Dreams of a Wild Heart

by Danube Adele

Her eyes turned sharp. “I’ve trusted you with this information.”

  “I won’t share it with anyone.”

  “I’ll see you at the dinner hour.”

  So much to think about. And where was Tabron? I figured Tayla would have information, so I set off to find her. My first stop was the kitchens, where good smells were already beginning to perfume the air. One of the servants, a sweet woman near to Tayla’s age, allowed me to take some bread and a small slice of cheese to tide me over until dinner. She also told me Tayla was likely cleaning bedrooms in the hallway where my rooms were located. If I was lucky, maybe she’d be in my room.

  Being supremely careful because I did not want Morten to be waiting for me somewhere, I turned into G.I. Jane, peeking around corners and scanning rooms for movement before making a dash down the hallway on tiptoe, then up the stairs. I was peeking around a corner yet again when I thought I saw movement. It wasn’t a man. Was it Tayla? The figure was moving away from me, scarf or cloth of some kind draped over the head. She listened at one door and moved on to the side hall that led to the king’s office. She, too was peeking around the corners. Obviously she wasn’t supposed to be here, but she went anyway. The cloth brushed away from the side of her face, and for a moment, I thought I was looking at Cynthia!

  Was she looking for me? I hurried down the corridor to see if I could intercept her, stop her from meeting up with one of the big bad uglies that liked to hang around the king like his lapdogs, but when I turned the corner, she was gone. I paused to take in the scene, and even checked out the two doors on the way to the king’s office. They didn’t appear to have been disturbed.

  Was I going nuts?

  “Cecilia—”

  I jumped a foot and almost swallowed my tongue I was so startled. Tayla had come up behind me and tapped my arm. She had an apologetic look on her face. I put a shaky hand to my heart and let myself take a deep breath. Now I knew what it meant to jump out of your skin.

  “Dr. Cecilia, I’m so sorry.” She clasped her hands in supplication.

  “It’s okay.” I covered my mouth to stop the sudden giggle. Tension release. Taking a calming breath, I asked, “Did you see another woman, a young woman, moving around here a few minutes ago?”

  “I didn’t.” She quickly whispered, “But I do have something to tell you.”

  “My rooms.”

  In a short time, we were behind closed doors and she was wringing her hands. “I know there’s mylunate in one of the dungeons, but I don’t know how to use it. I’ve seen a man named Frank come and go from there in blue light just recently. Somehow it must be activated.”

  “Of course! That’s where I was first brought.”

  “It might take some time, but I’ll do my best to figure out how the stone is activated.”

  “Thank you, Tayla. And you know what? Tabron came to his senses, as well. I think he’s willing to get me back home.”

  “Oh, Cecilia! That’s wonderful.” She clasped my hands with heartfelt joy. “I keep thinking of your mother, knowing what she must have been going through. It breaks your heart ever so slowly, because the hope starts to drift away. It covers your pain for a little while, but when it’s gone, you just feel the world crushing you.”

  “You deserve so much better than what you’re getting here. Have you tried leaving? Going to one of the other villages?”

  “They would hunt me down for spite. Besides, I just don’t have the energy for change at this late stage in my life. It’s not as though I have any family left.”

  “Do you know where Tabron is?” I needed to talk to him about this other camp and about all of the news I’d heard this day, without breaking trust with Tarra. Maybe Tayla could be transported there. Even sleeping in a tent would be preferable to living out the rest of her life in servitude.

  “He’s gone.”

  “Gone? Like out on patrol or something?”

  “The king sent Tabron and his men to investigate a disturbance at one of the far borders.”

  “Well, how long does that take? Will he be back tonight? Tomorrow?”

  “He’ll be back in a week’s time.”

  “A week?” My heart sank. What the hell? Why hadn’t he told me this?

  My face likely gave away my feelings of murder because Tayla quickly added, “This was sudden. It was sprung on him at the last minute. It was strange that they went out of order of the rotation. Draxton’s men, now led by Syra, were supposed to go, but they didn’t. I heard Tabron tell Bruner to keep an eye on you.”

  Maybe that was part of why I’d been on Bruner’s radar this afternoon. Tabron was gone for the next week. I wouldn’t be able to see him, talk to him. I would be here alone in this frightening place where men thought nothing of hurting women. Maybe I needed to have Tarra get me the hell out of here before something really bad happened. Being here that long without him was a frightening prospect. He was well respected, but I was just another prisoner in a long string of them.

  But the thought of leaving without even seeing him one more time was making my throat close up. I...cared for him. A lot. Did he know there was all this shit going down? Was there a way to tell him?

  They’d waited for Tabron and his men to leave before going off to find Wellan’s family and kill them? It was like they were the mafia doing a hit for their boss, but who was the boss? I had a sense of glee that this Wellan guy’s family had made it to the other camp.

  “I do fear for your safety. Sleeping here with no way to protect yourself worries me greatly.”

  “Maybe I could sleep with Tarra in her room?”

  “Talk with her at the dinner hour. This switching of the guards has a bad smell.”

  “Tayla, I did hear something else that was really disturbing. I think you’re going to want to brace yourself for this.”

  Her look was curious. “What is it?”

  “It’s being said, and I don’t know how true this is, but it was mentioned that Morten told others it was his father who killed both the king and the queen.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she thought about the information, but she accepted it calmly. “I had my suspicions, but then the Sunan culprits were suddenly found and hung before all. Still, I always had a feeling that it didn’t make sense. It didn’t ring true. I knew it then.”

  “And I heard they’d been good friends growing up together.”

  “I knew him most of his life. He pretended to be a friend, but there was always an envious look in his eyes. Always looking for more than his poor parents could provide, and not one to work.”

  “Somehow, that makes it even worse. It takes a sick person to know someone for their whole lives and then kill them.”

  “There’s no way to prepare for someone’s greed.” Tayla looked sad. “She was happy. I can be content with that. I don’t know about my son...”

  “Then that would make Kraggon your grandson!”

  She nodded. “He’s been lost to me for years. After his parents had both been killed, he trained with the other warriors. I never saw him, and Ral’e demanded I work in the palace. He used to take great pleasure in seeing me brought low because my son got away.”

  “Tayla, then you must leave here. Let him know you’re still alive. He’s in some camp, ready to take back the throne. You are further evidence that he needs to march back here and make things right. Are you aware there’s some kind of attack being planned on both sides?”

  “I wasn’t aware.” Emotion brought a worried frown to her face. “Does he know?”

  “Kraggon? I’m sure he does. You’d be surprised by the craziness going on around here. I’ve heard things.”

  “Oh, Cecilia. I just don’t know.”

  “Think on it. Get out while you can. Enjoy time with your grandson. We don’t get forever.”

  That f
act had been brought home to me time and again. First Carlos dies, and now I was leaving Tabron.

  “I’ll think on it.”

  It looked like it was the best we were going to get. “And now, I’m off to see the king.” And hope he didn’t suddenly wish to see me hanging from the tree. The moment I entered the king’s suite of rooms, I faced both Morten and the king sitting at his table by the window, looking up at me. The scar-faced warrior, Syra, and two of his men were sitting at a settee arrangement, leaving no other chairs. I was forced to stand and endure their looks.

  “You wanted to talk with me?” I kept my eyes on the king. He seemed less lucid, his eyes more unfocused. Were they dilated?

  “Yes. I’ve not been feeling well.”

  “Would you like to talk privately?”

  “Why?” He wasn’t being rude. His tone sounded curious, like he wasn’t sure why we might need privacy to talk about his medical conditions.

  “You want to talk to my father alone,” Morten repeated aggressively. “Why would you need to do that?”

  I finally made myself look at him. “The relationship between a doctor and patient is privileged and confidential. The patient can share with others if he wishes, but should know that privacy is available. Not everyone wants the world to know their medical business.”

  He smiled his cold, evil smile. “I hear you were at Myrna’s house this afternoon.”

  “Then you heard wrong.”

  Morten looked over at Syra with a curious look. “Didn’t you tell me she was there?”

  “She was with Tarra,” Syra replied.

  This was ridiculous. I looked back at the king and saw that he was barely keeping up with our conversation. What was wrong with him? Was he drugged? Yes! That had to be it. He was on something. What could he be on? And now he wasn’t feeling well and Morten was acting like the rooster in charge. Had he tried to poison his own father?

  “Ral’e, what medication are you on?”

  “Hmm?” He seemed to shake his head as he tried to better focus on me.

  “What pills have you taken?”

  “Why would you ask that?” Morten interjected. Was I hearing a hint of panic in his tone? He was some kind of fucked-up individual. I ignored him, though, wanting to see if I could break through the haze the king was immersed in.

  “When did you start feeling badly? What are you feeling?”

  Morten stood abruptly, like he was going to start interrogating me. “You’ve been seen walking around the village talking to people.”

  “So sue me. I’m stuck here. I want to make friends. You may not know what that is, but it’s when other people like you because you’re a good person who is kind to them.” My sarcasm was likely getting me negative points, but my anger was beginning to stir.

  “And you’ve begun using the palace supplies to help the people.”

  “The people belong to the king. He’s supposed to take care of them.” Curiously, just to see if my hunch was right, I asked him, “So how did you get Tabron sent off this time? What paranoia did you plant in the king’s head?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. There were disturbances at the border and Tabron’s men are in charge of that sector of territory. Of course they had to investigate.” The look of satisfaction on his face said it all. Evil. He was the definition of evil.

  “King Ral’e, would it be all right if we sent these men out during your examination? They are interrupting our talk.”

  “We’ll go,” Morten stood. He motioned to the other men and gave a mocking bow on his way out the door.

  “Do you mind if I come look into your eyes?” I asked.

  The king didn’t say no, so I took that as an affirmative. The fact that he wasn’t saying anything at all led me to believe he was on something. He needed water. We needed to flush his system and get him talking again. His lunch and a pitcher of something were sitting on his table, and I wondered if Morten had somehow managed to sneak something into a sauce or into his cup. It wouldn’t be hard to crush something up.

  “Let’s get you drinking some water,” I told him, not that he was paying any attention. Surely he had a bathroom in here. I went further into his suite and found multiple doors. The first one was his closet. For a moment, I thought I saw movement at the far end and did a quick double take. It was almost like the wall moved or something like that, which was crazy sounding. The next door I came to was his bathroom, a large, opulent place filled with beautiful tiling. There was a cup for water, and I quickly got some for him from the faucet. He was slumping over in his chair when I returned with it, some spit was gathering at the corner of his mouth.

  “Ral’e. Drink this!” I tilted his head back and pushed the glass to his lips. He choked on some, rivulets of water bubbled from his resistant lips, but then he took some in. I went to get more and helped him drink before helping him move to the bed. He collapsed there in a somewhat controlled sprawl, but he grabbed my arm before I could move away. His eyes were scared. I’d seen that look on patients’ faces before.

  “I feel so strange,” he was muttering, narrowing his eyes to try and focus on me better. “Is this part of my illness? Feeling weak and out of my skull? You know, I created this. I made him who he is. I did this.”

  “I think you’re tired, Ral’e.” And I didn’t want him sharing information he would then decide he had to kill me for knowing.

  “He’s done things...” The king shook his head with despair.

  “I think you should rest for now, and in a few hours, have Tayla bring food to you that will be healthful.”

  “Because if it is part of my illness to lose myself and be so pathetically weak of mind and body, I want you to help me.” His spittle had flown with the force of his sudden upset.

  Just to be clear, I asked, “You want me to give you the surgery?”

  “Yes!” He banged his hand on the table. “I need to be strong again.”

  “You know, there will be more involved than simply having the surgery. And I still need to check on what medication you need. I’m not an internist. This isn’t the kind of doctor I am. I’ll need to look up this information for you.”

  “Talk with me tomorrow.” His lids drooped, and he was out.

  I watched him for a moment, summarizing what I knew so far. He’d killed at least twice to become king. Anyone who’d opposed him had been removed in some way. He was an evil tyrant with a son who followed in his footsteps. The son of the true king wanted to return, and he was as loved and respected as his father, apparently.

  All of the whispers of the return of the true king had reached Ral’e’s ears, but he was no longer a young man. He’d allowed himself to become sick, and wanted me to heal him. Part of me was glad to see his health imploding and to see his own son helping him to his grave, but then Morten would be in charge of things. I wasn’t sure how life could get worse here, but with Morten in charge, they would. The whole situation was fucked.

  If Hitler or Stalin were on my operating table, what would I do?

  Chapter Sixteen

  The dinner hour was a trial, particularly since the king hadn’t come to the dining area. Morten decided to take the seat of honor. Was he trying for a power play? He was going to off his father and take the throne? It didn’t seem like very many people would stand for that.

  “That is not your seat.” Bruner was standing by the side of the table with three of his men. They were refusing to sit.

  “It will be.” Morten replied coldly. “My father’s becoming very ill and does not appear to be improving.” He said this with an accusatory look my way.

  “Oh, Morten. As long as you’re serving his food, he won’t.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I think you’re smart enough to figure it out. Or are you? I th
ought it was interesting that just yesterday, he seemed fine, but today he’s senseless. I know a few medicines that can have that affect. I’m a doctor, you know.”

  “You think you’re above the law, but you better learn your place before you have to deal with me as your king.”

  “Nonsense,” Tarra sing-songed. “Kraggon will return, and as we all know, he’s the next in line, is he not? Remember? My uncle was only supposed to hold the throne until Kraggon came of age. I believe he’s grown into his own now, and if my uncle is truly sick, then he should step down.”

  Tarra seemed to be getting careless with her talk. I felt nervous for her, like at any moment, she’d be thrown in shackles for being a traitor or something. Even Bruner seemed to be giving her a look that basically said “shut the hell up,” but she gave him a simple, carefree smile.

  Though his words were calm, I could see that his anger was burning out of control by the way his eyes blazed. “Kraggon will never step foot in Dragmor with his Sunan bride.”

  “None of which concerns me. I refuse to eat where you are sitting at the head.” Bruner picked up his plate and filled it before stepping back.

  “This is where we eat, Bruner. Food doesn’t leave this room.”

  “Are you going to stop me?” Bruner set his plate down. “I welcome it.”

  “I would love to see Morten actually forced to fight a real warrior without running away.” Tarra laughed and clapped her hands.

  “I’ve sworn no allegiance to you.” It seemed the quieter Bruner’s voice became, the more deadly he sounded.

  “Do as you please. Before long, this will be my palace.”

  “What is this?” The shout came from the barrel deep chest of the king, who’d managed to bring himself down to the dining room. “You think to replace me?”

  “Not at all,” Morten stood quickly. “You should be resting. I can bring you a plate of food later.”

  “I can bring you a plate,” I said deliberately. “I am his physician. I should see firsthand what he’s eating.”

  Morten looked at me with hatred in his eyes.