Stolen Crown

by Shawn Wickersheim

  Tyran had survived.

  “Give me your bow.”

  chapter 50

  The bolt hissed past both men. The Loyalist turned to watch it shatter against the stone wall next to his face. A gasp of horror escaped his lips first and then a sharp bark of laughter.

  “You missed!” he cried gleefully. He turned back. “You fucking bit-”

  A second bolt punched into his exposed forehead and he dropped without making another sound.

  The droning noise in Josephine’s skull lessened and she spun around. Loyalist lay dead everywhere. Her bolts protruded from most of them.

  “You got any more of those?” Mingo said, limping up to her. He was bleeding from a cut on his leg. “I sure would like to get my hands on one of them.”

  Josephine shook her head. “My father made this one for me.”

  “Can I see it?”

  “You saw it well enough just now, my friend,” Kylpin said, walking over. He wiped the blood off his blade.

  “Are we taking orders from you now, pirate?” Mingo grumbled. “I didn’t hear Lord Ian name you successor.”

  “Actually, if anyone is his successor, it’s me,” Josephine said.

  “You?” Roy rose from where he had been crouching. Evan’s skull had been caved in during the fight. “Why? Because you think you two were married back there?”

  Josephine shrugged. “Yes. Plus, before he died, he whispered to me his final wishes.”

  Roy snorted. “Hey, Denton, did you hear this?”

  The burly guard didn’t answer. He was busy searching the dead Loyalists.

  “What’s he . . . uh, uh . . . looking for?” Philson asked.

  The bartender looked even skinnier now. Had he played his pipes while they fought? Josephine had heard music, but she’d thought it had come from inside her skull.

  “He’s not here . . .” Denton muttered.

  “Who?” Kylpin asked.

  Denton looked up. “Mason.”

  “The coward probably ran inside once the fighting started,” Roy said.

  “Don’t worry, boss,” Mingo added. “We’ll find him.”

  Kylpin sidled up next to Josephine. “Just so you know, I’m not so sure how official that marriage was.”

  “What you did was fine,” Josephine said.

  “Did Lord Ian actually name you his successor?”

  “He thought I was the love of his life.”

  “But you weren’t.”

  “He didn’t know that.”

  “You let him believe it.”

  “I didn’t see the harm in it at the time,” Josephine said. “And I surely didn’t expect him to propose.”

  “What about Tyran?”

  “I promised to find him and get him to Gyunwar safely.”

  “I mean, he is the rightful heir.”

  “I know,” Josephine said. “And I agree with you there. Once he’s safely away from here, I’ll make sure he gets everything that belongs to him.”

  Kylpin studied her for a moment.

  “You’re going to have to start trusting me sometime, Kylpin,” Josephine said. “Otherwise, that journey to Bel’yowlye is going to be a rather long one.”

  “You’re still going?” Edgar said as he rejoined them.

  Josephine nodded. “Not just for Ian’s sake either. I need to find my grandfather. There are questions I have that I think only he can answer for me.”

  “Like what?”

  Josephine headed for the mahogany front doors. “Like why I seem to attract men who ask me so many questions.”

  “That’s an easy one, love, I mean Lady Weatherall-”

  “Don’t call me that,” Josephine said.

  Edgar shrugged. “Fine. I’ll still answer your question. It’s because of your beautiful bum.”

  “My beautiful bum makes you ask questions?”

  “I figure if I drive you crazy with all my questions, you’ll get frustrated and walk away.” Edgar smiled. “And then I get to watch you shake that bum of yours.”

  Josephine rolled her eyes and walked away.

  “See!” Edgar said. “It worked again!”

  Josephine glanced over her shoulder. “Maybe if you spent more time watching after yourself and less time staring at my bum, you wouldn’t have gotten into trouble back there and I wouldn’t have had to save you.”

  “Save me?” Edgar snorted. “You missed with your first shot.”

  “I did that on purpose, you dolt. I had to distract him, so he’d come out a bit from behind you.”

  “Is that how you’re planning on telling it later, Lady Weatherall?”

  “I might add in the part about you wetting yourself.”

  Garett watched the two bicker. When Philson walked past, he pulled on his sleeve. “Is this how it is?”

  The bartender glanced down at the young fire mage. “Is this how what is?”

  “We just killed sixty men and we’re strolling into Lord Ragget’s estate perhaps to face certain death and they’re chatting away as if . . .” Garett struggled to finish his sentence. “As if we’re all out for a late-afternoon stroll.”

  “Some people react differently to . . . uh, uh . . . stressful situations,” Philson said. “Instead of dwelling on it, they like to change the topic and joke around. Haven’t you noticed that before?”

  “I guess not.” Garett thought for a second. “Fire mages tend to work alone.”

  “Because your talent requires it?”

  “No,” Garett said. “More so to keep our friends from getting burned.”

  Philson frowned and edged away from him. Garett laughed. “I’m kidding. I thought that’s what you said people did. I made a joke.”

  “Yours wasn’t funny.”

  “Sure it was. Fire mages don’t usually have friends.”

  “Ooooh . . .” Philson said slowly. “Is it because you all tell . . . uh, uh . . . lousy jokes?”

  “No, because we tend to burn people if they get too close to us.”

  Philson chuckled. “There you go. Now you’re getting the . . . uh, uh . . . hang of it.”

  Garett’s brow furrowed. “No . . . that last bit wasn’t a joke.”

  Philson roared with laughter and walked on ahead of him. Garett glanced around and saw Denton coming up behind him. “That wasn’t a joke.”

  Denton rolled his broad shoulders. “Do you see me laughing?”

  Garett stopped next to the twin braziers just outside the tall arched mahogany front doors. Since leaving Theodora’s he’d chewed on his second to last piece of charred wood. Now would probably be a good time to discover if he could draw some fire inside him and hold it. He glanced back at the dead men scattered across the yard. He hadn’t burned a single foe.

  He stretched out his hand. A small flame leapt from the brazier and danced in his palm. He smiled. A few days ago, he would have scoffed at such an easy trick. Now, he was so pleased.

  “Come along, young jester,” Philson poked his head out. “We don’t want to lose you.”

  Garett followed the big man inside and his gaze was immediately dragged up toward the chandelier and its hundreds of burning white candles. He let out a long sigh. He could sit here for hours and just watch the flames dance.

  “Oh!” a young woman exclaimed.

  All eyes turned to the strawberry-blonde woman standing in the open archway on the far side of the foyer. Garett grimaced. It was the buxom maid with the new uniform who smelled of raspberries with just a hint of cream. The last time he’d seen her he’d been so much more powerful. His face burned with embarrassment.

  “My lord didn’t say anything about guests.” She ran her hands down the front of her white apron and pushed a curl back off her forehead. “I was just dusting the armor.”

  Hundreds of suits of polished armor lined the hallway behind her.

  “And where might your lord be?” Kylpin asked.

  “I . . .” The young maid’s gaze wandered over them and her lower lip started
trembling. Finally, she spotted Garett and her face brightened. “I . . . oh, hello again, young sir.”

  Everyone turned to look at Garett. His cheeks burned brighter. Before she could say anything more, he rushed forward, took her by the elbow and guided her over to the far corner of the foyer. “My . . . friends . . . and I would very much like to speak with your master, but we’d also very much like it to be a surprise . . .”

  “Garett?” Kylpin started toward them. “Is everything-?”

  He held up a hand and waved the ship captain back.

  “Oh.” She glanced over her shoulder and wrinkled her freckled nose. “I mean no disrespect, sir, but you and your friends are all rather . . .”

  Garett looked back at the other seven. Denton, Roy and Mingo were still wearing their ratty prison garb. Philson’s baggy clothes were more grease-stains than cloth. Kylpin still reeked of the sea. The side of Edgar’s face was splattered with gore. Only Josephine was wearing a fresh change of clothes but considering all the blood splattered on her, he really didn’t think they were all that fresh anymore. “Filthy? Smelly? Unpresentable?”

  “Foreigners.”

  “Oh.” Garett nodded. “Yes, you could say that about us as well. I hadn’t really considered that before. You’re very observant.”

  “I don’t mean anything by it,” the maid said. She lowered her voice. “I myself have a bit of Dardynian in me, on my mother’s mother’s mother’s side.”

  “I thought I noticed something a little different about you. Your hair-”

  “Garett!” Kylpin growled.

  “Yes, just a minute.” Garett flashed her yet another smile. “My friends are a bit anxious to conduct this meeting.”

  The maid nodded. “I wouldn’t normally divulge this kind of information, but since you’ve seen him before-”

  “Yes, yes,” Garett cut her off. “Is he in the same room upstairs?”

  “Oh no.” She leaned in close. “He’s in the Throne Room.”

  “The Throne Room? At the castle?”

  She laughed merrily. “No, silly. The one in his Tower. At the top. Above the magical waterfall.”

  “Oh. Of course.” Garett released her elbow. “Has he been up there long?”

  She shrugged. “A while. Maybe an hour. Shall I go and announce you?”

  “No, that won’t be necessary,” Garett said. He waved his finger around at the various doors. “Which way?”

  “You can get to it from inside, but I’ve always found it quicker to cut across the courtyard.” She pointed toward the hallway with the suits of armor. “That way.”

  He kissed her cheek. Her skin was so soft and cool. “Thank you.”

  She blushed and curtsied.

  Garett rushed back to his friends. “He’s in his throne room at the top of the tower.”

  “Didn’t I tell you?” Kylpin glanced over at Josephine.

  “I don’t remember arguing with you.”

  “He’s been up there for a good hour already,” Garett said. “Maybe we should dispense with the light-hearted banter and just go find him already?”

  “We’ve been waiting for you to finish chatting up your . . . uh, uh . . . girl,” Philson pointed out.

  “She’s not my girl.”

  “That’s not what it looked like from here.”

  “I barely even know her.”

  “How exactly do you know her?” Kylpin asked.

  “Who cares?” Denton grumbled. “Which way to the throne room?”

  “She said the quickest way is through there.” Garett pointed.

  Josephine shook her head. “I don’t think we should go that way.”

  “Why not?” Garett asked.

  “Something doesn’t feel right about it.” She closed her eyes. “There’s a strange . . . noise . . . very faint . . .”

  Philson was nodding. “I hear it too. It’s almost like . . .

  “Music . . .” they said in unison.

  The maid stepped into the long hallway and gestured. “Come along now. Let me show you the way.”

  Garett started to follow. Josephine grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “No. Don’t.”

  “I’ve heard enough of this nonsense,” Roy grumbled. He pushed past them all and stepped into the hallway.

  The nearest suit of armor leapt down from its pedestal, swung its sword and Roy’s head fell off his shoulders and rolled to a stop at the maid’s feet. She looked down, then back up again, her expression of horror changing to one of delight. “Come along now. Let me show you the way.”

  The words were barely out of her lips when like a row of falling dominoes the suits of armor jumped one-by-one down from their pedestals. The foyer filled with the echoing sounds of metal clanging against metal.

  “This way!” Edgar shouted. He was standing next to an open door tucked discreetly in the corner.

  Garett dashed across the foyer and slipped past Edgar first. The hallway beyond was dank and dark and smelled of mold and shit and death. He started to turn back, but the rest of his companions had filed in behind him and their momentum pushed him deeper into the hazy darkness.

  “Give us a light, won’t you, Garett?” Josephine called out.

  Before he could bring a bit of flame to his palm, a mighty roar shattered the heavy air around them and shook the walls. Garett swallowed down the scream lodged in his throat. He’d been in dungeons before. He knew how even the simplest noises could stand a man’s hair on end.

  Though, he had to admit, that roar had sounded more animal-like than man-made.

  “Garett?” Josephine whispered. “Just a little light if you please.”

  From somewhere behind him, he heard a solid thump, thump, thump.

  “Make it quick, boy!” Denton rumbled. “This door won’t hold those damn Knights back for long!”

  Garett created a tiny flame in his palm. The light wasn’t much, but it provided them just enough illumination to see by. Garett led them forward, and down a dank flight of stairs. He shuddered every time a drip fell from the ceiling and splattered on his face.

  Another roar echoed through the dungeon. It sounded closer this time. Garett hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. A narrow corridor continued the way they were heading while another doubled back and disappeared behind the stairs. “Any idea which way we should go?”

  Edgar pushed past him and sniffed the air. “That way.” He pointed straight ahead.

  “Why? Does it smell better that way?” Garett asked.

  Edgar shrugged and offered him a grin. “Nah. It all pretty much smells the same to me. Just the other way would lead us back under Ragget’s main estate.”

  “How do you know there’s more than one way out?”

  “Think about it,” Edgar said. “You’re Lord Ragget. You have a prisoner you want to hold for a couple days. Do you bring him through the front door and into the foyer the way we came in?” Edgar shook his head. “Nah. There’s another way in and out. We just got to find it.”

  They heard one more thump followed by a crash of metal.

  “Less talking, more looking,” Denton grumbled.

  Garett and Edgar picked up the pace. The dark corridor wound and twisted and occasionally branched off, and though Garett quickly lost all sense of direction, Edgar never hesitated. Left, right, right, left. Soon the crash of metal faded.

  “Have you been down here before?” Garett gasped after Edgar made another choice and they turned a corner. The corridor widened, and they were able to jog side-by side.

  “Why do you ask?” Edgar shot him a sideways glance. “Just because I steal things from time to time?”

  “No . . . I . . .” Garett gagged. The moist air all around him was suddenly thick with the stench of raw sewage and rotting flesh. “Damn! What is . . .that?”

  Edgar pointed to a narrow stairwell off to their right. “Ragget’s dungeon is close.”

  “Because of the stench?”

  “That and wagon tracks.”

 
For the first time, Garett noticed the twin rows of worn stones beneath his feet.

  “My guess, we keep going along here we’ll come out on some back road outside Ragget’s estate.” Edgar slowed. “But that ain’t what we want.” He stopped and pointed. “Here’s what we want.”

  Garett leaned in close. There was a ladder built into the side of the tunnel. “How’d you find that?”

  “Sharp eyes have saved me more than once.” He made a gesture. “You first. You have the light.”

  Garett shifted the flame onto the back of his hand and he began to climb.

  “Ladies, next.”

  “You just want to stare at my bum,” he heard Josephine say.

  Edgar laughed. “You know me so well, Lady Weatherall . . .”

  “I told you not to call me that!”

  Garett briefly listened to their flirtatious banter, but he quickly tuned it out in favor of paying attention to what he was doing. A fall now would be disastrous for everyone! Hand over hand, boots landing firmly on each rung, he climbed higher and higher.

  The air grew warmer and Garett found himself smiling. After the cool dampness of Ragget’s dungeon, he welcomed the thought of sunshine on his face again. Up ahead, he spied a metal trapdoor.

  “Give me a moment,” he called down.

  He braced his legs and arched his back and put his shoulder against the door. It opened easily enough. Bright sunlight poured in and Garett’s smile widened. He loved sunshine.

  He climbed out and reached back to offer Josephine a hand.

  One by one, the companions climbed out into a shallow valley covered in tulips.

  “There it is.”

  He didn’t really need to point. Ragget’s Central Tower soared hundreds of feet in the air, taller than any other tower in Belyne. A waterfall magically fell through the center of it. Where the water came from, no one knew, but it emptied into a deep lake on the tower’s western side. Garett prayed they didn’t need to do any kind of swimming.

  Denton exited last and closed the trapdoor behind him. He searched for a lock and grunted in disgust when he found none. “Let’s keep moving. There were a few Knights on the ladder behind me.”

  “They’re not just behind us,” Josephine said.

  Above them on the valley’s ridge, scores of magically animated Knights appeared, their heavy boots crushing the colorful tulips. Denton and Mingo immediately started up the shallow hill brandishing their swords. The Knights marched down to meet them. Josephine cocked her head to one side, and after a moment, she shouted, “Stop!”