“Chaos… Caleb, you must stop thinking like this. The gods will hear you and punish you for speaking out against them. You’ve heard the sermons; Niflhel is not where you want to go, ever.”
“Shouldn’t there be a better reason for wanting to be a good warrior other than fear of going to Niflhel? I no longer feel the passion in my heart like I once did, Brother. I feel… I feel dead inside, like none of this matters.”
“What doesn’t matter? Our lives? The promise of Freyja and the fields of Fólkvangr?”
“All of it, Varan. I’m glad that the Commerce Guild has decided that there can be only one champion. I’m… I’m ready.”
“Ready for what?” Varan asked angrily. He already knew what Caleb wanted, but he needed to hear the man say it.
“I’m ready to die.”
“We all are. That is what we do.”
“No, I don’t mean ready to die like we say in the Warrior’s Pledge,” Caleb said. “I’m ready to leave this world, whether that’s in the arena or some other way, I no longer care. I’m ready to see what the next stage holds for me.”
“The way you’re talking, that may well be Niflhel.”
“Then so be it. You are the Primus, the best of us. You deserve to be the single champion, Varan.” Caleb turned back from the hallway and looked at him. “I want you to be the one who sends me to the afterlife.”
Varan’s vision began to get blurry. He tried to hold back the tears, but they flowed on their own, refusing to listen to his silent demands to stop.
Caleb smiled. “Brother, these are my own terms. I would rather die as I wish, propelled into Freyja’s waiting arms in Fólkvangr by you, than to be killed in some backwater arena by an opponent who means nothing to me. Do me this honor.”
Varan wiped roughly at his eyes before staggering to where Caleb stood. He wrapped his handcuffed arms awkwardly around the older man’s neck and placed his forehead against Caleb’s. “I will do this, Brother. You will forever be remembered as the greater of the two of us.”
Caleb nodded, their skin rubbing roughly together. “Thank you. When is the fight?”
Varan wondered if Lucas had mentioned it, but he hadn’t heard him because of the grief, which threatened to consume him at the time. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.
FIVE
Tanya rubbed her stomach absentmindedly as the baby squirmed and moved inside of her. She’d developed the habit over the last several months as the baby grew, threatening to unbalance her completely. She felt like her abdomen had grown beyond any of the other pregnant women that she’d seen. Her mother, the queen, agreed that she was large, but laughed at her assertion that she was the biggest one ever.
Her cart jerked hard to the left, causing her to clutch her stomach in shock as she screamed, “Eep!”
“What are you doing?” Frederick demanded beside her.
“Sorry, missus,” the porter called over his shoulder without missing a step and ignoring Frederick’s comment. “There was a pothole that I didn’t see until the last second, ma’am. The wheel would have hit it and jostled you good.”
“Thank you for your concern,” Tanya replied, smacking her lover’s knee quietly for his outburst. “I’m glad we were able to avoid it.”
“These old roads take a beating when the water freezes in the cracks. It breaks up the old pavement,” the porter continued. “Before the end of winter, we’ve got another pothole that needs filling.”
“I’ll be sure to tell my father that the roads need more gravel in some places.”
“That would be much appreciated, ma’am. Your father is a generous king.”
Tanya laughed. “How would we know? He’s the only one you’ve seen, right?”
“That he is, ma’am. But he usually gives us what we need—when it’s reasonable of course—and his army keeps us safe. Homelake is better off with him as our ruler than that damn, penny-pinching council.”
“Well, thank you, sir,” Tanya answered politely. It was better to keep her own feelings on the council to herself than be baited into a discussion with the taxi driver, whom she only knew in passing.
She settled back against the cab’s seat and stared off to the side. The sound of the porter’s feet crunching against the gravel filled her ears as the old rubber wheels on the cart passed rapidly over the hard-packed ground. The porter was correct; the roads had really taken a beating this winter. The old world pavement was almost completely concealed by gravel these days, layer upon layer of the small rock covered one of the many marvels of the past that the city’s engineers could no longer recreate.
Her hand started absently rubbing on her stomach again. The baby’s movements inside of her caused her to smile as she waved to the townsfolk milling about on the side of the road. Winter was beginning to wind down and everyone was venturing out of their homes, some possibly for the first time in months. Shopkeepers cleaned away debris, long hidden under snow and ice in front of their stores. Woodsmen offered discounts on split wood, knowing that their trade would go into a period of disuse for five or six months. Here and there, old friends reunited. Homelake was waking after its winter slumber.
The Keep’s doctor assured Tanya that she’d go into labor soon and since most women were laid up for a week or two after giving birth, she was headed down to the lake market before the delivery to find something special for the baby. She began listing everything in her head that needed done before he or she came and was quickly overwhelmed with the seemingly never-ending list of preparations for bringing a baby into the world.
Her father had given her two entire suites on the sixth floor of The Keep. One of them would be her personal chamber, which included a crib in the room if she chose to sleep with the baby, and workers transformed the second room into a nursery. Garrett had the old door reinforced with multiple ways of locking from the inside and the windows bricked over, except for small portholes near the top to allow fresh air into the room. The engineers stated that the windows were safe, incapable for a child to fall out of or an intruder getting through the barricade.
Tanya hated that the nursery was so dark, but her father insisted that it was for the best. The years had passed rapidly after the Seers’ proclamation that the Vultures were coming for the Traxx family with no evidence that they were correct. The Guard and militia constantly expanded and improved upon the town’s defenses, but she felt like it was a waste of time and resources.
Her mood turned dark as she thought about the hours spent in conversation with her father about the city’s fortifications. Hadn’t her family learned that walls, no matter how big or how well defended, weren’t the best solution? Walls had surrounded the old compound where slavers attacked and kidnapped her cousins. Walls had defended the city of San Angelo in Aeric Traxx’s time as well and the Vultures rolled over them with their big war machines. While the king admitted that the fortifications of their ancestors had failed, he refused to be swayed from building higher and more defensible walls around Homelake.
She didn’t know what the alternative was, though. That was the problem with her arguments. She felt it involved a series of political deals, cooperating with the other towns for mutual protection. Her father was a fervent economist, establishing trading partnerships with every community that they knew of, but he continued to be an isolationist when it came to military matters. He preferred to handle things himself and pushed the militia in their battle drills.
Thinking about the single-mindedness of her father always gave her a headache. Her mother and Dr. Ephraim both agreed that getting worked up about things that were beyond her control was not good for her or the baby. No one could sway the king’s belief that the Vultures were coming for them, so the city continued to be fortified for war.
The taxi came to a stop in front of a brick building with a sign above the door proclaiming that it was “Burrell's Toy Store.” Tanya had picked this store because of the owner's widespread trading network. The general stores simply di
dn't have the selection of old world toys like this one did.
She'd visited the toy store before, but hadn't been able to find something that she felt the baby would like. The princess hoped that Mr. Burrell had been able to find new items since the last time she'd been to his establishment. It was a long shot, though. The winter months were harsh across the foothills and not many travelers risked the dangers of the land between the wastes and the various pockets of humanity.
“We're here, Princess,” Frederick stated.
“Hmm? Oh, right. Sorry, I was thinking about the walls and then about the last time I came to the toy store for the baby.”
“You don't have to explain yourself to me,” he countered. “We've rented the taxi for the day, so you could sit here until the dinner bells call us home if you'd like. Or until the little prince or princess decides to make an appearance and I have to catch him before he falls out of the carriage and learns to ice skate early.”
Tanya laughed at his attempt at humor. He was so awkward around her when they were in public, which was as different as the night from the day when they were alone. “We have time; don't worry, Frederick. Dr. Ephraim said there are still at least two months until the baby will come. Just yesterday, he cleared me to leave The Keep on my errands. We have nothing to worry about, okay? Now, please help me down.”
She leaned forward, scooting her butt to the edge of the seat to make the point that she was ready to go inside the store. Frederick slapped comically at the door handle in his haste to exit the carriage, causing her to giggle once again. Gods, I love that boy.
“Hold on, my lad—aaaeeeii!” he cried out as he slipped on the ice in his haste to come around to her side of the carriage.
She slid over to the opposite side of the taxi's bench quickly, jostling her stomach uncomfortably. “Frederick! Fredrick, are you alright?”
“Ungh…” The sound of his groan drifted from far below her. She tried to lean out over the door to see him, but her stomach pushed up against the side of the carriage and wouldn't allow her to see.
“I’m fine, your highness. Luckily, I bounce well, so only my pride is damaged.”
“Oh, thank goodness! I couldn't bear to see you hurt,” she called down.
His hand appeared, startling her as he gripped the side to pull himself up. When she saw him, she had to place a hand over her mouth to smother the giggle that burst forth. “You, ah… You've got something stuck in your hair there, Frederick.”
“What?” he asked in alarm as he let go of the taxi with one hand and reached up to feel his hair. The Guard came away with the watery remains of an old broadside, whatever ink had been left in the old newspaper was now transferred onto the side of his face. “Oh, this is totally undignified for a member of the Traxx Guard,” he muttered as he flung the newspaper away and reached for his handkerchief.
Tanya's giggle erupted into a full, roaring laugh when she read the backward print stamped across his cheek. Of all the different broadsides printed over the long winter, what were the odds that it was this particular paper—known for their love of all things scandalous—that found its way into the street and lay in wait to ambush them?
“What's so funny now?” Frederick asked, hurt by her reaction.
“Oh, gods! You have… You have…” She took a moment to breathe and compose herself. Then, she continued, “That newspaper was about us.”
“Huh?” he asked in confusion.
“Remember the article that The Truth ran a few months ago, the one about you and me?”
“Of course. How could I forget?”
“Well…” She dabbed at the corner of her eyes with her own handkerchief. “You have the headline stamped across your cheek…”
“What?” he gasped.
Tanya burst out laughing again when he darted around her to peer into the carriage’s back windscreen.
“What the?” Frederick scrubbed vigorously with his handkerchief, but the words ‘Stud For Hire,’ emblazoned on the side of his face, wouldn’t budge. He stopped and looked back at his reflection. “Oh, no…” He spit onto the fabric and scoured his skin roughly with it.
“Stop it, Frederick. You look like a fool!”
“More so than being branded as the royal stud?” he asked, one eyebrow arched upward as his grimace caused him to squint.
“Okay, maybe not,” the princess conceded. “But your face is as red as a beet.”
He rubbed his cheek a few more times and gave up. “We must return to The Keep. I can’t be seen in public like this. Can you imagine what the papers would say next?”
“I’m the princess, Frederick. You don’t have to worry about the newspapers following your every move and being publicly embarrassed all the time.”
“That may be what you think, Princess, but I am in the spotlight because of our relationship.”
He has a point, she thought. Her lover was in the public eye as much as she was. Maybe I need to start considering his feelings; he didn’t ask for this. He didn’t even know who I was when we first met.
She placed a gloved hand on his shoulder and smiled, even though it hurt her cheeks after laughing so much—both at his initial clumsiness and then at the words imprinted across his cheek. “It’s almost gone,” she lied. “No one will notice. I promise.”
Frederick swiped once more at his face in futility and then crammed the handkerchief into his pocket. “What do they use for the ink on those broadsides?”
“They use acids from an oak apple and iron filings.”
“How on earth do you know that?”
“Before you met me, I worked as an apprentice in a news shop. I learned how to make ink while I worked there,” she replied.
“It seems like you tell me about some other occupation you’ve had every day. What else have you done?”
“My father wasn’t always the king, you know. We had to scrape by and help out wherever we could, so I had several jobs when I was younger.”
He shook his head, “You will never cease to amaze me, Princess.”
Her hand still lingered on his shoulder, so she let it drop slightly down to his back and shoved him playfully toward the store. “Come on. Let’s go inside, I’m freezing.”
“Yes, ma’am. Let’s see what Burrell has managed to find this winter and then return to The Keep as soon as we can.”
Tanya repressed her urge to grin once again as her rosy-cheeked stud led the way to the toyshop. As he opened the door for her, he called out, “Her Royal Highness, Princess Tanya of the House of Traxx.”
She hated that the members of the Traxx Guard were required to do that every time one of the Traxx family entered a building, but Nicholas insisted that his soldiers do it. He said the routine helped to establish them as the royal family among the residents of Homelake—something Tanya thought was rather silly since all of the Traxx, except for her mother and aunt, held regular positions within the community. She wondered if her younger cousin Brandt’s coworkers tired of his personal guard telling them that he’d arrived for the day to throw wood into the blacksmiths’ fire.
The shopkeeper, a burly, hairy-armed man named Doug Burrell, came around his counter and met her just inside the doorway. “Princess Traxx, what a lovely surprise. Would you like to see our new baby toys or are you here for something else?”
The baby inside of her pushed its foot or fist out hard and Tanya grimaced, catching her breath painfully. She held up a finger and leaned into the doorjamb to adjust the baby’s position. Her hand drifted to her stomach and she could feel a rock-hard little body part pressed outward and then it pulled back, only to push out from another area on the opposite side. The little one is moving a lot now. Normally the baby waited until after she’d eaten to become so active.
The baby’s foot pressed out impossibly far, causing her skin to stretch. For a moment, she panicked, remembering the dream that she’d had a few nights ago. In it, the baby had been moving, much like it was now, and four large claws burst through
her abdomen as the demonbroc that grew inside of her clawed its way out of her stomach, covered in blood and gore.
Tanya blinked away the vision that her overactive imagination gave her and bent over, placing her hands upon her knees to relieve the increased pain in her lower back. The baby kicked her in the kidney and she shot upward, regretting the sudden movement because of the lightheaded feeling that followed. She felt like the little one was beating her from the inside. Is this how the next couple of months are going to be? she wondered miserably.
“Is everything all right, Your Highness?” Frederick asked.
Tanya struggled to get a breath and to stay upright. “Chair,” she gasped.
The shopkeeper appeared with a sturdy metal folding chair and she sat heavily onto it. The throbbing in her lower back eased slightly, replaced by an uncontrollable urge to use the restroom. Was that what was the matter with her all of a sudden? Were the contents of her bowels crowding the baby? I feel silly asking for this.
“Um… I’m sorry, Mr. Burrell. Do you have a bathroom?” she asked tentatively.
“Of course, Princess. I have one in the back of the shop. Let me show you.”
Tanya accepted Frederick’s hand under her arm as he helped her to her feet. “This baby is trying to beat me up today,” she muttered.
The shopkeeper pointed out a few items on the shelves that were new as they walked toward the far end of his store. Tanya took note of several things, especially those still in the original packaging. The cardboard boxes and backings on most of the products were yellowed with age, but the clear plastic was still as pristine as the day it was produced, possibly meaning the toys inside were radiation-free.
“Here you are,” Burrell indicated a small, dark room. “Let me light the lamp.” He struck a match and ignited an oil lamp inside the bathroom before stepping out of her way.
Tanya went inside and closed the door. The acrid scent of the lamp’s burning wick made her nose crinkle—although she was thankful for the small relief from the odor of the bathroom itself. It needed a good cleaning and she eyed the toilet warily, and then gagged at the stench. It couldn’t be helped, she had to go, badly.
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