The Crown Of Yensupov (Book 3)

by C. Craig Coleman

Augusteros noticed the man’s lip trembling.

  Everyone in the room and the small reception chamber outside waited for improvement in the queen’s health. Fear and worry were everywhere. How long before the queen recovers? What will happen if the queen passes away? Who will succeed? Where is the crown prince? Where is our lost Prince Saxthor? Courtiers kept filling the private reception room beyond the queen’s bedchamber as word of the queen’s collapse spread through the palace.

  The chatra rushed to Prince Consort Augusteros as soon as he heard of the queen’s condition. Augusteros granted Chatra Rakmar permission to kiss the queen’s hand. Then he returned to Augusteros.

  “Your Highness, rest assured I shall attend to matters within the palace to keep the government running smoothly and to calm the people’s fears.”

  “We authorize you, Lord Chatra, to do what is necessary to maintain order during this crisis.” Augusteros turned and looked over at the queen. “I shall be away but a moment, my dear,” he said to Eleatsubetsvyertsin, though he doubted she could hear him.

  The prince went to a small writing table and wrote out a statement about the queen’s condition. He rose and motioned the chatra to him.

  “Have this copied and posted around the palace. I want to quiet the court and prevent rumors from spreading that could cause panic.”

  The chatra bowed and withdrew to attend to the court functions. Augusteros wrote a letter to the crown prince in Powteros to return immediately or forfeit his claim to the throne. The prince gave the letter, sealed with the royal seal, to his aide to take with all speed and hand deliver to Crown Prince Augusteros at Engwaniria, capital of the Powterosian Empire. Then Augusteros returned and sat on the bed beside his wife.

  “I’ll be here if she needs me,” he told the herbalist. He held her hand, then, hearing the hum of constant conversation speculating on the queen’s condition, he rose and turned to the room.

  “We appreciate your concern, but would the officials and courtiers, except the herbalist and the queen’s ladies-in-waiting, please wait outside in the reception room?”

  Augusteros sat again beside the queen on her bed. He lovingly caressed his wife’s hand and brushed back her hair, while he waited for her recovery.

  “She likes her hair to be presentable at all times,” Augusteros said to the herbalist almost like a child, grabbing for anything reassuring rather than face something he can’t endure.

  After a time, the queen rallied and regained consciousness. She cleared her throat and looked around. “I never should have tried to make a hellebore hold its face up,” the queen said. There was a frail smile on her trembling lips. The prince patted her hand and let her say whatever she wanted. “We had a pretty good run, didn’t we, my love?” She looked up at him, and he felt his eyes watering, wiping away a tear in her eye.

  “We did magnificently, my dear,” the prince replied choking back his tears.

  “Father would have been proud that we restored the kingdom’s fortunes after his death.”

  Augusteros saw fleeting strength in her eye, a look of pride on her face. He patted her hand and nodded; he wanted to answer without robbing her of her time to speak.

  “Remember how bad things looked then?” She looked up at the ceiling, and he saw she was remembering. “We showed them what true royalty is, and how majesty can restore the confidence of a nation. We showed a nation how to believe in itself and fight back.” She noted his smiling confirmation.

  He nodded. “Yes, my dear, you did.” Augusteros didn’t see the limp side of her face, or hear the slur of her words from that side of her mouth. How beautiful the queen was to him, as beautiful then as the queen he’d loved all his life. “I’m so proud of your strength and accomplishment through all the trials and tribulations of our years together. We’ll show them yet again.” He squeezed her hand.

  After so many years together, they understood each other’s thoughts even without speaking. Emotional pain was seizing him, but he patted her feeble hand and forced a smile.

  I must hold myself together so my pain won’t show and frighten her, he thought.

  “Our poor son Augusteros, he had it all and threw it away,” the queen said. A tear rolled from the side of her eye. Augusteros tenderly dabbed it with his handkerchief. “Augusteros could’ve been such a king if he hadn’t weakened and given in to self-indulgence.” She looked at the ceiling; not wanting her disappointment to reflect on her husband. “We do all we can as parents and hope for the best.”

  “The boy will come to his senses soon, my dear. I've sent for him to come at once.”

  “He won’t come, Augusteros, you know he won’t.” The queen couldn’t hold back her tears and so gave in to the years of disappointment. “His interests lie elsewhere and he’s been so long away from Konnotan and Neuyokkasin, he feels nothing for his people.”

  “He’ll come, my dear, you’ll see,” the prince said, refusing to accept that their eldest son wouldn’t return now.

  The queen recovered her composure and looked around the room.

  “Where is Memlatec, our wizard?”

  “He’ll be here momentarily, my dear. I sent for him as soon as we came back inside.”

  “Memlatec will know where our Saxthor is.” The queen looked up at the prince with such sadness. “It’s been so long since we saw our youngest son, so many years. Memlatec was wrong to keep him from us for so long. I fear I shall never look on his face again, Augusteros.”

  “Perhaps Memlatec can bring him, also.”

  Frustrations with his children tore Augusteros apart too. The princess royal had never married either. The alliance they’d hoped to make through Nonee’s marriage had never materialized, and now they saw all her efforts to restore the kingdom as pointless with their children scattered to the winds.

  “Lie back and rest, my dear,” Augusteros said. “I’ll be here beside you.” He stayed beside her, while she drifted in and out of a troubled sleep until Augusteros had Memlatec admitted to the queen's presence.

  *

  “Your majesties, I am so sorry to learn you’ve suffered so,” Memlatec said, bowing to the queen and then the prince. “I hope the queen will have the speediest of recoveries.”

  Eleatsubetsvyertsin rallied and tried to sit up a bit. Augusteros saw her effort and reached to help her. He gently lifted her with one hand, and slipped a pillow behind her for support. Her good hand trembled as she slid it across the bed and dropped it on top of Augusteros’ hand.

  “Come closer, Memlatec,” the queen said. Though very weak, she perked up upon seeing the wizard. “We’ve missed you at court in recent days. See what we have to do to get your attention,” the queen said through a strained smile.

  Augusteros blotted moisture from the stricken corner of her mouth. Her body was weakening, but for the moment, the spark in her eye was as vibrant as at her coronation.

  Memlatec stepped closer and stood beside the bed. Augusteros sat beside the queen on the other side. At Augusteros’ motioning, Memlatec sat on the bed beside the queen and held her other hand, though she had no use of it. His warmth couldn’t dispel her chill. He looked deep into her eyes and smiled.

  “Beside me on either side are the two men that guided me through my reign. You two gave me strength and courage when I was uncertain of my abilities and frightened. You protected me from misuse and encouraged me when I was in doubt. Your confidence in my abilities, and use of my own judgment helped me develop into the best monarch I could be. I was able to bring peace to the kingdom and stability to its economy because of your guidance.” She was exhausted and settled back further onto the pillow. The queen nodded to Augusteros to continue for her.

  Augusteros turned to Memlatec, “What I think she wants to say is that she inherited a nation, where the economy was collapsing, and people questioned their own future. With our guidance, she was able to restore the economy and her people’s faith in themselves through the monarchy. Our people have prospered through her reign. They
loved her for her wisdom, courage, restraint, and example.” The prince looked at his wife and she nodded her confirmation. She seemed more peaceful, content for the moment.

  “Your Majesty is the finest of monarchs and the best of mothers,” Memlatec said in his deep, soft voice.

  The tone of his words soothed the queen. She smiled at his comment, but more at his lifetime of love and caring.

  I’ve been beside her in every decision she’s made for the kingdom, and like Augusteros, I’m really a part of her too, Memlatec thought.

  “Do you know where Saxthor is?” the queen asked.

  “No, Your Majesty,” Memlatec said. “I do not. I know he’s in the north, and somewhere in southern Prertsten or northern Sengenwha, but that’s all I know.”

  He squeezed her hand. She struggled to lift herself. Again, Augusteros held her up and fluffed her pillows.

  “We feel our son, so long and far away, is safe with our Memlatec watching over him.” Her brief smile receded with her sinking stare. “We wish we could see our Saxthor once more.”

  The queen looked up at the ceiling. Tears ran down her cheek.

  A wave of sadness washed over Memlatec, seeing the queen’s anguish. He patted her hand. He saw the black pools deep in her eyes. He knew she wouldn’t see the sunrise again. He rose and addressed the ladies-in-waiting.

  “Would you ladies please give us a private moment?”

  The ladies curtsied and withdrew. With no one in the room except Eleatsubetsvyertsin, Augusteros, and Memlatec, the wizard took a crystal from the inner pocket of his long, rune-embroidered robe. Hesitating at first, he smiled again at the prince and then the queen. He put the crystal in her hand, closed her fingers around it, then wrapped his hands around hers. She looked up at him as the cool crystal warmed in her hands. The wizard closed his eyes and spoke an incantation. When he opened his eyes, he opened her hands and together they held up the crystal.

  Before them, above the bed, shimmered a vision. In the vision, Saxthor and Bodrin talked on Bodrin’s watch. They didn’t know the queen watched them or that Memlatec had awakened Saxthor through his dream. Eleatsubetsvyertsin almost sat up biting her lip, her eyes locked on the vision.

  “It’s the first time we’ve seen our son since you spirited him from the court as a boy,” the queen said. “He’s so tall, handsome, and strong. Those boys have grown up so.”

  Eleatsubetsvyertsin beamed, soaking up their every word and movement. As the crystal cooled, the vision faded and disappeared. The queen slumped again, but her eyes sparkled.

  “What a fine young man our son has turned out to be.” Eleatsubetsvyertsin struggled with the words and Augusteros brushed her hair from her brow. Her tears rolled gently to a peaceful smile. She took that joy with her when she left.

  Prince Augusteros choked and slumped over the queen clutching her hand in both of his. When he sat up and looked at her face, her smile and the peace there, he regained his composure. He kissed her and closed her eyes, then remained beside her still holding her hand.

  “I weep with you, Your Majesty,” Memlatec said after the prince recovered his composure. “I must ask Your Majesty never to reveal, what you just saw or the nature of how it came to pass. That information could put Prince Saxthor in grave danger.”

  “We understand,” Augusteros said through a vortex of pain. “We shall forever be grateful you gave us that moment of happiness and peace.”

  “With Your Majesty’s permission, I shall withdraw.”

  Saxthor is like a son to me, too, as the queen was like a daughter, he thought.

  “Again, we are most grateful.” Augusteros glanced up, smiled, and nodded, then returned to looking at his beloved queen.

  Memlatec withdrew to the reception room, where he hung a black cloth over the handles on the bedroom doors. The court wept. The chatra, with tears streaming from his eyes, sent messages to post throughout the palace that their beloved Queen Eleatsubetsvyertsin was gone. It proclaimed the Prince Consort, Regent of Neuyokkasin in the absence of a king. Mourning spread through the kingdom like billowing black clouds. A whole people wept at the queen’s passing. Many looked on her as their mother or grandmother.

  * * *

  Smegdor stood pressed back against the hallway wall just outside the Dark Lord’s workroom. He peered around the doorframe. The twisted wizard was studying a map of the peninsula, fingering different locations. “Will Your Majesty require my presence further tonight?”

  Before he could respond, the Dark Lord grimaced. Overwhelmed, he hunched over.

  “My wraith, my super-wraith is vanishing; it’s sucking my energy.”

  Smegdor jerked back behind the wall. The Dark Lord thrashed about and Smegdor heard things smash on the floor then something slammed against a sidewall.

  “Out of nowhere this useless prince-whoever comes along and wanders around the peninsula destroying the best my powers can devise. I’m to going unleash any and every force that can find and terminate him. Smegdor!”

  Smegdor peered around the doorframe.

  “Issue orders to the commanders for the orcs along the Edros Swamps to mass along the border with Prertsten, and they’re not to be subtle about it. Have the commanders order still more orc cohorts into Prertsten. Prince Pindradese is to maintain them at his expense. I’m not about to tolerate his wavering at this stage.”

  The king hates it when he loses control in a rage, thought Smegdor. Blue sparks popping between mineral encrusted fingernails scare me. It makes him even more irritable and unpredictable.

  Silence smothered the tirade. Smegdor stood at the door, not daring to leave, but scared to stay. The Dark Lord turned, his yellow irises set off in red orbs.

  “Well, what are you waiting for? Get on with it.”

  Smegdor rushed away to attend to the directives, pain throbbing in his bad leg. He issued the orders to scribblers and hurried back to the king now on the observation tower by the dragon stables.

  The king stepped out on his balcony, his slippers crunching on the previous night's sleet. “It’s winter and soon spring will come. The armies will march south. Prertsten and Sengenwha will see orcs, ogres and trolls in numbers they've not seen since the Wizard Wars generations ago. I’ve now dispersed so many of my creatures throughout those countries, I’m certain they'll achieve my goals. The remaining wraiths can remove anyone that fails me or hesitates to comply with my commands.”

  “How is your new dragon progressing?” Smegdor asked.

  “Magnosious is a very enthusiastic student. He learns anything I wish to share with him with one instruction. He’s learned how to increase both his fire’s heat and his lung capacity. He can vaporize whole villages in a single flame shot.” He turned, grinning at Smegdor. “The beast has learned to sharpen and manipulate his talons with more precision. Magnosious can pluck a villager from a rock crevice or lift the roof of a hut while searching for plump, juicy people without squashing the delicacies.”

  “Your Majesty was wise to bring Magnosious here for training.”

  “Come, we’ll go check on his progress. I’ve had to admonish him for his corpulence.” They went higher on the mountain to the dragon stables.

  “Magnosious, you’ve so much potential, yet that hag has failed you in training and exercise. You’re to be put on a diet and made to fly longer each day to increase your strength and stamina for the campaign ahead. No more helping yourself to meaty orcs you find around here.”

  The Dark Lord turned to Magnosious’ ogre trainer. “See to it he eats no more than half a dozen carcasses a day. Be warned.” Turning back to Magnosious, he said, “Now, fly ten times around the Ice Mountains. Don’t be huffing and puffing, you will melt the snow and flood the swamps.”

  They left with Smegdor limping behind.

  “Magnosious is a prize in your arsenal.”

  “Indeed, I’ll develop his force to perfection before the spring campaign.”

  *

  The Dark Lord held audience
in his throne room one day soon after when a frail man entered the audience hall. The king leered at the unusual supplicant. “Who’s that?”

  The chamberlain sent a runner down a side aisle. He returned and whispered in the chamberlain’s ear. The official said to the king, “One of your devoted followers has returned from Graushdem.”

  The king motioned the man to come forward. The bony man scurried up before the dais and fell on his face and knees, quivering in the sorcerer-king’s presence.

  “Well, what have you to report?”

  “Your Majesty, it’s such an honor to be in your presence.” The man’s head again touched the floor.

  “Yes, yes, get on with it.”

  “King Grekenbach of Graushdem led his forces against the Wizards’ Hall, during the daylight, when the wraiths were confined in darkness. The king overran the defenses there, slaying the orcs and ogres. They located the wraiths in their daytime resting places and brought them out into the sunlight. When they tore open the cases, the wraiths burned to ash in the light. The Wizards’ Hall is again controlled by Graushdem’s forces.”

  “So you drew the short straw as to who would bring us this news, did you?” Rage flared, but as a leopard crouching to strike, his voice softened. “We’d be surprised if you hadn’t made out your will.” A strained laugh cracked the ominous silent. The king looked over the gawking courtiers. No one moved.

  The messenger, apparently thinking the danger past, strained a sympathetic broken laugh. He started to look up. A ball of fire burned away his face to the skull roasting his brain. The sizzle died away as the quivering body collapsed. The Dark Lord laughed, looking at the sprawled body’s smoldering skull.

  “It’s always good to be prepared.” His anger satisfied, the Dark Lord smiled. “Remove that.”

  Two ogre guards at the edge of the dais rushed to cart off the carcass. The king turned to his chatra, who used to such responses, was unfazed.

  “While King Grekenbach destroyed my occupation force there, the king is ignorant of the hidden powers within the Wizards’ Hall. When the time comes, it shall be a race between Memlatec and me to see, who unlocks those powers. Dismiss the court; we’ll entertain no more petitioners today.”