by Ed Montalvo
They silenced when Mirehnah greeted her father. The king hugged her and sighed deeply knowing she was safe. Then inquired of the Dark Elf that rescued her.
The priestess joined them while they explained the events of their journey. She bowed gracefully addressing the Elven King. He asked her view of the Dark Elf. Her version held sway and decided to study the Drouwen. The Great Priestess took it further, sharing a bit of her vision, his sacrifice for the princess and the humans.
The priestess used her gift to counsel the king many times. She managed to convince him, Dregous wasn’t a threat. The empire wished him dead for reasons of their own.
***
Cha-chila and Chanti rushed through the narrow cavern maze. The priestess began to lag. The thought of her personal servant’s betrayal shattered her spirit. Chanti noticed Cha-chila falling behind. “Great lady, we must continue if we are to survive,” she whispered.
She nodded her agreement. They started running, moments later she slowed again. Her betrayal deeply wounded Cha’chila and stopped to lean her forehead against the cool cave wall clasping her chest. The priestess hated herself for feeling so weak. How could I have not seen a single clue of her treachery, she thought.
“Great lady!” Chanti hissed.
She shook her head, “I failed to grasp her betrayal,” a few tears tracked her cheeks.
“Do not allow her treachery to defeat you,” she advised.
The priestess rolled her words over in her mind, “Of course not…” she breathed. Cha-chila was forced to admit her longtime friend was correct. “We must find the prince.” And pray he will not turn his fury upon us, she thought.
The prospect of finding the prince made her heart skip with a tinge of fear. “He will destroy us… your words.”
“We have little choice now,” she reasoned. Chanti considered her rebuttal. “Pray he destroys those responsible and spare our beloved empire,” the priestess continued.
“Agreed.”
Cha’chila straightened, “If he does destroy it, it would only be what we know… mayhaps,” she hoped.
The thought of the priestess’s vision and the power the hatchling Prince would have, frightened her to where she barely was able to suppress a shutter, “First, Great Lady, we must survive?” she managed.
“Agreed,” when the sudden thought of her acolyte assistant and lover, she knows her visions, “The death of his house would bring him home only for revenge.” His journey to the surface would grieve him most. He will blame them for the fall of his house. I Pray when it is all over, he would aid us in restoring our empress to her throne, she hoped.
***
Urilah was not pleased. Days passed and still no sign of the missing units. The last messenger brought unfortunate news of the legendary Von’negrous training scrolls. Witness account states the Duke past them to a young knight. They believe the knight’s name is Hogah. “The missing unit must have them!”
“Of course they do. Why else would they be missing,” Chadzi snapped harshly. There was no one in the throne chamber. In the presence of others, she treated Urilah accordingly.
“But where?”
“That should be obvious Urilah, they search for their prince,” she replied.
“Now it is a race to see who finds him first,” she surmised.
“Unbelievable…” Chadzi muttered aloud.
The empress glanced at her, “I do not understand?”
The acolyte rolled her eyes, “You are as witted as a flee. That bastard Dorian planned this.”
Urilah considered her with an arched brow, “Forgive me?”
Chadzi faced her, ignoring her comment, “Regardless how the empire feels about him, his house was the most powerful… and led by a powerful male.”
“The keyword is, was,” Urilah said with smug satisfaction.
“Even so, he accomplished more in this life, than you could have in many lifetimes,” she said. It was humiliating being compared to a male. Chadzi paced, wondering how the rogue knights will contact Dregous. Once they are all on the surface, it would be extremely difficult to locate them. And if they knew the general location of the rogue, they will surely contact him. Perhaps plan their revenge, she thought.
***
Metal clanged and the smell of boiled mushrooms and other culinary aromas fill the cells near the galleys. A guard escorted her through the corridors, “Before you are sent to the kitchens you must be bathed,” one said. She was pretty and of average height with inky black long slender toned limbs. Her silvery-white hair was tangled and dirty. The guard led her to the bath. She undressed, signs of bruises covered her as he stepped back. The dispossessed empress stepped into the hot tub. The heat soothed her soreness.
He admired her curvy figure. She obeyed without question. It was the first time he has seen a submissive servant that wasn’t a plaything.
The empress glanced at the guard expecting him to beat her like the others. She was grateful they removed her from the prison. “I hear you served the former empress,” he commented.
Tha’taliah remained silent and realized he was familiar to her, his tone, his voice, and mannerism. She glanced over her shoulder and recalled who he was. He was one of her guards in training for the imperial service. The empress wondered about his betrayal. The question of her position as an empress came to mind. Was she truly disliked? Lost in thought she cupped water onto her face and hair. Moments later she stepped out onto the wet surface and slipped on the smooth stone. With a quick motion, he caught her. His firm embrace was a strong reminder of pleasurable moments with him and a false sense of security. “Gratitude, kie’leit,” she said habitually.
The phrase caught him off guard and arched a brow, “What did you say?” She withdrew and realized how she addressed him and expected his denouncement. He would most likely fall back into favor with the new empress for discovering the empress. The servant’s reaction to his question bothered him, “I beat no one…,” he thought that was her concern. “…but you must re…” he paused a moment and recalled the empress addressing her Jr. knights as little knights. He gently turned her. She masterfully masked her eyes with false fear, then shied away. Something about this woman reminded him of the former Empress. The guard decided to address her, though knew he was reaching, “Empress?” he whispered.
Her eyes widened with alarm. She didn’t mean to give herself away and hoped to dissuade him, “If I were your empress, would I be your prisoner?” she asked.
He studied her eyes, the sound of her voice. It was the same, except for the face and body. His heart skipped at the thought of his empress still alive, “It is you.”
“I plead, elevate me not. I am a simple…”
He interrupted, “You are my great lady,” he whispered with caution as his eyes darted about ensuring secrecy.
“You are mistaken great Knight…”
The Drouwen guard glanced ensuring solitude, “Only my empress address’s us as her little knights. Your face is different, but your eyes and voice are the same.” She remained silent and wondered if he will turn her in. “Fates be praised you are safe,” he breathed.
The Empress bit back her elation he was still loyal. It was then the Jr. knight realized what she had endured. “What is your name my Kie’leit?”
“Ti’er of house De’tuos,” he answered. She tensed with fear. He was related to the house that stole her throne. “Fear not, you are my empress, regardless of the crown. I follow not my aunt.” She studied him as Ti’er continued to ensure their privacy. “I will look after you.” Her head hung low. “I will get you out of here. First, we must get you cleaned up and into the kitchens…, …oh,” he paused a moment, then readdressed her, “Umm, can you cook?”
With a slight shrug, she gave him a crooked smile, “No,”
He smirked, “Then I will teach you.”
Chapter 15
I know the power of loyalty firsthand. I also knew the court was displeased with my mother for appointing his lor
dship, the imperial Duke. I later learned she planned on bestowing him her consort, first to her in all affairs, but an assassin’s blade prevented her. When it came to me, I too was thwarted. When I regain my throne, his title will be officially inscribed on his stone.
Empress Tha’taliah’s lost journals.
“Blest queen of darkness I pray the empress goes undiscovered,” Chanti implored as they reached the lava caves maze. Small pits of bubbling fluids covered the porous stone floor. Sulfur and vapored minerals assaulted their senses and restricted their breathing. They hastened through the cavern, any delay may cause their deaths due to the mildly acidic vapors. Half a cycle breathing these fumes, and they will fall victim to its erosion.
They leaned on either side of the opening after passing the caustic catacombs. Cha-chila closed her eyes, concentrating on the throne room. She saw Chadzi stand beside Urilah on the throne. Then scanned the imperial palace, nothing. Forgive me your highness… I failed you, Cha-chila thought.
“Great lady?” Chanti gently nudged her.
Surprised, “Uh, I am well.”
The priestess’s tears stunned Chanti, “My lady?”
“I could not find our empress,” Cha’chila said. The mage’s heart pinged. She too looked back as well and couldn’t find her. “Chadzi stands beside our Empress’s throne….”
“That bitch soils it with her presence alone,” The mage hissed.
“I never would have thought she would…” and paused, then realized, “How long they brewed this conspiracy?”
“Does it matter?” Chanti glimpsed where they came from then ahead. “Do you know the secret path, Great lady?”
“I do.”
They faced each other then pushed off, “We need to protect our feet,” the mage began casting. When completed, they crossed the bubbling cavern.
They heard growling echoes behind them. The women glanced at one another. “Hell hounds,” Chanti breathed.
On rare occasions, the empire employs demonic hounds. They could track anything relentlessly. Their ember glowing eyes and throats frightened the sturdiest of Dark Elves. They dreuled a translucent feeble version of lava. “Dear darkness… Chanti, get behind me,” Cha’chila ordered, then immediately cast a spell at the opening. The air formed a small whirlwind. It sucked loose rocks and pebbles. The spell transformed the debris into chards and shifts.
When completed she cast another. Shortly after a mist formed to cover her wind blade spell. Then cast a third, to silence the whirlwind. When completed, all they saw was bubbling fluids. “With haste,” Cha’chila said.
They gingered through the molten pits. Upon the other side, they heard the beasts howl and wail from the trap. They imagined the chard and stone shredding their flesh.
Chanti glanced back at the distraction and accidentally stepped into a pocket of hot liquid. She screamed and tumbled to a larger pool. The enchantment only protected them from the general environment, not direct contact. Cha’chila grabbed and pulled her to safety in time. The skin from her ankle down peeled away.
Two hellhounds survived and continued for their prey. The molten pits hindered their progress. Their tongue’s dangled, transparent red saliva splattered smoldering on contact. Eerie yellow smoked eyes glowed with delight.
Cha’chila hurried to set Chanti down and began weaving a spell, “I summon the black death to do my bidding, hear me great darkness and take thine offering…, feed upon my foe!” she hissed quickly clapping her hands overhead, repeating the chant. An ominous light broke from between her palms. Beams of eerie grey light sprang forth to the first hound as she stretched out to the beast.
***
The magistrate paced to ease his nerves and wondered how to warn Dregous the Empire is hunting him, without exposing himself. “Oh, what tangled web we weave?” he whispered a Drouwen proverb. Then realized the irony, “How ironic,” he bobbed his head.
“Ironic my lord?” Cherie asked as she entered the room. She had no restriction in the mansion.
Ceron jumped in his seat and flipped his quill in the air fumbling to retrieve it, knocking over the ink well. The blotter clunked to the floor. She clasped her hands to her mouth surprised. He looked at her, “You startled the wits from me.”
She spoke through her fingers, mildly muffling her voice, “Forgive me…”
Her nervous expression softened him and eased his current worries. He waved her over. The thought of his Drouwens visitor was concerning, “Come,” he padded his thighs.
She noticed a difference in him as she took his lap, “What troubles you my lord?”
Her warmth soothed him as he padded her knee. “All is well. Why do you ask?”
“Well my lord, you always throw me on the bed then pin me…,” she blushed. “…to feel your enormous thing swell,” she grinned.
He gave her a warm smile, “Not this day my dear. I must tell a friend something that may irrevocably ruin our delicate friendship.”
She knew something was bothering the magistrate the past couple of days. His dreary tone only confirmed her suspicion, “I will leave you my lord. If you wish, I will return later,” then exited his chamber.
Ceron pondered for a short while, then wrapped his cloak and rushed downstairs and out the door. He made his way to the knight’s sanctuary, winding his way through the crowd and wagon traffic. Lord Gunthar was walking toward the temple. “My lord!” Ceron called. Gunthar glanced over, “Lord Gunthar,” he repeated.
Gunthar turned to see who called when he spotted Ceron, “Magistrate, good day.”
“Good day to you dear Gunthar,” as he approached. “And how are you this fine day? Oh, any word of Wil’s assailant?”
Wil’s murder was a bitterness that ailed him. He wasn’t any closer to resolving his case. “It was good until you mentioned him.”
“Oh, forgive me dear friend, apologies. I meant no ill.”
“No no, apologies not required. The matter has plagued me since its conception. I attempt a positive outlook. What may I do for you?”
“I wish words with you?”
“Certainly.”
Ceron scanned the streets, “A more suitable setting?”
“Certainly, will my office do?”
“Of course of course, that will do most nicely.”
They headed to Gunthar’s office. They passed the training grounds were the knights practiced. Some with swords and shields, others with steeds and lances.
Gunthar opened the door and ushered in the portly magistrate. “To what do I owe this honor?” then closed the door.
Ceron approached the large desk, “May I?” he gestured to a plush chair. Lord Gunthar nodded as the magistrate sat.
“You intrigue me,” Gunthar confessed.
“Intrigue? A curious word…” he paused. The old knight’s guts turned, but held his silence, “Curious word,” Ceron repeated then looked at Gunthar. “Do you not agree?”
“Aye, it is,” the old knight slightly arched a brow. Though he confessed to himself, he had no clue what Ceron was talking about.
“Would you say we are friends…? I for one would certainly like to think so.”
“Friends?” his curiosity piqued, “Why ask such a question… …Of course, we are,” Gunthar assured.
Gunthar’s confession set well with the magistrate. He was always fond of the old knight, “You are oblivious how agreeable that is with me.”
“Come Ceron, out with it, what ails you.”
“Before I answer, allow me this… would you say I have been a good magistrate… or governed the people well?”
Gunthar circled his desk while nodding, “I believe you have done well. Granted you and I see things differently and I may find your methods odd at best, but at the end of the day, you have done well. So, yes I believe you are a good magistrate,” he sat behind his desk, “Why the question…? I must say, this is the first time I see you uncertain.”
“What I must share may alter that judgment.”
; “Ceron…, you worry me.”
“You remember Henry, my servant?”
Gunthar studied him thoughtfully, “Vaguely, why?”
Ceron’s face grew expressionless, he was backed to a corner, “Henry will always be better than us…”
His comment perplexed him, “Hmm, explain.”
“He is dead,” he glimpsed the floor.
Gunthar’s face grew pale. “How…?” then he breathed, “Did you…”
He expected this reaction, “Heavens no Gunthar… he was my friend…, though, I might as well have done it, since his death was because of me.”
“Explain,” he ordered gently and leaned forward on his desk. Ceron clarified the Drouwen female’s enlistment of him to find Dregous and the threats they made. He confessed the females’ ability to sense deceptions. Ceron spoke truthfully. His servants would pay for his deceptions.
***
As Seeker stepped to Dregous and Tatiana, she felt the sudden grim darkness. Dregous and Tatiana felt oppressed. “Um, do you….”
Tatiana interrupted, “Feel it…,” she glanced around with an uneasiness, “I do….” then looked between the Drouwens.
“As do I,” Dregous scanned the room, “Where is Rem?” he tried shielding himself from the oppression that somehow followed them.
“By the lords of…” she stopped herself, realizing her phrase, “Umm, I was going to ask you, before…”
Tatiana interrupted, “Before what?”
“Before this… thing sidetracked me,” Seeker continued scanning, then chinned the Half-Elf.
“What about him?” the princess asked. Dregous awaited her explanation.
Angelique briefly described what she noticed and thought nothing of it at first. He looked frightened in the presence of the high priestess. “What impressed you so?” Dregous asked.
Seeker’s eyes raised slightly, “When have you known Rem to behave fearful for no reason? Whiny perhaps.” They consider her observation.