“Where are you going?!” he cried as she ran back toward the village.
“To make sure the God of Justice is all right!” she replied without stopping. Hot ash rained down around her and it became harder for her to see. She ran to the top of a small hill and froze in shock.
Corin stood alone. The walls of the village behind him shimmered with light blue magic.
In front of him was a pile of Vestrals; only their cloaks moved in the wind.
Corin smiled when he noticed her.
“What took you so long?”
IT WAS NEAR SUNDOWN by the time they finished burning the corpses. Only twenty Initiates remained, while ten Vestrals, including Dirna and the two War Vestrals, were all that was left of what was sent by the High Vestral.
Sade collapsed onto the stairs of the platform, watching the crowd mull about the field. Jerrick and Esmelda threw the torch on the last funeral pyre. Attrius sang a parting song for the dead.
“You did well today,” Corin said. His magic hovered around him; part of it merged into Sade’s, strengthening her weary bones.
“I only did well because of your divine magic. Without it, I would have run out of my own a lot sooner,” Sade said fighting back a yawn.
Leida and a few Initiates brought Dirna and the other Vestrals to the front of the platform. They had bound them in chains with dispel runes etched into the metal. Dirna glared up at them with pure rage in her eyes as two crackling triangles formed in the air behind them.
“My dear people of Oddlehill!” Corin shouted. He waited for everyone to encircle the platform before he continued. “These Vestrals stand before us today after they tried to not only murder us but burn down your homes as well!”
Sade saw Henry emerge from the forest and stand at the edge of the crowd; he was too far away for her to see his face, but she knew he was frowning. His magic was dark with anger.
“The efforts of the heroic Initiates and my cherished Vestral Sade ensured that none of you were put to death!”
The villagers cheered, and a few of the Initiates clapped each other on the shoulder.
“Today, I will ask of you: do you believe these Vestrals in front of you deserve mercy?” Corin asked and pointed to Dirna and her companions. The crowd booed, and a few even spit on the Vestrals. Dirna bowed her head as they jeered at her. The upright triangle flickered.
“Or do you think they deserve the same justice that they wished to bestow upon you?” Corin asked the crowd; his voice sounded pained. The crowd roared with approval.
“You cannot do this!” Dirna screamed. The Initiates advanced with swords. “This is blasphemy! You will all burn in the hearths of the afterlife!”
“I’m sorry, but the people of Oddlehill have spoken,” Corin said softly. The upright triangle behind her faded, the remaining triangle crackled with divine energy.
“You will pay for this, Sade,” Dirna said.
An Initiate ran a sword through her. While the life faded from her eyes, an Initiate dragged her body to a pyre. Sade swallowed as the Vestral’s body erupted in flames. Part of her felt relief, her old life was gone. And yet, a small voice in the back of her mind screamed she had done the wrong thing.
“Our actions here today will send a message to the High Vestral! Her reign of tyranny will soon end!” Corin shouted, jolting her out of her thoughts. His magic crackled with rage. “They claim I am a false God while they are crowning a false Queen!”
Shouts and gasps echoed through the crowd. Sade’s mouth dropped open.
“What are you talking about?” she whispered. “Vestral Frieda verified the Queen!”
Corin ignored her as he paced around the platform and gazed at the crowd. He held up a rune of seeking, one that was used to verify the Spirit of the Realm’s choice for the next ruler. The rune glowed a soft white, shifting to a dark purple the closer he got to Sade.
“This is the one who should sit on the throne! This is the woman who will lead your kingdom to victory, not a pathetic fisherwoman!” Corin exclaimed. He handed Sade the rune. Her stomach dropped to her feet, yet she could not tear her eyes away from it. When she looked up, she saw the crowd of people kneeling. Save for Henry, who had turned his back and was walking back toward the village.
“Long live Queen Sade!” Corin shouted. The crowd quickly joined him as Sade took a deep breath. Euphoria swept through her.
Queen Sade. She turned the idea over and over in her mind. The more she did, the more she liked it. She would go down in history as the Queen who saved not only the Realm, but the Spirit of the Realm.
Goodbye, Henry. She looked away from his retreating form towards the adoring crowd. Corin was beaming at her and for the first time since she was a child, she realized she was no longer alone.
21
The Prince’s Choice
FELIX STARED DOWN AT a letter in utter disbelief. He turned it over a few times and then reread the words. The letter went into detail about what had happened in Oddlehill. There were no identifying marks nor was there a name attached.
“Your Highness?” Alvar asked. He set down the small wooden knight he was holding. A game of Griffin’s Lark was spread out between them. Lord Rover had left for the North and the Vestral had decided to stay in Avemdal. A decision he hadn’t yet explained to Felix, though he suspected he was keeping an eye on him.
Since Lord Rover had left, the Vestral had been by his side. They sat in one of the large common rooms, where a few other nobles were walking around and chatting. A large fire roared in the hearth, keeping out the chilly fall air from the drafty windows.
“What in the names of the Gods!” Alvar shouted and threw the letter onto the table with disgust. “A false queen? They dare to proclaim Queen Emira is false!”
Felix sat back in his chair and rubbed his forehead. “It seems this problem has become much more serious.”
“Gods, a war with the Western Marshes, a false God and a false queen. At this rate, if the God of War turned out to be a pig with wings, it would not surprise me,” Alvar said before remembering his place and muttering a prayer of forgiveness. When the runes on his cloak didn’t flair with the God of War’s magic, he looked at Felix with a grim expression.
“We should inform the High Vestral,” he said and picked up the letter.
“Fine,” Felix glanced down at the game. He grabbed his nearest griffin and used it to knock over one of Alvar’s knights. He grinned as the Vestral cursed.
“Ah, damn it I always fall for that trick,” Alvar said.
Felix eyed the guards as they passed; both men looked alert. After he had found the Queen wandering the empty parts of the castle by herself, he ordered sweeping changes to the castle guards. If they found any of them asleep, they would face thirty lashes and be stripped of their guard duties.
Since the Queen was in the middle of her confinement, he wasn’t worried about finding her wandering around empty halls. While the Queen prepared, the High Vestral was helping the Royal Council finish the last details for her coronation. So Felix and Alvar made their way to the Royal Council chambers.
They climbed the stairs up the tower, Felix noticed Alvar was staying unusually close to the wall.
“Are you all right?”
“I will never understand why we had to make towers this tall, nor why we had to put the damn council room at the top of a godsforsaken tower,” Alvar muttered. The wind picked up outside the tower, making it sound as if they were surrounded by wailing ghosts.
When they got to the council room, it was empty save for the High Vestral, who was staring out a window. She turned to greet them, the runes on her cloak shimmering a light gold. No fire was lit in the hearth; the High Vestral must be using her magic to keep warm.
“Gentlemen, I’m afraid you missed the meeting,” the High Vestral said, frowning at Alvar. “Why are you not tending to the shrines?”
“It is not my day to attend to them,” Alvar said and handed her the letter. “We have a received word
on the outcome of Oddlehill. It seems they defeated the Vestrals, and the imposter has declared his most trusted Vestral to be the true chosen Queen of Sodervia.”
The High Vestral set down the letter with an amused expression on her face before sweeping over to the table and holding up a scroll.
“But I have just received a report that my Vestrals punished those offenders and the village of Oddlehill was... cleansed of its heresy.”
Felix shuddered at the High Vestral’s words; if the High Vestral’s letter was genuine, then an entire village was nothing but ashes.
“How can you know your letter is real?” Alvar retorted, the runes on his cloak glinting red for a heartbeat.
The High Vestral smiled and pointed to the wax seal on her scroll, where the image of an upside tower was embedded. “This is the mark of the Temple of Plainspire. The head Vestral of that temple was at Oddlehill and has informed me of their success.”
Alvar frowned and took the letter from the High Vestral. He gently traced his thumb over the wax. The High Vestral turned to Felix with an annoyed expression.
“You are reminding me of the Queen with your outbursts,” she said, eyeing the letter Felix had given her. “Your letter bears no signature or mark, so why would I believe it is real?”
“May I send out a small force to check on the status of Oddlehill?” Felix asked. The High Vestral narrowed her eyes.
“Prince Felix, why are you questioning me? I have received a letter that bears the mark of a Vestral I know very well, while yours could be from a beggar on the street! The Queen’s Coronation is tomorrow! I do not have time to argue with you.”
“Your Highness, the High Vestral is correct,” Alvar said and handed the scroll back to the High Vestral.
Felix fought back the urge to yell at her about the rune of madness the Queen had found in her warming stones. Alvar seemed to sense something was amiss. He gave the High Vestral a curt bow.
“Come, Your Highness, let us finish up that game of Griffin’s Lark,” he said and practically pushed Felix out the door.
Alvar didn’t say another word until they were far away from the North tower and out of range of the High Vestral’s magic. They entered the castle gardens; the leaves of the trees had all fallen, leaving only bare branches reaching into the sky.
“The mark on the letter the High Vestral received is one that is used in times of distress,” Alvar whispered as a few giggling ladies passed by them.
“Distress?”
“Yes, the mark means that everything in the letter means the opposite. The letter she received was not one of victory but one of warning. I fear the head Vestral of Plainspire is dead.”
Felix scowled and had to calm the magic that bubbled up inside of him. “Why is the High Vestral is lying to us?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps the Spirit of the Realm told her to lie...”
“What do we do now?” Felix asked after a period of silence.
“I will send some Vestrals I trust with my life and have them monitor the problems at Oddlehill. With winter coming, I doubt they are going to do much until Spring, I’m sure most of those people are farmers and will be focused on trying to get their crops to grow.”
Felix doubted they would return to farming. It was more likely they would have to face two armies come spring. The kingdom was heading towards ruin.
“Vestral Alvar, may I ask something of you?”
“Of course.”
“If something happens to me, please do everything you can to keep the Queen and my mother safe,” Felix said. Alvar’s mouth twisted into a frown.
“Of course, but what exactly are you planning?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
Alvar sighed. “Gods above, just make sure you don’t burn down any more towns.”
Felix grinned and patted the Vestral on the back.
“Worry not, old friend, I will seek the wisdom of those who have come before us.”
FELIX WAS ABOUT READY to tear his hair out. He stared at the pile of scrolls and books scattered around the room. His chambers resembled that of the Temple Library. He had spent the afternoon reading through the histories, trying to find any source of inspiration on what steps he needed to take next.
He had read through The Chronicles of the Sodervian High Vestrals; it was a detailed record of the lives of every single High Vestral that had served in the kingdom. None of the scrolls even hinted at any corruption or ill will by any High Vestral, they only touted their good deeds and how they were held in high esteem by the Gods and Goddesses.
He turned over another scroll only to find it was an incredibly detailed recipe book for some long dead Lord. It was filled with nothing but different ways to cook boar meat.
“Gods! This is useless!”
He tossed the scroll onto the pile. The movement caused the entire stack to fall to the floor. Shaking his head, he called for his servants to take the item back to the library. A few haggard-looking servants entered and swiftly removed all the scrolls and books.
Felix rose and clasped his hands behind his back while he paced. Between the famine, the war, the false God and an imposter Queen. It was starting to feel like the Gods wanted Sodervia to fall apart. He wondered if he should even keep fighting.
He walked back and forth; he could not shake the image of the Queen stumbling around the empty halls. And yet, she still had had a spark of determination in her eyes. She reminded him of those villagers he had encountered countless times on the borderlands. No matter what they faced, no matter how bleak things were, they did not stop fighting.
Gods, get a grip! If a bunch of bloody peasants can persevere through a famine, you can figure out how to keep the realm intact. Felix sat back down at his writing desk. His hand brushed against a scroll. He pulled it out and dropped it when he saw the seal. It was the letter the Vestral had given him when he went to visit his father’s tomb.
He stared at the wax seal; the image of the griffin and the spear used to be a badge of honor. Now, thanks to his father, it was nothing but a laughingstock. He doubted his father had anything useful to say; it could be nothing but the rambles of a madman.
He once again rose from his chair and paced around the room, occasionally glancing back at the scroll. His mind had gone blank and he tried to focus on the issues he was facing, but the more he looked at the scroll, the more he wanted to open it.
“Damn it,” Felix muttered to himself and he broke the wax seal. He closed his eyes while he unrolled the scroll and prepared himself for nothing but nonsense or slander. After a few heartbeats, he opened his eyes and read.
Dear Felix,
If this letter finds you, and I pray to all the Gods and Goddesses it does not, then I have failed in my mission. If you are reading this, then I am dead, and they have chosen someone else to rule Sodervia.
My son, before I begin, I beg for your forgiveness. I did not safeguard myself well enough against the darkness that has swelled up deep within the ranks of our kingdom. If I have harmed you, then I am sorry and I will do whatever I can from the afterlife to help you..
Now for the first reason I am writing this letter. I have uncovered something about the Spirit of the Realm and the High Vestrals that serve it. A terrible sickness has swept over them both and has corrupted the Spirit of the Realm. It no longer cares about the safety of the kingdom and I fear it craves power. I do not know to what extent, nor do I know what plans it has. I’m afraid the Gods no longer answer my prayers.
The Gods created the Spirit of the Realm to ensure we would not fall into ruin like our ancestors before us. However, I do not believe they expected it to turn against us. Any innovation that I bring forth to bring our kingdom into a new age has been shot down, without innovation we are doomed.
The second reason I am writing this letter is this, whoever the Spirit of the Realm has chosen to be the ruler of Sodervia is in grave danger. I have heard whispers of plots to destabilize the realm and bring forth illegitimate claims
against the Crown. Whoever sits upon the throne will become nothing more than a puppet and I fear they will not survive their first year.
Felix, I am sorry I cannot give you any more information. My mind is turning against me. I don’t understand why this is happening to me.
The letter ended in a swirl of scribbles and doodles of shadowy figures.
Felix exhaled; he hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath. The memories of his father spending hours in the temples while he muttered unintelligible prayers danced in his thoughts. His father must have kept trying to get the Gods to help him despite his deteriorating state. Had the High Vestral targeted him like she with the Queen? Was his father plagued by madness caused not by his mind, but by magic?
Felix folded up the paper and shoved it into a pouch on his belt. He headed out the door. It wasn’t long before he was standing in front of the Queen’s chambers; a few guards stood at attention while he banged on the door.
The door opened and Lady Ethelbright stepped out into the hall, surprise crossing her features when she saw him.
“Your Highness? What are you doing here?”
“I need to speak to the Queen,” Felix said, and Lady Ethelbright shook her head. “You know you cannot do that. She is not to be disturbed during her time with the Gods.”
Felix groaned with frustration and tugged on his hair. “Then is she well?”
“Yes, before she went into her confinement, she looked better than I have ever seen her since she first came to this place,” Lady Ethelbright said. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I am sorry for disturbing you, Lady Ethelbright,” Felix said and left before she could reply.
He made his way to his mother’s quarters, where one of her ladies-in-waiting answered the door and quickly ushered him inside. His mother was sitting with her ladies in front of the hearth; laughter rang through the air while they sipped tea from silver cups.
The Spirit of the Realm Page 27