Lady Squire- Dawn's Ascension

by Leonard D. Hilley II

  The two guards rushed him, but Dwiskter flung himself over a thick hedgerow into the Royal Gardens. A half dozen arrows zipped through the spot where he had stood moments before. Lying on his back, he snapped the arrow shaft with a groan and gritted his teeth tightly. In the shadows between the hedges and the building wall, he waited. No more arrows sliced through the air, but the two guards thrashed and beat along the hedgerow with their swords, probably hoping to frighten him from his hiding place.

  Dwiskter glanced toward the rooftop. He couldn’t have found a better place to leap. At least he was out of the archers’ view. He crawled quickly, in spite of the arrow shaft stuck in his shoulder. The gnawing pain increased each time he placed pressure on it to move, but he’d rather suffer the agony of his injury than to lose his life. And he didn’t plan to die yet. He needed to warn Queen Taube. Although he had struck the warning bell three times, he wanted to save her before it was too late.

  A sword chopped through a hedge, just inches above his head. The dwarf rolled onto his back and saw the Hoffnung traitor loom overhead. Due to the dark shadows of the settling night, the guard didn’t see Dwiskter lying at his feet.

  Realizing he still held the jagged arrow shaft, Dwiskter waited. The guard took a step over the dwarf, and at that moment, Dwiskter thrust the shaft up through the man’s groin. The guard took a deep gulp of air, dropped his sword, and fell forward on the ground, clutching himself. His wide eyes revealed his shock and that the severe wound was moments from claiming the traitor in death.

  The guard gasped for air. His eyes focused on Dwiskter.

  Dwiskter pushed himself into a seated position, raised his ax, and while looking at the dying man, he asked, “Aye, was it worth it, lad? To have the greatest queen in all of Aetheaon and to betray her kindness, you should suffer longer than you will. I have no sympathy for the likes of you.”

  Dwiskter spat at the guard.

  The guard opened his mouth to reply, but he couldn’t force out any words. The pain was that severe. Dark blood pooled beneath the man. Life slowly faded from the guard’s eyes.

  Dwiskter had seen his fair share of death on various battlefields in Aetheaon and other lands across the seas, but this was the first man he was actually proud to see die at his hand. There was nothing else he despised more than a traitor.

  Once he was certain the guard was dead, he scooted back to the hedge, turned, and crawled further into the shadows. Stepping back out onto the street proved to be a dangerous feat. The other guard was probably still searching along the hedgerow, looking for him. The archers were sided with Lord Waxxon, and another band of bowmen might be repositioning on the castle balconies, trying to spot him. He didn’t have any way to know how many of the patrolling guards remained faithful to Queen Taube.

  His heart ached at the shock of knowing Lord Waxxon was responsible for the scheme to overthrow the throne, but what he didn’t understand was why Waxxon would team with the Vykings from the Isles of Welkstone. What prevented them from overthrowing him after the kingdom fell? And if they did, it was the least Waxxon deserved.

  Dwiskter placed his hand against his wounded shoulder. Warm blood coated his fingers. The blood seemed to be coagulating and the wound did not appear life threatening, for now. However, the more he fought and moved about, the more likely it was to stretch the puncture wound, which could possibly cause him to bleed to death.

  Metal boots scrapped the cobblestone street on the other side of the hedgerow where he hid. The dwarf held his breath for a few seconds. There was no pause in the footsteps. The person continued on down the street.

  Dwiskter rose to his feet and crept along the hedges, careful to watch the rooftops for archers. Due to his injury, he left his shield behind but kept a firm grip on the ax. He was strong enough to heave it with his one good arm.

  Several lamps glowed in the distance, and if he were able to get there, he’d be close to the broad street that divided the Royal Gardens and led to the palace gates. However, should he reach the gates, he worried that he’d never get through to warn the queen. And even if he did, he might already be too late. There was only one way for him to find out.

  “Keep moving,” he whispered to himself.

  Chapter Three

  Weary from a day of listening to petty quarrels in her royal courtroom, Queen Taube leaned back in her gold-embroidered alabaster throne and closed her eyes. She neared sleep, and her mind drifted to her daughter, Dawn. She shook her head to awaken herself. She wanted to hurry to their chambers before her eighteen-year-old daughter fell asleep.

  Taube was the most elegant queen to ever reign over Hoffnung. Half human and half elf, she led her people with kindness, wisdom, and integrity. The city thrived in prosperity, and she had done something that no other ruler before her had ever achieved—she brought the majority of the kingdoms in Aetheaon to peace.

  Nearing sleep, her eyes focused on the tapestry on the castle wall. The images brought back painful memories. Things she longed to keep buried.

  Widowed, after the last war against the Snowloch Dredgemen in the northern territory ten years earlier, she garnered support from the neighboring kingdoms of Legelarid, Damdur, and Woodnog. They joined her army to drive back the bloodthirsty Dredgemen and almost drove the demonoids to extinction. When the battle ceased at the ice caverns in Snowloch, they discovered a cache of gold and silver bars the Dredgemen had smelted from their mined ore. But strangely, the Dredgemen disappeared without a trace.

  Each of the three armies that had aided Hoffnung divided the spoils. Wagons loaded down with gold and silver bars were carried to each kingdom.

  Although Taube had lost her husband, Erik, she had gained tribute from the neighboring kingdoms. War was never discussed or rumored. The time for peace settled over the land, which to her was the greatest treasure of all.

  From her share of the precious treasures, she had adorned her throne room with a gold-embroidered tapestry along the wall that depicted the final battle with the Dredgemen and marked her vengeance for King Erik’s death. Each day she held court, the tapestry was the first thing her eyes looked upon, letting her know that justice had prevailed.

  Outside in the courtyard, the alarm bell rang three times and echoed throughout Hoffnung. Queen Taube rose from the throne. Her bright blue eyes lost their royal confidence and suddenly filled with worry. Her golden hair flowed down her shoulders like smooth shimmering silk. The pointed tip of her elven ears peaked through, which was the only physical quality she possessed that revealed half her heritage came from the Elves of Woodnog.

  With her stately defined posture, she elegantly stepped down from her throne. Guards lined both sides of the throne room. Dressed in full mail, the soldiers stood at attention and quickly drew their swords.

  “We’re under attack!” she said to the guardsmen, pointing toward the tall courtroom doors. “Secure the doors! Quickly!”

  The five guards closest to the throne turned their backs to the throne and formed an armored human wall to protect their queen. While they moved to keep her safe, the remaining dozen guards rushed the throne.

  Shocked, Taube’s eyes widened with fear and disbelief.

  “What is the meaning of this?” she asked, backing around the side of her throne.

  The captain of the palace guard, Artos, raised his sword and pointed it at her. “Yield yourself and serve Lord Waxxon as Hoffnung’s new king or your life ends here.”

  “What?” Queen Taube asked. “Artos, have you gone mad?”

  “Submit yourself to him and you will live,” he replied coldly. His dark eyes fixed upon hers.

  Her eyes narrowed with fury. “Serve Waxxon? Never!”

  Artos pointed a stern finger toward her. “Guards, kill her! And Lady Dawn as well!”

  At the mention of her daughter’s name, Taube fled from behind the throne and rushed for the curtained door at the back of the courtroom that led to her chambers. Swords and battle-axes clashed as she moved toward the spiral s
tairwell. Two of her faithful guards died within seconds. The other three fought valiantly, trying to hold the men back, but they were greatly outnumbered. She had little time to escape.

  The thought of any harm coming to her daughter caused Taube to run harder. Her long golden hair flowed behind her with each frantic step she took. She ran up the stairs to get to Dawn’s bedchambers.

  Before she vanished into the stairwell, she dared a glance back. The remaining three guards that had stood to protect her were now dead. The dozen loyal to Waxxon scrambled past the throne and headed for the stairwell.

  Queen Taube ran up the spiral stairwell. She yelled, “Nessa! Protect Dawn!”

  The queen’s long royal gown tangled around her left foot. She tripped and quickly flung her hands to break the fall, catching herself only inches before she’d have smashed her face against the polished stone stair. Her jeweled golden crown hit the stairs, clanged, and rolled downward.

  Mail rattled and rustled at the foot of the stairs as the guards shoved against one another to get onto the stairs. Metal boots scraped the stone floor. The armored soldiers moved swifter than she had expected. If she didn’t hurry, they’d be on her before she could get Dawn to safety. Taube pushed herself up and grabbed the banister. Her feet were moving again before she even realized it. The armor of the dozen guards clattered behind her as they pursued.

  They were much broader than she and the stairwell was narrow, which slowed them down enough that she rounded to the next floor well ahead of them. She headed to her daughter’s door. It was locked. She placed the metal key into the lock and turned it. Seconds later, she shoved the heavy wooden door inward. The thick door gave her some time, but not much.

  Taube shoved the door shut and dropped the bolt latch into place. She turned and said, “Nessa? Where are you?”

  “In the linen closet,” Nessa replied, pushing the door slightly open.

  “Where’s Dawn?”

  “She’s here with me.”

  Queen Taube sighed and placed a hand over her heart. “Thank the goddesses!”

  Taube opened the door wider and stepped inside the closet. Her daughter’s brown eyes, identical to King Erik’s, stared into hers. Taube couldn’t believe that eighteen years had already passed. Taube gently moved her daughter’s long brown hair to the sides of her face. Her daughter stood before her a woman. Where had the time gone? Her mind raced back to when Dawn was a baby cradled in her arms. Tears tugged at Taube’s heart, but she resisted allowing them to form. In the time of crisis, a queen must remain stronger than granite.

  Nessa’s wrinkled hand gripped Taube’s forearm. The elderly woman’s worry showed in her eyes, her furrowed brow, and in her trembling fingers. She said, “We heard the courtyard bell and the skirmishes inside your courtroom. Are we under attack?”

  “I don’t know what is happening. My guards turned on one another. Only about a third of them remained loyal to me. Those men are now dead. The others. They want to—”

  Queen Taube glanced at her daughter and didn’t finish the sentence. Lady Dawn was already panicked enough. In many ways, her daughter resembled a frightened child, much younger than her eighteen years, and her stature was short and thin like a young elf. She knew little about life outside the castle and knew only of peace, having never witnessed the ugliness of war. Her innocence was her greatest enemy. No sense increasing her worried daughter’s trauma until it was absolutely necessary.

  “My Queen,” Nessa said, “tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

  “Take Dawn through the hidden passageway. You must hide her where they can’t find her. Waxxon is a traitor, and these men serve him.”

  “Why?” Nessa’s gray eyes were wide with fear and uncertainty.

  Taube shook her head and said, “I don’t know. Be quick. Get her to safety.”

  “What about you?”

  “I will distract them.”

  Dawn’s eyes filled with tears. “No, mother. You must come with us.”

  Taube shook her head. “I cannot. They know I’m in here. If they get through the door . . .”

  An ax struck the center of the door with a massive thud and loud crack!

  Nessa clamped her hands over her mouth to silence her impending scream.

  “Go,” Taube said. “If I’m not in Dawn’s bedchambers when they come inside, they’ll search until they find this hidden passageway.”

  “Mother—”

  “Go, my child,” Taube said with a tired smile. “Everything will be okay. I promise.”

  Nessa gripped Dawn’s elbow and turned the young lady. Dawn looked over her shoulder, watching her mother as the maid led her to the narrow hidden door behind Dawn’s fanciest silk gowns. In all her years, Dawn had never known the doorway was there.

  Nessa unlatched the door and pushed inward. A cool dank wave of air spilled into the perfumed closet.

  “Hurry, child,” Nessa whispered.

  Axes battered against the thick bedroom door. Chips and splinters of wood skidded across the floor.

  Dawn’s feet refused to budge. She stared at her mother. Taube smiled and blew a kiss as she shut the closet door.

  “Go,” Taube whispered from the other side of the door.

  Nessa pulled Dawn ahead of her and then followed the Lady through. Nessa closed the door and fastened an inside latch.

  More wood splintered from the door. The axes hammered again and again.

  “I beseech you to renounce your loyalty to Lord Waxxon and surrender your weapons!” Queen Taube said, standing on the fur rug at the center of the bedroom. “It is all that will protect you from beheading!”

  Sneers and hearty laughter filled the outer hall from the men waiting for the door to collapse. The chopping axes didn’t cease. Angered eyes peered through the growing hole. They were men possessed with the hunger to kill. No amount of negotiating weakened that lust.

  Taube rushed toward the large open window and climbed up onto the ledge. The door crashed inward. Their mail armor and weapons clattered as they marched into the bedroom chambers. She turned and faced them.

  “One last chance,” Taube said. She placed a hand on each side of the window frame. Glancing down, she took a deep breath. The window overlooked the sea, but at this height and with the night settling in, she couldn’t see the water or jagged cliff rocks below.

  “Urtun, grab her before she jumps!” Captain Artos said with lust in his gaze as he looked Queen Taube over.

  Murder wasn’t the first thing on his mind.

  Not thrilled by the captain volunteering him, Urtun slowly set down his ax and shield, eyed Taube, and rushed toward her.

  Instead of the Queen tightening her grip on the window frame or jumping, she stood in the center of the open window and crossed her arms across her chest. As Urtun came closer, she edged her heels flush with the window’s ledge over the cliffside and waited.

  Urtun dashed forward, leapt upon the window ledge, and reached to grab her. At the last moment, Taube leaned forward, grabbed his leather neckband, and yanked him over the edge with her.

  The captain and his guards hurried to the window and looked down.

  Taube and Urtun screamed and wailed as they fell and disappeared into the darkness. The screams abruptly stopped.

  “Dammit,” Artos said, shaking his head. He removed his chain coif and placed it on a duskwood chest.

  The guard beside him shrugged and said, “What’s it matter? She’s dead.”

  Artos turned and glared at him. “Without a body, Lord Waxxon won’t be convinced. It’s as good as if we never killed her.”

  “No way she or Urtun survived that fall. Their bodies will wash up in the harbor in a day or so.”

  “We’d best hope,” Artos replied. “It’s more likely they struck the cliff wall, and if so, the vultures and crows will eat them. We won’t have any proof.”

  Artos glanced around the room. After sheathing his sword, he said, “Where’s Lady Dawn?”

  “No t
race of her.”

  “We must find and kill her. We have to show her body to Lord Waxxon. The last thing we need is for his wrath to turn on us.”

  Chapter Four

  Dawn sobbed when she heard her mother’s frantic scream. And blended with her shriek was a horrified man voicing his own desperate cry for help and his knowledge of his own impending death. Both fading shouts ended suddenly. Dawn tried hard not to think of her mother’s fate. The final moments of her life. She knew about the jagged rocks down the rugged cliffside.

  Dawn closed her eyes. Many a day she had sat on that windowsill watching magnificent birds of prey soar over the mountaintops while she read history tomes. During her breaks, she watched the huge wind-filled sails of trading ships as they glided on the vibrant sea below. Often she daydreamed of where those merchant ships might take her. What lands could she visit? What adventures could she experience differently than the books she read?

  She had listened to the crashing waves echo up from Hoffnung Bay, and never had she experienced anything other than serenity through that window. Until today.

  The piercing last scream of her mother falling out the window haunted her. Sickened by the shock, she leaned over to vomit.

  Nessa wrapped a caring arm around Dawn’s shoulders and squeezed her tightly for a moment. At the side of the stairwell, the old maid took an unlit torch from its sconce. From her pocket she produced a long match, struck it against the coarse rock wall, and brought the torch to full light.

  “Come, Lady,” Nessa said.

  “Is mother—?”

  Nessa shook her head and placed an index finger to her lips. She replied, “Stay strong. Nothing we can do, dearest Dawn. We must get you to safety. That was your mother’s command.”

  Her last command, Dawn thought. She felt sicker at her stomach, her heart ached, and she became extremely light-headed. She leaned against the wall to steady herself.

  Little red eyes reflected on the rough rock steps ahead of them as the light brightened the winding stairwell. The rats shrilled and scampered deeper into the catacombs. The flame of the torch singed and melted away most of the dusty cobwebs that draped across the narrow passageway. The remaining webs gripped and clung to Dawn and Nessa as they walked.