by Diana Flame
“Not so my dear bastard princess,” Cronus replied. “Behold your father who sits on the throne.”
“You certainly have lost your mind, Prime Minister,” Catrain retorted.
Whatever the minister was planning involved using her to get to the king. Catrain casted her eyes in the king’s direction and noticed him staring at her with that strange look. What was it? Why was he looking at her in that manner? Did the king believe this garbage? Did he break the law and bed a nether?
If the king did break the law, then he played right into the Cronus’ hand to execute his crooked plan.
Returning to his seat, the king leaned back and closed his eyes. The guards were standing on either side of the throne with their weapons to the ready.
One of the Ministers entered the Dias and spoke to the king. “Sire, of this deed you supposedly committed, you tell us. Is there any truth to it?”
“Aldridge, how can you ask that? I have known you since you were a boy and I was preparing to take the throne. Do you believe I committed such a deed?”
“I believe in you, sire,” Aldridge stated, turning to the rest of the men. “This is a false accusation on our king. I will not support it.”
Catrain was more concerned with setting herself free. What should she do? If she tried to disarm one of the soldiers, could she manage to free herself? Would it be safe? What if they harmed the king? Many questions ran through her mind as she pondered her escape.
The Prime Minister didn’t seem perturbed by what the other minister said. Instead, Cronus turned to the guard at the door and instructed. “Bring him in.”
The soldier turned and left the room. Catrain was curious about whom he was speaking and anxiously watched the door. Briefly, she wondered if he was referring to Rulf. When the door opened again, her heart stopped for a second. Someone shoved her father into the room and he tumbled forward. Catrain’s mind buzzed with questions as to why they brought him there.
“Pa?” she sprinted to her father, ignoring the soldiers trying to block her. “Papa, oh papa!”
“Now, now Catrain. You are safe, I knew you were here.”
“What, you knew where I was and didn’t come to get me?”
A movement behind Catrain made her turn as her father stared at someone behind her. The king had come up behind them, a glint in his eyes. The most shocking thing was when Merek knelt with his right hand over his left breast, taking the knight’s bow.
“You are alive I see,” the king grated.
“I beg your forgiveness my king, I did it for the throne.”
Catrain touched her father. “Pa, what are you talking about?”
“Get to your feet and face me like a man, Sir Merced,” Syreus grated. “You betrayed your king!”
Merek remained on his knees as Catrain looked from king to her father. Why was the king addressing her father as Sir Merced? Things were getting more muddled with every passing minute. Even the Prime Minister seemed confused as he also stepped forward. The one named Aldridge also ambled forward, but he didn’t appear as surprised as Cronus and the king were.
“Sir Merced?” Cronus said. “Was he not one of the invisible knights you kept hidden from everyone?”
The king ignored Cronus and addressed Merek. “I trusted you and you betrayed that trust.”
“The cobbler was Sir Merced?” Cronus inquired. The minister’s face had gone ashen as he stared at the man.
Something about Cronus’ reaction struck Catrain as odd. The smugness from earlier had completely disappeared to be replaced by despair. Did this revelation about her father foil his plans? She hoped it did. More than that, her father had some explaining to do.
King Syreus grabbed Merek by the shoulders and pulled him to his feet. The king then doubled a fist and landed it on Merek’s cheek. The man reeled back, landing on his ass.
“No!” Catrain rushed to her father, but was restrained by a soldier.
“Let me explain, Your Majesty.”
“Shut up,” the king shouted and turned to the soldiers. “This is a traitor of the throne, arrest him!”
* * *
The soldiers looked at Cronus for confirmation. He shook his head and they stood their ground. However, his face showed his shock at the rivalry between the king and the knight who was supposedly dead. According to the king’s speech, Catrain assumed as much.
Listening to Cronus, the king and her father, she garnered much information. The man who lived only miles away across the river as the farmer, was the same man who posed as the king’s cobbler in order to serve as a knight. She shook her head in disbelief.
“Oh, I think this is even better than I planned,” Cronus laughed.
The king stepped to Cronus. They were about the same height. But somehow the king seemed taller. His presence was somewhat daunting and Cronus visibly cringed even though he put on a brave face. The look on the king’s face was deadly.
“How did you find this man and why have your brought him here? Is he your ally in trying to destroy me?”
“No,” Catrain knelt, grabbing the king’s feet. “Please, my father is no traitor.”
The king looked down at her, his face softening. “Your father?”
“Yes sire, he is my father.”
The king nodded and turned to Cronus, grabbing him by the shoulders. “What more proof do you need that this netherbred is not my child?”
While the king distracted Cronus, some of the soldiers seemed uneasy with the situation. The divide was obvious as some stood behind the king and others sided with Conus.
Catrain inched close to the Minister and as she moved, her hand brushed the pummel of a soldier’s sword. With her quick wit and agility, she gripped the handle of the weapon, pulling it from the soldier’s belt. Before he could make an alarm, she held the sword to the Minister’s neck. Soldiers on both sides drew their weapons in a standoff.
“Set us free or die,” she hissed
“If I die you die as well.”
Catrain snickered. “Do you think I care?”
Moving her wrist just a little, the blade pressed into the man’s skin. Cronus nodded and the soldiers stepped back, their weapons aimed at her.
Merek scrambled to his feet, his face becoming austere. “The Prime Minister has been planning this for a long time. I knew the day would come that he would use her to get to you.”
Syreus clutched Merek’s shoulders, “Keep silent, you nincompoop!”
“I only speak the truth,” Merek said to the king.
“Let him speak, my dear king,” Cronus said.
The king glared at Merek. “You will do as I command if you have any loyalty left inside you. Say nothing more.”
Catrain’s eyes flitted from one to the other. Was her father really a knight and did he betray the king? It was obvious the king was angry with him. Even more so, why didn’t king let him speak? What secret was there between them?
Rulf doubled over on the floor, roaring like a wounded bear. The guards rushed over, bending over the figure in pain as he twisted and howled once more, clutching his belly.
One of the soldiers reached out to touch his shoulder. Rulf twisted, grabbing the soldier’s weapon by the hilt. The soldier racked back on his heel as the tip of the sword levelled with his nose.
“Now, who do you serve … the king or the Prime Minister?” Other men drew their swords and advanced. “Stand back or you all die,” Rulf commanded.
A brave soldier rushed forward with his sword slashing the air. In the blink of an eye, Rulf sprang to his feet, grabbed the soldier whose sword he captured. Spinning him, around he held him in a tight chokehold with his free hand. The swords clanged in the room as the Rulf countered an attack. The man sliced. Rulf sidestepped, pulling his captive with him, using him as a shield. The soldier whose neck was held fast by Rulf’s powerful arm closed his eyes. His face was filled with terror as the opponent’s swords came close to his face a few times.
“Soldier what is your name,�
�� Rulf asked as he countered the attack.
“The name’s Stopher. I shall be remembered for bringing the Fire Knight to his knees.”
However, the advancing soldier almost lost his balance and he cursed under his breath. Rulf saw an opening and sliced across his chest. The blade ripped through three layers of clothing revealing a gash on the flesh. The soldier yelped, but kept advancing. Rulf noticed how his hand shook and slapped his arm with the flat of the blade.
“I do not wish to harm you Stopher,” Rulf said. “Drop your sword.”
“You are a traitor, you must be stopped,” the solider snapped.
At that moment, the door opened and a soldier Rulf knew by the name Jorde, hurried in, his breathing labored. “We’ve been tricked!”
Stopher paused his sword mid-air. “What do you mean?”
“The Prime Minister has arrested the king and accused the king of a crime!” Jorde shouted. “Who shall we believe?”
Stopher’s face grew red as he lowered his weapon. A few soldiers who had drawn their weapons joined at Rulf’s side.
“The prime Minister said that the knight was a traitor to the king,” Stopher said and the others nodded in agreement.
“Are you with the king?” Rulf asked the one he was holding prisoner. “Pledge your allegiance or die.”
“I am with the king,” he replied.
Rulf slowly released him but did not hand him the weapon.
“Wait!” Stopher yelled. “What if the king is guilty of this crime?”
“What nonsense!” a soldier retorted. “What crime was he accused of committing?”
“Breeding with a nether,” the newest arrival replied.
A few soldiers sighed with relief.
“I thought it was something serious. Bedding a nether isn’t so bad,” one soldier declared. “Have you taken a good look at these women?”
“Yes, I tell you. That’s why I haven’t taken a wife,” another said. “I can’t leave these nether damsels.”
Rulf was losing his patience. “If you are done talking rubbish, can we save the king now?”
However, a group of the minister’s minions blocked the door, with a commanding officer at the forefront. Rulf knew of him but could not remember his name. He bore the epaulette of a high-ranking officer, perhaps newly promoted.
“You shall do no such thing,” the commander said.
Rulf pushed through the group that had now joined him, his impatience showing. “Step aside soldier or face my wrath.”
“I have strict orders from my commander in chief and I intend to obey them,” the officer said.
Rulf rolled his eyes as the beginning of anger settled over him. He’d been pussyfooting around these incompetent fools, now he was worried about the king and Catrain. Was the Prime Minister accusing the king of bedding Catrain? He gave himself a mental shake. No. Merek said that Catrain had never entered the palace. How would the king have met her?
“I don’t have time for this,” Rulf muttered. “I must finish this charade.”
Rulf made one step forward, lifted himself a couple of feet in the air and came down slashing with his sword. This took the officer by surprise and his sword crashed to the ground as Rulf’s blade smashed into it with a mighty force.
“Now let me pass before I am forced to shed your blood!”
* * *
A lightheaded feeling assailed Catrain. Not eating for many days had taken its toll. She tried eating the soup and bread the girl had brought, but could not get it all down. She had felt after taking some medicines, but now she was dizzy. As she listened to the exchange between the king, the minister and her father, she knew she could hold out no longer.
The sword loosened from her grasp and she staggered back. A soldier moved to hold her up but she shrugged him off.
“Don’t touch…,” he words trailed off and she slumped against the same soldier.
Even the soldier’s strong arms were not enough to keep her from falling, her knees were giving out and there was nothing she could do to stop them. While her gelatinous knees embarrassed her, her innards quivered as her eyelids dropped. The voices were distant now and she knew she was sinking into the abyss. Her eyelids closed as the darkness covered her like a blanket.
* * *
Her eyes fluttered opened. The first thing she saw was her father’s concerned expression. She smiled as he brushed her cheek and asked her if she was okay. She didn’t get a chance to answer him.
“Drop your weapons!” a command came from the entrance.
At the same time that the voice shouted the order at the main door, a man flew through the north window while another burst through the king’s secretive entry.
The room became chaotic as soldiers rush toward each other. Catrain scrambled to her feet and inhaled a steadying breath. She was uncertain how long she’d been out for. Nevertheless, she felt fine. While Catrain searched for a weapon, her father had already commandeered a sword and approached the minister. A few of Cronus’ underlings blocked Merek and a combat ensued.
Cronus’ voice broke through the din of clanging swords, “Execute them all!”
“Sire?” a soldier queried.
“Are you deaf?” Cronus bellowed. “Execute the traitors to the kingdom!” as he shouted his command, he pointed at the king and then Merek. “The king has defaced our great name!”
Catrain was about to disarm a soldier when someone gripped her arm and pulled her away. She tried to wrangle herself free when she saw Rulf engaging with a soldier. Some of the soldiers were following Cronus’ orders and rushed in their direction. Rulf’s men and her father blocked their path by engaging them in combat.
“Rulf,” she breathed. “Pa!”
“Let the soldiers and knights handle this,” the king said.
Realizing it was he who held her, she relaxed and allowed him to lead her to the back of the room. Once there, he indicated she follow him through the private passage. The soldiers there stepped aside to let them through, some following closely. These were loyal to the king. Once they entered the passageway, the king turned left. Catrain pulled back.
“I can’t leave my father and Rulf.”
The king paused and looked gravely at her. “You know Rulf?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t worry about the knight, he has exceptional gifts and Merced was the best swordsman Cronada has even seen.”
They continued moving through a narrow passage. There were several doors they passed which she assumed led to other meeting rooms or chambers. After some time, they turned left again and the king pushed open a door which took them to a large room. This she assumed was the great chamber. On the four walls hung various weapons. A humongous bed sat in the center on a wide rug. Included was a large chest to the right, a desk against a wall and the door to his wardrobe. The king hurried to the wall at the head of the bed and pulled a sword.
“Guard her well,” he instructed the guards who had followed them. “No harm must come to her.”
“No, I will not remain here alone,” Catrain protested.
The king lay his hand on her head, the way her father would. “You must stay out of harm’s way, my child.”
“You said my father was the greatest swordsman Cronada had ever seen, well he taught me to fight and I will not sit still while he is in battle.”
“You are as stubborn as your…,” the king began but withdrew his words.
Catrain had no time to ponder what he meant to say. She was looking at the weapons, trying to decide which to take. The king began to leave the room through the passage they had entered.
“My uncle taught me to use the bow and I am capable of using a dagger.”
Syreus stopped and turned with a frown. “Your Uncle?”
“Yes, my uncle Brogue. Another one of my uncles perished in the war when the rebels invaded Gerdan.”
“Who told this to you?” he asked.
“My uncle Brogue.”
“Merced has no s
iblings,” the king remarked, frowning deeply. “Who is this uncle of which you speak?”
“Stop changing the subject, Your Majesty. I will join the battle!”
“No you will not.”
“Look, Your Majesty, I don’t know what’s going on, but I wont sit still while my father is in danger. If you leave me here, I will find a way to escape and get to my father.”
To prove her point, she sprinted to the window. The guards ran after her, but she was faster and was halfway through the open window when the king stopped her.
Looking below her, she noticed that soldiers were coming in from all directions of the city. They were surrounding the palace building with their weapons drawn. Shouts from below told her that there was an upheaval. The king joined her at the window and gently gripped her arm. His face showed his dismay when he looked below.
“Very well,” he relented. “Take a weapon and stay close to me. If you go through that window, God knows what Cronus will do once he catches you.”
Catrain felt that something of the sort would work. The king seemed as over protective as her father and uncle had been. Something was amiss and she needed to know what that was. One thing was certain, it appeared that she, Catrain, had become the king’s Achilles’ heel.
Catrain lifted the hem of her dress and tore it, then tied the two ripped ends together. The dress now lifted above her ankle giving her free movement. Her eyes travelled over all four walls then came to rest on a bejeweled bow, its quiver hanging nearby. A stone the size of a thumbnail nested in the grip. The gem reminded her of the one hanging around her neck. It beckoned her and she obeyed its call.
“Not that one,” Syreus said. “I have never been able to get that off the wall since the Esmerelda set it there. That stone is an amulet, she says.”
But Catrain knew that she had to have that weapon and ignored the king’s words. When she reached the wall, she reached up and held the grip, expecting it to take some strength to come free. A gasp left her lips as the bow came off without effort.
King Syreus face lost its color, much as before. Now he gripped his chest as his knees buckled.