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The night of the king’s death
Haddin walked into his father’s chambers tentatively, it was dark and quiet in there as the curtains remained pulled over his windows.
“Father?” he called softly.
His gaze went to his father’s bed, but it was empty and unmade like someone had just rolled out of it. From his perch beside the king’s bed, Tika looked at him with those vengeful eyes. The Falcon had never liked him, and he had been at his father’s side since his days as crown prince. It had two shades of eyes, one was a dark brown and the other an icy blue that reflected his father’s own cold blue eyes. The king and Drayton shared their preference for birds, while Haddin preferred feline companions, he had three of his own, only one of which he had fully bonded with. Tika continued to look at him with those calm calculating eyes. Haddin knew that he would have to kill the bird after his father’s demise. He could not have it looking at him with those blood thirsty eyes.
“I’m surprised you came at all,” he heard his father say, breaking into his murderous thoughts.
He turned and saw the old man facing the drawn curtains with his hands behind his back. He wore his silk patterned robe and loose-fitting sleep trousers.
Haddin frowned, his father’s voice was quaky and weak as it had been since his sickness.
“Father?”
The old man turned around and in the dim light, shadows fell across the sharp angles of his face, presenting him as something more sinister than he was.
“Despite all of the signs, I never thought you truly had it in you,” his father said.
“I don’t understand what you are saying,” but even as the words left his lips, understanding dawned in his mind. His father knew.
“I know you are heartless and wracked with hatred. But summoning a Dark Storm! That is beyond cruel that is plain foolish.”
Panic sent a heat wave through Haddin’s heavily cloaked body. How did his father find out? It must have been that Ilk.
“Did you really think my own magicians would be loyal to you over me? That I would not find out what you were up to.”
Haddin mentally cursed the magician who had fooled him into believing he had earned his loyalty. All that talk about respecting him over his father and brother because of his mastery of the dark arts was a mere ploy. They feared their sickly king more than the son who wielded more power than they could imagine. He would have to fix that.
He lifted his chin, “you are a frail, dying man, without your ancestral power stone and the respect the crown commands, you are a weak link in our defense. And we both know that I would make a better ruler than Drayton. He is weak and soft like his mother, I know you see it, I know you believe it. But you won’t look past those things because in your eyes he is your true son. I was only doing what a true king would, taking what is mine.”
His father’s eyes grew colder, Haddin never knew that could be possible.
“I admit your attempt would be very impressive, had you only attempted to harm your brother. But your lust for power went too far when you plotted to kill your king. When you plotted to bring destruction to the very kingdom you desire to rule!”
“The only people who would have been affected by the storm would have been those rebellious peasants. I didn’t do it to harm you father, I swear. I just wanted to teach those rebels a lesson, show them that their god is dead.”
“What about your brother? Don’t you know that a plot against him, is like a plot against me?”
Haddin ground his teeth, as his father took a step towards him.
“Your brother is twice the man you would ever be. What you call weakness is the key to the new direction of Dravia. You will do well to learn a thing or two from him.”
A wave of jealousy washed over Haddin and he felt like a child again, growing up in his brother’s shadow, vying for his father’s attention and his mother’s approval. But his father only had eyes for his precious Dray, the son of his first wife, while his mother only had a heart for her magic.
“You have broken my heart Haddin. My hope for you was that you stand by your brother. Together you two would have been unstoppable, the most dangerous opponents ever to go up against Aldor. At your brother’s side, Dravia would have had a chance once more to possess the power beyond the border. But you are too selfish, you bring shame on your bloodline and the gods of sky and sea. What have I done wrong with you Haddin? That you would scheme to keep a dark storm hidden from me, in the hopes that I would go insane and die.”
“We both know that Drayton does not have what it takes to rule Dravia... I will be a better king. In all that you said, you know this is true!”
He hated the desperation he heard in his voice, only the king could reduce him to a whining desperate boy.
“Enough of that!” the king bellowed.
“You scheme and plot and wave your little wand…”
“It’s a channeling rod, which I don’t use anymore,” Haddin said defensively.
“I know what you desire, and I decree that you will never get it!”
Haddin lifted his chin, “you have no idea what power you possess. Just let me have the Element, you can give Drayton your throne.”
The king lifted his chin, “so you know about the Element. I thought so. That is what prompted you to do this. Well you will never get your hands on it. Drayton and I have seen to it. You have done too much this time Haddin. Don’t you understand what we are fighting against?”
“I understand that you are weak, that you fear power. You are no different to your grandfather who teamed up with our enemy and rejected our chance to reign over this world.”
The king looked sad, “I am confining you to the tower until I can figure out what to do with you. Until the Element is safely out of your reach.”
“Oh, so you’re just going to banish me, like you did my mother!”
The king looked tired, “Guards!” he called and immediately the doors to his chambers opened and four strong men entered.
“Go quietly or be forcefully escorted,” his father warned, absently reaching up to touch his ring.
The king’s rejection reached deep into the heart of Haddin. As a result, vengeance gave way to murderous intentions. Later that night Haddin hurried down the hall, a vial of blood tucked beneath his tunic as he hurried away from his father’s chambers. Beads of sweat had started forming on his brows as his cloaking spell faded away. He ducked inside his own quarters just as it wore out and bent forward to catch his breath. His golden locks stuck to his forehead and cheek, drenched in the sweat of fear and exertion.
“What happened?” the mirror shouted as soon as he entered.
With a trembling hand he wiped his sweaty face and made his way to his work station. He was so preoccupied with what he had done and was about to do, he did not even consider that his makeup needed redoing. That the pale greying skin was exposed where he had swiped his hand.
“We don’t have much time” he said, as he took out a bowl and tossed in a few contents from bottles on his shelf. Then he reached for the blood and held it up to his blood shot eyes.
“You did it!” one of the faces said gleefully.
“And he is freeing us!” Another shouted.
“Shut up!” Haddin cried, “let me think.”
He took a deep breath and muttered under his breath, “this is for you lord Maldeev.”
He then tossed the contents of the blood into the bowl and it erupted in a puff of white smoke then hissed as it burned out. Haddin inhaled the air and then turned to the mirror and opened his mouth. He chanted passionately and fluently, then blew. Smoke escaped his mouth and filled the room.
When it cleared, three creepy, scaly, creatures with bald heads and bulging eyes stood before him. A wide grin on their faces.
“We’re free!”
“Free to worship you!”
“Your wish is our pleasure to do. Just say our names and we will come to you.”
“Oh, simply think and we’ll be there in a wink!”
“Call me Odin!”
“I am Zic!” one said with dramatic flair.
“And I Gruh,” this one was the less talkative of the few but just as energetic and creepy.
Haddin trembled involuntarily at the sight before him. They were more hideous than he could have imagined, they’re grey wart infested skin a reflection of the changes he was seeing in himself. He stifled a gag and turned away.
“Will you always smell this terribly,” he muttered.
Instantly and without a sound they were at his side, looking up at him with wide awestruck eyes.
“Smell?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
Haddin shook his head, “How will I hide you away if you look like this?”
“Never worry,” Odin said, he had always presented himself as the leader, “only you can see us in our true forms.”
“And the smell?”
They looked at him blankly. They smelled like burned wood and rotten fruit combined. But Haddin supposed he would grow used to them. There was no turning back now. He hardened his face and straightened up, there was no time to regret.
“Your first task is to get me back to the tower. My masking spell ran out. No one can know that I killed my father, or this will all be in vain.”
“Never fear master. Now what do you require?”
“I need to free my mother, if anyone can find the Element it’s her.”
“Well we will need a light stone,” said Zic.
Haddin ground his teeth, “and how do you propose we do that?”
“I have a plan,” said Odin, “but you may not like it.”
“It involves… an Aldorian royal an offspring of the king,” Gruh added.
Haddin rolled his eyes, “of course it has to do with Aldor, it always does.”
Chapter 22
Markus marched into the bakery with Stiller leading the way. Instantly all eyes were turned to them, as though sensing the urgency with which they had entered. Stiller scanned the room with his intense eyes until he found his wife. When their eyes met her brows dipped in concern, like he had somehow told her everything from across the room.
“Stiller is everything okay?” she asked as they approached the table where she sat, she was not alone.
A young lady looked up at them mid laugh, her eyes twinkling. The other woman’s back was turned to them and Stiller hesitated.
“Can we talk?” he gestured to the back room, just as Stacia’s companion turned around.
Instantly Markus recognized her, and a grin leapt unto his face despite the circumstances.
“Lady Shadaya,” he said excitedly.
She looked equally surprised to see him.
“Would not have expected to run into you here,” he said.
“Nor you,” she countered, “I come for the exceptional baked treats, what’s your excuse?”
Markus smiled, “same.”
“Right?” Shadaya said disbelievingly, “I know they are followers of your faith. I am the one who is out of place.”
“You are always welcome here Shadaya,” Stacia said.
Her husband grunted from where he towered over them, he didn’t seem to agree.
“And who is this?” Markus asked, stepping forward to extend a hand to the young lady who was watching their exchange with excitement.
“This is Dorcy,” Shadaya replied, almost proudly.
Quizzical brown eyes zoned in on his face, the girl named Dorcy scrunched up her face with her question.
“What happened to your face?” she asked.
Markus chuckled, noticing the uncomfortable glance Shadaya and Stacia shared.
“Let’s just say I ran into some very angry pickpockets.”
Dorcy lowered her gaze then and Markus wondered what he had said to offend. But Stacia cut through the awkwardness. Looking up at her husband expectantly, she asked, “What is the matter my love?”
“In private,” Stiller said and started to turn towards the back.
“Shadaya should be informed of this as well,” Markus said quickly.
“She may be able to help.”
“What’s going on?” Shadaya asked.
Stiller sighed, as though he truly did not think it was a good idea. But it was two against one on this, Markus could tell whose side his wife was on even though she said nothing. Stiller was a man trained to know when the odds were against him. He jerked his head in the direction he was initially heading and Shadaya arched a brow.
“Come on everyone,” Stiller said grouchily, “you too lady Quadin. Dorcy go help Finx in the kitchen.”
Markus was surprised when Shadaya gracefully accepted Stiller’s rude invitation. They all sat down in the small room behind the bakery, the walls around them were lined with shelves packed with goods; on the far end, sacks of wheat and flour formed a wall of its own. The smell of grain filling the room, Markus found, was surprisingly pleasant.
“Alright” Stiller started, “we have a problem. Markus?”
Markus nodded, “I have reason to believe, solidly, that there is a dark storm heading this way.”
“Oh my,” Stacia gasped, “such a wretched thing.”
Shadaya looked confused, “a what?”
“You may be too young to remember,” Stacia responded, “the last one we had cost us tremendous lives in Arduway. For weeks, months after we were burying people who had been affected. It took us years to get back on our feet, to heal from out losses. Many turned to the way in this time and communities started rising up in towns and cities all over Saharia. It was quite a time.”
“You may have been carefully protected behind your stone mansion,” Stiller added.
“I don’t even think she was born yet,” Stacia added thoughtfully.
“I see,” was all Shadaya said, looking confused.
“I have people constantly monitoring. We have three to five days, but dark storms are unpredictable, we may have days to prepare or it can shift and be upon us in hours. I went to the prince but… I don’t know if he believes me. There is something fishy going on in that castle. That young prince is up to something, we need to secure ourselves. His last concern would be Arduway.”
“We won’t be a concern at all,” Stiller said.
“How can I help?” Shadaya asked.
Stiller looked surprised at her question.
“What?” she asked, “do you think so lowly of me? Of course, I would want to help.”
Stiller’s eyes hardened, “Dark storms are brought about by magical imbalance. It’s the kind of thing that sends the best sorcerer into hiding. Are you sure you should be around something like that?”
His accusation was clear. Markus interrupted their staring contest.
“Alright let’s come up with a plan. We can’t start a panic. But the best way to face a Dark storm is to ride it out in a sealed off place. When the dark sandy wind blows through, complete darkness will descend upon us, the air will become contaminated. The longer a person is exposed to it the lesser their chances of surviving. So, we need shelters that are sealed off and sturdy and we need enough supplies to last us three days… at least.”
Shadaya looked confused, “if this is not something new to us here, then why hasn’t the crown provided shelters that can withstand it.”
Stiller turned to reply to her, “there is something you should know about the royal family you hold up so proudly. They don’t care about the likes of us. Pillars, Royals, noblemen, most of them believe events like this are just a matter of natural selection, nature’s way of thinning the population, the gods’ way of taking what they are owed. There is no way they are making provisions for the likes of us.”
Shadaya pursed her lips and nodded solemnly.
“The bakery is secure and sturdy enough we can hold some people here,” Stacia said.
“Good idea,” Markus said, “I have a fortified mansion that can be a more adequate shelter.”<
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“Well if you’re offering…” Stiller started.
“So am I,” Shadaya interjected, “it would require discreet movement to the manor but… I can shelter some people as well.”
Markus shook his head, “I don’t recommend it. Movement from here to your manor would require too much. Besides Quadin manor is a large estate, you need to ensure your own people are secure. We can help as much people as we can, secure areas in their homes, and we can offer shelter to those who need it… here and the Cort mansion.”
“Well then, I can contribute to that,” Shadaya said resolutely.
“I can also round up Dorcy’s friends. Some of them didn’t take up my offer to work at the manor. But we can’t have them on the streets.”
Her eagerness to help made Markus wonder what she was trying to make up for, what guilt tormented her so much that she felt the need to help these people so openly. He had turned down her offer of shelter for her own sake, knowing that bringing in peasants to her home would only taint her reputation and turn the court’s displeasure upon her. She did not seem so concerned with those realities and he felt it was his duty to guard her from the outgrowths of her own conscience.
“I can take in the runaways,” he said.
Stiller looked thoughtful, “you can take in the runaways or you take in the villagers. Having them both together won’t be a good idea. Those children have been terrorizing Arduway for years.”
Shadaya and Markus held each other’s eyes in a silent standoff. Then Markus sighed.
“Fine, but you’re going to have to find them,” he had a soft spot for the runaways, for they were mostly Ribonian and he knew the struggles of that all too well.
“Don’t worry. I will find them. I have Dorcy.”
“Alright, I’ll call a community meeting right away,” Stiller said firmly.
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“My people!” Stiller shouted.
He stood atop a wooden bench to address the crowd gathered in the small bakery. A loud murmur of concern and disbelief filled the room and Shadaya felt like she was drowning, much like Stiller’s thunderous voice.
Shadaya: Out of Darkness (Gemstone Royals) Page 22