“Promise? What promise?” She said, her voice having lost every trace of anger.
“Princess, if you’re not going to remember the promises you make, you are going to have a hard time ruling a kingdom.”
“Okay,” she thought, “you may look different, but you’re still the same old Froggy.”
She felt the strong, hard muscles of his arm beneath the delicate fabric. As they neared the tree she could see the circular table that awaited them in the shade. It was laden with bowls, plates and platters, all overflowing with bounty. Dionara surveyed the feast. There were peaches, pears, apples and plums all huge, ripe and perfect. She eyed the strawberries in cream, but was distracted by the fragrance of freshly baked bread. Suddenly she was ravenous.
“Wine, my Lady?” Froggy’s voice spurred her to action and she began to sample the delicacies.
“Why yes, thank you.” She said, slightly embarrassed as peach juice dripped down her chin.
The flavors were like nothing she had ever tasted, familiar but somehow richer, more complex. The greatest fair of her court paled by comparison, as a sketch would pale next to the living form of the model. She looked to her host as he poured wine from an etched crystal decanter and was mesmerized. The carved figures appeared to be moving. They were riders on horseback that galloped in sparkles of brilliant color as they spiraled up the decanter.
He noted her interest. “Isn’t it beautiful my Lady, it’s the work of one of our finest artists. Any movement will refract the light and send the riders on their way.”
She took her wine glass and turned it slowly as she examined the etching of children at play that encircled the glass. “Beautiful,” was all she could say.
“Now my lady,” he spoke as she took her first tentative sip, “I will answer any question you have and many you do not know to ask.” Froggy watched as her face took on an expression of ultimate pleasure, more from the wine than his statement it seemed, since she finished the contents with impressive speed. “Which won’t matter of course, because if you keep drinking like that you won’t remember a thing.”
“Sorry.” Dionara’s mischievous eyes and coy smile belied her apology. “Answers? No evasions, parables or questions answered with questions?” Her tone was a bit doubtful.
He looked straight into her eyes, “I will tell you that the reason we are here today is not only to give you what you want; but also, to give you what you will very soon need.”
A refilled glass in one hand and a strawberry dipped with cream in the other, Dionara leaned back to consider his proposal. Much like a cat considers a mouse. Froggy, with a mischievous smile of his own, waited patiently for her response. As she drew breath to launch her first barrage of questions against his, up until then, impenetrable wall of misdirection, she saw a hawk gliding to land beyond a nearby rise in the field. Froggy’s eyes unfocused and his expression changed from playful to deadly serious. A white light flashed from the direction of the rise.
“Excuse me my Lady.” Froggy apologized as he stood and hastily departed.
Frustrated beyond belief, Dionara could do nothing but watch and wait. Moments after Froggy disappeared from view, her vision was once again filled with light. This time though, it was a brilliant emerald green. Once her eyes readjusted she realized someone was approaching. He appeared to be a young man, strong, tall and dressed in forest green.
The stranger knelt. “Princess, the Caretaker wishes me to express his profound apologies, urgent circumstances have called him away and he hopes that you will except my company until he is able to return.”
Slowly, a cold feeling of vulnerability rippled up her back as she realized that she was in a strange land and the only person she knew or trusted was gone. Her playful mood had vanished and her actions in coming here seemed reckless. “I’m a Princess,” she thought, “I can handle this.” She took a deep breath as her fear subsided, “What is your name?”
“John, my Lady.” His head bowed in respect.
“Well John, it looks like Froggy gave up a perfectly good meal, I hope it was worth it. Please join me.”
“With pleasure My Lady.”
As he moved to seat himself across from her, Dionara looked into his eyes. For some reason it revived her memories of the mist. “Yes. The water.”
“My Lady, I know you have many questions, but first if I may, I would like to welcome you on behalf of all the Forest Dwellers to the home of your mother’s birth. Our love for her was only exceeded by the grief we felt at her death.”
“What?” Dionara froze.
Interlude
At Sea
Sunlight spilled across maps haphazardly strewn, his eyes idly followed the progression of highlight and shadow as it mirrored the rhythm of the ship. “When will this incessant voyage end?” A knock at the door awoke him from his thoughts. “Enter.”
Tall, trim, and wrapped in the furs of a long ocean voyage, Kalibra entered the cabin. Her golden hair wreathed in morning light swayed with fluid movement, while her radiant self-confidence reflected the training and heritage by which she had become the Warrior Queen. “My Lord, land has been sighted. The captain believes we will make harbor by late day.” She smiled in anticipation of an adventure soon to begin.
“Excellent!” He drank in the beauty of her magnificent flame. “How should we celebrate such wonderful news?” He added as his hand slipped behind her neck to draw her close.
In a blur of speed that had cost many men their lives in battle, Kalibra freed herself from his grasp and tossed her furs aside. Slowly, she moved to the bed and untied her leggings to remove the last barrier between her passion and her lord. She leaned back open and inviting while her fingernails ran lightly across her inner thigh. “I don’t know? What did you have in mind?” She asked. His laughter made her skin tingle.
As much as her body aroused him, her flame exhilarated him. He could feel her hunger and energy grow with each caress, each hard passionate kiss. His spirit entered hers to blend with her growing flame. She was power, strength and violence. Infuriated by his gentle touch, she could wait no longer and straddled him to feed her hunger.
Guided by her inner flame, he increased her desire as she thrust harder and faster, but to no avail, for he kept her prize at bay. He brought her to the edge again and again, each plateau more intense than the last. Finally, forehead-to-forehead breathing each other’s ragged breath, he looked into her eyes and felt her flame about to brighten to its ultimate intensity. His hands grasped her hips as she reached for a knife on the sideboard.
She felt the power and fury of her passion crest as she thrust the knife deep into his chest. Exquisite waves of pleasure rippled through her as she dropped to the bed bathed in crimson light.
A short time later she lain beside him as tremors of pleasure echoed within like ripples on a pond long after the stone had been thrown. He turned toward her, “Do you have to do that every time?” He shook his head and smiled in acceptance of the inevitable.
She retrieved the blood stained knife and carefully ran it across her tongue, “Fair is fair my immortal lord, you were thrusting your sword into me for quite awhile before I returned the favor.” Her giggle ended in a salty kiss that reminded them both of battle, and victory.
Chapter Two
The Banquet
I
“It was a good day.” He heard himself say out loud.
The sun hung low above the sea, poised to dip into the horizon’s blue gray clouds. A soft light filled the harbor master’s deck high above the docks as he leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the rail to enjoy the crisp sea breeze that cooled the afternoon’s warmth.
“Yes,” he spoke to the breeze, “It was a good day and it will be a better night!” He smiled as he recalled the trap he had sprung on that doddering old imbecile of a predecessor. “Now I am the harbor master,” he gloated to himself, “and to the victor go the spoils.”
His thoughts drifted to the forthcoming evening’s
well-earned pleasures, a good meal and the pretty young Mindow girl he had purchased. “Yes, tonight will be a very good night indeed.” He muttered in satisfaction.
“Ship Inbound!” The lookout’s call rang loud throughout the docks.
“What?” Begrudgingly the harbor master removed his feet from the rail. “There should be no ship inbound.” He thought. “When I find out who’s sending unscheduled ships they’ll regret it.” He stood to the rail and extended his spyglass, “Who will feel my wrath, north or south?” He located the ship just below the horizon and looked to see whose colors she flew.
The spyglass dropped thirty feet to the dock and shattered.
“Runner! Runner!” The master shouted as he leapt down the stairs from landing to landing. A young Mindow boy met him at the base. “You! Runner!” The master panted, “To the king, quickly! Relay this message exactly, ‘The Red Knight will arrive at the harbor within the hour.’” Upon hearing the name Red Knight, the boy went pale.
“Tell anyone who stops you short of the king that this message is for the king’s ears first, on my authority. Do you understand boy? The king’s ears first! Now run as if you have whips at your back, and you’ll feel those whips if you’re not as fast as the bells! Now go!” Raphael turned and sprinted from the dock as the harbor’s message bells rang out.
He ran for his life, literally. “Run harder, run faster!” Raphael chided himself. “The Red Knight has come again!” Terror nipped at his heals as he ran. The Red Knight’s name was enough to strike primal fear into even the most powerful, but to the Mindow, he meant death itself, or worse.
From his earliest memories, Raphael had learned of his people’s proud heritage and who was responsible for their plight. Hundreds of years ago the Mindow lived in peace and prospered. Theirs was the middle kingdom, the largest and strongest. Although they could have easily conquered their neighbors to the north and south, the Mindow kings had always chosen peace and trade. Until the Red Knight came.
The Red Knight had come from the Far Lands, his armada filled the horizon and the Mindow’s fate had been sealed. With their king lost or dead and their defenses decimated, the Red Knight declared that all the coastal peoples would become a single kingdom. He chose a close advisor, a captain from the Far Lands to be king and gave the northern and southern kingdoms the title of protectorates.
In retribution for some offence their king had committed, the Red Knight stripped the Mindow of all rights and declared that they had no protection under King’s Law. The Mindow were now non-people, those who avoided outright slavery had to beg for menial labor to feed their children.
Over the centuries the Mindow found ways to survive. They gathered in the poorest section of Old Town and built a community where they could hold onto their heritage isolated from the rest of Kingsport. Ask any outsider about the Mindow quarter and you will receive a description of filth, sub-human squalor and disease.
This is a fallacy that the Mindow encouraged, as it left them in peace to follow their own traditions. While it was true that the Mindow were poor, if an outsider did choose to enter the quarter they would see clean streets, older buildings in good repair, and a sense of pride. The Mindow made sure that no outsiders chose to enter.
They had lost everything when the Red Knight last came, everything but their heritage and self-respect. Those could not be taken away by decree. “Run harder, run faster!” Raphael told himself, “The Red Knight has come again!”
As the harbor faded behind him, his thoughts began to clear. “I must warn the Elders.” His route to the palace would take him near the Mindow quarter but not through it. If he were seen to detour, it would mean his death, and considering the message he carried it would be a slow and painful death at that. “I’ll risk it,” he decided, and turned for home.
As Raphael entered the quarter, he stopped to take a deep breath and began to shout. “To the watch! To the watch! Any elder come quickly! Spread the word, to the watch!”
The reaction was immediate, down each street shutters flew open in order as the message was passed. Each echo was exactly as Raphael had spoken it with his location the only addition. Before he could even fully catch his breath, an elderly woman raced toward him.
“I am a harbor runner,” Raphael began as soon as she was close enough to hear him, “I bear a message for the king. The Red Knight will arrive at the harbor within the hour.” He did not wait for reaction or question, with his message delivered he vanish with the speed of youth.
The news left Isabelle stunned. Suddenly, a single though spurred her to action. She set off for the slave dancer’s compound at a pace that dismissed her advanced age as a luxury she could no longer afford.
II
Atheria’s eyes opened slowly.
A gentle light filtered into the room through curtains swayed by the afternoon breeze. Atheria’s young muscles voiced their complaints as she rolled over in her cot. Still half asleep, she relaxed to enjoy a peaceful moment as her gaze fell upon the forty straw mats and their occupants that filled the sparse hall.
As lead dancer, the cot was hers by right, although her love and empathy for her sisters who could not enjoy such luxury, added guilt to her pleasure. She sat up quickly as her sisters began to wake and instantly felt pain radiate from her pelvis. “The fat man,” she remembered.
Last night had been difficult. The king had been well rested which meant additional hours of dance. That was bad enough, but as lead dancer she was also the prize gift of the evening. Last night the guest of honor had been the Northern Protectorate’s emissary, the one that the girls called ‘the fat man.’ She remembered how his weight pounded against her as his hands gripped and spread her ankles to the breaking point. Although her sixteen-year old body was trained for flexibility, his abuse tested even her limits. “To be young, beautiful, and Mindowan is not a good thing.” She mused.
“After four years I should be used to it.” She chided herself softly, and then felt a secret pride in her well toned body as it loosened with movement and the pain receded. “Maybe I’ll have it easy tonight,” she wondered, “perhaps the Southern Viceroy will be visiting.”
Her thoughts of an easy night were quickly replaced by feelings of guilt. “The new girls are just twelve.” She made a mental note to remind the older sisters to seduce the worst of the lot. Atheria’s position gave her the most leeway, and so a greater responsibility.
“No easy nights for awhile.” She sighed. Just as Atheria resigned herself to another busy night, the door opened and Sister Quenith came in followed closely by Elder Isabelle.
“Atheria!” The two women called.
Atheria sprang from her cot and crossed the room taking advantage of her natural speed and agility to avoid her startled sisters. “Elder Isabelle, Sister Quenith, a new day’s welcome to you both.” Atheria used the Mindowan formal greeting in honor the Elder.
“Time is of the essence child, come with me.” Isabelle’s tone and countenance were grave. Sister Quenith stayed to rouse her sister dancers as Atheria followed Isabelle into the empty training room.
Isabelle closed the door and turned to Atheria. “The Red Knight has come, his ship will be here shortly.” Isabelle’s words were spoken softly but Atheria felt as if a mountain’s weight of stone had fallen upon her. Fear rippled down her spine with an intensity she had not felt in years.
Isabelle gave her a moment to recover, then continued, “You are too young to have this responsibility thrust on to you,” Atheria bristled at the assumption, “but you and I must make a decision that will affect all our people’s future. Perhaps to our redemption, or perhaps to our fall.”
Atheria wondered if Isabelle was being a bit too dramatic, “Okay, make that two mountains weight of stone.” She commented to herself. Then the certainty of youth and her authority as lead dancer resurfaced, “Death is not our greatest fear Elder, trust me.” Atheria’s reprimand made the point that respect flowed both ways.
The two wome
n stared at each other for a moment. The invincibility of youth met the gravity of experience. “Teenagers!” Isabelle thought.
“She must not have been cursed with beauty when she was young.” Thought Atheria. “Whatever my sisters and I can do for our people, we will do Elder.” Her composure matched or exceeded her elder’s.
“How far along are you with the Remembrance Dance?” Isabelle inquired.
“The Remembrance Dance?” Atheria vented her frustration. “The Red Knight is about to arrive and you want to discuss the Remembrance Dance?” She wondered if Isabelle had dimmed a bit with age. “Even the youngest child knows that it would be certain death if anyone from the court knew that we celebrated Remembrance, with or without the Red Knight’s arrival.”
“You misunderstand child, listen closely and take a moment to think.” Isabelle’s patience was wearing thin. “The king will feel threatened by the Red Knight’s arrival and will order a banquet as quickly as possible to honor him. That means tonight, which will also mean a great deal of confusion at the palace. By tomorrow the court will have adjusted and we will have lost our only opportunity. You must perform the Remembrance Dance for the Red Knight tonight.” Isabelle paused, waiting for a reaction.
Atheria’s shock was total. After a moment to process the insane idea, she calmly spoke, “We are fully prepared and rehearsed Elder, but before I would be responsible for bringing retribution on our people, I will slit my own throat. Would you like me to do it now, or wait for you to leave?”
To Atheria’s surprise, Isabelle’s response came in a softer, caring tone. “You are correct my sister, we will be risking all, but please put aside your fear, there is an opportunity here you may not have seen. The Red Knight has not visited these shores for hundreds of years. The first task he will set himself is to assess the king and his court for loyalty and competence. If we can place doubt in the Red Knight’s mind on either of those points before he has a chance to assess them for himself, then all his future judgments will be colored by that doubt.”
Forest & Kingdom Balance Page 3