He slashed the open air with the blade. Enchanted weapons were granted by the sorcerers of Ikrith, and only to the royal house; lords, and ladies of the kingdom. It was a gift of their magic; a way to bind a contract of service to the house. In times of need, the sorcerers would come to their aid against any enemy until Talia trapped them.
“Did your father give it to you?” Cedric asked as he, Alara, and Declan circled around Landon.
His eyes seemed to change at a moment’s notice. He switched from a caring, curious, lost prince to a deviant in a matter of seconds. “I should have listened,” he said, looking at the blade. He held it to his side, so the ruby glinted in the sunlight as he moved slowly within the circle.
“What are you doing?” Scarlett couldn’t understand. She stood outside of the circle, a clear look of shock on her face. She held the blade at her side, unsure of what she should be doing. Should she help the three circled around the prince or defend him? He was supposed to be an uneducated child, left out of having a normal upbringing. “This is madness! Stop!” she yelled at them, but no one paid her any attention.
“I should have listened. Mother warned me. She told me you would know the minute you saw this,” he said, looking at the hilt of his weapon. “I didn’t expect Alara to know where it came from. I suppose I should have known you would have seen it, Brother. She kept it hung in the throne room, alongside Father’s.”
Declan looked down at the blade he carried. His father’s still hung in the throne room, where Talia had full access to it— not that it would work for her.
Declan was surprised she had a blade forged at all. He remembered the day the black sword showed up on the wall next to his father’s, where Alara’s had once been. He’d asked her about it, and his father shrugged him off, saying it was symbolic for a queen to have a blade. Declan was the one who hung Alara’s in her room after finding it in a storage cupboard.
Now he looked at Talia’s blade in his brother’s hand; a blade not forged for a queen consort, but for the prince. “You weren’t hiding in the ruins of the castle when we arrived. You left the house after Talia left. That’s how you knew she was heading back to the palace. She killed the sisters, and you baited us to the castle.” He glanced back at Alara and Cedric.
Scarlett moved into place beside Declan as he spoke. Her weapon also pointed at Landon.
“So, if I’d not fallen off my horse…” Alara swallowed hard.
“You were told to kill her?” Cedric asked as Declan tried to come to terms with his brother’s betrayal.
“No, I wasn’t going to kill her. Not yet.” Landon laughed. His eyes relaxed, the line of his mouth straight, and he considered Alara. “Mother wanted to do that herself. I was just supposed to get Declan back to the palace to serve at my side. I am the new king, after all.”
“No,” Alara yelled. “Declan is king. He is my son.”
“Yes, but the country still believes your son was the one kidnapped. Me.” He pointed the finger of his free hand to himself. “Declan was never raised to be the king. I was. Father thought he was the only one who knew where I was. Ludicrous. Why would my mother have your son kidnapped and let him live? No, she needed her own son taken.” He let the point of his blade fall into the ground at his side. “When I finally got word that Father was about to die, I took care of the sisters so they couldn’t tell you the truth when you arrived. We hadn’t counted on them giving you their life source and magic, which just means you get to live, but far away from the palace. Unless you want your precious son harmed.”
“What do you mean?” Declan asked his brother.
“It’s easy, really. You’ll return to the palace to confirm I am alive and well; Alara’s long-lost son, the first born and the heir. Once the people see our faces side by side, they won’t have any choice but to recognize me for who I am.”
“A prick?” Scarlett asked, finally understanding what happened.
“The king.” Landon looked at her with needy eyes. “You know, you shouldn’t hide under that cloak. Red is not your color.” He winked at her and turned back to Alara. “You get to stay far away from Anaphias, and in exchange, Declan won’t be harmed. He’ll even get to live freely within the palace walls, of course.” Landon gave a little chuckle.
“What makes you think he’ll agree to go anywhere with you?” Cedric asked.
“Oh, come now. We already know you’re nothing more than an escort for the queen. You have no real fighting ability, so I wouldn’t presume to think you could stop me. Or them.” He pointed to the men who’d been chasing them earlier. “They’re just gonna hold the three of you down while Declan and I make our leave.”
“He’s not going anywhere with you,” Alara growled.
“Oh, come now, Majesty. That’s no way for a queen to speak to a king.” He pointed his blade at her, and the steel pulsed red.
She lifted her’s from her side. Flame burst from the metal, hitting him in the chest. He landed on the ground at her feet, his cloak and shirt scorched by the fire, but Landon was not injured.
“As I said, Declan is not going with you.”
Declan grabbed her by her shoulder, pulling her toward the horses.
Landon tried to shout to the men racing towards them to hurry, but he couldn’t catch his breath. Heat seared his lungs with each labored lungful he took.
His hands scrambled to the tie at his collar that kept his cloak on. He relieved himself of the fabric and ripped the shirt free of his neck and chest. There were no marks, yet he still breathed in fire. Alara must have unknowingly used fae power that now lay deep in her veins.
By the time he could breathe, his brother was long gone. His men only reached him as he pulled himself to his feet.
“Bring me a horse. Now!” he barked.
ALARA and Declan didn’t speak during their journey to Edela. Declan spent the time brooding over the events occurring at the hands of his brother. He’d spent a lifetime looking for Landon; countless days blaming himself because he had not yet been found and brought back. All the while, his brother was visited by not just one, but both of his parents— one trying to protect him against the other’s influence; the other moving heaven and hell, like chess pieces on a board, to make him a king.
“So, what’s the plan? Surely one of you has an idea of what we’re doing now?” Scarlett spent the first half of the journey trying to goad them into speaking. Not only had they not spoken to each other, they hadn’t spoken at all.
She’d finally given up when they passed the line of trees into Edela. The atmosphere of the territory was nothing like any other part of the kingdom. Outcroppings stood only a few feet from each other. The land had all been tilled to make room for roads and merchant tents. Heavy foot traffic took care of the rest. Stones and dirt coated the ground in dark shades of grey and brown, officially making Edela the least favorite place to visit in the whole of Anaphias.
Edela was in the middle of the kingdom, connected to Vlora, Anaphias, and Grotia. Other small districts existed within each territory but were hardly mentioned.
Edela was essential, not only because it bordered all the provinces, but because it served as the industrial center of the entire kingdom. People traveled the hazardous mountain north of Vlora from Omath if it meant getting something of value from Edela.
The kingdom to lose favor with the sorcerers during the reign of Tomas’ parents. They had been kept as servants to wealthy families, brokered for services; sold off as slaves and healers.
The code the sorcerers lived with was sacred to them. They were taught at a young age to be the protectors of man. They lived solely to work side by side with the people of the kingdom. Tomas’ father allowed his people to cross the line between partnership and ownership. Magic was not a tool to fight with, and it wasn’t used for hate or revenge.
Talia was once a young sorceress. When she questioned their existence to follow, instead of leading, she was cast aside.
No sorcerer or sorceress cou
ld be allowed to remain with the narrow-minded thoughts she had. She was branded as a witch and banished from Ikrith and the Kingdom of Anaphias, never to return.
When the sorcerers fought back by fleeing to the island of Ikrith and refusing to work for or aid the people, it caused chaos. The people needed to find a way to manufacture remedies for healing; needed a way to strengthen armor without the aid of an incantation. Edela seemed the most likely of places to do that. Prominent outcroppings were built to house all the supplies. They produced and stored everything they could think of, just in case war came and the magic users of the kingdom wouldn’t help.
Tomas and Alara changed everything with the Concessions. In truth, the Concessions were a treaty signed by the eldest sorcerer of Ikrith and Queen of the Fae, Thea Tanil of Idrisi.
In exchange for their help during times of peril, the people agreed they would not demand the aid of the magic folk for personal usage. Iren forged the royal blades in the fires of Ikrith, and Thea enchanted them with the magic of her people.
Declan looked upon the town with mirth. To think they had come from a peaceful and serene countryside to the bustling village to get away from the very men crowding the streets of Edela.
They all dismounted their horses. Walking them through by their reins would help conceal them more from the crowds. Declan turned to Alara and pulled the hood of her cloak up, tucking her fire-red locks underneath and out of sight. Scarlett was right. No one in the land had hair like his mother.
Declan drew his own hood up as well. He noticed Cedric had the hindsight to turn his cloak inside out, so he no longer revealed the lions head with a crown signifying his use of the king’s guard uniform. At a glance, it was an ugly blue cloak, smudged with dirt and blood.
“We should split up. Even with Alara’s hair covered, it’ll be hard not to notice her with those rags on. I’ll take the queen to get new clothes. You two go find some provisions,” Scarlett barked.
Since none of the others felt inclined to argue, they went on their way. Scarlett took Alara into a large building full of merchants’ tables in front of tall walls. Tables lined the middle of the building, turning an ample space into a long hallway. Behind the walls stood rows upon rows of shelves. Everything a person could think of was stored inside the buildings. This one was full of clothes, furniture, and other household items.
Alara kept her eyes down at the tables, making sure not to look anyone in the face. If her hair were a dead giveaway, then her eyes would be just as noticeable. Not that there were not others born with green eyes, but none she knew of had ever been born with the emerald green she and Declan shared.
Looking at the tables wasn’t a hard feat either. Alara marveled at each and every table they passed. When Scarlett suddenly stopped in front of her, she bumped the girl from behind.
“Sorry,” she whispered into the girl’s ear.
“No worries. Here, look at these,” she said, pointing to some rather plain dresses. They were dull in color and perfect for keeping a low profile.
Alara scrutinized over the clothes before she looked at the outfit Scarlett had on. She wasn’t overly clothed in hoop skirts and lace. Scarlett wore slim black pants, a black shirt, and a black leather vest with her red boots and cloak, so why did she have to entertain the idea of wearing any kind of dress?
She moved past Scarlett to the next table. Dark green trousers and an eggshell colored shirt rested beside a brown cloak, an outfit she could walk around in without being noticed. Her fingers played with the fabric at the hem of the shirt.
Scarlett scowled over Alara’s shoulder. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
She whipped her head around, losing her hood for a moment, then scrambled to pull it back over her hair. “Yes, it’s what I want. I don’t see anything compromising to your own attire here. You are a lady as well, are you not?”
Scarlett lowered her voice, noticing the woman behind the table watching them intently. “Yes, milady, but I am not a …”
“Don’t say it.” She smiled at the old woman, who returned a toothless grin. “Out here, I’m not either. I can’t be.”
“If that’s to your liking, madam, I can wrap it for you.” The old woman spoke with hoarseness in her voice Alara recognized as a long life of inhaling the fumes from the coal mine.
Alara observed the woman. “Um, no, that won’t be necessary.” She released her hold on the fabric and turned from the table, her back to the woman. She leaned into the girl next to her, “How are we to pay for these?”
“Don’t worry. I brought some provisions of my own,” she shook the inside pocket of her cloak, which jingled with the sound of coins.
“Madam, maybe this will be more to your liking.” Alara turned to face the woman, who pulled a garment from underneath her table. “I think it ought to be your size. You could change back here if you’d like.” She pointed to the screen set up as a dressing area.
Alara took the clothes and made her way to the screen. She had been handed a pair of tight black leggings and a long hunter green shirt, which covered all the way past her bottom. A tan belt hung loosely at her hips.
The woman then handed her a pair of black boots with a low heel. They would prove more comfortable to walk across rough terrain than the dress shoes she’d worn for days.
“Thank you.” Alara looked at the woman when she moved back around the screen.
“Madam, your hood,” the old woman pointed out.
Alara quickly spun the new black cloak around herself, sliding the hood into place. She tucked her hair inside and covered her shoulders with the heavy black fabric, fastening the toggle at her throat.
Scarlett leaned over the table to say something to the woman, but the woman waved her away.
She placed a finger against her lips and gave Alara a wink. “Shh. It’s on me.” The girls gave their thanks and huddled together as they left the building, retracing their steps to find their way back to the horses.
“Okay, so he was right about the hair,” Scarlett said.
They both giggled while retrieving the mare and gelding from a nearby post. Both of the women stopped short as a commotion picked up in the middle of the community.
They heard the sound of clanking metal and a girl shouting. Scarlett and Alara shared a look before running in the direction of the noise and leaving the animals behind.
What they found was an assault. A girl— no more than sixteen— smacked Declan on his back as he tried to walk away. She shouted obscenities at him while he tried to get her to quiet down.
Cedric and a boy, roughly older than the girl, followed behind. Both of them were wide-mouthed with laughter.
The sight was so humorous, the people around shook their heads with either a smile or disgust. However, no bells of alarm seemed to be raised. Declan still wore the hood of his cloak and tried to keep his face bent down, away from the crowd. To them, it must have looked like a lovers’ quarrel.
Alara placed a hand on Scarlett’s arm to hold her back. Declan led the crazed girl away from the throng of the village. Stepping behind the building, they soon heard the screams grow louder and knew Declan had the right idea.
The girl was as tall as Declan; almost six feet. Her black hair was darker than his, in a thick braid down to her knees. Their appearances were so similar they could have been mistaken for family. Her amber eyes were wide and glowering at the prince with every swat she landed on him.
“You tell me where he is… right now!” she yelled at him.
Declan protected his head with his hands and kept pushing forward. When they reached the back of the building by the girls, he turned and grabbed his attacker by the wrists.
“Let me go!” Her eyes grew wider with surprise, and she bucked against his hold.
“No. Not until you stop hitting me.” He peeked back at Alara and Scarlett. They’d joined Cedric and the boy, who was currently in hysterics. “A little help here.” He looked to Alara pleadingly.
“W
hat makes you think I can help?” she asked him, trying to hold in her laughter.
“Well,” Declan began, but the girl went still.
The girl noticed Alara. “Your Majesty?”
“That’s what,” Declan pointed out, and he flung the girl’s hands away from him, sidestepping her so she could walk to his mother.
“Queen Alara, I beseech thee. My father has been missing for twenty years, and now my healer has gone missing not two days ago. Can you help?” The girl bowed and stayed until Alara took her hand to pull her to her full height.
“Please. You’ll draw too much attention,” she said to the girl. She glared at Cedric, who had managed to catch his breath from laughing so hard. “I don’t know how I can help.”
The girl’s eyes moved toward Declan. “Then you… you need to get your mother to release them. You must!” she yelled at him.
“My mother? You mean she’s taken these people? How can you be so sure?” He rubbed the back of his head, where a few of her blows landed.
“Her men came and threw Alfaro in a royal carriage. I haven’t seen him since. That was two days ago. Without him, my sister will die.” She was on the verge of tears.
The boy standing with Cedric moved to her side and draped an arm around her bare shoulders.
“Can we start with who you are?” Declan asked.
“Jazia,” the girl said as if they should have already known.
“As in the daughter of Lord Asil?” Declan asked. Jazia raised her eyebrows at him and nodded. Declan turned to Alara. “Grotia.”
“What would Talia want with a healer?” Cedric asked the group.
“Some people say the witch is ill. Or that she’s using them to stay young. Have you not noticed her age at all?” Scarlett answered.
“Witch?” Declan spun to look at Scarlett.
“Yes, they believe she is a witch.” Scarlett’s words hesitated at the word this time, remembering he once thought himself Talia’s son.
“She is!” Alara said, moving to her mare. She placed her hand between the animal’s eyes and rubbed down to its snout. Queenie snorted and sneezed at Alara’s touch, and she smiled. “What I don’t get”— she continued moving to the mare’s backside, running her hand through her mane—"what does she need with healers when she has enough power to heal even herself? No, that’s not it. We need to find out.”
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