by RM Wark
Lady Delia marched down the mountains and through a vast river valley that seemed to have no end. They would occasionally encounter other travelers along the paths, and though the travelers would often stare, they never dared to intervene.
She had cried for help once, but the unsuspecting traveler had recoiled in fear, and Lady Yelena unleashed a furious spell that felt as though a thousand fists tore into her body. Fists that went unseen. Fists that left no bruises. Fists that brought Lady Delia to her knees in agonizing pain nonetheless.
“Why are you doing this to me?” cried Lady Delia one morning.
Her legs were still aching from the previous day’s march, and she could not bear the thought of taking another step.
“I came seeking peace! I have no quarrel with you.”
But Lady Yelena merely laughed. “Foolish child. I can and shall do whatever it is I want to you. You are an evil Western Wizard. You claim to be the daughter of King Huron. You are lucky I let you live.”
“But I am not evil. I never did anything to harm you,” Lady Delia pleaded.
“Your father did plenty,” snapped Lady Yelena, spitting in the young wizard’s face.
Lady Delia began to sob at the hopelessness of it all.
“Your father killed my husband,” continued Lady Yelena, her voice filled with anger. “Did you know that? Did you know about my dear Lord Sergei?”
Lady Delia sniffled and shook her head.
“Poor Sergei was tortured to death. Your father cut off my dear husband’s fingers and sent them to the Emperor. I recognized the wedding band immediately. And before my very eyes, the fingers turned to dust, and that is how I learned of his death.”
Lady Delia wished she could believe that Lady Yelena was lying to her, but she knew her father. The screams that would occasionally echo from the cells below the castle still haunted her dreams.
“March, King Huron’s daughter! March!”
Lady Delia struggled to her feet. King Huron’s daughter continued to march.
*************
“Why did you come here? Are you a spy?”
Lady Delia regarded the angry man upon the chair of stone sitting in the large, empty throne room. Her body and mind were weak from the endless march.
“No, I am not a spy,” came the defeated reply.
“Then why are you here?”
“I … I had hoped to come with an offer of peace ….” Lady Delia’s voice trailed off, and she glanced nervously at Lady Yelena. The Eastern Wizard responded with a satisfied smile.
“So you claim to be an emissary of the King?” It was clear the Emperor was frustrated.
“Of sorts …,” she began.
“King Huron does not send emissaries!” the Emperor barked. “He sends only ravens … if he even bothers to extend that courtesy.”
My father does not have emissaries? How can that be? She had seen the Eastern emissaries in Mt. Xavier. She had always assumed there were Western emissaries as well.
“You,” the Emperor growled, “are a liar.”
“No, no.” Lady Delia vehemently shook her head. “I … I am the King’s daughter—”
“The King would never be foolish enough to send his own daughter into the hands of his enemy!”
“You misunderstand, Emperor. He does not know I am here.”
For once, Lord Jarek did not interrupt her.
“I … I was angry with my father,” she continued. “I did not believe him … about the East, that is. I wanted to avoid another senseless battle. I had hoped to convince you of a peaceful resolution.”
Lady Delia regarded the Emperor, hopeful that her words might have resonated with him.
“You are not the King – and you have already admitted your anger with the King – so you cannot claim to speak for him. Your words of peace are meaningless,” the Emperor retorted. “So I ask once again, why did you come here? Are you a spy?”
“Lord Jarek, please …,” Lady Delia begged. “I am not a spy. You must believe me.” Tears filled her eyes.
“You have given me no reason to believe you,” he replied.
“But—” she began to protest.
“Perhaps some time in the quiet of the dungeons shall make your mind a bit clearer.”
“Father, do you really believe that is wise?” The words had been spoken softly by a dark-eyed wizard standing beside the Emperor’s chair, but they echoed through the air nonetheless.
The Emperor shot an angry glance at his son, who hung his head low.
“Guards, take her away.”
*************
The following day, Lady Dinah made her way back down the narrow stairs to the circular room with eight iron doors. She paused briefly at the door leading to cell three, where Lady Victoria was biding her time. There were so many questions left unanswered, but they would need to wait for another day, when Lady Dinah’s emotions were not so raw.
Lady Dinah took a deep breath and continued to walk in the circular path. “One, two, three, four,” she whispered to herself as she passed each successive door before coming to a stop.
“Aperire ostium!” she commanded with her wand.
The door opened, ever so slowly, and she stepped inside the narrow passageway. She did not have to walk far.
“Hello.”
She was somewhat startled by the sound of an Eastern accent coming from cell thirteen. She turned to the man sitting on his bed. He was thin and frail, and yet he still smiled. It was a kind smile, and she could see the resemblance to Lord Edmund. Admittedly, she had been hostile while interrogating Lady Victoria. She could not bring herself to be so hostile with the brother of her dear friend.
“Lord Abner,” she said, nodding her head in greeting.
He rose from the bed and approached the bars. “And whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?” he asked.
He has been gone for so long … before I was born. I wonder if …. “My name is Lady Dinah.”
“Ah, the Queen! How do you do?” Lord Abner bowed low.
“Very well, thank you. I would like to ask you some questions.”
“Aye, my Queen.”
“Why are you here? After all this time, why did the Emperor set you free?”
“The Emperor apologizes for the Easterners crossing into the West. He is working to resolve the situation as quickly as possible. Our release is meant to serve as a gesture of good faith.”
Lady Dinah frowned. The Emperor’s message had clearly been rehearsed often.
“Were you ill-treated?” she asked.
It was Lord Abner’s turn to frown. “No more than a bird in a cage. I was well fed. I was given everything I asked for – except permission to return home.”
“Were you kept in the dungeons?”
Lady Dinah wondered if Lord Abner’s privileges differed from Lady Victoria’s.
“For a time, my Queen. But after the first hundred years or so, the Emperor released me from the dungeons and set me up in my own private quarters within his castle.”
“One hundred years?”
“Aye, my Queen. It was quite a long time to spend alone in the dark.” Lord Edmund’s expression grew visibly troubled.
“Did you have freedom to roam the castle? Or were you confined to your quarters?”
“There were no armed guards, my Queen, but it was … understood … that I should not stray far.”
“I see.” Lady Dinah tilted her head. “Were you allowed to interact with Lady Victoria?”
“No, my Queen,” he replied, shaking his head. “I did not even know of Lady Victoria’s existence until we were informed of the Emperor’s decision to release us.”
“Lady Victoria was kept secret from you?” She was somewhat surprised by the revelation.
“Aye. And I was kept secret from her.”
“So, in all your years held captive in the East, did you ever come across another Western Wizard besides Lady Victoria?” asked Lady Dinah, eyeing Lord Abner closely for any sign
s of deceit.
“I know of only one other,” Lord Abner confessed.
“And who might that be?” Lady Dinah struggled to keep the emotion from her voice.
“I was captured with Lord Gideon.”
Lady Dinah’s heart skipped a beat.
“But I do not know what came of him,” Lord Abner continued. “After we were captured, I never saw him again.”
“The Eastern Wizards listed Lord Gideon among the dead from the First War,” Lady Dinah explained.
A look of genuine sadness crossed over Lord Abner’s face. He nodded but said nothing.
“But, then again,” Lady Dinah continued, “your name appeared in that very same list. So perhaps Lord Gideon still lives? Perhaps he lives on in the dungeons of Cetahl?” She forced her voice to sound hopeful.
“I would prefer to think otherwise, my Queen. Lord Gideon was a good man. He deserves a better fate than the dungeons of Cetahl.”
“No doubt. But you cannot fault a daughter for hoping her father might still live.” She held her breath as she watched the look of shock appear upon the old man’s face.
“Lord Gideon was your father?” he asked, bewildered. “He never said anything ….”
“He never knew. He was captured by the East before my mother could tell him she was with child,” Lady Dinah quickly explained.
“But I thought Lady Delia was in love with … Lord Milton? Aye, that was his name, Lord Milton. Forgive me, my Queen. When I was told Lady Delia had a daughter, I had assumed ….” Lord Abner scratched his head in confusion.
“Your confusion is quite understandable, Lord Abner. Indeed, my mother and Lord Milton were in love at one time, but alas, my grandfather did not approve.”
Lord Abner slowly began to nod his head. “Aye, that does sound familiar. Forgive me, it has been so long.” He sighed and turned his attention back to the Queen. “In any event, I am sorry you never had a chance to meet your father, my Queen. I owe my life to Lord Gideon.”
Lady Dinah felt the tension leave her body, and she smiled politely. “It warms my heart to hear that, my lord. Thank you.”
He smiled in return.
“You are certain you never heard of another Western Wizard held captive in Cetahl while you were there?” she pressed again.
“Aye, my Queen. I knew of no other.”
Satisfied with his response, Lady Dinah decided it was time to change the subject.
“What do you know of the East? Why are so many Easterners crossing over the Divisidero Mountains?”
Lord Abner shrugged. “I do not know, my Queen. I saw and heard very little during my time in Cetahl. I only know that the Emperor is working to resolve the situation.”
“So you say,” she muttered in disappointment.
She was thinking of her next question when her thoughts were interrupted by an Eastern accent.
“My Queen?”
“Aye?”
“How long shall we be kept here below – in these cells?”
Lady Dinah could see the worried expression on Lord Abner’s face. She imagined being confined to the dark cell brought back memories of the dungeons of Cetahl.
“Until I am certain you are not here to cause harm, Lord Abner,” she replied.
“I can assure you, my Queen, that I mean no harm. I have longed for the day I would be returned to the West. I would not do anything to jeopardize that.” His otherwise kind voice sounded pleading and desperate.
“You have spent many years in the East, Lord Abner. Forgive me if I do not entirely trust your words just yet.”
Lord Abner gave a sad nod of acknowledgement.
“Good day, Lord Abner.”
“Good day, my Queen.”
*************
Lady Delia sat in silence. Her finger absentmindedly traced the stone wall beside her as she gazed into the darkness before her.
She had cried, screamed, pleaded, and raged when she was originally thrown into the dungeon – all to no avail. So now she sat in silence, her mind lost in a fog of numbness that had taken over once she lost all hope.
She no longer acknowledged the guards when they brought her daily food rations. She had learned they would never speak to her; they would never answer her questions. So she stopped trying. She was actually grateful when they left her alone. After being surrounded by silence for so long, their intrusion into her world – their plodding footsteps, the clatter of her dinner plate being set on the floor – was jarringly loud.
She could not say if she had been locked away in the dungeons for weeks or months or years. Could it really be years?
She would occasionally allow her thoughts to drift towards her father and Lord Milton, but never for long. Memories of the past were too painful. This was her world now.
*************
“She is King Huron’s daughter?” Lord Etan asked, echoing the very words his father had just spoken with disbelief. “She is the Princess of the West?”
Emperor Jarek nodded his head as he conjured up the image of the Western Wizard who had been locked up in the dungeons for the past few years.
“Aye. My spies have confirmed it,” he replied. “They say she went missing following an argument with her father, and that he has been trying to find her ever since.”
“So she was telling the truth ….”
The Emperor shrugged. “Perhaps. Though I still find it difficult to believe she would come here willingly. It is beyond foolish.”
“If she is anything like my wife, I am sure she has done plenty of foolish things in the heat of anger,” replied Lord Etan.
Emperor Jarek frowned. His son had begged him to reconsider the arranged marriage, but there had been too much at stake at the time. If I knew then what I know now, however ….
“If she is still angry with her father,” continued Lord Etan, “perhaps we could use that to our advantage.”
The Emperor smiled. He had been thinking the same thing. My son shall be a great Emperor one day, he thought.
“Aye. Another battle with the West shall begin soon, and her alliance would prove most useful.”
The Emperor leaned in closer to his son and lowered his voice.
“She has been in the dungeons long enough to be … impressionable. Perhaps you should get to know her a little better. Earn her trust. Learn her secrets.”
Lord Etan understood. “Aye, Father.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
A Light in the Darkness
When he awoke, he found himself in a cave, but he had no recollection of how he got there. Strangely, he did not panic. Fallon turned to the sound of snoring beside him. Gentry’s back was towards him, but there was no denying it was his friend.
How does Daria put up with all that noise?
Fallon sat up and looked around the cave. The old man who had saved him from the coyote was stirring a pot above the fire.
“Are you hungry?” the old man asked without turning towards Fallon.
“Aye, sir.”
Fallon crossed the cave and took a bowl of soup from the old man.
“Thank you, sir,” he said, trying to ignore the odd sensation he felt in the presence of the old man.
The old man nodded and poured a bowl for himself.
Fallon raised his hand to scratch his chin and was surprised to find a thin sprouting of whiskers.
“How long was I asleep?”
“Long enough.”
“Why did you bring us here?”
“Because I was supposed to.”
“Why?”
“Why do you ask so many questions?”
Fallon frowned. Gentry had not said much of the old man who had rescued him from the thieves and healed his leg, and Fallon could see why that was. It must have been painful living with this man all those weeks.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Gentry stirring. Wizards be damned, Gentry nearly has a full beard!
Unlike Fallon, Gentry did not try to engage the old man in any con
versation. “Thank you, sir,” was all he said when the old man handed him a bowl of soup.
They ate in silence for some time, and the old man disappeared into the network of tunnels leading out of the cave.
“What are we doing here?” Fallon asked Gentry.
Gentry shrugged. “The old man did not say?”
“I tried asking him, but ….”
Gentry smiled. “Aye. He only answers when he wants to – and that is not very often.”
Fallon rubbed at his whiskers. “How long have we been here? How much longer does he expect us to stay? Do you know the way out?”
Gentry stood up and stretched. “I have no idea how long we have been here, but I hope we are not here much longer. I have already spent far too much time in these caves. Unfortunately, I do not know the way out, my friend. I am afraid we are at the old man’s mercy for the time being.”
Fallon gave Gentry a curious look. “You did not explore the cave the last time you were here?”
“I tried, once my leg was strong enough. Those tunnels are quite the maze, Fallon. Most lead to dead ends. Some lead to death – or so the old man says. I do not care to die today.”
Gentry walked across the chamber and began fishing through a stack of items along the far wall. When he turned around, he was holding a colorful board and a bag of polished rocks.
“Care to play?” Gentry asked with a smile.
“Only if you are prepared to lose,” replied Fallon.
It had been some time since he had played Vin Setum. Steward Isaiah had taught him the basic strategy of the game one winter’s day in his 15th year, and by spring Fallon had mastered it. After losing one too many games to his pupil, the Steward had refused to play anymore. Fallon wondered if he still had a knack for the game.
It had taken several hours – Fallon was a bit rusty and made simple mistakes that had cost him – but eventually he prevailed as the victor. Gentry was eager to play again, and so they did. Fallon won the second game with ease, much to Gentry’s dismay.
“Would you like to play again?” teased Fallon.