir Edmund said. He looked into the sky.
“He did not turn his back on me; Papa, as you call him.”
“Does he have another name?” Simon asked.
Sir Edmund smiled.
“I couldn’t say. I’ve always called him ‘friend’. I do like the name ‘Papa’. I will use it, as well. Now, I need to ask a favor.”
“Anything,” Simon said.
“We will need more men. Sickness and fear have weakened the south. At least four knights I served with retired to the village of Marcelo. It is the farthest village from Morgenwraithe—only a few miles north of the border. That should tell you something of these men’s feelings about the throne. I would like to warn them of what is to come, and beseech them to help us. They are still respected in the north. Perhaps they can convince others to join us.”
“Do you wish to go alone?”
Sir Edmund stroked his beard.
“It is not far, but it will still take time; time we do not have. I could take Papa—but I’m never certain how much he understands me. If he were to create a disturbance in the village, it could impair our efforts—or even alert the army to our plans.”
“I would be happy to take you,” Simon said. “But I have promised Caleb that I will take him to Islemar—to rescue his brother and sister.”
“This will take only one day, Lord Braun?” Caleb asked.
“Less than a day.”
“This is important, Simon,” Caleb said. “We should go.”
“I accept your offer,” Sir Edmund said. “Though I do not expect to introduce you. While I am in awe of your talents, Caleb, war is no place for children.”
“I will not hide from war, Sir Edmund,” Caleb said. “Those who are given talents are expected to use them for the good of others.”
“I can get Boone and Benjamin,” Simon said. “They will represent us well.”
“Splendid,” Sir Edmund said. “Get them. We should hurry.”
Sir Edmund raised his chin.
“I can sense it as well, My Lord,” Caleb said. “There are perilous days ahead.”
Five
Simon circled high over Drakal. He spotted Boone, who was hunting to the west of the village. Simon landed.
“Well, how are our little friends?” Boone asked. He frowned.
“Where is Caleb?”
“He’s with Sir Edmund. That’s why I’ve come.”
Helena ran to them. She was almost out of breath.
“Where is Caleb? Don’t tell me something has—!”
“No! No!” Simon said. “Caleb is fine. He’s with Sir Edmund. Lord Braun has completed his recruiting efforts. There are simply not enough able-bodied recruits to be had. Sir Edmund wishes to speak to some of his old soldier friends. He hopes they will help us gather support in the north. He asked me to bring Boone and Ben.”
Helena folded her arms.
“You were supposed to go to Islemar for Sara and Zeke!”
“Caleb agreed that this is important. It will take only one day.”
“Ben isn’t here,” Boone said. “He went to see his daughter. He’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I’ll go,” Helena said.
Simon looked at Boone.
Helena balled her fists.
“Don’t you say it! Either of you! Don’t you tell me how dangerous it is—or how I could be hurt or killed!”
Helena had begun wearing men’s britches when she was hunting. She fumbled with them, trying to unfasten them.
“I carry scars from this war—do you need to see them? I’m neck-deep in this war just as much as—!”
Boone threw up his hands.
“Keep yer britches on, for the god’s sake!” Boone turned to Simon.
“She’s comin’ with us, Mate. If you think I’m gonna listen to her bellyache until the end of time—oooff!”
Helena raised her knee into Boone’s stomach.
“There’s your bellyache. Bloody idiot.”
Simon lowered his head next to Boone’s.
“You love her—remember?”
Boone nodded.
“We need to go,” Simon said. “Quickly.”
Sir Edmund watched as Boone and Helena slid from Simon’s back. They stretched their arms over their heads. Sir Edmund opened his mouth to speak, but then thought better of it.
“Go ahead and say what’s on your mind, Sir Edmund,” Helena said.
She glared at Simon and Boone.
“Don’t think you can say anything I haven’t heard before.”
Sir Edmund raised a brow.
“On the contrary, My Lady. If we succeed in this war, it will take the efforts of us all. If we take our lives back from the tyrants, the victory will belong to men and women.”
Sir Edmund placed his hand on top of Caleb’s head.
“And to the children.”
Caleb smile
d.
“And to the kings of the air.”
Simon took Caleb back to the camp. Two hours later he landed south of the village of Marcelo. Simon, Sir Edmund, Boone, and Helena crept to the edge of the forest.
Boone reached into his pocket. He intended to offer his spyglass to Sir Edmund, but Sir Edmund had one of his own.
“Of course,” Boone muttered to himself.
Sir Edmund pushed aside some leaves. He covered his mouth and coughed.
“Sh!” Boone and Helena shushed him.
Sir Edmund backed into the trees. He had not really been coughing. He was stifling a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Boone asked.
Sir Edmund pointed toward the village.
“There’s a sign on that building. It has to be a pub. It says ‘The Maiden’s Chest—A Soldier’s Rest’.”
“That’s not funny. That’s disgusting,” Helena said.
“Aye, except I wish I had a silver coin for every time I heard Sir Gregory Beasley say that very thing. He always said when his fighting days were done he would open a pub by that name.”
“We couldn’t have gotten luckier, then,” Boone said. He looked at Helena and made a sour face. “That’s disgusting.”
“That’s enough, you two,” Simon said. “What do you want us to do, Sir Edmund?”
“Stay hidden. Simon, you should wait near the clearing, in case something goes wrong and we need to move fast. I’ll be back soon.”
Sir Edmund pushed open the door. There were only five men inside—one behind the bar, the other four seated around the same table. Sir Edmund fought the urge to smile.
It had been a lot of years since he had seen these men, but he recognized them all.
The men at the table continued their game of dice, barely paying any attention to Sir Edmund. The man behind the bar looked bored.
Sir Edmund turned toward the wall. He picked up a board and barred the door closed.
