Heart of a Kingdom

by Lisa Bain

  His body was shriveled, and he looked more skeleton than human. His breathing was labored and rattled. He was looking at her, but his beautiful hazel eyes were a solid yellow. She could feel a scream start in her belly at the same time blood came pouring out of his mouth, yellow eyes just staring at her in accusation, blaming her for his death. She was still cold, but felt a warm wetness spreading across her chest. She looked down to see blood pouring out of her mouth and running down her body. The screaming that started in her belly was lost in a gurgle as she drowned in her own blood.

  She woke up to the sound of her screams still hanging in the air and weapons being drawn as her Ladies-in-Waiting sprang into action to defend their Queen.

  Since their official title was Ladies-in-Waiting, or LIW for short, those not from their kingdom might assume the LIWs were tea-drinking frilly dress-wearing ladies. That couldn’t be further from the truth. The Ladies-in-Waiting were an ancient order of female knights, and a group of elite warriors. On more than one occasion a Royal Knight got his rear handed to him by a LIW, including John Morgan. When he’d first arrived in the Kingdom, he thought it was funny to refer to them as Lulu Belles, playing off the sound of the acronym LIW. They’d quickly expressed their discontent with the nickname, and he now only referred to them as The Ladies.

  Unlike the knights, the LIWs stayed at the palace in shifts. They were the immediate bodyguards of the royal family, as well as the Queen’s advisors and trusted friends. Since the universe likes balance in all things, there were ten LIWs, to mirror the knights, with one junior LIW, Dyanna Chaney, Libby’s niece. Like the knights, each LIW was appointed, but in this case the Queen had the final decision. Sean did background checks on all of them, but even the King didn’t have an official say in the matter.

  The day of the attack the Queen had moved to the neighboring bedroom to accommodate all the wizards and doctors tending to the King, so at least there wasn’t a large audience. When the LIWs on duty realized it was another nightmare, there was awkward silence. They were the Kingdom’s fiercest warriors and her best friends, but they didn’t know what to say. Nothing in their training had prepared them for this scenario.

  Larra wordlessly handed the Queen a flask of uisce beatha, the faery whiskey that literally translated as water of life. Mortals knew it better as whiskey, although the magical version was a hell of a lot more powerful. After a hearty swig the Queen collapsed, sobbing into her pillows. She’d seen the future in her dream. She’d felt the truth of it, although it would be some time before she’d accept it. As the uisce beatha coursed through her veins she fell into a troubled sleep, shivering from the cold that she’d dreamed about. Larra sat quietly at the foot of the bed and motioned for her counterpart, Harley Gallagher, to go back to guarding the door from the hallway.

  Harley looked at Libby with concern and compassion. She fought back the tears welling in her big dark eyes as she returned to her post. “Larra, what do we do? This is almost too much to endure just to watch.” As much as she loved Dale, her heart was breaking for Libby.

  “We do our jobs,” the tiny girl replied. “Go back to your post. I’ll stay with Libby.”

  She looked over at Libby, who had returned to a fitful sleep. Over the years she’d grown to care for, and respect, her human liege. An unlikely friendship had developed between the two women, despite the enormous difference in their ages. Libby was in her mid-forties. Larra was a good 200 years older.

  Larra would outlive almost every human she’d ever know and care for but, since she was part human herself, she’d also eventually age and die. She was unlike those of pure fey lineage who were immortal unless killed. Larra had never been accepted in the faery world, despite having been born to the royal family. She was tiny for a human, but larger than most of the fey. They were pale and fair, and she had dark hair, dark almond eyes and an eternal tan. Everything about her screamed that she didn’t belong there. Her existence was an embarrassment to her family, so she rarely spent time in the faery realm.

  She’d met Libby on one of her adventures before she’d become Queen. Larra may have been hundreds of years old, but she looked like a beautiful human teenager. She’d been in a pub one night when some men were giving her a hard time. Larra was a deadly warrior, but she kept a low profile whenever possible. Libby had been carousing at the bar and noticed the young girl being hassled by a bunch of drunk goons.

  She sauntered over to Larra’s table and said, “Hey Sis, there you are. I’ve been looking for you. It’s time to go home.”

  Larra looked up at her, and before she could say anything one of the men started in with, “Why don’t you just leave us alone with her, or better yet, join us.” As he grabbed Libby’s ass, she brought her heel down hard on his foot, then her elbow up into his throat. Libby looked at Larra and said, “Let’s go,” with such authority that Larra followed her, amused and intrigued to see where this would all go. She’d never have imagined it would have brought her here.

  Libby needed to be surrounded by music twenty-four hours a day just to survive. With additional wizards and musicians to support the Queen’s energy field, Sophia and Awen, the Royal Wizards, attacked the archives in a desperate attempt to find something they could use. Krystal, their colleague, was already on her way when the call for help went out. They hadn’t even questioned how she knew before most everyone else, but it was still going to take another day for her to arrive. Libby was tougher than most people, but that was due more to sheer willpower than physical strength. With her suppressed magical abilities, maybe there was something that could be done to save the Kingdom, if not the King.

  They spent days with dusty old scrolls and leather-bound books. The old stuff hadn’t been digitized yet, but they had search algorithms running for everything else, including anything that may have been lost outside the force field in a Normal library. They were exhausted, dusty, and desperate. Sophia was massaging her temples with her eyes closed, when she heard Awen yell, “Yes!” from across the library.

  “Oh please, Goddess, let this be it,” Sophia prayed.

  Awen came running from around the stacks with an old dusty scroll under her arm, her knees bouncing up and down like she was running hurdles. Her active lifestyle made her forgo the traditional robes in favor of athletic attire, which came in handy today as she leaped over stacks of books and dodged reading tables.

  “Sophia! I found it! I think I’ve found it! Oh, please let this be it!” she yelled.

  They made quite the pair. Sophia Sabino was the blonde and blue-eyed earth mother, the Healer, who took care of her kids and grandkids and everyone else. Her hugs were famous, as was her cooking. Taco night at Sophia’s could cure pretty much anything that ailed you.

  Awen Aymara was a tall leggy brunette. Drop dead gorgeous, athletic and sarcastic as hell. A good twenty years younger than Sophia, Awen was a stronger wizard when it came to raw power, but not as confident or experienced. Sophia came from a long line of wizards, and Awen was new to all of it. They made a good team.

  They poured over the scroll and Awen explained what she’d found. “There isn’t much in the way of specifics, but it’s been done before. This text is ancient and I couldn’t even find a year on it. It was hidden within another scroll, which is probably the only reason it survived. There was a warrior queen whose husband died slowly from wounds received in battle. I think her name is Michie, but it’s hard to make out. It’s a dialect of ancient Japanese. But it is possible for the Queen to survive the loss of the King.

  “Wait, are you seeing this, too? If I’m reading this right, if the Queen survives, she’ll become the King?” Awen asked incredulously.

  “Whoa, that’s how I read it. I guess it’s never needed to be written down because historically the throne has passed to the heir before the elder king or queen can die. Or maybe none of the other scrolls have survived? This is one of the oldest looking texts I’ve ever seen. I wonder, if a queen dies does the King become the Queen?” Sophia muse
d out loud.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Awen snorted. “There is no way a king could survive the loss of a queen. Have you heard of man flu?”

  Sophia laughed, “If I didn’t know the universe demanded balance, I’d say you’re probably right about that. But if a queen can survive, that means a king can, too. Even if it seems improbable.” She thought about Dale and knew that in his case he’d never survive the loss of Libby. He could barely function when she was away for more than a week. As bad as this was, at least they had a fighting chance. Since Dale and Libby had no children of their own it complicated things. They’d identified two potential heirs, but both were far too young to be married, and still untrained, to even be considered an option. Saving Libby was their only choice to saving the kingdom.

  Awen was about to roll the ancient scroll back up when Sophia stopped her. “Wait, what’s that?” She’d noticed some markings on the innermost portion of the scroll.

  Careful not to tear the scroll from the inner dowel, Awen unrolled it completely. The two women could see a drawing of a dragon, and additional text in the margin.

  “A curse.” Sophia sighed. “Of course, there is a curse. Why is there always a curse?”

  “It says that Queen Michie is doomed to an afterlife without her king, until a queen tames the Black Dragon.” Awen squinted as she made out the tiny calligraphy. “Huh. What the heck do you think that means?”

  “No idea, but since it’s about this Queen Michie I’m not going to worry about it. Right now, we need to focus on Libby.”

  The two wizards spent the rest of the night reviewing the text and coming up with a plan. After three all-nighters in the archive, they both fell into bed with a faint glimmer of hope.

  Three months had passed since Dale incurred his injuries. The knights continued to come in to the palace for monthly training but spent the remainder of their time at home with their families around the Kingdom. While Geoffrey and Sean both had quarters at the palace, they also maintained their own homes close by. The two took turns so that one of them was always on site, but both went home as often as possible. It was Geoffrey’s turn, and he was sitting under the moonlight in an outdoor bubble bath smoking a joint when Teruyo appeared beside the tub. “What the fuck?” he exclaimed as he dropped his joint into the water and reached instinctively for his sword, that was leaning up against the edge of the tub, more out of habit than any threat. Years of military training had ingrained a certain amount of hyper-vigilance that would never go away.

  “Calm yourself, Geoffrey Fitzgerald,” Teuryo laughed. “I mean you no harm. Do you know who I am?”

  Still gripping his sword, Geoffrey looked at her closely. He realized that the tiny Asian woman who had just materialized wasn’t quite solid and he could see through her a little. Oh hell, how stoned am I? he wondered.

  He stared at her as recognition finally made its way through his still fuzzy brain. “You’re the Queen’s grandmother,” he answered. He’d seen photos of her at Dale and Libby’s, but also knew that she’d died years before they’d married. His mind was racing. He knew from his studies that the Spirit Council was said to communicate to the living only in times of great crisis. This definitely qualified. This was bad. This was so bad. He’d hoped for the best for his friend and King but knew in that moment that Dale was going to die.

  “Well done, Senior Knight. That’s correct. I head the Spirit Council. We convened the moment the King was hit by that curse. We are here to help the Queen save the Kingdom. Call your knights back to the palace. I need to meet with you and Scarlett first thing tomorrow morning.

  She started to shimmer and phase out, and then added, “Oh, and stop with the happy weed. I need you sharp.”

  Geoffrey sighed, took a wistful look at his now soggy joint and looked up at the night sky. “Dale, my brother, I’m so damned sorry it’s come to this. I’ll do everything in my power to protect Libby and the Kingdom. Godspeed, little buddy.” He didn’t have any kids of his own, but there was a woman in his life. He wished she was with him now. He knew Awen had her hands full at the moment and he’d see her soon enough back at the palace. Still, the knowledge that they may not have much time left made him regret not marrying her before all this happened.

  That’s the big lie of life, he thought to himself. You always think you have more time.

  Scarlett was baking cookies with her granddaughters when Teruyo appeared in her great room. She’d announced her retirement plans earlier in the year, and training her successor had allowed her to spend more time with her grandchildren. Until now. Now everything was uncertain, but she still spent as much time with them as she could.

  “Hey girls, keep decorating these cookies, Grandma Chezel will be right back,” she instructed as she headed into the living room to chat with Teruyo.

  “You are aware of the King’s situation?” Teruyo asked.

  “Yes. I’ve been with Libby since Dale returned to the palace but came home to spend some time with my girls.” Scarlett had known Libby long before she became the Queen. The Queen’s best friend, she was there when Libby and Dalen met, and even stood up with her at the wedding. Aisling Elisabeth McGregor and Scarlett Chezel had been friends for a very long time.

  “Do you know what is likely to happen when the King dies?” Teruyo pressed.

  “Yes. I do. It’s one of the reasons I took time off to spend with my granddaughters. While I still could.”

  Teruyo looked over at the girls and smiled. “Good call. Enjoy your evening with them. We’ll need you at the palace tomorrow. Geoffrey and the wizards will be there as well. Please put the other LIWs on notice. Their service will be needed. All of them.”

  Scarlett’s eyes filled with tears as she nodded. She took a moment to regain her composure and then went back to baking with her granddaughters. The girls were having a good time and didn’t even notice all the extra squeezy hugs and kisses they were getting from their grandma. It was a good while later before she responded to Geoffrey’s text message confirming what time he’d pick her up in the morning. She also sent out the recall order for her team. By tomorrow afternoon they’d all be at the palace.

  The next morning Geoffrey met Scarlett so they could talk as they headed out early for their appointment with the Council. To anyone paying attention, they were a study in contrasts. Geoffrey was tall and thin, with long dark wavy hair. Scarlett was petite with glossy black hair and sparkling blue eyes. She was the oldest of the LIWs. She rode a black stallion whose mane was almost as shiny as her hair. Both would have preferred to travel by car, but horses were always used for official transportation. Science and technology were just as welcome as magic, but some things were tradition, like a knight on a white horse.

  Their presence and sense of purpose were unmistakable. Even without their armor and weaponry, they weren’t a pair to be trifled with. They compared notes on their surprise visitor, and what it could mean. They already knew the situation was dire but were eager to get an update on the plan ahead. It was now their job to get the rest of the knights and LIWs ready. The shit was about to hit the proverbial fan.

  The three wizards rounded the corner, arms full of scrolls, and slowed to meet Geoffrey and Scarlett, who had paused at the heavy wooden doors leading to the council chambers. After a nervous exchange of good mornings and a “Let’s do this,” Geoffrey opened the door and ushered the women in.

  Even after their late-night visits with Teruyo, when they walked into the council chambers the two Seniors had to struggle to keep their composure. Knowing ghosts exist and seeing one was one thing. Walking into a room and seeing five of them, including one you knew in life, was disconcerting.

  Scarlett recovered first, “Hi, Mr. Aodamo. It’s good to see you.” She forced a smile and looked around at the rest of the group.

  “Good morning, Sir.” Geoffrey hadn’t realized that the Queen’s father was on the Council. It took him a second to process that information. It had been less than a year since he’d le
d the processional at his funeral. This was surreal. The Queen’s father was beloved. Even Dude was on his best behavior that day.

  Kokichi nodded and boomed a hearty, “Good morning.” He looked just as he had in life. Regal. His thick hair and beard were pure white and trimmed neatly. Instead of the formal attire they were used to when he was King, he was wearing the simple black gi he’d favored in his retirement. He looked equally ready to take down an opponent or drink tea.

  Teruyo thanked them for arriving on time. “Since we’ll be working together it’s important you know who we are. We, of course, already know you. You’ve already met me.” The five humans nodded.

  “Same for me,” said Kokichi.

  Maggie stood up. “I’m Margaret Aisling O’Brien, the Queen’s great-great-great-great-great-grandmother. You can call me Maggie. I’m the reason Libby was born with red hair, no matter what color it may be now. I’m also the reason she has magic and other special gifts, something she will need to acknowledge and learn to master if we are to survive.” Maggie was looking pointedly at Krystal, who was tugging on her silver braid.

  Scarlett nodded, slowly. She and Libby had talked about it before so she knew about the Queen’s prophetic dreams and that she could sometimes see spirits. Geoffrey kept a straight face but was still freaking out a little about what he was seeing and hearing. He knew the Queen was into the metaphysical new age hippie stuff, but they’d never really talked about it. Now he was hearing ghosts talk about her having special powers. Like a wizard. Ghosts! It was hard to process it all. He wished he were still stoned. It might be funnier that way. Or less terrifying.

  The beautiful young Japanese woman stood up, without making a sound. Geoffrey guessed she was about 4’6” and not older than 25. She was tiny but exuded a strength he wouldn’t have messed with on a good day. Her stature and “don’t mess with me vibe” reminded him a little of Larra. She’d have easily gone unnoticed, but for her exceptional beauty and a confidence that was a lot larger than her petite frame. She was wearing blue-lacquered samurai armor, carried a bow on her back and a katana and tanto on her hips, the traditional swords of the samurai.