Prophecy of the Flame

by Lynn Hardy

  I address the youngsters as adults, hoping they are bright enough to understand. “Keth and Phedra, I take none into my service who do not come of their own free will. Before you accept assignment with me, there are two things you must know: I am new to this world, and my ways are strange. I expect questions to be asked, at the proper time, when my behavior confuses you. I will try to answer any concerns you have. The other thing is magic. I am a mage. It is like being a sorcerer. I use magic often and have many enchanted objects. For this reason, you must be comfortable with sorcery. Do you still wish to be a part of my personal staff?”

  “M’lady,” Keth begins with an awkward bow, “I’s always liked magicians. Servin’ be a fun.” I nod in response as he bows again, grinning from ear to ear, revealing teeth that will benefit from braces.

  On a hunch, I whisper, “Sight.” Though not a powerful aura, his shows he has a definite affinity for corporeal magic. I’ll keep an eye on him. If he has brains and a strong will, I’ll see if Merithin can take him as an apprentice. Phedra, though, seems to have no ability at all.

  “M’lady.” Phedra shuffles her feet. “I’d like to serve you too.” Not said with grace, but it comes from the heart.

  “Service accepted,” I affirm. “Keth, you will go with William. He will provide instruction as to the duties of a page.” I nod to William, who leads the new employee from the room.

  Turning to Phedra, I indicate Crystal standing beside me. Although my voice remains firm, it takes on a softer tone. “Phedra, this is Crystal. You will report to her. Do you have any skills or interest? Do you know how to read or write?”

  “I got no teaching.” I strain to catch her murmur. “Keth’s suppose ta take over the shop, but he passed on some he learned to me.”

  I turn to address Crystal. “I might have need of a scribe. Please see both she and her brother have the proper training in reading and writing.” I discern waves of dismay coming from the maid. “This is a direct command from the archmage. If anyone has a problem following my orders, have them report to my reception chamber at evening bells. I will reassure them this is an order I intend to have obeyed.” The head chambermaid radiates amazement as she bobs her head in acceptance.

  “Is there a place where Phedra can sleep close by you?” I ask.

  “Milady, I could make a pallet on the floor in the corner of my room…” There is a hesitation in her voice.

  “Show me your sleeping quarters.” There must be a better way than a pallet on cold stone. Even my dog sleeps on her own couch. I follow Crystal over toward the bathroom and the curtained doors leading to the balcony. Another doorway lies in the corner of the room. She swings the door inward. I get my first look at the servant’s quarters.

  The walls of the tiny room are bare. It contains two pieces of furniture, not that it would hold much else. The bed is even smaller than a twin, more like a cot. A roughhewn chest sits at its foot. As I surmised yesterday, another door leads out at the opposite end of the room providing a back door into my chambers. No wonder she was reluctant to share her room. This isn’t much bigger than a closet! Maybe I can make this arrangement a little more bearable.

  Inspired by the child at my side, I begin a spell.

  “For my staff this will not do.

  We need bunk beds made for two,

  Chest of drawers too.

  Of magic I create you

  With a bibbity-bobbity-boo.”

  A heavenly smile graces my lips as cerulean mist fills the room with the beginning of the rhyme. Bells toll in the distance as I utter the last line. A bright flash goes off like a spark set to a room filled with gas fumes.

  “Oh, now there are two beds!” Phedra takes a step back.

  Crystal has no such reservation. She walks into the room. One hand reaches out to feel the satin finish of the solid oak beds that are still narrow but complete with a ladder to the top bunk and drawers underneath. She slides open one of the five drawers to the dresser stationed at the foot. With her chin on her breast and eyes downcast, she whispers, “Milady, these things… they are much too nice. I have no way to pay you for them.”

  “Nonsense. I didn’t ask for payment. It was my choice to increase my staff. It took very little effort to upgrade the available quarters to compensate for it. Besides you will be losing your privacy. This is the least I can do in return.” Discerning the overwhelming sense of appreciation, my explanation trails off as tears gather in the corners of her eyes. And I thought that life might have pushed her beyond caring.

  A rap at the outer door interrupts the awkward silence. “I’ll get that,” I declare as Crystal makes a hasty effort to compose herself. “Why don’t you get the newest member of our staff settled in?”

  The smile Crystal gives as I turn to go is more than enough payment for the minor spell I have cast. This is the first time I have actually felt the smile when she gave it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Don’t you guys look sharp.” My lips nearly disappear as I smile when the gang files through the door.

  “Ooh, imagine that, Reba actually has to answer her own door.” My spirits are so high, Allinon’s jab doesn’t even faze me. But Charles seems to take offense. He nails him with a dirty look, elbowing him on his way past.

  “I apologize. That was rude and ill mannered of me.” Allinon bows in my direction. Has an alien replaced my least favorite companion overnight?

  “That’s never stopped you before.” Seeing the abashed look from my aggressor, I jest, “Besides, what do you think I’m gonna do? Get pissed off and zap you?”

  I perceive genuine fright from the elf as the five of us cross the threshold of the secured dining room. The entire group radiates an uncomfortable feeling. “Okay, spill it. What is going on here? You guys feel like you’re walking a tightrope.”

  Allinon and Charles exchange glances while we assume our places. Charles lets out a sigh. “You’d better tell our Little Hot Momma. Like all women, she’s gonna hang onto this like a pit bull fightin’ a Chihuahua. I’m bettin’ she won’t let go ‘til one of us is dead.”

  I turn a questioning gaze to Allinon. “It’s nothing really…” I arch an eyebrow at him and he capitulates. “Fine, if you must know, yesterday after the meeting, I was complaining to Charles about Duke Rokroa. That jerk continued being a total pain after you left the council. Charles pointed out his resemblance to me, to my attitude. When Jerik agreed, I figured the three of you, along with my wife, couldn’t all be wrong. Charles has agreed to help me… how did you put it, ‘improve my social dialogue skills.’”

  “Admirable goal. As they say: knowing is half the battle. Now down to business. How comes the training?” With time in short supply today, I am anxious to begin. “Anything you need from me?”

  “Allinon and I…” Charles pauses as he yawns. It seems contagious as Allinon follows his lead, mouth gaping wide. “Excuse me. I was trying to say, we’ve been working with the twenty best swordsmen they have, one from each division. They’re pretty quick learners. In another day or two, they should have some of the needed techniques down. They’ll then be in charge of training each of the—”

  Again, both men are overcome with tiredness. Charles draws a hand across his face, shaking his head before concluding, “Each will pass on the training to their division.”

  “Party to hardy last night?” I try a little humor even though I am thoroughly pissed they have obviously chosen entertainment over their duties.

  “Pppsshh. I wish! That was the other thing I thought you should hear from us.” After an extended pause, Charles mumbles, “We lost six archers last night.”

  Chair legs scrape the floor as I bound to my feet. Frost cloaks my voice. “Why wasn’t I woken?”

  The swordsman holds out his hands as if to ward off a blow. “Hey, now… the duty officer didn’t wake us till a couple of marks before sunrise to get our opinion on the matter.”

  Holding my tongue, I give a tight nod, inviting him to elaborate.


  “There was no fault in your shield. It was a matter of human error. Those demons are crafty SOB’s. A couple of marks before sunrise, groups of the monsters appeared on all sides of the castle.” A seriousness I haven’t seen before grips the clown of our group as he continues. “With the quietness of the night prior, the men must have been half asleep. The guards rushed to the edge of the battlements to get a few shots off.

  Winged demons swooped down from above. It was a massacre. But the fault didn’t lie in your defense. Since the shield wasn’t penetrated, we didn’t wake you. Instead, Twigs and I did a round on the upper wall to reassure the men and reinforce the need for maintaining a distance from the edge. My main man even managed to get off a couple of shots with his long bow. He took out a couple of those flying bastards.”

  “I see… Thank you for the update. I appreciate your consideration for my rest.” One more thing I need to fix. Dismissing the topic with a sigh, I try not to let the fact that six men died in the night get me down. “Jamison, how are the healers progressing?”

  “Training is going better than expected,” he reports. “They have a much better grasp of the human body than any medieval society I have read about. They’re even aware of germs, on a hypothetical level. That makes training merely a matter of showing them how to access and use their powers. I’m gonna cruise by the Healers’ Consortium this afternoon and check it out.”

  After an extended pause, I urge, “And exactly what did you hear about the prophecy?”

  A wide grin spreads across his handsome face. “Well, let’s just say they sat you next to Prince Alexandros for a good reason. It seems everyone expects you to marry the crowned prince.” Jamison drops the bomb. My mouth falls open. Nonplussed, I stare, unwilling to believe what I’ve heard.

  “But… but… I’m already married!” I stammer, shaking the betraying thought from my head. “I don’t have time to worry about this crap!” Nearly shouting the denial, I add in a more reasonable tone, “Besides, I’m having dinner with Szames tonight. He’s supposed to relate the entire prophecy word for word. It’s probably some obscure phrasing that people have interpreted to mean marriage. After all, didn’t they also expect me to be a man?” Why are they still radiating such unease?

  I continue with the business at hand. “I’m working on several spells to aid in the personal defense for the soldiers, but I still need to test it. I’d rather not say any more ‘til I am sure it will work. Right now, what I really need is a huge favor. Will you let me try out my speech?” I beg, wishing I had more than an hour to practice.

  Receiving shrugs and grunts from the guys, I launch into the dissertation I composed the night before. By the time the table has been set for breakfast, the monologue is finished. The guys sit quietly, drooling over the bounty before us. I finally get the hint, helping myself to the new type of cheese that has been placed on the table. It tastes like bleu cheese. I grimace, placing the small chunk to the side of my plate.

  Each man mumbles a noncommittal patronization about the speech, as if I had asked, “Does this outfit make me look fat?”

  “Come on, guys,” I plead, looking to each one of my comrades. “I know I suck at public speaking. I wish one of you could give it, but they’ve put me up to bat. Don’t hold back. I’m open to any suggestions.”

  “The words are great,” Jerik takes the lead, his deep rumble unusually tentative. ”But you might try a slower delivery and a pause in between the three major parts.”

  “Put some emphasis here,” Jamison chips in, indicating one of the paragraphs I have written on my paper. “And again… maybe there.”

  “Losing the stuttering wouldn’t hurt,” Allinon smirks. Charles kicks him under the table. “Oh, I’m sorry. I guess that was a little harsh.”

  “A little…” If I can’t do this in front of people I know, how am I going to do this in front of a crowd! Shaking my head, I take my emotions in hand before I breakdown into a teary mess. “Yes, it was a little harsh, but it is something I needed to hear.”

  Still sensing an undercurrent of unease, I slam my silverware down on the table. I pin them all with a mock glare. “And there’s more. I know there is. Out with it, all of you. I’m empathic, remember? It’s Allinon and the rest of you too. It’s like you all are skirting a minefield.”

  Allinon ducks his head, and Charles finds something infinitely intriguing on his plate. Jerik shrugs his massive shoulders. I lock eyes with Jamison, who gives a disconcerted smile.

  “Reba, I’ll ride this wave with you.” He dips his chin at Charles and Allinon. “These guys, all I hear from them is about that meeting yesterday. About how you walked into a room with a king, a prince, and a bunch of nobles and put them in their place. All anyone is talking about is how, in one day, you’ve broken more traditions than what has been done in generations. It has got me all weirded out. It’s like, I don’t know who you are… what to expect from you.” The others nod, agreeing with what only Jamison has had the nerve to say. I let out a sigh of relief.

  “I’m the same old housewife you were introduced to a few days ago.”

  Charles interrupts me before I can even begin. “No, you ain’t. Sweet Momma, you are still you but you’re different. Yesterday you stood right up to that king and said, ‘Excuse me, but I don’t think so. Don’t be a fool.’ I locked my knees, stood there hopin’ they’d give me clean shorts for the execution.”

  “Since you put it that way, yes, you’re right. I guess I have changed. I was telling Jamison about it the other day.” The healer gives me a blank look. “I’ve been granted a tremendous amount of power on this world. I mean, look, yesterday I flew just like Superman.” I see the light dawning in Jamison’s eyes. He relaxes as I continue the antiquated allegory for the rest of the group.

  “I might not be a queen. Heck, I’m not even nobility, but I am beginning to see that I wield more power than any other person on this planet. This realization has given me a great amount of freedom. I don’t have to worry about anyone threatening to execute me or even us, for that matter. I simply won’t permit it.”

  Jerik lets out a grunt of approval, but Charles and Allinon are as still as the stone walls surrounding us.

  “With all this power comes an even greater responsibility. There are demons out there. An entire civilization is counting on us to save them. I’m not going to let some old-fashioned ideas prevent me from keeping as many of these people alive as possible. But I can’t do this without you, all of you. I need your open, honest input, nothing less. Everyone here is so scared of me, I am lucky they don’t wet themselves when I speak to them, much less give constructive criticism.” As the others begin to nod, I tease, “I know I’ve got a temper and all, but I’m still the same person; it’s not like I’m gonna blast you or somethin’.”

  “That thought never crossed my mind.” Jerik gives a hearty laugh. “No offense, Reba, but you aren’t the killer type. Now if my wife had your abilities… watch out! We would’ve all been fried before the first sunset!”

  “Now, if we could get you to give your speech sounding like what you said to us, you’d have it.” Jamison’s sincere advice gets us back on track.

  By the time we are marching out the door for the public address, everything has returned to normal. Charles and Allinon take the lead, and Jamison and I follow. Jerik trails in the rearguard position.

  “Don’t stress it, Reba. That last time sounded pretty good,” Jamison encourages.

  “Yeah, but I still stuttered at least once.” And in front of a live audience, I’m going to be a hundred times worse. Where is my twin when I need her? Lani did great in drama. She never had stage fright! Oh, why didn’t I work harder in speech class? Wait a minute…

  “This will be the last time I have a problem talking,” I declare aloud as the perfect words blaze to life in my mind.

  “Speeches have never been my forte.

  However, that now changes today.

  Stuttering no more as speec
hes I make,

  My voice will carry strong, never break.”

  Giving a push, a tingling sensation cascades from my head to my shoulders.

  “Awesome, dude!” Jamison grins. “That’s the quickest I’ve ever seen someone get over a speech impediment.”

  “Too bad we can’t bottle it and take it home with us!” I quip, my spirits lifted.

  “Why not?” the healer rejoins.

  “Why not what?” I echo.

  Jamison’s breath forms a white cloud around his head as we step out into the brisk, winter day. “Why not make a pill or something to cure a disease? If you make it here, there’s a chance it might work once we get it home. It’s worth a shot.”

  “Hey now, you’re the healer. I don’t think I could make a cure for much more than a headache.”

  Mulling the idea over, I revise my position. “Maybe we could work together. I could make something that might extend life, like a general boost to the immune system to help the body rebuild itself. But as for fighting a complex disease that already has a hold on someone, it would have to be all you.”

  “Before we leave we will set aside a day to try it,” Jamison promises as we approach the guard’s station. “I’ll work on the cure-all and let you know when I figure something out.”

  The royal family is cloistered together, close to yet apart from the elegantly clad nobles milling about.

  “Your Majesties,” I greet the king and queen as the guys step to either side, forming an escort. “Your Highnesses,” I add, nodding to their sons, who flank them.

  “Archmage Reba and the Crusaders of the Light, we present to you the Lady Szacquelyn, Queen of Cuthburan.” Even though King Arturo has presented his wife to us in the introduction, implying I outrank her, I bend low, wanting to show my respect. I am rewarded with a smile that feels genuine.

  Her children have inherited her blue eyes, among other things. Queen Szacquelyn’s hair is golden except for a few strands of gray at the temples. Her age would be impossible to determine if not for the fine webbing of lines around her sparkling, sapphire eyes. As short as all the women I have met have been, she comes to King Arturo’s chest. Her figure is almost identical to Rose’s, her curves more athletic than voluptuous in perfect petite proportions. Although I stand a good six inches taller than she, somehow she manages to meet my eyes without seeming to look up.