by RM Wark
When the rain finally ceased to fall, Lord Conrad dispatched his scouts to stake out a path between the army’s campsite and Yukon. They had just returned with grim reports of flooded riverbanks ahead. The Eastern troops had no choice but to stay put and wait for the waters to recede.
*************
Fallon heard a cry from beyond the trees.
Gentry?
He was about to make his way towards the sound when Gentry came running towards him.
“Quickly, Fallon. We must go!” Gentry picked up his large leather bag and started running towards the dense vegetation on the opposite side of the campsite.
With no opportunity to ask questions, Fallon was forced to follow. Fallon was not as swift on his feet as his friend, however, and he quickly lost sight of Gentry. Stopping short, Fallon scanned the vegetation for any indication of his friend.
“Gentry?” he called out in as loud of a voice as he dared.
A few moments later, Gentry’s face appeared from behind a tree in the distance.
“Hurry, Fallon! Hurry!”
Such a scene was repeated many times over the next hour, and Fallon could not help but recall his dream. He wished it had not been interrupted – perhaps then he would better understand what was in store for the future.
Fallon stumbled and fell to the ground. Wizards be damned!
He was brushing off the dirt and leaves when Gentry reappeared. His friend immediately started to chuckle.
“It is not funny, Gentry,” Fallon scowled.
“Aye. It is, my friend. You missed a spot of dirt on your nose,” he said with a smile.
Fallon immediately started wiping his nose with his thumb.
“We must keep moving, my friend. But perhaps we can slow down a bit.”
“Why are we running?” Fallon asked, even though he suspected he knew the answer.
“They were in the forest,” Gentry replied. “They nearly found our campsite.”
Fallon did not need Gentry to explain who “they” were.
“They were traveling on horseback. Had we stayed on the trail, they would have found us for certain,” Gentry said. He paused as he looked around at the trees and shrubs surrounding them. “It shall be difficult for him to follow us on horseback through this.”
“Him? Do you not mean ‘them’?” Fallon asked.
Gentry did not answer Fallon’s question. “We should continue east, my friend. Let us go.”
*************
There was still no word from Lord Spencer, and Lady Delia was growing increasingly anxious with each passing day.
The Eastern army shall be here soon, she thought.
The storm had delayed the army’s approach for more than a week, but the latest reports were that they would likely arrive at the walls of Yukon within the next day or two.
There was a timid knock at the door.
“My Queen?” asked Philipe, opening the door slightly to reveal his face.
“Aye, Philipe?”
“Lady Iris would like a word with you.”
“Aye. Send her in, please.”
Lady Delia watched as the wizard exchanged pleasantries with Philipe and entered the study.
“Please tell me you bear good tidings,” said Lady Delia with a desperate hopefulness.
But Lady Iris shook her head. “I am sorry, my Queen. I flew as far as I dared in a day. I made it past Norman, but I saw no sign of my husband or the other wizards. Not on the North Road, nor the South Road.”
“What is taking them so long?” Lady Delia wondered aloud, her voice betraying her frustration.
“I do not know, my Queen,” Lady Iris replied, worried. “I must admit I am a bit concerned for the well-being of my husband. I should like to take a longer journey … though we would need to explain my extended absence.”
Lady Delia nodded as she considered Lady Iris’s words. She had already faced repeated questions from several wizards regarding the whereabouts of Lord Spencer. She would typically reply that she had asked Lord Spencer to inform the other Western Wizards still en route to Mt. Xavier of the recent developments, but she knew that explanation had not quite satisfied their curiosity. Lord Spencer had been gone far too long.
“Tell them the truth,” replied Lady Delia at last. “Tell them that we are worried about your husband – that we expected him back long ago – and that you are going to search for him.”
Lady Iris seemed startled, yet relieved, by Lady Delia’s response. “Aye, my Queen.”
“But tell them nothing else.”
Lady Iris bowed. “Aye, my Queen.”
*************
The ranger returned to his campsite with a rabbit in hand and looked around for the Komanite guard. “Len?”
No one answered. He noticed Len’s horse was still tied to a tree. He cannot have gone far. The ranger began to stoke the fire, eager for the rabbit meal that had been more difficult to come by than he had anticipated.
There was still no sign of Len by the time he finished cooking the rabbit and eating his portion. Annoyed, the ranger quickly swallowed down the remaining scraps of rabbit meat he had set aside for the guard. He did not deserve the meat anyway. Let him chew on stale bread instead.
The ranger busied himself packing up the campsite. “Wizards be damned! Where is that fool?” the ranger grumbled aloud when he finished. With much contempt, he packed up Len’s items as well. In doing so, the ranger noticed that Len had taken his bow with him. Perhaps he went off to hunt. That fool is probably lost somewhere in this forest, he thought, shaking his head.
As tempted as he was to leave the guard behind, the ranger knew he would need help in order to capture both Reedites. He searched for the Komanite guard for more than an hour before coming across the Reedites’ old campsite. A short while later, he discovered Len’s body.
He was filled with rage – rage that Len had allowed himself to be killed, and rage that he had wasted so much valuable time searching for the guard.
“I shall be better off without you, fool,” he said, spitting upon the corpse.
After returning to his campsite, the ranger untied Len’s horse from the tree and set the beast free. He climbed aboard his own horse and headed back towards the clearing that had once served as the Reedites’ campsite. It was obvious the Reedites had been there recently, but there was no sign of them heading farther down the trail.
With a sigh, he untied his horse. “Go find your friend,” he said, slapping the beast on the backside. “You shall not be of any help to me if they have gone off trail.”
The horse neighed and trotted off. The ranger began pushing his way through the dense vegetation, his eyes focused on the slightest indication that other men had traveled the same way.
CHAPTER TEN
Dangerous Decisions
Steward Isaiah read the letter time and time again, trying to reconcile its contents with his own grasp of the village’s history.
“How can this be?” he wondered in disbelief.
He was grateful that he had adjourned the Council of Elders, in spite of their protests. He would not have been prepared to discuss Lady Dinah’s letter with them today. He was not certain he would ever be prepared to discuss her letter.
His cane in hand, Steward Isaiah slowly emerged from his study in the Council Chambers. He was surprised to see Zeke still sitting against the wall.
“Zeke, I thought I told you to return home. The ten o’clock bells shall toll soon.” He knew Zeke was well aware of Beatrice’s rule of being home by that time, but the boy seemed unfazed.
“Did she say anything … about Fallon?” he asked apprehensively. “About his mark?”
The question caught Steward Isaiah by surprise. He could not recall telling Zeke about the Council’s initial concern over Fallon’s mark.
“What do you know about that?” Steward Isaiah asked, his eyebrow raised.
The boy lowered his head, a guilty expression upon his face. “I am sorry, Steward
. I was only curious about my brother, about why he had left.”
“And?” the Steward prompted.
“I tried asking you, but ….”
The Steward sighed. He vaguely recalled those conversations – conversations he admittedly tried to avoid. It was too soon. I was still grieving the loss of Fallon.
“The Elders told me, sir.”
Steward Isaiah smiled. He knew firsthand how charming Zeke could be; he imagined it had been quite easy for the boy to get the answers he so desperately wanted.
“Please do not be mad at them,” Zeke pleaded.
“I am not mad at them, son,” Steward Isaiah assured Zeke. “I am only sorry that you did not hear about this from me.”
Zeke nodded. “So did she say anything?”
“Not specifically about Fallon, no,” the Steward replied. “But Lady Dinah has given me much to ponder.”
“What is it you have to ponder?” Zeke asked.
Steward Isaiah frowned. “The Komanites.”
*************
The note delivered by raven that morning had been simple enough:
Surrender and live.
Fight and die.
I shall give you a day to decide.
Lord Conrad, General
Lady Delia held it in her hand for a long while, reading and rereading the lines. Lord Conrad. The name did not sound familiar at all, which actually brought relief to the Queen.
The Emperor did me a favor by keeping me confined. I know not of other Eastern Wizards, and – hopefully – they know not of me.
She still had not decided what she would say about the decades she went missing from Mt. Xavier. She did not know if she would ever confess to being held captive in the East. There was no reason not to tell, except that she was pregnant.
She knew they would never trust a Western Queen who had been impregnated by an Eastern Wizard. She would lose her Queenship. She would lose Mt. Xavier. And she would lose her child – the child she had not wanted, but the child who had lived anyway.
It is meant to be, she thought, resting her hands on the slight swell of her belly. I must see to it that this child lives.
Lady Delia sighed and focused her thoughts once again on the note.
It had been several days since Lady Iris had left in search of her husband, Lord Spencer, but as of yet there had been no word from either of the wizards. So much of Lady Delia’s strategy was dependent upon the success of Lord Spencer’s quest, and the lack of word from the shape-shifting wizards left the Queen in a tenuous situation.
I have no choice but to stall.
She dipped her quill in the ink bottle and scribbled out a note. She read it over one last time before rolling it up and affixing her seal.
“Philipe?”
The young man stepped into her father’s study. “Aye, my Queen?”
“Please tie this to the Eastern raven and send the bird back to its camp.”
“Aye, my Queen.”
Later that evening, Lady Delia stood before the Western Wizards in the main dining hall.
“The Eastern Wizards are gathered at the southern wall of Yukon. Their General, Lord Conrad, has given us a single day to decide whether or not to surrender.”
“Have you a decision then?” asked Lady Tessa.
Lady Delia shook her head. “The note neglected to provide any details on the conditions of surrender. I refuse to make such an important decision without fully understanding the implications of that decision.”
None of the wizards spoke, but Lady Delia noticed several heads nodding in agreement.
“Therefore, I have decided to meet with Lord Conrad in person to hear his terms. I should like Lord Harlan and Lord Nigel to accompany me.”
The two wizards exchanged quick glances and quickly agreed.
“Good. I have already sent a note to the General. He shall be expecting us soon. We must leave first thing tomorrow.”
*************
Selma brushed her long blond hair, watching her reflection in the mirror. Her attempts to find out what happened to her brother had thus far failed, but she remained determined.
I must know. I must know how. I must know why, or I shall never be at peace.
She tapped the green powder the peddler had given her and began tracing the lids of her eyes. Satisfied with the result, she reached for the bottle of perfume. It had been a rather expensive purchase – such luxury items were a rarity in the East – but she knew it was worth it.
I must succeed in seducing Lord Cephas.
She studied the mirror once more. Oren would not approve, she thought. “He does not need to know,” she muttered aloud. But he knows many things.
She chose to ignore that final thought as she left her bedchamber.
*************
She stood atop the wall, surveying the Eastern army below. The southern wall now stood nearly forty feet high – an impressive accomplishment given the short amount of time the people of Yukon had to prepare against the approaching army. The height also provided Lady Delia with a greater appreciation of the vastness of the army. The camp stretched for as far as the eye could see … a virtual sea of red and black, the Emperor’s colors.
Although she could not ignore the growing pit in her stomach, her voice remained surprising calm. “Tell them to open the door. It is time for us to meet with Lord Conrad,” she said.
“Aye, my Queen,” replied Lord Nigel.
It took three men to push open the heavy wooden door, the only link between the Town of Yukon and the lands immediately to its south. As the door opened, several archers readied themselves at various outlooks along the wall, but Lady Delia refused to allow any fighters to accompany the wizards.
“Put down your weapons. We have come to talk, not fight.”
Lady Delia was the first to step through the door, followed by Lord Harlan and Lord Nigel. Lady Delia felt vulnerable and exposed – barely one hundred yards separated them from the army’s camp – but she continued walking in spite of her fear.
A crowd of Eastern soldiers began to gather as the wizards approached the first camp, but their swords remained by their sides. Lady Delia stopped short of the campsite.
“Lord Conrad. We have come to discuss your terms,” she shouted.
The gathering crowd parted and a tall soldier stepped forward. Two other soldiers followed closely behind.
Lady Delia caught her breath when the General finally came to a stop. He is a spitting image of Lord Etan!
“Lord Conrad?” she asked.
“Aye,” came the terse reply in the Eastern accent that was no longer so unusual to her ears. “And who might you be?”
“Lady Delia, Queen of the West.”
Lord Conrad’s eyebrow arched in surprise.
Does he know? Does he know about me? Lady Delia wondered apprehensively.
But if Lord Conrad knew about Lady Delia being captured and escaping from the East, he did not say. Nor did he inquire about the identities of Lord Nigel and Lord Harlan.
“Unless you have come before me to surrender, we have nothing to discuss, Queen Delia.”
“I shall not surrender if I do not know what that means for me and my people.”
“It means you shall be allowed to live, my Queen,” came the irritated reply.
He may resemble Lord Etan, but that is where the similarities end, she thought with annoyance.
“If you are unwilling to specify the Emperor’s exact terms, then it is true that we have nothing to discuss,” she snapped. She turned to leave without giving the General a chance to respond.
“Jov, read the Queen the terms of surrender.”
Lady Delia turned back around and took note of the blond solider who stepped forward, pulling out a scroll from a pocket of his coat.
Jov cleared his throat and began reading aloud:
“Being that the Western Wizards have illegally occupied our lands for countless centuries; Being that the Eastern Wizards desire to regain
control of their rightful property; Being that the Western Wizards and their allies are far outnumbered by Emperor Jarek’s mighty army and are certain to suffer greatly should this war continue; And Being that the merciful Emperor is amenable to avoiding any further loss of life – the following conditions of surrender are proposed:
“The Western Wizards shall immediately withdraw from all conflict within the territories. The Western Wizards shall relinquish their properties to the rightful Eastern Wizard owners. The Western Wizards shall also relinquish possession of their wands. Any Western Wizard caught in possession of such implements shall be put to death immediately. For these concessions, the Western Wizards shall be allowed to remain in the Western Territories, living amongst the commoners, until the natural end of their days.”
Lady Delia could feel the General’s eyes upon her as the terms were read aloud, but she would not give him the satisfaction of reacting to the words.
“Those are the terms, Queen Delia,” Lord Conrad said, crossing his arms. “Are you prepared to surrender now?”
Lady Delia stared at her foe but said nothing.
“Well?” he prompted.
“No.”
“That is unfortunate—” Lord Conrad started to stay.
“I need more time,” Lady Delia interrupted. “And I should like to discuss this with the other wizards.”
Lord Conrad shook his head and smirked. “And you dare to call yourself Queen. Are you not capable of making decisions on your own?” he teased. “Fine, discuss this with your men,” he said, waving his finger at Lord Harlan and Lord Nigel. “I shall wait here while you decide.”
“No,” the Queen said sharply. “You misunderstand me. I need more time to think upon the Emperor’s terms … time to reach my decision. A decision which I shall discuss with all the Western Wizards currently gathered at Mt. Xavier. And given that your Emperor is ‘amenable to avoiding further loss of life,’ I would imagine he would be supportive of this.”