Dark One Rising

by Leandra Martin

  He stood from his chair again, glanced at himself in the mirror and brushed his hair back with his fingers. His eyes were slightly bloodshot from being up all night, and the bags under them were becoming more pronounced as the years wore on. He really was a ghastly mess. Alek was right, he was a pathetic excuse for a king. He threw a shirt on but left it unbuttoned and went to the window again, looking out over the countryside he had ridden through so many times. Over the years, he had become a voice for the people, putting himself in their shoes, sometimes even living as they did, against his father’s wishes. “If you become their friend, they will not respect you as their king” his father used to say. His father was a good king, but Dain thought he was misguided. How could you possibly expect to gain respect if you didn’t give it? How could people learn to respect you if you looked down on them? The people loved him, as they had loved his father before him, but he had gained more trust because of his empathy. He knew he could be an even better king if he really tried. With a throne came certain responsibilities, and although he was thrown into it suddenly, before he was ready, it really was a poor excuse for his current behavior. Where did my life go wrong, he thought, when did I get off the right path and travel too far down the wrong one? He knew his father was probably looking down on him from wherever he was and shaking his head with disappointment; his mother too. He knew deep down he wanted to change, he just had no bloody idea how to do it. Getting rid of Annikka was a good start. Maybe now he could find a proper woman to settle down with, if there were any good women left who would still have him despite his reputation. He sighed. Perhaps his reputation was ruined beyond repair. If I were a proper lady, he thought, I certainly wouldn’t have me.

  He had fallen deeper into his melancholy lately and perhaps it was because he felt something dark stirring out there and didn’t want to face it. He didn’t try to understand what it was he felt, but he refused to shrug it off as nothing. Maybe it had something to do with Fallon. Being out among the commoners he tended to hear more than perhaps he should. Fallon was feared, that was obvious. He was a powerful man, owning many acres of estates and ranchland, which made him the richest duke in Aelethia. Dain suspected he wanted to bring the destruction of the surrounding kingdoms and start a war. Fallon wanted to rule over all the lands. Dain would not assume these were just rumors. No one knew for sure. Maybe it was high time he found out and prepared himself for what was to come. Right now, however, he was too tired and too inebriated to think about it.

  CHAPTER 8

  Melenthia rode hard all day, following the west fork of the Stillwater Creek toward the Dark Woods. She stayed on the border of the woods, not yet wanting to travel through them. They were dark, and there had been stories of wolves attacking people. They were only on the hunt for food, for the longer than normal cold weather was making all life more difficult. But she didn’t want to take the chance that she may well just be a nice feast for a pack of wayward dogs. Besides, the thick stands of trees would make travel slower. She didn’t want to slow down until she knew she had a good lead ahead of anyone that might come after her. Fallon would be arriving at the castle soon, and it would take some time for him to discover her absence and send out guards. She probably had some time, but she would take no chances. She would travel through the forest tomorrow, when she felt her lead was considerable.

  She thought of Kevaan while she was riding and how mad he’d be when he discovered her gone. She promised she’d wait, but if she had she would’ve risked Fallon arriving before she could go. It was better this way. She did not need to make Kevaan worry about anything else. He had enough to worry about. If her father was indeed being controlled by Fallon somehow, Kevaan would need to concentrate on finding out how and why. He also needed to make sure his future kingdom did not fall apart in the meantime. She could take care of herself.

  Late afternoon was approaching, and she wanted to spend her first night in shelter, for there would be too many nights in the wilderness without any protection. She needed to go into Tamerlane and speak to Garreth the innkeeper. She knew he would put her up for the night. She had helped him solve many disputes with fellow property owners and spoke to her father on his behalf about bandits coming through every spring and stealing from him. Her father had dispatched wardens to roam the borders to keep the cities clear of trouble that might be passing through. Garreth cared about her, and he owed her. Although she never expected anything in return, she knew he would do it to pay her back anyway. He and his family could be trusted to hide her and keep things quiet. She had to be careful going into town though; she couldn’t be noticed, or she would be in trouble. Most of the villagers were simple people that didn’t want any trouble, and if trouble found them, information was the easiest way to make it go away. They would talk if threatened. She didn’t want anyone to have that chance, so she must go unnoticed. She knew in the daylight it would be harder, so she hunkered down inside the trees and waited for dusk. The gloom of sunset would make her stand out less, and that was the easiest way to slip by. Storekeepers and merchants would be busy closing up their wares for the night. They would be too occupied to pay her any mind. She figured she had about an hour, then she’d make her move.

  As soon as the sun started to set, and the gloom of dusk started to set in, she got back on her horse and went through the woods into town from the west side. She went across the bridge over the creek and passed under the still unlocked gate that went into the town. She rode slowly, not wanting to bring unwanted attention, and rode straight through to the Calderon Tavern on the far side of town. It wasn’t the nicest part of town; the buildings here were shabby, and the thick smell of stale ale and urine filled her nostrils. The tavern was at the end of a narrow street. It was the off season for travelers, so it was quiet tonight, but she knew that if it were discovered before morning that she had run, there might be a lot more noise than Garreth could handle. She hoped she had at least until morning before Fallon was on the hunt. A good night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast would make the hard ride across the border easier.

  She dismounted her horse and pulled her hood tighter on her head, wrapping the reins around the post and untying her bags. She threw them over her shoulder and entered the tavern.

  There weren’t many people yet, a few merchants already settling in for the night, eating a meal and having a drink before going home, but for the most part it was empty.

  She spotted Garreth behind the bar drying a glass with a towel. He was a large man, a torso like a barrel, muscular arms and legs, and hands the size of meat tenderizers. He had a full head of black hair and a full beard and thick mustache. He may have been just a tavern owner but he was tough, and although he couldn’t handle all the trouble that passed his way, he could handle a lot. She also knew that despite his size, he was also a softy, who loved his wife and son and would give the shirt off his back if you really were in need.

  She sidled up to the bar, trying her best to look inconspicuous, and sat down on the stool closest to him. He turned from drying his glass, tossed the towel over his shoulder and looked at her.

  “What can I get you, stranger?”

  She leaned in closer and whispered. “Garreth, it’s me, Melenthia. I need a room for the night, and I need it quiet.”

  He eyed her closer and put his hands on his hips. “Is that so? Do you have enough coin to pay for the room, and the silence?”

  She pulled the hood back just enough for him to see her face, and he jerked back, surprised. He recovered himself and leaned in closer.

  “Melenthia, what are you doing here? What’s going on?”

  “I’ll fill you in when I’m somewhere where curious ears cannot overhear.”

  “Okay. I have a private room, in the back. I will have Kya take you there. I’ll be up later, and you can talk.”

  “Okay.”

  So as not to be noticed, she slid a couple of gold pieces across the bar to him. He smiled, picked them up and put them in his apron pocket. He ope
ned the door at the back of the bar, to the kitchen area, and called for Kya. A plump woman, only about five foot, came out the door and looked at her husband. She had brown hair, speckled with gray which was pulled back into a bun on the top of her head. A few pieces had come loose and were hanging in her face, and she brushed them back with a flour dusted hand. She then wiped her hands on her apron and put them on her wide hips.

  “Please show our guest to the “back” room.”

  She eyed Melenthia warily for a moment, then looked back at her husband.

  “It’s okay, Kya.” He leaned over to whisper to her. “I’ll explain later.”

  Kya nodded to him, and Melenthia stood from the stool to follow Kya up the steps to the rooms located on the second level. The warmth from the small tavern chased the chill off, but since she wasn’t sure it was safe yet, she kept her hood up. She followed Kya down the dimly lit hall and around a corner, to a room that was separate from the others. She pulled out a key and unlocked it.

  She pushed the door open and went inside. She shuffled across the floor with quiet feet and lit the lantern next to the bed.

  The room was small, but cozy, and very clean. From the outside of the tavern, you’d never know that Kya and Garreth kept a tidy inn. This room, which looked mostly unused, was no exception. There were clean linens on the bed, and the floor boards were shiny and swept. There was a wash bowl and pitcher on the side board, and a bathtub sat in the far corner. There was also a small table and one chair.

  She smiled under her hood as she looked toward the tub. She didn’t know when she would get to take a hot bath again, so she wanted to take advantage of it. She may not always dress like a lady, but she certainly liked to smell like one. She went to the door and shut it and turned toward Kya, pulling off her hood. Kya stared in disbelief for a moment, then approached her and kissed her on the cheek.

  “What are you doing here, child,” she asked pulling a piece of short springy curl, “and in disguise? If I’d known it were you, I would’ve said something.”

  “I didn’t want you to until we were somewhere where no one else could overhear, or see. As soon as Garreth can get away I’ll tell you what has happened.”

  She took Melenthia’s hands in hers and squeezed. “It must be something terrible if you are here at this time of day. I will bring you up some dinner and hot tea. You get comfortable. I will send Conor up with some hot water. You take a bath and eat, then Garreth and I will be up in an hour.”

  “Okay.” She leaned over and kissed Kya on the plump cheek.

  When Kya left the room, she slipped her bag off her shoulder and set it on the bed. She stretched her back and legs to loosen the muscles from being on horseback all day, and sat down in the chair. A quiet knock on the door alerted her to the arrival of Conor and the hot water, so she opened it, and a young boy of about thirteen came in. He looked just like his mother, but taller. He had the same brown hair she did, but had a build closer to his father, muscular but leaner. He came in carrying two large buckets of water and dumped them into the tub. He had always had a crush on her, and when he saw her looking at him, he blushed.

  “I hope the water is the right temperature for you, Your Highness,” he said bowing.

  “Please, Conor, we’re not in court. It’s okay to call me Melenthia.”

  At that he blushed more. “I don’t think I could call you that, M’lady, it’s too improper.”

  She smiled at him again. “Trust me, from this point on, Melenthia is all I have. I no longer hold the title of princess.”

  “Has something happened?”

  “Nothing you should worry about, Conor. I’m going to have a nice soak in that warm tub, then talk to your parents about some things. It’ll be alright.”

  He bowed to her. “I will leave you to your privacy, Your..uh, Melenthia.”

  “See, isn’t that much less stuffy?”

  He smiled now, amused. “I guess so.”

  “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  He looked nervous again. “Oh, yes, I’m very sorry.”

  He backed out of the room and shut the door. She laughed, locked it behind him and proceeded to get undressed. The dust from the day was only lightly coating her tonight, since she had not yet gotten too far, but the warm bath would help ease her tension and refresh her. She needed to be well rested for the long journey ahead.

  While she soaked she went over in her head everything she knew so far. Fallon, having already acquired many parcels of land, and overtaking many towns across his realm, now apparently wanted land that belonged to her father. He was planning something and she was somehow the key to it all. She couldn’t fathom what on earth she could have to do with anything that related to power or riches, but the thought scared her. Her father had not been himself for quite sometime. He seemed so distant all the time, forgetful and melancholy. She knew that it had been hard on him after her mother had died, but this was different than loneliness. He seemed to have an agenda for every decision he made, and the agenda was not his normal one; it seemed more power driven. At times she felt he was afraid of something, like something had a hold on him, but he never let on as much. It was just something she noticed because she knew him so well. Obviously, Kevaan felt it too, and that’s why he knew she had to flee. She regretted that she broke her promise to him and didn’t wait for him, but things were happening faster than either of them planned. Leaving was the only choice. She leaned back in the tub and closed her eyes.

  ***

  Kevaan and his father were in the conference room, just after dinner, talking about the arrival of Fallon and his men. Melenthia had been gone for many hours, and Kevaan had not let on to his father of that fact. He thought surprise would be best. Telling his father would make him nervous, and Fallon would see right through him. Kevaan was not concerned about himself. He would never let Fallon bully him as he was trying to do his father.

  Kevaan sat at the table and watched his father pace back and forth across the room. Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead, and he was mumbling inaudibly.

  “Father, pacing back and forth isn’t going to make any of this better.”

  “Yes, I know. I’m worried that Melenthia will do something to make Fallon angry. That would be bad. She just needs to accept what is done and present herself in a mature and civilized manner. I don’t need her making this more difficult.”

  “We’re talking about Melenthia, father. She will not make this easier on you, you know that. She will more than likely make Fallon mad. We’ll just have to keep the situation under control. I’m telling you now, though, if he tries in any way to hurt her, I will put an end to it myself, pact or no pact.”

  “Maybe you should not be here when the final arrangements are made.”

  “Oh, I’ll be here, father. You chose not to tell me about your last meeting when you and he concocted this terrible deal. I will not let you dismiss me for this. If I’d been there for the initial negotiations, I wouldn’t have let you agree to it. Melenthia is my sister, and when she was born I made a promise that I would protect her, and if it means protecting her from you, so be it.”

  Randor stopped pacing and looked at his son, frowning. He was becoming angry.

  “You don’t wear the crown yet, my son. Having you present for any negotiations regarding this kingdom is only a courtesy. I’m still king, and I will make decisions for this kingdom without your input if I choose,” he said sternly.

  Kevaan was getting mad himself. “This is not a peace treaty between two hostile territories, father, or an implementation of a border patrol for safe passage between two realms. This is a marriage proposal between a tyrant and your only daughter. You must see that Fallon is trying to manipulate you, father. He will take control of this kingdom if you let him, marriage or not. There is something sinister in this plan, something that involves Melenthia, but I don’t know what it is. You must feel something.”

  “You are worried about your sister, Kevaan, I know tha
t, but that is no reason to start believing in ghost stories. Fallon is powerful, but there is nothing wrong with wanting to solidify your position.”

  “Father, do you hear yourself? He has enough land. He has already become one of the most powerful dukes in all of Aelethia. He has a huge army, bigger than what he needs, and he hasn’t earned any of it. This is more than wanting to solidify his position. It’s about power, ultimate power.”

  “You listen too much to local lore, Kevaan.”