“Has he not already forced you to name Ashleen as your heir in Talisaria?” Tythan nodded. “If Artur can defeat Anne’s forces and take Libetha, he could easily conquer Beagonia. That would effectively give him control over all of the northern kingdoms. The Stromland has no military forces remaining and thus Artur could easily march south conquering all lands to the border of Avonvale. Ephenee is ruled by his cousins who, one must assume, would certainly ally themselves with Caerwynspire, leaving only Avonvale and Elophborne free of his control.”
Tythan stopped in his tracks as he laughed aloud. Ariana tilted her head to gaze at him. “What is so funny?” she asked.
“You,” he said.
“Me?”
“Yes. Your conniving mind is working overtime. It’s adorable.”
“My conniving mind?”
“I think perhaps you spent too much time in the court of Anne and the Wizard.”
Ariana turned red as she glared at him, but he took her face in his hands and pressed his lips firmly to hers. After a moment he pulled away. “I love you,” he said.
Ariana was not ready to let the conversation drop that easily. “Do you not think it possible?”
“Sure, it’s possible,” he said. “But I think you are giving Artur too much credit. I believe he is more brawn than brains.”
“Still, I believe he is dangerous.”
“Absolutely, but right now his protection is what is keeping us alive.”
“But for how long?” she asked.
Chapter 11
The pyre was launched into the river from the same bank at Elwood where King Ulrich’s had been launched. Griselda wept as she watched her son’s body float away. The news of the deaths of two of her children in such a short period of time was difficult to take. She so wished her husband were still alive to hold her and comfort her. At his funeral a year ago, all of her children were in attendance to comfort her. Now both Edward and Ella were dead, Willem was the seraph only knew where, and thus, only young Geoffrey remained by her side. Griselda’s youngest child attempted to be the rock she needed now, keeping his arm around his mother comfortingly.
As the floating pyre drifted away from the crowds of people who had come to pay their respects, Lord Hansel notched an arrow while one of his men lit the head with a torch. Hansel drew the bowstring and aimed up into the air. He released the string sending the arrow streaking high into the sky, before falling earthward, landing on the pyre, and igniting it in a gulf of flames. The crowd stayed to witness the burning pyre sink below the water. Once it was submerged and out of view, they began to disperse.
Hansel turned to Griselda and Geoffrey. “I am very sorry. I, too, loved Edward.” He swallowed hard. “And Ella.” His eyes cut to Geoffrey who had him fixed in an indignant glare. “I know you are upset, lad,” Hansel said as he placed a hand on Geoffrey’s shoulder.
Geoffrey slapped the hand away. “This is your fault,” he sneered at his uncle. “Had you not turned my brother to treason or aided the outlaw Erec Valestead, both Edward and Ella would be alive today.”
“Geoffrey!” Griselda gasped.
“I don’t expect you to understand now, Geoffrey, but one day you will realize why that thinking is misguided. You will come to grips with where the true blame for their deaths lie.” Hansel stepped past Geoffrey and began the long trek back up the hill to the castle. Geoffrey watched him go with a wrathful gaze.
“I shall have his head,” Geoffrey said coldly.
***
Hansel stood before the mourners at the requiem feast honoring not only Edward, but Ella as well. He glanced at the royal family’s table at the front of the room which, when they had gathered to mourn his brother, had been full. Now Geoffrey sat alone. His mother, too distraught to even attend, had secluded herself in her room.
Hansel took a deep breath, willing the tears to remain at bay. The requiem feast was supposed to lift spirits with fond stories of the deceased. The ceremony at the river bank with the pyre was for mourning death; the feast was to celebrate life. As Hansel stared at the mostly empty royal table, he did not feel much like celebrating.
Hansel had sworn to his brother, the now deceased King Ulrich, that he would watch after his niece and nephews once the King passed. Hansel’s shoulders sagged as he remembered that oath made to his brother. A fine job he had done. Two were dead, the eldest and rightful king forced to flee, and the baby of the bunch felt more kinship with the enemy than his own family.
Geoffrey glared down at his uncle with a scorn normally reserved for murderers and rapists. Hansel swallowed hard before presenting a flourishing bow. “Your Highness,” he said with a crack in his voice. He cleared his throat and spoke again. “Your Highness, I would like to tell the tale of Prince Edward and Princess Ella…” he began but was interrupted by Geoffrey.
“King Edward!” Geoffrey spat at him.
Hansel decided to pick his battles wisely. There was no harm in referring to Edward as king, even though Willem was the rightful king. Edward did not stand in Willem’s way. He died defending the kingdom from its true enemies. Most importantly, Edward was dead and thus could not oppose Willem’s claim to the throne even if he wanted to.
“A tale of King Edward and Princess Ella,” Hansel said and then turned to the crowd of mourners gathered at various tables throughout the room. “Back when he was simply Prince Edward,” Hansel smiled at them. He calmed himself and pushed the sadness from his mind. “I was not there mind you. But this is what has been told to me.” He chuckled. “Many times.” A smile spread across his face as he recounted the story.
The royal family of Avonvale had been visiting at Elwood. Everyone knew that Willem had an enormous crush on Terrwyn. He was fourteen and she a year older. He stared at her constantly, shy about how beautiful she had become while he had become more gangly and uncomfortable. Still he pined after her and one day Ella came to his room and told him that Terrwyn wanted to see him. She had set up a special picnic at the edge of the Great Forest. Excited, Willem rushed to join her. There he found a blanket and a basket of food, but no Terrwyn. Clipped to the basket by a pin was a note from Terrwyn asking Willem to join her by the river.
Willem made his way through the trees and shrubs until he arrived at the river bank. Once again there was no Terrwyn. He called out to her. Suddenly, he heard Edward’s voice shout “Here comes your love!” and at that moment a small pig—decorated with a painted face, doll’s dress, and even a horsehair wig—bolted from the bushes straight toward him, squealing as it ran.
The pig so startled Willem that he slipped and fell into the river. He crawled out onto the bank to find Edward and Ella laughing hysterically at his expense. His face turned a bright red with rage and he leapt up from the bank, handfuls of mud squishing through his fingers. He flung the mud at Edward and Ella, splattering it over their clothes, faces, and hair. He dug up more mud and flung it again. Edward and Ella rushed down to the riverbank digging up handfuls of their own. Soon all three were covered head-to-toe in wet, black filth. By this time the anger was gone and the three of them laughed playfully as each attempted to make the other even dirtier than himself or herself.
Their play was interrupted by their father’s voice. “What in the Three Realms is going on here?” King Ulrich demanded and all three spun to find not only Ulrich, but also King Alexandeon, Erec, and Terrwyn out for a ride.
Ella and Willem were mortified as they watched Erec and Terrwyn laugh at them. Edward, however, was unfazed. He picked up two handfuls of mud and flung them at Erec and Terrwyn. Ulrich’s eyes went wide with anger and he was about to scream at his son until Alexandeon placed a calming hand on his shoulder.
“They’ll give as good as they get,” Alexandeon smiled. He was right. Erec and Terrwyn leapt from their horses and rushed down to the riverbank collecting handfuls of mud and smearing it all over a now overpowered Edward.
Hansel’s story was interrupted by Geoffrey. “I’ve heard that story before, but I�
�ve never understood where Taite and I were,” he said.
Hansel turned to face him with a shrug. “Taite was young. You…well your brothers and sister didn’t include you in pranks because they knew that you would tell your mother.” Laughter filled the room.
Geoffrey’s face reddened and he opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted when the door at the rear of the hall swung open and he saw the Captain of the City Guard step inside. The Captain nodded to him causing Geoffrey to smile.
“Uncle Hansel, your treason has caused the death of my brother and my sister. As the rightful heir to the throne, I order you arrested.”
There was a murmur through the crowd as Hansel turned to see a score of City Guardsmen entering the room. He turned back to Geoffrey. “Willem is the rightful King of Elophborne you little demon!” he shouted.
“Willem is a traitor to Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Andalynn!” Geoffrey spat back. “If he ever returns, he shall join you in your cell.”
“You are starting a civil war that will tear the kingdom even further apart than it already is. My men will not rest while I…” Geoffrey interrupted him.
“Your men are already dead or jailed. You stand alone. But I shall give you a chance, Uncle. Kneel down and swear allegiance to me. Proclaim Willem a traitor and I shall let you live.”
Hansel’s hand went to the hilt of his sword. “Never!” he shouted as he drew it. As he did so, the guardsmen rushed toward him their own swords drawn and at the ready. Hansel spun sharply, cutting down the first man to reach him, then another. Too many came however, and soon he was stabbed from behind, driving him to the ground. More blades punctured his body. He gasped, his blood gurgling, before everything went black.
***
Griselda was sitting on the edge of her bed when she heard a quiet rapping at her door. “Come in,” she said. The door slowly opened and she saw Geoffrey standing there solemnly. She waved for him to step inside and he did so, closing the door behind him, but did not speak a word. “Is it done?” she asked softy.
Geoffrey nodded, but as he did so his face began to contort as tears streamed from his eyes. Griselda held out her arms to him and he rushed to her, burying his face in her bosom. Griselda stroked his head calmingly. “There, there my darling,” she whispered gently.
“I wish I hadn’t done it,” he sobbed. “It wasn’t like I thought it would be. When he died I…” the sobs interrupted his words.
“Hush now, love,” Griselda said. “You had no choice. Hansel gave you no choice. Only one can rule and he would not let it be you. Once he took control he would have thrown us both deep in the dungeon.” She pulled Geoffrey’s head up to face her, her palms planted on his red cheeks and her forehead pressed to his. “It was his fault, not yours.”
“But he was my uncle,” Geoffrey cried.
Griselda pulled him in close for a tight embrace. “I know my darling, but kings must make difficult choices. And you are king now.”
Chapter 12
The birds were chirping and sun shone brightly as Sephene sat on a stone bench in the Queen’s gardens in Avonvale admiring the violet bloom of a delicate flower and the view of the Ehren River below. She enjoyed the refuge of the gardens and understood why her aunt, Queen Genevieve, created such a beautiful space. It was tranquil here away from the rush of court. It was an oasis that allowed the royal family, the Queen in particular, a place to rest and rejuvenate.
Erec had suggested Sephene take advantage of the gardens days ago when he could see that the stress of acting as Queen was taking its toll. He had explained that not only his mother, but also Terrwyn had enjoyed the peace, beauty, and seclusion the gardens provided. Sephene had smiled remembering how Terrwyn would often dash off to “inspect the gardens.” Whenever Sephene or Anne would ask if she wanted company, Terrwyn always quickly refused. Now Sephene understood why.
Sephene heard the crunch of boots on the pebble path and glanced over her shoulder to see Erec approaching. She smiled. “Hello,” she said softly.
He returned her smile. “Do you mind if I join you?” he asked. Sephene shook her head and slid over so that Erec could sit down beside her. “I thought I’d find you here,” he smiled as he lowered himself down onto the bench.
“Is there something you need?” she asked gently.
Erec shook his head. “No,” he said. “I just wanted to thank you for all of your help. Taking over the Queen’s duties without wearing the crown is a lot of work with little reward,” he laughed.
“I’m happy to do it,” she said sweetly. “Hopefully Terrwyn can return soon and she can resume the duties. She is so much better at it than I.”
Erec tilted his head as he leaned forward, placing his elbows onto his knees. “No, she just has more experience. Plus she has been groomed to be a queen for years. And let’s not forget she assumed the duties during peacetime, without drakmere running through the countryside slaughtering our subjects.”
“There is that,” Sephene said as she turned back to the flower.
“Well, I do appreciate it. I know that it can be exhausting.”
Sephene turned to gaze into his eyes. “I want to help you. I love you.” Erec sat up straight and his eyes widened. “I mean, you’re my cousin. I love you all—you, Terrwyn, and Taite. I will do whatever I can to help.”
Erec smiled gently and placed his hand on top of hers. “Well all of our cousins have not been this loyal,” he said.
“That is true,” she replied. Sephene knew the truth of that statement as well as anyone.
“You have been through so much already.” Erec took his hands from hers and gently brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek as he stared into her eyes.
“We all have,” she said as tears began to build in her eyes. Erec wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him.
“It’s going to be alright,” he said as he fought back his own tears. “I’ve got you now.” He felt her head nod. She pulled away and wiped the tears from her eyes. Suddenly, they were interrupted by a voice behind them.
“Your Majesty,” came Lord Galt’s rough voice and they both turned to see the old knight standing stoically.
“What is it?” Erec asked.
“We have some news,” Galt said.
“Well come share it,” Erec smiled as he waved Galt over.
Galt stepped in front of the bench facing Erec and Sephene. “We have just received word that Anne is attacking Libetha,” Galt informed them.
Erec glanced at Sephene then back at Galt. “It makes sense. From my understanding she was bedding Andrick.”
“Whore,” Sephene mumbled under her breath.
“She would want to place her lover on the throne,” Erec said.
“Likely, Your Majesty,” Galt agreed.
“We shall march to their relief,” Erec said as he stood.
“Your Majesty I…” Galt began to protest, but Erec cut him off.
“We shall rescue Libetha and I shall have my revenge on Andrick!”
“Erec,” Sephene said, also standing. “The news is likely old.”
“Had one of the other kingdoms come to our relief, perhaps Avonvale would not have fallen to the Wizard,” Erec reminded her.
“They would have never reached Avonvale in time, Your Majesty,” Galt countered. “Even our forces led by your own uncle, Lord Theron, could not make it from Greynault in time. Lady Sephene is right, the news is old and Libetha has likely fallen already.”
“Then we shall march north and destroy Anne’s drak army there.”
Sephene placed a hand on his arm. “No one wants Anne’s head more than I, Erec, but we’d be playing right into her hands. Anne covets Avonvale. The rest of the realm is just gravy, but Avonvale is her primary prize. Let us not destroy Avonvale’s forces on a hopeless mission to Libetha. We must prepare for our defense here.”
Erec wanted revenge. He wanted to destroy the draks, his traitorous cousins, and the murderer Andrick more than he could
stand. He had always been a brash young man, always rushing headlong into trouble. He smiled at Sephene’s logic, knowing that she had a cooler head than he. “Yes, you are right. Anne shall return to Avonvale eventually.”
“If we want a different fate than last time the draks came south, we had better start preparing now, Your Majesty,” Galt said.
“Agreed,” Erec replied. “Very well, Lord Galt. Begin preparing for the defense of Avonvale.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said and spun on his heel.
“Lord Galt,” Sephene said causing the old knight to turn. “Let us get word to all of the lords that any who do not come to Avonvale immediately for its defense shall be deemed in league with Anne and dealt with accordingly. It’s time they chose a side.”
Galt smiled. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he said with a bow. Erec could not decide if that had been a slip of the tongue or a hint, but neither he nor Sephene corrected him. Their eyes met instead and Erec smiled warmly at her.
Chapter 13
Anne was flying. She soared high above the Scorched Mountains, their peaks streaking by below. She knew that she was in the midst of a dream and it enthralled her, for she felt as though she could control this dream.
She flew south to Avonvale. All of the land between the sea and her home was scorched, black, and burnt. As she flew over Avonvale, she noticed that the blue waters of the Ehren River had turned red with blood. She smiled. Then she heard the cry of a babe and she saw a small boy thrashing about in the river and drowning in the blood that flowed there. She knew it was her son. The child her mother had stolen from her. She flew lower. She had to save him. Just as she was about to reach down and grab him, she felt a sharp pain in her back. She turned her head and saw her cousin, Terrwyn, riding on her back, stabbing her with a glowing sword. Terrwyn had an expression of disgust upon her face.
“Terrwyn!” Anne shouted. “What are you doing? I must save my child!” She heard her cousin cackle as she twisted the sword. Anne spun around dumping Terrwyn toward the ground and certain death, but Terrwyn did not fall all of the way. Instead she sprouted large red wings and flew up toward Anne.
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