by Jeff Gunzel
“I’m sorry,” she pleaded, reaching out to touch his knee. “I have family there. Real family. He might be in trouble. Can’t you understand why I have to go?”
He finally turned to her, a vacant, distant look in his eyes. “Yes, I do understand,” he said softy. “But I don’t understand why you couldn’t talk to me about it.” He stood, gazing off into the distance. “If you still don’t trust me by now, I don’t imagine you ever will.” Before she could answer, he went to join the others in a private circle.
She waited while they spoke among themselves. This might be the last straw, she thought to herself. Fed up with her at last, they would probably just kick her out of the party and all go their own separate ways. But no, they were sworn to protect her, so that wasn’t really an option. They wouldn’t go back on their promises, would they? No, it was far more likely that they’d leash her like a dog and never let her out of their sight.
And what of Xavier? Had his patience with her finally come to an end? Would he never trust her again? “But I had to do it,” she muttered, as if he were sitting next to her. “It’s not like I lie all the time, or try to deceive everyone. It was just this one thing that I had to do for myself. What if someone tried to keep you from your family? Would you not have done the same?” She glanced up, watching his lips move as he spoke to the others. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, wishing he would look her way just once with a hint of a smile to tell her everything was all right. But he didn’t.
Dropping her face down into her hands, she began to weep. Why couldn’t they understand? Why couldn’t they see that she had no other choice? Once she discovered the fate of her brother, she was going to come back to them. Everything was going to work out perfectly, right? Through blurry vision, she saw a pair of feet near her knees. Wiping her tears, she looked up.
Glancing left and right as if seeking reassurance from the others, Liam cleared his throat. “What you did was wrong, Viola,” he scolded for what felt to her like the hundredth time. “You took it upon yourself to take matters into your own hands, plotting to go your own way without telling anyone.”
“But I swear I was going to return,” she added, her voice so quiet that they could barely hear her. “I just needed to find the truth about something that was important to me.”
“Fine and well, but irrelevant,” Liam continued. “You purposely tried to deceive us. If I hadn’t found that map, you would have slipped off into the night like a thief. We already know the ghatins have discovered a way to escape their cursed prison, if only on a temporary basis. What if they had found you? What were you thinking?”
When he paused, she realized his last question was not rhetorical. “What was I thinking?” she repeated softly. “I thought that maybe I had the right to search for my family. But since I knew none of you would see it that way, I made a plan. But it seems I have no right to live my own life. Now I see why Narkural kept referring to me as a pet.” She looked at Owen while pulling down the fabric around her neck. “I will no longer pretend to be an equal among you. Please, go on and put the collar back on me. Since you view me as an animal, you might as well control me like one.”
“Ye think this is about control?” Owen snarled, folding his arms across his massive chest. “Foolish girl! Then I’d say ye have learned nothing at all. Every choice we made was for the greater good. Do ye honestly believe we wanted to spend any time with those crazy creatures? It made the most sense at the time because of the way they think.” He twirled a finger near his ear for emphasis, prompting a little smile from Viola. “And we all saw how well that worked out. But that’s the point: we have to keep trying until ye are safe. Not every plan is going to work out. But that doesn’t mean we quit trying. We are not trying to control ye, but we are trying to do what’s best for ye...for all of us. And as usual, it looks like we’ll have to improvise again.” He poked Xavier in his side. “Tell her.”
“Obviously, the nezzerians were of no use to us,” Xavier said. “And we can’t stay on the road forever, either. Until we figure out our next move, we’ll need to find a way to hide in plain sight. A large city is probably the best way to do that.” Viola’s eyes went wide.
“We’re going to make our way to Shadowfen,” Liam finished. “But,” he added quickly as Viola opened her mouth, “that is because we have exhausted all remaining options. Searching for your brother is not a priority. Yes, we will keep our ears to the ground while we’re there and see if we hear anything about his whereabouts. But I repeat, it is not a priority, and we shall risk nothing in trying to achieve this secondary goal. Have I made myself clear?” She nodded her head happily.
“Very well then,” he said. “Um...Viola,” he added slowly. “No one blames you for wanting to find your family. I hope you understand that. I know you think we’re not being fair, but believe me when I say that nothing about this situation has been fair to anyone.” He motioned towards the hunter. “Your life has just begun, whereas Owen and I have seen a great many winters. We are experienced at life and know how the world works. Rash decisions driven by unthinking emotion can be fatal, a lesson we learned long ago. From here on out, I simply ask that you trust our judgment. If you don’t like how we’re handling things or you have an idea, please come to us first. I can’t promise we’ll agree to it, but I promise you we’ll listen to what you have to say. Is that fair enough?”
“That’s fair,” she said, rising up off the ground.
“Good,” he replied, then stepped forward and kissed her on the forehead. She hugged him as if he were her father, for that was how she viewed him. He rubbed his eye, playing it off as if some dust were bothering him. “Well then, I think it’s time we were off.”
*
Queen Bella moved cautiously down the hall, carefully placing one foot in front of the other as she approached the guest chambers. Even from a fair distance, she could hear the bedposts slamming against the wall, the bed frame itself creaking in protest. Since the door was ajar, she peeked in while being careful not to be seen. Odd that a queen would feel the need to sneak around in her own keep like this.
A man reared up from the large bed, his face hidden beneath a black leather mask. With his eyes and mouth covered by the leather, he drove his naked body down onto the bed again and again. Bella covered her mouth to smother a gasp, not daring to make a peep. The upper portion of the bed frame swayed with each thrust, the posts hammering the wall violently.
With a violent jerk, the man pulled up a handful of blond hair, revealing a younger, much smaller man whose face was contorted with pain, his eyes shut and his mouth gaping open in a soundless scream. Bella clasped her hand more firmly over her mouth, stifling a near scream of her own. The masked man wrapped his arm around the smaller man’s neck, pulling his head back as he continued to thrust his hips forward. The young man gurgled, his eyes bulging as his upper body lifted up off the bed. Tongue hanging out, his face went bluish red, and still the larger man did not relent.
After a final series of thrusts, he let out a howl like a wolf, then dropped the lifeless body back down onto the bed. Eyes bloodshot and glassy, tongue hanging to the side, it was clear the young man was dead. Shaking off as if he had just jumped out of a cold river, the sweaty man ripped off his mask, his knowing gaze drifting right to the doorway. When King Milo’s eyes met Bella’s, she jerked back from the doorway and threw herself against the outer wall.
Did he see me? Her heart racing, she could feel the blood pounding in her ears and throat. Fool, of course he saw me. She pushed off the wall, considering a full sprint down the hall just to get as far away as possible, when a servant stepped into her path.
“Is there anything I can assist you with, my lady?” the woman asked, blinking innocently. With her silver-streaked brunette hair up in a tight bun, the middle-aged woman wore a knowing smile. For an instant, her gaze drifted towards the doorway, then back again as she waited for an answer.
“N-No, I’m fine. Thank you,” Bella replied, d
oing everything she could to steady her voice. Feeling a droplet of sweat tickle from her temple, she resisted the urge to wipe it away.
“Very well,” said the servant, dipping into a low, exaggerated curtsy before skipping into the room. Bella tensed, waiting for the inevitable scream when she saw the body. But that scream never came. Curiosity overriding the fear of her husband, she dared to peek inside once more. Already the king and servant were locked in a lover’s embrace, his groping hand sliding down her backside, gripping her rear as he pulled her closer. With a tug, she rolled the young man’s corpse from the bed, letting it hit the floor with a hollow thud.
Bella’s hand smothered her mouth. She thought she was going to be sick. Hunched over as her churning stomach lurched, she scurried away as fast as she could. Her first impulse was to go to Jarlen, to feel his arms around her, to hear him say that it was going to be all right and they would be together soon. But she didn’t dare. The king was sick and twisted, no doubt, but he was no fool. Warped and broken as he was, he had a way of seeing through deceptions. Going to her lover now was too risky.
Bella spent the next several hours roaming the halls of the keep. Pictures of the kings and queens from generations past hung from the walls. Some of these oil paintings were nearly a century old, yet they were all similar in nature. With chiseled features and wisdom in their eyes, these past couples of royalty looked like true leaders who commanded respect. No matter which picture Bella looked upon, she saw strength and loyalty beyond anything she had experienced in her real life.
Were these century-old ghosts captured in time nothing more than a skilled artist’s ruse? Had he captured the very essence of what made them great, or was it all just a brilliant deception to give them the illusion of power? Perhaps they too were living a lie, just as I am? If these old paintings could speak, what would they think of her? Would these leaders of old understand what she was going through, or would they judge her to be weak and pathetic? Gazing a minute longer, Bella decided she did not want to know the answer.
“Pardon me, my lady,” came a voice from behind. Startled, she rounded on the servant a bit quicker than she intended. The queen was having a difficult time regaining her composure after witnessing such a twisted abuse of power.
“What do you want?” she asked, again a bit too fast.
“My apologies for startling you,” he said, following with a deep bow. She almost went out of her way to point out that he hadn’t startled her, but she bit her tongue at the last second. Her every word seemed to be drawing more and more attention to her distress. “The king seeks your presence in the Great Hall.”
“Now? What for?” she blurted without thinking, then cringed immediately. The servant’s forehead furrowed in confusion. Of course a lowly servant wasn’t trusted with such detailed information. If anything, she should have been the one to know. The queen was so shaken that every word coming out of her mouth made her sound more and more like a fool. Fed up with the endless humiliations, she steeled herself and looked him straight in the eye. “Of course,” she replied confidently. “Tell the king I shall arrive shortly.”
With a final bow, he scurried away.
Chapter 8
Step after strained step, Bella forced herself down the hall. She didn’t dare keep the king waiting, but she was in no hurry to enter the Great Hall, either. Rarely did he summon her to attend these meetings, or seek her advice regarding city business. Shadowfen was his alone to command, and he made that clear to her on a daily basis. So why seek her counsel now? Given the strange timing of this request, combined with the witnessed horror she was never meant to see, she couldn’t help the unnerving feeling that rose up in her chest.
The masked man reared up, his fingers stretching the boy’s cheeks as he pulled the skin around his face. Red lines seeped with blood as his fingernails dug deep, the young man’s lips stretched so tight he couldn’t even scream. His arms flopping helplessly with each rear thrust, the blood from his face starting to trickle down his neck, streaking his sweaty chest. With a crackling sound, the masked man’s head suddenly twisted back at an impossible angle. Like an owl with its face cocked completely sideways, Milo’s seething glare landed on the watching intruder, his eyes pulsing from red to yellow. “I take whatever I want,” he hissed, bending the boy back so far that his spine began to crackle and pop from the strain. “Don’t you ever forget that!”
With labored breaths, Bella stumbled into a wall while clutching her chest. She needed to pull herself together before standing face to face with His Majesty. Obviously he had seen her, and that was probably the reason she had been summoned so soon after the incident. Again came the pull to be with Jarlen. The temptation to run to him was almost too much to resist. She could go to him now, the two of them could run off before anyone noticed and—Fool! Pull yourself together!
No, that wasn’t an option—not yet, anyway. There was no escaping this. It was time to face whatever the king had in store for her. It would be nothing short of a miracle if he didn’t have her executed on the spot, but there were no options here. Her best chance was to hurry now and pretend nothing was wrong. Perhaps feigning ignorance might yet save her life.
The long walk through the keep felt like a short one as she reached the large, red, double doors. It seemed as if she had been summoned only seconds ago. Her trembling hand touched the golden knob before suddenly jerking away. Promptly, she slapped herself on the wrist before trying a second time. Steady, you fool! If this was to be her end, she would face it head on with some dignity. After all, she was still the queen, and she would embrace that title until it was stripped from her, or her life was forfeit. Steeling herself, she threw back the doors and marched into the hall with her head high. Heads turned with a jerk.
“There’s my beautiful wife,” said Milo, rising up from his seat at the head of the table. With a sort of spring in his step, he rounded the corner of the table and rushed up to her. Fists clenched, her body went stiff as he kissed each of her cheeks. “It is so good to have you with us, my dear,” he whispered softly in her ear. Speechless, her hand clutched in his, he led her to an empty seat near his at the head of the table.
The table was set with bowls filled with fresh fruit and crystal glasses filled with warm spiced white wine. Four thick candles flickered away, each giving off their own spicy aroma. The atmosphere was warm and pleasant in the low light. What was all this? What was he up to?
“My lady,” came a formal greeting from the man on her left. Still stunned by her husband’s behavior, Bella had almost forgotten there were others present. The humble greeting was echoed around the table, each man nodding his acknowledgment to their queen. Forcing a smile, she took the time to greet each of them in turn.
Her head spun as she tried to take it all in. It was difficult to play the part of queen, acting calm and composed, seeing how, only moments ago, she had feared the possibility of a rope around her neck. The king never needed much reason for an execution, no matter who it was, and his devotion to her as of late was spotty at best.
“I’m sorry, my dear, but I’m afraid we’ve already started without you,” said Milo, pushing her already filled glass of wine closer to her. “Dengar,” he ordered with a snap of his fingers. “Would you please be so kind as to update my wife?”
“Oh, uh, certainly, Your Majesty,” said his advisor, sliding back in his seat in order to stand. The simple movement seemed to make the heavy man sweat profusely. With the buttons of his shirt straining against his round belly, the short man wiped a stubby hand across his damp black hair. “We’ve only just started planning the specifics, my lady.”
“Are we arranging a festival?” asked Bella, taking a sip of her spiced wine. It was good. Everything was good. She was fully composed once again. Each passing second brought with it a calming assurance that she just might keep her head this day.
“Uh...something along those lines,” the man admitted, finding the need to wipe sweat from his forehead once more. �
�For some time now, Shadowfen has built a reputation among the elites for providing a unique brand of entertainment. That savage half-man of yours has built quite a name for himself.” Bella’s cheek twitched ever so slightly.
“The only problem we’ve encountered during these events,” he continued, “is that he’s been mostly unchallenged. That is to say, he wins too easily, and sometimes the elites feel slighted, given how much they paid to be entertained. Some have even demanded their coin returned.”
“I was under the impression that his constant winning was a good thing,” Bella replied, her voice rising in pitch with every word. “Am I mistaken in thinking this? If he were to ever lose, then the shows come to an end. If the shows come to an end, a large portion of Shadowfen’s revenue becomes permanently cut off. I’m afraid I must be missing your point, Dengar.”
“Why, no, my lady. Your astute observation is correct, as always,” he said, bowing his chin to his chest, making his flabby neck roll to each side. Bella resisted rolling her eyes at his hollow praise, and allowed him to continue.
“But, my lady, what if he didn’t win...just this once? What if our champion were defeated in front of thousands of spectators?” Her heart skipped a beat. In a single sentence this man had threatened to shatter her entire world. Had she been standing, she would most certainly be looking up from the floor. Although her eyelids fluttered briefly, she just barely managed to keep her emotions in check. It was like holding her hands over hot steam and trying not to make a pained face.
“And how would Shadowfen benefit from such a thing?” she asked in as cool a voice as she could muster. “As I already pointed out, if he falls in battle, then our practically endless stream of revenue is cut off forever. I don’t suppose you are going to replace our champion?”