Saerus shrugged. “Perhaps he is, though I have heard he dwells on the border to the Scorched Wastes, which is where I am sending Kharisi, and perhaps others, but I need you to find out more about where he may be. Tis a long stretch to search blind. And not a very safe search at that.” Saerus looked down, his lower lip began to tremble as he thought about the possibility of losing two people he considered as important at least as his own father. Had the circumstances not been so dire, he’d never think of sending anyone, let alone his two most valued allies, yet, as Saerus saw it, there was no alternative at all.
“Where do you expect me to find anything out? I know nothing of Druids or magic.”
“You know people, Petram,” Saerus countered. “People who know things many don’t. I’d expect a good start would be at the Grand Library of Bernholdt. A place your family has had ties to for a long time if I’m not mistaken.”
“I've not spoken to my kin in an age, Saerus. You’re aware of that. If I went into Bernholdt as I am...” his voice trailed off as he touched the bare skin of his face. Kharisi was almost touched by that small gesture and the urge to say something reassuring occurred to him. It was the promise of 100 gold pieces that stilled his tongue.
“I understand Petram, and I’ve spoken to Todrick about a remedy to that, and you’re to see him at once. Then you are to make preparations for your trip. I want you to leave today and need you back no later than 8 nights from now. Is that understood?”
Petram nodded, though he wasn’t sure he could at all. The dwarf stood, gave a bow and walked towards the mages keep. Saerus turned to Kharisi and studied the elf. Thoughts to the previous night’s escapades had danced through his head since he awoke, and only by sheer will and concentration was he able to avoid any embarrassing displays of his members rising. Saerus had always admired Kharisi and his independence, and only as he got older and grew into his manhood, did he understand what that admiration was; a mixture of love and lust. The fact he may be sending him to certain doom broke his already fragile heart.
“As for you, Elf,” he said in a playful tone. “you will be staying in the castle until you depart.”
Kharisi sighed. “Do you not trust me to behave?”
Saerus looked him straight in the eye and said “No.” He then hastened to add, “You will, however, occupy the most comfortable bed in the kingdom, with the most powerful ruler of the known lands.”
At the mention of this, things clicked into gear for Kharisi and his face turned red up to and including the tips of his ears. “Saerus, do not fall in love with me, I will break your heart as I’ve done to countless others. I do not want to do that to you.”
“Then don’t,” Saerus said rather curtly. “Perhaps it’s time you stopped putting barriers up for everything in your life. Young, you may be for an elf, but you also have a very long life to contend with, and very few could do it alone.” He almost added, if anyone could it would be you, but decided to keep that to himself.
“Saerus, you have other things to concern yourself with, not the least of which is your mother’s funeral and your coronation. I will go and retrieve some items, but I will stay because I want to, and not because you asked. That bed.... that bed is enough to lure anyone into your hands. Perhaps I can use that to get the Druid to help.”
Saerus laughed a bit too hard, though it was hard not to overdo anything when his heart leaped with joy at the idea of spending time with Kharisi. “Go then, and get your belongings, I’ll have one of the guards bring you to the Inn on a wagon.” Before Kharisi could even reply, Saerus added, “And no, that is a direct order, and no getting around that.”
“You are going to be a formidable King, Saerus,” Kharisi said. He stood, bowed and took Saerus’ left hand in his own and gently kissed the fingertips. “I will return in time for lunch.”
Saerus beamed and broke out into a grand, tooth-filled smile. “I look forward to that, Kharisi. Make sure to stop at the tailor in town, he will provide you with the finest set of clothes for the funeral.”
“You’re too kind, and so I shall.” Kharisi walked away, leaving the soon to be King alone in his thoughts.
Those thoughts were not very pleasant, nor were they completely his own. He had shown Kharisi the protruding appendages but had held back he was able to hear his twin thinking as well. He tried to communicate with him, but either he couldn’t or he was being ignored. No matter which, what Saerus had heard chilled his blood. He could feel the hate and bitterness course through his body as well as hear it. The profanities and perversions that spewed forth would make the strongest of men ill, and Saerus had to do everything he could to keep the voice at bay.
Saerus, never one to believe in the mythology of gods, closed his eyes and prayed to all those he knew for help and assistance, even though he suspected his pleas would be falling on deaf ears.
5: Goodbyes
In spite of Saerus’ insistence that he leave immediately, Petram refused to depart until after the funeral. “A few hours either way won’t make a difference,” he told Saerus.
“Not that you’d do anything differently if it did,” Saerus said as he finished putting on his finest clothes. He continued glancing out the window and then looking to the door of his chamber waiting for Kharisi’s return. He’d been gone hours, and Saerus’ worry was now turning to anger. “Seems no one can honor a simple damned request.” Saerus slipped on shoes made from leather and died a dark blue. There were small tassels that adorned the sides made from fine golden filaments. “And where is that damnable elf?” He shouted so unexpectedly, Petram jumped back a few feet.
As if on cue, however, there was a familiar knock on the door, and it began opening before Saerus could get a word out of his mouth. “That damnable elf is here, Your Highness. The tailor had a problem with my inseam and it took a while for him to accommodate it.”
Petram scowled and went to the window to feign interest in the cloudy sky.
“You look stunning Kharisi, like the leaves turning color once the air chills..”
Kharisi beamed. He’d chosen a dark brown fabric with hints of subdued autumnal color because he knew not only did Saerus favor those hues, but they were a personal favorite of the Queen as well. The elf’s golden hair was pulled back in a freshly washed ponytail that resembled, and was almost the length of, a well-groomed horse’s tail. His alabaster skin shone fiercely, highlighting cobalt eyes, and when he smiled, Saerus was blinded by their ivory perfection. The clothes fit like a glove, and in spite of the tailor’s alterations to the leggings, there was a noticeable bulge in the fork. “I hope you approve,” Kharisi said, his voice low and melodic.
Saerus could only nod and was glad he’d taken the precaution of wrapping a hidden sash around his own members so they were flush with his stomach. Had he not, his pants would have resembled a tent. His own outfit was a deep purple that bordered on black. It was made from a piece of velvet fabric and was painstakingly brushed to make it smooth as possible. The white shirt he wore underneath a jacket was crisp and closed at the neck by a ruby pin. Saerus’ normally wavy brown hair was straight, and with a part down the middle, and combed to the side. More than a bit of pig fat was used to maintain this effect, and while it wouldn’t last very long, he was happy with the result.
Petram, on the other hand, was steeped in military gear. He wore a uniform that had obviously not been taken from the closet in many years, (judging from the ill fit.) Many ribbons adorned his chest, and the battle gear while sharp-looking appeared out of place in comparison to Kharisi and Saerus. If this bothered the dwarf, he showed no sign. He turned from the window and looked at the two with a mix of disgust and jealousy. It was very obvious to him that there was more between the two than they let on, whether they were trying to hide anything or not, was a mystery to him, but he’d seen enough love-struck couples in his time to know the expressions. Even Kharisi, as stubborn, crude, and drunkenly as he could be, was capable of feeling love.
“Well if you
boys are ready, we have a Queen to say fare thee well to. You can admire yourselves later with the other peacocks, parrots, and prats.” Without another word, he walked past them and strode out of the room and down the stairwell. They could hear his boots stomping all the way down to the final step.
“Dwarves,” Kharisi said and rolled his eyes. Saerus laughed, took Kharisi’s hand, and kissed each fingertip.
“Let’s go, before I ride you harder than that dwarf on a pony,” Saerus said. Kharisi followed, and they started for the throne room where the procession would begin.
“You seem to be doing quite well, all things considered,” Kharisi noted.
Saerus shrugged. “You do what you have to do. Sadly, this is a moment I’ve had to prepare myself for since I was a small boy, I simply never expected it to come this soon, nor the other issues.” He motioned down his chest to his stomach, though his companion knew what he meant. “I have a kingdom to think about as well, and need to show my best side.”
“True enough.”
They stepped into the Throne room, and Kharisi took his seat with Petram standing to Saerus’ right and Kharisi on his left. The candles which illuminated the entire area were dyed black, as was the satin sheet covering the Queen's body, which was laid within a glass case that would be hoisted onto a wagon and driven through the main part of Tulan. Todrick, the court wizard, as well as Petram, moved in front of Saerus, and read the edict which would start the coronation process. He watched as Todrick took the crown from the Queen’s body with great reverence. He walked up to the throne and asked Saerus to get on one knee.
“This crown has been on the head of every ruler from time immemorial. It has accrued great wisdom, compassion, and justice. May it serve as a reminder to you King Saerus of your obligations to the kingdom and its people.” The crown was then placed on his head, and though it didn’t quite fit, it was on enough so that it wouldn’t fall. Once he stood, there was a roar from those assembled, which was heard outside and created a ripple effect of having others cheer as well.
Kharisi and Petram acting as pallbearers stood at the front of the glass coffin and hoisted it, giving a bit of a comical look as Petram had to hold his hands above his head. They walked slowly into the courtyard where the waiting wagon draped with the Queen’s favorite flowers and pulled by her favorite horse. They slid her body into the back, and the procession started to move.
The weather proved to be near perfect. Not a cloud in the sky and a fat, full moon bloated with light seemed to shine down on them all. Saerus walked in the back of everyone, feeling alone and letting the truth of the night to seep in. There would be no more hugs and kisses, no more meals prepared by her hand. No more stories read at night, No more kisses on scrapes and cuts, or a mother’s love defending her son from the monsters under the bed when he was little. He’d never smell her perfume or freshly soaped skin. He would no longer hear her soothing voice other than in his mind. Everything he would miss seemed to hit him like a dozen arrows and the tears started to come. There were only a couple at first, but as they marched on, and he had to look at the end of the coffin, there came several more. Not quite a flood, but enough for those who lined the streets and walkways to get a glimpse of the coffin to see them. He tried to keep them at bay, but when you’re barely a man and you lose your mother, the one person closest to you, it was a near impossibility to keep them dammed up for long.
A murmur began to flow through the bystanders, though if Saerus had to interpret it, it was more sympathy than anything, which he was glad for. Things were going to be difficult enough without having the populace questioning him. There would be enough of that inside the castle. The wagon came to a stop, and the coffin was transferred to another sturdier wagon, for the long trip along the coast. When the trip was completed, her body would be brought back to the castle and interred with the other rulers in the Chamber of the King’s. While she certainly wasn’t the first Queen, nor would she be the last, it was still a patriarchal society, and referring to the final resting place as anything other than with the word King was never a thought. The two rows of three men turned and began their return to the castle. Rather than stay in back, Saerus joined Kharisi and Petram in front, and they stood close together, as a show of brotherhood and kinship.
While his private coronation had already taken place, there would be a public coronation as well, once the period of mourning had concluded. This was a tradition that went back as far as the first rulers, at least from what Saerus could tell, and though he wasn’t sure of its benefit, now would not be the time to change things.
As the town limit proper faded from sight, the seven men broke form and began conversing quietly amongst themselves.
“Twas a nice sendoff Saerus, she would be pleased.”
“She would probably be more pleased to not have been in it,” Saerus said with a bit of bark.
“I will run ahead if it’s all the same and start my trip. I will be back as soon as I can Your Highness.”
Saerus gripped the dwarf's shoulders, the blood-stained leather under his bare hands felt smoother than it looked. “Thank you, my friend. I will see you return with good news in a week’s time. May the road be free of rocks and sand.”
Petram nodded, and took off, surprisingly fast for a dwarf, and in a moment he was no longer in sight. Saerus put a hand to his chest and could feel something else starting to form and hoped Petram would be quick.
Saerus felt he was running out of time.
6: Bernholdt Beckons
Petram would never have thought about returning to his homeland had Saerus not ordered him. He made a detour to the castle to see Todrick as he was instructed, and that only served to put him in a fouler mood. While he knew other dwarves were adept at magic in various forms, it was something Petram never had an interest in, preferring to handle his problems with the sharp end of an ax. There was something intrinsically untrustworthy about manipulating nature and energy to achieve the same ends that his blade could. Certainly, there were things he couldn’t do with his blade, like grow his beard back as Todrick was supposed to help with.
Aside from his visit with the magic wielder, he also had the stable hand ready a pony for his journey. On foot, he would never make the deadline that he’d been set, though if he were truly honest he might not make it even with a pony, but it seemed to better his odds. As he jogged through the courtyard, he found the stable hand and the wizard waiting on him. In a stall was a rather forlorn-looking pony saddled up.
“Todrick, didn’t expect you here,” Petram said.
“I had a bit of an explosion in the Keep and needed to air things out.” He said with a bit of a bemused tone. The light green robe and cowl he wore buffeted in a wind that seemed to be picking up. “But, I have what you seek.”
Petram arched a vast furry eyebrow. “I wasn’t seeking anything, I was told to come see you.”
“Oh,” Todrick said with an air of disappointment. “Well, as it happens, I have an elixir that will prove most useful on your journey.” The court mage pulled a vial of a reddish liquid from what seemed to be thin air and handed it to Petram. The dwarf took it and studied it as best he could with what little light there was. Ominous clouds were moving across the sky partially blocking the moonbeams. “Drink this before you step foot into Bernholdt, it will create an illusory beard. But know that it will last only 3 risings of the sun before it disappears.”
“That’s it? Just three days? What if I have to be there longer?”
Todrick waggled a finger at him. “Then you would have some explaining to do.” Without another word, smoke started to come out from under his robe, enveloping him in an instant, and with a soft poof! sound, disappeared. Petram stepped back a bit, and the stable hand nearly crawled out of his skin.
“My horse ready?”
The stable hand nodded. “Everything is packed up and ready.”
Petram reached into a pocket and pulled out two gold coins and gave them to the stable hand. “M
y thanks to you.” He said and went to the stall which contained his horse. He placed the vial in a pack on the horses back, careful not to break it, and with a bit of effort climbed up on the mare. It wasn’t a full-grown horse, but nor was it a pony, it was however about as perfect a specimen that Petram could hope for. He nudged the horse in the ribs gently and she started moving, seeming to know where to go without being prodded.
Petram thought he could get to Bernholdt within a day, and to Dernheld, the capital city, and where he was born, within two days. That gave him a little over the three days that the elixir would last to get things done. If he had to depend on finding information in the library, he knew it would take far longer than what he could afford. His best hope as he saw it was to talk with Kiandra BrightJade, his former fiancé. The thought of seeing her again filled him with a fear that not even a dragon could instill.
“Alright girl, let’s get a move on, best to get this finished as soon as possible.” The horse’s ears twitched, and she promptly went into a gallop, with Petram guiding her ever so gently with the reins. As the castle became smaller and smaller, and the lights from town growing dimmer, it was not long before Petram found himself alone on a road barely traversed headed to a destination of unknown consequences.
Saerus flopped onto his bed, exhausted, the day’s activities finally taking a toll on him. He pulled off the ruby pin that kept his shirt closed at the neck and placed it on the table next to his bed. Kharisi sat on the edge, pulling off his boots. And placing them towards the wall by the head of the bed.
“Very tiring,” he said, and Saerus murmured an agreement. “How are you Saerus? Are you okay?” He stood and removed the vest and shirt he wore, walked to the table with two chairs beside it and slung them over one of the chair backs. He undid the fasteners on his leggings, pulled them off and laid them on top of the other clothing as well. He turned to go back to the bed and saw Saerus laying against the headboard, pillows propping him up. The flames from the candles pirouetted, casting odd shadows on his youthful face. Kharisi caught his breath, seeing the beauty of Saerus in a new light. He strode over, lifted himself up onto the soft mattress, and laid next to the newly crowned King. He placed two fingers on Saerus’ cheek, turning his head toward him, and looked into his eyes. “You are truly majestic Your Majesty. Why you should desire the affections of such a dishonorable elf as myself is beyond my imagination.”
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