by J. M. Kearl
“What could you have done differently?” Daelyn asks and sits back against the wall by the door.
Boaden’s back slides down the wall and he sits beside her. “I don’t know. I should have made her stay with the border watch and she could have found her own way home. And you know, it would be nice if your mother’s premonitions could have warned us.”
“Her gift is very unpredictable, unlike yours,” Daelyn says and briefly wonders why she doesn’t have her own unique power. “Did my father mention having a special gift, like yours and my mother’s?”
“Not that I know of. It’s not that common,” Boaden says. “Your gift may be that your magic is especially strong.”
“I thought it was only because it’s been bound for so long.”
Boaden shrugs. “That could be a reason. I don’t rightly know.”
Daelyn runs her fingers back and forth over the gold embroidery on Boaden’s shirt that she wears. Then she looks over at him, his eyes always seem to be glowing now. It’s something she’ll have to get used to. It feels like an odd time but looking at Boaden’s muscular body sends a flash of yearning through her and she climbs onto his lap, straddling him. “Let’s not let Verra ruin our night.”
22. Madison
The day after Boaden and Daelyn’s wedding Madison and Jordane left for the capitol Delmar, and made it in a few days. Verra had to be subdued with a concoction that Madison made, tied to a horse because no one could get her to cooperate.
Now Madison and Jordane sit in Queen Kyria’s throne room awaiting her arrival. For whatever reason Kyria requested to see them before the others. Madison stands and begins pacing in the palace throne room. She can’t sit any longer; half the day has already gone waiting in this room. Her stomach even begins to protest.
She turns to Jordane, pressing her hands to her black Delhoon uniform with the red phoenix symbol centered on her chest. “I’m so glad I don’t have to wear a dress anymore.”
Jordane grows a warm smile. “I’ve always liked the uniform on you more than a dress. It suits you better.” He bounces his leg staring out the window. “It’s so strange being back here. I’d almost forgotten what this room looked like. Has it changed?”
“Kyria has made some adjustments to the décor,” Madison replies. “She seems fond of red.” Red tapestries. A scarlet carpet across the white and black marble floor leading to the white throne. There is a large painting of a phoenix behind the throne, which is also red, and smaller decorations here and there with accents of the color.
Jordane stands and stretches. His body is beginning to regain some thickness now. He doesn’t look frighteningly thin any longer. The plumpness to his cheeks makes all the difference. He looks much like the attractive man she married but they haven’t resumed their intimate relations. Only a mere kiss on the cheek here and there. Why hasn’t he tried to touch me the past month? Will he even sleep in the same bed as me now that we are home?
Then the door’s fling open and Kyria struts through, red hair floating behind her and Lord Everon and Gord in tow. Rorin and Boaden had told her what Gord and Midlan had said. If Gord is here where is Midlan? I’ll kill him in front of everyone, consequences be damned.
Madison and Jordane both bow when Kyria stops before them. She shakes Madison’s hand and moves to Jordane and keeps hold of his. Tears come to her eyes, staring into his face.
“I am sorry you have been through so much. I can feel your pain.” The green jewel set in her golden crown glows with power.
Madison looks back and forth between them. Jordane’s eyes are swimming in tears. She too wants to know what happened, wants to share in his sorrow but he won’t let her. Maybe I can try harder to get him to open up to me.
Kyria releases his hand and heads to her throne. “Come.”
She takes her seat. Lord Everon is already in his and Gord stands beside him. Madison and Jordane both take a knee before their queen. “Madison, I will address you first. Gord tells me that your own ambitions to save your husband almost ruined my plans. What do you have to say about this?”
Madison glares at big blonde warrior. “Gord wasn’t there and cannot have that kind of information. He is only speculating on his personal opinion, your highness.”
Gord steps out from beside Lord Everon. “I have insider information--”
Kyria holds up her hand and her deadly lavender gaze catches Gord. “I did not give you permission to speak.”
“Madison, what happened then? Yes, King Rolland was assassinated but not in the way I planned.”
Madison takes a deep breath. She’d rehearsed the story several times. “First, I must say that there is no possible way Gord has insider information, unless he is a traitor.” Gord shifts but keeps his mouth shut. “And what really happened is that Hesstia has a magic using slave and they allow this boy to use his ability when it suits them. He had his suspicions, and proved to the king that Daelyn and I were of Delhoon lineage and magic users. So we were to be executed—your highness.”
“Why would he suspect you?” Kyria asks.
“At the festival he mentioned the color of my eyes, and I believe that was the start.”
“There are no other Hesstian’s with our color of eyes?” Kyria inquires even though Madison knows the queen knows the answer.
“There are but it’s a rare color in Hesstia. I don’t think that the slave got outside the castle much. He is a slave after all. No one else even commented.”
“If you knew he was a risk why didn’t you kill him?” Kyria asks, lacing her fingers together on her lap.
“He never gave me the chance. It would have been difficult to kill someone inside the castle unnoticed, and we weren’t there long.” Madison pauses and thinks over her next words but decides they must be spoken. “I do apologize events didn’t happen the way you wanted but I am also happy. We saved my husband, killed the king and got out alive. They have attacked our southern border and you will get the war you wanted for the freedom of magic.”
Kyria stands and Madison bows her head. Maybe she should not have spoken those last words.
“You had a special mission to find the location of the kirune mines. I heard you were close but did anything come of it?”
“Unfortunately I found nothing definitive,” Madison replies, a small smile growing on her face. She’s not to be punished for her boldness.
Jordane clears his throat. “May I speak?”
“Yes,” Kyria replies.
“I know where the mines are.”
Everyone in the room begins speaking all at once. Kyria’s voice grows louder. “Silence.” Then she walks down the steps and stands before Jordane. “Where?”
“It’s near the prison Lanloc. I worked the mines for a time.”
“Could you show me on a map?” Kyria asks, snapping her fingers and a map appears in her hand.
Jordane shakes his head. “I was blindfolded when taken there but it was a day’s ride. So I can’t say an exact location but…” he points to the marker where Lanloc prison is. “It’s within a small radius. We can certainly find it.”
Madison hasn’t been this excited since they rescued Jordane. This is the only good thing to come out of the last ten years of Jordane’s imprisonment. “With your permission I’d like to lead the team to destroy the mines,” Madison asks.
Kyria folds the map. “I’ll allow it but it won’t be right away. You two will stay here and rest awhile. Jordane needs it. As for both of your years of services, I’ve granted you an estate. I know things didn’t go exactly as I planned but you still successfully executed the mission. You do not need to fight in the war unless you choose to. Nebba Kurtain will show you to your new home. You are both dismissed until I call upon you again.”
“Thank you, your majesty,” both Jordane and Madison say and move toward the door.
“Wait,” Kyria says and walks them out of the throne room. “Midlan approached me with a tale I deemed to be lies. He was supposed to be taken to
a holding cell to await trial for the crimes you’ve accused him of, lying to his queen, and making false claims against fellow soldiers, but I’ve been told he escaped.” Kyria peers over her shoulder quickly. “I believe he was let go but I cannot prove that. I wanted you both to know. If he is caught, he will be immediately executed.”
The deep seated hatred for Midlan grew further. She had tried to stop thinking about him. About the time they shared together and what he’d done to her family but this made her want revenge more than almost anything else. I better be the one who finds him then.
23. Enden
Enden blocks a sword coming down at him and pushes back, his sparring partner, Peter, stumbles. Often times Enden doesn’t know if his people let him win or if he is as good as he seems to be. Occasionally he’ll get a bruise from a blunted sword or caught in what would be a lethal blow but it’s rare. He stabs at his opponent’s torso then slashes up at Peter, and hits him across the chest with his dulled blade. Peter pushes forward, swinging at Enden.
Entari Freyloc, the rough warrior from the Outlands, lets out a hoarse laugh. “You’d already be dead, boy.”
Peter stops and takes a step back, bowing to Enden admitting his defeat. Enden nods and signals Freyloc into the ring.
Freyloc takes the sparring sword from Peter and waves it around slowly. “It’s light compared to my own. Shorter as well.”
Enden tilts his head. “Don’t hold back.”
Freyloc grins, flashing white teeth beneath his bushy auburn beard. He charges Enden and they clash swords. Freyloc is stronger than he anticipated and he barely holds onto his sword. From them on Enden is on the defensive, blocking blows and when he gets a chance, swinging with all his might. Enden is not a small man, but Freyloc is much larger and wields the sword with a force the king has trouble contending with. His arms begin to tire and Freyloc appears winded, so they circle each other. Sweat drips down the side of Enden’s face but his breaths that were fast at first, begin to slow. He makes a move, chopping at Freyloc’s thigh but he jumps back and Freyloc’s sword smacks hard onto Enden’s shoulder. Enden lets out a quiet cry and drops his sword, bringing his hand up to hold his injured arm.
“Now I know my men always held back,” he mumbles under his breath. No one had ever hit him that hard before. He drops to a knee, his shoulder bursting with pain.
Freyloc drops down in front of him, worry in his rough face, “Sire, I apologize, I shouldn’t have hit you so hard. Is it broken?”
Peter waves over Jershon who had been standing off to the side. “Let’s get you inside,” Peter says lifting Enden under his good arm. Other guards and guests are starting to gather and stare and he doesn’t want the attention.
They stop in the first empty room and Peter pulls out a knife. Freyloc steps closer, assuming a threat. “He won’t hurt me,” Enden says. “Cut my shirt. I can’t lift my arm.”
Peter rips through the fabric easily, leaving his shirt open to see the sagging shoulder where the collarbone is clearly broken.
Jershon sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Your highness, let me go get some pain potion for you.”
Freyloc stares at Enden with a question in his eyes. “Yes, I let him use magic when it suits me. Is there a problem, Freyloc?”
Freyloc shakes his head but there is something behind his placid expression that Enden suspects he might have a problem.
“Not at all, Sire,” Freyloc replies.
When Peter touches Endens arm, an involuntary groan escapes his mouth. Damn that hurts!
Jershon hurries for the exit. “Wait, Jershon.” Enden says. “Bring Saveena back with you and the green stone sitting on my desk.” Jershon nods and disappears from the room.
“Who is Saveena?” Freyloc asks slipping his thumbs into this vest. “Another magic user?”
Peter and Enden exchange glances. Peter is one of the people he’d entrusted to watch her and knows the story of how she came to the castle. Enden still keeps day and night watch on her. Though he’s grown to care for the woman, she has yet to earn his trust. The only thing she has told him about Collweya is dragons and blood drinkers. She’s spoken nothing about who she is or of her people. Her meals have been brought to her, as have fresh clothes but otherwise she sits in the room by herself until Enden turns in for sleep. Some nights the woman loves him with a wild hunger, more passion than he’d expect from someone who didn’t love him, and other days she turns her back and won’t even look at him. He’s utterly confused by the woman but can’t deny his growing feelings for her. Maybe that’s her play. Maybe she’s manipulating him.
“Saveena is my prisoner. Anything you see here today you must keep secret, Freyloc. Only a select few know I allow Jershon to use magic from time to time. I know it goes against our laws and gods but when it’s controlled it has its uses.”
Freyloc lifts his chin. It’s likely that he believes in other gods, being from the north, and has his own opinions on magic. Most of the northern Hesstian’s used magic before they came under the kingdom’s rule. “Of course, Sire.”
Enden feels like he’s been on a slippery slope with magic and his own rules. More people knowing about what he and his brother allowed. Falling irrationally in love with Daelyn, now he has Saveena and though she is not a natural born magic user, she has the enchanted stones. Much like the one he has. He took it from the vault when she mentioned that her people use them but to him it’s an ordinary stone, he knows nothing of spells.
Saveena is escorted by two guards and Jershon follows through the door with a glass bottle in hand that Enden is desperate for. The pain in his arm seems to intensify with each passing minute. “Leave us,” Enden says to the guards. He trusts them to watch his prisoner but not to see magic.
Saveena stares at his broken shoulder from near the doorway. Jershon places the bottle in Enden’s good hand. “A few sips and the pain should be gone, Sire. I wish I could heal you but with my limited knowledge, I can’t.”
“I know,” Enden says and takes as slug of the potion. Enden had given Jershon one spell book, mostly for potions and there was nothing in it about healing broken bones. That’s what Saveena is here for. “Do you have it?”
Jershon takes the green stone, about half the size of his palm from his pocket. “Yes, Sire.”
Saveena’s eyes grow wide gawking at the stone. Whether she realizes it or not she’s moving towards it. “Where did you get that?” she asks.
Enden takes the stone from Jershon and runs his fingers over the smooth coolness of it. “We’ve had it in the vault since well before I was born. Can you heal me with it?”
Saveena folds her arms. “I have the knowledge to do so.”
“So do it,” Enden says holding out his palm.
She turns away. “I won’t unless you promise to let me go outside.”
Freyloc mumbles something under his breath about a woman talking out of place, and Peter gives Enden a surprised expression. Jershon has the look on his face like he knows what’s coming because he’s experienced what happens when he doesn’t follow commands. With his men watching and waiting for his response, Enden flies up from his chair and grabs Saveena by her face and shoves her against the wall. “You will do as you are told, woman.”
Her wide blue eyes don’t have fear in them but hurt. She didn’t think he’d do this to her, but what she doesn’t know is that he should do much worse than that. No one defies the king in front of his men.
Enden releases her face, grips her arm and jerks her over to where he takes a seat. “Now, fix my damn arm. And don’t try anything else or they will kill you. Peter, take off Jershon’s manacle just in case.” Enden slides his kirune ring off his finger and sets it on the table beside him. “Remove her manacle.”
Peter slides in the key and catches the kirune in his hand.
Saveena takes the stone and places it lightly on Enden’s shoulder where the bone split. At first it’s only a whisper but she is speaking words he doesn’t understand, th
en she says it a little louder but nothing happens. She repeats the phrase one more time, and looking confused says, “I’m not sure why this isn’t working.”
Enden grumbles. “It’s the kirune shard buried within your arm blocking the spell from working. Give it to Jershon and tell him how to do it.”
Jershon holds out his hand even though with his natural born magic he probably doesn’t need it. Saveena tells him the words, he speaks them and the stone begins to glow, he places it lightly on Enden’s shoulder and repeats the words. Then he places the stone in the hand of the arm that had been broken. “There you are, Sire.”
Enden looks down; the bones are set back to the way they once were. He moves his shoulder all around and smiles, amazed at how quick and flawless the spell had worked. It otherwise would have taken months for him to be able to use it properly again.
Peter looks to Freyloc. “Don’t ever hit King Enden that hard again.”
Enden laughs so Freyloc doesn’t feel he’s in trouble for what he did, having told the Entari not to take it easy, it’s not his fault. “Well, gentlemen, it’s been great sparring with you, maybe next time I won’t tell you not to hold back. But I have some other matters I need to attend to.”
Peter places the manacle back on Jershon as Enden pulls Saveena from the room. He slips the magic stone into his pocket and walks her back to his bedchambers closing the door behind him. “I’m done being nice. Tell me about your people. Your armies, your dragons. Everything.” I need to know if I could have a potential ally or enemy.
“Or what, you’ll hit me?” she asks walking away from him. “Throw me against the wall again?”
Enden’s patience is growing thin and he clenches his fists. He just might hit her, and then an epiphany comes to him. He doesn’t know for sure but it’s a guess. “You’re royalty.” She had to have been raised as royalty or she’d never speak this way to a king. She’s used to getting her own way, making demands, and she’s hiding her people from him.