by Gary Bregar
The inflock was calculating its next move as well. It needed the company of Balki Touro if it was to return to its proper home in the now long-forgotten Kingdom of Skite. Centuries ago, the allies of Mantle had risen up in arms against the Skites. The three kingdoms had walked away bathed in the illusion of victory, but little did they know that their victory was only a setback for the Skites. They only required the physical return of Menagraff, and it was the inflock’s duty to return him to power—and to the Skite throne.
The current modern residents of Mantle had only stories of legend to try to understand the Skites. Some told stories of how they came to be, talking of the very first Skites being descended from a dark wizard and his dragon. Others spoke of a curse that had been handed to the Skites by a vengeful witch who caused them to develop their distinctive single horn protruding from the back of their monstrous heads, never allowing them to rest easy on their backs. In that particular legend, the curse of the witch was said to punish them for a failed attempt to steal her power for their own use.
But ultimately, no one knew for sure how they came about and, in the modern age, no one quite cared. They didn’t think about the Skites. It was a part of history, and not a part of history that would be repeated. So why should they care?
The inflock was set to change that, but first he would need to return to the Skite lands, and Balki was the key, at least for now, to making that happen.
****
As Balki walked along the road to the inn at the edge of the village, the party in the square continued. The Spiers had orchestrated a choreographed dance that would have the partygoers amused to no end, while the king continued to receive well-wishers and ponder over his attraction to Bella, still unhappy that she had left.
After two more songs had played, Zander stood up from his chair and motioned to the musicians that he would like to speak. Once the music had stopped and the crowd quieted, Zander said, “To all my loyal subjects and friends of Obengaard, thank you for making me the most content and fortunate of all the kings of Mantle. I am truly honored to serve you. You have shown me the true meaning of celebration, but now, at this late hour, I am set to retire for the night. Please do not retreat from your revelry on my account.”
With that, the crowd erupted in cheer, and Zander signaled that the musicians should reignite their melodies.
As he walked to the inn, followed by his squires and closest advisers, he was met on the road by the village Eagle Master, who ran to him with such urgency that Zander’s advisers circled him with hands ready on their swords. Nevertheless, the young man rushed up, yelling for His Majesty. Zander, being collected as always, stopped and walked through the circle of his men, believing they had overreacted to the excitement of the boy.
“What is the trouble, young master?” Zander asked.
“Forgive my intrusion, Majesty, but I come with an urgent message from the Outland Post,” exclaimed the boy, who was struggling for breath.
“Thank you, boy,” Zander said, as he took the scroll and promptly broke the seal to reveal its contents.
He stood reading the message for what seemed like a long time, before handing the boy a gold coin and turning to his advisers.
“Come, there is disturbing news from the Outlands and we have much to discuss. The guard has discovered Dark Weed,” Zander revealed as he began to walk briskly toward the inn. His advisers followed quickly behind him, each feeling uneasy. Since the king had regained his expression, he had worn a smile that was infectious to those around him. Now, in an instant, that smile had been replaced by an expression of alarm. And, his advisers saw that there was also something else written in his face—a realization that their world might soon be changed.
Changing of Castles
THE KING’S MEETING with his advisers lasted throughout much of the night. Neither Zander, nor his advisers, knew what to make of the Dark Weed appearing in the Outlands. The weed had only grown in the time of the Skites, and no one present at the meeting had ever witnessed it firsthand. But they all knew the dangers that came with its presence in the Outlands that lie between the three civilized kingdoms and the long-defeated Skite Kingdom.
Dark Weed was known to spread like fire and swallow those who happened to find themselves unfortunate enough to step close to it. Therein lay the problem; it was nearly impossible to detect the weed when it chose not to be visible. Yes, it had a will of its own, and its will was death to all beings not of the Skite realm.
Although it was named a weed, its appearance was more like that of grass. But this was no ordinary grass. With three-sided blades as thin as thread—one side brown, one side green, and the third black—it was as sharp as the thinnest glass and would cut with the efficiency of the thinnest steel. A poor soul who might wander into its territory would not likely notice the grass that would lay flat to the ground, only exposing its brown or green sides. But once close enough, it would reveal its black side and rise into a swirling dance that would render the victim helpless. The terror that the victim would see in the swirling dance of the weed, if they should happen to gaze at it for even a brief moment, would freeze them in petrifying fear. Once the victim had been stunned for even a moment, the Dark Weed would attack at great speed, raising its long blades to entangle its prey and eventually devour it.
It was a very efficient form of defense for the Skites, and many of the allied armies of Mantle had lost their lives to it during the Mantle War. Eventually, they realized that the Grey Eagles were capable of detecting the grass from the skies, and then could relay its locations to the Allied Army. Many had perished, though, before they understood this. It was the Sovereign Trees that informed King Reginald that the Eagles had this ability. It was later said that many lives had been lost to the Dark Weed, simply because Reginald had not thought to ask the question of the trees sooner. It was a regret that he took sadly to his grave.
Now it had returned, and King Zander was suddenly and without warning faced with a grim realization. He sat quietly as his advisers argued over the evidence, debating it as both fact and theory. Zander instinctively knew, though. He knew as sure as he was sitting atop the chair beneath him. If the Dark Weed has returned, then so have the Skites. It was unthinkable, but the evidence was clear, and his intuition was only confirming it.
Once Zander had allowed sufficient time for debate, he ordered Grey Eagles be dispatched to the kingdoms of Bore and Tongar, advising of the discovery and requesting that they make their way to Forris as quickly as possible. He then sent instructions to his generals that they should be on high alert and immediately conduct an inventory of both soldiers and weaponry. When he made this last order, he did so with a horrible twisting in his belly. There were no residents of Forris who had seen battle such as may be had in war. They were highly trained, but bloodshed had been nearly nonexistent since the Mantle War, centuries ago. His armies would be required to learn quickly, with their lives as reward for their studies.
Zander forced back tears and his hand shook, as he signed the order to the generals. Fathers, help me not to send them to certain and painful death, he thought.
Once all of the orders had been handed down and the Eagles dispatched, Zander stood from the table where they had assembled and looked directly into the eyes of each of his men.
“Gentlemen, you are to keep the events of this evening to yourselves. We do not want to be responsible for a panic when we have so little information. We will leave for Obengaard at midmorning. I have business to attend to before we leave.”
Not giving them a chance to respond to his remarks, Zander quickly went to his adjoining private quarters and promptly shut the door, leaving them to wonder about his morning business. Although his mind was busy on other matters, this knowledge gave Zander a good deal of satisfaction. He so rarely had the opportunity to remind his advisers in such a subtle way that their influence over him was not unlimited.
****
Just as the sun was rising, Zander was already on his
horse. He was followed by his squire and two Royal Guards, making their way down the stone-lined dirt road that led to the home of Bella Abbot.
When they arrived at the Abbot farm, Jonattan and Lizabet became aware that someone was arriving when the flowers that were arranged on the table quickly, but gently, turned their blooms toward the door of the cottage. By the time Zander and his party rode up to the front of the home, Jonattan and Lizabet were waiting. When they saw that it was the king, they approached and knelt before Zander could get down from his horse.
“Good morning, Jonattan and Lizabet Abbot,” Zander said as he handed his squire the reins of his horse.
“Good morning to you also, Majesty,” Jonattan replied, with Lizabet quickly adding, “It’s nice to see you again, Majesty.”
Zander looked down at Lizabet, and said with a warm smile, “Young Lizabet Abbot, have I not told you before that you need not bow to me?”
“Yes, Majesty, but it is only proper manners. My Aunt Roni always said, ‘Proper manners are like the cream you put atop the cake.’ Wouldn’t you agree, Majesty?”
“Why yes, I suppose I would agree,” Zander said with a chuckle. Although he had the horrors of a potential war on his mind, being in Lizabet’s presence filled him with joy. The feeling was foreign to him and indescribable.
Zander turned to Jonattan, “Where might I find your sister?”
Although the question was clearly meant for Jonattan, Lizabet spoke up first as she pointed toward the far side of the meadow, “She has gone to the apple tree to speak with Aunt Roni at her grave.”
“I see,” replied Zander. “I would very much like to speak with her privately, but would not disturb such a personal moment.”
“Don’t be worried, Majesty,” Jonattan said. “She speaks with our aunt nearly every morning since her passing. She will be very happy to see you.”
****
When Zander walked up behind Bella, who was sitting next to the gravestone that sat under the tree, he intentionally stepped on a twig to make his presence known. Bella had been talking in her normal voice, and Zander had no intention of eavesdropping.
When Bella turned to discover the king standing behind her, she displayed a look of shock. Even though it was only her surprise, Zander had taken her expression to mean that he had invaded her intimate moment of privacy. He quickly turned his head down and said, “I am so sorry to have bothered you. I can wait with my men until you have finished your thoughts.”
As he turned and began to walk away, Bella said, “Majesty, wait, you are not bothering me in the least. Please, come join me, if you will.”
Zander smiled with relief, and began to walk back to where she was sitting.
When he stopped just to the side of her, Bella looked up and said, “Would you like to sit with me?”
Zander quietly responded by sitting cross-legged next to her, where they sat in silence for a long time. It didn’t seem like a long time to them, though. They each had very heavy thoughts, both minds swimming with joy and, in Zander’s case, their unknown future and the future of the entire kingdom.
Finally, as she put her arms back and turned her gaze up at the young apple tree, Bella said, “You know, my Aunt Roni would have loved to see you smile.”
Zander looked toward her and said, “I’m sure she was a remarkable woman.”
“Yes, she was the happiest woman that I ever knew. I believe that is where my sister comes by her infectious joy. What about you? Where do your traits come from?”
Zander had never been asked such a question, and it had never occurred to him to question his own life decisions and who had influenced them. “I never knew my mother. She died when I was only a baby, but I’m told she was a very kind, but quiet woman. My father, on the other hand, was not a quiet man.” After a brief pause, they both began to laugh. It wasn’t particularly funny, and Bella had never met Zander’s father, but somehow laughter seemed appropriate.
When they both became silent again, Zander continued, “He was a great leader, with a talent for diplomacy. He would hand out orders firmly, but in a way that would make you happy to accept them. But, I think his most admirable quality was his compassion for his people. I can only hope that I have inherited some of his caring nature. I’ve had such a difficult time with my own personal demons that I’m afraid I have neglected those around me.”
Bella smiled and turned to him, “You are too hard on yourself, and everyone has critics. It is up to you to decide if you would add one more by harshly judging yourself. You are a good king, and it takes a fool not to see it.”
“That is kind of you, and what’s better, it’s good advice for a king. Would you hand out the same advice to a queen?”
Bella looked over to Zander, who was looking down at his hands, which were nervously twisting the meadow grass. She stared at him for a few moments before saying, “Yes, Majesty, I would give the same advice to a queen.”
Zander wasted no time before rising to his feet and extending his hand to assist her in rising as well. Once they were both standing face to face, he held both of her hands for a moment. Then, keeping his eyes fixed on hers, he slowly lowered to both knees. Tears immediately began to roll down Bella’s cheeks.
“Bella Abbot, will you live out your days as my friend, lover, wife, and queen?”
Zander’s eyes now moved from Bella’s, and lowered with his head so that he faced the ground to await her response. Bella was overtaken with stunned silence at first, a million images of both the past and the as yet-decided future racing through her mind.
At last, she knelt to him and raised his head with her hand gently below his chin. They both looked at each other, Bella crying and Zander with a look of anxious wonder.
“Yes, my king—I will be your friend, your lover, your wife, and your queen.”
With this, Zander smiled wildly and burst into tears himself. He kissed her and then pulled her close in an embrace that seemed to last forever.
As they walked across the meadow, back to the cottage, Zander explained part of what had transpired overnight. He told her that there were threats emerging from the Outlands, but did not tell her of the Dark Weed. He told her of the messages that he had dispatched to the other kingdoms, asking them to come to Forris at once, but he did not tell her the reason for the urgency. He told her that he was concerned, but did not tell her that he was, in fact, frightened.
All told, he had explained enough to Bella in order to make her understand that they must leave that very same day. She had listened silently as they walked, not interrupting him as he went on with his reasons for concern. When she thought of a question, before she could find her voice to ask it, Zander would coincidently answer enough of the question to appease her. When he was done, it took a moment for Bella to realize what he had asked of her—of her family. He had finished his story with the announcement that they must leave Terra immediately.
The reality of the situation began to wash over her.
How can I leave my home? How can I NOT leave my home? This is what I’ve always wanted and dreamed of.
“Then we shall need to pack quickly, Majesty,” Bella said as she turned to him with a smile. She knew that she would now need to start thinking of what would be in the best interest of the people of Forris. Once she became queen, they would look to her for guidance. As queen, she would not be the decision maker—that was reserved for the monarch—but she would be their queen nonetheless. And she would begin by acting as though she already were; by supporting her future husband.
Zander smiled back to her, and said, “Bella, thank you for understanding. You will be the light by my side.”
Then Zander stopped walking, and took Bella’s hands once more. “Bella, my one love, you are to be my wife. If it were only possible, I would love you even more if you would call me Zander.”
Bella blushed behind her grin when she whispered, “Zander—that sounds nice.”
They again began to walk toward the cottage, w
hich was now approaching rapidly. Bella’s excitement was now visible.
Zander
The others, Jonattan, the squire and guards, had no idea why the king and Bella were now holding hands or why Bella looked so excited. But Lizabet knew. She recognized Bella’s expression, and began to run to her.
When she reached Bella, short of breath and eyes wide with excitement, she wrapped her arms around her and looked up to ask, “Are you going to be queen?”
“Yes, Lizabet, I am going to be queen,” she said, bending down to her.
Jonattan and the guards, still out of earshot, continued to stand confused until Zander and the others stopped in front of them. The king reached out and put his hand on Jonattan’s shoulder.
“Jonattan Abbot, I would like for you to be”—Zander started to say before looking down at Lizabet and continuing—“nearly the first to know that I have asked your sister for her hand in marriage.”
Jonattan’s face lit up, as he exclaimed, “That is wonderful news! I’m so happy!” He embraced his sister in a strong hug.
Zander, enjoying the excitement, said, “We are to be brothers by law, Jonattan, although I hope that we will become trusting brothers by love and respect.”
“I hope that also,” replied Jonattan.
“We will ride back to the village to make preparations for our departure. I also need to make our engagement known to my council. That should be a lively conversation,” he said with a chuckle. “Meanwhile, Bella will explain everything to you both. I apologize in advance, for I’m afraid that what she tells you will be sudden, for time has turned against me. I will see you shortly.”