Blood and Ashes

by N M Zoltack

  “For being an alchemist?” he shrilled.

  “No. For being a Li sympathizer, or have you forgotten the likes of Dicun Lewis, a fellow Li sympathizer. You might not have attended the proceedings, but it had been I, and not my father, who presided over the affair.”

  “It is too late,” he warned as the first guard landed, the second one already starting down. “The wheels have been turned, and events are unfolding beyond our control. All will be as it should be—”

  “And you should be in a cell,” she said firmly.

  But the vicar grabbed a potion.

  “Be careful!” she warned the guards, but Albert Leeson hadn’t intended to use the potion as a means to attack.

  No, he consumed the contents in two swallows. His body convulsed as he fell to the ground. Foam fizzled from his mouth, and with a final tweak, his body stilled, and Rosalynne knew at once that he was dead.

  66

  Olympia Li

  The walls of the keep felt too confining, so Olympia left, lingering near the entrance, hoping to catch Oldrich either on his way into or out of the keep. It took a good bit of time, but finally, he headed toward the keep.

  She hailed him, and his eyes widened. He glanced all about wildly, as if afraid to be seen with her, and he jerked his head to the side. Olympia followed her twin to a secluded spot.

  “Yes?” he muttered, still looking all around instead of at her.

  “Oldrich,” she said warmly.

  He winced. “I wish you would not call me that.”

  “But it is your name,” she protested.

  “No, it is not.”

  She gave him a look.

  “Mayhap it was at one time but no longer,” he muttered.

  “Very well, then, Ulrich,” she said, stressing the name he had chosen, trying not to sound mocking but failing most likely. “I have a wish.”

  “A wish,” he repeated flatly.

  “Indeed, one only you can accomplish.”

  “Olympia, I… I do not know if I can be a party to… to whatever you have planned.”

  “Oh, but you very much have to be,” she said with a laugh. “Ulric, I wish we could have had all of these years together, but the Fates had other plans. Regardless, your happiness means more to me than my own, and my wish is for you to marry Rosalynne.”

  “For me to…” He gaped at her. “Wherever did you get such an absurd notion in your head?”

  “I—”

  "I do not even know how to read properly! I am being taught both how to read and write, but…"

  "For there to be no doubt that either of you deserves the crown—yourself and Rosalynne—well, there's no help for it, Ulric. You must tell everyone who you are."

  “I cannot, and I will not. This is a fool’s dream, Olympia. Besides, she is betrothed to Marcellus so there can be peace in Tenoch and peace in Vincana. It makes the most sense.”

  “It makes no sense at all. You love her, do you not?”

  “How…”

  “She cares for you, does she not?”

  “As a friend,” he said quickly.

  “A friend. How many queens have friends who had been servants?”

  “I am not a servant.”

  “Fate’s alive, no, you aren’t a servant! You are far more than a mere guard, guard to the queen or not! You are a Li, and the crown—”

  “The Lis fell.”

  “Yes, but sometimes, a fire can die out until it is just the smallest of embers before bursting back to life, hotter than ever before. Even the tiniest of sparks can—”

  “So now I am the tiniest of sparks?” he asked with a smirk.

  “You certainly aren’t fire at all,” she retorted, “not if you will not even fight for the woman you profess to love.”

  “It is not about me or Rosalynne or Marcellus. It is about the greater good.”

  “You need to do more than just hope for the best,” she insisted. “You need to have faith that you are worthy and that love is enough. What more can you possibly want?”

  “I… I do not know.”

  “Will you think on this at least?” she all but begged.

  “I suppose I owe you at least that much,” he grumbled.

  “Good. Thank you, younger brother.”

  “Are you older?”

  “I do not know, but I feel older. Wiser, surely.”

  “Is that so? You are fairer, I suppose.”

  “I would hope so,” she retorted. “You do have height and weight on me.”

  “And I would hope so on both accounts,” he said, and the two of them laughed. Ulric heaved a sigh. “You do not know what life has been for me.”

  “I do not, and I am sorry for that. If you have time, I would like to know more about what you have endured, what you wish for out of life, since marrying the woman you love is not something you wish to do.”

  “I never said I didn’t… There is more to life than the crown, Olympia.”

  “Is that the first time you have called me by name?”

  “I… I am not sure.”

  “Yes, you are right,” she uttered. “There is more to life than the crown, but what of love? Of faith, of hope? You never allowed yourself to be held back despite being a servant for how many years of your life?”

  “Eighteen,” he muttered. “Well, I was not a servant as a babe, but I was raised up to be one.”

  “And your parents? Not your birth parents.”

  “Naturally, sister.” He snorted. “Do you think I am ignorant?”

  “Maybe,” she teased, blinking back sudden tears.

  Ulric sighed again. “Do not.”

  “Do not what?”

  “Cry.”

  “I do not want to. Why do you think I am blinking so?”

  “I do not know, but you look as if you are trying to prevent your eyes from rolling out of your head.”

  She burst out laughing, and he laughed too. Teasing came so naturally to them, and she almost wished that she could stay, that they could truly get to know and befriend one another, that they could be brother and sister to each other. Alas, that could only happen if Ulric would embrace being Oldrich Li, and if he would not, then there was not a place for her here.

  And she was fine with that, so long as he was happy.

  “Well?” she asked. “The parents who raised you? Tell me about them.”

  “I cannot,” he admitted. “I hardly remember them at all.”

  “Well, that was wholly ineffectual.”

  They laughed again, and impulsively, she embraced him. After a moment, he patted her back. Just as she pulled away, he hugged her back, and Olympia had to bury her face in his tunic to hide the fact that this time, she truly was crying.

  67

  Ulric Cooper, Personal Guard to Queen Rosalynne

  Talking with Olympia had been a bit awkward at first, but the more they spoke, the more he realized she was not his enemy, and maybe she truly was his sister, and then, almost without realizing when he had accepted her entirely, he was hugging her. They spoke a great deal longer until he spied a man who had a cloth wrapped about his hand, the white cloth mostly red from blood.

  “I should go and see to him,” Ulric said.

  “Of course. You are a good man, Ulric,” she said seriously.

  He hesitated. “If you wish to call me…”

  “Oldrich,” she supplied.

  He nodded. “I suppose I would not mind if you call me that.”

  “Very well.” Her smile made her cheekbones lift even higher. “Goodbye, Oldrich.”

  “Until we meet again.” He nodded again and rushed over to the man. “Well met! What happened? Were you attacked?”

  “I was trying to hunt for my family, and the beast, it knocked into my blade.”

  Ulric removed the cloth. With all the blood, it was hard to see the wound, but the cut seemed rather smooth and straight, not jagged or irregular as one would expect from an animal attack.

  “I will take you to
the healer’s hall,” Ulric said.

  “I can manage. I think I know the way.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “I am fine,” the man snapped.

  Ulric narrowed his eyes and glanced about to see if his sister had overheard, but Olympia had gone, vanished from sight.

  The wounded man nearly had, too, but Ulric quickly caught up to him. The man sniffed and huffed, but Ulric would not be deterred.

  They headed to the healer’s hall, and Ulric paused to speak with the guard as Oswine Gass, the one in charge of the healers, approached the man.

  “I am fine,” the man protested. “I just—”

  “You are bleeding all over the place,” Oswine said. “Let Saxa have a look.”

  “No, she is busy,” the man said quickly.

  Ulric motioned to the guard to be alert and stepped a bit closer, listening to the exchange.

  “Is there a healer you have in mind then?” Oswine asked crossly. “Many fake illnesses to see Colette. She used to be a maid to, ah, Sabine, I believe, but she’s been down here for a bit, and she is beautiful to look at. That what it is?”

  “No, no. I just heard that Isabel is rather the best,” the man said.

  The guard lifted his head sharply and shifted his gaze to the back corner. Once Ulric had learned about Hamon Dannel being killed, the guard had asked Rosalynne who else in the castle also had magic in case the killer meant to strike again. He knew which healer was Isabel Faure, and he was pleased to see another guard near her. Not that he was certain this man was the killer, but…

  Ulric cleared his throat. “Guard!” He motioned for the guard to approach. “The both of you, to me. The queen has need of you.”

  The guard by Isabel looked loath to leave his charge, but he complied easily enough, and Ulric urged him and the other guard just a step out of sight from inside the healer’s hall. He counted to five, and the three of them burst back in. Ulric pointed to the left and right, and the guards split apart from him. The man had almost reached Isabel, and he had his hand reaching behind him. A weapon wasn’t readily visible, but then Ulric spied silver, and Ulric jumped over a sick child and leaped at the man, striking him clear in the back. His blade scattered on the ground, and he and Ulric almost tumbled right into Isabel. The healer with magic edged back just in time, hugging up against a table.

  Ulric rolled the man over, pinning his arms about his head as he straddled the man, sitting on his chest to hold him. “Who are you?”

  The man shook his head. “Get off of me!”

  “Did you kill Hamon?” Ulric demanded.

  “I… I won’t talk.”

  “I know you,” a woman said. She checked on her child, who was sleeping, and came over. “Yes, you’re Herry Draper. He’s a merchant from Etian. For a time, my husband and I lived there, but I was hoping that our family might be able to get ahead here in Atlan, but yes, that’s Herry.”

  “Is that your name?” Ulric asked.

  “I won’t say,” the man said desperately.

  Isabel’s guard touched the tip of his sword to the man’s throat. “Maybe try again. This man here is the personal guard to the queen. If you want any chance of maybe not being sent to the executioner’s block, you might want to do as directed by him.”

  “Yes, fine,” the man spat out. “I’m Herry Draper, and yes, I killed that servant with magic. That’s who Hamon is, I take it?”

  “Yes,” Ulric growled. “Why did you kill him? Why kill those with magic?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me,” Ulric spat out.

  The merchant said nothing, and Ulric glanced up and nodded to the guard, who applied just enough pressure with his sword to make Herry bleed.

  "I'll talk! A wraith! A wraith came to me and touched me, and I just… I knew. I knew what it… what it wanted me to do. I… The wraith… The wraith will come for me now that I failed. Kill me. Kill me, please!"

  “Herry! Think of Royse and your children!” the woman said.

  “I am.” Herry wept. “What if it goes after them instead? Please, please, protect them and kill me.”

  “That is for the queen to decide,” Ulric said, shifting to standing.

  “We’ll lock him in a cell and make sure he’s watched so he can’t…” the guard from the entrance said.

  “I’ll be back then as quick as I can,” Isabel’s guard told her.

  “I don’t think…” Ulric trailed off when he spied the rosiness of Isabel’s cheek. Well, then. “Carry on.”

  Once everything was settled with Herry, Ulric tried to find Rosalynne, but he couldn’t. The same was the case for Vivian. He really was doing a terrible job of being a personal guard to the queen considering he continually lost track of her.

  And the one person he did not particularly seek out was the one he located.

  Marcellus.

  The prince had healed from the slight cut for the most part, and thankfully, Ulric’s eye hadn’t ever turned black, only swollen. Strange. Olympia hadn’t seemed to notice he had gotten into a fight, or maybe she hadn’t wished to pry. If she had asked, he would have told her about it.

  “Have you seen the queen?” Ulric asked. “Please do not make a joke of this. We’ve located the man who killed Hamon, and she needs to know.”

  Marcellus shook his head. “I have not seen her for some time. I take it Vivian has not returned either. Is it like her to be gone for so long?”

  “Not usually,” Ulric said, “not for days, not without telling us where she was going and when she thought she would return.”

  The prince's chest expanded as he drew in a breath. "Mayhap one of us should go and try to… We have no idea where Vivian might have gone."

  Ulric pushed past the prince and headed toward the stable. What he meant to do, he did not know, but Ulric had always been a man of action. Waiting around for life to happen was not something he could do.

  Ironically enough, that was precisely what Olympia wished for him to do.

  “I will go and find them,” Ulric stated.

  "No," Marcellus argued. "I will go. You are the personal guard to the queen. Find her. She most likely hasn't left. I will seek out Vivian, and if I cannot find her, then I will go and check on my people. I should have before now. Life is a tricky balance, is it not?"

  “A balance all right and allies even with those you do not care for,” Ulric grumbled.

  To his surprise, the prince chuckled. “Indeed, that is the case, but the queen cares for you, so I suppose I should at least mayhap if I’m able to perhaps try to care for you as well.”

  Ulric shifted to the side and allowed the prince to leave. Ulric’s place was here, at the castle. The prince was right about that, but as for their ever becoming friends, that Ulric was not so certain about.

  Just what were the Rivera sisters up to?

  68

  Princess Vivian Rivera

  It was a gamble, to be sure, but Vivian allowed the Valkyries to capture her, but it was only a pretense. Her elbow flew back, straight into the nose of the one behind her, and Vivian ducked, twisted her sword around, and slammed the hilt straight into the stomach of another Valkyrie.

  More pressed in all around her, and the kiss of a blade slice against her side. Vivian hissed and drew back, bringing up her sword, and she fought against one, perhaps the Valkyrie who cut her. Yes, there was blood on the tip of the opposing blade, her blood.

  The two fought for a bit, the others crowding around, forming a circle around them. Vivian didn’t dare to look about for Horatia. The leader would have taken personally what Vivian had said, and the princess was fairly certain the Valkyrie would not hesitate to kill Vivian if provoked.

  “The Lady of Light and Darkness can save the world,” Vivian said.

  “Why do you think that?” Horatia called from somewhere behind Vivian.

  The princess sidestepped a stabbing attack, countered, and then blocked low.

  “After all,” the Valkyrie
continued, “you thought previously that the Lady of Light and Darkness would slay the last dragon. Or do you think that is how she will save the world? By killing the dragon? The dragons are our saviors.”

  “The dragon has distorted you, used you, twisted you. You used to be—”

  “We used to be pawns,” Horatia spat out.

  Vivian winced at the bitterness of her tone. As if feeding on the hatred spewing from the Valkyrie's leader, Vivian's foe fought that much harder and fiercer, and another two besides joined the first, forcing Vivian to focus on fighting so that she did not die. More cuts marred her body, and blood trickled down her sides, but she struggled to continue on, unwilling to bow down.

  All she had hoped to do was to either find enough hope within herself to be the third sacrifice or else find the one who could be sacrificed in the name of that most precious entity. Or perhaps, if she could determine who might be the Lady of Light and Darkness, that would have been a massive boon.

  Instead, she found the Valkyries, or perhaps they had found her.

  Mayhap the Fates had guided them to her. Mayhap her entire life had already been decided before she had even drawn her first breath, and she was merely a puppet, a slave, enacting what had already been assigned to her, a role instead of a life.

  She had spent a great deal of time in Atlan, observing the ruins, the buildings abandoned, the poor left behind who refused to move into the castle. She urged them to reconsider, but they merely stared at her with their dirty faces and torn clothes. Despite their circumstances, they were survivors, and perhaps they would outlive them all.

  A slice to the back of her calf had her almost tumbling to the ground, but frustration had her unarming one Valkyrie, and another she knocked unconscious.

  “The Lord of Light and Darkness slew the dragons, and I would hardly say that he was a good and just man for what he did,” Horatia said. “The Lady of Light and Darkness will be just as wicked, just as vile, and no, she will not be a Valkyrie, but I will tell you this, Vivian Rivera. We will hunt her down, and we will kill her. How then will your world be saved if your diabolical savior is slain?”