A Dagger of the Mind (The Imperial Metals)

by Daniel Antoniazzi

  “I owe him this,” he said, “Go! Get out of here!”

  Vye blanked her mind, trying to clear her way out of the Land of the Dead.

  “Hello, old friend,” Argos whispered in Grimsor’s ear. The great demon shouted in agony. His body was gone. His mind was alone. Disappearing into oblivion.

  And then he exploded...

  Chapter 62: The Last King

  The sun rose.

  The enemy soldiers all retreated or surrendered. They had been driven so long by the will of Grimsor, and so sure of his invulnerability, that they were unprepared for his defeat. The ones who could get their wits about them fled on the rafts, though many were hunted down by Corthos and the fleet. Others simply collapsed and wept. The Council rounded them up and locked them away.

  Duncan and Nuria spent some time recovering from their wounds, but with Landora and the Twins healing them, they recovered quickly. When the Portal was completed, Duncan had grabbed the girl, mounted his horse, and galloped away as fast as the beast could carry them. They were clear of the blast, but still knocked over by the ensuing shockwave. The burst of energy swept through Anuen, breaking every glass item in Anuen and the neighboring city of Dalton. A very pregnant woman went into labor. An old man died. But other then that and the collapsed south wall, Anuen was still standing.

  Jareld and Duncan worked hand in hand to get the City back on its feet. Duncan, during his recovery, would discuss his orders with Jareld. Jareld would advise. It was a meeting of the minds, as the two of them would figure out the best course of action. And then Jareld would execute those orders, helping the people recover from the disaster.

  The Turin were helpful at first, though finally they decided to head back to their own lands. Grimsor’s defeat seemed to have cleared everyone’s minds. The Turin hoped that their Regent would also be fully recovered.

  ---

  Landora visited Duncan in the War Room, which continued to be the hub of activity as every hand on deck helped sort out the mess.

  “I hope the events of these last few weeks...” she said, “Will help keep the peace between our two peoples.”

  Duncan could see that she was trying to keep a formal tone while in the company of all the other Council members and servants scurrying to and fro.

  “I promised no harm would come to your people,” Duncan said.

  “Well, lucky thing you turned into the King,” she quipped, “Or I still wouldn’t believe you.”

  She leaned in, close enough for a whisper.

  “When I was in your mind,” she said, “I saw your true feelings. You opened yourself up to me so completely...”

  “Landora,” Duncan whispered back, “I have to help my people. And you have to help yours.”

  “Haven’t you figured it out? What this was all about?” Landora said. “They’re all the same people.”

  “I don’t know what you thought you saw in my mind...” Duncan tried to suppress the conversation.

  “I want you to know that I love you just as much as you love me,” she said. “And you cannot pretend you don’t, because I know it to be true.”

  They leaned their foreheads against each other, unable to express themselves as they wanted to at this time and place. But perhaps there were other times and places.

  “Goodbye,” Duncan said, “For now.”

  ---

  Jareld felt deja vu as the cleanup effort continued. He had seen the aftermath of a major battle years ago, at the end of the Argosian War. This one was different, in a lot of ways. A different city. A different kind of enemy. Jareld realized that he, himself, was different.

  He spent his days with Duncan and the Council, doing everything he could to get the City and the Kingdom back on track. And he spent his nights with Emily, as they rekindled their romance. It wasn’t all easy. Jareld was different, but so was Emily. And they both realized it. Still, they loved each other. And they were both certain of it.

  Late in the afternoon, after the Turin had departed, Duncan asked for a private audience with Jareld. There was a question which had been ignored for the past few weeks in the interest of keeping everything organized. There was an issue that was overlooked while everyone got back on their feet.

  “I heard what you did, while I was gone,” Duncan said to Jareld in the audience chamber of the Castle, “You completely reorganized the government. Made it so we didn’t need a King.”

  “Yes, but, at the time, I thought we would need a new form of government. Nobody will listen to me now that there’s a real descendent of the Rones.”

  “They’ll listen to me,” Duncan said.

  “How’s that?”

  “I will take the rank of King,” Duncan said. “But then you and I are going to work together to implement your idea. I don’t want the Kingdom... the country to be dependent on bloodlines anymore. And I don’t want that for my children.”

  “You don’t have children,” Jareld said.

  “Not yet.”

  “Well, even if your plan works, can you do me a favor?”

  “What?”

  “Have lots of kids. And only have kids with your wife. And make sure your wife only has kids with you. Because if I have to figure out this bloodline shit one more time...”

  And the two of them laughed.

  ---

  So it was. Duncan was crowned the King in a ceremony one month after the Battle of Anuen. And during his speech, he announced the end of the line of Kings. He declared that in exactly one year, he would step down, and in his place, an elected official would take over. The Council would remain to balance the power of the new Leader, but they would also be elected, not appointed.

  The festivities lasted a day and a night. This time, Emily wouldn’t let Jareld out of her sights. Luke Vye arrived from Deliem, now with a clearer head, and in a smaller ceremony, he was appointed the new Count of Deliem in place of his dead sister.

  Rajani arrived from the Turinheld with a delegation of her people. She had stepped down as the Regent, but she came to apologize for her actions. She knew it wasn’t her fault, but she also knew, politically, she couldn’t remain in charge. And the peace between the Turin and the Rone was too important to her.

  Together, the Rone and the Turin celebrated, sharing stories of their victories and losses. If the Peace Festival felt forced, the Coronation of King Duncan the First felt like a party.

  Of course, Landora had come down with the Turin entourage. She was now the official leader of the Turin-Guarde. Along with the Twins, they were training a whole new generation in the arts of magic. She boasted that they already had four new students.

  But, of course, she wasn’t there to boast, or for diplomatic reasons. For a few hours, she and Duncan disappeared into the Castle. Nobody really noticed. There were too many songs to sing, dances to dance, and drinks to chug. It was Nuria who went looking for them. And when she found them, she wished she hadn’t.

  There they were, naked, holding each other in their arms, looking into each other’s eyes. And Nuria knew at that moment what true love was, for it was so clearly in the space between those two that it could have no other definition. But she also knew what jealousy was, for it burned her to the core. In her mind, you could only look at one person that way in your whole life. And Duncan was wasting his chance looking at Landora.

  “I have to teach the new Turin-Guarde,” Landora whispered. “And you must rule your Kingdom.”

  “Only for a year,” Duncan said.

  “But even then, how will we be together?”

  “I will live in the Turinheld, of course.”

  “You would do that?”

  “For you, I would live on the moon.”

  “You will be far from home. From the ones who love you.”

  “But I will be with the one I love,” Duncan said.

  Nuria fled into the hallways, stifling back tears. She had saved the Kingdom because Duncan had made her believe in herself. Because she loved Duncan. But she hadn’t r
ealized until just then that sometimes, love could be a lie.

  ---

  Back at the party, Jareld and Emily sat together on a bench, laughing with a group of partygoers. A man stumbled up to the crowd, seemingly too drunk to stand. He bumped into James Avonshire before he caught his balance.

  “Excuse me,” the man said, “Can you tell me where the stage is?”

  “The stage?” Emily asked.

  “Yeah,” the man said, “I’m supposed to do a juggling act.”

  “Flopson!” Jareld said, recognizing the man. He embraced the jester, who seemed to sober up now that his entrance had been made.

  “What’s up, stinky?” Flopson asked.

  “Nothing much, smelly,” Jareld said.

  “No reason to start calling people names,” the jester quipped. Jareld introduced Flopson to everybody, then directed him to the stage. It was only when he was gone that Sir Avonshire looked down at his feet.

  “That’s strange,” he said. “Where have my bootlaces gone?”

  The rest of the group checked their own footwear. And, indeed, they were all missing their laces.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen!” Flopson called from the stage, holding up a cat’s cradle of bootlaces, “Welcome to the Coronation of the newest King, Duncan Smelly the First! Enjoy him while you can, because we’re bound to have another one in a couple of years!”

  ---

  When Duncan returned to the festivities, he pulled Jareld and Emily up to the stage. He hushed the crowd.

  “I know I’ve already made my speech tonight,” he said, “But I think we all need to thank the historian Jareld for getting us out of another mess.” The crowd cheered. “And let’s not forget Lady Emily for her part in getting the Council out of the woods.” Another cheer. “And now, at the risk of making too many declarations on one day, I’m going to make one more. And I think everyone’s going to like this one. Jareld, kneel before the throne.”

  Jareld did so. Duncan raised a sword over his shoulder. A plain old sword. The Saintskeep had been destroyed in the battle. The hilt was being kept as a piece of history, but all the magic had gone out of the weapon.

  “Master Jareld, do you pledge yourself to the betterment of the Kingdom of Rone, and swear to always fight for the people of that great country?”

  “I do so pledge myself,” Jareld said.

  “Then I hereby knight you Sir Jareld of Brimford,” Duncan said, placing the sword once on each shoulder. “Rise and join the ranks of the knights of the Kingdom.”

  He stood, and the crowd cheered once more. Duncan waved everyone to get back to the dancing and drinking. And Jareld mouthed a quick, “Thank you” to the King. Knighting him was a small and overdue gesture, but it meant something very important for him. He could now marry Emily.

  So the two of them agreed that they would be married in a couple of months. And Jareld would sell the manor house he owned as the Baron Dubon, and they would buy a house in the countryside, with a balcony overlooking a field of grass. Of course, they would only be able to visit there occasionally, as they now both had jobs in Anuen. But it would be waiting for them when they were ready.

  Chapter 63: The Banished

  Jareld had one last thing to take care of before he sold off the Baron’s estate. He had bought the manor house on Chelsea Street, less than half a mile from the Castle Anuen. The only modification he had made when he bought the place was to add a dungeon. A bit macabre, perhaps, but he had enough coins to pay for it and enough left over to keep it a secret. He only ever planned to have one prisoner.

  Jareld convinced King Duncan that Prince William should be banished from the Kingdom. There was already too much confusion over the line of Kings. Of course, you couldn’t punish William for his part in all that. But having him in the country would only create problems. Jareld knew of an Academy in a distant land, where William would get a great education. A retinue of servants was assigned to the False Prince, and they were prepared to sail that afternoon.

  Jareld had one last secret, one that nobody in the Council knew. Not even Emily. Only Corthos shared this secret with him, and the pirate would never tell. Landos was still alive. And he was living in the dungeon below Jareld’s estate. The new Magistrate descended into the basement to confront the old Magistrate. Landos scurried to his feet upon hearing Jareld’s approach.

  “Have you come to gloat?” Landos asked.

  “It terrifies you, doesn’t it?” Jareld said. “You put on a brave face, but already you’re thinking about how long I intend to keep you down here. Do you even know how long it’s been?”

  “No. Three months? Four?”

  “Five weeks,” Jareld said. “Do you see how time expands in the darkness? I was in the darkness for four years, and I think you deserve the same.” Landos sank to his bench, resting his head in his hands. Four years... “But,” Jareld continued, “I won’t keep you locked away, even though we both know you deserve it. I just wanted you to have a taste. An understanding of what you did to me.

  “William is banished from the Kingdom. I’ve arranged for you to be aboard his ship, under a false name. Once you’ve cleared our shores, you can reveal yourself to him. Do so before that, and you risk a real death sentence. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Landos said.

  “You can never return here,” Jareld continued. “Do you understand that as well?”

  “Of course. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  “Think about what you’ve done, to me and to the Kingdom,” Jareld said. He pulled a key out of his cloak pocket and opened Landos’ cell. “Corthos is waiting upstairs. He’ll take you to the docks.”

  And with that, Jareld left.

  ---

  When William’s ship was mile out at sea, Landos finally came to his cabin. William was so happy to see him, and he finally revealed to the boy that he was William’s real father.

  “But, why do we have to leave Anuen?” William asked.

  “Because a bad man tricked me,” Landos said.

  “Who?” William asked, a worried expression on his face.

  “His name is Jareld,” Landos said. “And I will tell you many stories about him. Because one day, when you’re old enough, you will return to Anuen. And you will defeat him.”

  ---

  Landos tossed and turned in his bed that night. A new life on a new shore. Sarah was dead, but his son was alive. From the crew, he had heard all the tales of the Battle of Anuen. The dreams and the nightmares. How the Monster had taken over people’s minds.

  And he realized that for the entire time he had been in that dungeon, he had dreamed of Sarah. She had been his guiding star. His hope. His reason for staying sane.

  But it occurred to him that he had never seen her in his dreams. Not the real her. Only his memory of her. Was she not sharing her dreams with him? Was it because the Monster had taken her mind?

  Of course. That’s what it must have been. He loved her. She had loved him. It was true and pure. They weren’t just together because of their shared sins. They were together because their love was greater than any other.

  It had to be...

  ---

  Six Years Ago…

  Sarah watched on as Vye placed her hand on Michael’s chest. A warm light filled his torso, closing his wounds, reviving him. He coughed as he woke. His eyes were the same bright green that she remembered. The same ones that had been in her dreams.

  It was night, but who knew which one. Sarah had been a prisoner for almost a week, Corthos had told her, but none of it seemed real. Her time alone in a room with the dragon Devesant would become something of legend, but her coy responses to people’s questions would come from legitimate amnesia of the event, not reluctance to talk about it.

  She had apparently even been unconscious as the jester Flopson had bounded up the balcony stairs of the Grand Hall and scooped her out of her resting place. Michael and Jareld and Vye had been fighting the Great Wyrm, keeping it busy. She still didn
’t have all the details. She had only been awake for fifteen minutes herself.

  Finally, Michael was on his feet. He was disoriented, and he seemed tired still, but he was healthy.

  “Glad to see you on your feet again, Your Royal Stinkiness,” Flopson said from the tree above.

  “Glad to see you’ve learned to address me by my new title,” Michael called back up, but then turned to Lady Vye, “How is everyone?”

  “Alive,” she answered. “Corthos and Flopson were unscathed. They watched over me until I came to. Sarah woke up from, I don’t know, some sort of coma or trance she was in. Maybe magical in nature. You and Jareld had the worst of it, but he’ll be fine as soon as I have enough energy to cure him. You were calling it awfully close.”

  “Not the first close call I’ve had,” Michael said, referring to his recent internment in the woods, recovering from an assassination attempt.

  “It’s going to be some time before I can help Jareld. If anyone wants to rest up in the castle, they’re welcome to it.”

  Without a word, Michael took Sarah by the hand and walked her back to the House of Vye. Vye would later explain that in her hurry, she had teleported them to a familiar place outside the House. A place she had been to many times as a child.

  Michael and Sarah were admitted to a guest suite in the House. As soon as they were alone, Michael kissed Sarah. And the kiss become an embrace, and the embrace became a desperate grapple to remove all their clothes.

  Until finally they were naked before one another. Standing apart, their hands linked across the space between. A look between their eyes of mirth, even though the War raged on in the world.

  “I love you, Sarah,” Michael said, “More than anything in the Earth and the Heavens.”

  But this made Sarah frown.

  “I love you, too. But I wasn’t always as certain as I am now. And… I’ve done something terrible…”

  “What is it?”

  “I was unfaithful to you. I slept with another man. And I’m carrying his child.”

  And at this, Michael staggered back. His hands fell away from hers.