He soon established his place and settled in to a new routine. Only two moonwakes later, he had identified the guard that stood on moonsleep duty for Prince Leon. That very moonsleep, in the sleepy barracks, he approached a table where two soldiers occupied themselves with a quiet game of cards.
‘I have a little money to wager,’ he offered. ‘Can I pour us all a drink and bet my well earned cash in a friendly card game, with two kindly fellows?’
The younger guard, not long in the army himself, was eager to play for money. The older one was a little wiser to newcomers.
‘I have guard duty to Prince Leon so it will need to be a quick game,’ the older soldier replied sternly.
‘And, the drink?’ He reminded them. ‘I have the finest bottle of Guindas a man could wish for. Just a wee nip and it will warm you for your night duty, I assure you.’
‘I am partial to a little of the strong stuff,’ the old soldier gave in reluctantly, with a wide almost toothless grin. ‘It’s the cherry aniseed, it strengthens the old bones. Yes, my friend. Join us and bring your liquor. But only a wee nip, mind.’
Leaving the two dealing the cards he returned to his bunk to pour drinks.
‘Here comrades,’ he returned somewhat jovially, passing the taller tumbler to the old soldier. ‘I have poured you a little extra on accounting of your age and the long night’s duty ahead.’
‘Well, I shouldn’t have too much but my achy bones could do with a quick warming. Thanks to ya, me friend. This should get me through the night.’
The newcomer cunningly allowed the old soldier to win his coins in this dull game that they shared.
‘I likes yer liquor, but I likes yer silver better,’ the old soldier sniggered, discharging bubbly spittle and exposing brown stained teeth, as he packed the cards away.
‘What goes around, comes around,’ the newcomer implied, feigning a look of misery at his losses.
‘I’m off anyways,’ he informed his two gaming partners. ‘I gots me duty to attend to. See you all in the moonwake.’
All wished him a peaceful shift and he left the barracks to begin his moonsleep duty of guarding the Prince. The two remaining soldiers parted, moving to their beds but only one of them smiled smugly at his private triumph.
The old soldier approached the noble's chambers, rubbing his belly to try to rid himself of a griping pain. Other guards, also posted on moonsleep duty, stood outside various chamber doors. None would communicate with the other; they worked in a silent co-operation, whilst their charges slept in safety from any intruders that may happen to gain access to the palace private quarters.
A small table and chair waited at the far end of the corridor for the guards to take turns in having a break. All eyes would watch their door as each rested from this wearisome duty. The old soldier had already had his turn but needed desperately to rest again, a cold sweat on his brow slithered a wet streak down his cheek. No other complained when he took an extra break, he was respected amongst the ranks. Removing his hat, he wiped his bony bald head with a forest-green necktie and unfastened the top button of his uniformed jacket. He could feel his throat constricting and swelling as if the gap for breathing was getting smaller. Pulsating cramps continued to squeeze in his stomach. A burning in his throat choked the breath from his lungs. Falling from the chair with numbed legs, a heavy pain throbbed on the insides of his arms and over the bone of his chest. He burned up, yet shivered uncontrollably. The guard posted nearest to the resting table ran to assist him. He found the old man lying on the floor trembling with a grey pallor to his cold clammy skin.
‘Quickly,’ he alerted the other guards. ‘Get the Healer. I think Samuel’s dying.’
The newly appointed soldier lay in his bed, expecting a commotion to start up any moment within the barracks. He sat up; others remained under their blankets not wanting to be disturbed after their arduous moonwake duties.
‘You!’ the sergeant shouted.‘New fellow. Get dressed. I need you to take over guard duty for Prince Leon. The usual guard has been taken ill and no one else is stirring. Look sharp man, I want you there, now!’
He stirred from his bed groggily, keeping pretense that he was still sleepy. The sergeant marched out to attend the Sickness Quarters. Fedros hid his smile of content that all was going to plan.
The next moonwake Fedros arrived back in the barracks from his new duty. The men mourned quietly at the death of the old soldier. He had succeeded with his Master’s instructions.
Chapter 5 Feeding of Souls
The women in Lumberly were overjoyed at the arrival of a new herb nurse and midwife and none could believe that all she asked in return for her services was a bed and some small scraps of food on her table. Too long had they relied on good luck whenever illness had struck or the women laboured with birth. If she had saved Pedros’s prize ewe, then that was good enough for them. She was quickly accepted and welcomed then shown to a rickety one-room log cabin. Every family visited her, giving small gifts of food which they could ill afford, as they each proudly introduced themselves and their offspring.
Three moonwakes after her arrival she felt reassured by her Master’s praises in her success at, once again, fooling the foolish that she was to be their saviour.
‘I ‘ave a human birth due in the next few moonwakes Master,’ Rikka spoke loudly to the Emperor.
Deliver this one safely old woman, he instructed. I can take its soul later. Continue to gain their trust.
Rikka laughed with a searing high-pitched cackle, quietly relieved that it was the babes he wanted to devour and not her. She had no remorse for the part she played. If her Master needed strength, she was grateful to be the one to provide his food. If the people had been stronger willed, then her Master would not be able to possess their minds, a Monshaad can only prey on the feeble minded.
Just as she had finished talking with her Master, a loud pounding rattled at her door. She was not startled, it was an expected visitor. Her Master had informed her that a young soul was about to become available, that shouldn’t raise any suspicions.
Shainston the baker knocked frantically.
‘Quickly herb nurse, quickly!’ The baker was eager for her to answer his pleas.
‘What is it, that ye disturb me in such a manner with all yer thumping an’ yer yellin’?’ she asked of the man panting at her open door.
‘My son, Rikka, he ... he’s had a nasty fall from a tall tree.’ Shainston paused to breath. ‘We were smoking a bee’s nest for the honey and he lost his footing. Come, come quickly old woman, make haste to my home please.’ Shainston was relieved that the village now had a healer.
As they hurried through the dirt tracks nearing towards the boy’s home, the baker calmed himself, his speech becoming more coherent.
‘My son is conscious Rikka,’ he informed her trustingly. ‘We fear he may have a broken bone in his arm.’
‘I thought he was dying with all the noise ye were creating!’ Rikka responded, mockingly.
‘No, no herb nurse,’ he explained. ‘He’s in terrible pain but I don’t believe his life is threatened.’
Rikka said no more. Her Master would be displeased, he had intended the fall he had caused to be life threatening.
‘My lad’s used to climbing up to the honey bees,’ the baker informed her proudly. ‘He complains that a voice in his head tried to make him jump out of the tree. Have you ever heard such nonsense? I hope you can make sense of his ramblings herb nurse. I fear he has also bumped his head.’
Arriving at the home of the baker, she ordered the gathered neighbours out of the room, with the exception of the parents.
Quickly she began to inspect the child’s bones and head whilst chanting in a language neither parent could understand.
‘Can you help him Rikka?’ the mother asked worriedly.
‘Quiet!’ Rikka spat back sharply. She was concentrating on her Master’s instructions whilst chanting a spell to put the boy to sleep. Soon her Master would t
ake hold of this child’s lifeline and her chanting would make it easier for him to consume the soul, through her. In a bleary-eyed trance, she continued to chant and the boy became limp in her arms. The parents rushed to take their son from the old woman.
‘What has happened to my boy?’ the baker cried. ‘He had only a broken bone I am sure.’
‘Nonsense,’ Rikka managed to snap, although weakened by the deed she had performed for her Master. ‘He has internal injuries and I am trying to locate ‘em. Bleeding from his liver, he is. It’s torn in the fall.’
‘No!’ the mother screamed, shocked at this sudden change in her son. ‘He was awake. I spoke to him. He said his arm was hurting. How could this be?’
‘He also said he heard voices in ‘is head, is that not so?’ Rikka used this information to her advantage. ‘He was dying, woman. A boy cannot fall that far without damage to his body. Even I could not have saved him and I have saved many a life.’
Rikka left the mother sobbing loudly, embracing her son’s limp body. The father wept on bended knees, his heart broken as he clung on to his wife and lost child. Rikka smiled. A small meal for her Master, many more to come.
Chapter 6 A New Guard
The Royal Family of Lairkland reside in the Golden Pyramid Palace of Beldroth. Unlike other structures in the city, this has no whitewash to reflect the sun’s rays. Built many generations ago, originally constructed from yellowed sandstone with golden dust embedded within the bricks. Standing boldly, it emanates a bright golden glow that should strain the eyes of any that look upon it. Instead, with the help of magic, it gleams a beautiful yellowed shimmering radiance. It is truly a glorious building, befit for any sovereign ruler.
A vast network of darkened corridors and chambers, tunnel underneath the palace structure creating a subterranean level that houses the kitchens and the servants’ quarters. Many of the older dustier passageways remain unused and no one really knows the full extent of all these chambers that run under the city. The cool darkness below also serves as a shadowed escape from the constant heat of the sun above.
The ground level of the building constitutes of the bottom step of a pyramid shaped structure. This is the largest floor on the surface, boasting beautiful stained glass windows that brighten hallways leading on to huge rooms used for galas, balls and public meetings. Each further level composes of further smaller gradiated steps of a pyramid contour. These floors are the chambers of the private quarters for the Royal Family and other guests. On these levels, inbuilt into thick stone slabs, are narrow slits that allow the sun’s rays to invade the rooms with bright lines of white light. The apex of the pyramid is a roofless level. An intricate network of tall golden lattice fence posts surround the upper gardened terrace as the pinnacle to the pyramid silhouette. Here the Upper Gardens boast spraying water fountains with seating and tables for leisure and relaxation. Central to the Upper Gardens stands a glasshouse that protects an exotic array of unusual plants and flowers. The glasshouse is roofed with a bronzed glass that creates the pointed peak of the pyramid. A warm yellow sunlight shines in on the outlandish indoor floral garden. This magical conservatory is a favourite of the youngest Prince Raphael, who loves the damp heat and the strong aroma of the unusual blooms where strange butterflies hover from petal to leaf. He spends many a time in this spectacular garden with his grandmother who equally shares an interest in this colourful environment. Every level of the whole formation is easily accessible by spiraling stone stairways within.
* * *
In the private chambers of the palace, the residents stir themselves with sleepy heads, readying themselves for a new moonwake.
Prince Leon, upon awakening, remembers his promise to Heather. A thin cork shutter covers the opened narrow windows of his sleeping chambers, to keep his room darkened. A slight breeze brushes his cheeks as he pops his head out of a weightless fluffy woolen blanket, the moonsleeps could be as cold as the moonwakes could be hot. Slowly he becomes aware of the rest of his body and tosses his blanket aside to stretch his warm supple limbs in the cooled air.
Outside Prince Leon’s chambers, Fedros is positioned as the new guard. He dislikes this tedious duty but this was the only way that his Master could gain the access he needed to spy upon the Prince. Unable to enter the Prince’s strong willed mind, the Emperor used Fedros’s mind skills to observe the boy. Whilst the Prince had slept, Fedros had sneaked in to explore the chambers. It suddenly dawned on him that he had not turned off the oil lamp, which he had lit at a low level so as not to bump into anything and create a noise. Keenly eavesdropping at the muffled noises of the Prince’s movements, he decided it was too late to sneak back inside and prepared himself for the opening of the door. Shifting uncomfortably on his large stubby legs, he attempts to shake out the cold stiffness in his limbs, a result of this inactive duty in this glum candlelit corridor. Scratching, with dirtied fingernails, he rubs at his unshaven prickly chin, feeling considerably irritated. Others were also stirring in their chambers and the corridor was starting to brighten as doors opened and closed again, to let maids in and residents out.
Two doors up from the Prince’s rooms a loud repetitive banging vibrates through a large thick wooden door. Leon’s Grandma Dahlia repeatedly hammers her stick on the bedpost with the intention of gaining her maid’s attention. Fedros observes a small plump woman, dressed in a long blue tunic and a bleach white starched apron, flurry up the corridor with clean linen in hand and flushed cheeks. She pats her hair into place before entering the noisy chamber of the old lady.
From his chamber, Leon could dimly hear his grandmother creating her usual wakeup routine. He felt a stab of pity for her maid and remembers a childhood belief that his grandmother’s maid never ever slept, but she was still in the services of the palace caring for the old lady, so they must be fond of each other.
Stretching his arms up in the air, he climbs off the heavy feather mattress of his large lumpy bed, reminding himself that he must ask someone to give this bed a good beating to smooth out the lumps and bumps. Strolling stiffly to a small rosewood table holding his washing basin, he swills his face with cooled water to wash away the sleep sticking his eyes together. As he peers around his chamber, drying his damp eyes, he notices that the oil lamps were still burning, although quite low. This seems a little strange as he always turns them off at the moonsleep, he dislikes any light when trying to get to sleep. Not lingering on this detail for too long, he approaches his tall dark wooden wardrobe and dresses quickly into a short white cotton tunic, belted at the waist with a thin leather rope.
He then slips easily into lose white leggings, all very befitting for a normal hot sunny moonwake in the life of a normal Prince.
Picking up a bone comb from his table, he tug through dark brown strands of thick long straight hair. Quickly tying it into a tail with a smaller leather rope and not delving too much on how he looks, it was just another normal moonwake.
Certain that his Grandma Dahlia was not yet ready to surface out of her chambers, he decides now is a good time to leave his room and go see if any of his brothers have woken yet. He loves his grandma dearly but was only too aware that once she had spotted him she would fuss and bother and it would be a long time before he could escape her clutches. He would be forced to sip herbal teas and she would ask her maid to plait his messy hair and then she may decide that he should spend the entire moonwake with her, walking in the gardens. Therefore, it had to be now, whilst her maid still dressed and bathed her. Slowly he opened his door and peers out a little at a time, looking like a naughty boy escaping a punishment locked in his room.
Fedros gawped at a slowly peering head, wondering if the Prince suspected something amiss. The Prince smiled as he exited his door and quietly closed it behind him.
‘Good moonwake,’ the Prince greeted the guard. ‘Oh, what happened to Samuel? He’s done my guard duty for as long as I can remember. No-one told me I was getting a new guard.’
‘Er, er you need t
o speak with my sergeant,’ Fedros nervously replied. ‘All I know is your guard was taken ill suddenly.’ Fully aware that the poisoning had already ensured he would never return to any more duties, not in this life. Feeling a sticky wetness of sweat on his palms, he hid them behind his back as best he could, knowing that his Master would be observing his actions, he did not want to appear suspicious to the Prince.
‘I will, yes, I’ll speak to Sergeant Blackeley, because I should be told these things. What’s your name sir? If I’m to put my trust in you for a while, we may as well get acquainted,’ Prince Leon enquired innocently.
‘My name’s Fedros, son of Rikka who’s a herb nurse.’ Fedros decided mentioning his mother may soften his introduction to the Prince. Who would suspect a man who talks of his mother? Leon thought the new guard looked a little nervous but put this down to his new duties and anyway, he did not want to linger too long in these corridors, Grandma Dahlia would be sure to hear his voice.
‘I bid you a good moonwake Fedros and I’ll see you at moonsleep no doubt, assuming your duty is ended now. By the way, my grandmother may be interested to hear of your mother’s skills, she’s always seeking new remedies for her aches and pains. Do you mind if I mention this to her?’
‘My mother would be honoured,’ Fedros grinned with an extra wide smile becoming more confident at how easy things were falling into place. ‘As you wish, I’ll return at moonsleep for my duties.’
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