Tales of the Northern Kingdoms volume 2

by Barbara G. Tarn

  "So?" he asked, sarcastic. "Where do you think you're going?"

  Belkyss tried to hit him, but there was nothing to hit, since Janeck's feelings were dead.

  "Your spells can't hurt me," he reminded her with his new sarcastic smile.

  "Bastard!" Malko pushed the woman aside and attacked the king, impaling himself on Janeck's sword. The young man slumped in Belkyss's arms and died there.

  "End of the game," Janeck said. "Get up, woman, and go back to your room."

  "Damn you!" she screamed, attacking him with her bare fists and crying.

  He didn't budge and grabbed her like a sack of potatoes, taking her back to her room, still sobbing. Belkyss dove onto the bed, crying like a child. Janeck watched her until she calmed down, then sat next to her and caressed her back with a sigh.

  "You started this war, little witch," he said, a little sad. "I'd have loved you with no need for spells and I'd have shared everything with you. Why did you ruin everything?"

  "I'm a witch, I need power," she answered, sniffling and scowling at him.

  "The years you sucked out of Perys and Vilko? Rylan's arm? Rohan's passion? What you did to me? All this for life eternal?" he asked sourly.

  "Not only that," she answered gloomily. "Besides, you were my first victim. I aimed too high and maybe overestimated my strength. You found your mind." She looked both hostile and admiring now.

  "I fought bears and wolves for food," he retorted. "I lived like an animal for years, unaware of my true nature. When I first met Perys and Vilko, I was afraid of them, because they were the first human beings that I met, and I thought I was the only one. Now I talk to wild animals, but my heart is dead. And you stole ten years of my life as well. When I think I'd have done anything for you..."

  He looked at her.

  "Tell me the truth. Was there a moment, an hour when you didn't pretend, when you really felt something for me?" he asked bluntly.

  "No," she answered.

  He clenched his teeth and left, locking her in the room.

  ***

  "What are you thinking about, Your Majesty?" Perys asked, noticing Janeck was thoughtful,

  "My wife," the king answered. "I love her. And it's not a spell this time, I know, it's different. I'm like an animal and she's the mate I chose."

  "I don't think the queen can weave any more spells, Your Majesty," Perys said with a smile. "You drained her of her power. We noticed it the other day with Vilko. Lady Belkyss is now only a beautiful pregnant woman and has nothing left of the witch."

  Janeck stared surprised at his friend. He had noticed that Belkyss's hatred was becoming worse, but he hadn't thought it could be because she was losing her powers. Belkyss had protected her virginity for years, probably because she knew a pregnancy would have neutralized everything that hadn't been already blocked by Janeck's animal power. Virgins had more power, they said. And Belkyss was no virgin anymore...

  Belkyss is a common woman! It was a wonderful thought. She can grow old and die, and she's carrying our baby! She can be mine at last, if she gets over the loss of power and the hatred!

  "Is there anything urgent to do today?" he asked, suddenly cheerful.

  "Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow." Perys smiled.

  Janeck decided to visit his wife.

  Belkyss was in bed with a swollen belly. She was close to giving birth and the queen wasn't closely watched anymore. She didn't move from the room anyway and spent her days staring out of the window.

  Janeck sat next to her and caressed her belly. She didn't even turn to look at him.

  "How are you?" he asked, caressing her cheek with a finger.

  "Awful," she snapped. "Anyway, it's a boy, so I hope you will let me go afterward."

  "Oh, no!" he protested.

  "Then you will kill me?" She glared at him. "Right. King's word."

  "Janeck's word when he was still mad at his wife," he said. "Belkyss, my heart is blossoming back to life thanks to you, and I don't want you to leave. We hurt each other, but we still have time to forget it and raise our son together, don't you think?"

  "No."

  But he wasn't violent and despotic anymore. He was sweet, humble, patient and ready to spoil her. He cuddled her and promised her he'd stay by her side when she gave birth. She laughed at the silly promise.

  "King's word," he said. "They can try to send me away, but they won't succeed!"

  ***

  Belkyss gave birth torn between Janeck's physical presence and Malko's mental one. Her lover was back and had found her weak moment to let her know he was still alive. Belkyss fell asleep, exhausted, without seeing the baby, and then woke up still dazed and confused in Janeck's arms.

  "How are you feeling, my love?" he asked tenderly.

  "I'm fine," she answered. "But Malko is alive. He'll come for me."

  "Impossible!" he said, puzzled. "We both watched him die!"

  "He's not what he looks like," she said, staring worriedly at him. "He can stop his heart in an illusion of death and reactivate it when he wishes."

  "How does he do that?" he wondered.

  "Would you like to learn magic?" Malko materialized in the room with colorful clothes and a challenging smile. "You're too old to start now. I came back to get my apprentice. You have your heir, King Janeck, and your kingdom. But the world's most beautiful woman is still mine."

  "No!" Janeck protested. "She's my wife!"

  "You can't have it all," Malko retorted.

  Janeck was frozen in a spell. Malko signaled Belkyss who felt a magic spell move her body. She went to him and allowed him to put an arm around her waist. They vanished together. The last thing she saw was Janeck's anguished face.

  ***

  The baby was given a nanny, and he was a cheerful child with beautiful baby blues. All the ladies of the court spoiled him and he didn't have time to miss his mother. For Janeck the absence was torture. He'd gone to Crowleg and asked about Belkyss, but nobody had ever heard of her. Malko of Cadwaller had been dead for years, more or less since the time the mysterious young man had showed up at Goldberg's court, next to Queen Belkyss.

  Having no tracks to follow, Janeck had given up on finding his wife, but kept hoping she'd find a way to come back, especially on the lake shore at Ker Wald, where she'd first met him when he was still a cheerful prince heir.

  Until one day the young man who called himself Malko came back to Goldberg. He scowled at the king before speaking.

  "I came to kill you, Janeck of Goldberg. Because you were just a game and you became important to Belkyss. She's mine and her heart will belong to me again when you're dead."

  "You're not Malko of Cadwaller," Janeck said, undaunted.

  "No, I'm not." The other scoffed. "I'm Yankele Starlight, and I was sick of my old centenary body and I had taken possession of Malko's, also to please my beautiful apprentice. But you ruined everything, you wicked little king, and for this, you shall die!"

  He raised a hand. Janeck knew no shield could save him from that mortal blow. He wasn't afraid – he was actually happy. Belkyss loved him, now he could die in peace.

  "No!" Belkyss screamed. She materialized in front of him with a shield on her left arm that stopped Yankele's blow and sent it back to the sender. The sorcerer screamed, losing beauty and youth, and dissolving in death.

  Belkyss panted and dropped the shield that was too heavy for her. Still incredulous, Janeck helped her to put it aside and observed it with curiosity.

  "This large shield was forged by hobgoblins," she explained, sitting down to recover some strength. It was decorated with engravings of battles and the front was made of steel. "It shoots beams of light. It slowly drives the owner mad. Get away from it."

  Janeck left it against the wall and went to embrace her.

  "Gods, you're so beautiful," she whispered, staring at him adoringly.

  "Why don't we go back to Ker Wald?" he suggested, beaming. "My counselors can live without me for a month or two and y
our son needs you."

  "Yes, Janeck," she answered with a tired smile.

  He kissed her and she returned the kiss for the first time with authentic passion.

  Woodlands

  1.

  "Benjamin! There's Benjamin!"

  The children rushed to surround the young man who smiled. They loved his stories, except that scruffy child, slightly older, who stood in the back with a frown. The villagers looked at him and went back to their chores.

  Benjamin sat on the wooden bench outside the only inn, with one of the youngest in his lap and the others all around him. He wore the simple clothes of a wandering minstrel and had an ethereal beauty that made him look younger than he was.

  Adults smiled at him as he started his wondrous tale, keeping the children busy and almost still for at least the next hour. Most were in awe, but the scruffy child kept snorting or smirking at whatever he said.

  "That's impossible!" he snapped at last. "No one could ever do anything like that!"

  "For a Human like yourself, I guess you'd need the power of a dark magic pond, but I'm talking about Genn, here, not Humans," Benjamin replied.

  "What's a Genn?" a little girl asked, eyes wide in wonder.

  "Oh, I see. You've never heard of the Magical Races."

  All the children shook their heads, except the scruffy child.

  "There are four, but they don't actually exist," he said with scorn. "That's a fairy tale!"

  "Of course they exist, just because you have never met them, doesn't mean they don't exist," Benjamin chided.

  "Are they invisible?" A very young child asked.

  "Well, they don't like to show themselves much... you see, Humans forced them away from the land, so now they just hide."

  "And what do they look like?"

  "The Genn are blond, with pointed ears and have strong magic. Then there's the Sila, the winged people."

  "Do they really have wings?" Questions came from everywhere, and Benjamin answered, ignoring the scruffy child's glare.

  "Yes, the color of their hair," he explained. "And then there's the Waiora, or water people. They look mostly like you, but they live underwater and can turn into seals or dolphins – at least the ocean dwellers. And there's the fire people, the Fajrulo."

  "What do they look like?" the scruffy child asked as the others oohed and aahed.

  "They could look like you if they wanted," Benjamin answered. "They're the most powerful, and natural shape shifters."

  The scruffy child didn't join the awed "Whoa" of the children's crowd. "But what do they really look like?" he insisted.

  "It's better if Humans never see their real shape, trust me."

  "And what do they do?" a little girl asked.

  "Sometimes they guard the Ponds of Dark Magic, to prevent Humans from using them..."

  "Why, what happens when a Human gets near a Pond?" the scruffy child asked defiantly.

  "He's drawn to it and will be offered supreme power," Benjamin said, trying to instil fear in the children. "But Humans aren't naturally gifted for magic, and the price to pay is very high," he added, matter-of-factly.

  "What's the price?" The scruffy child impatiently tapped his foot, his arms crossed on his barrel chest.

  "To sacrifice the life of your most loved," Benjamin answeredd gravely.

  Silence and gasps followed this.

  "I'd rather be a warrior, then," the scruffy child decided, glaring at Benjamin. "That's enough power for me."

  "How about a castle? You could be lord, if you like daydreaming!" Benjamin pointed at the towers of a nearby castle looming over the village. Between those high walls and the forest, the little houses of the peasants looked overwhelmed – but not the scruffy child's pride.

  "I'm not daydreaming, I will have a castle one day! And I hate your stories, they're for babies!" the boy spat venomously.

  "Oh, of course a grownup like you cannot appreciate my little tales," Benjamin teased. "I'm sorry I displeased you, my lord."

  The child stormed away, muttering under his breath. Benjamin smiled, shrugged and looked at his audience.

  "Anyone else want to go?" he asked cheerfully.

  All shook their heads, suddenly shy without their young leader.

  "No? Good. Where was I?"

  ***

  "I hate this," Beltrand grumbled, bending to pick up chamomile and verbena. Almost fifty and still dressed in rags, picking herbs in the forest to sell at the closest apothecary shop. And his back hurt every year a little more, reminding him he wasn't young and his life was just passing by uneventfully.

  He sighed, straightening and re-stabilizing the bag of herbs on his shoulder. It kept sliding down every time he bent to pick up something. Still muttering under his breath, Beltrand reached a clearing and saw the opening of a big cave.

  He'd never been that far into the forest or noticed there was a cave. He moved closer, cautious. It looked dry and even safe to live in. Probably better than his crumbling hut when winter thunderstorms hit.

  "Hello?" he called, hearing his voice echo through tunnels. He went in, holding his bag of herbs as if it were a weapon.

  A large passage where two men could easily walk side by side took him to a smaller cave where he saw a spring of dark water. Beltrand stopped, puzzled, since the spring was lit by magic white lights. It looked like a fountain carved in the cave wall.

  Beltrand looked around, puzzled. That was obviously a magic fountain. Nobody was around, so he looked at the eerie white light, uncertain.

  He slowly approached and put down his bag by the fountain. He dipped his hand in the water – it was neither warm nor cold. Using both hands, he took some liquid. He sniffed it and was about to taste it, when a male voice startled him.

  "I wouldn't, if I were you."

  Beltrand splashed himself as he dropped the water and turned as swiftly as he could with his bulky build. He saw an old man, dressed in magician's clothes, staring at him from the corridor with an amused look on his face.

  A real sorcerer. Beltrand held his breath, putting his hands behind his back like a child caught in the act. The sorcerer came forward.

  "I know it's tempting, but I don't think you can pay the price and it might destroy you," he said with a strong and youthful voice that contrasted with the wrinkles and the white beard.

  "Who are you?" Beltrand managed to ask.

  "I live here," the other retorted. "Who are you?"

  "My name is Beltrand, healer, sorcerer, magic user..."

  "Loser." The sorcerer smirked. "You don't have any magic in you. And you don't seem to be very good in your so-called profession either."

  "I am good!" Beltrand protested. "It's just that people don't see it!"

  "I wonder why," the sorcerer commented, sarcastic. "Real magic users are very rich."

  "You live in a cave," he muttered, glaring at the old man.

  The sorcerer gestured towards the left side. The wall disappeared, showing a huge cave with a shiny heap of jewels and weapons. Beltrand's eyes widened in wonder and his jaw dropped.

  "I don't like company," the sorcerer said. "But as you can see, I am rich."

  Beltrand stared at the treasure, incredulous. "A High Wizard!" he blurted out. "Oh, Master, may I become your apprentice?"

  The sorcerer smirked. "I believe you're too old for that."

  "I've been looking for someone like you all my life!" Beltrand threw himself at the man's feet, ignoring the creaks in his knees. "This pond is powerful." He glanced at the fountain and noticed the water had turned black. Definitely a source of magic. "It could give me..."

  "Death," the sorcerer interrupted with utter contempt. "Unless you have someone you dearly love to sacrifice."

  "I've heard great power requests great sacrifice." Beltrand joined his hands in prayer, pleading the sorcerer who now looked taller and younger. "I'm ready..."

  "You're not. On your way, Beltrand. The Dark Magic isn't for you anyway."

  No matter how much
Beltrand begged, the sorcerer kicked him out of the cave.

  ***

  Beltrand came out of the gatehouse of Hawk Castle muttering to himself. The flask hanging on his shoulder hadn't made him rich yet, but maybe a demonstration would help.

  "I really should destroy this goddamn castle and its stupid owner," he grumbled, crossing the small village outside the walls and heading for the forest again. If he didn't start showing he had real power, he'd never make it rich.

  He heard quick footsteps behind him and turned to see the good-looking captain of the guard who could have been his son – except he'd treated him like scum, much like the lord of the castle. Beltrand sniffed, turned his back to the blond young man and kept walking.

  "Wait!" the other called, rushing after him.

  Beltrand snorted, but slowed down, allowing the young man to catch up with him.

  "I need to talk to you." The captain was fit and had a sword by his side, so he wasn't even panting. "What was your name again?"

  "Beltrand, you fools, you'll remember my name after today," he replied haughtily.

  "Our lord Adalbert doesn't like magic users, but I do. Do you have real power?"

  "I could change you into a toad for this insult!"

  "Come on, you ask me to trust you blindly! Do you have an idea of how many charlatans show up at our door?"

  "I know, I was one of them." Beltrand inhaled and looked at the forest in front of him. "But I found a liquid that gives me real power and I can do anything with it!"

  "Why did you come here, then, offering protection?" the captain asked with a frown.

  "I'm sick of being on my own, sleeping in huts or under the stars, I want a castle, and food, and servants..."

  "Very well, so do I." The blond young man stared at him, determined.

  "Excuse me?" Beltrand took in the captain – a warrior, a knight, a man-at-arms who didn't have the noble blood to inherit a castle. A very ambitious captain of the guard.

  "Here's the deal," Waltrand said. "You help me get rid of my lord, I give you food and shelter in this magnificent castle."

  "Isn't this high treason, my lord captain of the guard?" Beltrand mocked.

  "My name's Waltrand. Call it what you want. You help me, I help you. Do we have a deal?"