The Servant Crown: Ice Dragon Tales, #3

by Hurri Cosmo

  His father laughed, but it sounded sad.

  It was more likely Tama simply imagined it.

  The days passed swiftly after that, and spring became summer. Tama’s days were full; he was far too busy to discuss a departure time with his father.

  “After I get the crop in, father. Wait for that at least.”

  “I need to take care of the weeds, father. The crop will most surely die if I don’t. Give me a few days.”

  “The sun is too hot to take the boy out. We need to wait for a break in the weather.”

  And as the months and then years flew by, the baby grew. Tama named him Aydin, which was elven for “prince,” something Tama’s father was unaware of. He just seemed happy to be able to call the child by other than “Kelay’s boy.” Soon Aydin was sitting up and “talking,” calling Tama “Papa” and Beourn “Boppa.” Thankfully, Aydin was eating solid foods now, and Tama was able to allow his father to once again sell the cow’s milk, making him very happy. It brought a small amount of coin into the house, coin Beourn fiercely guarded in a jar somewhere in his bedchamber.

  And as always, Mrs. Bustress, Elven Port’s wealthiest resident, was their best customer.

  “I just had to come by and see Aydin’s beautiful blue eyes again, Beourn. Already over two! They grow so fast! Quite the looker he will be when he grows up. I’ve been telling everyone that!”

  “Yes, Mrs. Bustress. I believe so, too. Now you said you wanted all the milk?”

  “Go to bed, Tama.” Tama’s father told him one evening after Tama had finally gotten Aydin to sleep. Tama was bone-tired from the constant stream of responsibilities that his father heaped on his shoulders. He had not slept well in too long, keeping an ear open for Aydin. The boy had bouts night terrors and Tama needed to be there to calm him. His father couldn’t be called on to help, either. Not only because of his laziness, but because, sometimes, Tama had the thought Beourn believed the child was cursed. Rare was the time when he would even touch the child, much less hold him or comfort him.

  “Yes. I plan on it. Is there any supper for me?”

  “Alas, boy, I am sorry. There is only a crust left of the bread you made. Here.” He handed a nice-sized chunk to Tama who was grateful to have anything at that moment.

  “Thank you. But I am surprised. There has to be meat from the rabbits we caught in the traps, no? And what about the turkey I was able to shoot with my bow and arrow?”

  “Ahhh, yes. I will cook all those up tomorrow, and you can have as much as you want. I will even rise early and make a hearty breakfast of cakes and eggs.”

  “Cakes and eggs? We have no flour for cakes, and I thought you sold all the eggs once again to Mrs. Bustress when she came by the other day.”

  “Yes, I sold her most of the eggs, and in return, she gave me flour.”

  “You saved eggs for us this time? Well, then! I will most assuredly look forward to a grand breakfast before I begin my day. What a treat that will be! I can hardly wait. Thank you, my father.”

  His father had grinned then. Actually smiled. Looking back, Tama should have known better. It had been the first time since before Kelay had claimed to be pregnant from a powerful king that his father had spoken so politely to his only son. The first time in a very long time he was offered any form of kindness. Oh yes, he should have been on the alert. For when Tama awoke the next morning, concerned he hadn’t been roused in the night by Aydin, he discovered the baby and his father gone. The cradle was empty, his father’s bed never even slept in. All the food had disappeared, and their one and only horse, Rego, was missing as well.

  “No!” Tama had whispered into the early dawn, his heart in his throat. How long had his father been planning this; begging for Tama to hunt this past week, even after he had been successful with the traps? How had Tama slept through them leaving? He usually slept so lightly. But the chores had been enormous and endless and last night, right before Tama trudged off to his loft, his father had even shared a small bit of his ale. Could his father have raided his healing herbs pouch and concocted a sleeping potion? Again, how had he missed it?

  And how would he catch up to them? They surely had at least a few hours head start. But even if they had only a single hour, it would still be impossible. They were on horseback, even if Rego was slow, and Tama was on foot. Except it didn’t matter. He had to catch up to them before his father gave the baby away to the King of Blade Rain.

  Tama quickly rummaged through the cottage to find anything his father might have left that would help him on his journey. He rolled up a change of clothes in his sleeping bag along with his flint, a small ax, and a beat-up old pan. He next grabbed his knife and his bow and arrows, hoping to take down at least some small prey by the time he laid his head down tonight, seeing as his father left him no food at all.

  His stomach growled, and he cursed his father for lying to him. He had fallen asleep with the thoughts of filling his stomach this morning. Not going hungry yet again and chasing off to rescue his child.

  Yes. His child. Aydin was his. The little tyke was only two years old, but he made Tama’s life so bright and happy. Giving him up to a total stranger, even if he was a king, wasn’t an option. He looked forward so much coming home to those little arms that would wrap powerfully around his neck. And he simply loved covering that cherub face with kisses.

  “Papa home!” his little voice would sound out.

  “Oh yes, my big boy. Papa is home.”

  “Tico, tico!” and Aydin’s little fingers would “tickle” Tama wherever he could reach.

  Tama’s heart would swell each time with great happiness at Aydin’s energy. He couldn’t help but take the time to play with him, even when Tama was dead-tired from the day, tickling him and making them both laugh. Often to the dismay of his father.

  “You’re spoiling the lad. He needs to be taught life is full of work and pain, not laughter.”

  Tama cringed at his father’s constant berating of him, although he wondered whether Beourn knew much of work anymore. However, if anyone knew those harsh words were truth, it was Tama.

  “Still, being the lad will soon be sitting at a king’s table,” his father continued, “he just might escape such things. Speaking of which, when are you going to do what I told you to do years ago, now, and take the child to the Castle Blade Rain? You have been able to avoid this subject for long enough. The weather is once again becoming unpredictable. Another number of weeks and it may become impossible to move through the Gray Mountains.”

  “Father, why speak of this again? Aydin is happy here with us, is he not?”

  But he had known the old man was not going to let it go, knew the lure of imagined gold they would be offered in return was too strong. Why had he not heeded those thoughts? Why had he not done exactly as Beourn had done: taken the child, the food, and Rego, and strike out on his own, leaving his father to pitch and moan all by himself?

  The final thing Tama took was a pretend rabbit Tama had made for Aydin out of leftover white rabbit fur. He had fashioned a body and head with long ears and even managed to blacken the fur where the eyes and nose should be. He stuffed it full of dense moss, aromatic herbs, and specially dried forest gatherings. In fact, the reason he even chose to make a rabbit was he had found a lone Rabbit Rose, its bloom long gone, but the aroma still heavy. He pulled as many leaves off the craggy plant as he could without harming it and dispersed them throughout the stuffing. Then he laid the rabbit in the moonlight seven times, inviting the protection spirits to enter, invoking them to keep the bearer of the rabbit safe from all evil. Aydin loved the thing and even slept with it every night. Beourn had, of course, rebuked Tama for wasting his precious time with the project. But when Tama saw how Aydin took to the talisman, he beamed at his father.

  “See? The boy doesn’t think I have wasted my time.”

  “He is only a child! He has no mind to understand the responsibilities of an adult. You are daft if you accept a mere smile as payment for
your foolish labors!”

  Still, that was exactly how those smiles felt for Tama. And the smile was always there for him, no matter what it was that Tama did, even for just the act of coming in the door after a long day.

  Those little hands and knees would carry him immediately to Tama. “Pay, papa, pay?”

  “Oh yes, my sweet Aydin. Of course, papa will play.” And they would bounce the rabbit around the floor pretending they were a rabbit family in the deep wood. Aydin would squeak his enjoyment and hug the fake rabbit again and again. Kissing it as often as he would kiss Tama. It was no surprise his father would leave such a happy thing behind.

  Tama looked over the field of alfalfa as he readied himself for departure. He had been thinking to begin the harvest soon. After keeping what he deemed he could for their own horse and cow, he fully intended on trading the rest for needed winter supplies, including seed for the following spring. He had even thought of negotiating for a pair of new boots, having patched and repatched and re-repatched the boots he had on. But he doubted he would ever be back here to this place. He would stop in town and tell Mr. Olson at the feed mill to send someone and take in the harvest instead. At least someone would benefit from it. Maybe tend to the chickens and their one lone cow, too.

  If his father ever returned—well, he no longer cared.

  Tama turned toward the south and hurried in the direction of Castle Blade Rain.

  Chapter 2

  Rumors, tall tales, and gossip. Diagus should have known better than to listen to any of it. Certainly, not to the point of actually believing. But he had to admit, it was more him wanting to accept the rumor as factual than truly trusting that it was. It was what caused him to hop on his horse without a second thought. He huffed. Kings did not do that. Not that the Blade Rain guards weren’t already used to royals running off, disguised and unprotected. Except Diagus’s “disguise” was hardly much of a cover. In fact, he hadn’t changed at all. At least he didn’t go galloping off with a crown still on his head.

  He chuckled to himself as he mounted his horse and turned for home. He honestly hadn’t taken the time to come up with any costumes as clever as Joron’s had been. Somehow the man had been able to fit right in, dressing himself up countless times as a peasant and then that one time even as a princess. Diagus certainly didn’t mind dressing below his status as king. But dress as a woman? He shuddered. No. That would never do. The fact he had to marry one to produce an heir, due to the Blade Rain kingdom having to continue into the future, was getting close enough to a woman.

  Too close in his opinion.

  He groaned. He would have to marry soon. Maybe even on the eve of his return. He knew the designated princess was already in attendance at Blade Rain Castle and waiting to meet her soon-to-be husband.

  Princess Annen Novou was from the southern kingdom of Thunder Wolf. The two kingdoms, Blade Rain and Thunder Wolf, shared a border and for centuries fought over territory. Now, suddenly, King Lexand Novou was willing to draw up a treaty. Insistent, actually. He would stop pushing the borders and killing Blade Rain people if Diagus would take his daughter as bride and queen and, oddly enough, produce an heir within the year. Why the king of Thunder Wolf was interested in making sure Blade Rain had an heir was beyond him, but since it was also supposed to be his top priority, he agreed. Diagus had no doubt the discounted use of Ice Dragon Pass through the Norborne Mountains would eventually be another item on the table. However, for the moment anyway, it looked like just Diagus, and an heir, were the desired payment.

  An heir. Yes, it was needed. But, oh, how he wished.

  Why couldn’t men become pregnant? Why? But—damn—they couldn’t. He knew that intimately. He had been extremely generous with his essence for years, and not one of his partners had ever announced they were with his child. Not at all like his father, King Oxys, who had run around doing the same thing with women and then ended up forbidding frequent pregnancies to continue.

  Oh, yes, he had heard those evil rumors as well. He had even heard how the late king had prevented the pregnancies to continue. Poison. If it didn’t kill the pregnant woman, it would surely kill the child within. Diagus was sickened by such behavior. Especially from a king. Of course, it was just rumor. But knowing there was always some truth in every rumor—well, that’s why he had ran off, hoping that the report of there being another with his color eyes…

  Stupid.

  The reason was, he simply wished there was something else he could do to get that heir. He certainly wasn’t going to do as his brother, Joron, had done, when he was King of Blade Rain for all perhaps a week at most. He wrote in the royal books that Diagus had the “true blood” of the king rather than continue with “Amar” blood, something Diagus had absolutely none of. But doing something like that had been, and continued to be, incredibly risky business. Even though Diagus had trained all his life to be king, having believed he was the firstborn son of King Oxys Amar, it turned out King Oxys wasn’t his father after all. Diagus’s mother had had a secret affair of her own with some lowly duke, a man never identified, and Joron was the only living offspring, making him the real king. But Joron wanted to move to Claymoor Doom and be with the love of his life, King Aric. As jealous as that had made Diagus, he could not deny his brother happiness. Plus, being the true king was heady.

  Yes, intoxicating…

  However, adopting some random child and writing that in the books as okay was not something he was going to do. It would call attention to the fact it had already been done on his account and that was a secret better kept than shared. A secret he would now take to his grave—for Joron; Joron and his true love.

  So very irritating.

  Joron, his brother, had found his soul mate and it hadn’t been Diagus. Of course, they weren’t really brothers, not by blood anyway, but Diagus still lost Joron to another. Diagus was doomed to be alone because he would never trust his heart to fall in love again. Not after it had been ripped out by Joron and that big stupid Aric. And then, being charged with providing an heir as a “first priority” was rubbing salt in that wound. That was why over two years had already passed since the crown had been placed on his head, with no heir in sight. Even his sister, Liarta, had already given birth to a wonderful baby boy and was on her way to producing yet another. Diagus had even half considered naming Nathye, Liarta’s firstborn, as his heir. But it couldn’t be done. The boy had an even smaller amount of royal blood, being Liarta had a father, again unidentified, who had been even lower in status.

  Obviously, Liarta had no idea King Oxys was not their father. She knew nothing of the newly penned “law” in the royal books that now designated Diagus’s blood as the royal blood. It had been a deliberate decision not to include her in the sordid affair. She didn’t need to know such things. Not when she was in love and finally with her most cherished of sweethearts, as well.

  Even so, Diagus dearly loved his nephews. He even considered King Aric’s son his nephew, since he and Joron were married. But his new nephew was an incredibly adorable child. It was the very reason he agreed to meet with the king of Thunder Wolf and hear what he was so frantic to propose. Providence of the Moon, where his sister and nephew lived, was far too close to the border, and King Lexand had made it clear it would fall to him if Diagus didn’t do as directed.

  What was hard to accept was the very fact the man could do it, too, so when there was a possibility that the matter could be settled amicably and without bloodshed, Diagus had to listen.

  Diagus had been, however, taken back with what King Lexand suggested. It wasn’t that such agreements hadn’t been reached before. It just seemed so out of place to Diagus. To leave no door open to any other settlement arrangement was simply unusual. However, as the offer had stood, it had given Diagus that needed encouragement to finally do his kingly duty, and that was attractive indeed.

  Or at least, it had been at the time.

  Because now there was this rumor. Obviously baseless. There was no rea
son to trust it to be true. But to be told there was someone running around in the Gray Valley area that had eyes as blue as Diagus’s was too tempting to ignore. Was it a man? A woman? If it was a man, could it be Diagus’s long-lost father? Or, heaven help him, a real brother? Was there someone out there with his blood that would be, could be, an heir to the throne, thereby relieving him of the obligation of having to produce one himself?

  It was worth pursuing.

  But he found nothing. Not in Dark Marsh, not in Elven Port. Of course, he didn’t ask every citizen if they had seen a “blue-eyed” man or woman. Just the bartenders and innkeepers. He figured they would be the ones to know. There had been a few residents pointed out to him, but they were not “Diagus blue” eyes. In fact, quite pale in comparison. Not even the correct shade.

  Which was just fine. He would have no way to explain such a thing anyway if he had found that person. It was why he had run off by himself without notice or an entourage. Because to have brought witnesses to his madness would raise far too many red flags. This way, no one was the wiser and they all would simply believe the king was out sowing his royal seeds—again—before having to marry and settle down to impregnating his new bride. Which, of course, was another thing. Even if he had found this blue-eyed person, he was still under contract to marry and produce an heir with the Thunder Wolf princess.

  He shivered again.

  This was the only time he looked at being a king in any kind of negative light. Having to make a baby, knowing what he would have to physically do, was making him slightly nauseous. There would be no more delays once he returned. It was written in the ancient bylaws, the crown prince needed to carry not only the blood of the king, but the very blood of the one who stood by his side, slept in his bed, shared his life. Which was yet another reason this crazy chase after some random blue-eyed person was just that. Crazy. Because there was only one way Diagus knew something like that could happen.