The Wood Cutter's Son

by Thomas Wright

  “It has been a long time, My Lord. I’m Cecilia, wife of the lumber merchant Warren. You gifted us the land near Talons Station. This is my daughter, Gabriella.”

  Michael looked up at the dragon and the tall woman, then back to Cecilia. He did remember her. He knew Warren on sight, but hadn’t seen any of his family in a very long time. He realized he was staring. “I’m sorry, Cecilia, for not recognizing you. I’m confused and overwhelmed at the moment.”

  “It’s understandable, My Lord. I am still uncomfortable myself, but the lady Crystal has been true to her word and the beast behind us has been nothing but kind.”

  “Kind? Not a word I would give to a dragon.”

  “We flew here on the beast’s back. At first I thought we would die a horrible death falling from the sky, but we soared like the birds and could see the world below. It was beautiful.”

  The dragon turned its head and snorted. It even looked like it smiled.

  “As you can guess,” the king said, “This is not the way I pictured my journey home to the capitol today would go. I can tell you I’m not as calm as you are right now. Forgive my manners. How are Warren and the boys? I haven’t seen the boys since they were small.” The two women looked immediately looked pained and the tall woman wrapped her arm around Cecilia’s shoulders.

  “Warren and the boys are dead, Your Highness. We were told it was the goblins. They had been raiding along the frontier and our towns on the border. They killed them on the elven land while they were working. Crystal told us our youngest boy, Morgan, was taken to the Northlands as a captive.”

  Michael looked to Crystal, who stared him right in the eyes. He was saddened and angry and as he stood there he realized he was intimidated. He couldn’t bring himself to order her to speak. Cecilia came to the rescue.

  “Highness, are you ok?” she asked. Michael still felt small under the tall blue woman’s gaze. When he didn’t answer, Cecilia continued. “Crystal brought us here, but we are unsure why. She told us she was taking us to a safe place, but gave us no more information than that. I trust her, but will have to leave it to her to explain.”

  “Walk with me, King, and be at ease. You told your captain true. Had I wanted you dead, you would be no more than ash on the wind. I am Crystal, queen of the water elementals and I now walk this land again.” Michael found himself walking along with her, just as she had commanded.

  “Forgive me, while I remember elementals from my studies as a boy, we were taught they all abandoned Torinth, much like the dragons. What are your intentions, Queen Crystal?”

  “My intentions?”

  “Do you intend to conquer the Southlands—or Torinth, for that matter?”

  “Of course not. During our time thousands of summers ago, we were never conquerors. We lived among the people and taught them the ways of the land, water, and sky.”

  “We?”

  “The others still sleep, King, but they are not gone. I do not have time to teach you your history. We have another matter to discuss then I must be on my way.”

  “Forgive me. Of course there is a reason that brought the three of you here.”

  Crystal’s clothes moved around her, but there was no breeze. Magic. That is what the elementals were. Magical spirits of the elements.

  “I will explain. Understand you need not do anything I say. I do not demand anything from you. I only ask that you take Cecilia and Gabriella and keep them safe. It could possibly save your life.”

  “What do you mean? What is going to happen?”

  “They are hard workers and will be no burden. Find them a place and let them serve you,” she said, ignoring his questions.

  “Can’t you tell me what you’re talking about?”

  “No. I must go. Dra’Extaral wishes to go home now. He gets unhappy when he is away from his mountain for too long and he is hungry. Take the women with you and decide on the way. Goodbye, King.”

  “Michael. My name is Michael.”

  “I know,” she said and walked toward the dragon. Michael remained a few paces behind her. The women embraced the tall, beautiful creature who had mysteriously entered their life then watched with the king as Crystal leaped and landed on the dragon’s back.

  “I will see them safe. I owe it to Warren.” The dragon reared and took to the sky, almost knocking Michael and the women off their feet.

  “She should warn you when she is going to do that.” Michael watched the dragon and its elemental rider depart. First threats from the north, now the family remnants of an old friend. He would tell his councilors everything, but there would be no debate now. The soldiers would be on the road by morning.

  “Ladies, if you would join me in the carriage. Captain, we must make haste. Send two riders ahead to notify the generals and councilors we meet tonight and will work through dinner.”

  “Should we tell them why, sire?”

  “Only that I command it. That is reason enough.”

  Michael, Cecilia and Gabriella no sooner sat down than the carriage took off at a brisk pace. “Tell me about Crystal and the dragon,” he said. “Everything you know, no matter how small the detail.”

  *****

  The remainder of the journey north to the keep called Kor’Tarnaeil passed without incident. Forest in the south gradually gave way to scrub crowned in frost every morning, while the earth became more and more unyielding. The road north was hard, rocky and uninteresting, not to mention cold and dreary. The journey felt twice as long than it truly was and then, mercifully, the end was in sight. In the distance the road was swallowed by a gate that led into the dark, foreboding home of the Queen of the Northern Wastes.

  Unlike the lively and beautiful Thor’Dunae in the majestic forest at the base of the Black Mountains, Kor’Tarnaeil was dreary, cold and worn. It wasn’t to say the fortress wasn’t impressive. Only the dread he felt kept him from being impressed. Crystal had told him not to escape with Alexis while they traveled, but to complete the journey north.

  He had decided to keep his distance from Alexis after thinking about what Crystal had said to him. It was the best way to avoid any conversation with her about her plan to free him. Theralin, being kind, let him sleep in her tent at night, which he felt proved to be a further deterrent to his plan. He didn’t think Alexis would enter the elf captain’s tent after dark uninvited. He felt bad, true enough, but it had to be that way. If he got the chance later, he would explain to her why he was keeping her at a distance and he hoped she would understand, but doubted it.

  After departing the Black Mountains, Morgan had had a lot of time to think. The Northerners tried to engage both Morgan and Alexis on many occasions during the journey with small talk, but failed. He felt bad about it because he liked the dwarf and orc chiefs and thought he had earned a small portion of respect in their eyes. Jarol had been kind, too, but none talked of freeing him or opposing Theralin in her claim to make him her slave. As the journey progressed, he found it made him angry that he liked them but they did nothing for his situation. No, they were not friends.

  Theralin had found fault with his sullen attitude and threatened him on a few occasions on different matters, but he just smiled at her, daring her to do her worst. He liked to irritate his master on a small scale, but at the same time he did everything she told him to. He also thought that she wasn’t always as mad as she let on. He had been a recipient of her anger on a few occasions in the past, and the latest examples seemed weak in comparison. He saw no reason to complain, though. Now the journey was over, their destination in sight.

  A rider met them on the road just outside the gate, carrying a message from the queen to report immediately to the great hall. Jarol sent him back with word that they would be there after tending to their horses. The hawk Jarol had sent to the queen with his message about the treaty came swooping in and landed on its side of the perch on the back of Jarol’s mount. Jarol whistled and both hawks flew happily away, doing a playful dance on the wind.

  Guard
s greeted them respectfully at the gate as they rode in and made their way to the stables. Kor’Tarnaeil was like Thor’Dunae, where almost all the citizens lived inside the protection of the walls. The walls here, he noticed, were much higher than those in the southern city and it made Morgan wonder what they were trying to keep out. The closer they came to their destination, the quieter everyone became. In the relative silence, Morgan heard Alexis ask Jarol to make an introduction for her right as they entered.

  The great hall of Kor’Tarnaeil was nothing like the elven hall he had seen in the south. Though it was daylight, this one was lit with torches. It was smoky, cold and dark. It smelled of unwashed bodies, which had to be bad if Morgan smelled them over himself and his companions, who hadn’t bathed in days. A giant hearth adorned the wall behind the throne where Queen Verlainia sat waiting.

  Theralin grabbed Morgan’s arm just above the elbow and whispered for him to stand by her side and keep his mouth shut. If he was addressed or insulted, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t to speak. She would answer any questions or conversation directed at him. They worked their way through the crowd. Every race Morgan knew of was represented. The crowd consisted of groups—some the same race, some mixed—all bearing expressions that ranged from pleased to indifference to anger. Morgan just wanted it to be over so he could move on to the captain’s home and begin his life as a servant. He found she called him a servant when she was happy and a slave when she wasn’t. It was all the same to him.

  They stepped in front of the crowd at the foot of the throne. The queen was young and beautiful and not what he expected. Her eyes roamed from person to person and then landed on him. He looked left, then right, and nobody moved or said a word. Looking forward again, she was still looking at him so intently it made him grin and look away. He didn’t know why he was amused and hoped when he looked back she would be staring at someone else. Thankfully, she was.

  Two giant orcs—twins, he realized—stood behind her smiling, not at him, though. A moment of study and he found they smiled at Trobar. They were his sons or nephews, he thought. An elf was chained to the throne by a collar around his neck. Morgan wondered the last time he had been fed. Clothes hung from his bony frame and stringy hair lay over empty sunken eyes. It was beyond his understanding why such a beautiful queen would want to keep such a prisoner next to her and not imprisoned elsewhere to waste away.

  Jarol greeted the queen and had started to introduce Alexis when an elf drew his sword and attacked. Morgan wasn’t sure who he was after, Jarol or Alexis, since they stood next to each other. There was no time to yell. He jerked his arm free of Theralin and lunged to intercept. Morgan’s sudden movement drew Jarol’s attention. The elf hadn’t expected anyone to interfere and wasn’t prepared, making his sword stroke awkward. Morgan got inside the swing. The elf’s arm, instead of his blade, hit Jarol’s shoulder.

  Grabbing the elf behind the neck, Morgan pulled him forward. Their heads butting together made him see spots. The elf recovered before Morgan, who stumbled back, fleeing the reach of his sword. Something hit him in the back of the head. He tried to turn and was struck again. Then his world went black.

  Twenty-One

  Jarol didn’t give Ellitholm time to recover. He saw Morgan hit from behind by Systhania. Ellitholm moved to take advantage and take Morgan’s head as he lay unconscious. Jarol yelled at the elf in hope he would stop and turn. He wanted the elf facing him when his end came. Ellitholm turned to defend a moment too late. He blinked and Jarol’s blade skimmed the top of the elf’s shoulders, embedding in his neck. His sword clanged on the stone floor. Jarol smiled and pulled the blade out slowly, the edge cutting deeper into flesh and bone. A flick of the wrist and the tip laid the elf’s throat open.

  He had planned on killing the elf, but not immediately. Then again, it seemed Lord Ellitholm was looking to immediately dispose of him—if it weren’t for Morgan. Jarol quickly scanned the crowd for more enemies. He found Raile smirking but making no threatening moves. Systhania was on guard, expecting to be attacked, which was reasonable. But she was not threatening.

  “Systhania,” Queen Verlainia said. “You will need to notify Lord Ellitholm’s heir of his sudden demise. You will also inform the clan that there will be no retribution. If an attempt is made on my general, I will remove the whole family line and a new family will become the noble house for the Elf Clan.”

  “My Queen,” Raile started. “I would like seek justice against him.” Raile pointed at Morgan. “I received a bird from Berhart, telling me my son had been attacked by that slave. The slave tried to rape my daughter. Tarin had been looking for her when he jumped him, beating him before he could protect himself.”

  “That is a lie,” Theralin yelled. “He was defending himself and your daughter from your son.”

  “Jarol, what do you have to say?” Verlainia asked.

  “There is no one present here who witnessed what happened. It is true they fought and Tarin got the worst of it.”

  “Captain Theralin.”

  “Yes, My Queen.”

  “He stood with you and you defended him. I assume you have taken him as your slave.”

  “That is correct.”

  “Captain, you know we cannot allow a slave to attack a noble regardless of the reason.”

  “Yes, My Queen.”

  “Qan, bring him and put him in the collar. I will speak to him later and then decide how long he will keep me company.”

  Jarol shook his head and the others looked equally disappointed or angry. Qan grabbed Morgan under the arms, pulled him up the steps and began fastening the metal collar around his neck. “Jarol, I believe you were about to introduce the lovely young elf standing next to you.”

  “Queen Verlainia, may I introduce Princess Alexis, daughter of King Illiand and Queen Esmirelda. She has been sent to you as ambassador from the Black Mountain Kingdom.”

  “Ambassador to my kingdom.” Verlainia laughed. “You must have done something to make them very angry with you.”

  “I think just being born made them angry with me.”

  “Ah yes, you are the third princess. You are welcome here, Princess Alexis. You will find my kingdom is nothing like Thor’Dunae. I will have my servants see to your needs. You and I will speak later about the treaty, after I have had some time to speak with my people.”

  “Thank you, Queen Verlainia.”

  “It is good to have you all back. Tomorrow we meet one last time before you march.”

  *****

  Morgan woke to find a collar around his neck. He reached up and touched it, then remembered seeing it and the chain attached to the queen’s throne. It was quiet and dark; his eyes were trying to adjust. He rubbed the back of his head, remembering that someone hit him. His eyesight continued to clear and then he saw the queen staring at him. Amused and smiling, she stepped from behind the throne. He stood and faced her with an overwhelming desire to wipe the expression for her face.

  “You’ve had it rough lately, young man,” Queen Verlainia said.

  “No thanks to you,” Morgan replied. She made a slight motion and the slack in the chain rose off the floor and floated over to her hand. Morgan was not ready for what came next. She jerked the chain and he flew toward her, then, with a motion of her hand, he found himself lying across the arms of the throne like a child about to receive punishment. From there, he looked down at the body of the elf who even in the dark looked worse than he had earlier. He thought the elf was dead.

  “You don’t want to end up like him, do you?”

  Morgan was about to answer when he saw the body move. “He is still alive?”

  “He is. I feed him just enough to keep his heart beating. But you haven’t answered me. Do you wish to end up like him?”

  The husk of an elf slowly opened his eyes. Morgan saw nothing in them. No life at all. “No, I believe I would like to stay exactly the way I am.” He stared into the emptiness of the two black holes, then closed his eyes, afraid he woul
d get sucked into the void.

  “In the future, then, do not speak to unless I ask you a question. If someone is foolish enough to ask you a question, you look to me for permission before you answer. You are fortunate no one heard you address me in such a manner.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry, what?”

  “Huh?”

  “Address me properly before I lose my patience.”

  “I’m sorry, Your Highness, Queen Verlainia.” She placed her hand on his back, then his legs gave out, his body collapsing onto the floor like day-old porridge. His head hit the stone and spots danced before his eyes.

  “That, man-child, is but a touch of my power brushing against your life force. A brief taste for the both of us. Though I doubt you enjoy it the way I do,” Verlainia said and laughed. “Get up and kneel before me.”

  Morgan struggled to his knees and tried to stand, but his head swam from the fall and the magic. He steadied himself with the arm of the throne and remained kneeling. “In front of me at my feet. Do you know nothing of respect?”

  “Evidently, I don’t,” Morgan answered. Staying on his knees, he tried to navigate the steps, but his head still rode waves of nausea. He fell and rolled until his body was halted by the chain attached at his neck. He crawled back to the first step and then paused at the second.

  “Lesson two. Never stand in my presence unless I ask you to.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “Morgan, that is your name, yes? You will come now and kneel by my side.”

  “I was just kneeling there... Your Highness,” Morgan blurted and the pain began again.

  “Foolish. Though I will enjoy your company as long as it lasts.”

  *****

  The first day turned into a week. Since that first day, Morgan hadn’t seen any of the party that took him from his homeland. The queen met with them in a more private setting to plan their war. It took two days before he learned to control his tongue and smile instead, keeping his wit and anger to himself. He found the queen didn’t punish him for smiling—at least, not yet. He spent his time thinking about his mother and sister, Alexis and Railia, even Captain Theralin and Jarol.