The window to her room had been draped with heavy dark-colored muslin, so the only light came from the candles placed sporadically throughout the spacious room. There was a chair next to the head of the bed, with a red velvet cushion on the seat, embroidered with the family crest of a dragon with wings of fire and breath of lightning. It was his mother’s handiwork. He could always tell what was hers by the neat stitching, and almost three-dimensional aspects to them. He sat next to her and leaned down to kiss her pale, fevered forehead. He saw the dark, malignant circles under her eyes, not to mention their glassy countenance and felt she would slip into the void before the next rising of the sun.
“Saerus?”
“I’m here mother, I’m here.” In spite of knowing he would be King before too long, perhaps before the day was out, he was still a young man who loved his mother very much and his heart broke to see her in such a state. He kept tears at bay with only the strongest of prayers and stroked his mother’s hair with a firm, delicate hand.
“I’m not a cat, Saerus, stop that.”
He smiled and withdrew his hand, placing both in his lap.
“Listen to me child, for I fear it will be the last we speak, and what I want to tell... no, I have to tell you is much.” She paused, coughed for what seemed to be an eternity, and genteelly spat into a flowered piece of cloth. She wiped at her parched lips and continued. “Before the new moon disappears, I will have joined your father, and you will be baring the weight of the crown.” Saerus tried to interrupt, but his mother held up a limp hand, motioning him to be quiet. “Son, part not those lips again. What has to be told is hard enough on my mind and body without having it broken with your youthful emotions. You’re a man now, Saerus, and have been since you were able to spill seed upon your bed, especially as frequently as you have. The time to be one mentally as well as physically has arrived. It is earlier than we may have wanted, but it is here, so please, sit there and listen.”
Saerus nodded and waited for her to continue. “I will be with your father soon enough and know that my heart aches to not see you live to old age. However, the Gods have plans for us all, so please remember that. You may not think you are ready to be King, and perhaps you may be right, but King you will be, and that will happen in spite of your readiness. I have met many a royal who studied for many moons and still, when the time came weren’t fit for herding animals, let alone a kingdom. I say you are ready, and that you will be successful. It is fortunate we are at a time of peace, as things will come easy.” Dinah paused and motioned for the goblet of water on the nightstand. Saerus got it, lifted his mother’s head a bit and allowed her to sip from the cup until her thirst was sated. When done, she continued. “If there ever comes a time for conflict, be unflinching and unyielding in your defense not only of your castle and position but of your people. They are truly what makes the Kingdom run. Do everything in your power to assist them. Not for the good of the Kingdom, but it is simply the right thing to do.
“There will be those who will not agree with your being King. They will whisper about you, and spread diseased falsehoods, hoping it germinates in the mind of others. Don’t let them know when the sun arises should they ask. If necessary, put them in the dungeon or be rid of them altogether.”
Ignoring what his mother had admonished him with earlier, he asked, “Why would they hate me? I’ve done nothing wrong!” No sooner had those words come out of his mouth when he realized why. All it took was his mother’s pained expression as she glanced at his hands subconsciously covering the dual protrusions.
“When you were born, you had two plows as you do now, yet you also had company in my womb, though you absorbed much of it, and as the midwife concluded that may have caused the deformity you have.” Eleanor could see he had questions but put a finger to her lips. “Some think you are a demon child who willingly ate your twin, and that what you have in your under things is a warning sign. Nothing could be further from the truth my son. You know that, and I know that. More importantly, everyone in the castle and kingdom know it as well. It was never my intent to let it be general knowledge, however, it was and is, and we–you- have to live with that, whether we think it’s fair of the Gods or not. They may try to take the throne from you-perhaps some in this castle. If that happens, show no mercy! They will not stop and ‘tis better to be rid of them than constantly worry.
“I’m sorry for all you now have to bare my son, yet I’m confident you will have the strength to endure. You are my blood, after all. Trust the Gods, ask them for assistance, and allow their wisdom to guide you.” Dinah paused once more, had one last sip of water with her son’s help, and continued with her final words. “Weep not upon my death, celebrate my life, and honor your father’s as well. Look to those who have guided you, my son. I love you more than you will ever know.” Saerus took hold of his mother’s hand and kissed the blotched and loosened skin. It felt cool on his lips and when he gazed up at her face, he knew she was gone.
The nation would mourn the loss of Queen Dinah for a full cycle of the moon. The castle windows would be draped in black. All but the essential businesses were given time off. The collection of taxes ceased for the duration of national sorrow. Her funeral would be attended by royalty from near and far. Her name dripped from the lips of peasant and noble alike. Saerus was stunned by the outpouring of love, respect, and simply how well-loved she was. He’dnever taken much of an interest in what his mother did as Queen, as it never really affected him. He did have his lessons to prepare him for his ascent to the throne when that time came, but as with many of the others, none thought it would be for a very long time. Her sudden illness came as a shock to all, and her even swifter death more so. Her body hadn’t even had time to cool when murmurings about Saerus’ ability to lead began to be whispered about within the castle halls. While not officially coronated, he was in command and made no delay in convening everyone involved with the running of the castle into the throne room.
“Today, we mourn the loss of our Queen, my mother Dinah. It seems not long ago we were all gathered to mourn the loss of my father King Haridon, and though that was many, many reaping seasons hence, the hole in our hearts is still fresh from his journey to the land of our ancestors. You had trust in our Queen then, and understandably so. Now, it falls upon me, to take the reins of Kingship, to be the steward of this land and people. Make no mistake, I have much to learn, but take me not for a fool, as it will be at your own peril. My mother’s wishes were to show a united kingdom, and it is my intention to do just that.
“What I ask is for simple courtesy, respect for the memory of my mother, and patience as I try to follow our beloved ruler. I am not my mother...”
Saerus was interrupted by a shout, “Your Mum had far more than two pricks, we know you’re not her!” There was a bit of uncomfortable laughter. Saerus said nothing but motioned for the Palace guard to grab the man, then waved them to the foot of his throne.
He stood and looked down at the man who not only dared to interrupt but then had the audacity to smear his mother’s good name. “Your tongue seems to be loose, let me help you with that.” He ordered the guards to force the man’s mouth open, as the future king grasped the tongue with one hand, and took a bejeweled handled knife from his boot with the other and cut the offending organ out. Blood spurted and splashed his face as the man squirmed and tried to scream. Saerus had hoped to make it fast, but the knife was dull, and it felt as if he was sawing through a tough piece of dinner meat. When it finally came loose, he dropped it to the marble floor and stepped on it. “To the dungeon with him. If he bleeds to death, so be it.”
Without waiting for the guards to exit, Saerus continued. “Is there anyone with anything else to say?” Saerus’ tone was calm and steady even as his blood curdled with the hot lava of anger and outrage. He stared out over the crowd of servants and guards. He made sure to make eye contact with each and everyone and made a note of those who didn’t avert their eyes in deference. He whispered in
a guard’s ear and continued. “I have no plans to change anything my Mother has decreed in the past. Her laws are binding and have served us well. If there is any disagreement with something I do in the future, I will listen to dissent. What I will not do,” he paused for effect and when he began again, his voice was cold and threatening. “is tolerate any words against the Queen.” As he said this, he wiped the blood off his dagger in a theatrical gesture to accentuate his comments. “That is not a royal decree, but a very personal promise. Those who think they can jest, as our dear friend the baker did, will find themselves in the same position. Is that clear?” In unison, his entire audience bowed their heads and murmured their assent. “This is not how I wish to start my rule, but I am a man of my word, as was my mother and father, and I will do what I say.
“However, right now, I need to grieve and will ask each of you for your assistance in order to make the transition as easy as possible. Not for me, but for Tularen, and for every Tularian.”
Saerus walked to the entryway to the left of the throne which led to the Royal quarters with two guards behind him. He stopped at the doorway to his own room and turned to the guard. “I did not see Kharisi. Where was he?”
Both guards looked to one another in feigned confusion. Saerus saw this and was annoyed. “It will not do you well to lie to me from the start. I asked a question and expect an answer.”
“Last I saw he was drinking at the Dancing Rooster.”
Saerus wasn’t surprised to hear this. While he liked the elf, perhaps was even in love with him, and though he did an admirable job as the Court’s only true Knight, his personal behavior had more than once inconvenienced and put family members in peril. “Tell him I will have a word with him and bring him to my chamber.”
Both guards nodded and left. Saerus unlocked his chamber door and closed it behind him. As he walked over to the window, he saw a figure sitting at the table underneath the opening.
“I’m so sorry for your loss your Highness, your Ma was a good woman and proper Queen. She will be missed.”
Saerus squinted: “Petram?”
The dwarf stood and bowed. “At your service, Your Highness. I, uh, took the liberty of using the secret entrance to come in. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
Saerus smiled. “No, it’s quite alright, I need to change my undergarments, anyway.”
Petram laughed, walked close to the young man, and offered his hand. Saerus took it, looked down at the dwarf and drew him closer for a hug. Petram, not being the hugging sort, allowed it with misgivings. “Enough your Highness, you may be on the cusp of being King, but you’re still a boy to me. And a boy whose ass I can whip on your dear father’s word.”
Saerus laughed. “I just cut the baker’s tongue out for speaking ill of my mother, I can certainly have the guards kick your ass for me,” he said with a good dose of humor.
“About the only way you could,” Petram added, before continuing in a more serious manner “I think you know why I’m here, Your Highness.” Saerus put up a hand to stop the dwarf.
“I’m Saerus, always have been. always will be to you. At least in private. Sit back down.”
Petram obeyed, and Saerus sat at the other side of the round table and put the small vase of flowers on the window sill. “If you’re here for more combat lessons, I think I’ve outgrown them,” he said with a faint smile. The dwarf moved his chair closer to the young man and leaned in to whisper.
“Your Mom wanted me to give you something,” Petram said, fumbling in a pocket of the vest he wore. “She never told me what it was other than a necklace, but I was bound to keep it safe until her, her... passing.”
Saerus held out his hand as the dwarf placed the silver rope in his palm with reverence. Saerus could feel it tingling, and he closed his hand around it, stood up and went to his bed. The headboard was of thick, dark wood, ornate with carvings of flora and fauna, as well as mythical beasts. He brushed his hand over one of those beasts and a small compartment opened on the top of the headboard. He placed the necklace inside and shut it until he heard a very faint click.
“Do you know anything about it?”
Petram shook his head. “Nay, your Mother was a secret keeper like no one I’ve ever known. I doubt anyone knows its history. Nor would I ask anyone were I you. You’re not quite safe as it is. People may see this necklace as something you’re not entitled to.”
Saerus sighed. “And so it starts, Petram. The secrets, the intrigues, the alliances. There’s far more politics going on within the walls than in all the world.” He slumped in his chair, as a shining tear formed in his eye.
Petram gave his smooth face a slap. “None of that shit Saerus. Your father would be ashamed to see you talk this way.”
Saerus frowned. “You’re right as always Petram.” He looked at the beardless dwarf and placed both hands on his shoulders. “I need your help, my friend. You’re the only one I can trust.” Petram looked down, made a fist and touched it to his chest.
“In your service always. My life is your King Saerus, you know this.”
Saerus nodded. “I do. And I also know I need to rest, come see me tomorrow we will have breakfast. I’m waiting on Kharisi, and once I speak with him, I hope to sleep for as much as I am allowed.”
Petram stood and bowed, then grabbed Saerus’ hand. “I will be at your side whenever you need me,” he then added, “And I have no doubt you will make a fine King. Your parents brought you up well, and you heed their words. There’s not much more anyone can ask of you.”
“Thank you, Petram, I will see you after the sun rises. Tomorrow will be a busy day. Your companionship will bring me needed comfort.” Petram did not reply but bowed and pushed a stone by the window, so an opening in the floor barely big enough to allow his girth through opened. He squeezed in, gave a short wave to the future King and was gone.
Once the secret door closed, Saerus stripped out of his clothes, laid on his bed and cried long and hard into the pillows.
3: Drunk Elves and Dancing Roosters
Kharisi was sitting in a back room of the Dancing Rooster playing a game of sticks, and as was his tradition, losing. The mead seemed to cause his hands to tremble as he tried to pick out a stick without disturbing any of the others. When sober, no one had a steadier hand, and Kharisi prided himself on that and his ability to pick locks without breaking any picks. It was not unusual for him to use the same lock pick for months at a time before it finally wore down. Even with his slender Elven fingers, which were longer than human, (and dwarves by an even larger margin), the alcohol simply made him shake enough to disturb the sticks.
“Bastard!” he shouted at the offending twig. Raucous laughter broke out at the table as Kharisi brushed all the sticks off the stone surface scattering them to a floor already littered with hay and sawdust. As he started to stand, or sway, he felt hands grab him under his armpits and haul him up.
“Come with us Cap’n, you’re wanted at the castle.” The elf struggled against their strong grips but was in no position nor had he the ability to break free.
“Do I look like I’m ready to go back to the fucking castle?”
“King Saerus demanded to see you.” One of the guards whispered in his long, pointed ear, which had a soft tuft of hair at the very tip.
“I care not a flying dragon fart if...” he stopped his faux outrage as what the guard said began to sink in. “King Saerus?”
“Yes, Cap’n. King.”
Kharisi looked from one guard to the other, hoping to divine a punch line for a poor joke, yet one look in their eyes told him a different story. “Then the Queen...” Both gave a slight nod in answer. The fight was forced from the elf like air from the blacksmith’s bellows. The guards sensing this let go of him, and the three of them walked out amidst a deafening silence, the likes of which the tavern and inn would never see again.
Outside, the night air chilled Kharisi in spite of the cloak and heavy wool leggings he wore. He climbed up on his horse, w
hich the guards brought with them, and they galloped away from the town and towards the castle.
Tulan, the capital of Tularen, was not only the largest of the cities and towns but also the oldest. It’s been said that it is also the largest of any city in the world, though that could be debatable, it was still, certainly impressive. Right on the southern coast, Tulan was originally founded by Elves and was for many centuries an Elven stronghold. With the Arnisian War, however, that changed. Though Tularen was the victor, the toll it had taken on its populace was devastating, with nearly three-quarters of the citizenry losing their lives. In an act of desperation more than anything King Haveron the Dreamer gave the appearance of showing no ill feelings and allowed anyone from Arnisia, or the neighboring countries to settle into Tulan with the offer of no taxes for a set number of years and a chance to have prime real estate for homes and businesses.
This caused an uproar among the survivors, and though they understood to not do so would mean certain doom for the city, it didn’t help the sting. It took many years to not only rebuild the city but to repopulate as well, but in time it began to regain its luster as humans, dwarves and elves lived together in relative peace.
The city itself encompassed the entire shoreline which was rounded like a crescent moon, for as far as the eye could see. Castle Tulan was situated in the middle, though quite far on the outskirts, that it took an hour of steady riding to reach its perimeter. The road between castle and city was heavily patrolled and one of the safest areas of travels known to anyone. As Kharisi and the guards rode hard going back to the castle, they were never in the dark. There was always the glint of a torch from a patrol, all of whom gave a slight wave as the three horses continued on the way to their destination.
Errors of the Flesh Page 2