Forest & Kingdom Balance

by Robert Reed Paul Thomas

  The first one to try was the king of the land they had been cast out from. He thought the Realm nothing more than traders, miners, and farmers; ruled by women, no less. He knew of their natural defensive position, but bragged that he hadn’t decided whether he’d starve them out, or just go in and put them to the sword. He said that he would decide when he arrived.

  He brought a large conscript army and camped near the fortified natural entrance to the Realm. He sent a king’s messenger into the Realm with a choice for its leader, surrender or die. The head, and only the head, of his messenger returned tied to the saddle of his horse. Stuck on a dagger buried into the messenger’s forehead was the Warrior Queen’s reply. “We have decided not to accept your surrender, we would much prefer that you die.”

  As the king marched his men toward the mountain entrance, the Realm’s Harriers attacked from three directions. They came directly from the entrance, and from two hidden staging areas to the sides. The Harriers were vastly outnumbered, their kill rate however was a hundred to one at least and the battle was brief. The most difficult aspect of the war was the clean up. All those dead bodies by the front door were bad for business.

  Over the centuries someone always forgot, or ignored, the lessons of the past. Eventually a large swath of land surrounding the entrance was so fertile from the discarded organic matter, unfortunate conscripts that is, that one of the Warrior Queens thought it was a waste of good fertilizer and had some irrigation rerouted to keep the entrance park verdant most of the year.

  The healer had come and gone, and Kalibra stopped to sample some of the dishes that Desiree had brought for them. Desiree herself had stayed, presumably to see if the Warrior Queen desired anything else, but she seemed just as enraptured by Kalibra’s story as Atheria and Simon were.

  “Atheria,” Kalibra turned to the young dancer, “you told me this morning of the training and duties of a slave dancer, while I wouldn’t call them pleasant, you may want to contrast them to this next part of my story.”

  The history and reputation of the Harriers eventually allowed the Realm a certain amount of peace. Up until thirty years ago they had never bowed a knee to anyone. They were respectful to the Red Knight but never allied themselves to another kingdom, nor sought to conquer any lands. The Red Knight left the Realm in peace because it fulfilled a purpose and did so efficiently. All that changed with Emperor Kale.

  Kale was the Red Knight’s protégé. The Red Knight fawned over his little egomaniac and gave him anything he wanted. Kale styled himself Emperor and would not be satisfied until he ruled everyone everywhere. He had conquered, or received allegiance from most of the sovereignties on the continent. He then sent demands to the Warrior Queen Alantra, the woman who would later give birth to me, to pay tribute and acknowledge him as her Emperor.

  When she refused, he decided to take the Realm by force. He arrived at the Realm with a force four times the size of the Harriers, though he was smart enough not to bring conscripts. These were the greatest warriors from a hundred different kingdoms with the finest weaponry. Even so, assault after assault failed and each time he was turned back by the Harriers. By the second month of combat the Harriers had sustained heavy losses, but not as heavy as Kale’s forces.

  Alantra decided on an all out counter attack while she still had the strength. She felt confident that they could wipe out Kale’s remaining forces, and with any luck, rid the world of an obnoxious, power hungry idiot.

  The plan was both brilliant and flawless. Kale’s forces were decimated, all that was left to do was finish off his warriors and find him. She sent every Harrier and support defender into the fray. That’s when she saw the dust cloud approach and knew that the Realm would fall. Thousands of men on horseback crested the horizon. It did not matter if they were trained or not, the sheer numbers alone would be enough to wipe out her defenders, and they would arrive long before she could get her people back inside the gate.

  In the end, Alantra and three of the greatest Harriers to ever draw breath waited in the throne room ready to send hundreds to their death before they fell. But that was not to be, Kale wanted them alive. A feint of men rushed the throne room to distract them while his bolo throwers aimed weighted bags at their heads. They were knocked unconscious before the attackers reached them.

  Kale imprisoned Alantra and raped her daily until she was pregnant. Once he was sure he had planted his child in her, he chained her in a cell and waited until the baby was born, until I was born.

  He then went to the three imprisoned Harriers and offered them a proposal. If they would raise and train me as a Harrier he would release them. He reminded them that if I proved worthy enough to ascend to Empress, I would also rule over the Realm. They should also know that if he dies for any reason before I was an adult, they and I would be put to death immediately. That edict would be law throughout the land.

  Every morning of my childhood began with a lecture delivered by an emissary of my father. He would tell me who my mother was, how she was defeated, and how I was conceived in great detail. He then would remind me that her throat was cut at the moment of my first breath. Each lecture ended with the words, “This is the price of defeat.”

  When I turned eighteen I was given command of my father’s army and told to quell any dissent. I spent three years crisscrossing the continent. My final assignment was to teach a regional viceroy the meaning of respect. He had declared his territory independent and demanded terms for continued service to the Empire. By that time my reputation for thoroughness in my work so preceded me, that when I arrived at the provincial capital the viceroy’s own personal guard presented me with his head as a welcoming gift.

  I returned in triumph just before my twenty-first birthday. My father told me that both he and the Red Knight were pleased with my leadership, and that the Red Knight had invited us to his fortress to celebrate my birthday and successful campaign. My father asked that I go on ahead with my personal guard and that he would follow in a few days. I arrived at the fortress to a wild celebration in my honor.

  Unfortunately, my father failed to mention that he was preparing to openly challenge the Red Knight and that he knew that the invitation was a trap. The morning after my celebration, I was brought to the courtyard to watch every one of my personal guards be put to death, after which I was thrown into a filthy, dark, dank cell. I sat on the floor of that cell for the next four years. The Red Knight interrogated me often at first, then less so as the years progressed. He wanted information about my father that I did not have. It still amazes me that my father openly fought the Red Knight and achieved a stalemate for four years.

  One day at the end of my fourth year, I was escorted from my cell to a guest suite where servants and healers attended to my every need. A month later, once I had regained my strength and health, extravagant clothing was delivered to my suite with a note attached that simply read, “Dinner?” The Red Knight wined and dined me for several evenings. I played coy to his advances until finally I allowed him to believe that his charm had won me over and he took to me to his bed.

  Everyone knows that he is the ‘immortal’ Red Knight, but what does that really mean? I was sure that I would be able to cut out his heart and throw it somewhere before he had a chance to heal. All was set, I had seduced a servant boy so that he would place a dagger where I could find it in the Red Knight’s bedroom. The evening came and I swooned to his charms. In the midst of our energetic frenzy I maneuvered to the perfect position. I straddled him as I deftly retrieved the dagger and with a speed that few could comprehend, I struck.

  Before the dagger had even fully pierced his heart, he disappeared in a bright crimson light as I dropped to the bed. My ultimate pleasure and triumph lasted exactly one instant. He reappeared next to me on the bed, turned and asked, “Feel better?” He handed me the dagger I had dropped and wondered if I’d like to continue. A few hours and flashes later, he told me what he wished of me. He offered me the command of his armies to break th
e stalemate and defeat my father. Success would win me the title of Warrior Queen and whatever help I needed to retake the Realm.

  Two years later Kale’s last stronghold fell to me. I had him chained in his own dungeon while my Harrier tutors took turns raping him for a week. Unfortunately I couldn’t take the time to join them, there was still a great deal to do. Although from the detailed reports I read, I must admit that they did get quite creative. At the end of the week I set out for the Red Knight’s fortress with my father’s head in a finely crafted and jeweled display box.

  Kalibra stood and stretched. “Of course before I had a chance to recapture the Realm, he suggested that I accompany him on a little errand to this back of nowhere.”

  She turned to Atheria and Simon. “For the next few days Atheria you are excused from our workout. You will join us here and work on strength and reflex exercises. I know that you’re too old to start any meaningful warrior training, but it still feels like a waste of raw talent.” Kalibra reflected for a moment and added, “Although as a slave your most likely future will be to continue to entertain your masters, and you do take dance to the level of high art. On second thought, practice what you wish. I’ll leave it up to you.”

  Kalibra turned to Simon and smiled. “You man child have managed for two weeks to avoid anything but a few light bruises. Tomorrow you will have my full attention. What a lucky boy!” Kalibra’s laughter sent a cold shutter though his entire body.

  V

  “Yes, Dionara has recovered much faster than I had anticipated,” the Caretaker’s relief was evident, “I truly believe that you and Edward were the source of her strength and healing.” His love and gratitude filled Danielle’s mind. “Her preliminary training is complete, now the real work begins. I will encourage her to seek you out when she needs support. I’m afraid that she may need you at any time, day or night.”

  “We’ll be here. She knows that we are here for her always.” The Caretaker could feel a tremendous strength well up from deep within Danielle. “Of course,” he thought to himself, “the same well from which Diana and Dionara were drawn.”

  “I’ll drop in on you again soon.” With that the Caretaker’s mind withdrew from Danielle.

  The Caretaker walked out of the chalet to a beautiful morning in Spirit’s Vale. The valley balanced on the cusp of seasons, spring’s newness was waning while the lush profusion of summer waxed. “Where is she this time?” He’s had to scan the entire valley several times in the last few weeks to find her. How or why she ended up sitting in a tree on the other side of the lake that day will continue to be a mystery.

  “Froggy, are you scanning for me again?” Dionara came up behind him and hugged him with all her strength. “You were busy when I came in so I straightened up my parent’s bedroom.”

  “Your bedroom, you mean.” Froggy twisted at the waist a bit to see if there were any broken ribs.

  “In my mind it’s the other way.” She came around and flashed him one of her brilliant smiles as she made a dash for the lake, her clothes discarded in various directions as she ran.

  “Does that woman ever keep her clothes on?” Froggy smiled in resignation of the inevitable. He walked to the edge of the lake to watch her swim.

  When it became apparent that she would rather spend most of the day in the water, Froggy touched her mind. “My Lady, when all this is over and done we will spend the time it takes to teach you how to take another form. Then you can become a fish and spend as many days in the lake as you would like. For today however, my Lady’s presence is requested on shore.”

  Dionara’s non-verbal response to his request had lost some of its impact recently, due to over use.

  Once Dionara had found all her clothes, though she needed to travel most of the way back to the chalet to do so, she and Froggy sat beside the lake in meditation to center themselves for the day’s lessons.

  “My lady, did you know that you and your mother are the only beings I have met that I cannot judge the capabilities of. I see your flame as I have seen others, but theirs have a finite quality, they will reach their limit and will be unable to go farther. Yours is more of a wellspring, every time I believe that I’ve plumbed its depth, I find new levels.” Froggy’s soft voice held a comfort for Dionara.

  “You and I will soon face the Red Knight and as far as I can tell, he has the same capabilities as I do. Luckily for your kingdom, as well as the rest of humanity, he has not discovered most of them. While he has handicapped himself with a limited self-image, all that will change when we confront him. He is brilliant and once he sees what is possible, he will search himself and use what he finds.

  “His lack of training is a benefit to us, while at the same time it will make him unpredictable. To both points I would add that I have no doubt that he will be able to access all of his raw power immediately. What he will be able to do with it is the question.” He allowed her a moment to absorb the implications.

  Froggy did not touch her mind, he wanted her to have total freedom to think and explore herself. He could sense her emotions; they swirled with uncertainty, hope, fear, confidence, wonder and insecurity. He could feel her find center and bring them under control. She embraced her complexity without denying it. She accepted the unknown and in doing so she created a desire to understand and find balance.

  “Who am I Froggy, and how can I confront a being as powerful as you?” Her question held the measured tone of one who seeks knowledge. There was no hint of despair or trepidation.

  “It will help you to know the process. When you first entered the Forest you knew nothing of your potential, from that beginning there are three steps. First was discovery, you have completed that step. The second step we begin today, it is to quantify. You must explore, test, and understand the bounds of who you are and what you can do.

  “The final step is application. For the moment accept the third step as an undefined concept, a known direction without definitive destination. Think of your abilities as colors on your artist’s pallet, the solution we seek is the painting you will create. No one knows what an artwork will be before the artist begins, not even the artist. So for now, assemble your paints and study your subject. As with all artists, when the moment is right you will create your masterpiece.”

  Froggy stood and offered her his hand. They faced each other and suddenly Dionara felt something disappear. It took her a moment to realize what it was. “Froggy! I don’t sense you!” Since her first moment in the Forest, her mind had always been aware of his. Near or far, unconscious or deliberate, she had always been aware of him. Now he stood two feet in front of her and it was as if he didn’t exist.

  “My Lady, my beautiful young princess, I have always taken pains to give you the honor and respect you deserve, and you have honored me by your response in kind. We will resume our wonderful relationship after your lessons. Right now however we are beginning a battle and battles have no rules or etiquette. I have put up a mental block, if you want to know what I know, you will need to get past it. As with your first training, don’t concern yourself with fine control at first, just proceed any way you can.” Froggy bowed, “We begin.”

  Dionara concentrated as she attempted to enter his mind but could barely discern that there was a mind to enter.

  “What a gentle caress, thank you my Lady. However, for the purposes of our battle, you will need to find within yourself the equivalent of a full battle ax, well swung, just to get started. While you give that some thought, please keep in mind that you will need a strong defense as well as an offence. Allow me to demonstrate.” Froggy instantly came into her mind and started rummaging around in her most personal memories. “There were rumors a year or so ago that involved you, two guardsman, and some type of sling apparatus. That has always struck me as curious. Let’s see if I can find that.”

  “Oh no you don’t!” Dionara seemed to grasp the concept of a shield rather quickly, and the battle was joined.

  VI

  Yamikur
a sat cross-legged in the center of the floor, light from the fireplace joined with several lamps to fully illuminate the bunkhouse’s main room. Centered and relaxed, he allowed his gaze to sweep the room. “Everything touched by humanity will leave the mark of its maker. You can learn a great deal about a people by what their hands craft and how it is crafted.” He remembered the lesson he was taught as a child, and how he thought it strange that his instructor of warcraft would begin with that. He smiled, “I was truly blessed to have such good teachers.”

  He examined each detail of room. At first glance his overall impression was that of simplicity, then corrected himself. “No, efficient.” He looked closer at the craftsmanship; the expertly cut timbers and intricate joints would last lifetimes. The design was utilitarian but its execution reflected a high level of expertise and knowledge. There were some aspects of its construction he had never seen before. Innovations that made perfect sense, they strengthened the structure and simplified the process.

  The furnishings were a different matter, the furniture’s woven fabrics as well as the rugs were not only of the highest quality but the artistry exceeded anything he’d seen in his travels, even among the richest and most powerful. The aesthetic embraced natural themes with none of the gaudy extravagance he had seen in palaces of the elite. He rose and sat in a chair by the fire. “Amazing.” He thought as he sank back in the soft cushion that had the perfect amount of support.

  “So, what conclusions do you draw?” The woman’s voice returned. Yamikura accepted her presence as a natural occurrence. Neither shocked nor alarmed, he took up the conversation.

  “Time.” He said. “Your people have time. They are not pressured by want or need and they are not threatened with imminent harm.” He reached to the side table and lifted a glass of wine he had poured after dinner. “They imbue everything they create with an expression of themselves.”