by Cale Madison
“Respect doesn’t always mean who wins in a fight. Maybe if you ruled, things would be different.” the blonde girl said and allowed Gavin to roll her body beneath him, “Why bother yourself with this, anyway? You can’t change what’s past.”
“See, it’s that attitude that has driven this great country to ruin. If enough people bury their heads in the sand, waiting for the storm to pass, they leave themselves vulnerable. Someone has to right the ship’s course, otherwise we crash and burn.” he said in a serious tone. With each thrust, pools of water would splash onto the bathhouse floor. She cried out, flashing her teeth with a smile.
“So who are you, then? Our new Dyrian the Sky-Rider?” she asked with a laugh as he began aggressively kissing her neck.
“Perhaps. Perhaps, I’ll be better.”
“Perhaps we should stop talking about past history and enjoy each other’s company.” she said and playfully bit into his left shoulder.
“There’s something about knowing someone on an intellectual level that enhances the experience.” the lord replied, feeling her small fingers travel across his scalp, “My coin has already been spent. You’ve no choice but to enjoy my company.”
“I haven’t said I’m not enjoying it?”
“True, but you have no choice.”
She smiled again and began kissing below his ear. Eventually, she halted her lips and asked, “And what about your scars? Where did this one come from?”
Gavin felt the mark above his left ear, where a scar ran from his ear to his jawline, “You don’t want to be bored by that story…”
“Not fair, Gavin! I told you my boring story!”
He breathed deeply and his eyes softened. He rested on the opposite side of the tub and explained, “During the Five Year’s War, I spent the coldest week of December with my two sons. We spent that night huddled around the hearth, trying to stay warm. Their mother passed from the Spotted Plague two years before. I was ordered to ride to the palace that previous morning, to take my sons with me. Instead, I chose to stay with them for just one last night in my home.”
“That’s sweet.” she said, resting her chin on his collarbone.
“This was the seventeenth, as I recall…” he began to say before her eyes bulged.
“The seventeenth? You’re not talking about the Elven Massacre, are you? In Dadelburg?”
“They named it the Elven Massacre, but I was there...and more humans died that night than elves, I can assure you.” he said, his voice seething with a rising anger, “I remember the sounds of the bells as they began ringing. I remember the alarmed soldiers taking to the streets as a band of elves rode through the city, begging for a place to hide. We knew these elves. I had grown up with two of them. Dadelburg was caught in the crossfire, in a war that we weren’t even a part of. Behind them, thirty to forty Arrigonians rode on black mares, killing anyone who stepped between them. The elves were slaughtered, as were all of my friends and...my…”
The blonde girl pressed her face into his neck as a vein began to protrude in his forehead. He sighed again, “I buried them together. That’s what they would’ve wanted. They were twins, you see. Never wanted to be apart from one another. As for the Arrigonians who killed them, they were pardoned, protected under the Search and Defend Act: any soldier enlisted in the Arrigonian Army in the pursuit of criminals may take any means necessary to apprehend said criminals. Any civilian caught in the crossfire is seen as nothing but a casualty of war. Those ‘criminals’ had stolen nothing from their caravan but a crate of food and supplies. That’s what cost me my...my boys...”
He lowered his eyes, fighting back the urge to burst from the bathtub and scream.
“The scar came from a rider who knocked me across the head with a knout in the city street. I fell unconscious, but not before I watched as my sons were trampled. They were shouting ‘Elves must die! A good elf is a dead one!’ while they killed every last one of them. I went to the palace after my sons’ funerals. I fought with all of my might to have it considered an Act of War, but it was always overturned. The High Command saw the massacre as a casualty, nothing more. That night changed something in me. I learned what evil truly is. My sons paid the price for my mistake. I should’ve taken them to the city like I was ordered to.”
The blonde kissed his forehead gently and whispered, “It’s not your fault. It was them, not you. Those bad men. They deserve your hate, not you.”
He nodded, scowling in anger as the vein returned. She planted her full lips on his head and cradled him in her arms. The steam from the bathhouse filled the room, clouding everything around them. In that woman’s arms, he felt right at home again.
***
We reached the village of Brunson an hour later, prepared to question anyone who might’ve had some idea of Malachi’s whereabouts. Skalige interrogated men and women loading crates and cargo off of ships onto the docks while I investigated the young children playing in the streets. After an extensive search and relentless rounds of identical questions, I finally discovered a close friend of the prince’s: a twelve-year-old lad named Lief who claimed to be Malachi’s best friend.
“We talked ‘bout most everything, sir.” Lief explained, “I wouldn’t know where Malachi’s run off to, this time. I’m sorry but I know of nothin’ else to tell you. Last I saw him, we were skippin’ rocks down at Jack’s Creek, talking ‘bout, well, everything really. That’s all I know, I swear!”
“What do you mean by ‘this time’? He run off frequently?” I asked.
“He’s a runaway, sir. Every other month, it seems like he packs his clothes, hikes to the edge of Avenwood and sits for a few hours...never takes ‘nother step further. I think he’s scared of tree elves or the witches of the wood, sir.” the boy answered, nervously flipping a rock in his hands.
I noticed the other children and their curious eyes as they peered around a building’s corner, trying to learn what was happening. Lief showed no signs of dishonesty, nor had any reason to. A slingshot was fastened to his belt, resting atop a pouch with dozens of small pebbles and smooth rocks. His dark-blonde hair was matted to his dirty forehead, hiding his innocent eyes from the sun.
“He always runs away to the forest?” I asked.
“Seems like. But he hadn’t in about a year, actually.” Lief replied, “Ever since he fell for the maiden’s daughter...oh, what’s her name...Krea! He hasn’t had a reason to leave the castle ever since the king hired her.”
“He was fond of this Krea girl?” I asked, realizing that I might’ve been inching my way closer to our first major lead in the investigation. Nobody had mentioned this girl.
“Fond is not a strong enough word, sir. He loved her! Told me all the time, he did! Head over heels, as some would say. I’m afraid I have nothing left to tell you, other than that, sir.” he admitted before running off to join his friends. They continued batting smooth, river stones with sticks and chasing pigs between their pens. I remembered days of my youth, when Taryn and I would steal our neighbor’s horses and trot into town to impress the local girls. With a smile, I turned away to head towards the Brunson port, which was now teeming with sailors and ship captains.
I found Skalige at the docks and explained to him what information I had learned; judging by the look on his face, he hadn’t discovered anything of value.
“Any word from the sailors?”
“Only that nearly half of Brunson hates the little prick and thinks a nutless monkey could do a better job at leading a kingdom. Nothing to take note of.” he answered, chuckling, “Also learned that taxation here is absurd! How could one survive paying that much?”
“A boy told me that Malachi loved a girl named Krea, the daughter of a maiden in the palace. She might know something.” I said. My friend laughed and grasped my shoulder with his large, sweaty hand. His dark hair had been pulled back and tied by a thread, revealing his half-disfigured face. I noticed that he had learned to embrace his defect, rather than conceal it from the wor
ld.
“You lucky son of a bitch, you. Always know the right places to look, eh?”
As we turned to depart from Brunson, a sudden hush fell over the crowd around us. Skalige took notice but did not sense what came next. A hulking, tattooed man burst through the people behind us. He wore rusted knight’s armor, which was matted in dried blood, and donned a scowl that could be felt from where I stood. He shouted, angrily, “BARON!”
“Let’s try that one more time.” Skalige said in a state of calm, preparing himself for another confrontation. He cocked his neck to the side, releasing pressure in his muscles and flexed his lower jaw.
“I’d recognize that mug anywhere.” the man snapped, “You’re Baron Skalige from the Isles. A long ways from home, aren’t ya? Seems today’s my lucky day.”
“Have I threatened you before, boy?” the baron snapped, rolling his sleeves as he prepared for a confrontation. A crowd began to gather around us, whispering in a hushed manner as they recognized the warlord beside me.
“I’ll rip your fuckin’ heart out!” the man shouted, “Two summers ago, my brother’s ship was raided by you filthy islanders! You sent him to the bottom of Hallobar with the rest of his crew, all for a few barrels of ale. You all live by no code, no morals! You took the blood of my family so I shall take yours!”
“Ah, I see. Before you go and do something you’ll regret, tell me something. What’s your name, boy?” Skalige scowled, darkening his tone.
The knight seemed confused with the question, tightly gripping the hilt of his sword as the baron unsheathed his and tossed it onto the rocky ground. I watched as the blade clattered against the stones and listened as he shouted, “You won’t tell me your blasted name, will you? I’ll tell you why. A bastard with no name and a sword won’t be the one to take my head! I’ve killed hundreds of men who were braver, smarter and better equipped than you! I’ve heard sob stories from fathers who’ve lost their sons, brothers who’ve lost brothers, yet I’m still standing here. Do you want to know why, Knight-With-No-Name? My blood runs thick with the Gods of War and my legacy is not about to be snuffed out by a stroke of vengeance at your pitiful hand. We are islanders, scourge of the land that would rather choke on our own blood than listen to such disdain! Put your sword in my belly now, but you better do it quick, because one second’s hesitation will show these people what guts you’re really made of!”
We watched in astonishment as the two men glared at each other and for a brief moment, we presumed that the fight would not unfold further. Suddenly, the Knight-With-No-Name proceeded to lunge at Skalige with his weapon drawn. In one fatal second of blindness, the baron ducked beneath his attacker’s left arm, then buried his fist in his stomach. The tattooed man collapsed, heaving as he struggled to breathe. Before he could climb to his feet, Skalige delivered a swift and effect punch to his jaw. The sound of the bone breaking could be heard across the entire port. The baron leaned down, grabbed the man by his hair and whispered, “I’m not going to kill you, Knight-With-No-Name. But try that again, and I won’t be so generous. Lives are lost during war. That’s what makes it a war.”
The tattooed man rubbed his mouth tenderly as the crowd dispersed.
***
Skalige and I found the maid’s quarters in the palace, a small chamber adjacent to the dining hall that then led us to the head servant’s room. Once there, we ciphered through the maidens until we found the woman with a daughter named Krea. She sat with her legs crossed in a chair, re stitching the hem of a child’s torn shirt in her lap. From the room’s veranda, I could see miles of Tuskan landscape and the Gorgon Mountains.
“How can I help you, good sirs?” Adaline asked as she scrubbed one of the young prince’s tunics. Wrinkles tugged at her skin, revealing how age and stress can devastate the physicality of a royal servant. Her red hair fell past her bony shoulders and her green eyes concealed years of hardship.
“We are not knights or nobles, my lady.” I said with respect, “We’re ordinary people like you. You can tell us what we need to know. Don’t worry. We’re only trying to find the young prince. Have you heard anything about his disappearance?”
“Nothing, sir...I’m dreadfully sorry. The last that I saw of his young Majesty was nearly a week ago. I delivered him a bowl of grapes while he was with his fencing instructor. I would talk to him..his name is Rhy-”
“Already spoken with him,” Skalige interrupted, “and he sent us to you.”
The three of us paused for a moment, giving me time to read her facial expressions. Her lips tightened and she avoided prolonged eye contact with us, indicating that something was pressuring her. Nervously, she began scrubbing the fabrics harder.
“Adaline...” I said to the maiden, bending low to her eye level.
She scrubbed faster.
“Adaline, you can tell us. A young man’s life is at stake. This stays between us...I promise.” I assured the anxious woman, “Malachi needs your help. Where’s your daughter, Krea? Maybe she knows something. I’ve heard the prince was rather fond of her.”
“She’s not here.”
“Then, perhaps we should pay her a visit instead.”
Instantly, Adaline changed her tone and nervously stammered, “No, no, no. Listen, sir, if I tell you this, please do not inform the King. It started with a lie and I’d like to keep it that way. Please!”
I nodded and gestured for her to continue.
“I’m trusting you.” she began to explain, “I’ve sent Krea to stay on my friend’s farm north of Tuskan...far, far from the city walls. I told the king and the Lords of the House that she fell ill and that her disease would spread through the palace like a rotting infestation in a garden. It was the only way.”
“Only way for what?”
“For a normal life. This is not the path I wanted for my daughter? Scrubbing, washing, living as a personal slave to those...those little ingrates.” Adaline replied, pausing momentarily to check for any eavesdropping guests, “The princes, they treat the lower maidens like prized livestock, sir. Two weeks ago, Dane, the youngest, tried to take advantage of her in his bedroom but she refused. Gave him a hard slap in his face too. He wanted to see my daughter hang...that’s the kind of evil lurking within those bastards. Their father didn’t raise them right and now they’re snobby little pricks. It’s truly sad.”
I felt disgusted by the mere thought. I apologized that Adaline had to endure retelling to us this sad story. She shook her head and continued to scrub away at the muddy fabrics, muttering foul words under her breath. “If you tell anyone, they will have me banished or worse.” she warned us, “Do with me what they will but if I can save Krea from a chambermaid’s life, I’ll sleep peacefully at night.”
“We will tell no one. We’re only looking for Malachi. If you have nothing to help us with, maybe your daughter can? Discreetly, of course.”
“There’s a vineyard, north of the Tuskan walls. The road will fork into two paths, one leads west to the military’s outpost and the other takes you east to their farm in Bardford. Ask for the Du’Bois Estate. That’s where you’ll find them. She has hair like mine and a birthmark on her neck. No one must know...please.”
Skalige and I shook Adaline’s hand and agreed to keep our agreement of discretion in this endeavour, as long as she helped provide any helpful information she withheld from the King’s men. Before we could depart from the room, she stopped us and said, “I must warn you, good sirs. Please be mindful of the Lockmours. Something isn’t right with them. Too many have disappeared in these past few months...many good men who served under Darius. Malachi won’t be the last, I assure you.”
I paused, realizing that Adaline knew more than she wanted us to see. I replied, “That’s what we’re here to find out. We’ll come back to speak with you soon.”
I closed the doors behind us and Skalige quickly asked, “So we’re to go question Krea now? This is becoming a country-wide search for answers, Caine. We’ve learned nothing except that thi
s little prince loved a woman!”
“You’re thinking too small, friend.” I replied, walking past him, “I traveled the entire Realm for a woman. Adaline’s daughter is the key to all of this...I’m absolutely certain. We have to go talk to her.”
Almost on cue, I heard a familiar voice echoing through the palace. My wife quickly strutted down the marble staircase, leading from the upper bedchambers and cupped in her hands was the blue flower that I had left with her that morning. Skalige stepped away quickly, awkwardly pretending to admire the statues along the wall.
“The hell is this, Caine?” she snapped, looking down at the flower, “Is this your clever little way of telling me goodbye? A garden rose?”
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Not worry? Leaving me without a shred of information is the best way to make me worry about where you’ve gone off to.” she scolded, angrily, “What kind of man does that? Especially, given all that we’ve been through. What were you thinking?”
“I’m sorry. I left you a note on the dre-”
“What note?” she interrupted, still with a snapping tone.
“I...thought I left one on the dresser.”
Aketa shook her head, running her fingers over the blue flower in her hand. I knew that she wanted to accompany me but she couldn’t, for her own sake. Skalige avoided eye contact and stood across the hall, pretending to admire murals and paintings of Lockmour ancestors.
“This is a dangerous place.” I explained to my wife, “We nearly died yesterday with the anka. I don’t want to lose you. It won’t take more than a few days, if even that. I have to find this boy and it’s, eh, not looking to be so simple.”
Her eyes watered as she heard these familiar words and replied, “More than a few days...I’ve heard that before.”
“I promise. Don’t worry, Skalige will be keeping me company.” I said, gesturing to my friend who shot me a glare, indicating that he, in no way, wanted to be a part of this conversation. Aketa exhaled heavily and wrapped her arms around my body, burying her face in my chest.