The Heir of Ænæria

by Thom L Matthews

  “Oh, I highly doubt it. Especially since it’s obvious he has feelings for her. That would only make her less likely to discuss it. You see, my daughter was infatuated with Sera, and she with Arynn. It may even have been love. The Elders forbid any such relations.”

  The revelation shook Rose. She’d always disregarded her own sexuality and was very private on that front. Only Ben, Vic, and Takashi knew. She would probably tell Trinity at some point. She thought of it more often now that she was a queen. People would expect her to marry, to produce heirs. She didn’t want that. Never wanted it. No one ever caught her eye like that, and she refused to marry for any reason other than love. If only she had the capacity for such a feeling outside the realm of family and friends.

  “Is she that filled with rage? Is she so resentful that she’d betray everyone she’s ever known?” Rose asked.

  Siegfried nodded grimly. “I think it could be used against her. Say, if the Ænærians reunited her with Sera. If they were to hold Sera’s life over my daughter’s head, weave in some lies here and there to make the Penteric Alliance seem like the real enemy, then Arynn’s hot temper could be used against us. If anyone could harness that temper, it’s Randolph.”

  Rose knew that feeling better than most. She’d been manipulated by him before. Trapped in his web like a fly, and this war was the fallout for cutting her loose. The common ground could be useful to her. It could help her empathize with her enemy, reason with her. If only she could go to Vestinia instead of Parvidom. Alas, she knew the other Penteric leaders would never allow it. Politically, it was far more important that she be in Parvidom. And Vestinia would be far more dangerous. She would have to come up with something else.

  “I thank you, Master Siegfried. This couldn’t have been easy for you.”

  “Why, it’s the easiest thing in the world to talk about someone you love. Even if they’ve lost their way.” He paused a moment, then added, “If I may ask a selfish favor.”

  Rose stayed silent. She answered with a gentle nod.

  “When the times comes to face her…” He hesitated a moment. “Please do what you can to keep her safe. She’s not a bad person. She just needs to be guided in the right direction.”

  Again, Rose said nothing. She could promise nothing, even in her position. She could only try, and that wasn’t enough for a mourning father. She smiled half-heartedly and left.

  There was a small, somewhat rundown shack at the edge of town. It didn’t have a view of the lake from the hilltop. Its view of the forest and green fields below was obstructed by the last pillar of the south-facing wall that shielded half the village. Some of the wood had succumbed to water rot, and the chimney had been seized by bats and looked like it had been hastily boarded over. Though it was not a nice house, it was indeed a nice home. A young couple lived in it, perhaps five or six years older than herself. With them was a little boy named Pawel.

  “I’m so sorry for the condition of things here!” Carina said. “Had we known you were coming we’d have straightened up more.” As she said that, Pawel raced around the room, knocking into a cabinet, waking up a long-haired gray cat that been resting happily and undisturbed. It hissed at Pawel and made to lunge at him before ultimately deciding it would rather resume its nap in the sun.

  Rose giggled at the sight. “If anything, I’m the one to apologize for coming unannounced.”

  “No, not at all! You see, we only moved in a few moons ago and had very little money. This was one of the only houses unoccupied that we could afford, and my husband and I are still working very hard to pay it off and fix it up.”

  “You’re from Plutonua, right?”

  Carina appeared taken off guard. Probably subconsciously, she took a step back. “Why do you ask?”

  “I wanted to speak with Roryk, the Rhion who escorted you into Vänalleato after my cousin helped defeat the Ænærians chasing you. Unfortunately, he’s lost all memory of the event due to a concussion after the power cell explosion. I want to know what happened.”

  “Who’s your cousin?” Pawel interrupted.

  “His name is Ben. Do you remember him?”

  “Yeah, I do! He had the grumpy horse and the big fluffy wolf! Is he here? It’s been so long since he visited. Why isn’t he with you? Did his eyeball grow back yet?”

  Rose stifled a laugh and ruffled his hair. “Sleipnir is a grumpy horse, you’re right! Ben’s not with me now—he’s on a super-secret mission with his wolf. I’m sure he’d much rather be here visiting, though.”

  “Woah!” Pawel gasped. Then he ran back off to another room in the house. Rose was surprised to not hear anything break, though his pounding footsteps may’ve drowned out any crashes.

  Carina gave an exhausted smile and shook her head. “Harun could probably give you more details than me. He’ll be back from the new farm by the lake before supper—then I’ll be off to tend to the animals for the evening.”

  “I don’t need a very detailed account. Just the basics.”

  Carina offered Rose a seat by the table. She looked too intimidated by the guards to gesture the same for them, so Rose did in her stead. They shook their heads and stayed idly by the door.

  “The Rhion and Gatron were all tied up and unconscious the whole ride here. We made it to the front gate and had such trouble getting let in. Roryk had some contacts in town, and once they vouched for him, we were finally admitted entry. Well, while I was getting set up in a spare room for the night, I heard an explosion. I knew the sound well. They experiment with weapons in Plutonua all the time. It came from the front gate where we’d left the captured Rhion. Harun was nearby, says he saw Roryk fighting off a few of the Rhion as they tried to escape, and suddenly the power cell exploded, incinerating the entire wagon and everyone on it. Roryk was unconscious for two days. When he came to, he had no memory of the incident. We explained what happened, and he assured us that no one could’ve survived that explosion.”

  “Roryk and your husband are lucky to be alive then,” Rose said.

  “They are. But now I hear rumors Gatron is alive. How is that possible?”

  “I’m not sure. Did anyone ever actually see his body?”

  “They were all unidentifiable. By the time the fire was put out and the smoke cleared no one could even tell how many bodies there were.”

  Rose scratched her chin, considering this. “Did anyone other than Roryk and your husband see this?”

  “The boy watching the gate. Felix, I think.”

  Another name Rose didn’t know. There hadn’t been a mere boy watching the gate when she arrived. The entire Vänaguard had met them. “Has anyone talked to him about it?”

  “I’m sure they have. I’ve never heard anything different than what we’ve been able to piece together—except the rumors that Gatron really is alive.” Carina sat uncomfortably, adjusting her position in the chair. Rose wouldn’t torture her with this for long. This was a busy woman. A working mother trying to build a family.

  “May I ask why you’re so interested in this?”

  “We’ll be fighting Plutonua soon. I want to know if the rumors are true, if Gatron really is alive, or if it’s a lie that’s been fed to us.”

  “What could they possibly gain by lying about it?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Rose said. “Thank you for meeting with me. Please tell your husband that I’m sorry I missed him.”

  “He won’t believe me when I tell him who came to visit.”

  Rose smiled and reached into the bag around the waist of her dress. She abhorred wearing it around the streets and couldn’t understand why dresses couldn’t be fitted with pockets. She pulled out a small pouch and handed it to Carina. Its metal contents jingled together as the young mother accepted it. “Maybe that’ll help him believe. Put it toward the house, so you can spend more time with him.”

  Carina untethered the strings around the pouch and covered her mouth as she gasped. Before she could hear Carina’s protests, Ro
se was out the door.

  As Rose had suspected, there was no boy at the balcony overlooking the road winding toward the gate from the forest below. Sentinels and Vänaguards traded shifts, at least four at a time with dutiful eyes scanning for signs of hostility. When it came to the whereabouts of this boy, none were particularly helpful. It was probably a lost cause anyway. If the boy had been the only one to see anything then surely, he’d have been questioned. It was entirely possible he hadn’t seen Gatron escape. Or the legate was truly dead and the Ænærians were feeding misinformation to plant confusion.

  She moved onward to the town hall in the market district. It should have a census of everyone living in the town. Winds breezed through the streets, chilled by the town’s altitude and the waning of summer. With it came the scent of autumn pollen, making its first mark for the year. Nothing but cold and dark times ahead.

  Vänalleato’s town hall was about the size of Valhaven. A long and wide building with an antechamber leading to a corridor that opened up into a magnificent library. There were shelves from floor to ceiling with books stacked side by side containing town records and histories. This had always been her mom’s favorite place in Vänalleato. Reading was one of the few joys she still held in life. Rose would make sure to borrow one of the tomes and have it sent back to Freztad. Lydia wasn’t used to being without her daughter, and Rose worried her abduction would’ve been the end for her frail mother. After Alphonse’s funeral, though, she seemed almost reinvigorated. Rose didn’t suspect this to be out of celebration for his death; her mom was simply happy to know her big brother was no longer in harm’s way. After all, she’d gone fifteen years without knowing what happened to him. Yet, by the same token, Rose never did ask how her mom felt about Julius’s death. Sometimes the best way to share something was through silence.

  The hall’s worker guided Rose to the most recent census log from a stack of dusty journals each about a half-foot thick and bound by dried black leather. It was about half full, all with brief details about the citizens. The front of the book dated back twenty-five years, and Rose was surprised to find that Felix was closer toward the end.

  Name: Felix.

  Sex: Male.

  Appearance: Frail, small child. Night dark skin with bright blue eyes and blond. Most peculiar appearance indeed.

  Date of birth: unknown; estimated to be year 141 Present Era based upon reported age of ten at the time of this entry, Wolf Moon 151 PE.

  Place of birth: unknown.

  Parents: unknown; adopted by Wulkan, blacksmith.

  Rose returned the census log and left the library, but not before picking up a book for her mom. Something called The Human GeneHome Project. It was an old one, with a few pages missing and a ragged cover. Her mom wouldn’t mind the condition. Nearly all books were like that nowadays unless they’d been written after the Old Days, and those were far and few between. At any rate, it was a title she didn’t recognize and figured her mother hadn’t read it.

  The smithy resided near the Vänalleato gate by the wall as it curved with the hill. It was an easy enough place to locate with its sounds of pounding anvils and sizzling metal. The forge lay inside a stone crafted awning. Bellows whooshed loudly as Rose entered the workspace. A tall and bulky man was hunched over the forge, sweat steaming from his forehead. Molten metal poured and congealed in its mold. He moved onto another piece, grasping it with forceps and dipping the glowing red blade into water with a violent hiss. If Rose weren’t so pressed for time she would’ve remained still, awe washed over her face.

  “Excuse me, are you Wulkan?”

  The smith paused, turned to Rose and the guards, and nearly dropped his tools. “My Queen!”

  Her patience for everyone’s astonishment when they saw was being stretched thin. Just over a moon ago, nobody would’ve skipped a beat. Despite all the gawking, she was still the same person. “I apologize for intruding. Do you know where your son is?”

  “Felix? What’s that boy gotten himself into?”

  Rose waved her hands in response. “No, nothing at all! He witnessed something a few moons ago that I want more details about.”

  His face contorted and crossed his arms. “Oh, I’m sorry, my Queen. I’ve sent him to Sydgilbyn for his safety. I don’t want him near the border during the war.”

  Nauseous guilt spun Rose round and round. It likely wasn’t meant as a jab. Still, she felt guilty. The war wasn’t her idea, nor necessarily her fault. The Ænærians made the first strike when they sent wastelanders to Freztad. She was just the figurehead of it on her side. A tool to rally behind for a cause.

  “Is it something I may know about?”

  “Legate Gatron of Plutonua was reportedly killed in an explosion at the front gate. Your son allegedly saw it. There’s a rumor that Gatron is still alive. I want to know what really happened.”

  “Ah, yes, he told me about that.” He looked wearily past Rose to the men keeping guard.

  “You can trust them. They know not to divulge anything I discuss today.”

  Wulkan’s shoulders relaxed though he didn’t seem totally convinced. “I think it was quite a shock to him. He hardly spoke about it. From what I got out of him, it seems a few men talked to the prisoners before the explosion. Felix said he saw men running from the scene just before the explosion. The Elders communed about it for a week, discussing all the evidence. Their official statement concluded that the power cell of a sung accidentally exploded in a struggle between Roryk and the other Ænærians. Roryk managed to escape far enough to survive before it detonated. The prisoners had been restrained and were unable to escape.”

  Rose curved an eyebrow and leaned on her side with her arms crossed. “That story has a lot of holes.”

  Wulkan chuckled, a deep echoing laugh that seemed right at home with the noises of the forge. “That’s an understatement! But y’see, none of us knew anything about sungs back then. We all took their word for it. The Elders write our laws that keep us safe. I’d have believed them too, if it hadn’t been for Felix’s story being so different. He’s a difficult boy, but his memory is impeccable. That’s why he watches the gate. There isn’t a single detail that he misses.”

  There was something about the way Wulkan annunciated his last few words. Like he was trying to say something beyond just those words. She noticed that he was glancing back at the guards every few moments, still ill at ease. He wasn’t telling her something. Not out of disrespect, no, he seemed to be a respectful enough man. There was something he didn’t want to share in public, whether it be his coworkers or the guards. Rose decided not to bother the man any longer. She would continue to go about her day as planned. No sense wasting more time on a dead end.

  There was a meeting after lunch with the strike team headed for Parvidom. A small group—twenty-three men and women including Rose. Bjorn would lead the attack with Kristos as his second-in-command. Zechariah and Sylvio were there too. Trinity insisted upon going with them, calling herself “the queen’s personal medic.” They would leave in a few days, and Bjorn wanted to make sure they all knew the proper formations. He predicted that a small group could take control of Parvidom by surprise in just over an hour. Most of them would be armed with guns but would begin the assault as silently as possible. Rose would have two pistols and her trusty bow and arrows. Trinity and two heavily armed guards would be with her at all times.

  They would ride before dawn to limit the chances of being seen and separate into four smaller groups to surround the town and close in. A fifth group would set barricades on the roads to slow any patrols from getting in their way. The town would be theirs once the trade building came under their control. It held the town’s letters and financial reserves. It would be the most heavily guarded. Rose felt the adrenaline surge through her body as she thought of the attack. It was almost enough to distract from her investigation. She was promptly reminded of it when she arrived back to her quarters that evening.

  A scroll of parchment lay gentl
y on her bed. It had an unmarked seal of fresh red wax. Rose approached it cautiously. No one should have been in her room. There were no signs of anything in the room being displaced. The couple who owned the inn assured her they’d let no one in. Stranger yet, there were three newly installed locks on her door, specifically placed for her protection; no one but her had the keys. She would have words with the locksmith about this. The only other way into the room was through the window, but that was just beside the precipitous cliff overlooking the lake. No one could’ve climbed that. The window also remained locked.

  Rose broke the seal and slowly unraveled the scroll. It was a letter, written in black ink with rather handsome penmanship.

  Be wary of your allies. Not all are as benevolent as they may seem. The girl Sera was sold to the Ænærians not by wastelanders but by men in this very town. A wastelander named Arma rots in the dungeons of Talamdor because she knew the truth. Keep your eyes open for corruption. It is all around you.

  A cold chill ran down Rose’s spine. Everything about this spelled trouble. Suddenly Rose’s suspicions had all but been confirmed. Since the war started, Rose had been suspicious of traitors. For over ten years Julius thought Rose dead from the plague with the rest of the children. And then one day the village was attacked by wastelanders hired by Randolph. The only way he could’ve known Rose was alive was through communication with someone in the Penteric Alliance. It was no secret that she was Lydia’s daughter. But Julius never would’ve known if he had had a son or daughter, let alone the name. Her mom hadn’t used any of the names she’d discussed with Julius.

  Her suspicions were further raised by the fact that sols had been circulating through Vänalleato for years. Also, Gatron had been the first Ænærian to communicate with the Penteric Alliance—through Vänalleato, no less. Added to the mystery of his death versus escape, and it sounded almost like a conspiracy. Rose was willing to bet that was the word Wulkan wanted to say. If he thought it too and was wary of what he said around others, then it brought Rose to a single conclusion: there’s a traitor living in Vänalleato. The Grand Elder had been hesitant to wage war with Ænæria. Who else had the influence to erase facts that didn’t suit his needs?