by Jeff Kish
“No one wins wars,” Jem insists. “Why can’t there be peace between the two nations, anyway?”
Era shoots Ospif a coy smile. “Jem has a tough exterior, but she’s really a pacifist!”
“I’m not a pacifist,” she corrects. “Sometimes you have to fight for your beliefs, I get that, but these two sides have no cause besides hatred. I’ve experienced that firsthand often enough to know.”
“We are destined to fight,” Ospif says plainly. “Two nation states landlocked into such a small space… It is inevitable they would desire to control the other.”
“What of the lands to the south?” Era asks. “Isn’t that where the Third Kingdom originated?”
“Correct, but they supposedly had the technology to cultivate the wastelands,” Ospif enthusiastically explains. “It’s hopeless to think we could settle there.”
Era finds himself tantalized. “Exploring the unknown… that sounds exciting! What are these wastelands like? What kind of terrain is it?”
“You name it, it’s there,” Ospif answers. “Dry deserts, marshy swamplands, rocky earth, steep bluffs… I made the journey myself, once, to research a section of ruins. Traveling it was difficult enough. Cultivating the soil and surviving would be impossible.”
“What about north of here?” Jem asks. “There has to be something beyond the ocean.”
“Do you simpletons really know nothing about geography?” Ospif asks with disdain. “We can access the keys, of course, but each island is far too small to support more than a village or two. Beyond the keys lies the Blue Beltway, a strong current that runs clockwise around our good continent of Castuni. No one has ever braved the rapids and returned to tell the tale, which is why I said we were fated to quarrel, and one side will ultimately conquer the other. Frankly, it’s a surprise we’ve lasted so long as disparate nations.”
“So what then?” Era asks. “If one nation conquers the other, does that solve anything? Whether we’re two nations or one, we’re all still trapped.”
“It is a conundrum,” Ospif agrees. “Technology will hopefully develop to allow us to penetrate the Blue Beltway. Should we find land beyond its powerful currents, perhaps then we would have less reason to draw arms.”
“Sure, until they discover rich deposits of precious stones,” Jem sneers.
“Well, regardless, as it does little to help us battle the Allerians, you can imagine that the research being done to traverse the Beltway is often put on hold for the sake of developing more practical runes,” he says.
“Yeah, I can imagine,” she grumbles.
Era playfully kicks his foot against the path, creating a dusty cloud. “So, the Third Kingdom… it had the technology to bring that region to life?”
Ospif shrugs. “We know little of their society, but one can safely reason they tamed the land where the ruins now stand.”
“So my wild guess here is that the Third Kingdom also participated in these asinine wars?” Jem asks.
The Academy student rolls his eyes. “How many times must I say how little we know about them? Both Academies were burned to the ground at various points, so few ancient records exist. That is why your relic is so precious a find, though it breaks my heart that it would fall into such filthy hands as yours.”
“Hey, we gave it to your professors,” Era counters. “Now it’s in their filthy hands.”
“Yet you never mentioned you hid half of it from their eyes,” he accuses. “I have half a mind to-”
“Oh, shut up already, or I’m taking your carrot!” Jem shouts. “How much further till we part ways?”
“Is that rhetorical?” Era asks. “If not then maybe I should hold the map.”
Jem just shakes her head in annoyance, and Era wears a self-satisfied smirk. Despite everything else, he finds himself happy he’s still able to make life entertaining for Jem.
* * *
Di scurries down the hall, her bare feet sliding softly along the smooth stone. She moves quietly, not wanting the general or one of his cronies to find her sneaking into the garden. She has so far managed to keep her meetings with the queen a secret, which makes them all the more exciting. Her new friendship is one of the few things she has kept hidden from Graff’s all-seeing eyes.
The door to the garden is already cracked open, indicative that the queen is outside. Her overprotective aide, Maydri, observes the monarch through slits in the outer wall, and the queen’s royal guard loiters nearby. Di wonders why they need to keep such a close watch on the garden that is closed-off from the outside and regularly patrolled. Regardless, Maydri reluctantly acknowledges Di and pushes the door wide for her. She’s been expected.
As Di steps onto the cold, stone pathway, she realizes her feet are still bare, and she forms a coating of air to act as boots upon entering the majestic and colorful garden. She breathes in the fragrances that are quickly becoming a favorite part of her day.
Queen Saleen rises to meet her guest, having been seated on a bench near the bird bath. “Welcome, Di!” she exclaims, her arms extended.
Di stops short and bows, still trying to maintain protocol. “It’s good to see you, Your Majes-”
The queen cuts her off with a hug. “I do so miss that beautiful, long hair you once had,” Saleen comments as she releases Di.
The youthful soldier runs her hand through her shoulder-length locks. “I do as well, but…”
“Don’t you cut it regularly? Seems an awful effort, not to mention an outright waste! There isn’t a maiden in the entire kingdom who wouldn’t love to have that ability.”
Di keeps quiet, remembering the fateful night she fought with Era in the depths of the barracks. That heart-wrenching skirmish made it clear she could never escape this fate, and that evening ended with her shredding the locks so characteristic of that spoiled child from Canterin. As much as she longs to do so, allowing her hair to grow back would be a daily reminder of an ideal to which she can never return.
Her contemplations fail to go unnoticed by the queen. “What is it, Di?”
“Nothing,” she says as she plays with the length. “It’s just that… Well, I wish my hair was more like Her Grace’s is all.”
“Stop being so formal, Di,” she insists.
“Yes, ma’am. Saleen,” she corrects. “I’m sorry! It’s just so ingrained in me. The general may as well have commanded me to treat you formally, though you certainly deserve my respect.”
“Don’t say that, now,” she warns. “I’m a woman, just like you.”
“No, you’re not. You’re the queen.”
Saleen waves off the comment as she heads further into the garden. “No, I’m Saleen, the daughter of a serf who tripped into becoming a queen. It could have happened to anyone.”
Di energetically follows. “I’d love to hear the story, if you would tell it.”
Saleen stops and plucks an orchid. “My story isn’t worth hearing, but I shall entertain you if you’re willing.” After taking in the sweet scent of her flower, her eyes seem to peer into the distant past. “As I mentioned, my childhood was spent on the villa of a lord in Ashen. My father was a common peasant who worked the fields of our baron, and my mother…” She sadly adds, “You see, my mother died in childbirth, and I narrowly survived myself. I came down with an infection that should have claimed my life. Though I recovered, my body… it has never been at full strength. The disease that claimed my mother also claimed most of me, in a sense.”
Di leans forward, her interest piqued as the queen continues, “So my father worked tirelessly, providing our lord with many additional hours of labor each week so as to earn access to his personal physician. In truth, that doctor barely provided anything for me, but what could he do? My body was ruined in infancy, and yet my father continued to pay for his services. He would occasionally come up with new treatments to try, but nothing has ever worked. Even now in the care of royal physicians, I am simply as I am. There is nothing to be done.”
“I had no
idea,” Di says. “What exactly is wrong with you?”
“My muscles never fully developed. My blood is thin. I have dizzy spells,” she lists. “When I come down with an illness, it takes weeks to recover my strength. If you ask me, it is just a matter of time before one claims my life.”
Di’s eyes widen. “It’s that bad?”
“It is even worse. It… It seems I cannot bear children,” she says, choking back a tear. “It is not a well-kept secret, either. The subjects all speculate as to when my husband will choose a new wife to replace me.”
“Replace you!?”
“The Haran family has been in power for five generations,” she says. “I cannot provide an heir, and the Harans must remain in power. I have failed in my duties as a queen.”
“But what about the king? Does he want to get rid of you?”
Saleen blushes. “Vinall loves me, Di. He truly does. He’s… He’s given ample time for me to produce. More than ample time, even, but he’s placed himself in great danger with his standing among the barons. If he waits much longer, his hand will be forced. He’ll either select another queen, or he will have to choose a successor from among his kin.”
She cocks her head. “What’s so bad about that?”
“Well, the designated successor will eventually become a threat to my husband. After all, it is one thing to await the death of your father to take the crown, but awaiting the death of a distant relative… that would prompt impatience. Those loyal to the successor may call for Vinall to step down to allow the new family line to reign, an action he would never take.”
Di puffs her cheeks. “If he really loves you, he’ll just give up being king. He shouldn’t choose the crown over you!”
“You’re quite the romantic,” the queen says with a soft smile. “Unfortunately, far more is at stake than our love. Instability in the monarchy could produce a civil war as various households vie for power with the successor.” With confidence, she adds, “Vinall would wait for me. He has told me as such, and I believe him. But his decision must not selfishly ignore the stability of our nation.”
Di observes the queen intently as she finishes her explanation. “You really love him.”
“I do, Di,” she says, the tears again welling. “And I love Valvoren. She might as well be our child, and I would gladly sacrifice of myself to see her thrive.”
“How did you meet the king?”
“My village of Ashen lies on the southern side of the Crells, to the northwest of the capital. Because of its location, we never saw the devastation the west experienced when Alleria invaded. After Vinall signed the treaty, he knew a speedy recovery was crucial to enforcing the agreement, so he visited the barons and lords in the eastern lands to seek whatever aid they could muster.”
“And then he saw you, the beautiful daughter of the baron’s peasant worker, and he fell in love at first sight?” Di shrieks, barely containing herself. “How romantic!”
Saleen frowns. “If only that were the case. My baron’s doctor was participating in the meeting with Vinall, and my father burst in because I was ill. When the doctor refused to heed his pleas, Vinall showed compassion and insisted he help. Rather than simply excuse the doctor, he came with him so they could continue their discussion.”
“And that’s when he fell in love with you at first sight?”
The queen turns squeamish. “No, that’s when I lost my lunch all over his royal garb.”
Di laughs out loud, only to realize her friend isn’t smiling. “Wait… that’s really what happened?”
“It was awful, Di!” she groans. “I was already ill, I was a nervous wreck that my father was interrupting the meeting with the king, and then he was suddenly standing before me! It was all too much for me to handle.”
“So when did he fall in love with you?” Di asks, still wanting to get to the point.
“As if I could answer that question,” she smiles. “The baron was furious with my father and expelled him from his land on the spot. Servants rushed to clean and pamper the king. The doctor practically spit in my face! And yet, amidst the chaos, Vinall settled everyone down, reached his hand out, and offered me a formal pardon. He demanded the baron and doctor extend their grace as well.”
“And then?”
“The next day, he asked that my father and I accompany him back to the capital, where I would see his royal physicians. We got along quite well as we traveled. After I had been under the care of his doctors for a week, he proposed to me out of the blue! My father and I became residents at the palace, and we were married within months. And… that’s my story.”
“But what about you?” Di asks, a smile again on her face. “I can tell you love him. When did that happen for you?”
Now blushing, Saleen admits, “While he was still wearing my lunch, I’m afraid! The moment he took command of that room, silencing the villains in my life… he was my savior, come to rescue me as if from a children’s tale. It was magical.” As her guest delights in the story, she waves her hand in the air and says, “That’s enough about me. I want to know where my new friend has been. You went after the guild leader, correct?”
Di’s attitude sours as the conversation turns to military affairs. “Yeah, how do you know about that?”
“I am kept apprised of the affairs of the state,” she explains. “Angal has long been a tenuous ally, but I would never have expected outright treason. Through the guild, he has served the common subjects of our nation, even feeding the hungry and creating jobs for the unemployed. Though difficult to work with, he always appeared to possess noble intentions.”
“The guy is slippery,” Di says. “The guild operations we raided in Maaman and Hensi were all but abandoned. We found some grunts to question, but I’m sure they know nothing.” She stomps the walkway in frustration, making a loud slam that echoes off the palace walls. “All that work for nothing.”
Saleen’s eyes fall to Di’s feet. “What in the… How did you make that sound with your bare foot?”
Delighted, Di lifts a foot and shakes it. “Looks like my feet are bare, right? I’m actually wearing air shoes!” She squats down and runs her finger along the edge, showcasing the narrow gap that exists where the air is hardened. “The general suggested I walk around like this to strengthen my abilities to shape with my feet. Plus, if I’m not wearing boots, I can do this!” she exclaims as she jumps vertically, landing in the air as if on an invisible platform.
The queen is impressed. “Well, it seems the general finally found a command that isn’t entirely abhorrent.”
“Well, it wasn’t a command,” Di explains as she hops back to the ground. “Just a suggestion to make me a nimbler combatant.”
Saleen instantly takes offense. “Di! You’re taking suggestions from that monster? I thought you intended to resist him!”
“H-Hey, I am,” she argues. “It was a good suggestion, is all. He’ll be sending me to fight other runics whether I train or not. I want to be ready.”
Saleen deeply studies her before relenting. “Be wary of him, Di. He may have Valvoren’s best interests in mind, but, among my husband’s advisors, he is the last of a vengeful breed. The former king was the same way. To them, slaughtering the Allerians is the only path to sustained peace.”
“I know, I know,” she says, “but do you really think politics and negotiation will work?”
“They simply must, Di!” the queen exclaims with passion. “The Allerians are surely weary of war as well. It is the only way for both sides to preserve precious blood.”
Di isn’t so sure. “I mean, I want to believe peace is possible, but, if an ally like Rohe will strike down our own soldiers in a whimsical power grab, it seems all the less likely our enemy will abide by a truce.”
“This is why we must secure the other runics,” Saleen admits with a grimace. “There must be strength behind a desire for peace. Weakness will be exploited by evil men. We are relying on you and your kin to be our strength, Di.”
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Doubt still plagues the short warrior. “I just… I don’t know if it can be that simple.”
The aide beckons to the queen, indicating their time has expired. Regretfully, Saleen places her slender hand on Di’s shoulder and says, “If I were to force my views onto you, I would be no different from the general. You must decide for yourself what will preserve our peace… or if it is worth keeping at all.” She gently runs her fingers through Di’s hair and comments, “Do consider growing it back out? You look too much like a soldier with this short hair. It just doesn’t fit.”
Di watches her friend depart, longing to clear her head after such a heavy discussion. She clacks her feet against the stone path and catches a glimpse of the cloudless, blue sky above. With a mischievous spirit, she vaults herself into a sprint that elevates her with each step, opting to return to the barracks by way of the rooftop entrance.
Chapter 11
Era peers out from a patch of woods planted within sight of Stayltin, the purported hometown of Corpit Luk. The sliver of moon is beginning to set, outpacing the sun that is becoming ever more smothered by the dense wisps of gray clouds stretching high above the flat terrain. “Gonna be a dark night,” Era comments. “I don’t know, Jem. Maybe we should wait until morning. I don’t want you in a strange city after dark.”
“The sun is still high, and we’ve already been hiking for three days,” Jem argues. “We would have arrived here earlier if not for this guy.”
“Well, pardon me for not having the fortitude of an ox,” Ospif gripes. “I’m just grateful you didn’t have a whip, the way you were driving us.”
“Look, I want to get this over with,” Jem continues, her focus set on Era, “and I know you want to as well. So let’s finish this. I’ll go in, do my best Allerian accent, and find what I can about this infamous Luk character. He may even be willing to meet with both of us, with any…” She pauses before finishing, “fortune.”
Era can’t help a laugh. “Good luck finding Luk!”
“His name is likely pronounced “lyook”, with a hard vowel,” Jem points out. “Allerian dialect, remember?”