by Hurri Cosmo
Chrisanti looked back toward the carriage, then hurriedly at Diagus. “No, Your Majesty. There isn’t enough room. But the water does not appear to be deep alongside the road. Perhaps up to my waist.”
“Appearances can be deceiving. I would prefer none of us enter the water. So, push the damn thing into the swamp.”
“Your Majesty?”
“You heard me. That’s an order. Push the thing over into the swamp and get it out of our way. And be quick about it.”
“Yes, Sire!” He turned and shouted out orders to the four other men on the path who proceeded to dismount as well and head for the wagon.
“Sire, do you really mean to ruin a perfectly good carriage? Especially one from another kingdom?”
“While I do not care that a woman perceives the need for such luxury and privacy when traveling, I do take issue she feels so entitled and privileged that she simply walks away from it when it becomes a burden.” He glared at Stomund, whom he wasn’t used to questioning him on anything, much less a direct order. “It isn’t I who ruined it, Stomund. It is the inconsiderate lout who left it in the middle of the road, believing they had a right to do so. They do not. Even a princess. Not without consequences. Besides, I am a king on a mission. That takes priority, does it not?”
“Of… of course, Your Majesty. Forgive me. I… meant nothing by my inquiry.” Diagus saw him take a hard swallow. “I was actually attempting… a jest.”
Diagus sighed, realizing he was obviously on edge. “Very well.” He cleared his throat. “You are forgiven.” He grinned at Stomund who looked white as a sheet, then turned his attention to the five men using brute force to move the coach. If the princess had been using this as a deterrent, trying to keep other parties from proceeding, she should have turned the coach around. By leaving the heavier portion of the carriage on this side, his men could easily tip the thing from behind without stepping into the water.
Yet, surprisingly, the water wasn’t deep, just as Chrisanti had said. Certainly not as deep as Diagus believed. When the coach tipped over to its side and slid into the swamp, it only sank up to about midway.
But the scream that followed its sinking sent shivers up his back.
“What the hell was that?” Diagus shouted to Chrisanti. “I thought you said there was no one inside!”
“There wasn’t, Your Majesty! I swear it!” Diagus watched as Chrisanti headed for the water and upturned coach. Then he figured it out.
“No, Chrisanti! Stop!”
But it was too late. The man had already leaped into the water, wading toward the carriage door. But as he was reaching up to unlatch the door, Chrisanti moved suddenly, and unnaturally, to the left. His eyes widened as he turned to face Diagus, his mouth in a large O. No words, no scream, he didn’t even fight. But Diagus saw the water around him turn bright red right before Chrisanti was pulled under.
Two more men dashed to the edge of the swamp as if they thought they could still save him. Diagus flew from his horse, shouting to stay back from the water. “It’s a trap! There is no one in the coach. There never was. And Chrisanti is… he’s gone.” Diagus watched in horror as the swamp bubbled where Chrisanti had disappeared, the red dispersing and spreading.
The two that would have gone in after Chrisanti looked back at Diagus. “Was it an alligator, Your Majesty? A…a …swamp rat?”
Diagus shook his head. “I don’t know. But whatever it was is smart enough to try to lure you into the water.” Diagus tipped his head as a buzzing noise began to fill the air.
“Sire,” came a whisper from Stomund, who had dismounted as well and was standing behind him. “Do you hear that?”
“How can I not? What is it?” He covered his ears as he scanned the area.
“I have no idea. But it’s coming, whatever it is. And I think we need to leave before it gets here.”
“So do I. Mount up! Let’s move!”
“Sire!” one of the men shouted. “What about Chrisanti? We can’t just…leave him.”
Diagus swung into his saddle. “I’m sorry. There’s no help for it. If we don’t get out of here now, we may be joining him. Now, move!”
The rest of the men scrambled to comply.
Thankfully the path, although very narrow, was still dry and solid as they thundered away from the overturned carriage and toward Dark Marsh. They were maybe only an hour behind them now. The problem was, Dark Marsh was only a half hour away.
Chapter 9
Black pondered the death of Red. Even though it had been long ago, there were times she couldn’t help but think of her. Like when the wind blew in from across the marsh, bringing with it an odor of decay. Such pain Red must have suffered, only bits and pieces of her left floating in the bog.
Stupid woman!
But that’s what happens when one sets out to deceive another.
Black sighed. She supposed she shouldn’t be angry Red had betrayed her in the end. Black had expected it. In fact, what she should be angry about is the fact it was the same woman who ended Red’s life that had ended Silver’s.
Erora. Queen of Blade Rain. Mother of Diagus. Lover of Mormir. Bane of her existence.
Evidently, the woman had had some inner strength Black underestimated. Fortunately, the wicked woman was dead now. Had been for years. Not by Black’s hand, of course, which was too bad. But Erora was dead just the same, having jumped to her death from her own castle walls. At least the woman was unable to cause Black anymore problems.
But without the influence of her sisters to enhance her, Black had been left pretty much powerless. A “witch” only in name, relying on the properties of her collected plants and the superstition of the public to believe her lies, their stupidity to sustain her.
They had needed an offspring of DinRau, and that had been Mormir. Had she known at the time Erora was pregnant with not only Mormir’s child, but his firstborn son, she would have done things differently. She would never have sent Red.
There was no doubt Red must have known Erora was pregnant. She had to have known by whom. But Red had kept that knowledge hidden, just like Silver had kept secret the fact Mormir was DinRau’s descendent, until it was too late. Supreme power certainly did corrupt because Red must have planned on keeping all that power for herself. Perhaps she would have eventually even sought Black’s demise.
It had been easy for Red to weave her spell around the lovesick duke, forcing him to blackmail his skinny mistress, the Queen of Blade Rain, into providing coin and court prestige. Back then, Black laughed at such trivial things, knowing there was no real gain in it for her or her sister, other than to punish Erora for Silver’s death and drive her into becoming a blithering idiot. But all that boldness had an unfortunate side effect.
Erora killed yet again.
And this time the greedy queen not only killed Red, she also killed Mormir and that was a problem.
Left with little power and with both of her sisters dead, Black had to wait until she could weave some other plan into action. Thankfully, there was another known descendent to weave a spell with.
She had kept an eye on Diagus as he grew, but he was well guarded so she could do nothing. Oh, she kept herself busy with all kinds of small incantations, luring healers with assurances of amazing cures from her “magical” plants. Using tiny amounts of her precious limited nectar, she kept herself from weakening any further by taking life essences from those same healers she offered miracles, sucking what energy she could by casting her Blackdog spell on as many unsuspecting buffoons as she dared.
She sighed, remembering her few attempts to entice Erora to her, in hopes she would bring the child. But Silver had obviously taught the queen well in the art of poisonous plants. The queen had become an expert with no need for Black’s only gift left to her.
And then she discovered the King of Thunder Wolf was truly in love with his wife. She didn’t need incantations and enchantments to lure that woman to her. All she needed was to promise to use her nonexistent �
��magic” to turn the child the Thunder Wolf Queen carried inside her into a male. The mother of eight girls was all too willing to believe Black. She was thrilled to finally provide her husband with an heir for the Thunder Wolf throne. It had been too easy. One simple sleeping potion later and the pregnant woman was her prisoner.
The only infuriating thing was that the woman was young and beautiful. It was a huge distraction, and she found herself wanting to use that final bit of enchanted nectar to suck all that youth and loveliness into herself. She had had a very lucky recent experience, almost a year ago, now, doing that very thing with a woman who had just given birth, that bar whore, Kelay, in Elven Port. Happening upon something like that had been very advantageous, and it had given her incredible energy, health, and vitality with just a touch of the nectar. What would she gain by sucking the life essence from a woman about to give birth? It was a strong temptation.
Which was odd, because that kind of thing had never been an enticement for her. However, she could understand now how her two sisters fell victim to the lure.
But Black was all about power. Youth and beauty would come later.
Because, now, the King of Thunder Wolf was in the palm of her hand, ready to do her bidding. His reward? His wife returned, alive, awake, and untouched. He wasn’t happy about it, but it hardly mattered. To survive, Black needed that descendant. And now, she would finally have him.
The offspring of King Diagus.
Lexand had only to marry off one of his many daughters to Diagus, then bring their firstborn son to her. Could it be any easier than that? Yes, she could employ men who could kidnap and bring Diagus to her. Risky, probably even impossible. But, additionally, since this was her last tiny bit of nectar, the amount would work better on an infant than on a full-grown man. Plus, the effect from a baby would last far longer, as well, and that was necessary. Not to mention, there was a strong possibility that as she cast her spell on the infant, it might capture the father as well.
The nectar, a main ingredient in the only magic she had left from her days of true power, came from the every seventy-five year bloom of the Rabbit Rose. It was essential she could stay alive, and actually have power, when that time came around again to collect the nectar, still almost twenty years in the future. And an infant would make a young, healthy, long-lasting branch of power.
Yes, it was all Lexand had to do. However, Black would still need for DinRau’s lineage to continue. That meant Diagus would need to provide more males. And to do that, it would be necessary to have Diagus under her total control.
No problem for a powerful witch.
However, for a weak one like she was now? Impossible. But facilitating that chain of events would have to come later. Right now, she needed to concentrate on making sure she even had a later.
Oh yes, soon she would be back to her normal powerful self. When she was once again invincible, her strength returned, she would weave a strong spell that would guarantee her a blue-eyed DinRau brat every nine months for eternity.
Oh yes. Very soon now.
Chapter 10
“Who are you?”
Just the sound of the old witch’s voice sent shivers up Tama’s back. It could have been his imagination, but he thought he saw a tremor race through the princess as well.
They had come into Dark Marsh quietly, the path finally widening out again, the swamp receding and becoming marshland. The princess had no idea where to go so they wandered around for a good hour, trying door after door, asking for the witch named Black. Tama had trouble believing no one knew of her. But with each failure to find her, they rode deeper into the marsh. The farther in, the more gnarled the trees became, the air increasingly dank and thick, the sounds more animalistic and desperate.
They finally stumbled upon an old dilapidated structure that seemed a step out of reality. It shimmered and crackled as if it was made with ancient dying magic, trying to hold on to a facade veneered over unrepairable walls. The voice came from off toward the right, but there was no witch to be seen.
“I…I am Princess Annen Novou. Who are you?”
“I am magic.” The harsh whisper resounded and echoed all around the small group on horseback, drawing gasps from the soldiers, their horses stomping hooves and snorting their discomfort. Tama wrapped his arms tighter around Aydin.
“We… I am looking for a… a witch who goes by the name of Black. Are you she?”
“I am Silver as moonlight, Red as blood, and Black as midnight. What do you want?”
“I am here to release my mother, Queen Ariope Novou, who you hold as a prisoner.”
“There is a price,” came the cackling reply of the still unseen witch.
“I have it.”
Silence. Tama’s heart raced. This was it. He had to make a move. He had to escape. He wasn’t sure what he would do when and if he got back to the carriage in the road. He had visions of his steed leaping right over it and taking them to safety. He whispered to Aydin to hang on tight as he reached for the reins still being held by a soldier, who, however, was very distracted by the sinister-sounding witch. He felt confident he could pull the piece of leather free of the man just as he kicked his horse into motion.
Unfortunately, the horse was slow to move. As predicted, the soldier had only a loose hold on the reins, so they slipped quickly from his hands, the man barely even noticing. But the horse became confused and scared so when he finally was going in the correct direction, it was already too late. His way was blocked by the other soldiers.
“Hang on there, lad. Where do you think you’re going?”
Suddenly, they were all blinded by a bright flash of light.
A gnarly old woman stood in front of Tama’s horse, looking up first at him, then her gaze wandered to Aydin and she smiled.
Her teeth were sharp and black, and her breath hissed through them as she came closer, walking up to the side of the horse, reaching out to rub Tama’s right leg with bumpy fingers. Tama recoiled and tried to move away, wanting to scream with horror, but those fingers grabbed onto his pant leg and, surprisingly, held fast.
“Who are you, my sweet?” her high-pitched voice sang.
She didn’t recognize him. He had been out in the fields that day, the day Kelay died. But he recognized her. The midwife. The one who helped to bring Aydin into the world. Oh God. Was that the reason Kelay had died? Had this woman stolen her life right out from under them all? Why had they trusted her? She had seemed so supportive and knowledgeable, but she hadn’t been there to help. Not at all. Oh, poor Kelay, she wasn’t there to help you!
She was eyeing Aydin, her other hand reaching up as if she could grasp the child. Tama turned away as best he could, still unable to break her hold on his pant leg or with her stare. Aydin began to whimper.
“I asked you a question, boy. Tell me who you are.” Gruffer now, her voice sent a shiver up Tama’s spine.
“He is Tama of Elven Port. No one important,” the princess called out. “But the child he holds is the firstborn son of Diagus Amar, King of Blade Rain.”
The witch’s eyes grew large, and the smile widened as she gasped. “Is this the truth? This is a descendent of DinRau?”
DinRau? “No!” Tama choked out, finally finding his voice. “This child is mine. I am his father.”
“Let me see the child,” the witch demanded, her voice harsher yet. “Let me look at his eyes. I will know if he is good payment for the Novou woman.”
“No! Please stay away!”
Tama tried to turn the horse. He needed to get this witch to let go of him. Knowing something was very wrong, Aydin’s whimpers had turned to screaming and crying, and he clung fiercely to Tama’s neck. The princess was maneuvering her horse closer for some reason, maybe it was to try and stop Tama from running, but her horse did not like getting that close to the witch. It reared, dumping the princess to the ground. In response, one of the soldiers leaped off his horse to help the princess, another tried in vain to stop the now-frantic, p
anicking horse the princess had been riding, and two others tried to move out of the way. In the chaos, no one noticed a new group of horsemen join them.
Suddenly, there was a large man on a horse between Tama and the witch.
“Your Majesty?” Tama whispered.
Diagus turned to Tama, leaned over, planting a kiss on his lips, then came away with a wink. “Looks like you need to be rescued this time.” He turned to face the witch. “Keep your filthy hands off my son and my man. There will be no deal had here today, old woman.”
The old woman tipped her head back and laughed. “So you think, Diagus, son of Mormir. So you think.”
The woods moved then. Six, seven, ten, maybe even twenty or more trees pulled up their roots and lumbered toward the group. Bumpy, gnarly, sick-looking masses of trees came at them, startling Tama and his horse who proceeded to do the same thing the princess’s horse did. The animal threw both Tama and Aydin to the ground, the fake rabbit twirling in the air above them as they went down. Tama pulled Aydin close to shelter him from being injured. However, the fall jarred Tama to the point his head was spinning. He heard Diagus call out to him, but in the bedlam the clearing had turned into, he could no longer see him.
Suddenly he was hit from behind and a blinding pain rocketed through his head. Try as he might, he couldn’t hold on to Aydin, who was ripped from his hands. Tama heard Aydin scream as he scrambled to his feet, fighting off the deadly sharp branches of the monster trees. It had been the witch, that wretched midwife. Somehow, she had gotten to Tama through the mayhem and grabbed Aydin. She was running now, deeper into the marsh.
Tama kicked out but knew there was absolutely no hope of getting free. Were these horrors from a nightmare going to kill them? Or did they have teeth like those grotesque fish and Tama was going to make a hearty meal?
Suddenly, Tama was face-first in the dirt, a pressure coming down hard on his shoulders. But right there near his left eye was the rabbit. Its fur was glistening in the light, standing on end as if it were full of the sparks from Tama’s hair.