Prophecy's Queen (The Triadine Saga)

by Timothy Bond

  "That was exhilarating!" Leondis exclaimed. "And I am still a better rider than you!"

  "You sit a finer mount," Randolf replied, smiling, "but as to whether you are the better horseman, there is more to that challenge than simply outpacing me on a groomed road with a world class warhorse. Your Majesty," he added at the end.

  Leondis howled in laughter. "Always keeping me honest, eh, Randi?"

  "Just trying to keep you grounded, Sire."

  "You made your point," the King said, grinning, "though I don't think in the way you intended. We will go at once to see the Lady Rozlynn and find out whether or not she is worthy to by my Queen!"

  "Now, Your Majesty?"

  "Yes, now, though I guess I should have said to see whether or not I am worthy to be her husband, not whether or not she is worthy to be my Queen, eh?"

  "As you say, Your Majesty."

  * * *

  "You have a guest, Lady Rozlynn. It's him. It's, it's the King, my Lady!" The innkeeper stood in the hallway, having just knocked so hard on the Lady Rozlynn's door that he practically shook it from its hinges.

  "Tell the King I will be down momentarily, Mr. Larkin," she replied, standing cooly on the other side of the threshold.

  "I'm sorry, my Lady?"

  "I don't know why you would be sorry, Mr. Larkin," she replied. "Simply deliver my message to the King. I will be down shortly." With that, she closed the door in the startled innkeeper's face.

  "You seem to have been correct," Drianna acknowledged, as Rozlynn took a seat in front of a dressing mirror to apply some subtle face paint before going down to meet the King.

  "It was a risk," she admitted, "but he is just a man after all. If you give in too easily, they tire quickly. Push back a little, and they will pursue. Push back too much, and you might lose out to another. The line is one you must carefully walk if you wish to hook one deeply."

  "I still do not understand your reasoning, Princess," the sorceress said with some exasperation evident in her voice. "How much longer will you play this game?"

  "That is entirely up to the King," she replied, adding the final bit of color to her lips. "Let us go down and greet the man."

  The ladies stepped from the room to find Mr. Larkin approaching from the direction of the stairs.

  "Oh, I'm glad to see you," Larkin stammered. "The King, well, he is not used to waiting."

  "He will wait for me," Rozlynn replied, stepping past the innkeeper and pulling Drianna behind her.

  As the ladies entered the common room, the first thing that Rozlynn noticed was none of the other guests in the inn were present. Typically, at this time of evening, the room was bustling with guests as they sat down to enjoy a meal and a mug of ale at the end of the day.

  "Where are the other guests?" she inquired of the innkeeper, trailing behind the ladies on the stair.

  "My Lady?" he questioned.

  "The other guests staying in the inn,” she stated again. "Why are there no guests in the common room? This time of night it should be quite full."

  "The other guests? Why, we removed them, my Lady. It is not appropriate that they remain here while the King is here."

  "Nonsense, Mr. Larkin," she stated. "You get them back in here and tell them to go about their normal business. I will not have their meal and evening interrupted simply because the King has arrived to speak with me. Go now, before they are too far removed for you to gather them back."

  "But, my Lady."

  "Now, Mr. Larkin."

  "Yes, my Lady.” The innkeeper glanced once at the closest of the King's Elite standing in the room, apparently the man who ordered the room cleared when the King arrived. He simply looked at the Lady Rozlynn and said nothing. Larkin disappeared out the back door to the common room.

  Rozlynn glided across the floor to where the King was standing with Lord Randolf near the fire, where a wide-eyed kitchen boy turned a spit of mutton.

  "So nice of you to come by, Your Majesty," she greeted the King, holding out her hand for him to kiss. "Good to see you again as well, Lord Randolf."

  "My Lady," Randolf replied, as Leondis brushed his lips against the back of the Lady's hand.

  "I came to see you," Leondis stated awkwardly, "to ask you to join me for dinner, tonight. I wish to speak with you without the trappings of royalty around—just you and me."

  "That sounds lovely," Rozlynn said, to the surprise of the King.

  "Mr. Larkin," she called to the innkeeper who was now hovering in the doorway that led to the kitchen.

  "Please have Mrs. Larkin prepare plates for the King, Lord Randolf, the Lady Drianna, and myself. I think the mutton on the fire is ready, and I would like some of that wonderful soup from the noon meal if there is any remaining. I've smelled her baking all afternoon and would love some of that rye bread Mrs. Larkin is known for as well. We will take this corner table near the fire, if that is acceptable."

  She strode to the corner and slid across the bench where her back was to the window and the wall to her right. Drianna joined her, and the ladies looked to the men to join them.

  Lord Randolf suppressed a smile as he turned to the King. "Your Majesty.” He indicated that Leondis should sit opposite the Lady Rozlynn.

  "Mr. Larkin," Rozlynn called out to the innkeeper, still standing in the doorway to the kitchens.

  "Yes, my Lady," the nervous man replied.

  "Please see that the men who accompanied the King are also fed, and charge the cost of their meals to my room."

  The King sat on the bench opposite the Lady, still in his hunting clothes. He realized that across from him was the most wonderful woman he had ever met. His eyes were filled with her beauty, her grace, her sheer delight at life. He wanted more than anything else in the world for her to be his Queen. Would she accept his proposal? He could only wonder, and hope.

  Fourteen

  Khollaran sat alone in his chambers, scrolls mounded around him and the ever-present mirrorstone gateway smooth and silent on the wall. It was a reminder of the magic that locked him in his prison nearly an eon ago, but the Watchers long ago abandoned their vigil, and the Dark Wizard had grown strong again over the following centuries.

  "Master?" The voice was that of the mighty dragon, Gurkinshka. "You wished to see me?"

  The dragon was Khollaran's greatest prize to date. He discovered the egg, lost long ago in the depths of the caverns, and painstakingly hatched it using intricate spells recovered from the ruins of the library at Al-Fikri. The Lesser Wizards of the First Age kept many writings about dragons in Ramon Tor, and those who kept scholarship in Al-Fikri copied the most interesting for their collection. Without those texts, the wizard doubted he could have hatched the dragon egg, but to his great delight, the dragon was now a completely loyal servant.

  "My son," he replied. "I need to bind a new servant today—an Elf."

  "Elf scum!" The dragon rose up quickly as he spat the words, hitting his head on the low ceiling and causing rubble to cascade down around him.

  "Easy, my son," the wizard said calmly, moving some of the more valuable scrolls away from the settling dust. "This Elf came to me to pledge his service, thanks in part to the fact that I saved his life, and in part because he seems to hate the Elves of the Aren nearly as much as I do."

  "You saved his life, Master?"

  "In a manner of speaking, yes. Raiders attacked the wagon belonging to his parents, who were silk traders traveling in the wasteland. The family was all killed, and by chance, the raider captain mistook the Elf for a human and spared him. The Elf has no idea that the raiders were doing my bidding.” Khollaran laughed at this. “You see, this Elf has human-like features. He grows facial hair, his ears are only slightly pointed, and his cheekbones are not anywhere near as pronounced as they should. He is an Elf, of that there is no doubt, but somewhere in his past, there is definitely a human ancestor. Those traits in him are strong. I suspect he can travel in both worlds without drawing any attention to himself. I will use him in
that way; however, he must be bound first. Do you understand?"

  "Clearly, Master.” The dragon did not like the idea of an Elf serving his master, but he did not question anything that the wizard did. If the dragon was to bind the Elf in service, then that is what he would do. "When do you wish to do the binding?"

  "Now," Khollaran replied. "The Elf is being brought here. I wish to speak with him before the binding and to witness the act. I don't believe I've ever seen an Elf bound before, and I wish to have the experience."

  "Of course, Father," Gurkinshka replied, lumbering off to one of the side chambers that was still large enough to hold his bulk.

  Soon the rattle of chains and shuffling of feet could be heard approaching, and the dragon watched as two guards marched the chained Elf past the opening to stand before the wizard.

  "Why must I be chained so?" the Elf cried as the guards pushed him to his knees before the wizard. "I came to serve you willingly."

  "You will address me as Lord-God Khall or Master," Khollaran announced, not getting up from his chair.

  "Why must I be chained so, my Lord-God Khall?" the Elf asked again. "I have given myself into your service gladly. I have sworn the oaths, pledged my very soul. These chains are not necessary."

  "So you say," Khollaran replied, looking down from the raised dais at the kneeling Elf, "however the only way I can guarantee that an Elf is true to me, is to bind him in service."

  "Whatever you require, my Lord-God Khall. I wish only to serve."

  The dragon took this as his cue to come out of the side chamber and perform his part in the binding. The guards, humans from the city of Al-Ashal who were already bound, stood silently alongside the Elf, each with one hand on a shoulder.

  "A dr, dr, dr, dragon!" the Elf finally managed to say.

  "My greatest servant," Khollaran replied, looking at the dragon with what passed as love for the wizard. "Hold out your arms."

  The Elf did not move, but stared at the dragon that was easing his way closer, steam escaping his nostrils and the smell of sulfur now strong in the air.

  "Hold out your arms!" Khollaran ordered again. The Elf immediately obeyed.

  His wrists were bound with rough black steel bands. He held out his arms before him, as the guards turned him to face the dragon.

  "You will repeat after me, Elf!" Gurkinshka spoke in his singsong dragon voice, though the Elf was not compelled by the magic.

  "My Lord-God Khall?" the Elf pleaded.

  "Follow his instructions," the wizard responded.

  Gurkinshka trickled tendrils of fire over the bands. They danced around the rough black metal, changing the metal into seamless, obsidian bands of obedience.

  "Repeat these words," the dragon instructed. "I am bound for all time."

  "I am bound for all time," the Elf repeated.

  "To serve without question."

  "To serve without question."

  "Every whim of my Master," the dragon said.

  "Every whim of my Master.” The Elf started to shake and quiver under the power of the magic.

  "I live but to serve," instructed Gurkinshka.

  "I live but to serve."

  "My Lord-God Khall!"

  "My Lord-God Khall!" the Elf yelled in response. He dropped to the ground in agony, suffering from the worst pain he had ever experienced. He believed his skin was being charred and his flesh consumed by the flames that continued to cover the bands.

  "It is done," the dragon said at last. "You are bound to serve our Master until your dying breath."

  The pain receded. His flesh was not burned, and the Elf looked adoringly up at the wizard before replying, "I live but to serve, oh mighty Lord-God Khall! How may I please my Master?"

  “Tell me your name, Elf,” Khollaran asked.

  “Turbin, my Lord-God Khall. My name is Turbin.”

  * * *

  Deep in the farthest recesses of the Dark Wizard's prison, Khollaran observed his latest experiment. This section of the old Dwarven stronghold had been sealed away from the Dwarves when they occupied these caverns. During The Breaking, the seals were broken, and Khollaran doubted anyone living knew what was down here.

  The wizard gazed at the latest of his creations to emerge from a birthing chamber, as a servant tended to the creature. Weak and ill-formed, life lasted only a few short minutes before the Orc died.

  "This one was at least born alive, Master," another man said, studying the hideous corpse before him. "Three more were stillborn this morning."

  "I believe I have found a possible answer," Khollaran admitted to the one human who understood that the wizard was not a God. He was one of the first to join the Dark Wizard in this endeavor, and before he burned out his own powers, he was somewhat of a lesser wizard himself.

  "Was there something in the latest batch of scrolls, Master?" Jonah asked.

  "There were a couple of obscure references, written in the ancient scrawl of the Nordae, that I believe may hold the key," Khollaran admitted. "We need a stronger seed. What we have been using so far is not viable enough as it has yet to come into the world on its own. We need to use an actual infant, born into the world already."

  "We have no breeders in the caverns, Master," Jonah reported. "The last of them was killed, um, accidentally by several of the men."

  "Gather more then!" Khollaran ordered. "Bring them in already with child, as I do not wish to wait to try out the new spells. If you can locate newborns in the villages, that is even better. They must be very young, however, no more than a few days old."

  "Your will be done, my Lord-God Khall," Johan spoke a little louder, making sure that the others in the room heard the devotion.

  Khollaran left the birthing room, certain that he was nearing guaranteed success. He had come a long way in the last century. He would bring life into the world without the need for seed before he was finished, but he needed an army now, and would do whatever it took to create one.

  * * *

  "Sky fire, ancient enemies allies become. Stone burns, Griswold reigns, darkness rises, death certain." — The Goblin Prophecies, Caergana Abbey

  Fifteen

  "I think it's absolutely splendid news, Lord Randolf," Rozlynn said smiling broadly. "I'm so happy for you both!"

  Randolf just announced his engagement to the Lady Anne, with the wedding to be held in the spring. The couple was madly in love, literally glowing, and were unable to be more than a few steps apart when they were in the same room.

  "You will be wed here, in the castle,” the King announced. It was not a question, and neither Randolf nor the Lady Anne had any intention of arguing.

  "We would love that, Your Majesty," Anne said demurely. "Though there is much planning we must do between now and then. We hope to set the date after the snows clear the passes so that more of our friends may attend."

  “Fifth-month seems just about right," Randolf added.

  "Though that is very little time!" Anne nearly winced as she said this.

  The four were seated at the head of the table in the Royal Ballroom for a celebration to greet the new year. The tradition was for dancing and merriment from late in the evening on the last day of Twelfth-month right into the morning of First-day of the new year. Tonight would be no different, with a lively band, good food, and most of the Lords and Ladies of the Kingdom in attendance.

  "Lady Rozlynn," Anne asked, "would you please accompany me into the garden? I have a few things I wish to speak about in private." She looked knowingly at both the King and her betrothed as she pushed back her own chair.

  A servant came in quickly to help the Lady Rozlynn with her chair, as well as to straighten up the now empty chair of the Lady Anne as the two women descended from the platform, crossed the room, and exited into the garden.

  "I think she will say yes," Leondis said to Randolf, "but I still have some doubts."

  "You two have been spending so much time together these last six weeks, you must know by now, Sire."

&nb
sp; "I feel certain that there is no other man whom she would even consider," the King said nervously, "but by the Gods, Randolf, she is a riddle, wrapped in an enigma!"

  "Anne did not want me to announce our engagement tonight, Your Majesty”—Randolf ignored the nervousness of the King—“but I felt that Rozlynn might actually be more open to your question if she saw how happy Anne and I are, and perhaps, well, perhaps it would help."

  "I doubt it will make any difference either way, but I appreciate the thought. Okay, here I go. Wish me luck!"

  Randolf had never seen the King this nervous, but it was clearly time he asked for the Lady Rozlynn's hand. Doing so in the privacy of the garden meant that if she said no, he would not be embarrassed in front of the entire room.

  Everyone assembled knew, of course, that the King was madly in love with the Lady Rozlynn, and they could also tell that she had eyes only for the King. None was aware that the King had not bedded her yet, as his reputation for passion when it came to women was well known. To this point, however, Rozlynn made it very clear to the King that nothing would transpire between them that any could possibly consider scandalous.

  * * *

  "What is it you wish to speak with me about?" Rozlynn asked the Lady Anne when they were alone in the garden. The heated garden was still almost a mystical place to Rozlynn, warm even this time of the year with only a light wrap. The magical gardens of Kalystra, heated through the winter by the power of highly tuned earth-stones, were its only equal.

  "I need you to come this way first," Anne said, talking Rozlynn's hand and leading her toward a very private section of garden that contained a small fountain and two marble statues.

  When they stepped through a neatly arched hedge, Rozlynn was surprised to find Leondis standing next to a statue, wearing a particularly nicely cut jacket that showed off his sculpted upper body.