by J. M. Kearl
“If the queen did order it, she’ll never admit and neither would Verra,” Rorin says. “Now she may send the both of you to the front line of battle and hope for her death, however. To kill Daelyn now would make her petty and childish instead of just foolish. And Kyria knows you’d never forgive her. It’s not like you’d marry her after she had Daelyn executed.”
“No, I’d rather die, and have you thought that she just may want the both of us dead?”
A small child darts in front of Hess and he pops up. Boaden grips the saddle and squeezes with his legs to stay on. The boy’s mother grabs his arm and drags him out of the way. “Wo, boy, settle down.” Boaden pats Hess’s neck and slides off the horse. “There are too many children in this section.”
Rorin hops down and then a group of young boys surround them. “Will you sign our swords!” Each of them shouts holding badly beaten wooden swords out to the both of them. Boaden waves his hand over the four swords and his name magically burns into the wood.
The boys look up at him with admiration. “Whoa,” one says.
Rorin snaps his fingers and his signature appears as well. “I can’t have you out do me all the time.”
“Did you see that? Just a snap of the fingers!” one boy says to the other. They all say their thanks and run away, chatting excitedly.
“It's nice to be home where magic is admired.” Boaden pulls Hess through the crowds but stops when he hears a uniformed soldier talking to another.
“There has been an attack on our northern border. They slaughtered the entire village.”
“Excuse me,” Rorin asks, “did you say we’ve been attacked?”
The woman turns to him. “Yes. In Norhila.”
Boaden freezes when he hears the name. Last he heard, that is where his sister, Ehvas, was stationed. He doesn’t know if she is still there since it’s been months since he last spoke to her.
“We didn’t have any protection for this village?” Rorin seems confused. “All border cities are usually heavily guarded.”
“There were only fifty soldiers there, it’s a smaller town,” the man says. “They are all dead, as are the one hundred and eighty three villagers. The Hesstian’s even killed the children or took them.”
All dead. Boaden’s throat tightens at the thought of his sister’s pale face lying lifeless on the cold ground. Norhila will already have winter’s chill. Nausea rises up and he has to turn away from the soldiers. He takes deep breaths, you don’t know for sure... She may not have even been there.
“Thank you,” Rorin says and moves in front of Boaden. “Ehvas was in Norhila, wasn’t she?”
Boaden feels the sorrow coming from him. Rorin always liked Ehvas. When they were boys he always said he’d marry her but she never gave him the time of day, she liked older men, not her younger brother’s friend.
“Last I heard but I don’t know. I pray she was not.” Boaden writes a note to his sister, creates a fire in his palm and lets the parchment burn slowly. If she’s alive it will find her.
25. Madison
The Mermaids Call is packed, with not an empty seat in the building. The aroma of flavorful food hangs in the air, and though she’s eaten her fill, she debates on nibbling the sweet roll sitting on her plate. A mermaid waitress walks by collecting empty glasses. The shiny scales covering her forearms are mostly red but fade to orange at her wrists. A man at a nearby table smokes a cigar the produces a bright blue color, the man next to him, a pink. The mermaids liked showing off their colors.
But whatever bothers Boaden weighs on her mind more than the enticements of food. He’s picking at his meat and hasn’t spoken but a few words, which is unlike him. Meanwhile the rest of the group chatters and laughs. She assumed he’d gone to speak with Kyria but the meeting doesn’t appear to have gone over well.
At Boaden’s request there is a candle at the table and he keeps it close to him as if waiting for a message. When Daelyn asked him what was wrong, Madison watched and listened but he shrugged it off saying he was “tired”. Which Madison didn’t think Daelyn believed and neither would anyone else who was at the table that had any sense. What happened with Kyria? Perhaps she is angry with him after all.
A conversation taking place at the table just behind Madison catches her attention. “Now that King Rolland is dead do you think Hesstia will attack first or us?” asks an older gentleman with graying hair and the touch of time wrinkling around his eyes. He’s likely to be over a hundred years old and would have seen the last war maybe even the last two.
The man across the table from him, slightly younger with copper and silver strands in his braided beard nods. “We made the first move by having him assassinated. Sure, we’re all happy that King Rolland is dead but that assassination will cost thousands of lives.”
“That’s Boaden Exavior,” the youngest at the table says, tipping his chin toward Boaden. Madison guesses him to be one of their sons. “He’s the one that did it.”
“We should buy him a drink,” the oldest man says. He stands and raises his mug, addressing everyone in the Mermaids Call. “We should all give praise to Boaden Exavior.” Boaden’s head snaps up, and the man points at him so that all the eyes in the room fall on Boaden. “This is the man who assassinated King Rolland.” The entire place bursts into cheers. “Magic for all will be free! When we defeat Hesstia, no one will stand in our way. We’ve fought Hesstia before and won and will do it again! To Boaden Exavior!”
Nearly everyone there pounds their fists on the tables chanting, “Boaden! Boaden! Boaden!”
The beam on Boaden’s face could light up the room. Madison never took him for someone who sought after fame but anyone would be excited in this situation. Boaden holds up his glass and nods.
“To Boaden,” Madison quietly mumbles to herself, proud of her daughter’s husband and brings the glass to her lips.
After everyone in the Mermaids Call has shaken Boaden’s hand, rumors fly around the Mermaids Call of the attack on the northern border. Others must have heard Rorin talking about it.
Madison sits far back in her chair and sips on her drink. Hesstia has attacked the southern and northern border. They are splitting Delhoon’s forces and will likely attack the center next, coming through the Gap of Freeole. Delmar, the capitol, is far enough from the gap, nearer the coast but it’s in the center of Delhoon. Since Hesstia outnumbers their forces at least four to one, it’s a good strategy on their part.
Even though Kyria excused Madison from fighting, she won’t sit back and listen to rumors. She’s already decided she’ll fight. When she first heard that she wouldn’t have to, part of her felt relieved but also disappointed. And when she heard Rorin say Hesstia slaughtered the entire village of Norhila, even the children or stole them, making them into slaves, rage filled the very depths of her soul. They’d taken too much from her, from magic, from Delhoon, to stand by and let others battle in her stead. She is a force to be reckoned with and believes she or any one of these soldiers could tip the balance. When Madison killed the general in the last war that made a lasting impact.
I wonder if there is any internal conflict within Hesstia? There have been no rumors of Enden being questioned as King, as Kyria wanted. It had to look suspicious with him in handcuffs on stage when his brother was assassinated. But perhaps by now he had any who opposed his rule killed. That’s what she would do if she were in his place.
Jordane places his hand on her thigh. “Nebba Curtain just walked in. Shall we go see our estate?”
Madison finishes her drink. “Yes. Did you ask Daelyn if she and Boaden wish to stay with us?”
Jordane pushes back from the table. “She said she’ll speak with Boaden and let us know.”
Nebba grasps Jordane’s hand and pulls him into a hug. “Brother, it’s good to see you. It’s like I’m looking at a ghost, we thought you were dead for so long.”
Madison stands and Nebba wraps his arms around her. She can barely fit her arms around his barrel chest.
He’s massively built and nearly seven feet tall. “Madison, I’m happy you’re finally home.”
“Me too, Nebba,” she replies. Nebba was in the same age group in the academy as Jordane… and Midlan. He was one of their good friends.
“I’ve been assigned to escort you to your estate. That’s my position now. I’m a warrior at heart but since there’s been no war, I’m a guide. Mostly for the wealthy but occasionally I get to see old friends who’ve earned their place.”
Daelyn stands and takes Boaden’s hand. “We want to see it as well.”
To Madison’s surprise, Daelyn spoke in Delian without mispronunciations. It seems she’s finally picking up the language.
“There’s room,” Nebba says, his eyes giving Daelyn a once over then pauses. “Is this your daughter? The resemblance to you, Madison is uncanny.”
“Yes, that’s Daelyn.” Jordane grins. “She does look much like her mother.”
“She’s the one who took down the city of Kezington?” Nebba asks, his bald head wrinkling as his eyebrows raise. “Can I shake your hand?”
With her hand outstretched, Daelyn smiles. Nebba closes his huge palm around hers making her hand appear like a child’s.
Leaning in, Jordane whispers in Madison’s ear, “He can sense magical power. He rates people from minuscule to the queen, or at least that’s how he used to do it.”
Nebba releases Daelyn’s hand and his eyes flick to Jordane but his face gives nothing away. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Daelyn.”
“It’s nice to meet you as well,” Daelyn says and places her hand on Boaden’s shoulder. “This is my husband, Boaden Exavior.”
Grinning like a schoolboy meeting his hero, Nebba shakes Boaden’s hand. “Nerendae and assassinator of kings. I meet many famous people often but none of them quite your status. Now I know why you have so many drinks at your table. These two are notorious.”
“Oh, the drinks weren’t for me,” Daelyn says with a laugh. “Nobody knows who I am. I grew up in Hesstia.”
“People may not know you’re face yet, but they will,” Nebba says. He again looks at Jordane, this time with a knowing regard, leaving Madison wondering what that is about.
∞∞∞
While Madison and Jordane ride in the carriage with Nebba, she silently waits for their old friend to divulge what he assessed about her daughter.
Nebba peeks his head out the window and sits back against the carriage seat. “Your daughter and Boaden finally caught up to us.”
Madison knew they would, Boaden isn’t one to dilly-dally.
Nebba carries on the conversation, “Your estate is outside of Delmar by a few miles. It was in your paperwork that you both preferred a home in the country where horses could be raised, so that is what you’re getting.”
Jordane takes Madison’s hand and squeezes it. “It’s so great to be in Delhoon again.”
Within an hour they pull up to a black iron-gated estate that is much larger than Madison expected. It’s made of gray and white marbled stone with a spiral tower in the center and two turrets to each side. She counts ten windows with three floors. It’s a small castle rather than a house and there looks to be horses already in the pasture. Smoke is tied to the back of the carriage and will hopefully enjoy her new home.
Jordane looks at his wife surprised. “This can’t be ours,” Jordane says stepping out of the carriage. “Are you sure you have the correct address?”
The shiny black gate creaks when Madison pushes them open. A long stone path lays before her leading up to the ornate wooden doors of the home. A swell of honor and excitement floods her body. I can’t believe something so elegant belongs to us. After living in the cottage for twenty years, this is wonderful. Madison grew up with luxury but she never was able to enjoy it. Because of her parents, she often associates wealth with cruelty.
Nebba stands beside Jordane near the carriage. “I was surprised myself. This used to belong to the Jurgson families but they lost their fortune. For what you’ve done for Delhoon, you deserve it, but I expect your duties are not finished.”
Jordane takes Madison’s hand and they walk the stone path to the red double front doors and pauses. “And you’re completely sure this is ours?” Jordane asks.
With a chuckle, Nebba places his hands on his hips. “I’m sure, Jordane.”
Horse hooves crunching on the road cause Madison to turn. Daelyn and Boaden have arrived and tie their horses to the gate. Jordane waves at them. “Hurry! Come look at this!” His excitement is infectious and even Madison seems to have a permanent grin.
Madison steps inside and is greeted by a lavishly furnished room, a fireplace surrounded by ornately carved wood and high ceilings. The windows let in plenty of light and the massive blue and gray rug on the floor will be nice to keep their toes warm in the winter.
They walk further into the mansion through what Madison presumes to be the dining hall. It has a dark wood table to seat sixteen people and another large fireplace. The kitchen is off to the side of that, fully stocked with food and utensils, dishes, silverware, everything they need. It will be nice to cook in here. So much space.
A quick jaunt and they come upon stairs and up to the next level are several bedchambers; eight to be exact and the steep path to the tower is a sitting room that looks out over the fields and horse barns.
After the tour, they all meet in the first front room. “I can’t believe this is yours,” Daelyn says, standing before a painting of a dark haired woman.
“Well, after twenty years in Hesstia, I think I deserve it,” Madison says.
Daelyn nods. “Boaden and I will stay for the night but I’m not sure what we’re doing after that. May we go find a room?”
“Of course,” Jordane answers.
Nebba rests his muscular arms on his thighs. He’d been staring at the floor and finally lifts his chin. “I wasn’t sure what to think when I shook your daughter’s hand earlier.”
Madison sits taller in the red armchair, anxiously awaiting his judgement. “What do you mean?”
He pauses. “Her power isn’t like anything I’ve felt before, and I’m not even sure how to explain it. It’s stronger than Queen Kyria or her mother’s but it’s also…”
“Also what,” Jordane presses.
“It seems to have no limit as if it’s not restrained by energy like the rest of us.” Nebba sits back and shrugs. “Like I told you, I’ve never felt anything like it so I have nothing to compare it to. It’s different.”
“Not restrained?” Madison blurts out. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t think it costs her physical energy, if it did her body wouldn’t be able to withstand it.” He pauses with a solemn look on his face. “Maybe I’m simply… troubled by the sheer strength because if she taps into it she could snap her fingers and kill hundreds in one sweeping moment.”
“No one is capable of that,” Jordane says and walks to the fireplace and rests his hand on the ledge.
“I said it felt limitless,” Nebba says rubbing his dark beard. “She could win this war for us. If she can do what I think she can, you may find her on the throne in the future.”
The throne? I can’t imagine it. Madison rubs her hands together noticing they’ve become clammy. What Daelyn had done in Kezington was remarkable, but to snap her fingers and kill hundreds of people... “She isn’t adjusting to her abilities well. I’ll have to be harder on her to get the control she needs.”
26. Jordane
Jordane dips his hands into a tub of water and stares into the washroom mirror. It’s never bothered him before but he doesn’t have a special ability like Madison or Nebba. And it didn’t seem like Daelyn did either but what Nebba had said makes him believe she does. For her to be more powerful than the queen is dangerous and could eventually evoke a power struggle within the country. If Kyria were to ever find out, she may see Daelyn as a threat to her crown. People will insist that the most powerful woman be queen, that’s the w
ay it had always been. Maybe it’s wrong but he hopes that no one will ever know his daughters true strength, not even her.
Taking a wet cloth from the tub Jordane wipes his face and swishes his mouth out with a remedy to clean teeth. His had been badly damaged over the years but with the magic concoction they’re improving.
Using a candle to guide him, he makes his way to the bedroom where Madison is browsing the bookshelf in a revealing nightgown. It’s a sheer black material barely long enough to cover her buttocks. Jordane’s eyes wander from her bare shoulders to her muscular thighs. “Did you find anything good?”
She turns slightly, his body temperature slowly rises seeing her breasts through the nightgown.
“This one looks interesting.” She holds a red book that’s gold lettering reflects in the candlelight: Pleasure and the Art of Love
Jordane swallows hard, wetting his suddenly dry throat. Seeing her nearly bare body forces his worries of not being able to please her away. He sets the candle down and in three strides his arms are around Madison. The years of abstinence built a fire inside that needs to be quenched. He pulls her against him, his body reacting to the closeness of her and he kisses her hard on the mouth.
To his thrill, she wildly tears at his clothes, breaking the buttons on his shirt. Her skin is hot on his lips as he kisses down her neck. The nightdress glides up Madison’s hip when she latches onto his body. Jordane carries her to the bed, where they experience the passion and satisfy the hunger that had long been denied them.
∞∞∞
Jordane had forgotten how good it felt to lie in a woman’s arms, and the sheer ecstasy that making love to Madison was. The wall that he had put between them dissipated when he let his insecurities go and loved her the way she deserved. She had needed him as much as he needed her.
After sleeping for a few hours Jordane is woken by Madison climbing into bed.
She rests a hand on his bare chest. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
