Devourer: A Minister Knight Novel (The Minister Knights Series Book 2)

by Nicole Givens Kurtz

  “Akub,” Zykeiah nudged.

  “The people often discuss their dissatisfaction with their station. They long to use their newfound currency to escape servitude. I’ve seen it pan out over other kingdoms.”

  “Amana could be the lure,” Zykeiah said.

  “A small bunch of bellyaching troublemakers.” Kalah stood up. Disdain ruined his features.

  “Sit!” Marion slammed his fist on the table.

  Sarah jumped; Kalah froze.

  “Shame is an overpowering emotion,” Akub said.

  “She had nothing to be ashamed of!” Kalah shouted, clutching his fist.

  Zykeiah quirked an eyebrow. “Snatching Marion’s soul for starters.”

  “Enough with the past!” Sarah shouted.

  “The condemned only die once, but the executioner dies every time.” Akub knew these words by heart. Her life stretched onward toward redemption.

  “You’d know something about that, wouldn’t you?” Kalah spat.

  Akub met his angry eyes. “I’m comfortable with my shame, Kalah. Was Amana?”

  19

  A Mother’s Confession

  From the Great Hall’s entranceway, the queen watched and listened. The horror of Amana’s escape didn’t surprise her. Zykeiah had good instincts, and she’d never trusted Sarah’s sister, not since she snatched Marion’s soul. Amana lacked Sarah's spirit and overall good nature. She relied solely on whomever could serve her needs best. This was no secret, except perhaps to Kalah. At the moment, it was now Manola who suited the woman’s desires. For what?

  Amana had married Kalah shortly after Marion and Sarah's wedding. Too quickly. It had given Zoë pause as well, and she immediately sought the oracle for answers. That’s when the illness took hold of her and began to eat away her stomach.

  Before Marion's wedding, neither Kalah nor Amana had mentioned their desire to marry. In fact, rumors circled amongst the servants that Kalah's interest in Amana had waned, and he had been seen in the East Hall with Mary, his former woman of choice. The prince had a reputation for loving ladies, and so it surprised her that her son chose Amana to wed.

  Queen Zoë’s eyes fell on Sarah, whose face was wet with tears. She opened her mouth to speak, nothing came. Zoë could not bear Sarah’s grief. So she silently prayed.

  Please Goddess, take her grief into your arms and swallow it, pushing deep within your bowels, never allowing it to see the light of day.

  Sarah stumbled to her feet. Marion grabbed her arm before she completely lost her balance. She tried to wrestle out of his grip; he held her fast, pulling her back into his chest, tightening his arms around her. Still, they had clearly missed something of importance. Zoë swept into the hall and said, “Sit, ministers. Be calm. This is no time to be rash. Amana has already left the castle. We must not be rash.”

  Marion stood, but still held Sarah’s hand. “We cannot have this discussion here.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Let us retire to the library.” Marion hoisted Sarah to her feet. He whispered into her ear, and she shuddered against him, her quiet weeping muffled by his chest.

  Queen Zoë led the way out of the Great Hall, with the ministers on her heels. She stopped, hesitated, and then turned to them. “Akub, you come also.”

  Zoë continued, making a right outside the Great Hall and heading down the short hallway to the double wooden doors of the royal library. Here she paused, her stomach tight with nervousness. With a glance back at the group, she gestured everyone in. A thick silence hung among them. Zoë enjoyed the library and the open space of the sitting room, fireplace, and the books.

  Almost immediately, Chloe appeared from the Great Hall carrying a tray filled with mugs. She placed the tray on one of the large tables and left. The queen remained standing at the door, waiting for all of them to get comfortable.

  Zykeiah sat on a two-person sofa beside Akub. Kalah, restless and unusually quiet, stood by the library’s window and gazed out at the falling snow. His profile showed a man lost in concentration. Marion and Sarah sat in two chairs that rested near the fireplace. The fireplace was ablaze, warming the room with its huge flames.

  Once inside, Queen Zoë said to Chloe, “Guard the door so that none enter.”

  “Yes ma’am.” With that said, she closed the door.

  Zoë pointed to the mugs where spirals of steam floated up and vanished into the air. “Hot tea, courtesy of Saturn Four. Drink for the day grows colder, and there is much work to plan and do.”

  Zykeiah got up and passed out the hot, steamy mugs to everyone before keeping the last one and taking her seat by Akub. Queen Zoë held hers in her hand as if for warmth and strength.

  “What I must say must go no farther than this room, for there are strangers about,” Queen Zoë said. “Many of the servants who work with us now know that I took a servant as my husband, and upon the death of my mother, he and I ruled Veloris as king and queen. Still it would not do for others of the royal family and ministers to give validity to what is considered legend.”

  “Mother, you do not have to do this,” Marion said, his voice soft and injured as if it had been bruised by the incident with Amana. “One’s curiosity could lead to our undoing. One careless sway of the tongue…”

  She waved him off as if his concern was nothing more than a fly on the wall.

  “You and Kalah must know the truth before I leave this planet for the afterworld of G’hana. You must all know the truth, for now it is not only important, but the fate of our kingdom rests upon it. Oh, goddess, I should have seen this approaching, but I was too wrapped up in the lives of my sons…”

  At this, Kalah turned from the window to look at her. His face shone with confusion, and it mirrored the expression on Marion’s face.

  They do not understand, she thought.

  “It was many, many rotations ago, before Valek and before the soul cages that claimed Sarah, Zykeiah, and many other souls…” Zoë took a deep breath, and continued. “I was a young princess, the only child of an arranged marriage between my stepmother, Princess Zanna of Earth 3001, and Prince Avery of Saturn Six. My own mother died when I was quite young. I barely remember her face. Yet, Zanna was my mother, and I thought of her as such. In all things, my father and Zanna quarreled, each refusing to bend to the other’s will. You see, it was this vision of arranged marriage I sought to escape. It was my father’s wish that I marry Prince Evon of Saturn Four, a handsome man to look upon, but beneath his lovely visage, lay a cold, evil man. He abused his servants and mistreated them at will. For that, I could not marry him. His heart lay deep within the far reaches of Lake O’daa, frozen and hard.”

  At this, she shuddered and sipped her tea. Zoë’s face, damp with tears, the creases in her skin deepened. She glanced at Akub, who remained silent as she often did when she felt it was not her place to speak.

  “In the past, when the kingdoms were friendly, long before Valek’s cages and the arrival of the minister knights, the only concern of my parents was my wedding,” Queen Zoë said slowly and traced the lip of mug, her expression troubled.

  Zykeiah smirked in understanding. The practice was also common on Saturn Four. Women, especially princesses, were traded as commodities to young princes, sometimes even old princes to solidify alliances or expand and unite kingdoms against other enemies. The joining of a king and queen was rarely for love. Love was unimportant, unpredictable, and unwieldy. Kings often were used to getting their way, having their every wish obeyed; thus, a daughter’s will meant nothing. She would do what he said, and that was the end of it.

  “Prince Evon was a cruel man, and the people of Saturn Four hated him. He was not in line to the throne, thank the goddess, for he was the youngest of the king’s four sons. Still, this knowledge seemed to shove the prince into worse acts of cruelty, using his birthright as royalty to deflect consequences for his actions.”

  “He was a horrid man,” Zykeiah said.

  “…I refused to marry him. This, as yo
u can imagine, infuriated my father. We quarreled so often that I avoided seeing him at meals and even ran away from the castle, to Stocklah, where I cherished the time alone, away from the endless battles between my father and me,” Zoë continued with a sigh. Here she smiled at Kalah and Marion. You’re not the only ones to flee to the oasis.

  “My mother used to say that the streak of stubbornness snaked throughout my father’s blood line, and I must say I have succeeded in passing it on to you,” she said, nodding at her sons. “While in Stocklah, I happened upon a man. Or shall I say he happened upon me. He came from the cave, where hidden deep in its bowels was a Circle, much like the Circle of Allerton. It had brought him to our world. So frightened was I of his presence that I fled, all the way back to the castle.”

  “A Circle? Inside the cave?” Zykeiah’s mouth slacked in shock. “I have been inside the cave often and have happened upon no such thing.”

  Queen Zoë’s gray eyes connected with hers. “Yes, dear child, there is indeed a Circle, but now it goes to nowhere. Veloris III is no more. The Circle is deep, farther than I have known any other to go inside the cave, but it linked our worlds. Here is where Marshall came forth to Veloris. Fleeing from the elves’ attacks on humans, he came to the castle, and a young Patches saved him from freezing to death. He was not of this world and not prepared for its cold, unforgiving weather.”

  “He came to live in the castle and served my parents and I,” Queen Zoë continued, her eyes watering with fond memories that only she could see. “…he was so loyal to us. Sometime later, when my father passed, it was he who I turned to for comfort, and in my grief, finally acknowledged what I had long since hid within my heart. That I indeed loved him and had loved him since my eyes landed upon him at Stocklah…”

  Tears coursed down her face, but the queen made no movement to wipe them away. “It was then that he, too, confessed his love for me. With my father dead and the arrangement between me and Prince Evon long since over, which my father paid a large sum to dissolve, I was free to marry Marshall. My mother blessed our union, as did Octiva, my mother’s servant and oracle priestess. Within a year’s time, I was with child, that be you, Marion.”

  Marion smiled and glanced over to Kalah.

  “So the king was not royalty,” Akub said.

  “No. He was not.”

  No one breathed. Several tense moments passed before saying more.

  “Yes, I have rejected the requests of the people to move beyond the castle’s borders. It was not until today that I remembered how Marshall felt about being a servant and what it meant to him to be free. Not all are called to be servants; their will is too strong to service others. And with those who will flee, it is obvious that my family’s hold on the throne is loose.” Zoë looked to Akub.

  “What does this have to do with my wife?” Kalah cried.

  “There are those who will remain, for it suits them to be servants to the throne,” Zykeiah said, ignoring Kalah. “There are always those who remain loyal.”

  Queen Zoë folded her hands around her mug. “Surely, Kalah, you see the duality of the situation. Here I sit and reject servants, when my own husband had been one of them. He was not even of this planet!”

  Kalah shook his head in disbelief. “I knew my father, and he was not a servant!”

  “You think your mother lies then, Kalah?” Sarah asked, standing up and stepping over toward the queen. “She is still queen, and…”

  His face contorted into nightmarish concentration. Confusion stained his usually handsome face, and behind his eyes, terror gazed out. Her judgment was clear. Amana would be delivered to the executioner if she returned to the castle.

  No one betrays the minister knights and lives.

  Marion stood, too, but he did not interfere. He glanced at Zykeiah who was still seated. She shook her head.

  “Do not forget, son, that I am still queen,” Queen Zoë said, finally wiping her face. “And I still rule. My word is law. I am not consulting you, Kalah. I am telling you that this will come to pass. And I will not speak untruths to you. Your father was a servant.”

  Kalah stiffened. “It is as you wish, your highness.”

  She bowed her head in thanks to him, and he stalked out of the library, leaving his mug on the table by the window untouched.

  Queen Zoë watched him go, her face grave. “When I am gone, he will have no one by his side. Marion, he is your brother. Do not forget that when the time arises and you must choose…”

  With that, she placed her mug on the central table and left, her long cloak floating after her like the memories of her long dead love.

  Marion did not speak, nor did Sarah.

  “What do we do about Amana?” Akub whispered to Zykeiah.

  Zykeiah said, “Those who want to be free of servitude will eagerly follow Amana into Lundlei. Once Manola has amassed a large enough group, she will come for us.”

  Akub added, “Too many souls, too little world.”

  Sarah spoke, breaking her silence. “That is what I believe also.”

  Marion said, “I agree. We must stop whatever is going on across the Capolla River before it is too late. I’m not in favor of being a sitting kowletta.”

  “Tomorrow isn’t soon enough.” Akub leaned forward in her seat.

  “No, but it will do.” Marion gestured to them. “We must be strong and prepared. Rushing in without regard is too dangerous.”

  “Agreed,” came a firm and powerful voice from the doorway.

  Octiva had returned.

  * * *

  Queen Zoë hurried from the library and started up the stairs, heading for her bedchamber. She said nothing. Her heart pounded in her chest with such fury that she felt dizzy, and she anxiously grabbed the wall for support as she reached the top of the stairs. She staggered into her outer room.

  As soon as she closed the silver screen behind her, Zoë placed her head in her hands and wept.

  20

  The Cold Creeps In

  The library emptied. Marion and Sarah left first, followed several minutes later by Octiva and, at last, Zykeiah. Dark thoughts plagued Akub, and she knew Marion’s words held truth. Something across the Capolla River grew—wild and dark. She could feel its sinister being flow across the icy river waters and hover over the castle like a violent storm cloud waiting to unload its contents onto the building and all that resided inside.

  Akub lingered as the others departed, and she cupped her hands around the mug. Here the solitude embraced her, leaving her loneliness intact. An unquenchable thirst rose up against her throat, and she longed for the orb. Without it, she had managed to recover much of her strength, but the orb made her so much more powerful. She could devour any obstacle in her path. She closed her eyes and relished the quiet. Nothing would be the same after she left the library’s solitude. Out there, Manola plotted, waiting, like the night to extinguish the light of the day.

  Zykeiah returned, leaning against the wall not far from the library’s entrance. Akub could hear the exhaustion in her voice. “You know, we don’t know for sure, Akub. We’re filling in the gaps. Manola could be well off.”

  Akub rubbed her temple. “Life can be a cruel task master.”

  “Yes.” Zykeiah pushed off the wall, grimaced, and came to her. “Come here.”

  She pulled Akub into her arms. “Headache. This is why you should eat.”

  “Shush.” Akub managed as they started down the hall toward her quarters.

  Once they made it to Zykeiah’s quarters, the minister helped Akub into the rocking chair. After starting the fire, Zykeiah pulled on her heavy cloak and strapped on her thigh daggers. She avoided direct eye contact.

  “Where are you going?” Akub looked up from the now very cold tea.

  “Out.”

  “To search?”

  “Now you’ve got the wind of things.” Zykeiah smiled.

  “What if you run into her? Them?”

  Across from her, the minister knight put her
hands on her hips. “I’m sick of sitting here waiting for death to come. I want to find Manola and slice her face off.”

  “You can’t control everything.” Akub’s temples throbbed, and she closed her eyes to ward off the sharp, stabbing pains. Just behind the pangs, her mind burned with questions, hunches, and suspicions.

  “You can’t expect me to swallow this bowl of hot gosha! Allow me to do what I must with what I can,” Zykeiah retorted, snatched opened the door, and disappeared.

  Akub opened her mouth to stop her, but then closed it. The acute light tortured her vision, and she got up, stumbled into Zykeiah’s bedchamber. She climbed into the bed and shut her eyes against the light. The cool air blew through the tiny cracks in the stones. She wanted things between her and Zy to be harmonious. Unlike the people of Saturn Four, who often were dangerous and warlike, those of Veloris held a certain naïveté of the kingdoms beyond. Akub watched the fireplace’s fire, her thoughts wearing into the fuzziness. The creepiness bled into her being. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they all were tumbling toward something great and awful, converging toward a horrid apex that would change them all forever. Outside thunder rumbled. More snow threatened.

  Akub gazed at the flames, feeling as if she should cry, but unable to do so. Her fear had consumed her the day she battled Manola with the minister knights. True, it had only been seven days prior, but she felt as if it had been many rotations ago. The entire affair had aged her, hardened her like the water of Lake Ari during the winter. Her chest grew tight, and she tried to breathe through the thoughts of the approaching doom.

  Unable to sleep, she climbed out of the bed and back into the chair. She turned from the fire to face the window that overlooked the Greenery. Outside, the day marched on toward the afternoon with the threatening dark clouds of snow and malice rumbling overhead. She pulled one of the books from the library onto her lap. She’d taken the book from the stacks. She turned to the pages and read…