“His Grace does not require your attention at this time,” she said through gritted teeth, in as kindly a manner as possible.
“It wiw onwy take a moment, my wady,” Bwick drawled, his speech handicapped by a tongue that was too large for his mouth. Being the king’s special aide, Bwick always seemed to think it gave him special rights.
Londenia’s thoughts raged: How do you not realize that Romarus only gave you that title because he felt sorry for you…and that’s coming from Romarus, who isn’t the sharpest knife in the set. She admonished him: “His Grace is clearly—”
Bwick had already shooed Queen Londenia to the side before she could finish her sentence. He addressed the king directly, saying, “Youw Gwace, I was wondewing if you wequiwed anything else fwom me befowe I wetiwe to bed.” King Romarus’s current nakedness and cock-in-mouth situation, had clearly not registered with the shaggy blond-haired halfwit.
The poor lad means well, she thought as she always did with Bwick, but his rudeness towards others annoyed her. Unless an order came from the boy king himself, this special aide never seemed forthcoming to obey direction from others.
“No…Brick…it’s…fine…thanks,” Romarus blurted out with his eyes still firmly fixed on Lida. The boy king had a lot of time for the simpleton.
Bwick had brown eyes that were too close together. He was unkempt and his manner irritated most people, but Romarus accepted him as he accepted everybody. The king was the only one who used the boy’s real name, Brick. It was because of the way he spoke that he became known as Bwick. Even his own mother took to calling him that.
The halfwit stood, waiting to be dismissed. “Bwick, I think His Grace would prefer to be left alone at this time. You are dismissed,” Londenia said with hands held lightly on the young man’s shoulders, ushering him to the door. Do you even know what he’s doing right now? she wondered. She was sure that Bwick was clueless as to the nature of the act transpiring in the room.
“Okay, but you should hewp His Gwace dwess and wash because he is sweating evewywhewe.”
I think he would likely hit me if I tried to dress him right now. “Yes, yes! I was just about to attend to that. Thank you for your work today. It is much appreciated as always.” Londenia forced a smile. Bwick kept trying to look back, clearly hoping for final confirmation of a dismissal from his king before the door closed behind him.
“Faster,” grunted Romarus through breathless, gritted teeth. As Londenia turned back towards him and the wenches, she saw the muscles on his thighs bulge as he straightened his legs. “Ahhhh.” He let out a moan, which turned into a sigh as his body went limp.
That must have been it, she thought. He sank further into the pillows. The blonde wench’s head slowed, then lifted. As Lida turned, Londenia saw Romarus’s seed at the corner of her mouth. In some of the kingdoms, that boy and wench could be imprisoned for spilling seed out with a woman’s body. Then again, her mouth is part of her body. Although I doubt High-King Ma’leven in First Kingdom would be so liberal with his interpretation of the Ten’s teachings. Londenia didn’t feel it necessary to concern herself with exactly where Romarus spilled his seed at this time; except to ensure he didn’t plant it properly in some random wench. As he had not yet taken a wife to produce a true first prince, it was best he did not father a bastard who might one day try to claim his throne.
The wrenches’ breasts bounced out of control as they scurried out of the bedchamber. Bitterness filled her head as the two girls closed the door behind them.
The king stood up and pulled his cotton trousers back on. Topless, he walked over to the table next to her and poured wine into a wooden cup. “That was badly needed,” he said, laughing with a slight shake to his voice.
Poor boy doesn’t know how to handle himself, she thought, smiling politely back at her king.
Grabbing one of Londenia’s breasts, the king smiled, saying, “Maybe next time you’ll let me grab your tits while Lida sucks me.”
She slapped him on the cheek. Why did I just do that? she scolded herself. “I’m sorry. I know you didn’t mean to…A queen shouldn’t strike her king.”
Looking like a scorned little boy, Romarus replied, “No, I’m sorry.” He clenched his fists and chewed on the inside of his cheek. Mixing sadness with anger was common for him.
He really doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing. She felt sorry for her young king. His lack of will repulsed her but at the same time made her want to help him even more. If he was a cruel king, she could hate him but he was just a young man learning his way in the world. He’s just a boy who wants nothing more than to get his cock into a warm hole.
“No, I’m sorry,” Londenia told him. “I’m here to guide you, not punish you. I am your counsel and…your friend.” She felt like she was talking to a child again but that thought was quickly dismissed as she remembered what had transpired just moments ago.
Romarus sat on the floor in front of her. “I don’t want to be king,” he uttered simply. His face had the blank expression she had seen earlier in court, but this time his eyes weren’t full of boredom. They were full of thought. “That moisture farmer talked about my father—”
“He should not have done that.”
“I know but it’s his fault I have to do this now.” Romarus bit on his bottom lip. “If he hadn’t run off on some fucked up—”
Londenia held a finger to Romarus’s mouth before he could speak further ill of her former king. “He was looking for his son. I am not a mother and know nothing of what it is to lose a child but surely you cannot begrudge him the chance to find—”
Romarus pushed her hand away, his chin quivering again. “He still had a son!” His eyes were misting over. All Londenia could do was hold him.
You were never meant to be king. She held him sobbing in her arms. Romarus was the second son to King Locutus. As is tradition in the Ten Kingdoms, the first son was sent away to be raised in the court of another king. In this way, the bloodline could be preserved as the royal siblings are kept in different locations. It also functioned as a way of displaying trust between kings—or in the First, Peak and Gate Kingdoms it was more akin to voluntary hostaging. Costalus, the elder of the two brothers, was sent away to be raised in Long Kingdom. Tragically, he was abducted as an infant and had not been heard of since. That was until one day when King Locutus received a message about the possible whereabouts of his firstborn.
Londenia remembered that night from nearly one year ago. “This parchment, which appears on your throne as if from nowhere, speaks of a young man who is supposedly your lost son?” she remembered shouting in astonishment at her former king in the empty, darkened throne room. “How can you believe such a random message that could have been written by anybody?”
King Locutus shook his head, explaining, “Londenia, you do not understand. The description is Costalus.” He waved the parchment at her as he stood up from his throne. “One eye of blue-sight and the other of brown,” he quoted from the message. “That is rare, and they say this boy is of nineteen years. Costalus would be of this age now.”
Her eyes locked onto his weather-beaten, battle-hardened hand that grasped the parchment. “My king, this could be any boy. The Mortal Realm is a large place,” she emphasized every word, trying to convince her old king it was folly. “He was lost over eighteen years past, he is surely—”
“Don’t you dare!” he shouted, and pointed a shaking finger at her face. “I should never have sent him away to your father in the first place. If I hadn’t, then I would still have both my sons! I am leaving at first light and I will bring back my boy.”
Looking back on that night, she remembered the madness in the eyes of King Locutus. Londenia agreed with him that it was a strange system of having the first prince raised in another land. However, if it were not for this, she wouldn’t have met King Locutus, as he was raised by her own father, King Kalon of Long Kingdom. When Locutus became king after the death of his father, he returned to Last Ki
ngdom. Years later, following the passing of Queen Vasani, he requested Londenia to serve as his new queen, and there she remained—now serving under Romarus.
Her thoughts returned to the present as Romarus, who had began to calm, stirred from her embrace. “Why did she leave me too?” he asked, referring to his mother. Dimples formed on his flustered cheeks.
“She didn’t leave through lack of love for you. She loved your father very much and still thought he lived.” Locutus’s wife had left Last Kingdom three moon-turns past. Mad with grief, in a desperate attempt to find her husband, she had never returned. Lady Brendina was the only one who believed her husband was still alive. Now it was likely that the poor creature had got herself killed too.
They sat in silence until Romarus muttered, “I can’t be a king.”
“If you were not king you wouldn’t have just experienced what you did in this bedchamber a moment ago,” she jested with a grin, trying to lighten the king’s burden.
“True.” His mouth forced a smile with his bright blue eyes still fixed on nothing. “But I have a kingdom to look after. People need me and I just fuck things up.”
“And that’s why you have me and I’m not going to leave.” She smiled and their blue eyes met. “Together we’ll make this kingdom work. I’ll make the decisions. We just need to find what you’re good at.”
He had the face he always put on when he tried to think. Londenia had seen it a thousand times. “If the kingdom needs some whores fucked then I could do that,” he joked, in his charming way.
It hit her. This king was not one who would sit in court and make decisions. This was the peoples’ king. A charming king. A caring king. “You will be the peoples’ king. You will make them love you and they will follow you,” she told him, as if she were trying to rouse a crowd, her enthusiasm for the idea mounting as she spoke. She realized that there was something about his pure heart and simple nature that could make the Ten Kingdoms a better place.
Romarus looked unnerved but showed a smile. “And you’ll make the decisions? Read all of the announcements and messages we receive? I’m shit at all that.”
“That’s why I’m here. But first, we need to select a wife for you to bear a child. The line of kings must not be broken.”
“Oh.” The king licked his lips and raised his eyebrows, as he always did when he was about to tell of mischief or anything he deemed exciting. “I’ve already chosen.”
Romarus’s words hit her in the chest and bubbled in her stomach. She feared she might know the answer but couldn’t bring herself to hear it.
“Bostonia,” he announced.
Ten Gods! Londenia cursed in her head. Why choose my sister?!
Bostonia was her younger sister by four years but they could pass for twins. She came to Last Kingdom as part of Londenia’s court when she first took the throne. She had resided in the keep of Deca’Herem ever since. It was partly envy that made her hate the king’s choice, but her main objection was because Bostonia was a nasty little cunt. She will ruin him.
“But you know fine well my sister isn’t known for her kindness,” Londenia reasoned with him.
Ever since Romarus had come of age, Londenia saw her sister tease him and tempt him. Then, like a common whore, withdraw. Bostonia would even, on occasion, turn nasty towards him, like a spoiled little lady. Romarus seemed blind to her faults and it was as if her cruel nature was more tempting to him. After all, it is rare to find a woman who would play around with a king’s heart in such a risky manner.
“But she’s got a beautiful face and tits like yours.” He laughed, gripping his tongue between his teeth as his cheeks dimpled into a smile.
I have tits like mine, she wanted to scream, but realized it wouldn’t change anything. “This connection is not just for the bedchamber. She will be a representative of your court.” Londenia slowed her words. “And her nature will likely pass and be bestowed onto your first prince…the next king!”
“What does bestowed mean?”
Oh dear…His lack of intelligence worried Londenia but she reminded herself of her role. This was not his strength. His strength, she hoped, would be caring, engaging, and soon, being a leader.
“Don’t trouble yourself.” She shook her head. “But please, give me time to find you a suitable wife; one who is kind and caring…and has the most wonderful firm tits in the world!” She widened her eyes and curled her lips.
After a quick chuckle, Romarus pressed his lips to her forehead. “Night Blessings,” he said, then threw himself onto the large bed and lay peacefully.
The boy has had his fill and now just drifts off to slumber, she thought with a hint of bitterness in her mind. She looked to the pile of parchment sitting on the table next to her. It was time to find out what news the rider brought from Mor and what the magisters of the Still Cities felt was so important as to take seven of the ten kings to their gates for. A meeting of kings in this number hadn’t happened in centuries—and before that, hadn’t occurred since the very end of the Lost Age. The thought unnerved her. With her heart beating fast, she turned the first page.
And to the brothers she spoke, “No act performed in my name will ever be in vain.”
Scroll 1:2 of the Mother
Owin
In the Name of the Mother
The bright sunlight made him squint as he drew the bowstring, his back straight and stomach muscles tight. Owin held his breath. His face flushed and he knew he held too long. He loosed the arrow at the lone, twisted old tree. It whizzed past the gnarled trunk, through the branches, into the grass field beyond. The draft from the arrow was enough to disturb a flock of tiny, bright-green coney birds. They tweeted and swarmed out of their nests from the thick crown of the tree.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.
The sun was beating down overhead. The fresh grass and purple bloom meant the warm-season was well and truly here. The island was a beautiful place at this time, with its rolling hills covered in grass and heather. It was beautiful in the cold-season too but could kill you if you were unprepared.
Owin loved the warmth of the sun, the tweets of the coneys and the smell of the blooms filling the air. To him, this time of year meant freedom. He could get away from the others on the island and be by himself. Today, he wanted to escape their company more than usual. The elder brothers had left the pod last night and hadn’t returned until dawn. Nobody would say why. Before now he hadn’t seen them act in such a strange way in all of his sixteen years.
He looked at the tree again and this time, remembered what the Mister had taught him. “Don’t hold. Just pull, breathe, and loose,” he could hear him say. He said it so many times it was as if the old man was in Owin’s head. The young brother sensed the Mister’s hands on his shoulders, steadying him. He nocked the arrow and raised the bow which was slightly too large for his body. The bottom of it brushed the ankle-high grass making it look more like a longbow when he held it.
He pulled. Breathed. Let go.
“Yus!” His shout came before the arrow even reached the tree but the Mother told him it would be a good one. He’d never hit it before. The others would normally be with him, watching and laughing when he missed, but today he was completely alone in the field. This was a chance to practice without the idiots watching and a chance to show the Mister at the next training that he was good at something.
Pull. Breathe. Loose. It hit just under his other shot.
Pull. Breathe Loose. This time it twanged in between the other two. Owin felt the Mother’s strength flowing through him. Shot after shot hit the tree until a voice threw him off.
“Owin!”
As he loosed, the fletching grazed his face. The arrow sailed off into the field, disappearing in the long grass. He cursed, grabbing his face. When he looked at his hand there was blood, but not a worrying amount.
He turned to see who was shouting. A pale figure stumbled out of the forest. For a moment, it wasn’t anybody he recognized but as
the figure limped forward he realized it was Leon. “What’s wrong with you? Where have you been? The elder brothers and the Mister were out all night. What were you all doing?”
“Get off the island. It’s not true, none of it’s true.” Leon’s voice rasped and cracked as he staggered closer.
He was less than fifty paces away when Owin heard the Mister calling from the field behind him. “Shoot him down! He has been infected, Owin—his mind and body! In the name of the Mother, shoot him down!”
No hesitation. Pull. Breathe. Loose.
A dull thud. Leon’s hands wrapped around the arrow shaft sticking out of his chest. He swallowed. A deep cough. As he raised his head, dark-red blood oozed from the corner of his lip. His eyes met Owin’s, silently screaming. Leon’s face grew purple with bulging veins.
Owin’s chest throbbed. Shit! I fucking killed him. His brother fell to the ground. The thought of the arrow that was in his hand just one second ago, now lodged in Leon’s chest, twisted Owin’s stomach. Owin collapsed to his knees and vomited. He felt trapped in his own skin. What happened couldn’t be taken back and now he’d have to live with it. His pulse was like thunder in his ears.
“Shhhh, Owin, you did the right thing.” A comforting arm was around Owin’s shoulder. It made the pain go away. “You had no choice. He would have infected us all. He was in contact with a false goddess. She had twisted his mind and infected his body. It is better for him this way. Stay calm, it is over now. I am proud of you for taking that shot.”
The rolling words stopped the churning in Owin’s stomach. The Mister’s proud of me! He turned and looked at the Mister’s wrinkled face through a cloud of tears. “You saw my shot?” asked the young brother.
The Mister was old with gray hair and a weathered face. He was the only one on the Mother’s Island to have brown eyes. He’d been on the island since the Mother had called him there. It was him who saved Owin and the other blue-eyed brothers from the corruption of the Ten back on the mainland. If it wasn’t for him, they’d all be worshiping false gods instead of the Mother. It was through his teachings that one day they may lay with the lost goddesses that will bring them ecstasy. Together, they will bring life.
A Poisoned Land (Book 1: Faith, Lies and Blue Eyes) Page 3