by B J Hanlon
He squeezed through the opening and found himself in a huge corridor lit by sconces every ten yards. The walls and the floor were the same hewn stone. Standing next to him were two stone sentinels. Edin carefully inspected them: a hooded figure with a staff and an armored man with a sword.
On the walls were paintings of solitary men in regal clothes glaring down at him with perpetual disgust. Each had crowns perched on their heads. It was the crown, the one from the stones. And he saw the dots were gems. Six of them. He saw the sapphire, that looked just his sapphire… and the yellow gem, he didn’t know what it was called… but they looked like the same ones he’d found. Edin swallowed. Was he a thief like she said?
Edin padded his way forward. Doors appeared on both sides, but ahead of him, at the far end of the hall was a large door with the only the soft flicker of firelight emanating from beneath it.
She was there, he knew it. Edin readjusted the grip on his broomstick and tiptoed forward. He kept his eyes on the door waiting for it to burst open.
The one gust of wind she’d thrown at him said she was strong. She could probably throw a caravan at him without much effort.
There wasn’t time for a battle strategy, not that he ever actually put one together. All Edin’s fights were based on instinct and reaction and they’d worked well so far.
He reached for the door handle and pulled. It squealed. He jumped in ready to fight if need be...
She wasn’t there.
Beyond the door stood a small room, an office with an ornate desk in the center and a blazing hearth off to one side. Another door stood across from him. To the right and left was waist high shelving filled with books and topped with colorful paintings and statues. Gold and silver, men and beast.
He circled the desk, glancing down at ornate parchment paper and a feather pen. The parchment was a letter addressed to ‘Dearest father,’ and signed ‘Your loving daughter, Arianne.’
The ink was blotted with circular drops. Tears.
Edin passed it and opened the door to the adjacent room. It was aglow with the bright light of multiple fires reflecting off golden objects. To the right a canopy bed sat between ornate arched windows that seemed like book ends. Beyond it, plush velvet chairs sat in front of a hearth facing away from him. More built-ins were covered with gold, silver and other jewel-encrusted objects.
Where was she? Edin stepped further into the large chamber and onto a ruby red rug with golden flowers sewn in. The softness of the rug seemed impossible to believe beneath his bare feet.
A gust blew past him and the door slammed shut. Edin instantly summoned the ethereal shield.
“It is rude to barge in on a lady in her bedchambers,” the woman said calmly. Arianne.
He still couldn’t see her, but the voice seemed to come from one of the chairs. Edin stepped forward and stood in the open keeping the broom at the ready.
“It’s worse to keep a man captive and accuse him of being a thief,” he said through clenched teeth. “Face me. You stole my sword and necklace, I want them back.”
“What of your clothes, would you like those back as well?” She couldn’t see him, right? How did she know he didn’t cover himself with something? “I can see your culrian in the reflection.” She said.
Edin looked up at a shield above the mantel. It looked more ornamental and held the heraldry of the crown with the sword and staff.
It shined like a mirror. She stood in the reflection. His eyes dropped to her head as it appeared over the chair, her gaze fixed up in either rage or weariness.
“I know holding a culrian takes much energy. With your weakened condition, I doubt you could withstand a breeze.”
Culrian? The bubble? Edin thought. Then said. “Want to try?”
She grinned and waived her hand, sheets flapped on the bed and a chair flopped with a crack. But once the wind hit the shield it dissipated. A man-sized pot lifted from its spot on the shelf and shot at Edin quick as an arrow.
Time slowed as he released the shield and sidestepped it. Slowly, ice crystals were beginning to form on it. The speed of the fight returned and he heard the vase shatter. Her mouth dropped open as he strolled toward her with ease.
She clenched her jaw and sent another wave at him, a trio of hard covered books and shiny gold knives.
Edin rolled, his mother would be appalled at her; using books as weapons. He threw up a shield as she hit him with another gust, her breathing was getting heavier. She dropped it, drew his sword and attacked.
A quick thrust, Edin knocked the broomstick into the flat side of the sword parrying it past his gut. Edin spun the weapon in a circle and snatched at her wrist.
She jerked her hand away and spun in a swooping arc that nearly took off his head. It left her slightly off balance. Edin paused and she recovered before he could react. Another thrust but she was shakier and slower than him.
Edin twisted and brought the handle down on her forearm. She yelped as he dropped the broomstick and wrenched the blade from her grip.
In a quick move, he spun in a circle while twisting her arm and body and shoved her into his chest so her back was to him and her arms were trapped beneath one of his. He held her close with the blade at her neck.
“That would’ve been a good dance move…” Edin said.
She struggled for a moment but was clearly tired. Her chest was pounding rapidly as her strength seemed to fade even further.
“My necklace?” Edin whispered in her ear with a harsh rasp. He saw the string at the base of her long slender neck. “Take it off.”
She grunted and struggled against him. “I can’t.” She spat, “remove your blade and let me go.” Her voice was commanding, but also shaken. She clearly wasn’t accustomed to men in their undertrousers disobeying her.
She struggled again but he held. Slowly, he began to feel the tension in her body release and her breathing slowed. He glanced toward the shield trying to see her expression in the reflection. The angle was too great.
“Fine, cut my throat,” she said, voice still shaking.
“Do not tempt me princess,” he whispered. She was noble, no doubt about that. Heck even normal women dreamed to be princesses and marry a king or a duke. This one clearly took the delusion to the next level.
Then again… he looked again at the golden statues, frames and chalices on the shelves… at least the ones that hadn’t been used as weapons. Then the huge bed and furnishings. The paintings too, the men who dressed as kings.
“I don’t care, I have no one anymore.” Her chest heaved with a quick sniffle. The anger dropped from her like a man after ten whiskeys at the Dancing Crane.
Edin let go, the warmth from her body disappeared as she stepped a few feet away and slowly removed the necklace.
She didn’t look at him as she held it out, the blue gemstone was there and now the yellow one as well. The white fang was not.
“Where is the crillio fang?” Edin said snatching it from her hand, “what did you do with it?”
“It’s on the table,” she said lifting her chin as if in challenge.
Edin lowered the sword when he spied it and marched over. He slipped the string through the bored hole and placed it back around his neck.
“My clothes?”
“Elven,” she spat. “I destroyed them. They are an evil race; their presence is not allowed in my father’s kingdom.”
Evil elves? How’d she even know about them… and what about her father’s kingdom? Edin sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose before looking to her. This was too confusing. All he wanted to do was leave. “Where are your clothes?”
“You wish to dress like a lady?” she asked, her eyes were red and watery.
“I’d rather not freeze to death.”
“You can try the attendant’s chambers. At least he was a man. The room is two doors on the left.” She pointed a finger toward the entrance. “You are not welcome in my father’s chambers. It’s punishable by death for entering without t
he king’s permission…” she trailed off for a moment then found herself again… and with force. “Now go!”
“King? What king.” He paused. “Who are you? What is this place?” The questions came quick and fast as he tried to race through what he knew in his mind. A large building on top of a mountain, fine things everywhere and a coat of arms with a crown.
She raised her slumped shoulders and thrusted her chin high with the strength and power of someone having grown up being told she was better than others.
“I am Princess Arianne, daughter of the great and powerful King Alcor Bestavienne, ruler of Bestoria. You are nothing but a wicked magus. Your death will not be quick.”
Edin’s head swam and suddenly a smile broke across his face. He felt a strong chortle and let it out laughing at her delusion. It was unbelievable, Alcor, Bestoria, even her name Arianne.
Master Horston’s histories, the ones that weren’t filled with worthless detail, could be exciting and terrifying. The histories of the last mage king, the one who tried to kill half of his kingdom before the Great Duke Ecari Dunbilston rose up to save the lands.
“Why do you laugh at me?”
It took a moment for him to stifle the laughter. “Okay princess,” Edin smiled and turned. “I’ll leave you to your fantasy.” He turned from her and left the warm chambers without being pursued. He was grateful for that. As he exited, he saw the next door, it was large. The king’s chambers. Edin glanced back at the room. Still nothing.
“There is no king of Bestoria,” Edin said. Despite her keeping him prisoner and insulting him, he’d never met another mage before and he didn’t want to fight her…
Edin glanced back at one of the paintings. A thin man with gaunt cheeks and a lazy eye. If it weren’t for the crown and the opulence... he would’ve thought it painted by a satirist.
But the rest of the place… it did feel like a noble house. Any royal family who knew of this place would claim it as their own.
He reached the first door, he didn’t need to listen to her. Edin tried the door handle, first he pushed at it, then pulled at it. Slowly it opened with ease. All of the hinges seemed to have been kept up very well…
Edin pushed and it swung in with ease. Moonlight filtered in through skylights. His mouth dropped at the size of the room, there were vaulted ceilings easily twenty feet high and the room looked to be another twenty deep. It was much like the princess’ antechamber though the colors seemed to be more masculine. Darker blues and grays with strong blood reds.
A painting hung on the wall. In it, a woman who looked like a slightly younger version of Arianne stood with two older folks. A family portrait. The parents stood behind her each with a bejeweled hand on either of her shoulders. They all held stern looks and fine jewelry hung from their necks. A gold crown sat on the man’s greasy looking black hair.
The father, his chin was square. The woman looked like Arianne, same eyes and hair, her mouth seemed to be in a perpetual frown that for some reason didn’t seem natural.
There was no fire in either of the twin hearths. At the back was a giant door, Edin gawked as he looked around. Whose palace was this? He glanced at the desk. It was void of any paper.
He pushed open the door. Despite it being more than double his height, it felt nearly weightless. The next room was twice the size of the antechamber.
A giant canopy bed, bigger than his room at the manor, sat near the center. Rows of pedestals held statues and displays of weapons.
Trophy heads of beasts hung from the walls. One caught his eye, black fur, the deep black eyes and the bright white teeth of a crillio cat.
Edin averted his eyes to a large stained-glass window off to the right. It showed a man holding a sword and flinging a beam of white fire at a beast. A massive snake-like beast with wings, two legs and yellow eyes. It was ugly… and scary. Probably from someone’s imagination.
Edin spotted a large cabinet beneath the head of a great boar. He started for them.
“My father’s royal vestments are in the other one,” Arianne’s voice said from the door. She clutched her arms around her body keeping her eyes from his.
“I just need something to travel in,” Edin said.
“Then that is the correct armoire. Those are hunting clothes.”
Edin spent about two minutes just grabbing things and dressing. Her watching was like being told to eat all of your vegetables. Just not fun.
As he did, he began to feel a bit small in the king’s garments. The man had a bit of a belly Edin guessed. He found a fur coat, it was thick and heavy but the hair was smooth. The inside was a fine silk with pockets embroidered with a giant B.
Maybe this was a royal residence but she couldn’t be Arianne… the real Arianne Bestavienne.
A sigh came from the girl and he looked up. Her golden hair shimmering in the moonlight as she stared up at a painting… of her.
Edin moved to stand in front of her. It was night and he wasn’t exactly thrilled about leaving in the dark.
“Mistress Arianne,” Edin said in his politest voice. “May I stay for the evening? I will leave tomorrow morning.”
“You’re leaving?” She gasped. Then her face changed to a sad one again.
“I do not feel very welcome,” he said.
“You may stay,” she said.
“You will not attempt to imprison me again?”
“No.” In her teary eyes, he felt like she was telling the truth. On a sideboard he spied a pitcher. He thought of the barrel down below.
“Then let us have an ale.” Edin rushed over and grabbed it before he headed down to the storeroom. As he walked, he heard her light footsteps pattering the floor behind him.
“I’m not sure what happened to my coin purse,” Edin said glancing back. “But I will pay you back for the clothes and food. I’m not a thief.”
Arianne had her arms still wrapped around her body, tears showed in her eyes.
Edin took the pitcher and began pouring the ale in.
“That’s the finest ale in Vostine.” She said.
Edin furrowed his brow. “You mean Calerrat.” The name changed a thousand years ago after the rebellion and the destruction of the kingdom. The old mage academy, still called the Citadel, was repurposed to train the Por Fen. A little irony that the church enjoyed.
She shook her head. “In the middle lands, on the Mirasa Sea and the Crystalline River. That is Vostine. My home. Do not tell me I don’t know the name to my own city.” Her voice was rising and she looked as if she’d break down again.
She didn’t know… did she? Then he started to wonder… a question crossed his mind. Could she be the real princess Arianne? He had to ask. He hated the thought.
“What year do you think it is?”
It took her a moment. “Four-thousand eight-hundred and eighty since the beginning.”
Since the beginning of civilization, the old calendar was said to have started after the time of monsters. After Vestor and an ancient cabal of magi saved the world and began a new civilization to the west. It was from there that civilization grew from those dark days.
“Are you…” he swallowed and looked away from her. “Are you really Princess Arianne?” He couldn’t believe he was asking it. There was no way it was true. None.
Arianne nodded. “Daughter of King Alcor and Queen Neferalt. I was born in the palace of Vostine in the year four thousand, eight-hundred and sixty-three.”
There was a conviction in her voice. Either she was a good actor, a completely mental head case, which she certainly could be… or she was Arianne. If so, she probably needed to be sitting for this.
He didn’t know how, but she was from a different time. A different world. He didn’t want to look at her but he did. Edin grabbed his tankard and dunked it in the barrel. He drank and heavily. A moment later, he burped, long and loud.
“Gross.”
“It’s nine-hundred and fifty-five, AF,” he whispered. “After the fall.”
“Fall?” she said, though he figured she knew the answer already. “What fall? Where is my father, I’ve had no one here since I woke, no handmaidens, servants, guards...” Her voice started to rise further almost squealing in the annoying and ear-splitting tenor of a child.
“We should go upstairs.” Edin said.
“Why? So you can tell me more lies?” she screamed. “Tell me where my father is? Did you murder him for the ballast stones? The stones of the gods…”
Edin stepped back and held up a hand. She certainly was beautiful and legends of her temper and haughtiness were not exaggerated.
His gut said there was no way she was faking this. He may not be the best at spotting a liar… but she seemed truthful and maybe a bit crazy. He wasn’t sure how it was possible. She was alive almost a thousand years after she was proclaimed dead along with her father and the rest of the lineage.
“I found these,” Edin said pulling out the necklace. “And I’m not lying… Can we use your room?”
“It’s not appropriate for a commoner, even a magus, to sit with a princess in her chambers alone,” she stated before turning and walking back out. At the door to her room she paused and pulled down the bottom of her shirt before looking back at him. “You can tell no one. It would be scandalous.”
“I promise.” For some reason he didn’t tell her he was a baron. Edin followed her in and spotted a gold chalice speckled with diamonds and rubies on the shelf. A vessel for a princess.
Edin poured her a glass and handed it over. Edin lifted the toppled chair and sat in it.
For a while, neither spoke. They drank the ale and stared at the dancing flames.
Randomly, she sniffled. “I do not understand,” she finally said. “How can it be almost a thousand years… I just laid down for a nap. It couldn’t have been more than an hour or two and I was awake.”
It sounded rhetorical, so he didn’t answer. “You really are Princess Arianne,” he said as he watched her slowly nod out of the corner of his eyes. “My name is Edin.”
“What happened to my father?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly. “To my family…”
“What is the last thing you remember?” Edin asked, “before now?”