Prophecy of the Flame

by Lynn Hardy

  She harrumphs with a wry twist to her mouth. “Take it from someone who knows. Any man can be broken. Maybe not on the first attempt. Maybe not even on the second, but eventually passion will overcome even the strongest of men.” Her determination makes me reexamine my behavior as she commences with the bathing ritual of hair and massage.

  When I lean back into the vanity chair, I am ready to broach the topic again. “You’re right, Crystal. It was inconsiderate of me to put him in such a position. I thank you for pointing out the oversight.” Having conceded victory to her on one point, I rebuke her other observation. “But about one thing you are gravely mistaken. There’s no way Szames is in love with me. He doesn’t even know me. Men often substitute ‘love’ for ‘lust’ when desire overcomes them.”

  “As you say, milady.” Crystal doesn’t buy into the idea. “If I may ask, how would that husband of yours feel about what happened between you and the prince?”

  “Okay. Okay already. It was a really bad judgment call. Kyle would be pissed as all get-out, but he would forgive me.” A rare case of pessimism asserts itself as I mutter, “He’d better after all I have put up with from him.”

  “So your relationship isn’t as picturesque as you have led me to believe? Has he been unfaithful?” The grief cloaking Crystal prompts me to reveal parts of my marriage I would rather forget.

  “I never said it was a perfect relationship. I said we are committed to staying together. That we are both working to achieve that goal. As for being faithful, I guess that depends on your definition of the word.”

  I pause, trying to figure out how to explain our problems in terms that will make sense to her. I am relieved when she dismisses Phedra to her studies. Having finished with my hair, I gesture for her to take a seat with me in the living area.

  I begin hesitantly, “Even in the advanced society of my world where you marry for love, mismatches are made more often than not. Many people choose to dissolve the relationship rather than work to sustain it. Less than half of the marriages make it until ‘death do you part.’

  “Kyle and I have always agreed separation isn’t an option, even when we discovered we have a major difference in opinion on a sensitive issue that is, in essence, the main vow we took: faithfulness.” I have her attention now.

  “Remember those miniature paintings I created? Those are pictures. They’re commonplace on my world. They come in many sizes and shapes. People can even call up these pictures at will. They can look at anything they wish.” Crystal absorbs my description of this amazing feat.

  “My husband is addicted to some of those pictures. Ones that are harder to come by but still quite prevalent. These photos depict other couples engaged in sexual acts.”

  My revelation gets a blank look. I explain, “He uses intimate pictures of other couples for the fulfillment of his fantasies, needs I cannot meet. I’ve always considered this a transgression on the vow to remain faithful. When Kyle courted me, he pledged to give the practice up before we married. But it wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be. We’ve worked for years to come to an understanding; however, the problem still plagues us.” I close my eyes against the agonizing stab, an ache I had hoped my heart would be numb to by now.

  “Milady, I can see how disturbing this is to you, but I am confused as to why this should be. It seems to me your husband found the perfect aid to keep the vow you both cherish. After all, he has lain with no other woman. He simply uses their likeness to satisfy the normal human urge for sexual conquest.” Crystal’s honest puzzlement forces me to put aside my own dislike for the topic.

  “Perhaps your view is valid. Perhaps many more of our unions would last if we embraced other methods to explore our fantasies. But I cannot.” Vividly I recall the chest-seizing anguish that crushed my heart when I first learned that what Kyle believed to be a Playboy habit is really an all-consuming addiction.

  “As a child I saw my parents’ marriage become more and more destructive until it dissolved. Pictures, like the ones my husband uses, were blamed for much of that. And my religion also speaks against it. I believe we should resist the basic animalistic temptations. My spirituality leads me to concentrate on the love and emotion in the intimate act to keep it sacred between the beloved pair. What hurts most, though, are the lies he tells. The deception.”

  “Two years into our marriage, I discovered Kyle had been lying to hide his continual exploration of sex pictures. We spent a year talking with a professional, someone who dedicates themselves to helping others learn to communicate. I finally decided to accept Kyle for who he was. This meant that I needed to give his way a try, regardless of my beliefs.” A tear slides down my face. “No matter my effort, I couldn’t hide the pain accompanying each of our attempts at integrating his fantasy world into our bedroom.”

  “Kyle is a very thoughtful, a very loving husband. He couldn’t continue doing something he knew hurt me. At first he lost almost all interest in sex. Even though less frequent now, there are still times of complete disinterest. It kills me to know that my attempt to sway him into a romantic entanglement fails because I am not enough to stimulate him. He desires something I can’t provide.” Shaking off the negativity, I concentrate on the positive.

  I attempt a smile. “We are overcoming the trial, our union will be stronger for it.”

  “He’s given up something, and you are still hurting.” Crystal makes her harsh statement matter-of-factly, with no sense of ill will accompanying it. “Sounds like a wonderful arrangement. Perhaps the two of you are a mismatch.”

  “Crystal, are any two people ever perfect for one another? The whole point of a marriage is compromise: Growing closer together through the trials of life.” Because divorce isn’t an option, not with vows taken before God.

  She looks thoughtful but shrugs it off as she goes to answer a knock at the door.

  Settling down to a familiar breakfast with the whole gang helps me shake off the remnants of last night’s dream but not Crystal’s warning. As we wind up the meeting, I decide the line I have been walking with Szames is a dangerous one. A little distance will be for the best. Gloom plagues me as I head out for the day.

  “Reba, sorry to keep you waiting.” Szames approaches at a fast walk.

  Seeing him striding my way makes me smile. It gives my spirit an upward lift. Very dangerous ground when one’s husband is nowhere around. “Not a problem. It gave me a rest-break to complete the spell for those large stones. If you’re ready, I have got about a million things to do today.”

  After completing the needed enchantments on the rocks, I take us soaring to enlarge the shield again. Following the same pattern as yesterday, I set us down in the meadow where I promised to meet with Alex. Gallant as ever, Szames agrees to take time out of his schedule to accompany me while I have to deal with his brother.

  “Prince Alex, Yivgeni, I’m pleased both of you could make it.” I set us down feet from their position.

  “Milady, you are my favorite tutor to date. I would not miss one of your lessons for the crown itself,” Alex coos.

  “I’m delighted to hear it.” I proceed with business, brushing off the flattery. “Your brother came up with a novel idea yesterday. I’ve given him the ability to see magic, much the way you activate these lamps by saying a single word. I think it might be worthwhile if I did the same for you.”

  The color drains from Alex’s face. “Reba, I appreciate the offer, but I like my world the way it is. Seeing forces I cannot control would not serve a great purpose for me. Szames is the general and my right hand. His sight will serve for both of us.”

  With his tone of finality, I let the subject drop.

  More than a mark later, Szames has mastered all the activation words, but Alex still fails one time out of every eight. Glancing at the position of the sun, I end the tutoring session.

  “Now for the demon summoning. I need both of you to hold my hands and the light pole.” Hurriedly I place the permanent enchantment.
/>   “All who are evil and malevolent,

  come at my call.

  Drawn by magic, you cannot resist

  this glowing ball.”

  Following the litany, the sphere at the top now shines with a bright blue light to magesight. I nod in satisfaction.

  We prepare to go our separate ways as Alex turns to me. “Anything else I need to mention in the council meeting?” He steps closer.

  “I have nothing more for the council, but if you wouldn’t mind, I would like to request a private meeting with your father before the day’s end. There are a few matters I wish to discuss with him.” I allow his physical advance, putting all my effort into resisting his come-hither gaze. A slap across his face might hurt my chances of getting his assistance in this matter.

  “A private meeting with my father? Tell me, my lady, what must I do to get you to agree to a private meeting with me?” With his use of the title of respect, the hair raises on the back of my neck.

  “Your Highness, I beg you to remember that you speak to a married woman, one who has taken vows of faithfulness to her spouse. I’m afraid unless it pertains to duty, I must decline, even if I wish it otherwise.” Unfortunately I mean every word.

  “Then I will wait patiently for the day when you are released from those vows.” With courtly poise, he takes my hand. Lips brush my knuckles, leaving me quivering with desire before he and his brother march off for the castle together.

  Please, God… let that day never come.

  I hustle with Yivgeni to my next rendezvous. Szames and I didn’t make dinner plans. How far did I step across that line? I dismiss the thoughts as unimportant. There is a war to win, after all.

  Self-reproach, however, keeps me preoccupied as I complete the day’s business. Social failure is something I am accustomed to, but the familiarity does my self-esteem no good. It seems diplomacy skills were not included in the list of improvements in the transfer.

  Checking back in at my chambers about mid-evening bells, I find a royal squire waiting for me.

  “Milady, His Majesty, King Arturo asks that you join him for a stroll through the gardens at midnight bells,” states the teenager with a bow. His likeness to William marks him as an older brother.

  “It would be my pleasure.” With my brief words, he bows, taking his leave.

  Several marks later I arrive at what turns out to be a lush rose garden. I purposefully neglect to dismiss William and Keth as they amble behind me.

  “Your Majesty, I’m pleased you have found room in your schedule to meet with me.” I bow politely in greeting.

  “I might be old enough to be your father, Milady Reba, but on a night such as this, even I cannot resist the company of an enchanting woman.” His eyes sparkle in amusement. I discern no lust in his words, so I take them as harmless.

  “I am flattered, Your Majesty, that you find me so. Standing beside the beautiful flowers which you name wife and daughter, I feel unworthy of your notice,” I retort.

  “Milady, I applaud you.” Pausing, he indicates I should take a seat on the cement bench. “Never have I seen a more gracious return on an opening exchange. It seems my son was right; you do have a talent for wordplay.”

  “As much as I would love to explore this enchanting side of the prophesied one, I am afraid time limits us.” He assumes a seat on the bench next to me, but not close enough to invade my personal space. “Alex informs me there are additional matters?”

  “Your Majesty, let me start with my most trivial concern. Perhaps you’ve already heard? I was not born of noble blood, nor am I free to marry. I am already wed, as this ring symbolizes.” Holding out my hand, I display my wedding ring.

  “What a delicate masterpiece.” King Arturo seems undisturbed by my announcement. “Tell me: Do you have children, Reba?”

  “No, we have not been so blessed. But I cannot, in good conscience, leave behind the duties or the vows I have taken. As much as I have grown to love your world, I intend to return to mine with some of my men following the first campaign.” The monarch’s lack of surprise leads me to believe he has already been informed of such.

  “Your presence will be a loss felt throughout the kingdom, if that day comes to pass.” King Arturo acknowledges my statement but fails to take it as the certainty I have stated it to be. “I respect you all the more for holding to vows you have taken in the face of a more desirable option.”

  “The rest of my concerns can be rolled into one: the state of morale in the armed forces. On my world it is not uncommon to knight and title an individual with a land-gift when one performs a great deed. Is there such a custom here?”

  “Hmm, an interesting concept. Currently the sole way to obtain a title is through nomination in the rare case of an estate failing to produce an heir.” I perceive an internal chuckle before he continues. “I see no reason we cannot start a new tradition. The foes we face are intimidating, to say the least. The added incentive will increase the men’s hope. You are as intelligent as you are beautiful.”

  You don’t know the half of it. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I must admit, you took to the idea much more quickly than I believed possible. It seems my list of benefits is unneeded.”

  “Unneeded to convince me, perhaps. However, I am sure Alex and I will have a long night composing a list of our own for the council.” Knowing a polite hint when I hear one, I bid King Arturo goodnight. I take a few minutes to stroll through the garden before returning to my chambers for dinner.

  I eat alone in my bedroom after creating another pad of paper. By the end of the meal, I have completed the final force field adjustment along with five battle spells for myself. The latter of which I perform immediately so a keyword will be all that is needed in the coming conflict.

  Having had a very productive, if lonely, meal, I dismiss a tired-looking Crystal. The five of us have fortified the city, rearmed the military, and bolstered their medical staff, while I snubbed the crown prince and destroyed a friendship with his brother. Crawling into bed, I send up a silent prayer to God, who seems so far away, “Please let me get a full night’s sleep before my first battle.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Reba, I ask one thing from this meeting: another reality check.” Allinon opens the breakfast with a dismal but courteous request. “We are marching onto our first battlefield: I think a reminder that this is now real life—and real death—will be invaluable.”

  “Why don’t you start?” I give him a brief smile of approval.

  “Let me begin by saying that, Reba, I’m amazed at the job you’ve done. I didn’t think you had it in you. I’m proud to be part of this group.”

  False gratitude is shining in my eyes, he moves on to the business at hand. “As I said before, I’m separated from my wife. After what I’ve learned here about attitude, I have hope for my marriage for the first time in years. So much makes sense now. For this reason I will be doing my best to get through this war with my skin intact.” Allinon’s humble acknowledgment leaves us all speechless.

  Clearing my throat, I try to lighten the mood. “Well, it looks like you’ve outdone me this time. I don’t have another ‘Doublemint’ surprise to top that.” Surrounded by masculine chuckling, I struggle to think of something to contribute. “I thought I would conserve power by activating all my battle spells and letting my energy recoup over night. Well, I learned a valuable lesson: never activate a Conan spell the night before you need it. It is said that Arnold Schwarzenegger used to push Maria Shriver out of bed without knowing it, back in his bodybuilding days. With ten times his strength, I ripped my sheets to shreds.” When I get a quartet of disbelieving looks, I add, “Ask Crystal if you don’t believe me.”

  “Laks?” Charles asks my maid in Cuthburish.

  The look of exasperation she gives says more than my story did. The rest of the group laughs as Allinon glares at me. I discern fear stirring in the elf.

  “I don’t think that really counts. After all, this is a reality check
.” A fraction of sarcasm enters the druid’s voice. He hides it well, but he, too, is truly upset by this world.

  “The only thing I can think of to contribute is something you men probably would never dream of even thinking about. I said before, I have no kids. It’s not for lack of trying. My tubes were deteriorated by endometriosis. Since the damage was done back on earth, there’s a real possibility that I’ll never be able to have the children I’ve wanted all my life. I guess that’s another reason this prophecy is total crap. Me marrying the next king won’t be very helpful if I can’t produce an heir.”

  “Reba, why didn’t you say something sooner?” Jamison reaches out to take my hand, “With healing magic …”

  “No worries, J, with all that’s been going on since we got here, well, none of us needed another problem to think about.” I give him a brief smile. “Besides, I got those magic pills to try when I get back.”

  “Reba, that’s definitely not something that would ever cross my mind.” Charles’s joke falls flat. “Let’s see… facts… I’m gonna propose to my girl. Women of this world have been great, awesome, everything I have ever dreamed and then some, but I find myself missing the little things.” The ebony engineer shakes his head. “I can’t believe I miss her even more than my computer!”

  “Now that’s a shock,” Jerik’s voice grumbles into the silence. “I thought you were enjoying this bachelor’s dream of moral decadence. Me, well, my marriage has been screwed from day one. She got pregnant, we got married, and she had a miscarriage. We both have been too chicken to admit we made a mistake. By staying here, I’m helping us both out.” Straight to the point, Jerik is as direct as the hammer he wields in the smithy.