by Joni Green
Xhahari paled.
“It is true,” said Perdix. “I was there. Come. We must be on our way.”
“Where are we going?”
“To the Caves of Rotou.”
“But that is where the Ichor live.”
“Precisely.”
Chapter 18
Journey into Darkness
Pale flesh – like a beacon you guide me to that ignoble bliss.
*****
The small gray donkey stood still while the two packed all the things Perdix thought they might need for their journey.
“No one is here to see us off,” said Xhahari.
“They are gathered in front of the cathedral to hear the vows of the Princess.”
They crossed through the castle gate and out into the broad grasslands surrounding the castle.
“How long will it take us?” the youth asked.
“Many days,” said the old man. “We go on foot and lack the swiftness of the big cat and cannot soar as the Ichor.”
“Why did they drown the child, Perdix?”
“I was not privy to the Queen’s innermost thoughts, my lad. I can only speculate.”
“Why would you guess they did it?”
“I’m sure I cannot say.”
“But you must have some explanation.”
“To save their skins.”
*****
It had not been an easy birth. Her Majesty had been sitting upright for hours, but nothing she could do would hasten the coming of the child.
The walls of the room were bare. Every tapestry had been removed. Nothing was left to chance. It would not do to let pregnant royal eyes fall upon some evil that was woven within them.
Her many servants were busy slamming doors and chest lids and doing anything they could think of to expedite the birth.
“Augh!”
The final contraction felt as if her womb was being pulled from her with dragon’s claws.
“It’s a boy!”
Those were the last words the Queen heard before she was overtaken by a fainting spell.
“Bring him to me,” she said, hours later.
“Oh, Your Mastris.”
It was the old doctor who had attended her these long months.
“What is it?” the Queen asked. “Do not gloss over the truth. Tell me plainly. Truthfully. Now.”
“I am sorry, My Lady . . .”
“What. What. Tell me,” she demanded.
“It was a monstrous birth.”
Chapter 19
Brem
Mortal life soon passes,
Save for that which makes the undead sing.
*****
“But Master,” said Xhahari, “did the Queen not know that such an evil plan could come to no good?”
“You are such a smart young man,” Perdix said. “Desperation drives even the sanest to the edge of the abyss. Besides, anyone who did not know Dyryke in his prime would never believe what a beautiful and deceitful man he was. I do not fault the Queen for falling for his plan. She was only a woman.”
*****
“What are we going to do? His Majesty will lay one eye on this child and know immediately that it is not his.”
Dyryke looked at her and smiled.
It was outrageous. She wanted to spear him through and through, but she must hold off doing anything until she found out if he could help her. Why had she submitted to his ridiculous scheme?
“My sacred love,” he whispered.
He took her in his arms. She melted to his body, feeling his manhood harden against her silken robes.
“No,” she said, pushing him away. “He will kill us both, you know.”
“I don’t care,” he said.
“Well, I do.”
“Perhaps,” he said, “we could trade the child for another who is not so hideous.”
“You fool,” she said. “How do you propose that? The secret of our betrayal would be out before the sun arose.”
“Perhaps, you are right. The enemies of the kingdom are many.”
“Tell me what to do,” she said. “I command you.”
“Tell your maid you wish to bathe in private,” he said.
“You can’t leave me in the hour of my distress. I forbid it.”
“I’m going nowhere. I will hide behind the door of your small hidden room.”
“Wizard of Darkness,” said the Queen, “how do you know about that?”
“Your husband was not the only one who partook of my special potion.”
The Queen frowned but said nothing.
“Have her ready a pan of holy water and much perfume and fine smelling ointments.”
“Holy water. To bathe in?”
No, of course not,” he said. “But tell her you wish to make yourself especially clean and holy for His Majesty. You wish him to see you at your best when he views his rightful heir for the first time.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You are merely a woman. You don’t need to. Just do as I say. And whatever happens, just act surprised and distressed.”
“I don’t have to act. I’m so distraught I cannot trust myself not to burst into tears the moment His Majesty enters the room.”
“Do not do that,” Dyryke warned. “Smile and pretend all is well. We want him in a good mood. Our lives depend on it.”
The large vessel of holy water was brought to the room along with many fine robes and gowns.
There was a knock at the door.
“Your Majesty sent for me.”
It was Perdix.
“Yes,” said the Queen.
She moved to the far corner of the large chamber.
“Come here. By the window. The noise outside will serve me well, I think.”
“But Your Majesty,” said Perdix, “you speak so softly. Your voice is barely above a whisper. I can hardly hear you.”
“You would do well to talk as quietly as I do,” she said. “Dyryke lurks behind a secret door over there. Do not speak loudly. Your voice will carry right to him.”
“What is it? Have you fallen for the wiles of the serpent?”
“I might just as well have. You’re an honest man. I have observed you for many years. Take this,” she said, handing Perdix a golden ring with a large stone.
“I cannot take this,” he said.
“You can. And you will. I need your help. My life depends on you.”
She talked quietly for a few moments more. Perdix shook his head. He left the Queen and walked straight to the village of the outcasts. It was a long walk, but he made good time.
The few rickety houses of sticks and mud stuck out sadly against the giant trees of the forest. They were so poorly built they looked like a gentle breeze could topple them at any moment. No grass grew around them. The dirt was red clay and beaten hard as a rock by the innumerable barefoot steps of the peasant serfs.
Gray smoke from pit fires filled the air with an acrid smell. A man bellowed. A woman yelled. Kids were fighting and crying.
A muddy creek ran through the village, clogged with debris and human waste. Heavy gunmetal clouds hung low over the place.
The few spindly trees that dared to grow in the village commons hung their heads in shame. Everything about the place looked spent.
He walked to the graveyard of the outcasts. There was a wooden-wheeled cart filled with bodies being pulled by a man in rags so holey he was barely covered.
“Stop,” said Perdix.
“Leave me alone,” said the man. “Darkness falls soon.”
“Let me help you,” Perdix told him.
“Are you mad? Have the mushrooms blighted your thinking?”
“No, they have not,” said Perdix.
“I am Brem,” he said.
“I know who you are,” said Perdix.
“Then you know you should not even be looking at me.”
“Do not worry about me,” said Perdix. “I can take care of myself. Your curse may cause weaker heart
s to flutter, but I have great magic. It is strong and good. I will help you.”
“But you will be cursed, too.”
“Nonsense. Someday, you and I will be where they are. I will help.”
Brem shook his head and pulled the cart toward the large pit he had dug earlier.
“You do this every day,” Perdix said.
“It is a thing that has to be done. I hate it. But I am cursed. They let me live as long as I bury their dead. It is not a good deal, but at least, I’m alive.”
Brem pulled the cart to the edge of the pit. Perdix began pulling off bodies of men, women, and children.
“You know,” Perdix said, “if it wasn’t for the smell, this wouldn’t be a half-bad job. I mean, at least you have no overlord beating you with a whip.”
Brem smiled.
“What do you want?” Brem asked.
“I don’t know,” said Perdix. “I come on a whim. If I find what I am searching for, perhaps I will let you know. Perhaps not.”
“It is no worry to me,” said Brem. “I am glad for the help.”
Near the bottom of the pile of bodies, Perdix spied two newborn boys.
“A shame,” Perdix muttered.
“The sprites fill the pits out here,” said Brem.
“Let me have these,” said Perdix.
“Are you going to eat them?”
“Of course not. Here is piece of pork. Barely rotten. The worms have not scavenged much. It will fill your gut if it doesn’t decide to come back up.”
Brem looked at the meat.
“I have never had such a treat,” he said. “Take them. What are they to me?”
“Fewer carcasses to pitch into the hole,” said Perdix.
“Less, yes,” Brem.
As Perdix walked away, he could hear the man grunting and chewing.
He found a clear stream not far from the pit. In the middle of the forest, Perdix looked about. No prying eyes. No witnesses.
He washed the small, delicate corpses.
Two beautiful baby boys. Perfect in limbs. The right number of fingers. The right number of toes. No mark could be found on their pale, blue skin.
Which to chose?
It was a problem worthy of Solomon’s wisdom.
Perdix made his choice, choosing the larger, more handsome one.
“Before I can perform the spell, I must have a name for you,” Perdix muttered.
He peeled back a tiny eyelid. A cloudy eye stared back at him.
“Andolin,” he said. “I shall call you, Andolin.”
Chapter 20
Andolin
The days
The nights.
They matter naught to me.
Yet, to drink your crimson blood,
Darkness makes a fine cloak
For when I visit thee.
*****
Perdix raced back to the castle. He would save the Queen. He would save the kingdom. He would be a hero.
All these thoughts raced in circles in his head.
“Go in,” said the maid who stood outside the Queen’s door. “You are expected.”
Perdix did not knock. He threw open the door and stopped dead in his tracks.
“Close the door, you fool,” Dyryke demanded. “You will get us all killed.”
The deformed baby floated just beneath the surface of the water.
“Swaddle the child carefully,” said Dyryke. “Leave no mark.”
The Queen did as he said.
Dyryke turned to Perdix, “One word from you, and we all three die.”
“Send the man away,” said Perdix.
The Queen looked bewildered. She glanced at the small floating blob in the water.
Perdix said in a calm, quiet voice, “Send him away, Your Majesty. The king is coming. I have heard the warning trumpets. The maids are making ready for his entry, any minute. Leave this to me. Everything will be alright.”
“Out,” said the Queen.
Dyryke’s eyes were narrow slits. Cold hate filled them, but he turned and quickly left the chambers.
“What am I to do?” she asked.
“The labor was hard, I know. But this is what I want you to do,” said Perdix. “Go prepare for your husband. I must work quickly. There is not much time.”
“How will you escape?”
“Never mind,” said the alchemist. “Hold this one in your arms.”
“But this baby is dead, too,” said the Queen.
“Cry and fuss and tell them all that the poor thing died at birth. The King was not here. He will not know what has happened.”
“But this child is dead. The King will kill me.”
“Trust me,” said Perdix. “Take to your bed. You must act heartbroken. But do not worry. I promise your life will be spared.”
She left Perdix, climbing into bed with the swaddled corpse.
He worked swiftly.
As the king entered the room, he felt the passing breeze of the alchemist invisibly slip by.
The King heard one word whispered softly into his ear.
Perdix slipped out the door unseen, and it closed behind him.
The King looked down at his wife.
“Oh, Your Majesty,” she said between the tears, “the child, once born, has died.”
All at once, the Queen was overcome by horrendous pains in her abdomen. She could do nothing but scream and hand the dead little baby to her husband. He handed the little body off to a nearby maid-in-waiting.
“By God’s grave,” said the servant.
The dark crown of another baby’s head shown between the Queen’s legs. The servant cupped the baby as it plopped from the royal womb.
The maid quickly grasped the infant by the feet and smacked his bottom. The baby bawled loudly.
“It is a miracle,” said the King. “One is lost, but one remains. I have a son! I have a son!”
“My wife,” said the king, “you have done your duty well.”
The queen sat down upon her bed. All strength had left her. She felt like the waters of Lake Ludwala.
“He crieth for his mother’s breast,” said the King.
The queen took the little baby, placing the infant at her breast.
The queen smiled, and said softly, “What shall you call him, Your Majesty?”
“Andolin.”
Chapter 21
The Pigeon’s Coo
The blood that flows within you
Sends my soul to heights sublime.
Just to feel your pulsing life
Drain away
As I make it mine.
*****
“You swapped the babies,” said Xhahari, “and put one inside the royal womb.”
“Yes,” said Perdix. “With only seconds to spare. I worked as quickly as possible. I had heard the peal of the King’s trumpets so I knew he was on his way to see the newborn heir. I was sweating cow patties. My spell of invisibility never lasts more than a pigeon’s coo.”
“What did you do with the monster, Master?”
“I hid him beneath the layers of my tunics and cloak. I took the body and buried it in the pit of the outcasts. It was not difficult. The ground was soft. The gravedigger had finished his tasks and left. It was very late. No one was around to witness the act.”
“You were not worried the Ichor might claim you?”
“No. I wore this,” Perdix said, pulling down the high collar of his ragged tunic.
“An iron choker,” said Xhahari. “Brilliant.”
“Here,” said the old man. “It is one of the many things I had the blacksmith make. It has been blessed with many spells.”
Xhahari put the choker around his neck.
“Dyryke’s son was horribly cursed, Xhahari. Even if they had not drowned him, he would not have lived long, I fear. He was broken in so many places: missing a hand, an ear, and his eyes were most evil. One at the top of his forehead, the other low on his cheek. Abominable. I shudder to think of him even now.”
&nb
sp; “Still, a royal among the outcasts,” said Xhahari. “It doesn’t seem right. What happened to the other one? The outcast you did not choose.”
“No good came out of any of it, I’m afraid,” said the old alchemist. “As to the other child, he was buried in the floor of the chapel in the royal tomb.”
“An outcast among the royals,” Xhahari muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.
Perdix stumbled. The way was rocky.
“Let us rest,” he said.
They sat down upon the large boulders. Perdix drank some water from his leather bag, offering some to his companion.
“And Andolin,” said Xhahari, “he lived but five years.”
“Oh,” said Perdix, “that was another story I was tasked to spread.”
“What do you mean?”
“Andolin will never die. He is one of the Clan of Ichor and destined to live forever.”
Chapter 22
Heir Anointed
To hold you in my arms
And feel you floating free.
I drink of nectar red
I lose myself in thee.
*****
Andolin was sired by the Greater Unknown. He chose to make the Caves of Rotou his home. He loved to hear the winds howl through the magnificent underground chambers, watch the rays of sunlight spear through holes in the mountain and turn the waters of the obsidian pools to shimmering gems of green and blue.
The caverns were a labyrinth of tunnels and vast open spaces filled with organic columns of rock. There were endless crevasses and ravines that stretched down into the blackness of the earth’s core.
The eternal echo of dripping water into death-stilled pools bounced off the stone walls and ricocheted across the infinite passageways. Time stood still here. And if he chose to stay within the dark recesses of the grottoes, Andolin would grow blind to the cycles of sunrise and sunset.
But he could not stay in the ebony confines of safety forever.
He was forced from his blissful sanctuary of solace into the loud, foul, rank, and chaotic world outside the caves because of his insatiable appetite for the blood wine that pulsed in the veins of dirty humans.