Fire and Fantasy: A Limited Edition Collection of Urban and Epic Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  The Queen picked at the scraps of food left by her husband as Ali-Steven spoke, “When I become king, I will change the law of arranged marriage.”

  His mother laughed and remarked, “Every prince has said that but they seem to forget after they perform their duty and become king. They realize that they need to unite strong, stable families for the good of the realm. If kings and princes started to marry for love, the kingdom would surely crumble.”

  He retorted, “Or it could be taken to new glory. What about the stories of King Henaren or King Martelle? They married for love and their kingdoms prospered and even expanded during their rule.”

  His mother smiled and commented, “You need to stop listening to stories for inspiration, my sweet boy. They give false hope in a dark and unforgiving world. Do you believe the stories about your father? These are some in the same vein, I fear. I wish you had a chance to pick the bride of your choosing and get to know her fully before the ceremony. I really do. You don’t even know if you’re going to fall madly in love with Parys when you lay eyes on her again. How do you know love won’t fill your heart?”

  “I just know. I know that sounds really stupid but I don’t like being forced into anything.”

  She stopped picking at the food and looked into her son’s eyes. “Nobody likes being forced to do something. Look at me. No one has been forced to do more than me in the name of duty. I don’t like most of it, but I do it. That is what life as a member of the royal family is, not some pretty words on a page.”

  Four

  Six Months Later…

  The heir to the throne of Donegal smiled at the serving girl as she filled his goblet to the brim again.

  The King cried, “You better not let his cup go empty or I’ll have you quartered in Wamhoff Square.”

  Ali-Steven looked around the Fox’s Den at the celebration in honor of his upcoming marriage. It seemed strange to him that none of the Etburns were in attendance. The hall was nearly full with the nobility of the Capitol, Falconhurst. He felt out of place and guilty. His inebriation helped deal with the sorrow of his secret marriage that none of his family, except Ali-Ryen, knew about.

  He had been making secret trips to see Rilah, but he was growing tired of all the deception. He was caught in the middle, having to lie to both of his families.

  The hall was adorned in richly-decorated tapestries and paintings celebrating the Wamhoffs.

  “To your upcoming matrimony,” announced Lord Raymund as he held up his jewel-studded chalice.

  All the surrounding guests raised their drinks and joined in. Ali-Steven smiled politely and thanked everyone, but he was torn apart on the inside. Leading a double life had taken a toll on the young man and the arranged wedding was only six months away.

  “Don’t look so happy, Ali-Steven, not like this is a feast in your honor,” teased Lord Terrents.

  Ali-Steven forced a grin and replied, “I’m happy, just a bit tired from all the sweet nectar of the Gods.” He took another drink and forced another smile.

  Lord Terrents guffawed and told the Prince, “I guess there’s one event your father can defeat you in.”

  The older man’s face reddened when he apparently realized how loud his voice was. It had cut through an odd moment of silence. He chuckled again after he confirmed that the King hadn’t heard him.

  Ali-Steven wanted to stand up on the table of honor and tell everyone the truth. As he kept drinking, the temptation to divulge the real story multiplied. He felt more comfortable with Rilah and her family than with the upper echelon of society.

  He looked at his father, who was always drinking, but rarely completely drunk. The King slurred his words tonight. He struggled with normal vocabulary and resorted to vulgarity. Ali-Steven tried to stay away from him, but his father kept calling him over so he didn’t stray very far. After a year and a half in the Capitol, the Prince realized how much he loved his mother and how much he hated his father.

  His father stood for everything he loathed. He didn’t mind that his father wasn’t a sportsman or warrior, many men weren’t, but he couldn’t stand the false bravado and constant lying to look good. Ali-Steven disagreed with all of his father’s decisions, although his voice had been silenced to protect his wife and new family. He didn’t want to anger the King and fall under further scrutiny from his spies.

  He saw his mother and two brothers and walked over to them. Ali-Stanley and Tersen ran away as he approached.

  Queen Tomeo shook her head and said, “We throw a great feast in your honor, yet I see pain behind those once-vibrant eyes of my son. You’re a prince and yet, you’re never happy. How come?”

  If you only knew. Should I tell her? She would probably be the only one to understand.

  “Mother, if you had a secret that was gnawing away at you, but dangerous to reveal, but also drove you to the point of madness, would you reveal it?” he rambled.

  She stared into his eyes and tears began to form as she said, “Everyone has secrets, I’m afraid. Most of which they can never tell. I hold secrets that would put many people’s lives in danger. I would love to talk about these things but I simply cannot. As you grow older, there will be many instances when you can’t tell everyone exactly how you feel. It’s a nasty part of being a member of the royal family as you need to say things that you don’t firmly believe in. Do you know the story of Queen Harriet?”

  “I do.” He confirmed.

  His mother continued as she gripped his forearm with her right hand, “Well, allow me to remind you again. She lived right here in this castle and enjoyed all the comforts of life. She bore King Ali-Antwelle three healthy sons and everyone thought the royal couple was happy as can be. But she held a secret. She had fallen in love with Sir Wallace Reedhurst. She had a choice to make. Keep silent and maintain a hidden relationship or tell the king of her true feelings. Do you know what choice she made?”

  “She confessed to the king,” he told her.

  “And what happened?” she asked.

  He lowered his head and answered, “They were rounded up and the King’s men held her eyes open as they tortured and killed Sir Wallace. Queen Harriet had her breasts cut off and was scourged from the kingdom.”

  “Yes, she was. So much for true love or a king’s compassion because neither exists. So you must ask yourself, is this secret worth revealing? I want to know what you are withholding more than anyone I can assure you, but not if it puts someone in danger. We all keep our secrets, my sweet son, it’s what helps us to stay alive.” His mother laughed but Ali-Steven wasn’t smiling.

  He had heard exactly what he expected and knew Rilah would never be a legitimate bride in the eyes of his father. He couldn’t stop thinking about her and wanted her there by his side. His mother’s story just reaffirmed how trapped the young man felt. He needed to tell someone the truth other than his twelve-year-old brother. He noticed his sister, Ali-Pari, leaving the grand hall and an idea struck him.

  Ali-Pari is only here for the next few months and then she goes back to Waters Edge. She would be the only one who could keep the truth hidden. Will she tell my mother or Ali-Stanley? She is close to him, but she may be the only one. She understands how it feels to be forced into marriage. She fought my father’s will involving the union with Tyus Etburn. But she eventually caved in.

  The next day, the Wamhoffs finished breaking their fast in the Princess Hall.

  Ali-Steven got up to go see his wife but his father said, “Ali-Ryen and Ali-Steven, you need to come with me so I can show you something.”

  Ali-Stanley asked, “Should I come too, father?”

  “No. You and your pale shadow can go practice needlepoint.” The King laughed and shooed away Tersen and Ali-Stanley. He turned to his other two sons. “Let’s go.”

  Ali-Baster ordered two guards to lead them into the kitchens. They went into a storage room near the back and Sir Genrick removed a hidden door. The five men entered and started to descend a steep set of steps. Ali-St
even felt chilly when the temperature dropped precipitously as they kept going. The stairs ended and they came to a long hallway that contained the foul odor of the dead. He assumed they were at the dungeons but he didn’t see any cells lining the sides of the walkway.

  The two guards helped Ali-Baster push open the enormous brass door, while the hinges creaked ominously. The stench from bodies in varying degrees of putrefaction almost knocked Ali-Steven off his feet. He had encountered some strong smells at war, but nothing like this. He covered his nose and tried to breathe through his mouth, but he could taste the lingering funk.

  The guards waited outside as the King shoved his two sons through the open door. Ali-Steven walked into a torch-lit open chamber of death altars with black, preserved bodies on top of them. Words had been etched into each stone altar and he quickly discovered these were former Kings of Donegal.

  His father spoke, and his voice echoed hollowly, “These are your relatives. You’ve heard all the stories, but to be able to see the body of our former kings, it adds validity to the stories. Our family has always believed in preserving dead bodies and allowing the soul to escape into the heavens. The process grew out of favor as the years passed, but this is one tradition we need to uphold.”

  He walked past the body of King Ali-Dus, the first supreme ruler of Donegal who had died almost four hundred years ago.

  His father pointed to an empty altar as he spoke, “This spot is reserved for yours truly.” He tapped the top of the stone slab. “I will rest here for all of eternity and so will you two if you behave properly.” He read the inscription out loud, “King Ali-Baster, the greatest Wamhoff King to ever rule. Swordsman, warrior, huntsman, scholar and virile father.”

  Good thing there is plenty of blank space left. I’m sure you can fill it up with your filthy little lies, father.

  His father continued. “Unless your brothers start acting like real men, their bodies are destined for an unmarked ditch, never to be remembered.”

  They kept moving around the crypt as the King went on, “I need you two to toughen up your brothers, push them around a bit. I want you to be as rough with them as you are with Ali-Ryen.” He directed his last sentence toward Ali-Steven.

  The heir of Donegal objected, “But Ali-Ryen can handle it. The other two cry every time I try to engage them physically. It’s no fun for me.”

  The King had a nasty smile on his fat lips. “Let them cry. I want you to beat and torture them until they become men and stop with all the crying and whining. Hit them with the flat of a sword a hundred times if you must.”

  “I don’t know father, seems rather cruel,” Ali-Steven opined.

  The King looked over his sons with a face of disappointment and warned, “Cruel. You want to see cruel, boys? If you don’t carry out my orders, I will know. I will have both of you followed to make sure you are carrying out my commands. If you don’t follow my words, I’ll have my guards inflict worse punishment on you until I deem that you’ve learned your lesson. My guards will be happy to enforce my orders, you can believe that. Alright now, this isn’t a suggestion, it’s a king’s command and you two are going to carry it out. That’s how it works. So can I trust that this will be done?”

  “Yes, father,” both boys said in unison.

  An evil grin came over Ali-Baster’s face. “That’s the answer I wanted to hear. Now go do it.”

  Ali-Steven had promised to see Rilah today but he needed to carry out this duty first. He didn’t want to harass his brothers physically, but he really didn’t feel like taking a beating for refusing his father. He found Ali-Stanley and Tersen in the solar with Ali-Pari and two other ladies.

  Ali-Steven looked at his brothers and said, “Father’s ordered us to go outside.”

  Ali-Stanley objected, “I don’t want to go outside.” He sipped his steaming tea and sat back in the plush chair.

  Ali-Steven got very serious and said, “Both of you are going outside whether you like it or not. Get up now or Ali-Ryen and I will drag you out. I don’t want to do this, but I have to.”

  “What is the meaning of this?” his older sister, Ali-Pari, asked.

  He looked at her and said, “I’ll explain everything to you later. Ali-Ryen and I have to do this.”

  Ali-Pari interjected, “No you don’t. Stop this right now.”

  His youngest brother started smacking Tersen in the back of the head and telling him to get up. Ali-Steven looked outside the door at the two members of the King’s Guard and knew what he had to do. He grabbed Ali-Stanley by his robes and started dragging him out of the room. He ripped the fabric as his sizable brother resisted his efforts.

  “I’m not going outside.” Ali-Stanley curled up on the floor.

  Ali-Steven looked back at the guard again and shouted at his brother, “Get up.” He started kicking Ali-Stanley even as Ali-Pari tried to pull him away from behind.

  Ali-Steven snapped and screamed, “Enough already. Sir Willem and Sir Arthur, please escort my unwilling brothers to the practice yard.”

  Sir Willem pulled his sword. Ali-Stanley jumped up and Tersen headed for the door. The reluctant brothers walked slowly toward the practice yard. Ali-Steven felt terrible for having to do this but Ali-Ryen looked to be enjoying it with a big smile on his face. Ali-Pari threatened to get the Queen and ran off in the other direction.

  They got to the training yard and his brothers stopped crying. Each prince was given a wooden sword.

  Ali-Steven told them, “Look, all you have to do is fight back. If you don’t fight back, father’s ordered us to beat you mercilessly.”

  “That certainly does fit our father, merciless,” Ali-Stanley opined in a snotty tone.

  The heir to the throne said, “Ali-Stanley, you practice with me and Ali-Ryen and Tersen will practice together.”

  He looked at Ali-Stanley fumbling the sword from hand to hand. Ali-Steven took a quick stroke and lightly smacked his brother’s blade. The well-crafted piece of wood went tumbling to the ground.

  “What are you doing?” Ali-Steven questioned.

  “I don’t know, I’m nervous,” his twin responded.

  He looked around at a nearly empty practice yard. “There’s no one here and we’re using wooden swords. How can you possibly be nervous?”

  Ali-Stanley looked right at him and spoke emotionally, “Do you know who you are? Do you know how people talk about you? You’re the perfect prince and I’m just your unworthy twin. You’ve gone away to war. You’ve killed men, grown men. I’m nervous because I’ve always been nervous around you. You don’t know what it’s like to grow up in someone’s shadow. It’s a dark and cold and lonely place, but you would never understand that. All people do is compare me to you and I can never measure up. I just want to be Ali-Stanley, not Ali-Steven’s twin brother.”

  The outpouring made him see his brother in a sympathetic light for the first time. He had always thought that his brother was jealous for petty reasons. He wondered if the roles had been reversed and natural physical gifts hadn’t been bestowed upon him, what life would have been like. He wanted to throw down his sword until he felt a nudge in the back from Sir Willem.

  He remembered his duty and said, “I fellow feel for you but I can’t resent my accomplishments or achievements. Here, hold your sword like this and get your hand above your belt line and don’t let it drop below that level. Attack me.”

  Ali-Stanley kept maneuvering his stance and switching the sword from hand to hand. Ali-Steven glanced over at Ali-Ryen relentlessly peppering Tersen on the shoulder with the sword until one stroke cracked the little albino in the face.

  Ali-Steven warned his little brother, “No, Ali-Ryen. Don’t hit him in the face like that.”

  “But Sir Arthur told me to,” the twelve-year-old responded.

  “I want to go back inside,” said a sobbing Tersen as he tried to run but was quickly captured by the guards.

  Sir Arthur threatened, “Don’t make us pick up them wooden sticks and te
ach you a real lesson. Your tiny brother is a better opponent for you. You run again and I’m not going to be so nice.”

  Ali-Steven looked back at his twin and said, “Attack me.”

  Ali-Stanley came at him with a wild stroke that Ali-Steven defended easily and the sword once again hit the ground. Sir Willem pushed Ali-Steven in the back. The heir turned around to see the knight of the King’s Guard with his hand around his worn sword grip.

  The giant man said, “Either you hit him or I hit the both of you.”

  Ali-Steven reluctantly swatted his brother with the flat of the wooden blade on both arms and shoulders. He occasionally poked his brother’s plump belly with the point of the blade. He felt awful but continued with the light attack. He didn’t want to abuse his brother, but the guards kept reminding him and Ryen of the consequences.

  He tried to work with Ali-Stanley, but his brother was useless with a sword. His twin dropped the weapon almost every time it came in contact with another object. It was incomprehensible to Ali-Steven why his brother couldn’t even put up a feeble defense to avoid the one-sided beating.

  Ali-Steven heard a loud stomping sound from behind.

  A swarm of marching men in full armor with battle shields came rushing toward the practice yard. Ali-Steven noticed they had their swords drawn and as they neared, he noticed the symbols on the red shields. A winged golden angel indicated the Queen’s Guard of Donegal. They walked up to the princes and came to a uniform stop. Queen Tomeo and Princess Ali-Pari emerged from behind the wall of guards.

  His mother spoke in a stern voice, “I should have known it was you two.” She pointed at the King’s Guard.

  “Just following orders, my Queen, nothing more,” said Sir Arthur.

  He and Sir Willem slunk away in the opposite direction.

  Ali-Stanley and Tersen ran over to their mother and sister.

  The Queen exclaimed, “Look at my poor sons.”

  She inspected the sword marks and bruises as she shook her head in disgust.