by Nathan Roden
Sterling’s eyes narrowed and his face reflected the worst of his nature.
“This will never do.”
“I knew that you would not easily forget his outburst at the feast,” Raynard said.
Sterling pulled on his gloves and flexed his fists.
“Do you know what it means to be the most respected—the most feared—man in the kingdom? It means that I can close my eyes at night without the least bit of apprehension. If I was not capable of making the people soil themselves and quake in their boots, this would not be so.”
Raynard picked up a pitcher of water and drank half of it.
“It helps to have the right friends, and the coin to buy them.”
“I want Lucien watched,” Sterling said. “And every attempt made to keep him near the castle. The child will be born soon. I do not want any surprises.”
“Surely you do not fear anything from the boy,” Raynard said.
Sterling started to snap something in anger, but stopped himself.
“No,” Sterling said. “But something….something has changed. I do not know what it is. I do not like change. Change is unpredictable. Change can become…a problem.”
“Well, cheer up,” Raynard said. “The dragon now has nowhere to hide. He’s as good as dead. Just think of it—the grand celebration that will happen when that deed is done. The few who still dare whisper about the return of the ‘rightful king’ will have their day of mourning.”
“You mean, their first day of mourning,” Sterling said with a sly grin.
Raynard raised his brow.
“There are few who love our dear King Lucien,” Sterling said.
“But every sentimental fool will mourn the unfortunate death of the fallen king who has just become a father to a baby boy.”
Sterling finished dressing, to the best of his ability. He splashed water onto his face and stepped out into the day. He was still a little intoxicated and had a difficult time walking in a straight line.
He walked toward the stables. He passed different bunches of servants and soldiers who did their best to avoid him. A few of them saluted or addressed him. He dismissed them with a few grumbled words.
Sterling overheard laughter and the spirited talk of young soldiers. He spotted the clean uniforms of three of Lucien’s closest companions outside of the blacksmith’s shop. Sterling turned in their direction.
The blacksmith and his apprentice hammered in the background. Their dark clothes and grizzled skin made them fade into the shadows. Their white eyes watched warily as Sterling approached.
The three young men had advanced quickly since joining the army. They were promoted to the King’s Guard ahead of many others. They were physically impressive and gifted with both sword and bow. They garnered as much attention from the ladies of the village as they did from their military commanders. They all stood taller than Sterling as well as broader at the shoulders.
“Good morning, Lord Sterling,” the boys said together.
“Yes, yes,” Sterling waved them off.
“I am looking for Lucien. Have you seen him?”
Sterling saw something change in the boys’ expressions.
Something he did not like.
“He left early. With Oli—with his new squire.”
“I’ve already heard that much,” Sterling said. He squinted, and a bolt of pain shot through his skull.
“I need to speak with Lucien, today,” Sterling said. “Where was he going?”
“He did not say,” another boy said.
Liar, Sterling thought. He looked at the other boys. He did not trust any of them, and he knew that they were hiding something.
“Which way did they go?”
“East,” one of them said.
“How do you know that?” Sterling asked.
None of them had an answer.
“The three of you. Take horses and find Lucien. Bring him back here at once.”
“But, Lord Sterling,” one of the boys fidgeted. “We have no assigned duties today. We have plans with…well, with some young ladies, My Lord.”
Sterling shifted his weight on his feet. He closed one eye.
“You had no duties today. And now you do.”
Sterling eyed the biggest young man, who towered over him by almost a head.
He saw the young man’s nostrils flare.
“My Lord, Lucien is the king. Would it be unspeakable that he might have made plans of his own? He’s not yet of age, but there are certain…urges; even at fifteen.”
The other boys smiled.
“You can remember that, can you not, My Lord?” one asked.
Sterling stared ahead and then allowed the slightest upturn at the corners of his mouth.
Sterling looked inside the blacksmith shop. The smith and the apprentice were gone.
Sterling stepped toward a table that was just inside the double doors of the shop. He picked up a helmet and began looking it over.
“Does this belong to one of you?”
The biggest boy nodded.
“It was too small. It hurt my head—”
Sterling swung the helmet at the boy’s head as hard as he could. The boy was too stunned to move.
The helmet struck the side of his head with a sickening thud.
He folded to the ground.
“My Lord?” one of the boys questioned as he stared.
The other boys dropped to their friend’s side.
They looked up at Sterling.
“He’s…he’s dead.”
“And you,” Sterling seethed. “You seem to have forgotten your oaths! Obedience! Respect for your superiors! You—are unfit to serve in the Guard! Get that worthless, treasonous dog out of my sight! This instant!”
Fifty-Six
Jaclyn spent the evening with her mother and the inquisitive ladies who waited for them to return home. She covered her mouth several times when she could not help but yawn. The ladies used Jaclyn’s pregnancy as an excuse to relive every one of their experiences with babies and children.
At her own insistence, Jaclyn was not assigned a handmaid while she was in her family home. She sat at her dressing table until very late. She hummed and brushed her hair to pass the time. Until the time that she would leave her room and go to her special place.
The dark, high tower that faced the sea.
She knew that it was not wise. It had not been wise then, and it would never be.
She had kept the note.
Simon’s note.
She kept it where she thought it would never be discovered. She put the note inside the covered wardrobe that stood in the corner of the ancient tower room. It was the same room where she had met Simon, almost six years ago. She had been back there only once since she became queen; on the night that she first found the note.
She knew now, what she knew then. Keeping the note was the ultimate foolishness. It spoke the secret, private thoughts of the cursed and hated dragon—the boy who should have been king.
The boy…who should have been her king.
The boy…who should have been—
her husband. And the father of her child.
She did not need to read the note again. She had memorized every word. She recited it to herself when she was at her lowest. She had recited it in the few moments when she was her happiest. And she had quoted it, aloud, many times, to her baby.
But the note was one thing to her.
It would be something altogether different to the rest of the kingdom.
It was treason. It was heresy. And the single piece of parchment could cost innumerable people their lives.
Jaclyn could not bring herself to do the wise thing—to destroy it. The reason was simple.
It was the feeling in her heart as she climbed the tower steps. The excitement, the anticipation, and the joy—it was no longer hers alone.
She could feel her baby moving—and she knew deep in her heart that he was feeling the same emotions that carried her faste
r and faster up the stairs.
It was only a worn and weathered piece of parchment, with words written in fallible ink. The note was like any other living thing. It would not last forever.
But it was the most tangible piece of her dreams that she could touch with her hands. To pick up the parchment and read the words again—will be another homecoming. It will be like falling into Simon’s arms; like touching his face for the first time.
Jaclyn exhaled a ratcheted breath when she reached the landing. She could see her breath in the cold night air. She opened the door.
Every single thing was as she remembered it. The bed remained covered by a heavy cloth. The wardrobe was covered as well.
Jaclyn jumped when a window shutter clattered against the wall. She shivered when a blast of frigid wind blew past her. She wrapped her arms around herself and ran to the window. She grabbed the shutter and pushed.
A giant hand appeared next to hers.
Jaclyn screamed.
She saw the brilliant blue robe come through the window. The ten-foot tall giant stretched himself to his full height.
“What are you doing in my home?” Jaclyn screamed at the wizard.
“Get out! Now!”
Dathien laughed.
He raised his chin in the air and breathed in.
“Can you smell it, little queen?”
The giant lowered his head. His eyes met Jaclyn’s and seemed to burn into her soul.
“The stench of dragon flesh!”
Jaclyn looked away.
“You are mad! Invading the castle of the kingdom’s Viceroy!”
“Ah, yes! The fearless wolf hunter! Is that where your dear father is at this moment, little queen? Chasing wolves?”
“It is none of your concern—”
Dathien sniffed the air again.
“My concern is with the dragon—and any who might get in the way of its capture, and its death. There is one with powerful magic within the walls of this village. For some reason, I cannot find him. But I have found something else instead. The dragon has been here. I can feel him as though he stood here now.”
Dathien narrowed his cold blue eyes.
“Perhaps the little queen feels him as well. Perhaps…she has—”
“No!” Jaclyn shouted.
Dathien closed his eyes.
He opened them, and his gaze fell on the wardrobe. He stepped toward it and jerked the cover from it.
“I told you to leave!” Jaclyn said. “I don’t care what arrangement you have with Sterling, you have no right to—!”
Jaclyn ran at the wizard. He held up one hand and Jaclyn’s feet left the floor. She tried to run but her feet found nothing but air. Dathien opened the door of the wardrobe as Jaclyn swore at him.
“Such foul words for such a pretty little queen,” Dathien said.
“I am going to let you down now. It cannot be good for you or your child to be stretched out so. Be a good little queen, and you will not be harmed.”
“I am warning you for the last time, Wizard! Get out of my house!”
Dathien turned his attention back to the wardrobe until Jaclyn began hitting him with her fists. Dathien raised his hand again, and Jaclyn was forced back, against the wall.
“What could be inside this box that brings about such blind passion?”
“Ahhhh…”
Jaclyn screamed…the giant held the parchment in his hand.
His eyes scanned it. An evil grin spread across his face.
“I want you. Your friend. S.”
Dathien threw back his head and roared with laughter.
Jaclyn pulled with all her might. But she could move nothing but her head. She remained pinned against the wall.
“This is rich, indeed!” Dathien said with delight.
“The innocent little queen—who carries the king’s child—is in love with his brother! The filthy dragon!”
“I will have your head on the wall of Morgenwraithe!” Jaclyn spat. “I will see the crows feast on those evil eyes! My father will—!”
Dathien crossed the room in two giant steps. He pressed his hand over Jaclyn’s mouth.
“I think we both know that your father is nowhere near this place. No. If I had to guess, he is with his precious daughter’s true love. Hiding him. Protecting him. Well, it will be for naught.”
“When he learns that the only way to save his precious daughter—and her child—will be to hand the dragon over to me.”
Dathien lowered his hand. Jaclyn spat in his face and called him the foulest names she could think of.
Dathien ignored it all.
He held out his hand, inches away from Jaclyn’s belly.
“Interesting. Do you know whether you carry a male or female, little queen?”
Dathien lean close enough to Jaclyn’s face that she could feel his breath on her cheek.
“I do.”
“Get your hands away from my baby!”
“Get away from her, at once!”
Dathien rolled his head back and laughed with satisfaction.
“I should have known! I should have guessed that the little queen was the key to finding everything I am looking for!”
“The magic blind boy!”
“I said—get away from her, this instant!”
“You find your way without seeing—impressive magic, indeed! And you were able to hide from me. You would be most welcome in my homeland. Your talents could be cultivated, in a land where magic has value! Unlike this place where you hide in the shadows like a little mouse! Tell me, boy! Does the little queen bring you crumbs from her table, or do you have to scavenge them for yourself?”
“You know nothing about me, Wizard. And you know nothing about the queen.”
Dathien laughed again.
“Oh, but I have learned so much about your virtuous queen today, my fine young fellow! Did you know that she and the dragon share a filthy little secret?”
“I know better than to be distracted by a common mercenary.”
Another laugh.
“Please, magic boy! Mercenary, yes. But common? I must disagree!”
“You kill in order to obtain spoils. And you kill for pleasure. This is common.”
“It is true, magic blind boy. I will take great pleasure in your death.”
Dathien raised his hand quickly and a bolt of lightning flew at Caleb. Caleb raised both hands and deflected the blast out of the window. The corner of the bastion exploded.
“Impressive, indeed,” Dathien said. “I do enjoy a challenge!”
“Get away from her.”
Dathien grabbed Jaclyn and pulled her to his chest. She kicked and swung her fists at the giant. He did not even seem to notice.
“On the contrary,” Dathien said. “The little queen will make a most excellent shield!”
Caleb lifted one finger. Dathien sniffed the air.
He let go of Jaclyn when he realized that the bottom of his robe was on fire.
Jaclyn ran to the far corner of the room as Dathien quenched the flames. The giant roared.
“Hide yourself!” Caleb called to Jaclyn. She threw herself behind the bed.
Caleb lifted his hand. A blast of energy threw Dathien against the wall. Parts of the stone wall crumbled.
Dathien loosed another blast at Caleb. Once again, it was deflected.
Dathien raised his other hand, and the bed rose to the ceiling. It hovered there over Jaclyn.
Caleb threw up both hands.
“No!”
Dathien threw his hands toward Caleb, and the bed flew across the room. It knocked Caleb to the floor. Dathien crossed the floor and threw the bed out of his way. He grabbed Caleb and pulled him to his chest.
“Say goodbye to your queen, boy! With your last breath!”
The door burst open. A blinding shape flew in. It bounced off of the bed and onto the giant’s back. A tiny pair of hands gripped and climbed the massive blue robe.
Dathien raged, as he tried to h
old onto Caleb and swipe at the attacker on his back at the same time.
“Sara! No!” Caleb screamed.
Jaclyn looked up from the floor, unable to say anything.
Sara dodged away from Dathien’s hand. She held on, even though the giant’s fingernails cut into her tiny arms.
She made a final leap onto Dathien’s shoulders and placed her hands against the side of his head. The wizard’s grip went slack. Caleb slipped to the floor. Dathien collapsed to his knees. Sara held on.
The giant’s eyes rolled up in the back of his head. And he was still.
Sara jumped to the floor.
“Caleb! Are you all right?”
“I am not hurt. My queen—!”
“I am not hurt either,” Jaclyn said. “Is he…dead?”
“No,” Sara said. “I could try…”
“No, Sara,” Caleb said. “We must go. Now!”
They ran down the stairs as quickly as possible. Jaclyn held Caleb’s hand. The magic that had allowed him to find his way to the tower room was gone, and he had to have help. Sara led the way.
At the bottom of the stairs she almost ran right into Finn and Lady Lamont, who was carrying Zeke.
“You frightened us silly, children! What were you doing up there? The noise! Half the village is awake!”
“The giant is here!” Jaclyn said. “Sterling’s monster! He tried to kill us—we have to go!”
“Get the horses, Finn!” Robinette said.
“No, Mother,” Jaclyn said. “You have to stay. The giant knows…he knows too much. You must stay—and tell them nothing! Put guards on this tower. The wizard is unconscious, but we do not know for how long. We have to warn father. There is little time.”
“But what about the children?” Robinette asked.
“Sara and Zeke will be safe here,” Caleb said. “Sara can keep them hidden. I have to leave. The wizard will follow me.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do.”
“I will return with two horses, and my second lieutenant,” Finn said. “The queen will ride with me. Caleb, you will ride with Lieutenant Winston.”