by Lana Axe
Shala immediately began twisting Aubriana’s hair to secure it, but Aubriana held up a hand. “Leave it,” she said. “He’ll be even angrier if he thinks I kept him waiting for my own vanity.”
Shala released the golden strands, allowing them to fall freely upon the princess’s shoulders. With a nod, Aubriana headed out to the throne room, while Shala followed close behind. Aubriana approached the king with a polite curtsy. He stared at her, his eyes narrow, his expression severe. Ivor stood at the king’s side, his arms held tightly behind his back.
“Did you or did you not send a letter to your brother that contained information about our armies?” Prince Ivor asked. He strode forward to stare into his wife’s eyes. In his hand was a small piece of parchment.
“I did not,” she replied. “I have no knowledge of your armies.”
The king shook his head and waited for the prince to prove his case.
“I have a letter here written in your own hand.” Ivor shoved the paper toward her.
Taking the page from her husband’s hand, she scanned the writing. “This is not my handwriting,” she declared. “I have not written to my brother since my arrival in Na’zora. I have corresponded only with my sister-in-law, and I have not done so since the war began.” In order to send letters to Ryshel, Aubriana had entrusted them to the care of her closest friends. She trusted them completely. Neither the king nor the prince were aware of these letters, none of which contained information about the war.
“Liar! It is your seal!” Ivor shouted. Snatching the paper from her hands, he presented it to the king. “You can see, Majesty, that is clearly her seal on this letter addressed to King Gannon of Ra’jhou.”
The assembled men at court began to murmur. Aubriana looked around at their faces, knowing she had already been convicted. There was no hope for a fair trial. It would seem her own husband had drafted a letter in order to frame her. She failed to see what such actions would accomplish, but she knew there was no chance of proving her innocence. Perhaps Ivor was planning to have her executed, though there was no reason to do so. He was free to pursue other women as he wished, and Aubriana maintained her silence on the matter. If he wanted her gone, all he had to do was send her away.
The king examined the red wax seal. “This is indeed the seal of Princess Aubriana. She shall be confined to her rooms with only one servant to wait upon her. She may have no visitors.”
Aubriana felt a lump rise in her throat. “Your Majesty, may I still be visited by my son?”
“Certainly not,” he replied. “You will not corrupt the heir to this kingdom. Guards!”
As she pleaded with the king to reconsider, two guards grabbed her arms and dragged her away. They forced her back to her chambers, shoving Shala inside as well. The doors to her chamber would be guarded at all hours from now on.
As the doors slammed shut, Aubriana crumpled to the floor in tears. Shala knelt, taking the princess’s head and pressing it to her chest.
“Please don’t cry, my lady,” she said as tears ran down her own cheeks.
“My son,” she said. “My son.” Aubriana could hardly breathe through the heaviness in her chest. She was already a prisoner and had thought the king couldn’t make her life any worse. How wrong she had been. Now she would be denied the one thing that brought her joy. Without her child, she had nothing.
Chapter 14
“My eyes have never beheld such a sight,” Gannon declared, shaking his head. “Fire rained down from the heavens, unleashing chaos among our troops.”
The war council remained silent, listening to the king’s words. Na’zora’s mages had been brought into full action, and they were quickly decimating Ra’jhou’s ranks with their destructive magic.
“Their fireballs tear through lines of men without slowing. How do we counter such an attack?” Gannon looked around at his councilors, who were staring at the conference table, their heads held low. His eyes landed on his brother. “Efren?”
Efren shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. After a moment, he said, “Perhaps we could create a diversion? Draw their attention away from our main force?”
“How?” Gannon asked.
Efren scanned his mind but found he had no valid idea. What could possibly interest mages enough to convince them to leave the fighting?
General Willem scoffed. “He doesn’t know,” he said. “He’s no fighter.”
Gannon slammed his hand against the table and stood. “One of you had better think of something!” he shouted. “These mages are dangerous, and they must be stopped. Our survival depends on it!”
With a deep breath, Efren said, “I am working on something with the help of a Ral’nassan sorcerer, but things are not going as quickly as I would like.” Master Uhnar drank more than his fair share of wine during his short stay, and he took half the castle’s reserves back home with him. He also tried to charm all the single women at court, in addition to several of the married ones. So far, there was little benefit to be seen from his visit. Efren doubted that the elf was the most trustworthy person to depend on, but he could do nothing more than sit and wait. With any luck, Uhnar’s contacts on the Sunswept Isles would prove more helpful than he had.
“Keep me informed,” Gannon said, as if defeated.
Councilman Faril arrived late to the meeting, a somber expression on his face. With a bow, he presented a letter to the king. “A message from King Tyrol, Your Majesty.”
Gannon snatched the letter away and sank into his chair. His eyes scanning the letter, he said, “It seems my sister has been found guilty of treason. He intends to punish her severely.” Rising to his feet, he stared momentarily at the wall. Then, with a quick movement he kicked over the wooden chair, sending it crashing to the floor. “Damn him!” he cried in frustration. “I will rip his heart out if he harms my sister!” His face was red with rage. Tearing the letter to shreds he threw it onto the floor. “Saddle my horse,” he commanded. “There is no time to spare.”
“Your Majesty,” Efren said. “We have no way of knowing if King Tyrol is telling the truth. You mustn’t rush in too quickly.”
“What gives you the right to tell your sovereign what he must not do?” Gannon was irritated by his brother’s words. Though he was grateful to have him tend matters of state, Efren was a novice when it came to war. “This is a time for action, Brother.”
“I only meant to ask you to be cautious. King Tyrol knows well that Aubriana has had no contact with us. I fear he might be laying a trap.”
“I’m surprised by these words,” Gannon replied. “You do not wish me to rescue our dear sister?” How could Efren possibly insist he take no action? Aubriana’s life was at stake, and Gannon would do whatever it took to save her.
“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” Efren said quickly. He would do anything to shield his sister from harm, assuming she was truly in danger. There was no way of knowing whether Tyrol’s letter was a trap. It was best to take caution and confirm this report if at all possible. Otherwise, Gannon might be risking his own life unnecessarily.
“Do you not fear for her safety?” Gannon continued. “I will not sit by while her life is in danger. King Tyrol is a monster, and he means to do her harm. Where is your courage?”
The disappointment in his brother’s tone rang in Efren’s ears. “I would not trade one sibling for the other,” he said with a sigh. “She may not be in danger. After all, she is married to Prince Ivor and mother to Na’zora’s heir. Surely even King Tyrol would not be so ruthless.”
Gannon clapped his brother on the back. “Believe it, my brother. Our sister is in danger, and I will do what I can to save her.”
“May I investigate the matter before you charge off into battle?” Gannon was not one to take caution, and it was common knowledge he would charge into battle on a moment’s notice. Though he was a brave fighter, strategy and planning were not his strengths.
“Do as you like,” the king said. “B
y the time your investigation is concluded, I will already have Aubriana back here safely.” He strode from the room, leaving Efren in silence.
Efren rose and exited the council chamber. Slowly, he made his way down the corridor and stepped outside the stuffy castle. The air outside was cool against his skin, but the sun’s heat warmed his face. He took a seat on the castle steps and sighed.
“Are you all right, my lord?” a passing servant asked.
Efren did not speak. Instead, he waved his hand, dismissing the servant. Moments later, the distinctive sound of horses rode past, their thundering hooves suggesting a large troop was already riding out in defense of Aubriana. Though he could not be certain she was not in danger, he could not dismiss the feeling that Tyrol was up to something.
The sound of trumpets accompanied the king’s troops as he set off for battle. Efren rose to his feet, holding up a hand in farewell to his brother. The gesture went unnoticed by Gannon, who shouted orders to his men before riding off into the distance. Efren waited until all of the horses had passed, their footfalls fading away into silence.
Returning inside the castle, his heart grew heavier with each step. How many mages would his brother encounter this time? If he truly believed Aubriana was in danger, nothing would stop Gannon. He would charge into the mages as if they were simple soldiers. It could cost him everything. Efren struggled to keep his head high. His mind was in turmoil, his heart heavy. Whatever Tyrol was planning, Efren could only hope his brother would be able to fight his way through it.
Chapter 15
Hundreds of displaced citizens took up residence on the castle grounds during the king’s absence. Makeshift camps were set up behind its stone walls, where the people hoped to find safety. Each day Ryshel walked the grounds, helping in any way she could. She fed livestock, brushed horses, and assisted in the castle kitchens. Her children helped as well, forgetting their stations as nobles, and placing themselves among the commoners. They learned some basic cooking and particularly enjoyed kneading bread dough. Ryshel took pride in their willingness to help. Her children would grow into fine citizens who would treat those beneath them with dignity and respect.
One evening, after a large group of displaced Ra’jhouans had arrived, Ryshel made a request of her husband. “I would like to take over castle management duties,” she declared. “With the councilmen busy with the war, someone needs to see that the castle is being run efficiently. You are far too busy coordinating the supply lines and dispatching more troops to handle this new wave of citizens.”
Efren was pleased that his wife would offer to share in the work of running a kingdom. There was already more than he could handle, and each night he went to bed exhausted. “I would be pleased to have your help in this matter,” he replied. He trusted her more than any of the councilors and knew she had the kingdom’s best interests at heart.
Thereafter, all affairs of household went to Ryshel for approval. Most Ra’jhouan noblewomen would not have considered taking on such an enormous task. They were expected to please their husbands and bear children, not manage an entire castle. It was expected that they would defer to their husbands in all manners concerning the home and money. Educating women in such matters was not a priority in Ra’jhou. If a woman could sing, dance, and embroider, she was considered well educated.
Ryshel enjoyed being in charge of the castle’s affairs. There were hundreds of citizens to care for, and they needed new methods of keeping the area clean and safe. She saw to it that all farm animals were kept in pens, preventing them from soiling the grounds and spreading sickness. Also, she put dozens of men to work improving the castle’s waste management systems. New canals were being dug to remove waste and prevent disease. So far, the citizens were healthy and thriving. Overpopulation was still a possibility, and Ryshel was constantly deciding where to put the newcomers. It was a demanding position, but one she enjoyed.
With Ryshel in charge, the castle grounds flourished despite the large number of people now housed within its walls. One afternoon, as she was inspecting the area, a slow procession of mounted soldiers came into view. They approached quietly, the king’s banner flying on the wind above them. Ryshel’s heart sank as her eyes took in the sight of King Gannon. His lifeless form lay upon a cart, drawn by his own horse. She stood frozen, barely able to breathe.
“I bring sad news, my lady,” General Willem said. “Our beloved king has been slain in battle.” He presented the king’s ring to the woman who would now serve as queen.
Clasping a hand to her mouth, Ryshel’s eyes filled with tears. “We must inform Efren,” she managed to say. Turning quickly, she lifted her skirt a few inches to avoid tripping and ran into the castle.
Efren was seated in the council chambers, listening to his advisors argue over the location of a group of soldiers. The topic was unimportant, but each had his own opinion and was determined to share it.
The doors swung open, and Ryshel stepped inside. “My lords, I must inform you that King Gannon has been killed.”
Silence filled the room, her words hanging heavily in the air. Efren swallowed hard upon hearing the news. His heart ached for the brother he had lost, but there would be no time for him to mourn. Whether he wished the position or not, he was now King of Ra’jhou. There was no other who had a claim to the throne, and his own sons were far too young for him to consider passing the title to one of them.
Ryshel moved silently to her husband’s side. Placing Gannon’s ring upon his right forefinger, she kissed his cheek and said, “Long live the king.”
“Long live the king,” one councilman said, standing.
The others followed suit, echoing, “Long live the king!” Each man made his way to Efren to kiss the ring and declare his loyalty. An uneasy silence followed as Efren found himself at a loss for words. He had loved his brother dearly, and his heart was heavy from the loss.
Standing, he took Ryshel’s hand and pressed it to his chest. “We must get word to Aubriana,” he said, thinking of his only remaining sibling.
“I’ve heard nothing from her for weeks,” Ryshel replied. “It may not be possible to get a message through.”
Efren nodded, determination filling his eyes. “Then we shall have to put an end to this war.” Sinking into his chair, he whispered, “He and I disagreed before he left. I will never have the chance to apologize.”
Ryshel kissed his cheek and gently rubbed the back of his hand. “Your brother loved you, and I know he held no malice against you. Brothers disagree at times. I’m sure he would forgive you without a second thought.”
Efren nodded, knowing she was probably right. The best thing he could do for Gannon was to keep Ra’jhou in one piece. To his advisors, he said, “I am not the man my brother was, and I cannot lead troops into battle. Nevertheless, I will strive each day to be a good king and to safeguard this land from its enemies.”
In the back of his mind, Efren still regretted not being more supportive of his brother’s last campaign. Was Aubriana safe? There had been no further word from King Tyrol on the subject. Perhaps Gannon’s death was the result of the trap Efren feared had been set. There was no way to know for certain unless word arrived from Aubriana herself. Still, any letter from her could be forged, or she could be forced to say things that were untrue. Efren’s only chance of giving peace to his brother was to bring this war to an end and negotiate the return of Aubriana. He could only hope it wasn’t too late to save her.
Chapter 16
Efren was crowned the following morning, with Ryshel standing at his side. There was no crowd, and the general sentiment was somber. The councilors whispered to each other their doubts about Efren’s abilities. Though he had been serving in a position of power for years, Gannon had always had the final word. Now they would have no choice but to listen to a man with no battle experience in this time of war.
Ryshel’s role as queen was ceremonial only. A queen had no say in matters concerning the governing of the kingdom. She w
as expected only to supply Ra’jhou with an heir, which Ryshel had already done. With her duties managing the castle grounds, she held more power than any woman in Ra’jhou. She planned to continue her duties and to act as an advisor to her husband, if only behind closed doors.
After the coronation, she suggested, “My father would make a fine First Advisor for you, my lord. He has not been among the naysayers at court, and I have written him many times over the years what a wonderful husband you are to me.”
Efren considered the idea. “Does he have much battle experience? I need someone who is wise, but also someone who will trust me. I have never been in a battle myself, but I have heard hundreds of stories involving war. I am not as uneducated as those at court believe.”
“I know that to be true,” she declared. “My father is a kind man, and he is fair and honest. He will serve you well, or you have my permission to dismiss him.”
A grin spread over Efren’s face. “You would give your king permission?”
With a laugh, she replied, “Indeed I would. Shall I send for him?”
“Yes,” he replied. “It would be helpful if he could come right away.”
They proceeded into the council chambers, where his advisors were awaiting him. Ryshel entered at her husband’s side, escorting him to his seat at the head of the table.
As she turned to leave, Efren said, “I would have you stay.”