by B K Suitter
“Excuse me, Princesses,” Gideon started to say.
“You dare interrupt me when I am telling the story of the “Three Princesses of Asaria?” Gretta said in a deep and threatening voice.
“I am truly sorry, Princess Gretta, but King Ironheart would like to speak with you in the library,” and Gideon wanted time alone with Aliha so he could explain what he had done.
Gretta looked at the simple farm girl, now turned princess, and Aliha spoke first.
“It’s ok,” Aliha said with a smile, “I would like to speak with Gideon anyway, and you can finish your marvelous tale another time.”
“Of course, sister, we will finish another time,” Gretta replied as she patted Aliha’s knee and then stood. The two princesses hugged, and Gretta moved to leave the room.
“Don’t interrupt me again, Gideon,” whispered Gretta as she passed the old healer on her way out.
“Sit down, Gideon,” Aliha spoke with authority. If the healer wanted her to be a princess, then she would make him choke on it.
Gideon eyed the girl and gave a disapproving frown. He spoke as he moved to sit down. “I did not mean to hurt you, Aliha, but I did need to bring you back to your homeland and reunite you with your real mother.”
“Who were Robert and DeeAnna?” Aliha asked curiously.
“They were your foster parents. I was asked by your mother to take you far away where you would be safe from King Uriah. When you were born, there was chaos in Castle Lamourne. The Dishoni had stormed the walls and were running throughout the castle, burning and killing. Your twin brother was born before you and –”
“Wait,” and Aliha held up a questioning hand. “I have a twin brother?”
“Yes,” Gideon replied hesitantly. “His name is Prince Hadias and–”
“Hadias,” Aliha repeated with distaste. “What a dreadful name. Who named him that?”
“Uriah,” answered Gideon. “Now please, let me finish. When Hadias was born, Uriah took the child out of my arms and escaped the castle through the underground tunnels.”
“The king left his queen to die?” asked Aliha.
“Yes,” replied Gideon.
“That’s not like any of the stories I’ve ever heard,” said Aliha, but oddly enough, it was like the nightmare she had had many times growing up.
“Uriah cares only for himself. Like I said, he left the castle and Queen Aliha gave birth to another child: you. After you were born, I used magic to take the three of us to the Temple of Carami.”
“You can do magic?” the girl asked with skepticism.
“Not anymore. Now please. Your mother was afraid Uriah would come looking for her and find you. She was afraid he would take you both back to Castle Lamourne and she did not love him – she never did. It was an arranged marriage between the kings of Asaria. Your mother was well known throughout the four lands and she was loved by all who met her. Queen Aliha was gentle and caring and even King Ironheart, who also loved your mother like a daughter, condoned the marriage in hopes that she could soften the power-hungry and war-like manner of the Southern King.”
“But Uriah could not be tamed,” Gideon continued. “He took his army to the north and made war upon King Ironheart anyway. Your mother wants you by her side, Aliha,” said Gideon as she sat without saying a word. “I promised I would bring you two back together. I will not force you to go, and you can go back to your old life whenever you chose. King Ironheart has promised to see you safely back to your farm,” and Gideon paused and looked deep into Aliha’s eyes. “This is your homeland and your mother waits for you even now. We all care about you, and I promise no harm will come to you.”
“You can’t promise me that, Gideon,” and Aliha stood and turned her back to the healer as she faced the fire. “I have seen death inches from my face in Icewater. Do you dare say I was not in danger when the Dishoni held a knife to me?” Aliha took a deep breath to calm herself, and Gideon remained quiet, content with letting the girl speak.
“It all just seems so confusing,” Aliha admitted as she turned back around. “When I was a small girl, I got lost in the woods and came across an old grave that had my name on it. I traced the letters on the head stone for quite some time, and I imagined I was named after a beautiful queen. That’s when Timber found me and led me back to my father, and I always wondered who was buried alone in the woods, and what a coincidence that I should have her name?” Aliha stared hard at Gideon, forcing him to reveal some hidden secret, but the old man simply shrugged and shook his head as if he knew nothing of the grave. But he did, and it drowned him in sadness.
The next morning, Aliha sat at a long table with Gideon, Shanks, and Gretta, as well as their host, the Beoraki king with his Shadows spread out all around. They were having breakfast and there were platters of fresh Arani fruits and baked breads and roasted mountain boar from the Great Dividing Mountains. They drank stout ale and Arani wine and spoke of the coming journey that Aliha agreed to take.
The doors to the breakfast hall were pushed open and in walked three men. They were from the Eastern Kingdom and were of average height and build. Their hair grew a soft yellow and was cut short and they had the blue eyes and fair skin of the Arani people. Two of the men were soldiers and dressed in boiled leather armor. They were not allowed to carry weapons inside Coldstorm, but they knew the Northmen were honorable and they were at ease.
The third man was dressed in colorful silks of red, orange, and yellow. His fine leather boots and leggings marked him as a man of noble birth. He was quite handsome, and he stared at Aliha as he walked over to the great Northern King. Aliha found herself staring back, feeling that he was strangely familiar. She was drawn to the man that was at least twice her age and she fought for an explanation as to why she felt she knew him.
“King Ironheart, it is an honor to be at Coldstorm,” the man said as he bowed low.
“You are welcome in this hall, Prince Allenmar. Please sit and share the meal you have helped provide at my table.” The king continued to eat his roasted boar and Prince Allenmar strolled the length of the table to sit down next to Aliha. His personal guards took up positions at the end of the table.
“I am Prince Allenmar, heir to the throne of Castle Sunflower.”
“Sunflower,” Aliha laughed. “Is that really the name of your castle?”
“Your mother loved it,” Allenmar said.
“You know who I am?” Aliha asked.
“Of course, you look just as she did when she promised to be my wife.” Allenmar laughed and leaned back as an attendant sat down a plate with fresh fruit and toasted bread. He was also given a glass of Arani Red, a personal wine he always took with him wherever he went.
“You were engaged to Queen Aliha?” she asked.
“She was not a queen when I knew her. We were childhood friends, me and your mother. Aliha’s father was on the king’s council and my father, King Allesteous, had told the man that he would like Aliha to be my future wife and queen. We were raised together and Aliha was groomed to be a queen, just not my queen,” and the Arani Prince just shrugged as if it didn’t matter and he took a long drink of his fine wine.
“Is this true?” Aliha asked when she turned to Gideon.
Gideon sat quiet and thought on his answer. Everyone knew that Queen Aliha was to be married to Prince Allenmar.
“It is true,” King Ironheart said loudly and he eyed the prince with authority. “I know you will always be bitter, Prince Allenmar, but our decision to wed Aliha to King Uriah was for the betterment of all Asaria.”
The prince nodded and looked away and Ironheart let it go at that. Bearok, however, slowly started to rise from his seat, for he felt that the king had been slighted by the Arani Prince. King Ironheart put a restraining hand on his Shadow and shook his head and Bearok stared down the table at the prince and his men.
“So, what is your name, lass?” Allenmar asked Aliha.
“My name is–”
“Her name is Pr
incess Aliha,” Gretta interjected. “She is a princess, like me, and if you call either of us lass again, I will have Bearok cut off your Arani head.”
Prince Allenmar put up his hands in defeat.
“I am sorry, Princesses,” and Allenmar turned to the girl. “You are Princess Aliha?” and she nodded her head and smiled.
“Interesting,” said the prince and he drank the rest of his Arani Red and bid his attendant to fetch another bottle. “I searched for your mother for eighteen years. King Uriah said she was abducted by the Dishoni when they gained access to the castle. I searched all Asaria for almost half my life and I finally come across her daughter at Coldstorm. A daughter no one knew she had,” and the prince laughed his silly little laugh again and took another long drink from his fancy glass.
“Prince Allenmar,” said Gideon, “since you seem so troubled by all of this, please allow me to once again tell the story of how our young Princess Aliha has come to sit at King Ironhearts breakfast table.” The healer was irritated at having to retell the same lie over and over, and in front of Ironheart, who detested liars and compared them to snow mice. But Gideon did so, and hopefully for the last time.
“It began the night the Dishoni raided Castle Lamourne,” and Gideon told their story to the Arani Prince.
Prince Allenmar listened to the amazing tale as he looked upon the girl. His mind began to wander as still a small part of his consciousness paid attention to Gideon’s story. Seeing Aliha at such an early age flooded his thoughts with memories of the time when he had last seen his Aliha.
More than twenty years ago, Prince Allenmar and his father, King Allesteous, were in the North visiting the Port of Snowflake during The Ice Pack, a dog sled race that is held once a year. Aliha and her father, Argus DeMoreath, had traveled with them. Argus was a nobleman on the king’s council, and they were exceptional friends as well. Aliha and Prince Allenmar were quite young when first they met, and they grew up close together with the thought that they would one day be married and Aliha would be his queen.
The Arani prince remembered standing on the cold crowded street of Snowflake with his beloved and her father. They were looking up at the top balcony of a two-story building made of wood and stone. A large board was hanging over the railing and men moved names around the individual slots. This was the Leader Board for The Ice Pack and it kept the patrons of the large port aware of the standings in the race. Names like Flay Renard, who was barely a man grown and in last place on the board, and Frost Jenkins, who was an old veteran of the race and was sitting in first place. Talons of the Eagle was in second – the Dishoni warrior being the favorite for the entire West that year. Then there was the newcomer to the sport, a young man who was simply called The Boar was holding onto third place.
As the prince stood with Aliha, a commotion broke out as King Ironheart made his appearance for the last two days of The Ice Pack. The race usually lasted a short fortnight, and during that time the port became the gambling and entertainment cornerstone of all Asaria. All vessels came into dock and no ship would raise anchor so the whole harbor and surrounding waters looked more like a dead forest with the bare masts sticking up like ancient trees.
Prince Allenmar recalled the grand feast that the Beoraki king had thrown for all of Snowflake. He remembered the Northern events of fighting and drinking and throwing blades of Beoraki steel. Allenmar recalled the dancing and boisterous singing, and he especially remembered how later that night when the celebration had turned somber, he was told of the plan to marry Aliha to the newly kinged Uriah. Allenmar immediately rebuked the plan, was standing and yelling at his father. He even dared yell at King Ironheart, calling him a fool and was then laid low by the large Northern boy named Bearok. As the prince stood up, he begged Aliha to say something. She had sat quiet during the whole ordeal like she had known all along. Allenmar then remembered how Aliha cried the night before when he called her his queen. She could not explain why she was crying, but now Allenmar knew. Aliha had known all along and had said nothing.
Allenmar stood with dignity and hurt in his eyes. He stared hard at Aliha and she reached out a gentle hand and he knocked it away and left the room. He mounted the Iron Horse that day and rode back across the frozen North to the Port of Icewater where a ship was waiting to sail him back to the Eastern Kingdom. Prince Allenmar never saw his queen again.
As the Arani Prince thought of his true love and listened to Gideon tell of Aliha’s journey to Asaria, he subconsciously began to hum a song that his Aliha had sung to him long ago. It was called “Forever Your Queen” and Aliha sat there and began to sing softly along with him. She knew every word, words and phrases that even Allenmar had forgotten.
The rest of the table went silent as Aliha quietly sang and the prince hummed. Then they sang the last phrases together.
“I will love you forever
And I take this ring
I’m promised forever
Forever your Queen”
Prince Allenmar did not want to know how Aliha knew the song. He simply stood and excused himself politely from the table and left the room, his personal guards in tow.
“How did you know that song, Aliha?” Gideon asked quietly.
“Someone I knew sang it,” Aliha quessed, but she couldn’t recall who. Just a figure lost in shadowed memories.
8
Year of the Frost Horn 2318 A.A.
The small frontier town had stood for a hundred years. It was built deep in the Timberlands – a long stretch of forest that ran the coast of the Eastern Kingdom and deep into the Southern Kingdom as well. There were many towns constructed throughout the region and they were all linked together with trade routes and logger roads and were allowed the right to govern themselves.
The men of the town were loggers. From early morning until late in the evening, they would work the grand forest. They cut the thick tall trees and loaded them onto long wagons that were pulled by teams of muscled draft horses and transported all throughout Asaria.
The women of the town were busy as well. They made crafts and stitched clothing to be traded or sold. They oversaw the schools and worship halls, as well as the children and elderly.
The frontier towns rarely saw excitement. The small communities usually held no more than two hundred people, and the routines of day to day life were quite regular, until today.
“You are the leader of this town, yes?” asked General Dread.
“I am,” the man said. He was on his knees with his hands tied behind his back. He was a thick man – a logger.
“I think we have rounded up nearly everyone, wouldn’t you agree?” The Asarian soldier squatted down to look the big man in the face. They locked eyes for a moment, and then the logger looked away and the other man stood.
General Dread was dressed in black leather armor and carried a variety of knives and other curious weapons. He was not a tall man, nor was he heavily muscled, but he was a man to be feared and he carried himself as such. The soldier had a bald head with deep dark eyes, hollow cheek bones, and a hooked beak of a nose. His face was pale white like a man that had been sick for too long, and his teeth were crooked and stained. He was a top general in Prince Hadias’ dark army and his appearance and smell was that of a dead man.
“Why have you come here? We have nothing worth taking. We are a simple people,” the logger spoke quietly to the Asarian soldier as he looked out at the rest of the townsfolk. The people were all lined up in the street and also on their knees, and worried whispers and soft questions filtered throughout the crowd.
“You have plenty worth taking. Just look at all the faces of the men and women that will be willing to work our mines. Your children will be bought and sold all throughout the South,” spoke Dread in a raspy voice.
“No!” the logger yelled, “You can’t–” and the Asarian kicked the kneeling man hard in the face, sending him flat to his back.
“I can,” and Dread turned away.
Prince Hadias sat
quiet upon his roan mare. He watched as his disciplined army began herding the people into cages on long wagons. Small skirmishes broke out as the men of the town tried to break free of their bonds. They were dispatched easily with wicked looking blades and crossbow bolts. Some were clubbed and carried away while others were killed on the spot and left where they lay.
The Asarian army crept into the small town in the middle of the night and caught the peoples unaware. They bottled up the residence and forced them out into the street to be loaded up and taken to the South.
“What about the boy?” Prince Hadias asked Dread. The prince had a dark complexion with long black hair and piercing gray eyes. He was as handsome as he was evil – his father raising him to be ruthless and cold.
“He escaped into the forest,” Dread replied. “Kneeamara is tracking him now and I suspect he will be joining us soon.”
“But will she bring him back alive?” Prince Hadias asked.
“Do you wish it?” Dread tilted his head as he asked the question.
Prince Hadias shrugged his shoulders and shook his head to indicate that it really didn’t matter. He turned his horse about and moved off to other business while General Dread went back to loading their captives into cages.
**********************
The young boy of ten summers ran as fast as he could, and the soldiers chased him. The tall thick trees kept him dodging back and forth and long branches scraped at his eyes and cheeks, but he would not slow and he did not tire. He could hear the labored breaths of the soldiers that fell farther back with each quick step he took, and he jumped across a wide running stream and then climbed up the muddy bank on the other side. He shook away fists full of mud as he sprinted off to gain even more distance between himself and his hunters.
