A wide smirk spread across Bello’s face. She pulled back her sword and swung it at Mythia again, nicking her arm with the blade. A drop of blood oozed out. Mythia looked up at her with shock, all fatigue forgotten, as she pulled back her own sword with renewed ferocity. The sound of clashing metal bounced around the giant tavern as the two women fell into a rhythmic dance, dragon sword against dragon sword. Mythia’s brow dripped with sweat; she jumped back and forth with each jab, grunting from the effort. But Bello stayed as cool as her gray eyes, her body hardly moving despite how quickly her blade glided through the air, always one step ahead of Mythia.
They continued this way for nearly a half hour before Bello appeared to grow bored and ended the fight with a complicated movement that caught Mythia off guard, which caused her sword to fly out of her hand. It soared through the air with a whistle and landed over fifteen feet away with an echoing clatter. Bello slid her sword back into her belt.
“You have talent, Mythia. I’m not surprised- the art of the sword is in your blood,” Bello complimented. “But you lack in strength as well as experience.” Mythia gasped for breath as she ran across the floor to retrieve her weapon, whereas Bello did not have a single bead of sweat on her and breathed easily and slowly. “Meet me here every night after supper. You may not realize it yet, but the training exercises Eldrid is having you do will make you stronger and faster with your blade.” Bello started to walk away, then hesitated, turning her head slightly toward Mythia. “By the end of the next two weeks you’ll be ready.”
Mythia waited a moment to catch her breath before speaking. “Ready for what?”
Bello continued walking down the cavern, to the staircase. Without even glancing behind her she responded. “To do what you were born to do, Mythia. Lead the Rejicio army into war...” Finally, she stopped and turned fully to face Mythia, her eyes blazing with heat. “To take your rightful place at the throne and rule over the Kingdom of Terra.”
Mythia knocked on the door of the long house closest to the entrance of the training cavern. It swung open quickly, Eldrid holding onto the handle with a smile. “Ah, Bestia. Come in.”
She walked in uncertainly to find a kitchen much larger than Bello’s, filled with recruits from different groups carrying goblets and snacking on fruit and dried meat. Paintings of men wearing the Rejicio’s dark tunics and long chainmail lined the walls. People stood around laughing and talking, conversing animatedly, or just relaxing in high-backed chairs that surrounded the multiple round tables. Mythia was forcibly reminded of the tavern back in Trigonus, only less crowded and slightly smaller.
Only one person stood out who was not partaking in the socializing- the bald, dark man Eldrid had called out for not showing any teamwork. He stood in the corner clutching tightly to his goblet, slouched over with a frown. Mythia looked at him curiously, watching as his dark eyes slid right up to hers.
“Bestia!” Zane exclaimed, shoving a goblet filled with crimson liquid into her hands.
Krea skipped over right behind him, a look of pure glee on her face. Zane drank deeply from his cup and urged Mythia to do the same. She raised the goblet to her lips and tasted a sweet, pleasant wine that reminded her instantly of strawberries. It was not as strong as the wine they served in the castle, but much more fragrant than the mead from the tavern in Trigonus. She felt a warmth spread down her throat and relax her muscles. She suddenly noticed she was the only one still wearing chainmail which felt particularly heavy over her aching shoulders. She tugged at her own.
“Hold this for a moment, would you?” Mythia thrust the goblet back into Zane’s hands. She tugged on her chainmail, struggling to get it over her head with her dead arms.
Krea laughed. “Here, let me help you with that.” She easily pulled it over Mythia and hung it on the wall, along the row of dozens more.
“Why is that so easy for everyone but me?” Mythia asked exasperatedly. Zane handed her back the goblet.
“I used to help my brothers with theirs when they would get home from training,” Krea explained. “What did Bello need with you anyway? Zane and I were just wondering.”
“She wanted to catch me up on some things,” Mythia shrugged. She remembered the words of Eldrid about how they were meant to learn to trust each other with their lives. How am I supposed to do that if I am not honest with everyone? Mythia thought bitterly. She quickly changed the subject. “How long have you been in the army?”
Zane scratched his head. “Only a week, for me. My brother was arrested for being a donatus nearly a month ago. Of course, he is Rejicio, so he’s always had gifts, but the bounty hunters will claim anyone to be donatus if it gets them gold. I joined the army to help get him back.” A sadness washed over his face.
Mythia lowered her goblet from her mouth. “Is that something we’re planning on doing?”
Zane’s eyebrows furrowed. “That’s what Bello told me, anyway, when I expressed my concern for my brother. She said she would make it a priority to rescue them… if I joined.” He cleared his throat and left suddenly to refill his goblet.
Mythia’s mind wandered over to the castle. Were they really going to storm in and break into the dungeons? She thought about going against the knights of Trigonus, an odd tugging pulling at the back of her mind. Why did her heart quicken at the very thought?
“I personally felt rather useless sitting around my house,” Krea said, breaking Mythia out of her reverie. Krea splashed a bit of her wine on her shirt then hiccupped and burped at the same time. “I have eight brothers, see, and I’m right in the middle. Each one of my older brothers had already joined the army. I figured it was my turn… also, the family food provisions are nice. Bello promises to keep the families of soldiers fed as long as they remain active.” Krea drained the last of her goblet, her eyes drifting over the rest of the room before landing on Mythia. “Nice to have another lady around for once.” Her eyes landed on Zane who was filling up his goblet across the room. “Rather cute, isn’t he?”
Mythia nearly spit out her wine. “Um, he seems nice.”
“Really nice. My mother was hoping I’d return home with a husband,” Krea laughed.
Eldrid spotted the two of them and sidled over in between the other men. “Ah, my two ladies. I suspect you are faring well?” They both nodded earnestly. “Good, good. If any one of these fellows give either of you trouble, report to me immediately. Bello insisted we allow both men and woman in, but I know that can cause some... interests…” Krea giggled. He turned to face Mythia directly. “My que-,” he cleared his throat excessively, “excuse me, my lady. Bestia. If you would have a private word.”
He pulled her away from Krea who casted a curious look upon the two. He guided her to the opposite corner by the crackling fire, the sound of laughter and murmuring conversations floating across the room. Mythia looked up at him expectantly.
His auburn eyes softened. “You did well today. Better than I would have expected someone of your status to do. Your father would be proud.” He smiled.
“You knew my father?” Mythia asked suddenly. Rather than feeling a sting of grief, she felt a sense of connection. Her father certainly seemed to be connected to the Rejicio in more ways than she would have ever guessed.
“I too was a knight of Trigonus.” He held himself up proudly. “We were knighted together, actually. I’m a unicorn, but I’ve always harnessed very slight gifts of the dragon. Your father found out. He was incredibly understanding about the whole thing… now I know why.” He beamed down at Mythia. “He helped me fake my own death so I could escape. I stumbled upon a Rejicio campsite and as soon as I learned of their nature, I knew that was where I belonged.”
Mythia sighed. “It appears a lot more of us belong here than I once realized.”
He nodded his head and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You do belong here, Mythia, and we’re glad to have you on our side.” Light from the flames reflected off his face, his auburn eyes boring into hers. “Welcome to the Rejicio Ar
my.” Her heart swelled with pride.
◆◆◆
King Tribus glowered down at his son, who was bent onto one knee in the counseling room, his head bowed. Two guards stood on either side of him, one hand on each shoulder.
“What say you for the crimes you have committed?” The king’s crimson cloak billowed behind him as he marched back and forth in front of the prince.
Regulus looked up at him, his emerald eyes unblinking. “I apologize for my actions, father. Clearly I was being a stubborn fool. I shall not allow my thoughts nor tongue slip in such a way again.”
“It pleases me to see you have opened your eyes to reason.” King Tribus stopped in front of him, his hands on his hips. His pupils appeared to shrink slightly to reveal the green of his eyes, so much like his son’s. “Stand up, Regulus.”
The prince stood straight; his jaw clenched. “You have my complete allegiance, father. Time spent in the cell made me realize the wisdom of your recent actions.”
“The prisoners pulled a ploy on you, pretending to be dead so you would call in a guard, did they not?”
“They did, sire. It was unwise of me to place trust in someone of their nature.”
The king pulled his lips back into a smile. “Good to have you back.”
Regulus nodded his head curtly. “What is my first course of duty, sire?”
“Lord Ulric is in the process of bringing back all the knights to Trigonus. It will be your duty to train them for battle.”
A mere flicker of a shadow crossed the prince’s face for a moment before regaining his pose. “Battle, sire?”
Tribus held his hands behind his back and peered toward the tall stained-glass windows depicting the phoenix, dragon, and unicorn. “It has been discovered that the Rejicio have created a large army; far more massive than our own. Clearly, they are meaning to start a war. We must be prepared for their arrival.”
“Certainly, sire.”
King Tribus casted his son a sideways look. “You should also know that the Doctrine and Lord Pileus have fled Trigonus with a couple of known donatus… They are now traitors and must be killed immediately upon sight. If you do happen to see them, you mustn’t let your old friendships get in the way.”
Regulus nodded his head quickly and bowed again. Tribus dismissed him with a wave of his hand and the prince walked swiftly out, his jaw clenched tight.
◆◆◆
Mythia placed her full goblet down on a table. She didn’t need anything else to make her sleepy, the exhaustion was already so overwhelming she felt as though she were in a dream, but she had one more thing to do before she could go to bed. The rest of the soldiers were so busy conversing, they didn’t notice her slip out of the house.
She marched swiftly across the cavern floor, passing Rejicio gathering up supplies and finishing up their work for the evening. No one paid her any mind, and it was a wonderful feeling. She jogged up the stairs, her thighs screaming at each step and skipped across the bridge. Reaching the white round door, she knocked three times.
It was flung open almost immediately. Hands pulled her into a hug and swung her around. She didn’t need to see their face to know who it was.
“Good evening Titus!” She laughed as he lowered her down. The Doctrine and Lord Pileus both stood silently in the kitchen and gave the queen a quick bow. Ustrina sat at the table and smiled warmly up at her, but it did not reach her eyes. Mythia noticed the solemn air. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
“Bello told us we weren’t allowed to see you till your training was complete,” Titus blurted out.
Mythia shrugged. “She probably says that about every recruit.”
“No, she doesn’t, Mythia. Soldiers are allowed to go where they want and see who they please, once they’re done for the day,” Titus explained.
Pileus sighed. “Even the knights of Trigonus have more leniency. I feel as though-”
“We’ve gone from one tyrant to another,” the Doctrine finished. “Mythia, did Bello say anything that stood out to you as strange?”
Mythia reeled her thoughts backward, the day felt as though it had lasted weeks. “Something the other recruits said about her… it was like she promised them all the things they needed most if they joined the army.”
“That’s right, she does tend to do that,” Titus remarked. “It’s no mystery how she had gotten so many Rejicio to join. Also, the fact that they seem to have no standards about letting anyone in… no offense,” he added quickly, looking at Mythia. She shrugged.
Pileus nodded his head. “In Trigonus you must be first born into nobility, and then pass an extensive test, before you can even consider becoming a knight. And… you have to be of a certain age and specifically male…”
“Did Bello say anything to you, Mythia?” the Doctrine asked.
“She gave me a private lesson with the sword after supper. She wants me to continue them every night. She did say something a bit odd though…” Mythia frowned. “That I was to eventually lead the Rejicio army into war and… take my rightful place at the throne…”
Titus walked over to Ustrina and stroked her long, white blond hair. “Have you seen anything, my love? Or had any dreams?”
Ustrina’s glowing blue eyes grew wide as she looked up at her husband, her face appeared pale in the flickering torchlight. “Something is changing.” Her eyes seemed to shine more brightly as they turned toward Mythia. “In you.” Mythia swallowed. Everyone held their breaths as Ustrina slowly closed her eyes, a shudder running through her, her strangely soft voice speaking in rythm. “For within the queen there slowly wakes, a snarling beast, its prey it takes… in memories, in faces… those she knew well. Until there is nothing left… an empty crown… an empty shell.”
Ustrina’s head drooped down suddenly as though she fell asleep, then her whole body slid off the chair. Titus yelled her name, but she did not wake. She lay on the ground, her limbs trembling, until she was convulsing with spasms. Mythia stood horrified, Titus clasped a hand to his mouth with tears filling his eyes.
The Doctrine knelt down to feel her forehead. “She’s burning with fever… Pileus, bring over the bucket of water and a cloth.” Pileus nodded his head and immediately did as told. The Doctrine grabbed the cloth and plunged it into the bucket before laying it across Ustrina’s forehead. She continued to convulse, rattling against the wooden floor.
Titus clutched desperately at her hand and held it to his mouth. “How did this happen? Has the sweating sickness returned?” He gulped. The sweating sickness had overtaken the kingdom years ago, claiming the lives of many, including Mythia’s mother.
The Doctrine dipped the cloth back into the bucket, rung it out, and laid it on Ustrina’s head again. “I don’t know, Titus. We will have to wait and see if anyone else gets sick. If not… the fever may be indicating an infection somewhere within her.”
“Is there anything I can do, Doctrine?” Pileus pleaded.
“Yes. Go to the meadow and gather as much tanacetum parthenium as you can- or feverfew, as some call it. It is a white flower with a dozen petals and a large, yellow center. Although in this season, there may be none left…”
Mythia looked desperately at Ustrina whose convulsions seemed to be slowing down. A sheen of sweat covered her face. “I know feverfew, I’ll go with him. But if there isn’t any more in the meadows… we’ll have to visit the marketplace in Trigonus- I’ve seen some there before.”
“Just do whatever you need to do,” Titus whispered, never taking his eyes off Ustrina. Her body was now still. Too still, Mythia thought.
Pileus grabbed two cloaks hanging on a coat rack and threw one to Mythia. “We’ll make our way to the fields closest to Trigonus in case we need to visit the city. But we must hurry, it’ll be half a day’s journey at least.”
The Doctrine continued mopping Ustrina’s forehead. “I will do all I can to keep her safe until you return. Be careful.” His blue eyes landed on Mythia as she threw the hood of the dark cl
oak over her head. Without hardly a goodbye, she followed Pileus out of the house. Her body felt like it was filled with lead, but the thought of Ustrina laying on the floor in such stillness pushed her to the stables, onto her black horse, and out into the crisp night air.
9. THE EMPTY CROWN
It was a cloudy night, not a single ray of light from stars or moon shined down upon them. Good for coverage, Lord Pileus thought to himself with a nod. He pulled at the reins of the brown and white horse he had borrowed from the Rejicio to catch up with Mythia. Her black steed burst with energy the moment it was free from the stables, running much faster than his. He watched as she galloped ahead, her chestnut hair billowing behind her, the hood from her cloak fallen. She was determined and fierce in the night… beautiful. Everything a good queen should be. He sighed as he watched, remembering the day of her wedding. The day his best friend, Regulus, lived up to the knight’s code more than ever before with his pure selflessness. But after all that had happened… did Regulus still love her? Yes, he thought to himself. A love that pure never falters. I would stake my life on it… but does she love him?
He pushed his horse forward until he caught up with her and bowed his head slightly. Even out here, with all pretenses forgotten about, he still showed the respect and honor he had vowed to upkeep to his queen. No matter what happened, he was determined to never stray away from the knight’s code.
“You must be tired,” he said casually.
Mythia casted him a sideways look. “I was. I’ve been ready to collapse since this morning’s training. But not anymore. I’m too worried about Ustrina.”
Mythia: and the Awakened Beast Page 11