by Ed Montalvo
The prince scanned the area, hoping there was enough room, but there were too many people. He ran from the main street, “Clear the streets!” In the mist of chaos, the Knights continued pushing people away uncertain what was happening. Something struck the prince’s back, and stumbled into the alley’s mouth.
A hand full of the people clamored the Knights to help him. They had their weapons drawn but were helpless against an invisible enemy that left no prints in the mud.
Dregous rolled to his feet and ran clumsily into the alley. He hid behind some crates on the far side. “You cannot hide. I will forever find you,” as it approached his hiding spot.
The prince kicked its crotch and pulled him against the crates. It stumbled and fell to the filth. Dregous uttered the wand’s command word. The back pressure would kill them both if he didn’t get out. He hoped to outrun the mist and pray the mud wouldn’t slow him.
The wand hissed while the steam rushed out as Dregous ran pointing back at his twin. The clone realized what Dregous had done. There was no place to hide. It has been millennia since he was defeated.
The steam’s deafening roar resounded, grabbing everyone within ear shot. The prince continued holding it at the clone. The back pressure rushed after him as the white mist enveloped him.
The people heard the terrifying noise from the alley followed by two horrible screams as Dregous sailed through the air from the pressure. The Knight shouted for all to take cover as he tumbled to the ground. The sound of Dregous’s agonizing scream, etched in their minds.
He rolled a few times to a stop, lying on his back. Some mud stuck to his face and damp clothes. The gentle rain cleaned most of the filth before stopping. His mother’s cloak suffered no damage other than soil. His black hose was torn along his left thigh and right knee with patches of red. His tunic had two holes burned by magical missiles. He struggled to his feet and teetered, looking up. “Fayhan fa’nocmeh,” he whispered. “You heard,” he looked at the ground, “Bahkek. Fayhan kunfooc nocmeh’fa. fa, Dregouc Von’Negrouc, Mourrt nocmeh fayhan!” He shouted madly. Glendel approached the prince, but dare not touch him. He groaned from his wounds, his eyes blurred. In the distance, he saw someone flying and chuckled. “Another angel,” he laughed hardily throwing his head back, gazing into the darkening sky.
Glendel saw the princess flying toward them bearing her sword. She wore a gold dress cut to mid-thigh. She looked like a Valkyrie. Dregous chuckled as she closed in. His wounds and magic drain took its toll, his smile faded then dropped to his knees, exhausted. “Dregous!” She landed before him and quickly studied the people. They looked shocked as did the knight. “Who is responsible?” she addressed Dregous, her heart bled.
Glendel shook his head, “I know not,” shrugging his shoulders.
“You returned?”
Tatiana kneeled, “Of course I returned,” she said gently.
“I must be the only Drouwen to see an Angel…,” he felt lightheaded, “Where… I am… so tired…” Dregous rambled as he toppled against her.
The fear of her feelings being known weakened, “You are here with me my love,” he didn’t respond, and pulled him against her bosom. The warm breath from his breathing eased her fear. “Rest, for the morrow brings us a new day…,” she cradled him, “…I love you,” she murmured kissing his crown, forgetting where she was and sniffed back her tears. The spectators slowly surrounded them while muttering the fantastic experience.
***
Hegtha burst open the grand hall doors, she was breathless. “What is the meaning of this?” Ceron demanded.
“The prince milord,” she panted, “A darkness threatens him!” The magistrate’s face grew pale. Ceron called the guards and sent for lord Gunthar. On their way, Hegtha spoke her native tongue informing the magistrate there was an unspeakable dark presence seeking the prince. He remained silent as she led. When they turned the street, they found the princess on the ground. They drew closer as she gently rocked Dregous’s lifeless body, weeping.
“Dear heavens no,” whispered the magistrate. Hegtha clasped her hand over her mouth in a silent cry, her eyes pooled. Ceron did everything he could to protect him, but the divines had their plans.
The sound of armor rose as Lord Gunthar and his men pushed through the crowd. “No,” he breathed, he didn’t dare approach the princess, fearing she may cast him away since he so was hard on him.
***
A townsman crashed into the Yellow Dragon Inn shouting, “Someone slue the demon!” patrons murmured to one another as they darted out.
Seeker’s heart went cold. The ducal prince dead. “It cannot be,” she whispered.
Rem’s heart skipped, “What the hell!” recalling his fallen brother and friend.
Tuke felt a rage he had not known since his parent’s death, “Gods be praised, no!” he shouted angrily as his fists trembled against the table. “It must be a lie,” he prayed.
“This cannot be…,” Rem pushed away from the table and charged the door with a mixture of pain and anger.
With a wound Seeker didn’t know how to nurse, “Come Tuke…,” They ran outside and followed the people. Moments later they found Rem mumbling to himself with his hands over his head grimacing. Another friend lost; because he was different. Tuke and Seeker stepped past him and saw the princess cradling Dregous.
“Gods of the great river no,” Tuke knelt by Tatiana as his throat burned.
Seeker’s chest caved for a moment and regained her composure, then addressed a spectator, “What happened? Did anyone see?” her Drouwen accent clear.
“Partly,” a man said while staring.
“What you mean, Partly? Where they flee?” She snapped.
“No one could see,” he answered.
The assassin glanced at the couple, “Explain.”
The man shrugged, “Something tossed him like a toy. But nothing was there.”
Seeker addressed Rem, unsure of the witness’s account, “What do you think?”
“Hell, I do not know…, I think what happened is beyond us,” Rem answered.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the witch.”
Tuke gently touched Tatiana’s forearm with a trembling hand, “Princess…?”
She glanced at him peacefully. Her puffy red eyes and nose seem to enhance her beauty, “He rests,” she returned her attention to Dregous, “I feel him breathing,” she gazed at Dregous with a tender smile.
“Oh thank the Gods,” Tuke sighed heavily.
“He lives!” a booming voice startled her. Dregous’s eyes slightly opened, then drifted off asleep again. “A thousand pardons your highness truly, a thousand pardons,” Gunthar pleaded.
“I will take him,” Tuke offered.
“My gratitude, but I will.”
“Your highness, allow me,” Lord Gunthar said. “It is the least I…, we could do for a friend.”
Tatiana studied him for a moment and saw the significance of his gesture. It marked the beginning Dregous wished for during their campfire talks. His dream was becoming a reality. She looked at him again, “All that you told me… has begun my love,” she whispered and kissed his forehead. Lord Gunthar wasn’t surprised of her affections for him.
***
The council reconvened that evening after everything settled down. All members were present. The priests had questioned Hegtha’s vision. They wanted to know, who had attacked Dregous and why? She explained it was a darkness that laid hidden before humans walked the earth.
***
Two days passed while the prince recovered. The council continued their debate. The clergy learned from Tuke, Dregous had visions of Angels speaking to him, but couldn’t recall their conversation. To add to their confusion, there was a demoness trying to steer him, to what end eluded them. It appeared Dregous’s path was destined as a pawn for the Gods.
The mages discussed how to handle the Drouwen, whether to allow him to stay or request his departure? It was clear death
wasn’t a deterrent. Others meant more to him than his own life.
“He is an enigma,” said the venerable priest.
“Why do you say that?” responded the Curator.
“He is unlike any Drouwen. Violence displeases him, and yet does so in the name of life,” he opened his eyes wide while gazing over the council, appearing confused.
“Surely that is not enough,” the Curator asked. “And let us not forget your order also kills to preserve life.”
“Quite right, but he is not a priest. I guess it is because he trained in your arts, yet knows ours,” the council whispered at the news.
“How is it you know this and not said sooner?” the magistrate continued his masquerade.
“I thought to resolve this myself, but could not. And there is something else.”
“Hold a moment, is not his mother a priestess? Surely, she must have tutored him,” Ceron commented, attempting to ease the priest’s fears. The old priest nodded thoughtfully at Ceron.
“I hesitate to share this…,” the priest started.
“Please continue,” Gunthar urged.
He regretted what he started, and scanned the council, “What is said MUST NOT leave this chamber by any means….” they nodded in agreement. “I have taken the liberty in summoning forces to aid in divining who is this prince.”
“And? Gunthar asked.
“As you well know, he is the son of a Duke of the Empire.”
Gunthar was unimpressed by the priests’ drama, “Aye, a known fact.”
“Of course…. By chance did he mention his father is the most powerful Drouwen in the empire, not only politically but militarily and magically? At HIS birth, he was named after the legendary black beast Dorian, the first known black dragon.”
“And how is that possible?” Gunthar asked.
“There is more. Dorian’s father was never known…, though that is common in the empire. However, I have discovered… Dregous’s maternal grandfather is in fact the legendary beast. Thereby inheriting frightening powers,” the old man started. The council’s murmurs silenced at the news.
“But is not the Empire matriarchal? How is a male to gain such power if their deity supports only females?” Gunthar questioned.
“Again, you are correct; hence the father’s blood line. There are powers here we do not understand. Perhaps Dregous is unaware. Something dramatic happened or is happening in the Empire, powerful forces are at work that enabled Lord Dorian to take control of his house, and set the prince on his path.”
“Perhaps it is time we question lord Dregous and the princess,” Ceron was grateful Dregous’s life was no longer threatened.
The council agreed. “Now that that is settled, we will reconvene on the morrow morning with witness’s, followed by the princess, and finish with the prince.
Chapter 19
What is trust? Some define it as loyalty, a dedication…, or dependability. I look for simple generalities. For example, trust may be compared to love. Love requires truthfulness, loyalty. So, when you tell someone you trust them, are you not in essence saying, you love them? Who better to place your trust than someone you love?
Lord Hellec tutorials
Tuke strode into the mansion’s morning room and found Dregous sitting with his bare feet up in an armchair reading, dressed in an off-white robe that resembled his traveling cloak. “Good morning my friend. How are we feeling this fine day?”
He mentally marked his place, “Good morning dear Tuke, I am well, due to your splendid care,” sipped his tea. “Would you care to break your fast with me?” he set the book on his lap and extended the platter of freshly baked breads.
“Oh, I am grateful but no. Every time I come you try to stuff food in me,” he chuckled. “Are you trying to make me portly?”
Dregous smiled as he chewed on the morsel of bread chased with tea. He suppressed the urge to laugh. Retracted the platter, “It is here should you desire otherwise…. …Tuke?”
He gave him a knowing smile.
“What is holy?” he studied the priest. The question came to him since the encounter with the witch and the demon.
A curious look came over the priest, “What makes you ask such a question?” Dregous wanted a clear understanding. Tuke simplified the best he could, of holy, unholy, moral, immoral, good, evil, light and dark. After which, Dregous contemplated and concluded from Tuke’s explanation, that holy, good and morality are a product of one’s environmental perspective. True evil or good is an unconscious action requiring no thought. Tuke never liked the sound of silence. It reminded him of the day his parents were kill by the undead. He was alone for days before the holy order found him. “By the way, where is the princess?”
Dregous set his book on the table, “She went to have the dress mended.”
Tuke rolled his eyes recalling the stunning beauty, “Aah.”
“Did you see her?” Dregous asked.
Tuke averted eye contact, “Oh, I did,” he answered zestfully and nodded.
Dregous leaned slightly closer, “How did she look?” he tried not looking too interested.
The eeriness of his eyes made him slightly wary. He brushed it off and recalled the sight, “Well, she was a sight to say the least. Though the gold dress was, short…, mid thighs, perhaps more. I dare say…, provocatively torn…,” Tuke paused, “Wait… you did not see?” he teased. Dregous opened his mouth to speak, Tuke cut him off, “I must confess I did not notice until someone else mentioned it.”
“Oh, come now?” he leaned closer, but the table restricted him.
“Ha! You should see the look on your face,” he slapped his knee shaking his head laughing.
Dregous leaned back eyeing Tuke with narrowed slits, “And you call yourself a holy man? That was purely diabolical…, bad Tuke,” he said.
He tried stifling his laughter, “I could not help myself,” he flashed Dregous a toothy grin.
“You are bad Tuke. I will get even with you,” Dregous chuckled.
“Get even with Tuke, whatever for?” the princess stood at the threshold.
“Angel…, back so soon. I thought you would be longer,” Dregous felt nervous. She shyly looked at him and smiled when he addressed her as such. It made her heart skip.
“Greetings Princess,” Tuke approached.
“Greetings; please, Tatiana will do just fine,” she hugged him and kissed his cheek then looked at Dregous. “Leave Tuke alone, he is dearly sweet.”
The priest blushed and shook his head, “Oh I cannot.”
The princess nodded, “Yes you can. In fact, it is a royal decree,” she ordered playfully.
He surrendered, “As you wish your highness,” he smiled and bowed.
“Tuke!” She playfully hit his shoulder.
He backed away laughing, “I am terribly repentant. I could not help myself….”
“Bad Tuke,” she teased.
Dregous chuckled, “As I said,” and awaited her reply.
“It could not be fixed. The best they could do is fashion another.”
“And how long would that take?”
“By weeks’ end,” she pouted.
He sighed, “So, you did not request it?”
“Of course I did, I just do not like waiting,” she confessed.
“Do you still have the one Tuke spoke of?”
“I think it is time I take my leave,” the priest made his way to the door.
“Tuke…,” she stretched, resting her hands on her hips and arced an eyebrow.
“I will return before nightfall,” he slipped away.
Her cheeks flushed, “He cannot be a priest,” she said playfully.
“I agree…,” moments passed in silence, “Do you?” Dregous pressed gently. They debated the torn dress. It was too short and uneven, she argued. He offered he may be able to magically mend it, if he could see it. After some back and forth she agreed.
Moments later Tatiana stood timidly at the threshold as Dregous studied. She cle
ared her throat. When he saw her his jaw dropped. Her wearing the garment was unexpected. The dress had a plunging neckline below her navel with a revealing cleavage. The gold tone enhanced her milky complexion and brought out her eyes and her black hair. The left was cut below her hip, the right at mid-thigh. The primitive diagonal cut was erotic even by Drouwen standards.
Her footwear was tantalizing. The thin gold embroidery drew attention to her lovely toes while the wedge heels held her a few centimeters taller. The lace wrapped around her ankles, up to her thick calves. She looked like a Valkyrie.
For the first time, he saw her whole and basked in her beauty and burned the image in his mind. His reaction made her smile nervously, “Well?” her voice shaky. Tatiana misread his silence. “I told you it is bad…,” she turned forgetting her bottom was slightly exposed.
His heart skipped a beat, “No no wait, I… like… I mean, the way you look. I… was not expecting anything so… so beautiful. You look like the Angel I saw. I did not think you could look more divine.”
She stopped, glanced over her shoulder with a shy smile, covered her bottom and stepped in. “I have news for you,” she said shyly. They forgot about mending the dress.
She mesmerized him, “What is it?”
Tatiana stood opposite him, “That was no Angel…” she held him in a childlike awe. “It was me,” she cast her eyes low.
He sighed, “I prayed it was.”
She giggled softly and sat feeling the cool chair on her bare bottom. “Ooh!”
“What is it?”
“Um, the seat…, it is… cool,” she blushed. Dregous smirked. “You never did say what attacked you.”
“Oh,” His tone serious as he leaned closer.
“If you do not wish…”
He interrupted. “It is not that. I will tell you anything you wish.”
Tatiana leaned on her elbows and looked at him batting her near white eyes, “So what happened?”