by B. K. Boes
But what if Momma’s right?
Jabin sighed. His whole life, he had known who he was. Son of Abner Yllin, heir to the estate. One day he would care for his father’s tenants and the land they owned. There was no other son to inherit.
What would happen to my home if I don’t follow in my father’s footsteps?
Exhausted in body, mind, and spirit, he sank as far under the covers as possible. He fell asleep praying the Sustainer would keep any further visions far from him.
Chapter Nine
Moloch
Palace Grounds
The City of Patriphos, Eikon
3rd Cycle of Chenack
986 Post Schism
The arrival of Princess Naova sent ripples of excitement throughout the entire city. For days, the nobility had been talking about the celebration that would follow her arrival. Now that she was here, no one wanted to miss it. The caravan came through the streets like a parade, the people of Patriphos straining to catch a glimpse of their future queen. Moloch and Bram stood on the wall separating the palace grounds from the city.
“That’s a lot of Ergonians,” Bram said as he chewed off a piece of dried meat from a rather large chunk. “How long is she staying, anyway?”
“Who knows when she’ll return to Ergon,” Moloch said. “If all goes well, she’ll become a ward of the king. She might not visit her homeland for years to come.”
“And how long will we be staying?” Bram asked.
“As long as the prince needs me,” Moloch said.
Two dozen Ergonian soldiers with their gray uniforms and lackluster chain-mail marched under them, through the gates below. Each man had two battle axes at his side. Ergonian soldiers were known for those axes: double-bladed, reinforced steel within the smooth wooden handles, one large for chopping off limbs, and a smaller one that could split a man’s skull if thrown just right. Moloch was glad Eikonians had generally been on good terms with their southern neighbor. He wouldn’t want to have to worry about axe-weilding mountain men and the heartless killing machines of Adikea.
The soldiers were followed by a large palanquin on the backs of ten men, the princess inside hidden by layers of colorful cloth draped and secured across the frame. Two wagons came after that, pulled by pikkans. Their soft, feathery coats were oiled, darkening their colors and catching the sunlight so they shone like metal. Though it made for quite the spectacle, Moloch winced at the thought of trying to oil Dancer’s coat. His own pikkan hated to be weighed down by anything — be it water, mud, or oil.
Once the caravan was through, Moloch turned to watch from a distance as Prince Zuria greeted his future bride. The prince stood at the top of the staircase, and when the palanquin stopped centered with the palace, the prince began to descend. Two men, dressed in robes instead of armor, met him halfway. After a few words, the two men turned around and returned to the caravan. The palanquin along with a dozen soldiers continued around the back of the palace.
“Huh,” Bram said with another chunk of meat between his teeth. “What was that all about?”
“I don’t know,” Moloch said. “Could be nothing.”
But as the prince disappeared inside the palace once more, Moloch decided it was in his best interest to be available should Zuria need support. A quick, formal greeting upon arrival was customary in Eikon, and the prince had seemed dejected at the princess’ disregard for the tradition.
“Let’s go,” Moloch said. “The prince needs a drink.”
“No doubt.” Bram followed Moloch back to the palace and to the Red Rooms, where the prince would be able to easily find them.
Moloch first approached the tall, thin marble table positioned by the entrance to his rooms. A single glass vase, etched with swirls and delicate flowers, graced the otherwise empty table top. The scent of the white roses in the vase wafted toward Moloch as he grasped hold of the brass handle to the long, thin drawer underneath. It pulled out to reveal several wooden boxes, each one engraved with a name of a game. He scanned them and chose the one marked Avarice, a card game enjoyed both by nobility and the masses alike. He pulled the wooden box out and held it up as he turned to Bram.
“If I know the prince at all, he’ll come to play cards. Get his mind off whatever went wrong,” Moloch said as walked over to the sitting area and placed the game on the low taurret wood table between the sofas. He proceeded to the liquor station at the back of the sitting room, poured two glasses of ambrosia. When he came back to the couches with glasses in hand, Bram reached for one, but Moloch slapped his hand away. “This is for the prince.”
“He’s not even here,” Bram said.
“He will be.” Moloch sat on one of the sofas and leaned back into it. “All we have to do is wait.”
Just when Moloch was starting to think he had been wrong, that he should’ve sent a messenger or found the prince himself, a knock sounded at the door. Moloch grabbed the two glasses and had Bram open the door to find Zuria with four palace guards on his heels. The guards entered Moloch’s quarters to have a look before stationing themselves around the room. Bram frowned, obviously annoyed at their presence.
Moloch handed one of the glasses to Zuria.
“How did you know?” Zuria took a long drink, finishing his ambrosia in one gulp.
“I was watching from the wall above the gate. What happened?” Moloch took a sip from his own glass.
“Give me another.” Zuria handed the empty glass to Moloch and sat on the cream-colored sofa.
“Yes, my liege.” Moloch bowed his head and made a wide sweeping motion with his hand as he walked over to the ambrosia. The sarcasm was a risk, but Zuria wasn’t one to order him about, not in casual circumstances such as these. Moloch hoped those three formal words would remind the prince that Moloch wasn’t just any man, but rather his long-time friend.
“I’m sorry, Moloch,” Zuria said. “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re the one friend I have with whom I can be myself. I’d rather not resort to formalities right now.”
Good. Me either.
Moloch poured another glass, handed it to Zuria, and sat opposite the prince. He took another drink, letting the alcohol burn a little as he swallowed it slowly. “So, then, tell me what’s happened.”
“She didn’t want to see me.” Zuria finished his second drink in seconds and set the glass firmly on the low table between them. “At least, not until morning, at the start of the celebrations.”
Zuria sat back and folded his hands over his stomach. “There were flowers. And little cakes. All set up in the courtyard beyond the arcades.”
Moloch chuckled. “Zuria,” he said. “This isn’t completely unexpected. She’s had a long journey. Stuffed away in a palanquin, no less. It’s hot in those things.”
Zuria sat up. “That’s what her man said. That she needs time to refresh herself. I thought she might need an hour.”
“You truly know very little about women,” Moloch said. “How many women of noble birth have you known to take an hour getting ready for anything important? My sister is only twelve, and she takes longer than that.”
The prince ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “You’ve got a point.”
“Exactly,” Moloch said. “You’re all worked up over nothing.”
“Except the meeting of my future wife,” Zuria said, face still pale.
“Well, I’ll be there as your chaperone,” Moloch said. “You’re not alone in this, and I’m positive she’ll love you from the start.”
“All right,” Zuria said, not seeming convinced.
Moloch reached over the table and slapped Zuria’s shoulder. “Come on. Beat me in a round of Avarice. It’ll make you feel better.”
A half smile from the prince told Moloch he was on the right track. He pushed down his own worries. The truth was, everything could spin out of control tomorrow. Zuria could find his soon-to-be wife was his worst nightmare. Moloch pushed those thoughts away. Now was a time to be a strong right-hand man for the p
rince. Build trust. Build something that would carry over into an endorsement to the king. If things went badly tomorrow, all he had to do was position himself to fall in the favor of the prince.
The next morning, the palace grounds were abuzz with lords and ladies and the servants hastening to serve them brunch. Moloch and Zuria were early. The king and queen of Eikon sat at a table on a raised dais before dozens of tables set up on the green grasses of the palace grounds. The king was of average height and build, with a clean-shaven face, and a full head of greying hair. His thin golden crown sat lightly upon his head, accenting his lightly golden complexion. The queen sat beside him, delicate but regal, her every movement graceful. The crown upon her head came to a point on her forehead where a green gem caught the sunlight. Gold fabric was entwined in a thick braid, the tip of which reached beyond her waist.
Behind the royal couple stretched the beautiful gardens and hedge maze which were always a popular attraction for visitors. Moloch followed Zuria to a separate dais, where they waited for Princess Naova and Lady Junia.
Moloch noticed his father, mother, and siblings already seated. Lenworth made faces at Sherlotta, who giggled at his antics until their father gave them both a sharp look. Waen sat beside their mother, stiff and tight-lipped. Moloch had hoped perhaps Waen would stay home. It had been refreshing to have some time away from his twin, who only seemed to become more hostile as time wore on.
The last of the guests were arriving when a horn blew from a palace portico nearby. The princess stepped out from the palace into the daylight as an Ergonian man, short and stout, made the announcement. “The Princess Naova Gonnoss,” he shouted in a stately manner, “daughter of the King of Ergon, and her companion and cousin, the Lady Junia Nondrum.”
All stood and — except for Eikonian royalty — bowed as she made her way down the lawn toward her designated table with the prince. As she approached, Prince Zuria’s face lit up with awe. Moloch smirked quietly, shook his head, and followed the prince’s enraptured gaze to find himself taken aback. Not with the princess, though she was lovely with her hair pinned up in brunette curls and a tiara sitting daintily among them. No, it was her companion, Lady Junia, that made Moloch’s heart beat faster.
She stayed a step behind her better, and yet she was all Moloch cared to see. Soft wisps of auburn hair escaped from her crown of braids and danced at her temples in the breeze. Her skin was a shade or two darker than the princess’ pale olive complexion, but Moloch found the richness of it preferable. When they approached the king and queen, they both bowed their heads. Moloch found it maddening that Lady Junia lingered longer than the princess, though it was proper.
The ladies then turned toward the prince’s dais. As she walked toward him, Moloch met Lady Junia’s eyes and was stunned by their beauty — a shade of green he had never seen, deep and inviting. Her lips were full and painted a subtle red. Her neckline fell below the collarbones. Her floor-length gown was the same green as her eyes and gathered at a high waist. The gown flowed loosely, cascading in layers that danced as she followed the princess.
“Moloch?” Zuria’s voice broke through.
Zuria had already taken the princess’ hand to assist her up the steps, and they were all waiting on him to do the same with Lady Junia.
“Yes!” he said, far too enthusiastically. “I mean, Lady Junia, may I take your hand?” Moloch held his out and tried to suppress the shiver of delight when she placed her perfect hand in his. He accompanied Junia back to the table and helped her with her seat before sitting next to Zuria. It was a miracle he didn’t trip over himself.
Zuria smiled at the ladies and leaned over to whisper, “Are you all right?”
“Of course,” he said.
Light conversation began as Moloch sat back in his chair and watched this woman who had so completely captured his attention in just a few seconds. The chatter became background noise. Junia reached for a little bite-sized cake and bit into it, looking away for a moment as she brushed the crumbs from her lips. It was then that she caught Moloch staring at her. The corner of her lip turned up and she raised an eyebrow. She stared back, daring him to keep looking.
Moloch blushed and cleared his throat. He was saved from any further embarrassment as the brunch came to a close and another announcer shouted that the games were beginning.
Princess Naova clasped her hands together. “I do love games,” she said. “Will you be participating in the sword duels?” she asked Zuria. “Those are my favorite. I see duels with the axe quite often in Ergon, but very rarely with the sword. The sword seems a more… elegant weapon.”
Moloch looked to his friend. Zuria was even worse at the sword than Moloch was. The prince was an excellent archer and knew much about war strategies and how to lead an army, but his swordsmanship was a work in progress. He simply didn’t have the raw talent, though he had the best teachers in Leyumin.
It probably doesn’t help that the king is so soft on him, either, Moloch thought, glancing at the king who was now whispering something in his wife’s ear. Though Moloch respected King Shamylle, he found many of his ideas odd. He had always encouraged Zuria to seek that which most interested him more than the traditional skill sets an Eikonian lord possessed. Something about leading with the heart, with Sustainer-given talents, instead of brute strength.
Moloch glanced at his own father. Because Shamylle always had brute strength in his Chief Military Advisor. He was pulled from his thoughts by the prince, who nearly choked on his response.
“Oh… the sword… of course I will be competing,” Zuria said, the blood draining from his face.
Moloch waited until the ladies had stood and began to follow the rest toward the battle courtyards. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.
“I’m going to make a fool of myself,” Zuria said.
“Just… don’t do it. The archery competition will be later in the day,” Moloch said.
“You heard her,” Zuria said. “It’s her favorite. And I already said I would.”
“Then, fight against me,” Moloch said. “We’ll sign up for the same duel, make a show of it, and ultimately, you’ll win.”
“You’d do that for me?” Zuria asked.
“Yes, of course.”
The prince relaxed his shoulders a bit. “Thank you.”
The palace had a small arena behind it for events such as this. The arena floor was encircled by a short stone wall, surrounded by stone risers where the nobility all gathered to sit. Servants bustled to the stands to make sure each guest had their hearts’ fill of ambrosia, cheese, and freshly cut fruits. The entire east side of the arena was one long stone platform under a canopy of white fabric. The king and queen of Eikon took their places there, along with the rest of the royal family and the most important dignitaries that came with the Ergonian caravan.
The princess and Lady Junia made their way to the platform while Moloch and Zuria went to sign up for a duel. The line of nobles stepped aside when the prince arrived.
“Ah, Prince Zuria!” said the man behind the table. “You will be participating in the games? Archery, I’m sure?”
Zuria nodded. “Yes, I’d like to sign up for the archery competition later in the day, but also the sword duels.”
“Oh?” The man sounded a little bit too surprised.
“Yes,” Zuria said flatly.
“Of course, sire.” He said, wiping his face clean of any disbelief. He gestured to the scroll in front of him. “As you see, there are two corresponding slots for each number, one through twenty. Whichever number you choose, the other man with the same number will be your competitor.”
The prince scrolled through the list to sign his name next to the number six, where the matching number was also untaken. Moloch followed him with his own signature on the corresponding number.
“I hope this works,” Zuria said as they made their way to the platform. “I want her to see me as a man to be respected.”
“Trust me,” Moloch
said. “I’ll make you look like a hero.”
Zuria clapped Moloch on the back. “What would I do without you, my friend?”
They walked up the steps and onto the platform. Moloch sat next to the prince and looked out over the festivities. His eye stopped when he saw his brother at the table from which they’d just come. He was giving the man officiating the sign-ups a small money bag.
Moloch scoffed. Ha. Probably bribing the officiator so he faces the scrawniest man on the list. Waen was a good swordsman. He’d probably beat most men here. But, if anyone worked hard to always look the best, it was Waen. He was the kind of man to destroy a weaker opponent in a duel rather than take on a fair fight with someone of equal ability.
The sword duels began. The first four were fairly even fights, and very entertaining. A mixture of young nobles from both Eikon and Ergon participated, bringing the two nations together in the games to celebrate their bond in the marriage to come. The fifth duel was brutal. Waen fought against a thin sprig of a man, absolutely destroying him. But, of course, he dragged it out for a dramatic show. Moloch and Zuria descended from the platform and made their way to the arena entrance for the sixth battle. The announcer bellowed out their names, and the applause was extra hearty for the Eikonian prince.
“Are you ready?” Moloch asked.
Zuria nodded. The gong sounded, and the show began. The goal of the duel was to hit your opponent’s body with the blunted sword. Moloch held the hilt of his weapon with both hands and faced the prince. Zuria swallowed audibly, his weapon not yet ready.
Come on, go for it. Moloch gave the prince a nod.
The prince raised his sword, breathed deeply, and set his jaw. Moloch braced as his friend charged. They danced around the arena, blunted swords clashing. Moloch blocked several blows, spun away, and then charged himself, careful to put only minimal force behind each swing.
Enough to make it believable…