The Wood Cutter's Son

by Thomas Wright

  “Let’s start with two, one for each leg. And make sure the length is long enough to be lethal.”

  He smiled at her. “Your parents know you have arrived. I’ll go tell them you are making yourself presentable.”

  “Thank you, Uncle, for everything.”

  “Don’t thank me too much. There are things I haven’t told that you will learn when you see the king. One other thing I can tell you is that there is a party arriving from the north. The king and queen know who they are and why they seek an audience.”

  “You can’t tell me part and leave me in the dark on the rest,” Alexis said, giving her best pouty face.

  “I can, and I will. Besides, that face hasn’t worked on me since you were climbing trees in the palace garden.”

  “I’m still climbing trees. Does that count?”

  “No. Now hurry. Don’t keep them waiting too long.” He turned and hurried away before she could try something else to get the information from him. Tears would have done it and they both knew it; that’s why he hurried off.

  *****

  Morgan woke and found himself tied up and laid over a horse. His face and body ached and the ropes around his wrists had rubbed his skin raw as his arms bounced with each step the horse made. Thankfully, they were stopped. He remained quiet, listening to the conversation around him.

  “What do you suppose happened here? I have an idea, but what do you think?” he heard the man called General ask.

  “Isn’t it obvious? Someone started a fire to burn the bodies,” the dwarf Stonehead answered as if the general were an idiot.

  “No, Stonehead. Get off your ass and look.”

  “The fire has a pattern and direction. I think a dragon burned the goblins alive,” the elf captain Theralin answered. Morgan wanted to see for himself what the dragon had done. He rolled himself right off the back of the horse. The ground added to his list of pains, but he kept rolling so the horse wouldn’t kick him, then he struggled to his feet.

  “Don’t run. They will only catch you,” a voice he hadn’t heard before said. Her tone made it sound like she cared. Morgan didn’t get too far before the elven soldiers on horseback had surrounded him.

  “Bring him to me,” Theralin said. They were all standing in the road looking at a large area blackened by fire. Dragonfyre. He hoped it was Crystal’s dragon, the one she said he might meet one day.

  “Are ye daft, boy, to think you could run and get away?” Stonehead asked.

  “No, you ignorant dwarf. I couldn’t very well see what you were looking at with my face in the horse’s rump,” Morgan answered, marching past Stonehead with an elf holding each arm. They stopped him right in front of Theralin. He leaned in their grasp, trying to see more of the scene behind her. She reached up and grabbed his chin; squeezing it, she turned his face toward her.

  “You need to look at me and not concern yourself with what’s behind me.” Her tone told him she was ordering him. He began to laugh. A chuckle at first, then it got louder.

  “Shut up, she ordered.” But it only served to make him laugh more. Distracted by his behavior, the guards weren’t ready when he lunged forward, but not at Theralin. He pushed her out of the way, ran over to the closest charred body and kicked the head, which rolled into the wood. He stomped the body, cracking ribs and stirring up ash from the skin and clothing.

  Not satisfied, he stomped the goblin nearest to it, too. “The boy has lost his mind,” Stonehead said and Trobar grunted in agreement. Morgan heard him and stopped. He turned and faced the dwarf and began laughing again.

  “You should ride for the elven kingdom with as much haste as possible,” Morgan said in between chuckles. “And take me with you.”

  “And why would we ride as you suggest?” Theralin asked.

  “Because I’m going to start calling for the dragon to come and burn you all to ash—and me with you if that’s what it takes.”

  “He is mad. I’m sure of it now. As if he could call a dragon down on us.”

  “Woodcutter,” Morgan heard the general say. He turned to look at him. The general was smiling. “Go ahead, Railia.”

  “What does—” was all Morgan got out before pain exploded in his head and everything went black.

  *****

  “I don’t think he is going to like you either, Railia,” Jarol said heartily.

  “He didn’t see me hit him and hopefully won’t remember you used my name.”

  “Um, guess I shouldn’t have done that. But the good thing is he won’t be calling anything, not even a dragon, after us.”

  “You believe he could?” Theralin asked.

  “I’m not sure. He thinks he could and we know there is a dragon somewhere nearby. Just because he is acting a bit touched doesn’t mean he is lying.”

  “We need to keep him close,” Systhania said. “I have read some dragon lore, and if the dragon is indeed a friend to him, it will not kill him or us by fire. That is not to say it won’t try to eat us instead of burning us to ash, though.”

  “I think I like you better when you’re quiet, Systhania,” Jarol said getting on his horse. “Let’s get going. We can still arrive at the capitol before dark.”

  Thirteen

  Alexis walked into the small reception room where her father and mother were holding court. It was where they held court when the schedule contained matters of a more private nature. Alexis expected they would hold evening court there. Her return was not something that needed heralded in front of the nobility. The king and queen, her sisters and her uncle were all present, along with a scribe who would write any conversation that King Illiand and Queen Esmirelda had with anyone in the room. Her sisters’ betrothed stood off to the side of the room. They would greet her once they adjourned.

  She approached her father, who held out his hand. She bowed and kissed his knuckles, then stepped in front of her mother and repeated the gesture. Even in such an intimate setting with mostly family, the proprieties would be observed. Alexis hugged both her sisters, then stepped back in front of the king and queen.

  “Are you wondering why we asked the rangers to release you from service to return home to us?” Illiand asked.

  “It has crossed my thoughts a time or two, Father,” Alexis replied.

  “Your sister and her betrothed have asked to be mated within the next moon. We thought it would be better for you to spend the time here adjusting to life in the kingdom again.”

  “You should be seen at court, dear,” Esmirelda said. “Socializing with the young nobles will be good for you as you spend the next four moons before your mating getting to know Milandro better.”

  Alexis frowned. She caught herself and smiled, but both her parents saw it. “You do not agree?” Illiand asked.

  “It does not matter whether I agree or disagree, Your Highness.” Alexis clamped her mouth shut, fearing to say any more. The king started to retort, when the queen laid a hand on his arm. They locked eyes for a few breaths.

  “An envoy and his party from Queen Verlainia is arriving at the gates as we speak,” Esmirelda said. “Join us later in greeting them. There will be many familiar faces in attendance, including Milandro. I will send a servant to retrieve you. Until then, retire to your room and rest.” The queen smiled at her, but Alexis knew she had just been scolded and sent to her room. She turned to leave, noticing her sisters and their betrothed wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  Nafillion fell in beside her, walking her out. “That was brief. While you’re in your room, practice your facial expressions in front of the mirror. Work on aloof and nonchalant and practice saying yes, Your Highness, no, Your Highness.”

  Alexis sighed. “Yes, Uncle.”

  “Good. I must go prepare the reception. The items you requested should be in your room. Tonight might be a good time to wear them.”

  When she entered her room, a box sat on the bed. Inside, she found two knives in sheaths that wrapped around the leg. She held one and slid the knife all the way out. The bl
ade, guard and handle were all one piece: flat, flexible and unadorned. They were assassin’s blades meant to be hidden in sleeves, or skirts in her case. Weapons were not allowed near the king and queen, but no guards were going to check under her skirt. If trouble started, she would be ready for it.

  Standing in front of the mirror, Alexis hiked her skirt up and buckled both knives to her thighs, then smoothed out her skirt to see if they showed through the fabric. Satisfied that they didn’t, she smiled momentarily, thinking of the eyeful someone would have if she had to draw one or both. She sat down and brushed her hair, waiting for a servant to come get her. It wasn’t long before there was a knock on her door.

  “Princess Alexis, the guests are assembling in the great hall,” the servant said. “If you’re ready, I’ll escort you.”

  “Thank you. Lead the way,” Alexis answered, thinking it a waste of the servant’s time. She knew her home better than anybody.

  They walked in silence away from the living quarters to the great hall, staying in the main corridor. Alexis smelled the aroma of sweet pastries baking. She would have cut through the kitchens, had she been alone, and harassed the cooks for a taste here and there of anything they would give her. They always doted on their little princess, even after she grew up and wasn’t so little anymore. She would visit them tomorrow for breakfast.

  “What is your name?” Alexis asked. “I don’t remember seeing you working here before I left to take my post as a ranger.” Alexis thought it would be good to know a little more about the visitors and her betrothed. The servants always knew things, but that didn’t necessarily mean the information they had was true. Rumors and stories always seemed to grow the longer they made their rounds.

  “Phornalain, Princess,” she answered. “You are right. I was not in service to your family until mid-season last.”

  “Phornalain, have you heard anything about the party arriving this evening?”

  “Only what I heard in the kitchen. The staff was grumbling about having to cook for man, orc and dwarf. Then, later, Chamberlain Nafillion told them the menu. It is all elven dishes they’re to prepare.”

  “Nothing else? Just the menu?”

  “No, Princess, nothing else. Just that it can be nothing but grim tidings if the northern queen sent an envoy to see the king and queen.”

  “What of an elf named Milandro? Have you by chance seen him in court?” Alexis asked and was surprised when the servant looked elsewhere. That was answer enough, but the servant continued. “Yes, Lord Milandro is at court often, Princess.” Phornalain’s blush still covered her cheeks when the servant turned to look straight ahead.

  “I see. When did he become a lord? I have been away and missed much.”

  “I don’t know, Princess, but he instructed us to address him as lord.”

  “Phornalain, I can find my way from here,” Alexis said with a slight edge to her tone. “You are dismissed.” Alexis was not happy with Milandro claiming to be a lord. It was crime, though she felt nothing would be done about it.

  “But Princess, I was told—”

  “You’re going to question me? Get out of my sight.” It was for the servant’s own good. She didn’t want her around when she met with her Lord Milandro. She also didn’t like having an escort. The servant ran back down the hall. Alexis watched until she turned the corner, then resumed walking, happy to be alone so she could think.

  *****

  The northern delegation arrived at the main gate and were met by a royal guard and the stable master. Following them to the stables, Jarol noticed the guard giving Morgan the eye. Then the guard noticed Jarol watching him.

  “You have a prisoner? I will arrange for a cell in the palace dungeon,” the guard stated.

  “That won’t be necessary. We can tie him in a stable stall with the horse he is riding.”

  “We cannot allow a criminal to just be tied up in the stables.”

  “He is not a criminal, just someone we want to introduce to Queen Verlainia,” Jarol answered, keeping his tone even. The guard turned from him to Theralin with a disgusted look on his face.

  “Elf,” the elf guard said with more condescension in his tone. “This man does not understand.”

  “He understands perfectly. I am Captain Theralin of Queen Verlainia’s royal guard. Call me elf again in that tone—” Theralin’s hand went to rest on her sword.

  “Should’ve kept speaking with me. She gets her feelings hurt easily,” Jarol said, smiling at the guard. “Let us secure him here. It’s possible our visit will be very short. If it lasts more than an evening, we will make other arrangements. I will assign our soldiers to him tonight to make sure this peasant boy doesn’t hurt any of your highly skilled guards.” Jarol made sure there was some acid in his tone.

  The guard looked at Theralin. “Don’t look at me. He gives the orders. There is no one above him but our queen.”

  “One night,” the guard said. “Leave your things. As you said, your visit may be brief. If you are extended hospitality, you can retrieve them then. Now follow me. We are keeping the king and queen waiting.”

  They followed the guard, garnering looks from everyone they passed. It would have been nice to bathe before appearing in front of the king and queen, but such is the way of old grudges and hostilities. No one spoke, but all looked around, taking in the art, tapestries and sculptures that lined the walls on the way to the hall. They depicted battles, elves against every other race, with the elves always poised in victory over their foes.

  Jarol smiled to himself. If his knowledge of history was accurate, the elves had not won all the battles depicted around him. They approached a set of large doors that were guarded by four of the royal guards, two on each side. Unlike Queen Verlainia’s dark and chilly hall, in this hall light seemed to touch every corner. Four more guards met them and escorted them forward to stand shoulder to shoulder before the king. The king and queen sat on their thrones. Three other, less opulent, seats were lined up next the queen. The three princesses sat arranged by age, the youngest on the end.

  King Illiand looked like what Jarol expected a middle-aged elf would look like. What his father might look like had the disease not wasted him away. The king’s dark brown hair had small tufts of gray at each temple and his face presented small lines around his eyes. Queen Esmirelda looked like a more mature version of her oldest daughter. There was no gray in her blonde hair or lines of age on her face. He wondered if she practiced magic and used it on herself like Verlainia did to maintain such a youthful exterior. The two oldest daughters shared their mother’s blonde hair, while the youngest had hair a lighter shade of brown. A mixture of her mother’s and father’s, perhaps. Jarol stepped forward to address his hosts.

  “Good King Illiand and Queen Esmirelda, rulers of the Black Mountains, we have traveled here—”

  “I know why you traveled here,” Illiand said, interrupting Jarol. “And the answer is no.” Jarol was prepared for the interruption.

  “Oh, I see.” He turned and paced in front of his party, his hands clasped behind his back. “Of course, we knew there were spies within Queen Verlainia’s court. I couldn’t possibly get you to tell us your source, could I?”

  Illiand just stared at Jarol, likely thinking that it was the dumbest question he had ever heard. “Did your source tell you who I am? I understand that we aren’t being shown the hospitality you might extend to others, but introductions should at least be made. I am Jarol, general of the armies of the North. Also standing before you are two mighty clan chieftains, Stonehead of the dwarves and Trobar of the orcs. Berhart, second to clan leader Raile, and Raile’s children Tarin and Railia, are also with us.”

  Jarol left out naming two of their party on purpose. He hoped one of the royals would take the bait, as it was both the elves he failed to introduce. The youngest princess spoke up quickly.

  “It seems, General, that you have forgotten to introduce two of your party.”

  “Apologies. This is Th
eralin, Captain of the Queen’s Guard and my keeper.” Jarol said, motioning toward her. “Do I really need to introduce the last member, Your Highness?” he finished, turning toward the king. “I assumed Lord Ellitholm would have informed you of her name. No?”

  Jarol walked toward Systhania, who stood on the end. Jarol glanced at the king and saw something in his eyes, but the elf said nothing. Standing at an angle to her, he flourished his hands to indicate something grand. “And this—” Jarol made to turn toward the royals and in doing so struck Systhania, knocking her out and into the arms of Trobar, who caught her on reflex. “—is Systhania, Captain of Lord Ellitholm’s household guard. She is all yours, but I doubt any information you get from her will be of use. As you don’t wish to hear us out, we thank you and will take our leave.”

  Trobar looked askance at Jarol. “Leave her.” The room was silent as they started walking away. Jarol let the others get a few steps ahead of him then yelled over his shoulder, “I bet Ellitholm didn’t tell you about the gold and silver.” They made it a few more steps before he heard what he was hoping for.

  “Wait,” Queen Esmirelda called. “What gold and silver?”

  Jarol turned around to find the queen facing the king, who still stared straight ahead. He took a few steps back in their direction, coming to a stop at Systhania’s limp body.

  “Queen Esmirelda, the king does not know because Lord Ellitholm did not know. I would be willing to discuss everything, all the details, in private with you and your advisors if you would give us a chance.”

  The king turned to face the queen. Something passed between them and she straightened herself on her throne. “There is another matter which we shall discuss first, then we will see if any other matters should be discussed. Tell us about the murder of the lumber merchant and his sons.”

  *****

  Milandro was getting tired of waiting. He was going to be late for court. No one else had come into the inn and it seemed the man who came in last was about ready to leave. He watched him out of the corner of his eye for a second, then went back to staring into his full mug of ale. “Follow me and keep your mouth shut,” a voice said in his ear. When he turned, he saw the man who drank alone walking away, so he stood and quickly followed him out. When he exited the inn, the man said, “Stay five steps behind me and don’t look at or talk to anyone.”