Stolen Crown

by Shawn Wickersheim

  After Ian’s execution, he would continue to stoke the fires of rebellion and bring forth the revolution while the anger and fear were strongest in the hearts and minds of the Yordicians. Time was against him. Wait even a couple of days and the fiery rage which now burned so strongly against the Gyunwarians would be tempered and by midsummer if war was not deeply entrenched along their borders, the Yordicians would likely return to their complacent lives and argue that the filth should be allowed to remain within their country after all.

  THAT WOULD NOT DO!

  “Oh, I nearly forgot,” Cecily said as they left the bedroom and began their long descent to the foyer. She handed him a sealed note. “This arrived early this morning. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  Devin recognized the handwriting. It was from Stephano Di Rygazzo.

  “Will Amarias be joining us?” Cecily asked, looking over her shoulder for the giant.

  Devin shook his head. “Not today. He’s busy elsewhere . . .” He broke the seal and scanned the note. Joy filled him.

  “Yes!” He crumpled the letter in his fist and started running down the stairs oblivious to the fact that he’d left the princess behind. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!”

  chapter 18

  Josephine had hoped Lord Ian would regain consciousness and confirm his identity during the carriage ride, but he hadn’t, and he was still unconscious when they arrived outside Theodora’s quaint home on the north side of the city. Kylpin came around and paid the driver while Philson carried Ian inside and placed him gently on the matron healer’s bed. Lumist, with Josephine’s help, shuffled inside, stretched out on the sofa and promptly began snoring softly. Theodora made a circuit of the house, gathering unlit lanterns and with Garett’s help arranged them on the two tables near Ian’s head.

  “Garett, if you please . . .” Theodora said.

  The fire mage grimaced, popped what looked like a burnt wood chip in his mouth and with a twitch of a couple of fingers, he coaxed the lamps to life. Their warm golden glow pushed all but the most stubborn shadows into the far corners of the room.

  “Good. Good.” Theodora rolled up her sleeves. “Now, for this to work, I’m afraid I’ll need a volunteer to help shoulder the pain load. I’ll be honest with you, this is not as easy as it . . .” She stopped and stared at Kylpin. “What is that? Is that blood?”

  Kylpin looked down at the small black stain on his vest. “Oh! Yes, but it’s not mine. It’s the wind mage’s. He bled black not red.”

  “Give it to me!”

  Theodora very nearly ripped the vest out of Kylpin’s hands and then she shooed them all toward the door saying she would need peace and quiet if she were to perform her delicate healing magic. Something about the foreign magic already at work inside Ian making the procedure more difficult . . . and dangerous . . . and before she finished her sentence she’d shut the door in their faces.

  Since Lumist had commandeered the sofa, Josephine settled for the rocking chair on the other side of the center table. It made a melodic creak every time she rocked back and forth, back and forth and she started to think she’d be able to catch a nap, but every time she closed her eyes, the dark memories returned. She gave up on sleep, opened her eyes and caught Kylpin watching her as he paced. His stern look reminded her that she still owed him an explanation about the other day.

  “Look . . . I know you have no reason to trust me . . .” she started.

  Kylpin shook his head and put a finger to his lips. “Let’s let Lumist sleep awhile. We’ll talk later.”

  Josephine nodded, unsure if she was happy about the temporary reprieve. Part of her just wanted to tell her side and be done with it and part of her was glad to have some time to consider what she wanted to share with these gentlemen. She glanced around the room. Garett Navarro was a total stranger. Sir Lumist she knew only by reputation. Philson was the bartender at The Prancing Piper and she’d spent maybe five minutes at a table with Kylpin once a few days ago.

  And yet, for one reason or another, they all wanted to help Lord Ian and stop Lord Ragget so while she barely knew them, she knew enough to know she’d rather have them as allies than not and if that meant she’d have to share her tragic story with them to gain their trust, so be it.

  The remainder of the night passed slowly. Josephine reclined in Theodora’s rocking chair and continued to flutter just out of reach of sleep. Kylpin paced around the tidy room, stopping from time to time to inspect some bauble or trinket on a shelf. Lumist snored softly. Garett sat cross-legged in front of the hearth, chewed on burnt woodchips and watched the fire dance. Philson raided the pantry, prepared food for everyone and ate whatever nobody touched. The door to the matron healer’s bedroom remained closed.

  The sun rose. The slant of light coming through the window brightened and crept steadily across the wood floor. The room warmed. Josephine’s eyelids finally started to droop, but the glue around her mouth began to itch until finally, she stopped rocking and ripped the fake beard and mustache off. The sudden sharp pain made her cry out. Lumist jerked awake.

  “Sorry . . .” she said.

  He brushed her apology aside. “Any word from Theodora?”

  Josephine shook her head. “Not yet. How are you feeling?”

  “Better,” Lumist said. “A bit more like my old self.”

  Kylpin paced over and slouched on the sofa next to Lumist. He crossed his arms over his chest and met Josephine’s gaze. “Now that Lumist is awake, feel free to enlighten us with your story.” He glanced back at the closed bedroom door. “It seems we still have some time on our hands.”

  “There’s just so much to say and I’m not sure where to start.”

  “Just start at the beginning, my dear,” Lumist suggested. “We’ll follow along as best as we can.”

  Josephine nodded and took a deep breath and began with the night Furland Pervis stole her father, and how Lipscombe had threatened to kill her entire family unless she did as she was told. She glossed over the details of the rape and how she was supposed to make Lord Ian believe they’d been lovers and how she’d been forced to kill her father and skipped ahead to Owen’s betrayal, finding Edgar alive in the back of the collection wagon under the tarp and the discovery of the Factory deep in the heart of Motre-liare’.

  “Wait,” Kylpin slid forward until he sat on the edge of the sofa. “Are you saying this spidery, man-creature Edgar killed poisoned him with a Campornil-laced knife and if you hadn’t rescued him, he would have been used as . . . as . . . what? Building material for . . . for . . . these monsters?”

  Josephine nodded.

  “Dammit!” Kylpin stood and stalked around the room. He ran a hand through his long black hair. “I knew it was too good to be true.”

  “What are you talking about, Kylpin?” Lumist said.

  “My guess, it’s the Campornil,” Josephine said.

  Lumist glanced back at Kylpin. “She tells us about this horrific, nightmare-creating Factory, and you’re worried about . . . whatever this Campornil stuff is?”

  “Campornil is a weed found only in Scylthia,” Josephine said.

  Lumist shook his head. “What am I missing here?”

  “I told Ian about Campornil a few years ago,” Kylpin explained, “but he already knew about it and he didn’t want any part of it. He said his grandfather had written about it in his journal decades ago, said it was nothing more than poison. I thought his grandfather was wrong. The natives there use it to cure pain, all sorts of pain. Ian still wasn’t interested, but he didn’t say I couldn’t import it myself, so I didn’t see the harm in bringing some back with me. But now . . . if that’s how it’s being used . . .” He shook his head. “I guess I let my greed get the better of me.”

  “Greed?” Lumist glanced over at Kylpin. “How much gold can you make off a weed?”

  “In Scylthia, not much. But here, in Belyne, a single dose can cost upwards of a hundred gold.”

  “For a weed?”

  “For a
weed that ends pain.”

  Lumist’s jaw dropped. “That explains Lord Ragget’s sudden interest in Scylthia! If he’s importing Campornil for himself, he doesn’t have to buy it here. He gets to keep his gold and he can make his . . . gruesome monsters . . . even more cheaply.”

  “And here I thought he was only after the gems,” Kylpin said. “And the Scylthian weapons.”

  “We’re talking about Lord Ragget,” Lumist said. “He’s after it all.”

  “He might not be the only one,” Josephine said.

  All eyes turned on her.

  “What do you mean?” Kylpin asked.

  “Bolodenko.”

  Lumist and Kylpin peppered her with a barrage of questions until finally she’d had enough and told them both to be quiet.

  “Give me a second, and let me explain,” she said in their silence. “The creatures weren’t the only things being created in the Factory. A worker was force-feeding gems to caged Islanders and-”

  “Islanders?” Kylpin stopped pacing and came back to sit in front of Josephine. “You saw Islanders in the Factory? How many were there? Did you see any women?”

  Josephine considered his three questions. “Yes. Scores. And yes.”

  “You’ve got to take me to his Factory,” Kylpin jumped up. “Right now. I’ve got to rescue them. One specifically, but-”

  “It’s too late. They’re already gone. Lipscombe loaded them on his ship yesterday and left for Euclacia.”

  Kylpin growled something Josephine could only guess was a Seneician curse and slouched back on the couch.

  “I tried to stop him, but I arrived too late,” Josephine admitted. “So, I decided to turn my attention to rescuing Lord Ian.”

  “How does Bolodenko tie into all this?” Lumist asked.

  “I was just about to get there . . .”

  She told them about Bolodenko’s warning to Edgar and then what had happened at the Walpole. Lumist seemed impressed that she’d killed two of Bolodenko’s stone-faced men during her escape and Garett perked up when she mentioned the fire.

  Kylpin stood. “I guess you were right, we didn’t know the whole story.”

  “There’s more,” Josephine dug into her pack and pulled out the history book. “I think I know who Bolodenko really is.”

  She explained who the Saldoleichts were and her theory about how they might have remained hidden for a thousand years, and then she named Neko Blood as the true face of Bolodenko.

  Kylpin shook his head. “I’ve known Neko for a long time and she . . .” He trailed off for a moment. “She was the first one to approach me about importing Campornil.”

  “She was the first person I told about my family and the rape,” Josephine added. “And yet Bolodenko knew I wanted revenge on Lipscombe.”

  Lumist shook his head. “Those are some strong arguments in favor of what you’ve been saying, but I’m not completely sold on this whole story. Besides, if Bolodenko or Neko Blood or whatever you want to call him or her was one of the shape-changing Saldoleichts, why would he or she want Lord Ian rescued? And for that matter, why would he or she want Lord Ragget killed?”

  “They’re rivals,” Garett spoke up.

  Everyone turned to look at the fire mage.

  “What do you mean?” Lumist asked.

  “Josephine mentioned it earlier. Lord Ragget isn’t the only one after power here. Plus, I watched Lord Ian’s trial. I saw what happened when the fight broke out between him and Lord Ragget. Lord Ian destroyed Lord Ragget’s face. I mean, Lord Ragget looked in worse shape than Lord Ian did when we brought him here. In fact, I thought for sure Lord Ragget was a dead man, and then moments later . . .” Garett waved a hand in front of his own face. “Not a scratch on him.”

  “And that’s why you think Lord Ragget is one of these . . . Saldoleichts?” Kylpin asked. “He could just be a secret healer.”

  “True, but I know a bit about magic.” Garett pointed toward the bedroom door. “Theodora is a matron healer and how many hours has it been since she started working on Lord Ian’s face? What Lord Ragget did . . . That was something more than just healing.”

  The four men started tossing out thoughts and ideas and opinions and conspiracies until Josephine finally stood and cleared her throat.

  “Was there something more you wanted to add?” Kylpin said looking up at her.

  “Just one more troubling item. When I was outside Lord Ian’s cell, I overheard some of his interrogation.” Josephine took a deep breath. “He admitted to killing the king.”

  “No!” Lumist snapped. “I don’t believe it.”

  “I’m not lying . . .”

  “I didn’t mean you, my dear,” Lumist said. “I don’t doubt what you’ve told us today is true. I’ve always thought there were Gyunwarian-haters in the city and the existence of this macabre factory, even though it is more disturbing than I could have imagined, only confirms my suspicions. And this entire notion of shape-changers living amongst us gives me the chills . . . but . . . Ian killing the king? No.” He shook his head vehemently. “No. No. He didn’t do it and you’ll never convince me he did.”

  “That’s why I think you rescued the wrong man,” Kylpin said. “If you’d told us this bit of information back at the courthouse . . .”

  “But like I said back at the courthouse,” Josephine shot back, “Who else would they be interrogating if not Lord Ian?”

  “Maybe the . . . uh, uh . . . real killer . . .” Philson offered.

  Everyone stared at the fat bartender. He stared back, his small eyes blinking rapidly.

  Lumist pointed at the closed bedroom door. “Kylpin, maybe you should make sure Theodora is all right?”

  Kylpin rushed over and tried the knob. “It’s still locked.”

  “Theodora?” Lumist called out.

  “I said I need peace and quiet!” she hollered back.

  “But the man in there-”

  “PEACE AND QUIET!” she screamed, cutting him off.

  “If the man lying in there is not my friend,” Kylpin whispered, “I will return to the dungeon and find him. I swear it. I will not allow my friend to be executed today!”

  Though she wished Kylpin had more faith in her especially after she’d laid bare her darkest truths, Josephine couldn’t help but admire the sea captain’s loyalty. When she’d first met him at the Prancing Piper, she thought he was little more than a handsome sailor, a charming lothario with a woman in every port. Evie had been smitten by him. The last time she’d seen her though, she was with . . .

  “Oh no . . .” she put a hand to her mouth.

  “What is it, my dear?” Lumist asked.

  She climbed out of the rocking chair and went over to Kylpin’s side. “Have you seen Evie lately?”

  The muscles in his jaw clenched. Josephine’s stomach knotted. She knew, but she had to ask. “What happened?”

  “She’s dead.”

  Josephine ground her teeth. “Lipscombe?”

  Kylpin shook his head. “No, the wind mage I stabbed. Gylfalen.”

  Garett’s head shot up. “Don’t say his name again.”

  “Why?” Josephine asked. “Do you know him?”

  Garett shuddered. “Just don’t. He might hear you and come looking for you.”

  “I hope he does!” Kylpin growled. “I’d like to finish what I started with him. Gylfalen. Gyl-”

  “Stop!” Garett shouted.

  “QUIET!!” Theodora screamed from the other room.

  Josephine tugged on Kylpin’s sleeve and led him away from the bedroom door. “I understand your pain, really I do, but we’re dealing with enough here without adding an angry wind mage to out troubles. Don’t you agree?”

  Kylpin grunted and circled the room like a caged animal. He stopped next to the bedroom door again. “She must know something by now.”

  “Just let her do her work,” Lumist said.

  “She’s been at it for hours, my friend.”

  “Why don’t you
sit,” Philson suggested. “Have a drink.”

  “I don’t drink,” Lumist said.

  “He was talking to me, my friend.” Kylpin walked over and took the offered glass, stared at the liquid inside and put it down again. “No, I need to keep a clear head. Just in case . . .”

  Josephine tried not to read too much into his words, but she knew exactly what he meant. Just in case she had messed up and the man she had rescued wasn’t Lord Ian . . .

  But it had to be him! It just had to be!

  Kylpin wandered over to the window that looked out on the back porch and the towering oak tree which shaded most of the small yard beyond. “We’re almost out of time,” he said. “It’s nearly noon.”

  “I’m sure Theodora’s doing everything she can,” Lumist tried to placate him.

  “But she must know something, my friend!”

  “Be patient . . .”

  “I’ve been patient!” Kylpin suddenly roared. “This magic of hers is taking too long!”

  “Shhhhh . . .” Lumist patted the air with his hands. “She might hear you.”

  “I hope she does!” Kylpin reached into his pocket. “We should have just given him some of this.” He pulled out a small tin box and opened it. “A couple of leaves and we could have woken him up and asked him who he was.”

  “Is that Campornil?” Lumist asked.

  “It is.” He held the tin out to Lumist. “Here. Try a leaf or two, my friend. In no time at all, you’ll be able to lift a sword again.”

  Lumist stared at the offered gift.

  “Mister Caleachey, please remove that toxic weed from my home.”

  All eyes turned to the matron healer. Theodora was standing in the open doorway. Her face was drawn and pale and her darkly-stained fingers trembled, but her voice was hard and resolute.

  “What about our friend, madam?” Kylpin said. “And the title is Captain.”