To Make a King

by Kristi L Cramer

  Prince Sebastian was stretched out with his head in Lady Mari’s lap, his eyes shut in peaceful sleep. Lady Mari’s head was tipped back against the parapet wall, but she opened her eyes at his approach.

  “How long?” he mouthed, and she held up four fingers. Four hours, after five days without sleep. He needed much more. Jared nodded and, putting a finger to his lips, began to back up. As he moved, though, his boot heel scraped on stone, and the prince stirred.

  Jared froze, but the damage was done. Prince Sebastian opened his eyes and blinked in the dawnlight.

  He seemed confused for moment, looking up at Lady Mari, then over at Jared. “Hello.”

  Jared smiled. “Good morning, Your Highness.”

  “How long was I asleep?” he asked, beginning to sit up.

  “Not long enough,” Jared replied. “About four hours according to Lady Mari.”

  “Not long enough indeed. But I don’t suppose I’ll fall back to sleep now. What time is it?”

  “Six bells, Your Highness,” Lady Mari supplied, her voice sounding tired. Jared realized she must not have slept.

  Prince Sebastian halted his motion, still propped on one arm, leaning over her a little. “Lady Mari,” he said, so softly Jared almost didn’t hear. “You are patient and kind, and a most comfortable pillow to watch a star shower from.”

  She smiled, and from the look on her face, Jared wondered if he shouldn’t turn away. Blushing, she said, “It was nothing.”

  “I don’t believe that, and neither, I think, do you.”

  Prince Sebastian climbed to his feet and offered his hand to Lady Mari, helping her climb to hers. “Will you break your fast with me?”

  Blushing, she looked down, though Jared could see a smile on her lips. “I would like that, Highness.”

  “Then after we have all had a chance to wash up and change, that is what we will do.”

  ⇜⊂⊃⊂⊃⊂⊃⇝

  “I’m still not sure what to think of your young lady, Adam,” Aslynn said as they walked to the hall for breakfast. “What I mean to say is that she appears nice enough, but how can we trust in appearances when there is some kind of mystery menace out there threatening my brother?”

  Adam laughed. “I grew up with Mari of Dewbury, Aslynn. She is not menacing.”

  “Lady Rochelle told me—” Aslynn began.

  “I also grew up next door to Rochelle of Dewbury,” Adam interrupted, “and the only charitable thing I can say about her is she is inventive and persistent. Unfortunately for us all, she does not find positive uses for her gifts.” Aslynn raised an eyebrow at him, and Adam cleared his throat. “That is to say, she’ll say anything to get what she wants and she doesn’t give up easily.”

  “I see.”

  “Just give Mari a chance, Aslynn. She—”

  “Here they come,” she said softly. Then, louder, “Good morning, brother. Lady Mari.”

  “Good morning, sister,” Sebastian said, and Aslynn was pleased to see his mood was very close to cheerful. She smiled warmly at him and for the first time in days, approached to kiss him on the cheek.

  “You look well and rested,” she said, hoping looks were not deceiving.

  “It is amazing how a mere four hours of sleep can revive a tired man’s soul.”

  Aslynn nodded and closed her eyes, smiling in relief.

  “We were just going to get cleaned up for breakfast,” Sebastian continued. “Can Lady Mari borrow Melanie to help her?”

  “Of course,” Aslynn said quickly, gesturing for her handmaiden to come forward. “Whatever Lady Mari needs.”

  The young lady in question blushed and bobbed a quick courtesy. Melanie gestured for Lady Mari to precede her down the hall and the two of them departed. Sebastian followed, but paused to lay his hand on Aslynn’s shoulder. “Thank you, sister.”

  “You’re most welcome, brother.” They exchanged a smile and then he was off, heading for his chambers with a very relieved looking Jared in tow.

  Adam nudged her with his elbow. “What did I tell you,” he said, sounding more than a little smug. “She’s good for him.”

  Aslynn chuckled. “Very well, husband. I’ll allow that you may be right.”

  “May be?”

  “All right then, most likely. I suppose you’ll let it go to your head.”

  He just smiled and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

  In the dining hall, the guests had gathered, dressed appropriately enough for the day of meditation and reflection called for on this, the final day of waiting before the sunset coronation. Some of the young ladies, still hopeful of catching the crown prince’s attention, wore brighter colors, but nothing so garish as what had been worn at the wake.

  As Aslynn and Adam passed through the grand entry, everyone paused briefly to listen to the herald’s announcement, hoping Sebastian would enter behind them. When it was apparent he was not there, they went back to their talking and sipping tea.

  Aslynn was glad her twin would be putting in an appearance at breakfast on this of all mornings. It would do well to reassure the populace all was well with the royal family and that Sebastian would make a stable king. From the rumors Melanie had passed along to her, it was apparent some of the people were beginning to wonder if there wasn’t some curse plaguing the coronation.

  The rumors recalled the witch, Tawnia, and whispered she had returned for her revenge. They whispered the crown prince was going mad from some sickness that denied him sleep. They whispered how the convent had closed its doors on petitioners and patrons alike. They whispered of strange lights by the cemetery at midnight and ghosts in the halls of the keep. They whispered the return of the wanderer meant dire events were afoot.

  Adam seated Aslynn, then took his place at her right. “Do you smell the flowers? The staff has done a grand job decorating the hall, don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” she said, setting aside dark, foreboding thoughts to look around at the floral garlands strung along the walls, with the bright pennants of visiting lords hanging among them. “A grand job indeed. I only hope today lives up to such splendor.”

  ⇜⊂⊃⊂⊃⊂⊃⇝

  Meedo felt a change in the room—a drop in temperature, or perhaps an increase in air pressure—just enough to bring him up out of his contemplative trance. He opened his eyes to find a dark, smoky creature in front of him, close to the floor. As he watched, it resolved into a woman crouched on her haunches, eyeing him with her head cocked to one side.

  She was dark, like water at midnight, or the spaces in between the stars. She was unnatural to look at, and it was impossible to see into her eyes of black in black.

  “I thought I might run into you,” he said.

  “We haven’t had a run-in yet,” the dark one said, standing up from her crouch in a single fluid movement. “But your reputation precedes you, oh wanderer of the high seas. Did you think you could come here unnoticed, Meedo?”

  “On the contrary, I was drawn here, and you and I both know why.”

  She began prowling around the room, and Meedo followed her with his gaze. “Oh yes. The tempter of fate, doomed to sail on and sail on, never calling one port home, solving mysteries until the day you die. What was it again? You made a wager with a mermaid...”

  “Water elemental.”

  “...that you could solve her mystery before she could solve yours.”

  “And I did.”

  “And you did, whereupon she cursed you with immortality and put you, a land creature born far from the sea, onto a magical boat, taking you forever away from your home.”

  Meedo sighed. “That about sums it up.”

  “But there is no mystery here, wanderer. This affair is a game of succession.”

  “The players are a mystery to some of those involved. You, for one—”

  “I play as my summoner bids me. And deep in the sea brat’s heart, he knows who that is. So there is no mystery.”

  “And what’s in it for you?” Meedo queried, still w
atching her prowl the room.

  “The same thing that is always in it for me. Souls.”

  “And when there are no souls for you to take?”

  “Then innocent lives do nicely. The more the better.”

  “Like all the slaves lost in the shipwreck twenty years ago? Like the wet nurse and her daughter?”

  The dark one turned to Meedo and actually licked her lips. “Stop it, you’re making me hungry.” She laughed. “I eat their innocent existence as it passes like a child eats sweets, and while I cannot claim it for my own, the knowledge that their death was by my design is a taste I savor.”

  Meedo shook his head. “It will be happy day on earth when the last of the likes of you are struck down and rendered powerless.”

  The dark one laughed. “I will never be powerless. My strength only grows.”

  “Not for much longer.”

  The demon hesitated for a moment.

  “Perhaps you have not noticed it yet. The change is still very slight.”

  “What are you babbling about, fool?”

  “You’ll sense it soon enough. Magic is dying, and you and I with it. Oh, it will take hundreds of years before it dies completely. But think how few practice magic even now. Think how many are turning away from the Ley, forgetting its true potential. Soon enough, there will be very few who know the secrets and rituals, and fewer still who actually believe. And when the last believer is forgotten, then you shall die a lonely death, dark one.”

  ⇜⊂⊃⊂⊃⊂⊃⇝

  Maudette narrowed her eyes, sensing Truth in Meedo’s words, and not liking it. “So then will you die, wanderer. You may have been born mortal, but you are a being of magic now.”

  “Oh, I will die long before that happens. I have seen it.”

  Smiling, Maudette raised her hands. “All this talking almost made me forget that I had come here to fulfill that prophecy. You will die now.”

  “If my reputation has preceded me, then you know I will not fight you,” the wanderer said.

  “Then you will die that much quicker.”

  She watched with satisfaction as his body flew against the bookshelf with enough force to dislodge several items, sending them crashing to the floor.

  With difficulty, Meedo climbed to his feet, and Maudette braced herself for a counterattack that never came. Laughing, she hit him with all the mind-force she could muster, hard enough to pin his body for several seconds where it struck, some three feet off the ground. He hung like a tapestry nailed to the wall, then crumpled in a heap on the floor.

  “Your reputation exceeds your reality. I had hoped you would put up a decent fight.” The man didn’t move. “Or at least entertain me with your death.”

  With a flick of her wrist, she sent another blast of mind-energy against his broken body, and it shook with the force of it, but there was no living response. She could sense no presence in his mind, no life force. The old wanderer had just died. No fight, no fuss, no fireworks. Hardly what she had expected from the renowned Meedo.

  Suspecting a trick, Maudette probed again for signs of life, but again found none, neither in his body, nor mind.

  He was dead.

  Disgusted, she spat on his still figure and vanished.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Though she had done little more than sponge herself down with a damp, soapy cloth, the cold water rinse revitalized Mari so that now, as she whirled before the mirror, she felt as though she’d had a full night’s rest.

  “It’s lovely, Lady Mari,” Melanie told her, smiling at her in the mirror.

  “I’ve never worn anything so fine,” Mari said, turning this way and that. The gown was silk, a midnight blue shimmering with tiny stars in the light from the casement. The cut was simple but elegant: long sleeves puffed above the elbows cuffed with black lace, wide skirts opened in front to reveal a petticoat of black silk, a squared neckline scalloped with lace high enough for modesty, but low enough to reveal the tiny silver crucifix on a silver chain around her neck. “Do you think it’s too much?”

  “On the contrary, Lady. The dress could have been made for you.”

  “Oh, it’s far too elegant for a baron’s daughter. I’m sure Princess Aslynn fits it much better.”

  “The princess has never worn this gown, Lady, except to fit it. She complained it was too constricting. I had thought she might wear it for her brother’s coronation, but she chose something different.”

  “She won’t mind, will she?” Mari asked, disappointed to think she might not get to wear it, then aghast at her audacity to even think such thoughts.

  “She won’t mind,” Melanie assured her. “Princess Aslynn is very serious when it comes to her freedom of movement, and she made it very plain she could not tolerate the confinement of this gown. I should have known better, I suppose.”

  Mari was about to question Melanie’s remark when they heard a knock on the door, followed by Prince Sebastian’s voice. “Are you ready, my lady?”

  “How do I look?” Mari whispered urgently, turning to look one last time in the mirror, pulling at her curls.

  “Just grand,” Melanie said. “Prince Sebastian will not be able to keep his eyes off you.” She crossed to the door and opened it, curtsying low. “She’s ready, Highness.”

  Mari curtsied low as the prince entered the room, and when she looked up, she saw a pleased smile on his face. His gaze met hers, and the smile deepened. “You are a delightful vision.”

  For once, she didn’t feel herself blushing at his compliment. She smiled in return and curtsied slightly before saying, “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  He extended his hand, and she crossed the room to take it. “Shall we, my lady?”

  They walked arm in arm down the passage to the Great Hall, with Jared and Melanie following at a respectable distance.

  “I had a dream,” Prince Sebastian said.

  “A good one, I trust,” she said, wondering why he would tell her this now.

  “I dreamed of a boat, and I was sailing off into the wide open sea.” He turned his head to look at her briefly. “I wore no crown, no badge of office, nothing but the simple garb of a common sailor.”

  They reached the grand entrance to the Great Hall, and Prince Sebastian leaned over and whispered to the herald standing at attention. Then he turned and caught her gaze. “You were there.”

  Before she could respond—not that she had any words anyway—the herald rapped his staff sharply on the floor three times, and all conversation in the hall ceased.

  The herald drew in a deep breath, and announced in a voice that rang clearly throughout the room, “His Highness Prince Sebastian, and Lady Mari of Dewbury.”

  All eyes in the room were drawn to her before the echoes of the announcement died away. Mari could feel her face burning intensely with a blush. She didn’t think she had ever had so many people looking at her at once.

  Mari wasn’t sure she understood all the ramifications of this moment. She was sure there were more political nuances in announcing their names together than perhaps even the prince understood. But in the immediate social arena, Mari could feel the jealousy emanating from the other hopeful young ladies. It wasn’t until she saw the look on her mother and sister’s faces that she realized the extent of trouble her family had in store for her. Her mother’s expression was pure fury, but Rochelle’s face...there was nothing but hate in her eyes.

  The silence continued as they entered the room, and Mari belatedly realized that breaking her fast with Prince Sebastian meant sitting with him at the high table. She tried to casually slip her arm from his, but even as he loosened his grip, he turned to look at her.

  In his eyes she saw only strength, which he seemed to be offering her. Even if she took a seat at one of the lower tables, Mari knew she could not take back the association people had now made between her and the prince. And as she gave it more thought, she remembered the lesson so recently learned: the only reality that mattered was the one she held in
her own mind. And her reality knew she had every right to take her place beside the prince. She had earned his respect and friendship, and he had asked her to join him.

  Mari smiled. Prince Sebastian smiled back, and she let him guide her to the seat next to his at the high table. Whispers began buzzing as he pulled the chair out and adjusted it for her when she sat. She did her best to ignore the stares and speculative whispers, focusing instead on the presence of the prince seating himself beside her.

  Princess Aslynn leaned forward to say something to her, but her words were drowned out by the most curious sensation. Not any sound, but rather a pressure surrounding her. It was a moment before she realized the others were feeling it, too. Everyone in the room, in fact, seemed to be responding to this silent weight.

  The sensation was not unlike the physical motion brought on by the earthquake five days ago, only there was no physical motion today.

  ⇜⊂⊃⊂⊃⊂⊃⇝

  The sensation ceased as quickly as it began. Sebastian was just about to comment when it struck again, this time with such intensity, people put hands to their heads as if they could somehow release the pressure bearing in on them.

  In that moment, Sebastian felt an even stranger sensation, one he could not have described had he been asked. It was a sort of crowding, or duplicity of thought. He didn’t know how he knew, but in his mind, he was certain of one thing: Meedo was in danger.

  He stood abruptly, startling everyone in the room. “Aslynn, Mari, Adam.” His voice, though quiet, sounded loud in the silent room. “Come with me.”

  Without waiting to be sure they followed, he withdrew from the hall as a third event staggered him. He headed for the study, where they had left the wanderer in his meditation.

  “What is it?” Aslynn’s voice was fraught with concern and fear. Sebastian wished he had an answer for her.

  They hurried through the passageway, arriving at the study door to see the guard posted outside had collapsed, a look of agony twisting his features. Adam knelt down and put his hand over the guard’s mouth to check for breathing.

  “Nothing,” he said.