Coven Queen

by Jeramy Goble

  She slapped Keleah again.

  “Wake up!”

  The queen’s voice shook with anger at Keleah, and, unbeknownst to the crowd, at herself as well.

  “You will experience this! All of it! Suffer!”

  Keleah’s head sank slightly, but her eyes were open. Her breathing was rapid and shallow. Blood spilled out from her mouth, but there was no way of telling if it was from internal injury, her cut tongue, or both.

  Jularra stepped back and took in the entire scene. She looked Keleah up and down, horrified with what she saw, though publicly she smiled with satisfaction. She turned to the side, presenting the final impalement to her people. They united in a shout of approval. Jularra then glanced over her shoulder, and waved for the executioner and nearby guards to join the crowd. They filed down the stairs and into the sea of onlookers.

  Jularra stepped back once more, fighting the urge to flee the scene. She caught her breath and froze in place.

  “No!” Jularra screamed.

  The word roared through the air with the weight of defiance. She closed her eyes and held up her hands, summoning two massive energy spheres—one in each hand.

  Jularra released her invisible spheres and continued to peer down at Keleah. A new fury began to flow within her.

  I will not end up like Leona.

  I will not be consumed.

  Not by love or hate.

  I will not lose all control.

  With a sudden flash, the entire area was basked in a radiant blanket of brilliant light. The flash stunned the crowd into silence.

  Just as the crowd quieted, the light began to fade. Down, darker, and fainter, the light gave way to shade. Further and further, color shifted to blackness, until the hue of the world was a fraction of its usual self.

  Jularra summoned her magic. She fueled it with clarity and flavored it with restraint. Keleah’s justice deserved to be enacted without remorse, untainted by regret. In the artificial dusk of Jularra’s will, streams of spinning amber flickered to life. That which she had first experienced at Leona’s was now a new, harnessed extreme, unique to Jularra. This magic was unfiltered, and unabashed. It was raw power, and whole.

  As the rings around her swelled and sped up, the light they emitted brightened. Within seconds, the blazing light surrounding Jularra lit up the execution site as if it were favored by the Gift Gods themselves. A sphere of light surrounded Keleah’s jumbled body on the impalement stake. Slowly at first, and then quickly, the damage inflicted on her body began to reverse.

  Keleah toppled over to the floor.

  The stake slipped out of her body.

  The pitch and mud were ejected from her orifice.

  The tears and slices in her flesh healed themselves, and Keleah stretched weakly on the boards of the execution platform, whimpering.

  The crowd began to boo. The queen’s mercy was an insult. Through shouts of angry disapproval, they rejected her actions as cowardice. The jeering swelled and Jularra grew angry, not from their reaction but from their misunderstanding.

  Jularra muttered softly, “Be silent.”

  Though the mob of Acorilinians didn't hear her words, they felt her will. The crowd fell quiet. Jularra walked to the edge of the platform and addressed them.

  “I had a choice on how to handle this traitor. A choice!”

  Jularra turned back to Keleah.

  “And I have decided that her fate will be different. She can be used to greater benefit in life.”

  Jularra looked down on the petrified but intact Keleah. The queen’s mind was clear. Her conscience was at peace. She motioned for the guards to approach.

  “Take the girl away and put her under guard. I have questions for her.”

  Leona and Vylas approached through the crowd, slowly making their way up to the platform to join Jularra. As they did, the area began to grow darker, the remaining natural light snuffed away. The light from Jularra’s summoned energy started to dissipate as well.

  The crowd gasped in fearful wonder when the burning image of a figure scorched out from the darkness to stand in front of Jularra.

  The Gift God watched as the guards picked Keleah up and carried her away. Jularra stood silently, unsure of what to expect.

  “You have shown a proclivity for dark acts, Jularra,” the Gift God began.

  The death of Vilfarin replayed in Jularra’s mind.

  “And these events today also bloomed from dark roots. Indeed, all roots begin in the dark, underground. But your mercy here shows that you know when a root should be allowed to sprout out into the sun. The use of your gifts to allow your own roots to break free of your past’s soil was a demonstration to us that you have completed your understanding of magic. We bestow upon you, this Credellion that signifies your absolute proficiency.”

  “As you live out the rest of your days, remember: gifts are not good, nor evil. Light and dark live only in the heart.”

  The attentive crowd below remained silent as the image of the Gift God faded. As it departed, the level of light returned to normal.

  Vylas jogged over and wrapped Jularra up in his arms, but Jularra gently pushed him away. Vylas nodded in solemn respect for her actions.

  “That has to be it…” Leona said softly. Vylas and Jularra looked over.

  “Must be what?”

  Leona's eyes shone with epiphany.

  Eighteen

  “The reason for the time frames of the pact,” Leona said. “The Voidwarden wants the queens to mature enough that it can use their energy, but not enough to develop their skills to the level you have, and challenge it!”

  Before Jularra could respond to Leona’s suggestion, a woman’s voice thundered up from the rear of the crowd.

  “Queen Jularra!”

  Jularra stepped towards the edge of the platform and squinted at the fast-approaching rider.

  “One of mine,” Wona affirmed.

  “Let that Spire through!” Jularra shouted. She dropped down from the platform. The crowd parted as instructed and the rider raced towards the queen, shoving off from her saddle before the horse had even come to a stop.

  “Your Majesty,” the exhausted Spire began. Her voice was dry and weak. “We’re receiving reports that the Torgurians have regrouped and are marching back from the east.”

  “How many?” Jularra asked.

  “We’ve estimated around three thousand.”

  Jularra looked at Wona and Vischuno with concern.

  “They have siege machinery, my queen,” the Spire added.

  In light of the increasing challenges, Jularra was the calmest she had been in some time. She was the epitome of peace and was confident in the capabilities of her people. But the news hadn’t finished arriving.

  “That’s not all, Your Majesty. There’s also a report that Lord Latham’s armies are approaching from the south.”

  "Of course they are,” Jularra sighed. “Numbers?”

  The Spire swallowed “Somewhere between fifteen hundred and two thousand.”

  Jularra nodded to herself, then to the Spire.

  “Thank you. Vischuno, Wona, to me,” the queen ordered. She then turned to the face the crowd.

  “A second wave is coming, ladies and gentlemen! Torgurians and Latham traitors! I want all captains up by me immediately. The rest of you, fall back and wait for instruction. Civilians of Morganon, retreat to the rear of the city immediately.

  “We have approximately five thousand incoming,” Jularra resumed with Vischuno and Wona. “How many can we defend with?”

  “We have no more than a thousand in the city right now,” Wona answered.

  “But if we send out word as soon as possible, we might be able to match them one for one by the time they get here,” Vischuno added.

  Jularra massaged the knuckles of one hand with the other as she weighed her options.

  “Do it,” she ordered. "Get anyone and everyone possible in the county to report in. There's no time to reach out to the other
counties, so don’t bother.”

  Wona and Vischuno headed over to speak with a group of nearby officers.

  Jularra looked around for Melcayro and Abranni, dodging through the shuffling crowd toward her new friends. She placed her hands on her hips and took a deep breath.

  “Look, I know I only asked for you to help me find Leona, and you did that. I can’t thank you enough. But I have to ask—”

  Melcayro interrupted, holding up his hand.

  “We’re here. How can we help?”

  Jularra blinked, relief dawning. “Are you sure?” she asked them both.

  “If you don't survive this, we don't get your help with fighting Hignriten,” Abranni replied. “What do you need?”

  Jularra clapped her hands. “Tell me… what do you know about my Ridgerazers?”

  Abranni smiled.

  ***

  Within hours, Morganon resembled itself on its busiest days, its new population of fighting men and women spilling outside the interior walls. Thousands of Jularra’s soldiers from across Burrek had arrived, ready to fight. Proper stock had been taken of the newcomers' status, their supplies, and arms. The breaches in the walls, while not insubstantial, had been repaired to the point where attacking infantry wouldn’t simply be able to walk in. Archers were in place, and the infantry were in formation outside the walls in the valley.

  The Ridgerazers were also in place, under the direction of Vylas, Leona, Abranni and Melcayro. All captains had their orders and were as prepared as they would ever be. Time had been short, but it had not been squandered.

  Jularra marched briskly past the infantry after a quick, final meeting with Vischuno and Wona. Together, the Bedrock and Spire champions would be commanding the main force. As Jularra jogged over the bridge and back through the gatehouse, she heard the muffled trumpeting of the horns of Torguria.

  She raced up a set of stairs and scanned the length of the valley from the battlements.

  “That sounded like it came from behind the northern pass,” she said.

  “Your Majesty! The High Peak watchtower!” a nearby archer exclaimed.

  Jularra looked up to the massive turret set into the side of High Peak Mountain, just shy of the summit. The tower had a perfect vantage point of both sides of the northern valley exit. The watchtower guards were unfurling a signaling flag, revealing the image of a colored circle above a hammer.

  “Okay,” Jularra said. Her voice was firm and calm. The archer continued to watch the signaling guards, reporting the flag’s implications to the queen.

  “They’re assembling their siege equipment, Your Majesty.”

  She nodded, turning away to look for any sign of Latham’s forces.

  Nothing yet.

  She glanced up at her southern-facing towers. No flags.

  “All right,” she called as she descended the stairs. “Everyone keep an eye out, and report anything unusual to your captains. We’re going to see to that siege equipment!”

  Jularra jogged back down the steps and out from the wall. She started to call out again.

  “Let’s have the Ridge—”

  She stopped in the middle of the path, suddenly overwhelmed by an unexpected emptiness. For just a moment, she had forgotten.

  Korden.

  But her realization didn’t result in tears, or anxiety—quite the opposite. Though she missed Korden more at that moment than perhaps ever before, her stomach only rolled emptily as she felt her blood pressure jump. She filled from head to toe with resolve. Her focus was clear and unwavering.

  Onward she marched, passing scores of civilians carrying and carting goods and supplies back to the interior of the city, until she came upon her small group of advisors.

  “I assume you heard that?” Jularra asked the group.

  “We saw the flag,” Vylas replied. “We’re ready.”

  “Just stay safe,” Jularra directed. “Conserve energy where you can, but destroying that siege equipment is the priority.”

  “We sent a small contingent of Ridgerazers to the south, should you need them,” Abranni advised. “Unless you want them all up here with us?”

  Jularra looked up to High Peak’s watchtower. No change.

  “That’s probably a good idea. I think getting over that pass will slow them, so the numbers you have here should suffice.”

  Melcayro winked at Abranni for what Jularra assumed must have been her idea.

  “All right. I’ll leave you to finish preparations. I’m going back to the gatehouse, but let me know the moment—”

  Another sound rang out across the valley, interrupting Jularra. This time, it wasn’t an enemy horn, but that of the guard in the tower overlooking the southern roads. A flag fell down the side of tower. It was an image of three rows of hash marks—infantry, as reported. Jularra held her breath as she waited for the second flag, which would indicate the size of the force.

  Four hash marks.

  “Four,” Jularra said softly.

  The noise of the city seemed stifled.

  “Four thousand,” Jularra said again. She looked at Melcayro while silently steeling her resolve.

  “That’s twice the initial estimate of Latham’s forces,” Melcayro said flatly.

  Jularra shrugged off the added threat.

  “Time to get to work,” she said to her four Ridgerazer captains. “Do not let those siege weapons get in range. We’ll take care of the infantry.”

  Jularra smiled at her advisors—my friends—before turning back towards the gatehouse. As she climbed up to the top once more, she saw the majority of her infantry break off to meet Latham’s approaching forces.

  Morganon fell silent as it settled into the final peaceful moments before the next battle. Jularra listened to the shouts of captains and commanders repositioning portions of the infantry out in the valley. As the soldiers marched further south, the orders became fainter until she could barely hear them at all.

  Behind her, inside the city walls, the commotion of wagons and civilians receded as people sought shelter. The city was once again prepared for battle, and to sustain whatever death and destruction the second wave might bring. Runners sped back and forth, carrying quivers full of arrows and buckets of stones to be thrown. All thoughts that distracted from Jularra’s battle mindset drained away. Right then, there was no Korden. No lost baby. No Voidwarden. No pact. Her mind was fully dedicated to the preservation of her people and her city.

  Jularra summoned a nearby Spire. “Ride out and find Vischuno or Wona. One of them should be near that lead column. Tell them to send a rider ahead to Latham’s people. Tell them that Latham has been executed. If they return home, or agree to help dispatch the Torgurians, their transgression will be forgiven.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” The Spire nodded and sprinted off.

  Jularra turned to a nearby Bedrock.

  “Get word up to that southern tower that we’re going to try to negotiate with Latham’s armies, and to signal any change in their posture. Understood?”

  “Yes, of course, my queen. Right away.”

  As the Bedrock ran on the heels of the Spire with his mission, a great thwump erupted behind Jularra. She turned in time to see a massive fireball arcing towards the northern pass. While it was still in mid-air, Jularra looked to the pass to see the first Torgurian catapults being wheeled through.

  Jularra nodded with pride in her Ridgerazers, and gratitude towards her friends for overseeing their involvement. Then the initial blast of fire landed well short of the first catapults. Before it hit the ground, another one was on its way. It, too, landed short.

  Jularra flinched at the wasted energy. She cupped her hands around her mouth and called in the direction of the Ridgerazers, “Be smart, now!” But she wasn’t sure if they could hear her.

  She tugged the sleeve of a nearby archer.

  “Run down there, and remind them that I said to conserve their energy.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the archer obliged.

&nbs
p; Jularra watched as the young woman shot down the stairwell before tearing down the length of the wall towards the Ridgerazers.

  As the archer ran with Jularra’s message, she watched two more blasts of fire launch out from the north corner turret. One fell short again; the other had better range, but landed wide of the target. It became clear that the catapults weren’t in range yet, and Jularra grew agitated at the wasted energy.

  Jularra saw the archer-turned-messenger reach her destination. A few moments later Vylas and Abranni turned to look at her. Still too far away to hear her shout, Jularra shot her hands out from the sides of her head in the direction of the catapults, pointedly reminding them again to focus and not waste their energy.

  There was no activity for a few minutes after the messenger arrived, and then a fresh blast of fire erupted from the northern turret at the catapults. Jularra grabbed the edge of the nearby wall’s embrasure and leaned over in anticipation.

  The massive ball of flame shot through the air. Jularra whipped her head back and forth from the ball of flames to the catapults, calculating and judging its course as it flew.

  That's it!

  The trajectory of the mammoth globe of fire was true. The lead Ridgerazer guided it in a perfect arc to crash into the slow-moving catapult at its wide base. The catapult exploded into flaming shards and chunks of wood.

  Four more catapults crested the pass, but the Ridgerazers didn’t immediately react. Jularra watched with approving eyes as the mages took their time, waiting for the catapults to slowly make their way down further into the valley. Closer they crept, the energy conjured by the Ridgerazers accumulating more slowly than before as they took greater care with their focus and calculations.

  Just as the catapults came within range, the Ridgerazers unleashed a volley of fireballs. The valley was swallowed up by a curtain of fire as the flying inferno soared true, with all but one striking and destroying the latest wave of catapults.

  “Your Majesty!”

  Jularra turned. Far out, ahead of the lead group of Morganon infantry to the south, a horse and rider rode towards the city.

  Is that our messenger?

  She looked to the southern towers.