Hansel and his men reached the entrance to the King’s private dining chamber. It was here that he had been told he would find the Royal Family. Few lords and ladies visited court these days. Most of the nobility had returned to their homes to protect their families and serfs from hungry drakmere. Thus, it was a rarity for the family to eat in the dining hall, preferring instead to dine in private. The doors to the room were closed and standing on either side was a royal guardsman gripping a long lance.
The guards saw Lord Hansel and his men approaching and Hansel feared briefly that they would interfere with his seeking an audience with Edward. To Hansel’s relief and surprise, however, neither guard interfered. Instead they opened the door for Hansel with a smile and a respectful nod.
“Good evening, m’Lord,” the guards said in unison as he stepped past them. Clearly, they were men loyal to the true crown of Elophborne, likely handpicked by Edward. Hansel nodded his thanks and motioned for his own men to wait outside as he entered the dining room.
Edward, who was seated at the head of the table spied Hansel first and began to smile, before realizing that if Hansel had come out of hiding the news must not be good. To Edward’s right sat his mother, Griselda, and to his left sat his younger brother, Prince Geoffrey.
“Good evening, Uncle,” Edward said somberly, causing Griselda and Geoffrey to turn with surprise to see Hansel.
“Good evening, Edward,” Hansel said, but he was staring at Griselda. Her eyes darted back and forth from her son to her brother-in-law.
Geoffrey leapt to his feet and rushed to Hansel with boyish glee, throwing his arms around his uncle. “I am so glad you have returned, Uncle Hansel,” Geoffrey said. “I knew Her Majesty would forgive you and allow you to return to us.”
Hansel frowned down at his nephew. “I am afraid that is not the case, lad,” he said causing Geoffrey to pull away and take a few steps backward.
“What do you mean?” Geoffrey asked, clearly confused.
“I don’t think Anne is in any position to allow or disallow anything,” Hansel said before his eyes shot to Edward. “I have received news from King Erec in Avonvale.”
Griselda stared at Hansel. “King Erec?” she asked, perplexed by the title.
“Yes,” Hansel replied. “Erec and his men have retaken Avonvale. He wears the crown now. As he should.”
Griselda’s mouth dropped open in surprise as she turned to see Edward smiling broadly. Then her eyes leapt to Geoffrey as she heard him speak.
“But what of Empress Andalynn?” he asked, the concern evident in his voice. “Is she alright?”
Hansel’s eyes shifted to Geoffrey. “All that I know is that Anne has fled Avonvale.”
Geoffrey breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the seraph,” he smiled.
“I doubt the seraph had anything to do with it, lad,” Hansel said. Then he swallowed hard. “Perhaps you should show a little more concern for your own sister.”
“Yes, what of Ella?” Griselda asked.
“Did she flee with Her Majesty?” Geoffrey asked.
Hansel looked down at the floor and shook his head. “No, she did not,” he said through a cracking voice.
Griselda’s hand went to her mouth. “Erec did not arrest her did he?” she asked. “Surely he wouldn’t…” Hansel looked up then and Edward saw the tears in his eyes. “Well?” Griselda demanded.
Edward turned to her. “Shut-up, Mother!” he said firmly before turning back to Hansel and rising to his feet. “Tell me Ella is alright, Uncle. Tell me she is alive.”
Hansel wiped his eyes as Edward made his away around the table toward him. “I am sorry, Edward,” Hansel said as Edward reached him. He held up the piece of parchment upon which Erec had written and Edward snatched it from him, his eyes needing to read the letter for himself.
As Edward read, Hansel turned to Griselda. “I am sorry, Griselda,” he said softly.
“No,” she whispered.
Edward looked up from the paper. He turned to his mother. “Erec says that Duke Andrick killed Ella because she had abandoned Anne to go to Erec.”
“No!” Griselda cried.
“That’s not true,” Geoffrey said confidently, causing Edward to turn to face him.
“It is true, Geoffrey!” Edward snapped. “Your friend Andrick slit your sister’s throat right in front of Erec.” Geoffrey shook his head back and forth as he stared angrily at Edward and Hansel. “Your darling Empress had our sister murdered!” Edward shouted.
“Lies!” Geoffrey shouted defiantly. “Erec is a traitor and a liar! He killed Ella out of jealousy that she was to wed King Morgan and I swear on my honor he shall pay!”
“Geoffrey,” Griselda said softly as she rose to her feet and held her arms out for her youngest son.
“No!” Geoffrey shouted angrily. “Erec is a liar!” With that, Geoffrey turned and bolted from the room.
Griselda stole a quick glance at Edward before chasing after her baby boy with tears pouring down her cheeks.
Edward watched them both leave and stared after them for a long moment. When he finally turned back to face his uncle, Hansel saw no tears nor any sadness in his eyes, only rage.
“I want to clean Elwood out. It is time to kill all of the draks.”
Chapter 7
The throne room at Avonvale was filled as throngs of subjects sought an audience with the newly crowned King Erec. Men, women, and children—dressed in nothing but tattered rags due to hardships under the terror of the drakmere—crammed inside. Most of the nobility was absent. Many of them had chosen to hide in their fortresses far from the capital city instead of attending court with the Wizard and Anne. Those that had attended court during the Wizard’s rule were mostly now in hiding, fearful that Erec would execute them as traitors.
Erec sat upon the throne looking very dashing and royal despite the fact that he was dressed plainly in a white shirt covered by a brown jacket and matching brown pants. He smiled down at his subjects, attempting to keep an expression of peace and comfort, even while listening to their tales of woe at the hands of the drakmere.
To Erec’s left sat his cousin, Lady Sephene Greynault, dressed modestly in a high cut gray dress and acting in the role of Queen. Erec had requested that she undertake the duties the Queen would normally attend to until the return of Terrwyn. Sephene was happy to agree. The suggestion that Erec be married and choose an actual queen was never brought forth.
Standing on Erec’s right was Lord Galt—formally Sir Galt—whom Erec had not only bestowed a title upon, but had also named Commander of the Military Forces of Avonvale. Galt stood tall and proud wearing the blue tunic and cape of Avonvale.
Erec watched as the next subject, a local cobbler, was called forth. The cobbler stepped forward along with his wife and three lovely daughters, who all appeared to be in their teens. All five of them knelt down before the new King.
“Thank you for hearing me, Your Majesty,” the cobbler spoke somewhat nervously.
“Of course, Master Cobbler, but I bid you and your family please rise,” Erec said with a gentle smile. The cobbler and his family did so, standing before Erec and Sephene, but all the while keeping their heads bowed respectfully. “Please, tell me what I might do for you,” Erec said.
The cobbler paused for a long moment as he twisted his hat in his hands nervously. “I-I come here to beg for justice, Your Majesty,” he said.
“What kind of justice do you seek?” Erec asked inquisitively.
The cobbler’s eyes rose to briefly meet those of the King before once again falling to the gray stone floor. “Justice for my daughters,” he said through a cracking voice. “For what was done to them.”
Erec swallowed hard. He did not want to ask the next question, but he knew he must. “What was done to your daughters?” he asked softly. The girls began to sob before their father even spoke and they held their mother and each other tight.
“I-I would not wish to give details in the presence of the L
ady Sephene, Your Majesty, but the short end is that the city guard of Avonvale performed unspeakable acts upon them while that Dark Bastard and his wicked Queen ruled Avonvale.”
Erec heard Sephene gasp and turned to see a hand over her mouth. She looked at Erec and he squeezed her hand gently. When he turned back to the cobbler and his family, Erec’s face was no longer calm and peaceful. A rage burned in his eyes and his jaw was set tight.
“Do you have any names?” he asked the cobbler.
“Only one, Your Majesty. Lance Corporal Toddson often led the others in their depraved acts. Though I would certainly recognize the faces of any of the others.”
Erec’s eyes found Sir Ganesh—formerly Lance Corporal Ganesh— whom Erec had not only knighted, but made Commander of the City Guard of Avonvale. “Sir Ganesh, I want this man brought before me to answer the cobbler’s complaints against him immediately.”
“Your Majesty, if I may speak plainly,” Sir Ganesh asked with a bow of his head.
“Of course,” Erec replied.
“The cobbler and his family may rest easy knowing that justice has already been served on Toddson, Your Majesty.”
“How do you mean?” Erec asked.
“He was one of the men Sir Terrance had stationed in the towers the night Your Majesty retook Avonvale.”
“Ah,” Erec said as the rage faded from his face. “So he is dead then?” Erec asked, wanting to clarify for the cobbler and his family.
“Yes, he was beheaded, Your Majesty,” Ganesh replied. As he spoke the words, Ganesh heard a murmur as the crowd parted to allow the seraph who had just entered the hall to approach. Ganesh turned to see her and then turned back to Erec. “Beheaded by General Aura, Your Majesty.” He then turned back to Aura and nodded at her with a smile. She returned the pleasantry.
Aura’s eyes then rose to Erec, who was beaming happily now at seeing her. She smiled back and they stared at each other for a long moment. “Erec,” he heard Sephene whisper beside him calling his attention back to the matter at hand.
Erec turned to her and she nodded to the cobbler and his family. “Yes,” he said as he turned back to the cobbler. “As you can see justice has been served to the utmost of my ability. Obviously I can never return to your daughters that which was stolen from them. However, if you recognize any of the others that participated in these monstrous acts, you are to report them to Sir Ganesh immediately.”
The cobbler bowed low at the waist. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said.
“No need for thanks. I am just sorry that such evil men were allowed to roam free in my absence.”
As the cobbler and his family left and the next subject was called forth, Erec’s eyes once again shot to Aura. Sephene noticed this and laid her hand gently upon his arm. “Go and speak to her,” she whispered as she leaned in close to his ear.
Erec turned to Sephene. “No, I must attend to my subjects.”
“I can take care of that for a little while,” Sephene said.
“I appreciate that, but…” Erec began, but Sephene interrupted him.
“As long as she is here, you will be distracted. Our people deserve undivided attention,” she smiled. “Go.”
Erec returned her smile. “Very well,” he said and rose to his feet and then turned to address the crowd. “I must speak with General Aura for a moment. However, the Lady Sephene shall remain and continue to hold court in my absence.” With that, Erec bounded down the steps of the dais and motioned for Aura to follow him from the Throne Room.
***
Erec led Aura out of the castle and into his mother’s gardens where the two of them could be alone. Once outside, strolling along the pebbled paths and enjoying the warmth of the sun he turned and smiled at her. “I’ve missed you,” he said.
She smiled at him. “I see you are King now.”
“Yes,” Erec replied almost somberly. He had never wanted to wear the crown at such a young age. He still missed his father.
“You know, when I visit Caerwynspire, the King and Queen kneel at my feet,” she said attempting to lighten his mood.
Erec laughed aloud. “Is that what you want? Me kneeling at your feet?”
Aura shook her head. “Not at the moment.”
“Is that where you have been?” he asked. “Caerwynspire?”
“Briefly. I was also in Dracengard and Auraehalis.”
“Dracengard?” Erec asked. “Did you see Terrwyn?”
“I have seen her,” Aura replied.
“Is she well?”
“She appears to be, yes.”
“What are they doing there?” Erec asked.
“Training. Metatron is even teaching them to absorb the light, as I have been attempting to teach you,” Aura said and then grabbed his jacket. “Yet you insist on covering your entire body, keeping the light away from your skin so that it continues to live in darkness.”
“Very well,” he said and began to unbutton his jacket, removing it before starting on the buttons of his shirt. When he was done he dropped both garments on the ground. Aura smiled admiring his shirtless body. He was not as perfectly molded as a seraph, but she could tell he had Alaric’s light in him. “Is this better?” he asked.
Aura nodded. “Quite.”
“Or would you prefer this?” Erec asked as he dropped to both knees in front of her.
Aura stepped closer to him and placed her hands gently on either side of his face as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She slowly lowered herself down to her own knees, kneeling face-to-face with him.
“I never understood what my brother saw in Ehren,” she whispered. “I never understood what any of the elophim saw in humanity. I always thought you a barbaric, ignorant race. But they saw something different. Something beautiful and remarkable.”
“What?” Erec asked.
“I believe it is the emotion. The love you feel. That allows us to feel love in return.”
“Seraph do not love?” Erec asked.
“We do. I certainly loved Alaric. But it is different. It lacks the passion of humans. It lacks the emotional need to be close to the one you love. It lacks the pain that is felt when you are separated from your love.” She ran her fingers gently over his chest. “I lived thousands of years without experiencing that, Erec. Until I met you.”
Erec tucked his finger beneath her chin and lifted her face to his. He saw tears in her eyes. “I feel that pain too, Aura. When you are gone, I am lost in the darkness. When you return, my entire world brightens.” As the words left his mouth, his lips pressed against hers. He squeezed her tight to his bare chest as her large white wings folded around them.
Chapter 8
The farmer sat in the chair nearest the hearth, puffing on his pipe as his eldest daughter lay on the wood board floor, her face propped up on her palms as she read aloud from a great book of ancient stories by firelight. She read her favorite story, about a prince named Valko who was turned into a wolf and only true love’s kiss would transform him back into a man. The farmer smiled down at his daughter as he listened to her read aloud. It was not every farmer who owned a book, nor was it every farmer who would teach his daughters to read. The book had been handed down through the generations, purchased by a great grandfather a century ago. The farmer had three daughters and no sons, but he was determined that all three of his girls would be able to read that book.
While the farmer enjoyed the very familiar story, his second eldest sat nearby listening as well. The baby cooed playfully from her cradle as the farmer’s wife finished cleaning the kitchen and putting food and dishes away.
Their calm and enjoyment was suddenly interrupted by the bleating of sheep. The farmer leapt to his feet as he set his pipe on the nearby table. His eyes shot to his wife who had scooped up the babe and dashed from the kitchen. “It could be anything,” she whispered in a hoarse voice. “A dog or a wolf even.” As the bleating intensified, it was clear what was causing it.
“Stay with your mother,” th
e farmer told the two older girls as they stood and rushed to her outstretched arms.
“You aren’t going out there?” she asked, the terror clear in her voice.
“I have to,” he replied. “The sheep…”
“But the draks will kill you,” she shot back in a pleading voice.
“You said yourself it could be anything,” he said.
Her face was aghast as she stared at him. “You know that’s not true!” she cried and he motioned for her to quiet down.
“I can’t just let them kill all the sheep. We’ll starve.”
“Perhaps it’s better to starve than be eaten.”
He let out an exasperated moan as he waived her concerns away and found his axe beside the hearth. He lit a torch from the flames of the fire—everyone knew draks were terrified of fire. He stepped to the door and, propping his axe against the wall beside it, raised the sturdy oak board which blocked the door. He turned to his wife as he gripped the handle of the axe, lifting it off the ground.
“Secure the door when I am gone,” he said. She nodded and he opened the door and stepped out into the darkness of the night. He stood in front of his house until he heard his wife slide the brace back over the door. He then turned toward the sheep’s pen and the sound of their bleats. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, the torchlight illuminating his path.
As the farmer cautiously approached the sheep pen he could hear the hisses that confirmed his worst fears. Drakmere were after his sheep. He stepped lightly and found five of them feasting just outside of the pen, their snouts covered in sheep’s blood. He drew a deep breath and summoned his courage. “Shoo! Get out of here!” he cried at them as if they were dogs.
The draks leapt to their feet and stared at the farmer, somewhat surprised. “Shoo, I said!” the farmer shouted again. The draks glanced at one another and then back at the small man that stood before them. They licked their lips and then began to surround him.
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