by Nathan Roden
Thirty-Seven
In the faint light of early morning, Noah pulled the hood of his cloak over his head. He moved the coach away from the Inn and stopped beside the road across from the mercantile. Magdalena, Sara, and Zeke were hidden inside the coach.
Noah drummed his fingers against his knees. He breathed easier when he saw the door of the mercantile swing open. Tanner passed through the door, carrying a bundle under his arm—food for their journey.
Tanner handed the bundle up to Noah, but almost dropped it when an explosion sounded.
“Thunder? And lightning?” Tanner whispered. “There isn’t a cloud in the sky.”
Noah climbed down. He and Tanner stepped inside the coach.
“Did you hear that?” Noah asked.
Magdalena nodded.
“I also saw—”
A faint but discernible roar reached their ears, from beyond Morgenwraithe Castle.
“That was the giant,” Sara whispered.
“Here?” Noah said. “The giant is here? Surely, he didn’t follow us.”
Sara pointed at Tanner.
“He knows you’re here.”
“Me?” Tanner said. “I’ve never laid eyes on the monster!”
“He can sense those who have powerful magic. That’s how he found Caleb.”
Tanner shifted on his feet. He smiled at Sara.
“But perhaps he is not as mean and powerful as he sounds. I understand a certain little girl was able to lull him to sleep.”
“The giant was not concerned with me,” Sara said. “He was trying to kill Caleb.”
“Ha!” Tanner said. “And he paid the price for that, didn’t h—”
Sara was not amused.
“The giant kills dragons. He has killed dozens of them.”
“Well, maybe next time—” Tanner said.
“There will be no next time,” Magdalena said.
“The giant will not make that mistake again,” Sara said.
“How do you know so much about this wizard?” Magdalena asked.
Sara looked down at her hands.
“When I put my hands on his head, I heard his thoughts. Pieces of his memories. Some of them made no sense.”
The others traded looks.
Magdalena knelt and took Sara’s hand.
“I’m sorry, Sara. Try not to let him frighten you. Soon, the giant and this village will be far behind us.”
“He’s angry all the time,” Sara said. “And full of hate. It’s all he knows. Nobody loves him.”
Magdalena touched Sara’s cheek.
“People have to make choices, Sara. The same thing is true for giant wizards. At one time, he was a baby. And then he was a little boy, like Zeke. He chose to be what he is, but I’m sure at one time his parents loved him.”
Sara shook her head.
“He never knew his father. He barely remembers his mother. They gave him away.”
Noah knelt and took Sara’s other hand.
“The world is a complicated place, precious child. Too many people hurt each other—often for little or no reason at all. But you are surrounded by people who love you.”
Noah pulled Zeke to his side.
“You and Zeke.”
“And don’t forget Caleb,” Sara said with a tiny smile.
Magdalena choked back a sob.
“We won’t forget Caleb.”
Thirty-Eight
Sterling dozed in the warm afternoon sun as his horse kept pace on the march toward Morgenwraithe. He was angry at the situation and angry at his dependence on Dathien to face a new threat. He was even angrier that he had had to curtail his drinking in light of these new events.
Sterling was jolted awake.
“My Lord! My Lord!”
The scout rode hard toward Sterling’s side.
“My Lord—!”
“Yes, I know you’re talking to me, Idiot,” Sterling snapped. “What is it?”
“The village is deserted, My Lord. And our scouts…”
“Spit it out, man!”
“Our scouts are dead, My Lord. They lie dead in the center of the village.”
“By fire?”
“I don’t understand, My Lord.”
“Dragons, you imbecile! Were they killed by dragons?”
“N-no, My Lord. By arrow. And by sword.”
Sterling slid from his horse. He stumbled and turned his ankle. He swore and walked to a servant boy.
“Wineskin. Now.”
The nervous boy produced one. Sterling raised it above his head and drank his fill. Raynard stepped to Sterling’s side.
“Continue on toward Islemar,” Sterling said. “Fan out three more teams of scouts. Ransack Evenshire for weapons and shields. Approach Islemar from the west. If you arrive there before the rebels, take the village—by whatever means necessary. See to it that Lady Lamont stays alive.”
“What if the traitors are marching on Morgenwraithe?”
“Lamont knows that he cannot let us take Islemar. For all he knows, we may have more mercenaries on the way at this very moment.”
“But his daughter is in our dungeon,” Raynard said.
“Oh, he will come for the queen—if we allow him and the goat-herders and farmers he has assembled to make a fortress out of his village. We cannot allow that to happen.”
“Where are you going?” Raynard asked.
“To bring that arrogant, overpaid wizard to where the real dragons are.”
“Are you forgetting about the dragon-king?”
“How do we know it’s still alive? If there are others, they may have killed the wretched thing themselves.”
“Don’t forget, My Lord,” Raynard said. “We need the baby. And we need him to live.”
“Maybe. If Lucien dies, the queen dies, the heir dies, and Lamont dies—there is really only one qualified man left to rule. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Raynard smirked.
“I thought you didn’t want to be king.”
“I may have no choice.”
Sterling rode to Morgenwraithe, accompanied by four members of the King’s Guard and two servant boys. Sterling emptied two more wine-skins on the way.
Sterling sent the other men away. He walked to Dathien’s quarters. He cursed when the giant was not there.
Sterling found Lucien in the first place he looked—the Guard’s training area. Lucien and his friends Brendan and Reese were using the archery range. Lucien put down his bow and walked toward Sterling.
“Did you find him?” he asked.
“Who?” Sterling said.
“My brother, of course. He destroyed the camp, did he not?”
Sterling dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand.
“The dragon-boy is the least of our concern. The traitorous queen’s traitorous father has made it official—an army of rebels has fired on our army.”
“What?”
“The traitors have made allies in the Southlands.”
“Are you sure?”
Sterling scowled.
“Of course, I’m sure! Don’t you think I would know if dragons were breeding within our borders?”
“The rebels have dragons?”
Brendan and Reese heard Lucien’s reply. They hurried over.
“Where are the rebels now, My Lord?” Brendan asked.
“Did I request your presence?” Sterling snapped.
“No, My Lord,” Brendan said. He and Reese walked away.
“I’m taking the giant with me,” Sterling said. “These dragons are young. They should be child’s play for him. Is the queen still in good health?”
Lucien did not like the question. He nodded.
“In good health, for a pregnant woman living in a dungeon and awaiting trial.”
Sterling was drunk and spoke without thinking.
“I need that baby alive.”
“W-what? What did you say?” Lucien stammered.
“The heir!” Sterling said. “It is importa
nt that he be alive and well! Healthy! What’s wrong with you?”
Sterling shoved Lucien backward into a wall. Lucien felt his head crack against the stone. His vision swam. His thoughts were scrambled—but rage swelled up inside him. He saw two of Sterling in front of him. The images slowly merged.
And for a moment, all Lucien saw was Sterling’s jaw.
And that moment was all it took.
Lucien made a fist and swung at Sterling as hard as he could—screaming at the top of his lungs. Sterling went down to one knee.
Brendan and Reese heard Lucien’s scream. They ran back toward the training area—and stopped. They could not believe what they were seeing. And they were too frightened to do anything about it.
Sterling leapt to his feet. He struck Lucien with one blow to his face. Lucien’s right eye suffered great damage and was quickly swollen shut. Sterling held Lucien upright, by his shirt and then by his hair, as he punched Lucien in the stomach and his lower back. When Sterling tired, he dropped Lucien to the ground and continued the beating with his feet.
A winded Lord Sterling bent over, breathing hard. He pushed his hands against his knees. He spat on Lucien’s face and walked away without a word.
Brendan and Reese ran to Lucien’s side. Lucien’s lips moved, but he made little more than a whisper. His friends moved closer.
“Go,” Lucien said. “Get away from me. He’ll kill you.”
“He’s almost killed you,” Reese said. “We have to get you to a healer.”
“No,” Lucien croaked. “Go away.”
“But—”
“I’m…I’m already…dead.”
Brendan and Reese stood and walked away, biting their lips and fighting back tears. They walked to their quarters without a word.
Lucien drifted in and out of consciousness as he lay curled into a ball. He could see his hand in front of his face. He made his fingers move. He told his right leg to straighten. It did, shooting a blinding pain to his brain. He didn’t know if he cried out or not. He put pressure on his knee in an attempt to stand. This only succeeded in causing his bladder to empty.
Lucien was blind with anger.
I will not die in a stinking puddle of my own piss.
I am still the king.
It took a long time, but Lucien eventually pushed himself up to his knees. Sweat poured from his forehead into his eyes. He shook his head. He could barely see from his one good eye but he was determined to stand. When he finally did, he was unable to balance. His legs gave way to an odd dance, slamming his shoulder into the stone wall.
Every nerve in Lucien’s body screamed out in pain. He almost blacked out. He felt himself slipping…sliding down.
Strong hands caught his arms. Lucien raised his head.
“I…told…you—”
“Shut up, your Grace,” Brendan said.
“I…will not,” Lucien said. “You will take me where I tell you.”
“Very well,” Reese said. “But we can’t stay here.”
“This is madness,” Brendan said.
“Tell the guards to open the door and leave,” Lucien said.
“They won’t listen to us, Lucien—you’re talking about their sworn duties.”
Lucien pulled weakly against Brendan’s grip.
“Then I’ll tell them myself.”
“Wait, your Grace. How many are there, Reese?”
“Only two.”
“We could knock them out. Better for everyone that way.”
Reese nodded. He and Brendan helped Lucien to the ground. They pulled saps from their belts and approached the guards from the side. The men were bored and tired. They never saw the attack coming. Brendan and Reese grabbed the guards by their arms and dragged them around the corner and out of sight. They went back for Lucien.
He was gone. Brendan and Reese swore under their breath. They spun around in the alley and saw nothing.
“He’s inside. I’d bet my mother on it,” Reese said.
Thirty-Nine
“Who’s there?” Jaclyn said.
She heard heavy breathing. The scraping of boots on the floor. Grunts. Groans. And whimpers.
“Oh, my—by the gods! Lucien! What’s happened to you?”
Lucien did not speak. He made his way to the cell door. He dropped the ring of keys and swore. He bent over and retrieved it with some difficulty. Jaclyn ran to the door. She reached through the bars and touched Lucien’s hand. Lucien grunted and pulled his hand away.
“Stop,” was all he said.
Lucien opened the door. Jaclyn rushed to him.
“Oh, Lucien! Who—are you all right? You must get to—”
“Go,” Lucien said.
“I’ll help you, Lucien,” Jaclyn said, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“I said go! Now!”
“We must get you to the healer, Lucien—!”
Lucien leaned against the bars of the cell. With one hand he grabbed Jaclyn’s dress.
“Don’t you understand?” Lucien cried. “The healer is dead! Sterling saw to that! And he will kill you. He’s only waiting for the baby to be born. And then he will kill us all.”
“Did…did Sterling do this to you?”
Lucien let go of Jaclyn, exhausted.
“Go. I command you.”
“Come with me, my King. We can go to Islemar and board a ship—we can stow away if we have to. We can sail so far away that Sterling will never find us. The three of us.”
“You are mad,” Lucien said. “I can never escape Sterling. He would find me at the ends of the earth. I am the heir to Morgenwraithe. I will die here.”
“Lucien, you must listen to me—”
Jaclyn jumped when the men ran into the room. They swore and ran at her. She flinched and turned her head. Nothing happened.
The men grabbed Lucien’s arms and helped him to the floor. Jaclyn recognized their faces in the dim light of the torches. Brendan and Reese. Lucien’s friends.
The four of them were always together, Jaclyn thought. Where is the other one? The tall one they call “Tree”?
“You have to help him!” Jaclyn cried.
Lucien tried to focus. His eye was swollen completely shut. He reached out to grab Brendan, but only swiped at the air.
“Get her…get her…away…away from here…” Lucien said, and then his hand fell to his lap. His head fell to his chest.
“Lucien! No!”
Reese grabbed Lucien’s wrist. He pressed his ear to Lucien’s chest.
“He’s breathing.”
Brendan and Reese looked at each other.
“Get a coach from the stable,” Reese said to Brendan. “Hurry. We won’t have much time.”
Brendan jumped to his feet and ran.
****
The woman sipped warm cider as she rocked slowly in front of the fire. It was late, but she did not sleep well. Not anymore. The night was quiet, except for her own quiet humming. She hummed a lot when she was alone at night, perhaps in an unconscious effort to comfort herself. Because, tonight—like last night, and the night before—there was no one else around to comfort her. Not that it would work. She may never feel comfort again.
She certainly found no comfort in the sound of horses approaching her home. She waited for the sound to pass. It did not. And now, the “clip-clop” was replaced by the sound of tired horses and another unmistakable sound.
“Whoa.”
What do I have left to fear? The woman thought. If they run me through, my troubles will be over. And Arthur and I can be together for all eternity.
Belinda Jacobs lit two more candles. There was no use in hiding. Sterling and his men respected no one’s privacy. They had proven that after their hired demon murdered her husband.
The knock on the door came as expected. What Belinda did not expect was the quiet nature of the knock.
Nothing could have prepared her for what lay beyond her doorstep.
“Lady Jacobs,” Jaclyn said. “You must hel
p him. We have nowhere else to go.”
Belinda put her hand to her mouth.
“My husband is dead, my queen.”
Belinda took two steps back. She pointed a shaking finger at Lucien.
“He was killed…murdered…by their monster!”
Jaclyn walked toward Belinda. Belinda backed away until she bumped into her chair. Jaclyn heard a “thump”. Brendan and Reese had lost their grips on Lucien. He cried out weakly when he hit the floor.
“I don’t know what you know, My Lady,” Jaclyn whispered. “But after tonight, there are few secrets left in this kingdom. My father and others prepare to rebel against Sterling and his men.”
Jaclyn pointed at Lucien.
“Sterling meant to kill the King of Morgenwraithe! He waits for this child to be born so that he may kill me. And it is foolish to believe this child will live to reign.”
“These two,” Belinda pointed. “Members of the King’s Guard. Where is their allegiance?”
Brendan looked up from Lucien’s side.
“My sword is hereby sworn to anyone willing to hang Sterling Morgenwraithe’s head on the castle wall.”
“My vow is the same,” Reese said. “And I would give everything I own to have my fist around the sword that takes his last breath.”
“Get up,” Belinda said to them. “Help me.”
Belinda put her shoulder against a large wardrobe cabinet. The wardrobe sat on top of a very large and heavy rug. Brendan and Reese stepped to the other end to pull. Jaclyn put her hands next to Belinda’s and began to push. Jaclyn lurched forward. One of her hands jerked across her swollen belly. Belinda grabbed Jaclyn’s other hand.
“For the gods’ sake, child! You’re about to pop! That’s all we need right now is for you to drop that baby on my floor! Go sit down!”
“But—”
“You are in my home!” Belinda growled. “Begging for my help! In here, you are not the queen, and he is not the king! You will listen to what I say! Do you understand?”