by Ed Montalvo
He stood with a low bow, “As you will great lady,” stepped back a few paces before straightening and exit the chamber. Once outside he wiped his brow and thought how much of a bitch she is.
Another attractive Drouwen female approached Urilah. The new empress addressed her, “Is the palace walls breached?”
Chadzi, Cha’chila’s personal attendant stopped at a respectable distance, “As you say, great lady.”
By the final day’s glow, the battle was won outside. The enemy stormed the imperial palace gates. They overwhelmed the empress’s soldiers. Urilah’s knights crashed through the main doors, fighting more guards and soldiers.
***
“Where in the blessed Abyss is Duke Dorian?” she hissed aloud while pacing before her throne with a quick but graceful step.
Her chief assassin stepped forward holding a small scroll. The assassin didn’t mask her expression, even if she could, she wouldn’t. The news was too horrible to fathom, “Your highness, I received word of his lordship,” she glanced between the note and her empress, not hiding the horror in her eyes.
“And?” she said impatiently.
With a dread stare, she addressed the empress, “His daughter by marriage and children were killed,” she sounded personally injured.
Shock took a frightful hold on everyone in the chamber, “What?” an advisor murmured in disbelief. What monster would dare commit such an atrocity against children, she thought.
Almost meekly she turned towards her throne, “They killed his children,” whispered the empress, her tone disbelieving. “Who is responsible?” the empress asked meekly.
The assassin continued, “It is unclear who was responsible Great Lady.”
Tha’taliah breathed softly, unbridled thoughts of her mother’s assassination rush back. She couldn’t imagine what his lordship was feeling. They killed his daughter by marriage and children. “Blest Demon Queen, what have they done?” she quietly stepped to her thrown and sat. It was inconceivable that anyone could do such a thing. If she falls, her replacement may well make this horrible crime disappear. The fear that nearly stilled her heart, this may not be the last of such a crime. Would they be like the humans, the thought in of itself was a dreadful prospect.
Members of the court crowded the empress, giving her counsel to survive the night. As they chattered the empress recalled a frightening memory. She glanced at the only silent court member, high priestess Cha’chila. She recalled what the high priestess warned. ‘Turn on the father, the young dragon will destroy all as we know.’ Tha’taliah stepped away from her thrown. Her court silenced expecting their Empress to speak when she addressed the high priestess, “What is your counsel?”
Cha’chila gracefully folded her hands and bowed her head. She too had trouble accepting house Tu’deforontug’s appalling actions. “Nothing your highness,” she said softly.
Alarmed, “Nothing?” Tha’taliah said.
“Nothing can be done now, your highness. His lordship will fall this night along with his house…” she paused.
The pause prompted her, “But…”
Cha’chila continued, “It is, as I have seen.”
The empress understood her reference. Cha’chila believed Dregous was still alive. Her vision implied he was the ever-growing, powerful hatchling that will trample the surface world and the gods. And now, the Empire as well for turning on his house. Her fears realized, part of her vision came to pass. “Is there no escaping this night?”
Cha’chila stole a glimpse, “For the throne… no,” she answered softly. “Less we feint fate.”
“Feint?”
“I will replace you while you escape,” Cha’chila said.
The Empress pondered the idea while her advisers attempted to overhear. The crown preservation is paramount. “What do you plan.”
Cha’chila motioned the mage, “Come,” she addressed her Empress, “Chanzi will change your appearance to look like a servant. She will transform me into you, your highness, then we three will make our escape,” she explained.
The Empress ordered her court to take their positions and defend the Palace. Cha’chila explained her plan in detail. For the crown to survive only they could know the truth. If the Empress was reinstated, she would reward the priestess greatly. Cha’chila knew her chances to survive the night was thin. Hours later, after detailing their plan, Chanzi changed the Empress first, then the priestess.
A centurion entered when the casting was completed, “Your highness,” he addressed Cha’chila, “They breached the palace gates and advanced rapidly!” she said excitedly.
The Empress looked at Chanzi with a cool stare, “Our time is short.” Chanzi nodded. “Now, you two must go,” she instructed.
Alarmed, “Your highness…” Cha’chila started.
The empress felt she needed to remain, thereby changing Cha’chila’s plans. “No,” Tha’taliah said firmly. “You can serve me best by leaving…” she said softly while stroking Chanzi’s hair. “…if all goes well, we shall see one another soon, under a different banner for now,” the Empress said.
Chapter 12
Have you heard the tale of the widow and the water spider? Water bars a widow’s path. She noted a male water spider and asked if he would cross her the other side. He refused since she is a widow. She laughed, if I sting you, I too will die. With that, he agreed. Upon the other side, the widow bit him as she dismounted. Stunned, “Why, I crossed you over.” She smiled, “I said nothing of sparing you once here.”
Footnotes of the Drouwen bible, Cha’chila’s Demon Queen’s tome
The empress’s personal lover served her over a hundred years. His infatuation for her knew no bounds. He felt great pride knowing he will die for her, and his immortality assured, for his sacrifice. They were certain they would spare the servants. His lips trembled, “Your highness…”
“I know,” the empress said. Cha’chila remained silent. She feared the outcome. The opposing forces banged the main doors. The empress rushed to her secret escape passage and activated the trigger, then pushed it open, “Go,” she ordered.
Cha’chila addressed her Empress, “Your grace, we must all go?”
“No, I must learn who committed the catastrophic crime. Your task is to find the hatchling,” she commanded while shoving her through the escape tunnel. “Pull on the ring to prevent pursuers.”
The high Priestess nodded as Chanzi took her arm. “With haste, if this is to work!” her tiny voice was drowned by the great audience chamber doors crashing down.
The imperial guards leaped into combat, holding the enemy at bay. It wasn’t long before they were overwhelmed. Urilah carelessly walked through the fray, confident nothing would happen as she scanned the throne. The Empress fled through a doorway accompanied by her mage. She thought there was another by the escape route as it closed.
The empress shoved Cha’chila in when she saw her personal servant Chadzi following lady Urilah, the mistress heading the assault against their Empress. Cha’chila’s affection for her acolyte bordered on love. The priestess wondered why she stood beside Urilah. Heartbroken, her eyes pooled with anger.
“Priestess?” Chanzi hissed from down the tunnel, “Pull the ring.”
She yanked it then jumped back with a yelp when something crashed against the door. “Oh, beloved darkness,” she prayed softly.
Her personal guards held them back long enough for them to escape. The lead guard, the empress’s personal playmate shouted, “De doomeh!”
The Empress was committed once her escape route closed. She prayed she’d live long enough to escape, since her guard ordered, to the last.
Her heart weighted seeing them sacrifice themselves for her clones’ escape. Only three remained and ready to die for their Empress. She wanted to save the last of them but knew she couldn’t without giving herself away. “Stand down,” she said before she realized what she did.
Urilah was surprised a servant commanded the Imperial guards. Sh
e studied her and conjured a magical detection and found an enchantment on the servant. Many thoughts streamed through her mind. It perplexed her, why would the Empress risk herself for her guards? “That is not Tha’taliah,” she concluded softly.
Chadzi stood behind her, “Pardon Great lady?”
“That is not her,” she said confidently.
Chadzi focused and detected a low magical aura. “Should we not be certain,” she breathed.
“Waste no time on that. It is a ruse to delay us…,” Urilah strolled to the Empress, “…very clever. I must admit, had you remained silent, I would have known you were the Empress,” she grabbed the Empress’s chin gently. Chadzi discretely prepped to dispel the enchantment.
The remaining three imperial guards were surrounded with their backs to the concealed door. Wounded, though satisfied they provided their Empress and her aids enough time to escape, drop their weapons. Two centurions escorted her passed the throne.
Tha’taliah noticed Chadzi and suspected she was casting a spell. The empress struck one of her escorts on the crotch and the other on the throat, then took off running.
Chadzi managed her cast as the commotion took place and detected a minor magical aura. Another guard drew his hand crossbow and shot the Empress’s rear shoulder. She stumbled against the wall and slid to the floor.
The new empress backhanded the knights’ crotch, then stepped forward and kicked his chest, sending him sprawling on the stone floor. “I need her alive!” Urilah second-guessed herself and wondered if she was truly the Empress. She signed another with slight facial gestures, ‘bring her.’ The knight rushed as he waved another to aid him. They carried the Empress to her resting chamber behind the throne. Urilah wondered, why would the empress risk herself for a guard. That wasn’t the empress, she was an attractive servant. The leader of the empire isn’t dimwitted enough to give herself away. “I was correct, that is not her,” she hissed triumphantly to herself.
The empress looked at Urilah’s expression and feared her second disguise’s discovery, “Forgive my deception great lady, I am a simple servant!” she said with a head bow.
Urilah ignored her, “Quickly, the escape door!” Two of her soldier's, shoulder bashed the wall with a muffled thud. She addressed the disguised Empress and considered her execution. “Away with her.”
“Great lady,” he grabbed a hand full of the empress’s hair, “Shall I kill her?”
The empress’s eyes closed weighing her decision. “Not yet.” A female centurion crashed in the audience chamber. The guard looked disappointed. He was hoping to vent his frustration on her.
“He fell, Great lady! He is dead…!”
“Who!” Urilah shouted.
“The Duke is dead!” she shouted gleefully. The guard softened his hold on the empress when he heard the news.
The Great lady Urilah was elated and sighed with satisfaction the Duke finally fell, when she saw her guard address her. She mused, “Release her,” and stepped to the messenger for details.
The tightness on her scalp eased when the brute freed her hair. The news of her mentor, friend, and lover, dead…. It didn’t quite register in her mind until a cleric tended her wound.
The priest thought the servant cried from the injury. She barely noticed what he was doing. Her grief masked the profound sorrow swelling within. She was grateful for the pain masked the emotional distress she felt. Tha’taliah allowed herself a brief moment of grieving. Survived the night, they said, but what is to become of us now that my Dorian is dead… she thought, her tears streamed.
***
Tuke tended the wounded and prayed no more Orks would come. Although divinely cured they would still be sore.
“When are they coming back?” Rem wondered aloud while cleaning his weapon.
Mirehnah glanced at him then Seeker, “Something may have happened. Perhaps…” she started.
Tatiana interrupted, “No need, we apologize,” she walked close behind Dregous ready to aid him. She failed to mask her concerns from anyone.
Tuke stepped closer. “Is all well?” he glanced between the couple. Tatiana nodded.
“Did it happen again?” Rem whispered. His concern was split between himself and the prince.
Tatiana’s eyes widen, discouraging further inquiry, it was too late. Lehoneh stepped forward, “Again?” he studied the princess, then Dregous.
“Lehoneh…,” Mirehnah started.
“Quite all right my lady,” Dregous glimpsed his princess. She studied him, then address the Elven high born again. “I am empathic, and your grief for your betrothed was alien and overwhelming. I did not understand the experience.” He held Tatiana’s hand firmly, “She aided me in understanding,” he misled.
“Does your kind not grieve for loved ones?” she was surprised.
“Not as you do. Our grieving is minor at best,” he said. Drouwens grieve verbally, rarely do they shed tears.
Seeker returned after searching the Orks for any valuables and saw Dregous and Tatiana looking odd. “Is all well?”
The Ayrian princess looked over her shoulder, “It is,” she said. Seeker wondered why she lied. Was there something wrong with the prince, she thought.
Lehoneh remained silently skeptical. Mirehnah, accepted the mage’s explanation.
They readied to travel when Dregous became still. He stretched his feelings. A cold empty sensation filled him with dread.
“Dregous?” Tatiana noticed his stillness. An urgency came over her, “Arm yourselves!” she shouted.
“Ah hell!” Rem hissed as he reached for his sword.
“What?” Mirehnah asked as Ork’s charged them. Surprised, she screamed as one tackled her brother from the shrubbery with a short sword.
The Elves barely had time to react. Seeker leapt to a tree limb. Rem shielded Tatiana. The Elves were beaten back as more Orks charged, overwhelming the party.
One shield bashed Dregous while the other slashed a short sword across his chest. He spun against a tree and lost his staff, then slid down a slope to a shallow puddle of water from the previous night’s rain.
Tatiana parried a series of attacks. Rem held his at bay. They attacked as though they had a personal vengeance against the group. “Great gods! What are they after?” Rem grumbled.
Tuke managed to draw his mace as one bashed his chest. He fell against the tree under Seeker. “Tuke,” she whispered and readied to pounce with her long daggers.
Lehoneh and his brethren recovered quicker than the Orks expected. They beat them back. An Elf fell taking an Ork with him. The sub-commander Ork noticed the tied turning, then flung Mirehnah over his shoulder and made his escape.
Lehoneh, on his belly quickly drew his dagger and blindly swung behind him repeatedly. The Ork tried to smash the Elf’s head with his hammer. Lehoneh managed to stab his ribs twice puncturing a lung as he rolled. The Ork groaned, struggling to breathe, then fell over.
Seeker shifted her daggers in the Ork’s shoulders on Tuke’s attacker. She stabbed repeatedly and shifted her blades till he fell. Tuke recovered and swung his mace, striking the Ork’s face. He fell back with his skull split open.
More charge Rem and Tatiana, outnumbering them two to one. Dregous felt the cold water splash his face and the pain in his head. The battle sounded in the distance as a woman spoke to him. He wondered if it was the witch or the pale likeness of his mother. “Dregous, if you allow yourself to love her, she will die. Please my son, let her go and she will follow her destiny,” said the lovely voice.
“But… I love her,” he moaned.
“She will die this day unless you change.”
Broken-hearted and filled with vengeful anger, “No!” he groaned. No one heard him over the clashing weapons.
He opened his eyes and noticed the pale likeness of his mother standing before him. “Dear sweet Dregous, do not do this… if you love her, let her go,” she faded. He saw many Orks, too many to count. The mage teetered on his hands and knees as he
reached for his wand.
He straightened on his knees pointed the device at the charging Orks. Dregous thought he heard the cackling of the undead witch in the distant forest. “Ti, fa dochah fah toddah!” Dregous hissed at the heavens then uttered the command word, “fimna,” the steam screamed its way out. To his left, he saw more Orks. He repeated the command, guilt filled him as the power of the wand cooked them alive. The screams of the dying echoed in his mind.
The Ork commander watched the battle when he heard the roaring steam followed by a symphony of wails. He immediately realized it was the mage. The spellcaster had to die before his troops fall, then drew his weapon and charged.
A quick glance and Dregous saw the Ork as his wand finished expelling the steam. He realized in that moment, his magical defense was depleted. It happened so fast and didn’t think. He reacted by trying to catch the hammer’s handle and managed to break his wand while weakening the strike.
Dregous was slammed against the tree and onto the wet ground. His disorientation disrupted his dexterity. Idiot, I should have evaded, he thought, then consider playing dead, but his instinct guarded him against it. Instead, he rolled on his back on the cold muddy ground and cast a missile spell, striking the Ork’s forehead as he was preparing the killing blow.
The Ork stumbled back nursing his injury, then quickly glimpsed his hand. Seeing his blood enraged him and charged again. Dregous repeated the cast, two more missiles struck the Ork’s face spraying blood and small bits of flesh upon impact.
***
Tatiana pulled her sword out from the Orks’ mouth and realized she hasn’t seen or heard Dregous. “Dregous?” she called when she heard the frightful sound of the mist. “Oh, dear Ukko.”