Through the Dusty Gate

2004-11-10T17:29:00.002-08:00

Copyright 2004 Alessandra Kroger. All rights reserved.

Chapter One - The Plot

Chapter Two - War

Chapter Three - The Stone of the King

Chapter Four - Failure is Not an Option

Chapter Five - Of Saints and Storms

Chapter Six - Yoran and Riddles

Chapter Seven - Treachery?

Chapter Eight - Don't Frighten the Ligon

Chapter Nine - Sharp Words

Chapter Ten - The Fire Crackles

Chapter Eleven - An Unwanted Marriage

Chapter Twelve - Age of the True King

Chapter Thirteen - Duke to King

Chapter Fourteen - A Thrill of Hope

Chapter Fifteen - A Puppet King

Chapter Sixteen - One of the Varnhyme

Chapter Seventeen - Treasure

Chapter Eighteen - The Power of the Varnhyme

Chapter Nineteen - Fear of Power

Chapter Twenty - Faded Fading Into Light

Chapter Twenty One - True Joy?

Chapter Twenty Two - Red Ravens

Chapter Twenty Three - Through the Dusty Gate

Chapter Twenty Four - Is There in Truth No Beauty?

Chapter Twenty Five - Mutual Thoughts

Chapter Twenty Six - Wit and Wisdom

Chatper Twenty Seven - The Battle Begins

Chapter Twenty Eight - The True King

Chapter Twenty Nine - Showdown

Chapter Thirty - The Bittersweet

Chapter Thirty One - True Love

Chapter Thirty Two - Epilogue

Chapter Twenty Four - Is There in Truth No Beauty?

2004-11-08T18:02:00.000-08:00

The two newcomers to the table talked and laughed loudly like the rest of the people who frequented the Red Raven. At long last one of them stood up, bowed to the three sitting down, and with a hearty clap to his friend’s back, he flipped the mug towards the bartender and strode off laughing heartily.

A few minutes later the two men in hoods excused themselves and paying the bartender quickly walked out into the streets of Aiulindale. They did not see the other man leave the Red Raven after them, nor did they see the first man waiting in the shadows. The two men threw off their cloaks and revealed their uniforms.

“Ready to go Flager?” asked the first one, drawing his sword quietly.
“As ready as I can be, Joynse,” said the second one, doing likewise.
“Let’s go then, down that street I believe.”

With a nod Flager followed Joynse down the street that Joynse had been pointing too. The road led down to an area of Aiulindale that was clearly where the lower classes lived. Flager nodded towards a small clearing over a little ways on the right. With a nod of acknowledgement, Joynse headed over towards the clearing, moving slowly and staying in the shadows. Both of the men took care not to make any sound. They stopped at the corner of a building on the edge of the clearing, and Joynse peered around to see if anyone was there.

He stopped in shock as he glanced at the scene that met his eyes. Two men in capes were standing in one corner of the clearing, one of them was pinning the shoulders of a girl to the wall as the other unsheathed his dagger. The dagger glittered in the fading sunlight, the design on the handle and the shape of the blade clearly showing it was mad in the Seventeens. The man holding the girl pinned her shoulders to the wall more harshly and the man with the dagger jerked her head back. As he raised his arm and prepared to slit her throat, he screamed in pain as blood pooled over the back of his cloak.

Flager had reacted instantly and thrown his dagger into the back of the man. The man holding the girl took one look over at Flager and ran. But Joynse was waiting. With a flash and a loud clang of steel against steel, Joynse and the man brought their swords clashing together. Joynse attacked, and the man parried. Then the man attacked and Joynse had to parry. The two went back and forth, back and forth, until at last Joynse resulted to a Slendarian twist and knocked the man over. Not wasting his opportunity, he plunged the sword into the man’s heart, just as Flager returned from releasing the girl from her bonds. With a few words of assurance to the girl, who appeared to be named Cindy, they returned to the palace to report to King Eldor.

“I will take first watch tonight,” Edmund said simply.

The others agreed without protest, but Kathryn wondered. She wondered why he had been so quick to volunteer for the first watch. Would he be abandoning them? No. It was not fair. He could not just leave them. He could not just go and give himself up to the Duke. He had to do something. Fight, resist, something. I do not care what it is he does, but he can’t just give in like that. Stop it, you are being selfish. I do not care! Why do you want him to stay? I am scared. You, who talked about courage, are scared? I can not take responsibility for everyone. How can I do this? Stop it. Stop it now. You can not keep him from his destiny. The world will still revolve, life will still go on, the sun will continue to rise and to set. Let life work out its own course, just follow the road in front of you, looking neither to the left or to the right.

She woke up to the sound of Mara letting out a roar. Yoran stood in front of Mara leaning on his embroidery needle. Klicati arched her back nearby as she listened to the conversation between Yoran and Mara.

“What is going on?” asked Kathryn quickly. “What is happening?”
“Master Edmund has left,” Yoran said turning to her with a bow.
“He should not have gone,” hissed Mara stomping her foot in anger. “He has betrayed us all.”
“He has not betrayed us,” cried Jessica.
“Jessica, please, calm down,” said Kathryn quietly. “Mara, it is alright. Edmund has not betrayed us. He has gone to Ge’irdae.”
“Then he has indeed betrayed us,” Mara responded angrily. “I saw Ge’irdae when we were flying, and it is under the possession of the Duke. I do not know what plans of treachery you have wanted me for, but I will not be part of them.”
“Mara, no! You do not understand. The Duke is looking for Edmund. He has gone to give himself up.”
“Likely story,” muttered Mara.
“Kat, no, he could not. He would not. Why do you say such things?”
“He could, Jessica, and yes, he would. I say it because it is true. He wants to save us. The Duke wants him, and the Duke would not care about the rest of us. We would be in danger as long as we were with Edmund. Do you not understand?”
“I do not understand. How can you agree with it?”
“I do not agree with it!” Kathryn cried.

Then she sat down and buried her face in her hands, trying not to cry. She was angry with Edmund for leaving them without even saying good bye, and even more angry with herself for being so selfish. Life was not fair. She did not see Mara take off in anger, breathing smoke and fire. She did not see Yoran walk away and turn his back to the others. She did not see her sister turn her back on Kathryn, and sit on the ground herself.

“Stop worrying,” said Klicati archly from where she lay, preening her self, and licking her paws. “Mara will return. She just has a temper to match her spirit.”

Truth has a sly sort of way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it, coming to face you head on. We can never be fully ready for it. In time, perhaps, we will be ready to see it. But can we truly understand it before we are ready? Her own words came back to her, and her eyes seemed to be opened. True, she could now see physically but this was something different. Maybe she was not ready for the truth. Maybe she was, and she had been blindly ignoring it as it knocked on her door. Memories of the Prophecy that Heather the Sage had spoken came flooding into her mind:

Faded fading into light
Daytime springing out of night
Ligon’s breath and heated flame,
Showing truth of monarch’s name.
When fireproof are eyeless folk,
Into dark the fire broke.

Showing truth of monarch’s name. That line jumped out at her, fiercely glowing bright, almost as bright as the fire of the Ligon. She wondered, and thought. Eldor, was he not then the true king? Was there then another, the true monarch of Elenaesia? It could not be Orlando DiCaprio, of that she was sure of. But who, and why?

She was startled out of her reverie as the familiar flap flap of Mara’s giant wings was heard. She looked up and saw the brilliant ruby of a ligon circling in the sky, coming to land. Her face seemed anxious as she hurried towards them.

“Come quickly,” Mara snapped at the four who were watching her with curious expressions. “Come, if we are to rescue Edmund. He has been captured, and if we are to rescue him, we must go now.”

Edmund walked up towards the city of Ge’irdae. He noticed that the thick stone wall no longer surrounded it, but lay crumbled on the ground, leaving only the inner wall standing.

“Ho there, lad!” cried the man on top of the watch tower. “Who goes there?”
“I am Edmund, squire to Sir Paulo, chief Knight of the Eleven!” Edmund called up.
“What is your business in DiCaprio?”

So, Edmund mused to himself, he has already gone so far as to change the name of the city. This was interesting.

“I come in peace to Ge’irdae!” he answered.
“Ge’irdae this is no longer. DiCaprio it is now, and shall always remain. Come inside and explain your errand to General Binks then.”
“I shall,” said Edmund.

As he entered past the gates, two large men in the uniform of the Seventeens grabbed him roughly and quickly disarmed him.

“I said I came in peace!” Edmund protested. “I am will go willingly with you to our general. There is no need to manhandle me! I will not struggle, I assure you.”
“We have no reason to believe that,” said one of them gruffly.
“Yeah, you can tell all this nonsense to the General when you see him.”
“That is enough,” said an even larger man, coming towards them. “My lord General Binks has told me to take the squire to him. I hear and obey. I will do the will of my lord General Binks. You will leave him alone. Give me his weapons.”

The others were silenced immediately, and handed over Edmund’s weapons quickly. They also handed over a small stone that they had found on Edmund. The man nodded to Edmund and the squire followed him without protest.

Chapter Eighteen - The Power of the Varnhyme

2004-11-08T17:37:00.000-08:00

The high tower in the middle of the city, the tower that set Ge’irdae apart from all the other cities and towns in Elenaesia, rose high into the sky, a lone star seeming to be perched at the edge of the bulwarks. All was silent, save the steady clip clop of the hooves of the horses and the muffled tramps of the soldiers’ feet. The sun had yet to set, but sat precariously on the edge of the horizon, waiting for the perfect moment to slip over the edge in a blaze of glory. Ge’irdae seemed quiet and peaceful, oblivious to the danger that was coming to their door step.

The army stopped near the gates of Ge’irdae. General Binks Vizzini paused in the saddle then turned his body back towards the rest of the army.

“Vladisk!” he called.
“Yes, my lord General Binks? What is your wish, General Binks?” the huge man asked.
“Vladisk, send for Draziw. And quickly! You hear?”
“Yes, General Binks. To hear is to obey.”

Then Vladisk rode towards the back to summon the old wizard and alchemist. Within a few minutes both had returned. Binks turned impatiently to them.

“Took you long enough. I thought I said quickly, Vladisk!”
“Yes, my lord General. I am sorry I did not go quick enough, General Binks.”
“Sorry is not going to cut it.” He sighed, and turned to Draziw. “Well, do you think you can take care of the city?”
“Do you doubt a Varnhyme?” asked Draziw in a low, and dangerous, voice.
“I have never seen them in action. I believe what I see, old man.”
“The Varnhyme are ancient, and have much power. Do you doubt that?”
“I told you, I have never seen them in action. A hokey religion is nothing, compared the type of war I can wage under King Orlando. If it works, good, if not, the sword.”
“Your confidence is disheartening for the soul to hear, Binks. Perhaps, in time, your lack of faith will soon be remedied. You are over confident in the ability of your army. That will prove to be your weakness. And that is why I have come with you, Binks. Beware now, the wrath of Draziw Varnhyme will be poured out upon the city of Ge’irdae! Tremble all who lie in the wake! Tremble all who dare to cross my path! The wrath of Draziw Varnhyme has been awakened, and shall not sleep until loosed upon its intended victims!”

With these words Draziw dismounted from his horse, and walked a little ways a way in front of him. He raised his arms, the midnight blue sleeves of his robes, falling back a little, his eyes glowing a brilliant emerald green as his skin turned pale. Uttering a cry in a tongue not known by those gathered round, he raised his head to the heavens.

“Gates of Ge’irdae, listen to my voice!” he began again, this time not in the ancient tongue. “Gates of Ge’irdae, hearken unto my cry! Gates of Ge’irdae, be filled with sounds I speak! Hearken to me, listen to me, pay attention to the sounds I voice! Be filled with my knowledge, be filled with the words I utter. Be filled, and be empty. Be on your guard, and be unprepared. Be patient, and be impatient. Be fulfilled, and be unfinished. Hearken to my cry, o gates of the city! Listen to my voice, o gates of Ge’irdae! Be filled with the words I speak unto you, and in that knowledge, despair! Return to the rubble from which you were raised, return to the dust that from which you were formed, return to the stone that you once were. Return, and fall to the grown, a hopeless heap, unhindered by agasyn which holds you together. Fall, and be destroyed. Gates of Ge’irdae, listen to my voice! Gates of Ge’irdae, hearken unto my cry! Gates of Ge’irdae, be filled with the sounds I speak! Hearken to me, listen to me, pay attention to the sounds I voice!”

Then, with a loud crack, a lone sound echoing through the valley, a harsh boom in comparison to the seemingly melodic voice used by Draziw of the Varnhyme, tiny cracks formed along the walls of the city. Each crack grew larger, spreading like a spider spinning it’s web, each crack joining with another one, each crack growing larger and longer. Then, with a deafening crash, even louder than the crack before, the walls tumbled down to the ground. The outer walls of Ge’irdae were now reduced to a heap of rubble and dust.

Draziw lowered his arms, and his skin resumed his usual colour. The strange emerald glow of his eyes faded, leaving them the blue they had been before.

Cynthia slipped through the night, hoping to be able to reach Aiulindale the next day. Because she was a Varnhyme, she was able to travel much easier, now that she did not have to exert more strength to preventing others from realizing that she was one of the Varnhyme. As she arrived at the top of a small hill, she paused to look down. There, below her, lay a quiet army camp, blending in to the night.

Her eyes glowed their emerald green again, and shone in the dark of the night. The small camp grew in size, and she focused her attention on the small pennant that bore the standard of the army. The objects around it swirled, and grew in size as she examined the standard. There, she saw the blue liliock of Elenaesia, it’s pale green leaves gently unfolding on the white background. And under it in golden script, the writing of the ancient language, Elbrenhine Valera, a Redith Marucheva. Elbrenhine our Queen, Guide Us By Your Hand. Her eyes returned to their normal hazel, and the scene in front of her spun as it shrank back into the harshness of reality. Continuing on down the hill, she headed towards the camp.

“Who goes there?” called the sentinel at the edge of the camp.
“My name is Cynthia, I must speak with the general in charge,” she said, her voice floating over the wind.
“Why?” came the answer sharply.
“I come from Merisna, I must speak with him concerning the Duke. Who is on a rampage killing innocents throughout the Seventeens. The live of the Princess is at stake here!”

The sentinel frowned. Most did not threaten the princess, it was usually the king or queen. Suddenly another figure emerged from the shadows.

“You may come with me lady. I am Sir Taran. Follow me, please.”

Sir Taran led Cynthia to a tent in the middle area of the camp. Nodding to the young squire who stood outside, the boy then pulled the flap, allowing the two to enter. Then Taran bowed, and left the tent, leaving Cynthia facing . . . the king.

“Please sit down, lady,” said Eldor. “I am Eldor, King of Elenaesia, as you no doubt know.”
“Yes, my lord king. I am Cynthia . . . Varnhyme.”

The eyes of the King narrowed as he looked at her closely. “You would be wise, Valerahyme, to not speak such things aloud. But what is it that brings you here? You said something about the safety of my daughter.”

Chapter Five - Of Saints and Storms

2004-11-08T17:29:00.012-08:00

“How am I to ride?” protested Kathryn. “I can’t see to guide my horse.”
“You told me,” Edmund said slowly, “that you wouldn’t let your blindness make you oblivious to the outside world, and you told me that your blindness was only in your eyes.”
“Indeed, but I must see to ride.”
“You don’t need to. I know the perfect horse for you. Liliock.”
Kathryn smiled. “After the liliocks in the garden.”
“Yes. She is gentle, and she follows when she is told. She’ll be perfect for you. But, how to teach you how to ride . . .”
“I’ve ridden before. When I was younger. But, I don’t know how to guide and direct my horse.”
“That’s not a problem,” came the answer. “As long as you can sit on her back, you’ll be fine.”
“Very well,” she said.

Edmund helped Kathryn practice riding that afternoon. They would be leaving the next morning. Apparently Jessica had told her aunt that they would be going on a journey to the Amandu Mountains. Lady Genevieve most likely thought they were going to the shrine of St. Leo, which was located in the lower foothills by the Gladen Forest.

The next morning dawned with a crisp cool feeling to the air. Edmund had already had the horses saddled and bridled and their supplies strapped on by the time Jessica led her older sister to the stables.

Kathryn looked more beautiful today than any other day. She wore a pale blue velvet dress and a white veil on her hair. Her grey eyes seemed to have a bit of light in their dullness. Before mounting, with the help of her sister and Edmund, she wrapped a blue cape around her shoulders, for the air was rather chilly. Once Kathryn was mounted, the three rode out, Liliock following Edmund’s lead obediently, with Jessica bringing up the rear.

~~~~~~~~

“By Ophelia’s nightgown!” cried Binks Vizzini.

Hayden Potter stared at Binks in surprise. Despite Potter’s desperate desire to rid Elenaesia of Eldor, and his hatred of those allied with the king, he still held the saints in awe. It had never occurred to him that one might speak lightly of such things.

“Binks!” he cried. “Do not tarnish Saint Opehlia’s name! It . . .” he paused, “It is not good to tempt the Saints. I have heard of terrible things . . . they say that when one man swore a curse in the name of Saint Leo, death was exacted on him by the heavens! Do you wish the same to you?”
Binks scoffed. “I would not worry about such things, Potter,” he said demeaningly. “Do you really worry about the Saints?”
“Do you even know the story of St. Ophelia’s nightgown?” asked Potter.
“Should I?” asked Binks gruffly.
“Here, let me tell you,” said Potter.
“Fine. I don’t have anything better to do right now, until the Duke comes back from the meeting with Draziw. I never trusted him anyways. But, I guess you can tell it to me.”
“One day, St. Ophelia, towards the end of her life, was in need of escaping from a wayward knight. She had no clothing that was not too bright, for it was snowing outside, and she did not want to be seen easily. Beginning to pray, and desperately hoping that aid would come, she saw a hand reach down from the heavens. In it was a pale white nightgown. She heard a voice speak to her and say, ‘Ophelia, truly you are one of my faithful servants. Take this, thy nightgown and wear it as shield to protect you, my daughter.’ Ophelia, upon hearing these words, did so, and so escaped into the snow, and was not seen. After she died, a sick person, coming in to look upon the fair face of Ophelia, slipped and fell. As they fell they grabbed a hold of her nightgown, and were instantly healed. It was in such setting that full proof of her sainthood came about, and she was then canonized. The nightgown of St. Ophelia, of which you speak so lightly, is indeed a sacred object.”
“Pish posh,” said Binks. “Sacred nonsense. It’s just a bunch of mumbo jumbo, old wives tales, and myths all jumbled into one thing. Looks like that Draziw is done with the Duke, finally. Let’s get going.”

~~~~~~~~~

The Amandu Mountains rose into the sky, their dark colours standing out against the pale blue of the skies. Edmund, Kathryn, and Jessica had ridden on a fairly straight path due north-west of Eirtue. Jessica glanced up at the towering mountains and wondered how they would find the Stone of the King.

As they rode into the mountains, Jessica’s thoughts turned to the tales and legends of the Bears. No, they were not regular bears, but they were Bears. They were intelligent, at least somewhat, and they were deadly. Very few had survived a fight against them. She hoped that they would not have to face them. The stories she had read amongst the scrolls in Aiulindale when she was there had made an impression on her. She hoped, if only for her sister’s sake, not to meet these Bears.

Edmund began describing the mountains to Kathryn, who was pleased that someone was willing to do so. Jessica added in descriptions here and there, causing much laughter amongst the trio. They rode along, listening to the birds in the woods. Looking up, Edmund saw dark clouds rolling in, covering the sun. The mountains seemed to darken, and the air grew colder.

He said nothing, hoping to reach some sort of shelter before the rain that he knew was coming came. But, as they were riding, they heard a roll of thunder, and then a loud clap. Edmund and Jessica looked up to see a huge bolt of lightening flash across the sky. And then, without further ado or warning, the rain came down in torrents.

“We must find shelter,” called Jessica through the sounds of the howling wind and the rain beating upon the ground and the occasional roar of thunder overhead.
“I know,” Edmund called back. “Take Lady Kathryn’s horse by the bridle, if you can. I had not expected such rain. I knew it would, but I was hoping we would reach shelter by then. We must ride hard. I will look for a place where can stop.”
“Agreed,” came Jessica’s response. She pulled her cloak and hood closer to her body, and rode over towards her sister. Leaning over, she caught Liliock’s bridle in her hand. “I’ve got the bridle!”
“Follow me!” Edmund cried. “I see an overhang up ahead where we can stop. It will provide us with some shelter from the storm!”
The three rode towards the overhang, their heads bowed in the storm. The wind continued to whistle and howl overhead, and the rain made no sign of relenting. Edmund helped Kathryn off her horse, and gave Jessica instructions to get her under the overhang. Then Jessica returned and helped Edmund unload the supplies from the horses and carry them over to the small shelter area. Once the supplies had been taken off the horses, the two worked together to tie the horses to a tree positioned near the overhang. Edmund commented to Jessica on the placing of the trees near the overhang. It provided them some fairly decent shelter.

Chapter Four - Failure is Not an Option

2004-11-08T17:29:00.011-08:00

Draziw muttered to himself in some ancient language. Why wouldn’t the stupid potion work? He was the best alchemist in the land; he should be able to come up with something. He sighed and continued working. Maybe he had the wrong ratio. Then he laughed. He, Draziw, Elenaesia’s best alchemist, have the wrong ratio? What could be more amusing than that? The best make a mistake? That was impossible! It was preposterous! Of all the crazy ideas that plagued the world, that had to be the craziest. He was perfection. And how could perfection make a mistake? It must be a problem with the elements. They must not be pure. Thus, Draziw set to work on purifying the elements and experimenting with new ratios.

~~~~~~~~

Edmund and Jessica, leading Kathryn, entered the castle and made their way to the great hall. There they saw Sir Rupert sitting on a bench, with several of the pages gathered around him. As they came closer they heard him telling tales of his former adventures.

“At that point, we realized that any attempt to face down the Ligon was futile,” he continued.
“Why was it futile?” asked a young page.
“Well, Bob,” replied Sir Rupert, “Have you ever faced a Ligon?”
“My name’s not Bob,” interrupted the page, “its William.”
“I’m sorry, William,” the old man said, “My memory fails me when it comes to names. Anyway, have you ever faced a Ligon? I didn’t think so.”
“What is a Ligon?” asked another page.
“A Ligon is half lion, half dragon, Bob.”
“I’m not Bob either,” muttered the second page under his breath. “What is a lion, and what is a dragon?”
“Oh, they don’t live in these parts,” explained the knight. “A lion is like a large cat. A dragon is a scaled beast with wings.”
“Where do they live?”
“Have you ever seen lions or dragons?”

The questions came as quickly as arrows from a string. He didn’t answer their questions however, for he noticed the trio moving towards him. He looked up at them and waited patiently for them to begin to speak. Kathryn began, after hearing the other two clearing their throats, and not saying anything.

“Sir Rupert?” she asked.
“Yes, Lady Kat?” he replied, smiling at the girl.
“Do you know about the Stone of the King?”
“Indeed, Lady, I do. But what do you wish to know about it? The entire history is long, and I do not believe that you want to hear the whole thing.”
“No,” she said with a smile. “But, do you possibly know where it is? What happened to it?”
“It was lost almost three hundred years ago. They say it is in the Amandu Mountains. And indeed, I have seen signs that it is there.”
“Do you know where in the Amandu Mountains it is?” she asked.
He shook his head sadly. “No, I’m afraid I do not know where it is. But, it is there, I believe. According to signs I have seen it is.”
“Thank you,” Kathryn barely whispered. “Thank you.” She could hardly believe it. They were going to find the Stone of the King. They were going to bring this battle to an end; they were going to prove Eldor was the king. She felt encouraged, and she felt brave. She was not going to dismiss this as wishful thinking. Once she made up her mind, it was made up. They were going.

~~~~~~~~

Bonjon looked around him in fright. He glanced at the pool of water, and up at the birds circling in the sky. Then, he saw the Duke. Orland DiCaprio stood there, arms crossed, looking sternly at him. He sighed. He knew he was done for. Why, oh why did he make that STUPID mistake? He was going to die. And as he heard the calls of the birds above, he knew how it would be. Death by drowning or by the slow pecking of the Nazir birds. Whichever he decided, it was not going to be nice.

The guards led him in chains to face the Duke. He could not bring himself to look his lord in the face. He had failed. And there was no forgiveness. Not from the Duke of the Seventeens.

“You know you’re wrongdoing,” the Duke said, not a trace of emotion in his voice.
“Yes, m’lord.”
“You know the penalty.”
“Yes, m’lord.”
“You will pay that penalty.”
“Yes, m’lord.”

Then the Duke turned and cried to all gathered. “So let it be written, so let it be done! So be it!”

The guards took Bonjon over toward the pool. They took off his chains and then him in. He felt the water closing in rapidly and hastened to push himself to the surface. There he saw the Duke and his men leaving. They did not need to stay and watch; they knew, as did all in Elenaesia, that once someone was thrown into the Nazir Pool, they did not come back alive.

Then, he saw the birds diving towards him. He closed his eyes, but they kept coming. He felt their beaks peck at his flesh; he heard his own screams as he felt it. What could he do? Stay here and let them eat away at his body? Finally, mustering all his courage, he went back underwater. He couldn’t stay underwater for long, and soon he found himself surfacing again. He felt the pecks again, as the birds resumed their attack. He felt his arms go up and start flailing, in a futile attempt to stave off the attacking birds. When he could not stand it any longer, he fell back underwater again. But it was not long before he came up, gasping for air. His strength was failing him, how could he keep this up?

The birds came diving at him again; he couldn’t stand it. He wanted to get away! His screams were futile; the birds were pecking at him above water, and underwater he could not breathe and his wounds cried out in agony.

The next morning, two knights under service of the king were sent to discover the fate of Bonjon. There was nothing but a few pieces of flesh left floating on the water. One of them turned to the other and grinned.
“Guess they didn’t like the taste of that.”
“Haha,” replied the other. “I don’t blame them.”
“Bones must have sunk. Our job's done then; he’s dead.”
“Yeah, let’s go back to camp.”

~~~~~~~~

Sir Paulo accompanied the King as they went to oversee the gathering of the army. There were, if he counted aright, five thousand men gathered here. But was it enough? They did not know the exact number of men the Duke had with him, and the Seventeens were indeed a good sized portion of Elenaesia. Soon all grew silent as King Eldor rode forward and prepared to speak. Out of the corner of his eye, Paulo saw Queen Raelle looking out from a window.

“My people!” cried the king. “A month from now, I intend to be back here in victory! The Duke of the Seventeens, Orlando DiCaprio, has challenged my kingship over you, and has attempted to attack our lands! He sent his men to attack our main commerce city of Ge’irdae. Fortunately, we were able to stop them before they could. We cannot allow this treachery to go on any longer. So, I say to you - let us ride to war against these traitors; let us put a stop to them! What say you?”
“To war!” came the deafening shout of the troops below. “To war!”
“So let it be written! So let it be done!” called the king, echoing the sacred words spoken when a major decision was made. According to Elenaesian tradition, only the king of Elenaesia had the right to speak those words. Another doing it could be considered as great a transgression as treason.
With a great shout, the host of Eldor, King of Elenaesia, rode out from Aiulindale, to meet Orlando DiCaprio, Duke of the Seventeens, in clean battle.

Chapter Three - The Stone of the King

2004-11-08T17:29:00.010-08:00

The next morning, encouraged by the events of the day before, Lady Kathryn consented to come down to breakfast. This time walking down the hallway was a bit easier than before, but they still took their time going down the staircase.

“Sometimes, I wonder,” Kathryn said.
“Yes?” asked the tall squire beside her. He looked down at her, dressed in a pale blue gown with a filmy white veil covering her hair. “What do you wonder?”

She only laughed, a light clear laugh like crystal. “Sometimes I just wonder. I wonder about wondering. I just, simply wonder.”

Later, as they were sitting in the garden and Edmund was describing the view from this direction, Kathryn heard the soft patter of slippers on the stone path. She turned her head to the sound of the feet. Edmund followed her and saw a young girl come in sight. Well, not that young, he decided, but younger than Lady Kathryn. She had blonde hair that was plaited in two braids, and she wore a pink and white dress. As she turned the corner she came straight towards Kathryn.
“Kat!” she cried.
“Jessica!” came the surprised response.
“Kat! What are you doing out here?”
“I came out for a change, at Edmund’s insistence.”
“Edmund?” Jessica asked in surprise.
“This is Edmund, next to me,” responded Kathryn. “He was assigned to be my guardian by Sir Uncle.”
“How do you do, Edmund?”
“How do you do?” came his response.
“This is my sister Jessica,” introduced Kathryn. “But, come, sister, I can tell by your voice there is more you came to say.”
“Civil war has broken out!” cried Jessica. “The Duke of the Seventeens has attacked.”
“What happened?” asked Edmund in astonishment.
“The Duke sent an army to attack Ge’irdae. The militia there found them before they could attack however.”
“The Duke?” queried Kathryn.
“Yes. The militia from Ge’irdae noticed they were from the Seventeens. That can only mean that the Duke has attacked. King Eldor has declared war.”
“I knew there was trouble with some towns,” said Edmund, “That’s why Sir Paulo left. But, war?”
“Yes,” nodded Jessica. “But that isn’t the only complication. The Duke sent King Eldor a message, challenging his right to the throne.”
“On what basis?” asked Edmund.
“On the basis he only has the torc, and does not have the Stone of the King.”
“But that’s preposterous! For what reason does that not give him the right to the throne?”
“The Duke says that since he does not have the Stone of the King, how can Eldor know it will shine with the Kingly Light for him, and if he does not know that, how can he be king?”
“And how does that support the Duke’s claim?” asked Kathryn.
“Simple. All the Duke does is convince everyone that King Eldor is not the rightful king. Then, he can take the throne under the pretense of holding it until the rightful king shows up. Since no one has the Stone of the King, no one will know who can make it shine with the Kingly Light, and thus, no one can know who the rightful king is.”
“Has anyone looked for the Stone of the King?” Kathryn said quietly.

The others turned to her in astonishment. Where would one even begin to look, let alone how would they find it? The Stone of the King had been missing for over three generations. Certainly there had been those who had considered looking for it. They had gone north, to the Drimvue Forest, and never been heard from again. Why they went there, no one knew, but one thing they did know. The Stone of the King had been missing for decades, for centuries, and no one knew where it was.

“No,” responded Edmund. “Why would they? What point would it serve? No one’s been able to do so; they’ve never returned. So, they’ve stopped looking.”
“We could try,” Kathryn said. “It may be the only way of preventing this war.”
“But how?” asked Jessica.
“Let us start by asking Sir Rupert.”
“Why would he know?” said Edmund.
“He knows a lot of things,” explained Jessica. “He’s been around for hundreds of years, and he’s ancient!”
“No he’s not,” protested Kathryn. “He has not been around for hundreds of years, and he is not ancient. He has travelled far, and in his travels he has acquired much in the way of knowledge.”
“Very well then,” conceded Edmund. “Let us ask him.”

~~~~~~~~

Binks Vizzini and Hayden Potter were standing around a map of Elenaesia together. They had been talking quietly and discussing the paths they were taking. It was a cold and windy morning, and they could hear the breeze whistling past as they spoke. Then Potter went out and glanced around. No one was in sight. He came back to Binks and motioned him to the back of the tent. Motioning for him to be silent, he spoke in a low whisper.

“Do you really want the Duke on the throne?” he asked Binks.
“If it’s a choice between the Duke and the King . . .”
“Why a choice between them? Could we not put someone of our own choosing on the throne?”
“What are you saying?” cried Binks.
“Hush!” came the response, along with a hand clapped over his comrade’s mouth. “Do you want all to hear?”
“What are you saying?” repeated Binks, in a lower voice.
“I’m saying that, if we win this war for the Duke, is it not possible we would have enough influence to set someone else on the throne?”
“It’s possible.”
“What do you think? Are you with me?”
“How do you expect me to give you an answer right now? Let me think on it.”
“Do so. But hurry, we don’t have a lot of time. If all goes well, we’ll have less than two months.”

The two parted their ways, but Potter felt some nagging worry. What if Binks told someone? And what if that someone told someone else? And so on and so forth until it reached the ears of the Duke? He was done for, that much he knew.

Chapter Two - War

2004-11-08T17:29:00.009-08:00

Dawn arose, the sun creeping over the hills, half-stealthily, half-boldly, as if it couldn’t make up its mind. The battalion under the command of Bonjon, lieutenant to Orlando DiCaprio, Duke of the Seventeens was already on the move. By the late afternoon they would arrive at Ge’irdae. Then, Bonjon would order the battalion into the woods, where they would hide until morning, and right at the crack of dawn the fight would begin.

He looked back at the battalion as the marched silently along, their brown hooded cloaks matching the brown leather wrapped around their swords and bows. Indeed, just by looking at them, one could know they were from the Seventeens. But it was what Duke DiCaprio wanted, and what he wanted, became law.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, Bonjon began to see the faint outline of Ge’irdae. It was the most important city next to Aiulindale outside of the Seventeens. Once they held it in their hands . . . Aiulindale would prove easier to capture. And then, one by one, they would tighten their grip, as more and more cities would come under DiCaprio’s power.
~~~~~~~~
Edmund described the weather and the view to Kathryn. He looked at her gentle face, looking towards his voice. It was brighter than yesterday, it seemed as if no one else would explain things to her. That thought encouraged him to describe in greater detail. Suddenly a thought came to him.
“Do you want to go down to the garden today?” he asked slowly, almost afraid she would think him rude. Instead, her face looked genuinely surprised.
“I have not been to the garden for many, many years,” she said quietly.
“Let me take you,” Edmund said eagerly. “Then I can describe the flowers to you. They are quite beautiful today.”
“Would you mind though?” she asked, her brow furrowed in worry. “I do not want to trouble you.”
“You could use some fresh air,” he said good-naturedly. Taking her arm, he gently guided her out the door and down the hall. When they came to the stairs, their pace slowed considerably, and he carefully helped her down step by step. Finally they reached the bottom, and made their way to the courtyard. Unlike the dreary day before that was graced with pouring rain, the sun was shining down upon them.

As they walked, old Sir Rupert looked down at them from his window. He watched two stroll through the gardens, the young squire directing the lady’s footsteps. He saw a smile on his lady’s face for the first time in over ten years. Her pale blue dress matched the liliocks that swayed in the light breeze. He watched Edmund help her to reach over and smell the flowers.

That evening Edmund convinced Kathryn to come down to the Great Hall and dine with them there rather than eat alone in her room. It took a little more convincing than walking in the garden needed, but in the end she agreed. As they ate, she told him a bit about the castle, and her family.

“It is my father’s, you know,” she said. “After he died, Sir Uncle moved in to take care of it. It is supposed to go to the eldest in the family, but, Lady Aunt does not believe that a girl can reign over a castle.”
“You are blind,” Edmund replied.
“Only in my eyes.”
“They have done it before,” the squire remembered.
“Indeed. And if that is so, why can I not? Ah well, I have no great love for ruling, and Sir Uncle and Lady Aunt have no other place to live. I am happy and contented here.”
~~~~~~~
Orlando DiCaprio slammed his fist down on the table in his tent. Bonjon stood before him, visibly shaking. Hayden Potter stood off to the side, and behind the Duke in a corner stood a man cloaked in a midnight blue cape and hood trimmed with silver.

“I send you on the easiest of missions,” hissed DiCaprio. “And this is what you give me in return! You cannot simply launch a simple attack on Ge’irdae? Ge’irdae! Of all places, you cannot launch an attack there. Instead, instead you return to me empty handed, with only news of being spotted before you were fully hidden. Now Eldor,” he practically spat the name of the king, “now Eldor has been alerted. He knows that someone is planning an uprising. And if the militia of Ge’irdae paid enough attention to you, the finger will be pointed to the Seventeens. As Duke I am held responsible. And if I do not crush those attacks . . .” he broke off, glaring at Bonjon.

“M’lord,” ventured Potter tentatively.
“What is it Potter? And quick too.”
“Perhaps, we can alter the plan. Send Binks and I on the sides, and you come up the middle. Attack Aiulindale at once, before the king has enough time to prepare. We still have the element of surprise on our side”
“Indeed,” DiCaprio said dryly. “Dismissed. Both of you. Leave.”

As they left he heaved a sigh. If all his commanders blundered like Bonjon had, even a dream would be pointless. He could never hold Elenaesia if he lost every battle. The words of Potter remained behind, hanging in the air, waiting for the nearest hook to catch it and wipe it from existence. DiCaprio stood for a bit, silently contemplating the plan laid by Potter. As he stood there, the cloaked figure stepped forward.

“Potter is right. Take Aiulindale, and you take the torc. Once you have the torc, find the stone. And then, we shall stake your claim. One which no one can argue, unless they wish to argue with Esaiel himself. For it is the power that Esaiel put into Elenaesia in the beginning that gives the stone its power. Let us take back this power, and do so correctly, so as not to loose a city through the cracks in our fist.”
“Must you always counsel me thus, Draziw?” DiCaprio asked shortly.
“Would you rather I withheld my counsel from you completely?”
“No.”
“Then do not waste breath on that which you do not mean.”
“Is this your complete plan, Draziw?”
“Am I ever that simple, m’lord? Indeed not. Come, sit, and I shall begin to explain to you the full workings of my plan. I cannot tell you all, for some may change depending on the reaction of our enemy.”
“Depending? How so?”
“Very simply, m’lord. How will they respond to the attack on Eirtue and Minelido? That would change my plan somewhat. Minor changes, that are designed to be flexible with the outcome of each battle. We will win this m’lord.”

DiCaprio sighed. This was not turning out the way he wanted. “Well? What is the plan?”
“Patience, m’lord,” responded Draziw. “All will be revealed in its own time. For now, prepare for your attacks on Eirtue and Minelido.”
“Am I running this war, or are you?” snapped DiCaprio.
“You are m’lord. You asked for advice, and I have only ever offered it.”
“Very well then. How soon until the potion is prepared?”
“I am still testing it, m’lord. However, I believe the ratio of ingredients should prove sufficient this time.”
“It better. In the meantime, carry out my orders concerning Bonjon. I do not like failure.”
~~~~~~~
Eldor, King of Elenaesia, paced in his chambers. His wife and queen, Raelle, watched him with her cat-like eyes. He had been pacing for at least an hour now. That was one of the differences between the two of them, he would get uptight about every little thing, yet she remained complacent.

“I don’t understand,” he cried, throwing his hands up in dismay. “Who could have done it? Thank goodness that the militia of Ge’irdae discovered them before they attacked. But if they had . . . what then?”
“Calm down, Eldor,” Raelle replied. “Screaming about it doesn’t help anything.”
“Yes, but what am I to do?”
“Find out who did it, what else?” cried his wife in exasperation. “Stand around and twiddle your thumbs? Think, my liege, think! For once in your life!”
“I KNOW who did it, thou persistant wife! Do you think I do not know? I received a message, complaining that I am ruling as a dictator. Tell me, my dearest Raelle, O thou of catty women,” here his wife glared, “am I a dictator? Some call me a benevolent dictator, but that is not like a dictator, is it?”
“Indeed,” she responded. “But a dictator is still a dictator nonetheless.”
“But am I one, O Queen?” He stopped pacing for a moment to wave the message in her face, and then resumed.
“If you were, I’m certain that someone else would be on the throne,” she responded coolly. “Now, who did it then, if you know?”
“I have received word from Ge’irdae that the men were dressed as the men in the service of the Duke do.”
“You believe they are from the Seventeens? Do you believe the Duke is behind this?”
“I know not what to believe!” Eldor cried again. “It is all too twisted, too underhanded, too . . . I don’t know what! But all the evidence points to the Duke and the Seventeens.”

He continued his pacing. Silence again enveloped the room. Finally, after what seemed like hours to his wife, though was in reality only a matter of minutes, he stopped, and seemed to calm down.

“This means but one thing, sweet Raelle. We are at war.”

Chapter Thirteen - Duke to King

2004-11-08T17:29:00.008-08:00

Sir Rupert rode into the camp. It didn’t take long for him to find the tent of the King. Dismounting, he strode over there as fast he could move when wearing the heavy armour he had on. Stopping at the door to the tent, he waited until the squire went in to inform the king. A few minutes later the black haired squire reappeared.

“King Eldor will see you in a moment, sir,” the boy said.
“Ah, yes. Thank you . . . what is your name lad?” asked Sir Rupert.
“Octavian, sir.”
“How long have you been a squire to the King?”
“All my life sir.”
“Mayhap you will become Duke of the Seventeens before you expect, young Octavian.”
“Mayhap sir,” Octavian responded quietly.

Sir Caspian, one of the Eleven, emerged from the tent, and nodded by way of greeting to Sir Rupert. He then whispered something to Octavian, and with another nod, made his way to his tent. Octavian turned back towards Sir Rupert.

“The King is ready to see you now, my lord Sir Knight.”
“Thank you, Octavian. I shall watch your progress with interest.”

Cynthia looked up from her spinning wheel as her friend Margaret entered, her face white with shock, and her breathing hard.

“What is it Megs?” Cynthia asked, curiously.
“You have to leave. Now!” Margaret cried breathlessly.

Cynthia stood up immediately, noticing the urgent pleading in her friends eyes, and went for her cloak. Tying it around her neck she questioned Margaret more closely.

“What’s going on? What is happening? Why are you white? Why do I have to leave?” the questions flowed quickly.
“It’s the Duke! He’s proclaimed himself king of Elenaesia!”
“He what? He can’t do that! He doesn’t have the right! And what about the proof of the torc? And the Stone?”
“No one knows where the Stone is, so he won’t have to worry until he finds it.”
“But they will want proof. The people won’t just blindly let him come in and take over without a cry of protest.”
“He’ll take over by might I’m sure. He’s already preparing to send an army against King Eldor.”
“But why am I leaving? Where am I going? Why do I have to leave now?”
“Come with me!” Margaret cried, hustling Cynthia out the door, and down a side alley. “I’ll explain as we go. I can get you out of Merisna, but it is up to you from then on.”
“What is? Explain, Megs, please explain!”
“The Duke has ordered the deaths of every girl or woman or babe named Cynthia, Cindy or some variation on that name. And any unnamed girl child. Once he eradicates them from the Seventeens, he intends to go and do so throughout the rest of Elenaesia. That will put Princess Cynthyana in danger. You have to leave, and go to Aiulindale and warn the king! It is up to you.”
“He’s doing what? He can’t do that! He . . .” she felt a hand clamp over her mouth.
“Shhh! You have to be quiet. He is doing it, and he can. Not because it’s right, but because he has the power to do it. And there will be times when people have power, they will use it, just for the sake of using power.”
“That is true, Megs. But what has made him wish to do this? I don’t understand.”
“Am I supposed to?” Margaret responded with a shrug. I don’t know what he was thinking, or why he wanted to do this. But he is doing it and there is nothing we can do to stop him. You must go to tell the king. Our hope is in you Cynthia. Go now! And may your journey be ever safe. I love you Cynthia.”
“I love you to Megs.”

The two girls threw their arms about each other, wrapping themselves in a warm embrace. Tears welled in Cynthia’s eyes. Could she do this? Why was this happening? Just a few hours earlier her day was perfect, life was beautiful. Now, it was as if a terrible stain had come. It was up to her to save Elenaesia, at least at this point. She squeezed Margaret tighter, and then slipped out the door, not even looking behind.

The Bachelor Bears hadn’t taken too long in releasing the four, and soon they were on their way again. Within a few hours, Edmund, Kathryn, Jessica, and Yoran had exited the mountains and were on their way towards Eirtue. Once they reached the city, they intended to look at some maps and try and see if they could find where in the north the lair of the Ligon would be. As they came over the rise of the hill, they looked down over the city. And were shocked at the sight below.

There below them was an army, with the colours of Orlando DiCaprio and the Dukedom of the Seventeens. That could mean but one thing. DiCaprio was taking Elenaesia into civil war. But why? What was it he wanted? If he wanted civil war, then why did he not attack Aiulindale? Then, suddenly, it hit Edmund. DiCaprio was attacking Eirtue for a reason. If he controlled Eirtue, Ge’irdae, which had nearly had an attack already, and Minelido, taking Aiulindale would be much easier than otherwise. And if he wanted to control it, and take it easily, he would want the kingdom. He wanted the throne. He wanted to rule Elenaesia as king.

“He wants to be king,” Edmund breathed aloud, not realizing he was voicing his thoughts and fears.
“Who wants to be king?” Kathryn asked quickly. Her ears were always sharp, and she caught onto pieces of conversation easily.
“The Duke,” replied Edmund, not caring who knew his musings now.
“You mean Orlando DiCaprio, Duke of the Seventeens?” asked Jessica, not quite believing it.
“The one and only Duke in Elenaesia.”
“Why is he attacking? Why does he want to become king? What is he thinking? How can he do this?” Jessica burst out, trying to register things through the shock that had come over her.
“I don’t know!” Edmund cried exasperated. “All I know is that we’ll have to go around the city then. Far enough around to stay out of sight. I don’t know how we’re going to do this.”
“Perhaps to travel north the best thing is,” offered Yoran. “Look for the Stone ourselves we can. In the Drimvue Forest the lair of the Ligon is, I believe.”
“Very well,” agreed Edmund. “We will go to the Drimvue Forest. Follow me.”
With that the four travellers rode north towards the Drimvue Forest. Hopefully they would find the lair of the Ligon there.

Chapter Twelve - Age of the True King

2004-11-08T17:29:00.007-08:00

Orlando DiCaprio awoke with a start, reaching for his sword as he rolled out of bed. His eyes searched the room, only to discover he was not in a church, but rather his bed chambers in the palace in Merisna. He breathed a deep sigh of relief, and shoved his sword into his sheath. But the anger that stirred within him had not been quenched. How could he, Duke of the Seventeens, King of Elenaesia, dream that he married a hedgehog? And a pink one nonetheless? It was humiliating beyond belief. And to ensure this humiliation never happened again . . . he called loudly for his aides. Within a few minutes three aides came rushing into the room, bowing low before Duke DiCaprio.

“Yes, my lord?” one ventured timidly.
“NO!” DiCaprio shouted. “I am KING! King of Elenaesia! You WILL acknowledge that.”
“Yes, my lo . . . your majesty,” the aide apologized, red faced with shame.
“Now, listen, all of you. And listen carefully. You are to send out riders, the best executioners there are in the Seventeens. You are to send them to every single village or farm or town or any place where humans reside, and you are to give them these orders. They are to kill every woman, girl, and babe, married or unmarried, any and all, who bear the name Cynthia, Cindy, or any form of that name. And if there are any maid child yet unnamed, they are to kill those too. No pleas for mercy, no bribes, no anything is allowed to sway their minds. I want them sent off, and I want it done NOW!” he roared at the end. “So let it be written, so let it be done,” he murmured to himself as the aides ran out.

The aides ran from the room, and heard him slam the door shut behind them. They glanced at each other in shock. What had so angered the Duke, or rather, the King as he now wished to be called? Something, that was for sure. Something had made him very very angry. But they must do what was needed.

The sun dawned bright and clear from the direction of the sea. The company awoke as the warm rays shone down on them. The blue sky showed no trace or hint of clouds, a much nicer outlook than the dreary rain of yesterday. The Bachelor Bears appeared to have been awake for quite some time already, and seemed to be finishing their breakfast.

“We sived some stuff for ye, for ye to eat,” Albert said, proffering some remnants of the rabbits from the evening before.
“That’s very kind of you,” said Jessica.
“Very kind, but in case you had not noticed, we can’t exactly eat very well with our hands tied behind our backs,” Edmund said.
“Ye can’t? Are ye trying to tell me something?” asked Albert. “Oi’m afride Oi don’t quoite understand.”
“Eat with hands tied behind our backs, we cannot,” chirped Yoran. “Telling you that, the boy is. Untie our hands you must if wish for us to eat you do.”
“Well, mites, Oi’m afride Oi’d ‘ave to ask Cap’n Ashley, before Oi do that. Oi’d ‘ave to get ‘is permission, of course. Ye don’t moind, do ye?”
“Not at all,” Kathryn said in that sweet voice of hers.

Albert shuffled over to where Ashley was sitting with Peter and Richard. Robert appeared to still be stuffing his face with some sticky texture that Edmund assumed to be honey. The others were trying to listen in on what the Bears were saying when all of a sudden a mist rolled in, and a light breeze began to blow. Everyone looked up from what they were doing, and glanced around. Something felt out of place, out of the ordinary. They did not know what it was, or how it happened, or even why they felt like this, but they knew that they did.

Then, out from the mist, there seemed to float a figure. Her long white hair, her purple and green dress, her lavender eyes, her bare feet all struck a bell in the minds of Edmund, Jessica and Yoran. It was Heather the Sage. All were silent, but Edmund recovered quickly enough to whisper that it was the Sage whom they had met earlier into Kathryn’s ear. No one moved, there was barely any breathing. The Bachelor Bears seemed to be in a state of hypnotic shock at the sight of her. She opened her lips, and seem to speak, was it another prophecy, or what was it?

Weary travellers though they be
Soon a new age you will see
For heralds of the news they bring
Soon the age of the true king

“True king, ye say?” asked Robert, interested. “The one whom all them prophecies been talking about?”
“True king indeed,” the soft melody and harmony blended together again in her voice. “The days of the true king are upon you, and you sit and tie up those who shall usher it in. Let them go free, or you shall stay under you curse forever. The choice is yours to make, the fate of Elenaesia lies in your hands. But remember, utter the words spoken to you, and you place your life in jeopardy. Set them free, or I shall return to you as a thief in the night on the wings of a storm. Thus speaks Heather the Sage.”

The breeze grew stronger, and then gradually lessened. The Sage seemed to fade away as she almost floated back from the direction she came from. The mist rolled in about her, hiding her from view, as a curtain closing on the final performance of a play. Still silence waited, hanging over them, the breathless joy of the audience, the seemingly impossibility that the performance was over, the sense of wonder of the happenings. It was all there, and yet it was not. It was all there, and yet, there was more.

The day was getting on, the sun was moving across its gentle arc, and the bright city of Eirtue had come in sight. General Hayden Potter raised his arm and signalled for the army to stop. Then, with a short wave of his hand, he summoned Lieutenant Pevensie, who seemed to be mostly recovered from his misstep that morning.

“Yes, my lord general?” Pevensie asked quietly, after giving the general a smart salute.
“Inform the men to fall into battle formation, Lieutenant Pevensie,” Potter said with a snap. He wanted to start fighting, and he didn’t want to wait for them to take however long it was to fall into formation.
“Yes, my lord general. Is there anything else you wish?”
“Not at the moment Lieutenant. Make this quick, I don’t want to waste valuable time waiting for stupid soldiers to move slower than they did when they first entered the barracks school.”
“Yes, my lord general. I hear and obey.”

It did not take as long as Hayden Potter thought it would for the army to enter into battle formation. Other lieutenants came and gave quick status reports to the general. Then, when all was ready, when all the lieutenants reported in, General Hayden Potter raised his arm, glanced around, and then brought it briskly down, the signal to charge. They rode or marched towards the city. Soon catapults were being set up around the walls of Eirtue. General Potter rode to the gate, where what looked to be the leader of Eirtue’s defense was waiting.

“Greetings!” he shouted up to the man at the top of the wall.
“What do you want with us?” the man called down. “What have we done to rouse your wrath?”
“It’s not what you have done, but it is what you have not done,” Potter said. “Vow you loyalty to Orlando DiCaprio, once Duke of the Seventeens, now King of Elenaesia, or face the consequences.”
“King?” the man on the wall asked curiously.
“Yes, king. What, are you deaf, man?”
“Who died and made him king?” the man shot back. “And I am far from deaf.”

Chapter Eleven - An Unwanted Marriage

2004-11-08T17:29:00.006-08:00

It was getting nigh to evening as Binks Vizzini gave the order for them to pull up and set up camp. As soon as his tent was set up, he rolled a map of Elenaesia out on the table and studied it carefully. His chief and primary goal was to find the quickest route to Ge’irdae, without being seen by the lookouts in Minelido. If he, and his battalion, were seen by anyone in Minelido, or on their way to the city, then they were done for. Word would be sent immediately to Aiulindale, and Minelido’s force would come to meet them. They could defeat everything Minelido had to send against them, but that would weaken them before the assault on Ge’irdae.

Binks could not afford for even the smallest of their number to be lost before Ge’irdae, otherwise the assault would not go as planned, nor would he have as many when he went to meet the Duke of the Seventeens in Minelido. So far, all went accordingly with the plan. But the slightest mishap could wreck all. He strode over to the doorway of his tent and looked out.

“Vladisk!” he bawled out into the dark of the night. “Vladisk! I need you in here! NOW!”

Then he went back into his tent, and sat down, shuffling other, smaller maps as he sat in his chair. He didn’t want to go to close to the mountains, but he didn’t want to be to close to Minelido. That left somewhere in the middle, closer to Minelido then the mountains, he preferred, as the acceptable path.

Binks looked up from his maps as a tall burly man entered. The man, Vladisk by name, had a brown beard and mustache, and seemed to almost be too big for his clothes.

“Come here, Vladisk,” Binks said without a pause. “Sit down. We need to discuss our route past Minelido.”
“Yes, General Vizzini,” Vladisk said in a deep husky voice.
“Not Vizzini. Never Vizzini. That name reminds me and links me to much to my ancestor. Instead Binks. General Binks.”
“Yes, General Binks,” Vladisk replied without question or comment.
“Now. Look here. See this spot? That’s Minelido. We are approximately . . .” he did some quick measuring, “here. We need to get past Minelido, but not go too far towards the mountains.”
“And at the same time stay away from Minelido, correct General Binks?” Vladisk asked.
“Yes, Vladisk. The problem at hand however, is how close to Minelido can we get, without being seen by any lookouts or spies they might have.”
“That would seem to be the problem, General Binks.”
“STOP agreeing with me, and start fixing the problem Vladisk!”
“Yes, General Binks. My apologies, General Binks.”
“Now, what is your opinion on the matter, Vladisk? Where do you think would be a good path?”
“Whatever you see best, General Binks.”
“NO! I will NOT stand for this any longer! Answer my question in your honest truthful opinion, or I shall leave you in the mountains for the Pegasi to feed upon!”
“Yes, General Binks. My apologies, General Binks.”
“Stop apologizing, and start brainstorming. We need to find a path.”
“Yes, General Binks. Perhaps if you were approximately here, General Binks, then we could possibly get by, if you think it would work, of course, General Binks.”
“I don’t care what you think about my thinking, I want to know if you think it will work.”
“Yes, General Binks. It would work. However, you must do this . . .”

“My name is Ashley. We Bears are of a quite old race, always have inhabited the Amandu Mountains. We have lived here long before any of your race has dared step foot in these hallowed hills. We are a group, a small, group of these Bears. We are the Bachelor Bears. We are not accustomed to others daring to set foot in our territory. As a result, we must take you before the House of Commons, to be tried. If they find you guilty, you must go before the House of Lords. It is our way. But now, let us at least eat. I see that you have already eaten. You do not mind, do you?”
“Help yourself,” Edmund said with a sigh of defeat. But one glance into his eyes assured Jessica he had no intention of giving up any time soon. “I hope you are enjoying yourself.”
“Rather,” Ashley said with a small smile.

The Bears began to help themselves to the food that was left over from the others meal. As the Bears ate the rabbits, Edmund turned to Kathryn, hoping to comfort her if she was worried. But he soon realized that despite her blindness, she had more courage than he would have expected.

“Are you alright, Lady Kathryn?” he asked in a whisper.
“I am not afraid, if that is what you mean, Edmund,” she responded.
“You are not afraid?” Edmund said in surprise.
“The ability to see does not necessarily give one courage, and the lack of sight does not imply the lack of courage thereof. I may not be able to see what has attacked or captured us, but that is no reason to fear them. How can you fear that which you do not see?” she finished with a small smile.
“Yes, I suppose, that is true. I had not thought about that.”
“Sometimes it is wise to look at other perspectives before forming an opinion, Edmund. But do not worry about it. None are harmed, and it is an honest question. Nothing to worry about.”

The talk amongst the prisoners died down as the night wore on. The Bears had finished their supper, and were now deciding who would go on guard duty first. All the company had fallen asleep, save for Yoran. He stayed up and jabbered the night away with the guard on duty, and when shift time came, he continued to jabber away with the next one.

“‘ello, squirrel,” Robert said. “Are ye ‘aving a nice toime, mite?”
“Why imprison strangers, do you?” Yoran asked. “An answer to your question I will give. A better time I would have, if free the ladies were.”
“Well, Oi say,” said Robert. “Ye do ‘ave a thing for them lidies, don’t ye?”

Orlando DiCaprio, Duke of the Seventeens, and styling himself as King of Elenaesia, turned over in his bed. He had not slept well for several days, and this night was like all the rest of them. Finally, as a cat taking over a mouse, sleep overtook him, and he fell into its grasp, letting it wrap its dark hand around him. And then he slept. Until the dream began. It was worse than any he could ever have imagined.

The bells in the church sang out as the young bell boy pulled at the ropes with all his might. The choir burst into song, sounding as if all the angels had gathered there. The paintings of the saints such as Saint Ophelia and Saint Leo shone in the candlelight. And there he stood, at the altar. White lilacs and blue liliocks were scattered around the church, their petals strewn all across the aisle. The music swelled, the choir sang, and the entire congregation stood. He turned towards the door, and with a great crescendo, the door opened. A short, pink hedgehog appeared, decked out in bridal wear, her white satin dress hung like a potato sack, and her prickles poked through the thin veil upon her head. She walked mincingly down the aisle, in perfect time to the music, her head held high, and her eyes shining like stars.

As she reached the Duke, the bishop placed her hand in his, and began reciting the ceremony. The hedgehog gazed up at the tall Duke, her eyes filled with love and tears of happiness. He on the other hand did not seem joyful or happy or even loving.

“Do you, Orlando DiCaprio, take this hedgehog, Little Cindy Lou Who, to be your lawfully wedded wife til death do you part?”
DiCaprio stared at the bishop in shock. Only now did full understanding flood over him, and he realized what exactly was happening. “I do?” he asked confused, and angry.

The bishop interpreted that as the answer he was looking for. He then turned to the pink hedgehog standing beside DiCaprio, and he smiled gently down at her.

“Do you, Little Cindy Lou Who, take this man, Orlando DiCaprio, to be your lawfully wedded husband til death do you part?”
“I do!” she squealed up at him, her face shining with rapture and excitement.

The bishop then turned his attention to the congregation gathered there in the church that day. A he smile lit up his face as he whispered for Orlando and Little Cindy Lou DiCaprio to turn around and face the crowd of witnesses.

“May I present, Mr. and Mrs. Orlando and Little Cindy Lou DiCaprio!” he cried.

The bells pealed more loud and clear and the congregation once again stood. Loud cheers sprang from the witnesses, the organ once more added its voice to the others. Flowers were thrown, and well wishes were wished. The people of Elenaesia were happy for DiCaprio, and for his lovely pink hedgehog of a wife.

Chapter Ten - The Fire Crackles

2004-11-08T17:29:00.005-08:00

Sir Rupert continued to ride towards Aiulindale. He paused briefly as the rain let up. He had travelled for a day now, it was the morning after he left. He surveyed the plain around him looking for signs that the King’s army had passed this way. Suddenly, a small spot caught his eye. It seemed small, but, no, wait, could it be? He strained his eyes to their maximum, and looked more closely at the spot. It was. He was sure of it. Unless he was riding straight into an enemy trap, but no, he wouldn’t worry about that. He would ride. He knew it would be safe, he could feel it in his heart. Digging his heels into his horse’s flank, he rode harder, and faster, towards the moving spot. As he rode it grew larger, and he knew he was definitely heading for the army of King Eldor.

Edmund, Kathryn, Jessica, and Yoran turned to each other after the mysterious and mystical Sage had left them. Jessica quickly explained what Heather the Sage looked like to her older sister, and then they thought over her words.

“Where on earth do we find the lair of a Ligon?” Edmund asked, sounding quite exasperated. “By Elbrenhine, Queen of the Stars, I do not think I have heard where such lair would be!”
“Ask then, do you, where to find such lair?” asked Yoran, tilting his head up at what seemed an awkward angle to Jessica. “If the location of such is what you wish, ask you must to find it.”
Edmund sighed deeply. “Do you know where the location of such forest is, Yoran?”
“Know where it is, I do not. However, stories have I heard. To the north they point, if searching for the ligon’s lair you are.”
“Then let us head north,” Kathryn said quietly, in her usual way.
“But what if we can’t find it?” protested Jessica and Edmund together.
“We will find it, and we will bring it to the king,” the blind lady said simply, her jaw set, but still smooth in her face.
“How do you know?” they asked her in despair.
“Question the lady’s integrity and honour, do you?” Yoran asked, beginning to draw the needle from its gold and scarlet scabbard. “Listen more to objections to the lady I shall not. What she says to do, we shall.”
“I suppose you are right, Yoran,” Edmund conceded. “But come, if we are to go north, we cannot stand here dilly dallying all day long. Let us ride. Come, Lady Kathryn, let me help you mount Liliock.”

The four rode north in silence for a few hours, Edmund or Jessica breaking the silence to describe an especially beautiful or interesting place to their blind companion. Now that the rain had gone there was the fresh green smell that is always there at the end of a rain shower. A rainbow graced the sky, and a few clouds were all that was left of the grey stormy morning. As the sun began to set, Edmund and Yoran began looking for a place to spend the night. They found another rocky overhang, and decided to stop then when they knew there was a place they could sleep, rather than wait until they could not find one. Soon they had a fire going, and the four sat around it while Jessica cooked some rabbits that Edmund had captured that evening. As they sat there, Kathryn began to quietly whisper some words, as she looked unseeing into the flames:

I look in the fire
I see faces in the flames
Of people long ago
Saints and teachers
Kings and warriors
Friends, foe, rich, poor
Authors and artists
They are all there
Now the flames twist,
The fire crackles
One face disappears
Another takes its place
Then,
All are gone, just one remains
Blank and empty
In time, others will sit
And gaze into the firelight
My blank face will be filled,
But their's will be waiting
Until another gazer comes.

“What is that?” asked Edmund curiously. But it was Jessica who answered him.
“That is a poem by Myrddin, called ‘Into the Firelight’. It is one of Kat’s favourite poems.”
“I like it,” said Edmund, which surprised himself. He wasn’t usually one for poetry, but this one he liked. This, and the Prophecy spoke by the Sage. There was something different, something, could it be considered, real?

After that silence seem to hold reign over the small camp as they sat around the fire. The rabbits done, Jessica served them and not a word was spoken while they ate. All of a sudden Yoran’s ears perked up, and he put his paw to the handle of his needle.

“Coming, something is,” he murmured.
“Rather,” came a deep voice from behind them, with an odd sounding accent. Those who have travelled over the Natualae Sea will remember it as sounding rather British. Jessica whirled around first, her hand rushing to her mouth to stifle the shriek. Edmund and Yoran turned at the same time, drawing their sword and needle respectively. They came face to face with four large brown bears.
“Good evening,” continued the Bear. “Oi trust yer ‘aving a moighty foine evening, mites?”
“Ye . . . es,” responded Jessica, still quite visibly shocked.
“Well then, Oi ‘ope you don’t mind if we spoils the party a bit, do ye? Course ye won’t. Not one toiny bit. ‘ere now Albert, ye got those ropes ready, eh? Yes, those ones. Thank ye koindly, Albert. Peter, ye and Robert help ‘im toi them up. Not to toight now, ye ‘ear? If ye did it to toight, we’d never ‘ear the end of it from Lord Sherlock. There ye go, mites. Never seen a prettier piece of work meself. Oi rather loike it.”

The other three bears had quickly tied each member of the group’s wrists together behind their backs before they could protest. Despite their bulgy paws, they were deft and rather quick as well. Just when the group was making up their minds that this could not get any more strange than it already was, another, larger Bear appeared. Not only was he larger than the others, but brown bowler cap was perched on his head, and brown wooden pipe was clenched in his mouth.

“Good evening,” he said, speaking in a slow cultured British accent. “I trust that all is going well with you this evening?”
“Oi should say so, me lord,” the main Bear who had been speaking to them earlier piped up. “They’re a pretty kettle of fish, if Oi do say so meself.”
“Now, Richard, you can be quiet for a bit. Let me tell these fine young friends of ours a bit about us. Would you like to know who we are?” the Bear with the bowler spoke, puffing out a few smoke rings on his pipe.
“Yes indeed,” said Edmund, wondering to himself who they were and what exactly these creatures were doing here.
“Well then, young lad, I will begin.”

Chapter Nine - Sharp Words

2004-11-08T17:29:00.004-08:00

“It is greater than God, more evil than the devil. The poor have it, the rich need it, and if you eat it you will die,” Klicati said with a sly look at Mara.

Mara hissed some flames as she thought. “Nothing. What always runs, but never walks, often murmurs but never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth, but never eats?”

“Runs walks, murmurs, talks, bed, sleeps, mouth, eats,” Klicati murmured quietly to herself. She paused, thinking. “A river. A prisoner is told ‘If you tell a lie we will hang you, if you tell the truth, we will shoot you.’ What can he say to save himself?”

The ligon snorted in disgust. “‘You will hang me.’ I am always hungry, I must always be fed. The finger I touch will soon turn red.”

The cat looked quizzically at the ligon next to her. What was this one? She thought over several things, pondering the riddle. What could the answer be? She pondered over it, and thought it over, turning it over, until, at last, it hit her. “Fire.”

General Hayden Potter glanced outside his tent. The rain was slowing down. It was still dark outside, only a few stars graced the sigh. He saw Elbrenhine shining in the heavens, the Queen of the Galaxy, Queen of the Stars. Potter smiled a small smile upon seeing her. He was a man who still had emotions, and he loved things of nature and the saints. He moved back into his tent and strapped on his sword belt. It was time to prepare to ride again. Tomorrow they would attack Eirtue. He was sure of it. It didn’t take long for him to pack up his cot and roll up his bedroll. The general brought them outside and tied them on to the back of the saddle. Already some of his men were taking down his tent and placing it with the other tents. Tying his cloak around his neck, he gave the site one last glance around before walking towards his horse. Swinging his leg over the horse’s saddle he mounted quickly and rode to where the captain stood astride his horse.

“Are we ready to move Captain Glearis?” he asked sharply. If the answer was no, Glearis would have some answering to do, he decided.
“Almost, my lord general,” Glearis responded with a nod towards his General. “The last remnants of the battalion are preparing to march”
“Very good Captain,” Potter said. He sighed inwardly though. He wanted to ride! To march. To fight. To fight is what he truly wanted. And then, at the end, to proclaim a new king, one whom he could control.

A young lieutenant came riding up to where Glearis and Potter waited. He saluted smartly and briefly and waited to be acknowledged before he began to speak.

“Yes Lieutenant?” Captain Glearis asked the young lad.
“My lord Captain,” he began, then nodded at General Potter, “and my lord General.” He turned his attention back to his captain before continuing. “The men have taken down the camp. They are ready to march towards Eirtue.”
“Very good Lieutenant. My lord General?” Glearis asked the general inquiringly.
“Sound the horn. We march to the city of Eirtue!”

Glearis wound the horn and the company set off. They marched down the long dusty rode towards Eirdue, one of the four major cities outside of the Seventeens. As they rode, Potter summoned the young lieutenant to him. The boy rode over, and after another salute, remained silent until he was spoken to. The general also remained silent for quite a ways, the only sounds that could be heard were the clip clop of the horses and the steady tramp of the soldiers and the twittering of little birds in the trees that they past. Occasionally the busy hum of a bee could be heard as it flew from flower to flower. Finally, the general turned to the boy and began to speak.

“What is your name Lieutenant?” he asked without further ado.
“Pevensie, my lord general,” came the eager lad’s reply.
“Indeed. What have you been taught about those in command over you, Lieutenant Pevensie?”
“Always to salute them, and not to speak until they have acknowledged you, my lord general.”
“Indeed. Is that all you were taught at the barracks school in Merisna?”
“No, my lord general. I was also taught to acknowledge the highest ranking officer first, and to speak directly to him, no matter who my direct officer is.”
“Indeed?” General Potter asked, raising his eyebrows quizzically. “Is that so?”
“Oh yes, my lord general. It was one of the first lessons taught to us at the barracks school.”
“If this is true, Lieutenant Pevensie, as I believe it is, for I learned those same lessons when I was at the barracks school in Mersina, then may I inquire as to the reason that you did not obey those lessons this morning?”
Young Lieutenant Pevensie looked down at his horse’s saddle horn sheepishly, and studied the design on it intently. What was he to say to this? He had done wrong. And now he must pay the price for doing such wrong. He sighed deeply, but broke off in the middle, knowing that the general was expecting an answer.

“I am very sorry my lord general,” he began rather awkwardly. “I, well you see, well, I was, I was not expecting to see you there my lord general, and so I didn’t really register the fact that you were there. I did not mean to slight you or to do it on purpose, it was only that I was so eager to go and I did not really realize that it was you who was there, and . . .” he broke off, knowing that whatever excuse he made was in fact quite futile.
“Do you dare to make excuses to your lord and general?” Potter said turning towards the young lieutenant.

The boy’s face had been so eager, and so willing to please just a few moments ago. Now, it was crestfallen and wrought with shame. It seemed a pity for one so young to have to fall prey to such rules and regulations as defined the army of the Duke of the Seventeens, but it was to be expected. Not all could keep up with the firm laws that had been created. Should he let the boy get away with it this time, with a warning, should he punish the lad, or send the young lieutenant back to Merisna in open shame? He could not do that. But what could, or should, or would he do punishment wise? A lashing with the whip when they stopped for the night? No, that hardly seemed appropriate in this case. A tongue lashing should be all that young Pevensie needed this time. Hopefully it was all that he needed. But he would ensure that the boy got a good one.

Chapter Eight - Don't Frighten the Ligon

2004-11-08T17:29:00.003-08:00

Klicati and Mara remained silent, waiting, watching, knowing that whoever or whatever it was would be in sight shortly. Mara was impatient, smoke steamed from her nostrils as she impatiently beat her wings against her side noiselessly. Klicati conveyed her annoyance in her own way. She brushed her tail back and forth on the ground behind her, her green eyes gleaming in the light that shown round the corner into the lair.

Then, he came. He, was a boy, about thirteen years of age. His hair was curly, thick and curly, in a chocolaty mud-coloured brown shade. His eyes were hazel, changing from brown to green to whatever other colour they chose to be at the moment. He was fairly tall for a thirteen year old boy, almost six feet. And he was muttering to himself. Pricking her ears forward, the sly tortoiseshell cat listened intently, knowing full well her ligon companion already knew what he was saying. If a cat could be confused, Klicati was. Don’t frighten the Ligon? What on earth was ‘Don’t frighten the Ligon’ supposed to mean? Why was he muttering this to himself over and over and over again?

“I must not frighten the Ligon!” the boy yelled. Klicati lurched over, it was much louder than the whispered mutterings, and she had not expected it. She noticed that Mara had lifted her wings and was near the top of the lair. Smoke breathed from her nostrils, and fire came out of her mouth.

“Who are you who dares enter the lair of Mara the Ligon?” she roared, deafeningly.
“Br . . . Br . . . Brendan,” the boy stammered as he glanced up at the angry and somewhat frightened ligon.
“Do not enter here without permission, Brendan!” She flew towards him, her wings flapping outstretched by her sides.

Brendan turned and ran, his face pale, his mind intent on one, and only one goal. Getting out of there alive. He ran, and ran, and ran, caring not about what went on around him, he wanted to get home and get home quickly. Mara flew after him for a while, ensuring that he would not return, and then she turned around and flew softly back to her lair. Klicati was waiting for her there.

“What did you do to him?” she asked primly, swishing her tail behind her again as she turned her emerald eyes upon the ligon.
“Merely frightened him away this time. If there is a next time,” she broke off into a snarl. “It is my lair, and I intend to keep it that way. No one comes in without my permission.”
“Very good,” purred Klicati approvingly. “Very good.”
“Now,” said Mara. “Let us continue. Who’s turn was it?”

After a long discussion with Yoran the Squirrel, the three decided to wait out the rain until afternoon came. Then, they would continue on their way.

“Go to see Heather the Sage you must,” Yoran told them. “Take you to her I will.”
“Why do we need to go see this Sage you speak of?” Kathryn asked gently and quietly.
“Know about the Stone of the King she does. Know where it lies, she will.”
“Are you certain,” Jessica asked, perhaps a bit to eagerly.
“Certain that she will have an answer, I am, my lady. Certain that it will be pleasing to your ears, grant that I cannot. Wait we must until see her we are able.”
“Who is this Sage that you mentioned, Heather,” Edmund said. “Who is she? Why should she know where the Stone of the King is?”
“Old, she is, and wise as well,” said Yoran. “Know much she does. Know all, it is thought of by some.”
“Very well,” decided Edmund. “We shall go with you to find her this afternoon.”

Sir Rupert rode through the rain towards Aiulindale. He intended to find the king, to prove that he was still worthy of the title of Knight in Elenaesia. Drat the rain, he thought. It was a wet day, and he hated to travel on wet days. It seemed like the rain would never end, it just came down in sheets, in torrents. He drew his cloak closer to him, and checked his sword to make sure it was still safely by his side.

He hoped he would reach Aiulindale before the King rode out with the army, or meet them on the way. The sun seemed to be trying to decide if it would come out of hiding or not. He fervently hoped it would, the rain was soaking his cloak, and he didn’t like the wetness of everything.

King Eldor gave the order for them to set up camp. As soon as his tent was up, he went inside. The rain could be heard pounding on the ground outside. They had stopped earlier than he would have liked too, but he had no real choice in the matter. They could not continue in this weather. The packs would get to heavy for the horses otherwise. He nodded as Sir Paulo, Head Knight of the Eleven, entered his tent.

“The scouts have returned your majesty,” he said with a small bow.
“And how are they? What did they find?”
“They are a bit wet, my lord, but unharmed. There is no sign of the enemy in the directions they travelled.”
“I’m sure their wetness isn’t very wet, Sir Paulo,” Eldor said with a smile. “No sign of the enemy. Hmm. What is Leonardo planning? What has changed him?” The king sighed deeply as he mulled over thoughts in his mind. “Set up a guard at the edge of the camp. I’ll think more on this. When I have formulated more of a plan, I will inform you immediately. Good day to you, Sir Paulo.”
“And to you as well, my liege and lord.” Then Sir Paulo bowed and turned, and slowly walked out of the tent with a purposeful stride.

The rain had stopped, the sun had appeared from behind its nesting place in the clouds. Yoran stopped his fencing practice, and with a final twirl, he returned his needle to it’s scabbard with a flourish. Then he turned back to the others. Edmund and Jessica had finished getting the horses ready to go. He made a low bow to Kathryn, and then spoke.

“Ready to go are we? If more rest the lady requires, wait a while we can.”
“No, thank you. I am ready to go,” Kathryn responded with a smile.
“Good. Then go to see the Sage we must. Come now, ready to go we are, and ride far we must. Time must be on our side, if to find the Stone before war breaks out you wish.”

Yoran rode in front of Edmund. He gave instructions as to where they were to go, telling him to turn here or go down that path. Sometimes it seemed like they’d never get there. Always they were turning, or going straight, or something. How far into the mountains did this sage live, anyways? They wondered at that. Finally, after what seemed like ages, but what was in truth only a few hours, Yoran made an announcement.

“Arrive there quite shortly we will,” he said very simply.

And indeed, about ten minutes later, they arrived in a small clearing. Yoran gave orders to dismount, which were promptly followed. Edmund helped Kathryn dismount from her horse, and then, following the lead shown to them by Yoran the Squirrel, they walked to the middle of the clearing. First they heard a voice:

Faded fading into light
Daytime springing out of night
Ligon’s breath and heated flame,
Showing truth of monarch’s name.
When fireproof are eyeless folk,
Into dark the fire broke.

The voice was soft and melodious, speaking in a sing song type of voice. Yet it was also deep and harmonious, as if there was more to it than just the simple melody. They turned towards the direction of the voice, and there they saw coming towards them what could only be the Sage. She, for it was a she, they decided, when she came closer, had long flowing white hair. She was arrayed in a sage green and pale heather coloured garment that fell to her ankles. Her feet were bare, and sprigs of fresh heather and sage were tucked in her hair behind her ears. Her face was both old and young, and she had a responsible, yet carefree look to her face. Her eyes seemed to be of lavender, and they sparkled a bit when she saw them.

“I have spoken to you the Prophecy,” she said, the melody and harmony of her voice melting together to form a symphony. “The Prophecy not uttered by many, and those who do dare utter it, have placed their lives in jeopardy. It is not meant for the unskilled to speak, the skills are only known by few. And few indeed are gifted enough to be granted hearing of the Prophecy. But come now, what is it that you have come to me, Heather the Sage, for?”
“We seek the Stone of the King, and we have heard it is in these mountains, o Sage,” said Edmund.

Heather lifted her eyebrows just a touch. “Indeed, and who is they that speak so simply of that which is by no means simple?”
“Sir Rupert,” explained Jessica.
“Indeed?” she asked, her eyebrows lifting just a little more. “I know you are on a true quest to find it. Questions I do not need to ask, open before me like books are your minds. I see that you tell the truth. Search not here for the Stone of the King. Go instead to the Forest of the Ligon. Look there, in the lair of one called Mara, and you will find the Stone of the King. Finding the lair will not be hard. Retrieving the Stone will call upon courage. Yet what comes after will tax your true strength. Go now at once, and may your journeys be ever filled with adventure.”

With that Heather the Sage backed slowly away, almost fading into the mist that was beginning to roll in from the north.

Chapter Seven - Treachery?

2004-11-08T17:29:00.002-08:00

The rain had finally let up. The army was on the move. Binks and Potter saluted the Duke, and then rode to the head of their respective battalions. A few crisp orders later, and they were off. Potter took his battalion north west. They were going to lay siege to the city of Eirtue. The Eleven Knights were gathered in Aiulindale, and the king had called the army, so there would be relatively few defences around Eirtue. With only a light drizzle to get in their way, the battalion of Hayden Potter would be able to crush the city with relative ease.

Binks Vizzini led his men north and east towards Ge’irdae. They were going to go close to the edge of the mountains, instead of Minelido. Duke DiCaprio would take some of the battalion later on to Minelido, where they would attack the city, and take it over. Until that happened however, it would not be safe for them to get within sighting distance of the city. Small though it was, it was not time for it to be attacked. They needed to follow their plan very carefully, to ensure that all went according to the plan.

It was a long march to Eirtue. Or for those officers lucky enough to have horses, a long ride. Either way, it was tiring, and when they stopped for the night, they were exhausted from the long day’s journey. The captain underneath Hayden Potter came to Potter’s tent that evening. He stopped outside, until he was acknowledged. Then, ducking his head through the door, he stepped inside and walked over to where Potter was sitting.

“M’lord,” he said as he bowed before the seated lord. “It should take us approximately two more days to get to Eirtue.”
“That is understood, Captain,” Potter responded. He was in an incredibly good mood tonight. He briefly wondered if the wine he had been drinking was any different, but, on account of his mood he did not care. “Two days will not be a problem. We will still get there in time for Duke DiCaprio’s plan to work. All will turn out well.”
“Yes, m’lord,” the captain replied. “Are there any specific orders for tonight?”
“We ride at daybreak. Have the soldiers prepare to break camp before then, I intend to set out as soon as the sun rises over the Sea of Nautalae. I will give more specific orders tomorrow night. Then you will know more of our plan of attack. Until then, consider yourself dismissed, Captain.”
“Yes, m’lord.”
“Oh, and Captain?”
“Yes, m’lord?”
“If all goes well, then you may find yourself knighted after the Duke is crowned king of Elenaesia.”
“Yes, m’lord,” the captain said with another bow. Then, with a small smile on his face, he left the tent. Outside his smile grew wider, only to be replaced by a grim scowl as he walked up to a corporal and told him to give the battalion the order of General Potter.

Binks Vizzini watched as the newly made general, Hayden Potter, bravely and valiantly led his men out towards the ancient city of Eirdue. After waiting for a few moments, his gaze following the battalion of men as the moved towards Eirdue as a small wave, crashing on the shore, he turned towards the tent where the Duke of the Seventeens was seated. The door of the tent flapped in the gentle breeze, and Vizzini walked towards it with as much courage as he could muster. He knew he was going to need it. Pausing for breath outside the door, he gathered more courage to himself, knowing that the Duke had already noticed his presence. Delaying any longer would only heighten any and all suspicions Duke DiCaprio might already have. Entering the tent, as one plunging into the freezing water of a lake in winter, he walked in and bowed low before the Duke.

“M’lord Duke,” he began, but the Duke cut him off sharply.
“It is to be ‘Your Majesty’, do you understand?”
“Yes, m’l . . . yes your majesty,” Vizzini quickly corrected himself.
“You have something you wish to say, Binks?”
“Indeed, your majesty. I have reason to believe,” he paused, and then jumped headlong in. He had come this far already, he might as well finish the job. “I have reason to believe that Hayden Potter is planning treachery against your lordship.”
“And where might you get such reason?” the Duke asked dangerously, a sharp edge coming into his voice. Vizzini knew that his life was now balanced precariously on the edge of a knife. His answer could mean life or death for him now.
“General Potter told me that he did not want you on the throne, and that he wanted someone he could control.”
“Did he ask you to help him in his plan?”
“Yes, your majesty. But I said I would not, and I could not. I told him he spoke treason, but he did not listen to me.”
“Indeed. Very well. I thank you for telling this to me. Now, go at once. Ge’irdae will not wait forever, and the longer you dawdle here, the more time they have to reinforce the guard around the walls. You must pass Minelido with as little notice as possible. That is of utmost importance to the success of this battle plan. Dismissed.”
“Yes, your majesty.”

Vizzini bowed low again before the Duke, and then slowly, and carefully, for it was no easy feat, backed out of the tent. Once outside in the cold chilly air, with a raw wind blowing on his face, he deftly mounted his horse, and with a wave of his arm, ordered his men to follow. They marched or rode to Ge’irdae. They would attack when they arrived. By the time they began their attack, Hayden Potter would have taken over Eirdue. That would only leave Aiulindale, and Minelido. But while they were still marching to Ge’irdae, the Duke planned to take out Minelido. Once that was done, they would control the three major cities aside from Aiulindale outside of the Seventeens. Elenaesia would be their’s, forever.

Chapter Six - Yoran and Riddles

2004-11-08T17:29:00.001-08:00

Orlando DiCaprio nodded as Hayden Potter and Binks Vizzini came towards his tent. As they came he dismissed Draziw with another nod of his head, and walked into the tent. The two men followed him in, their cloaks drenched by the rain. There was a tremendous downpour now, and Potter worried to himself that the unexpected turn of events might change the plans for battle. But, as he looked on DiCaprio’s face, he did not see the same worry there.

DiCaprio spread a map out on the table. He placed two books on each side firmly down to hold it out. With a nod of his head, he called the two over to the table.

“This is where we are. The rain is upsetting our plans some, but we will compromise. If you go here, instead of there,” he said pointing on the map, “then we can save time because of the rain, and still strike in a workable location. Now, as to what we will do with the main attack plan . . .”

The rain poured down throughout the dreary night. Edmund kept watch while Jessica and Kathryn slept. Partway through the night Jessica awoke, and insisted that he get some sleep. Then, she positioned herself where she had the best view of anything that might come upon them. She saw nothing throughout the rest of the night. Just the rain falling onto the trees and the rocks, and the flash of lightening as it lit up the dark sky. It felt dreary and cold and very wet. It was her hope that it would be much drier by morning.

When the others awoke the next morning the rain showed signs of letting up. The sun dawned bright and clear from the direction of the Sea of Nautalae. They ate a quick breakfast, and then held council to decide what to do.

“The basic question is,” said Edmund, “do we go on in the rain, or wait until it stops?”
“I think,” said Jessica, “that it depends on how long it will be until the rain stops.”
“That’s the problem,” explained Edmund. “We have no way of knowing how long it will take for the rain to let up. It could take weeks, and it could take a few minutes to a few hours. If it takes weeks, we can’t afford to wait. If it only takes one or two hours, then it won’t really harm us.”
“Problems you have,” came a voice. “Help you I will.”

Kathryn raised an eyebrow in surprise, but did not bother turning towards the voice. Jessica turned towards the voice with a shriek, and Edmund had already drawn his sword. The two were quite surprised when they saw the owner of the voice. It was a fairly large squirrel, about two feet high, and it stood perched on the stump next to them. A few acorns lay at its feet, and one was held cupped in its hands.

“So surprised are you,” it said. “Of what surprise am I? Study the Amandu Mountains do you not?”
“Who are you?” asked Edmund dangerously.
“And rude we are, that I can tell,” answered the squirrel. “But give you my name I shall, and show you some manners also.”
“Who are you?” repeated Edmund.
“Yoran my name is. From the clan of Squirrels I am. But surprised you are. Ask I do the reason for this?”
“I didn’t know you really existed,” Jessica finally blurted out.
“Myths in fairy tales did you think us?” Yoran sighed. “More intelligence did I expect you to have. Remedy that I see that I must. But come, some manners at least you must have. Your names I now ask.”
“I am Edmund, personal squire to Paulo son of Gregorio, Knight of Elenaesia. These are my companions, the Lady Kathryn and the Lady Jessica, nieces of the said Sir Knight.”
“An honour to meet you, I am sure,” said Yoran. “Now that introduced we have been, get to business we must. Worried are you about the rain?”
“We can’t travel very well in such weather, Yoran,” Kathryn said quietly.
“True or not that has yet to be determined. In order to know, ask you I must, what quest brings you here?”
“We seek the Stone of the King,” said Edmund.
“Stone of the King you say? Heard I have not of it being here. But hidden from me, there still is much. Why search you for this Stone?”

Jessica answered the squirrel’s questions, as Edmund whispered a description of the squirrel to Kathryn. Yoran was two feet high, as has been said, and had a red belt slung across one shoulder and around his body. From this was hung a small gold and red scabbard, containing what appeared to be a large embroidery needle. The eye of the needle was wrapped with gold thread, matching the gold on the scabbard. A band of gold was wrapped around his head, with a red feather sticking out of it near his right ear.

Klicati arched her back, and then entered the lair. She was a beautiful tortoiseshell cat, with glowing yellow eyes. Walking primly in, she went to her customary spot, and sat down, brushing dirt aside with her tail. A few moments later, the large form of Mara was seen from the darkness in the back. She stretched her wings a bit, and then folded them against her flank. She was a red ligon, half lion, half dragon. Her dragon head bent low in greeting to the proud puss sitting in front of her. Without further ado, they began.

Klicati spoke first, as always. “At night they come without being fetched. At day they are lost without being stolen.”

Without a pause Mara answered. “The stars. I never was, am always to be, no one ever saw me, nor ever will, yet I am the confidence of all, who live and breathe on this terrestrial ball.”

Klicati was a bright one as well, and no pause did she need to respond. “Tomorrow. The beginning of eternity, the end of time and space, The beginning of every end, and the end of every place.”

Mara still was not phased by the riddle. “The letter e. A man, while looking at a photograph said, ‘Brothers and sisters have I none. That man’s father is my father’s son.’”

If Klicati had eyebrows, she would have raised them. “The man’s son. A man left town on Sunday, rode for three days without stopping, and entered the next town on Sunday.”

Two streams of smoke left Mara’s nostrils. Klicati knew it as a warning to give a harder riddle. “His horse was named Sunday. Scarcely was the father in this world when the son could be found sitting on the roof.”

The cat paused, and hissed. She waited a few seconds, and then answered. “Fire, and smoke.” But she did not ask another riddle. The two turned towards the entrance, where they could here the sound of footsteps coming.

Chapter One - The Plot

2004-11-08T17:29:00.000-08:00

She could hear the muffled voices in the courtyard below, the knights talking as they prepared to ride to the aid of the king. Yet all was blackness, she could see nothing. The tall girl stood at the window, rain dripping down the glass panes. Her brown curls were pulled into a grey net, revealing the grey pearl earrings that graced her ears. She wore a grey velvet dress, with white trimmings.

The big oak door muffled the sounds of feet in the hallway. The girl turned as she heard the familiar creaking as the door swung open. She heard two pairs of feet entered, and wondered who it was. One set she recognized as Marian, the maid, and the other, the other she did not know.

“M’lady, this is Edmund,” Marian said quietly. “Sir Paulo and Lady Genevieve have assigned him to be yer guardian.”
“Do they think I need I need a guardian? What would the enemy want with me?”
“I know not, m’lady. He is also to be yer companion.”
“Very well then, Marian.”
“Is there anything else ye be needin’?”
“No. Thank you Marian.”
“Yes m’lady. If ye need me, I’ll be comin’.”

Edmund looked at the girl. She was only up to his shoulders, and seemed thin and pale, yet there was some type of ethereal quality to her. Some of her brown curls had escaped from the net and framed her oval face. Her eyes were blue-grey, yet dull. It seemed strange to him, that he was looking at someone who had never seen the sun, who had never seen the moon, or the stars.

The two of them sat down, and silence ensued. Finally, the girl broke the silence.
“You wanted to accompany them, did you not?”

The boy turned to her in surprise. “How did you know?”
Her thin shoulder shrugged. “I learn these things. I won’t let my blindness make me oblivious to the outside world.”
“I wish I could go with them.”
“We don’t always get what we want, Edmund. If we did, we would have nothing to look forward to.”
“But how do you know? Is there any one person who knows everything, that they would know this? How can we know if we have not tried?” Edmund sighed. Then, a small book on the table caught his eye. “'Poems of Myrddin the Wise’,” he read.

A small smile appeared on her face. “It is my sister’s. She reads it to me sometimes when she is here.”

The boy, yet he was not a boy, flipped through the book. Nineteen years of hard work had turned him from boy to man, sooner than most in Elenaesia. He had hair as black as coal, and his green eyes shone bright as he glanced at a page here and there. Suddenly, something caught his eye. To my beloved daughter, Kathryn Eleniel, child of the stars. May you someday shine as bright as Elbrenhine, our beloved northern star. He looked up at the lady in front of him.

“I thought you said it was your sister’s,” he said, after a pause.
Kathryn looked at him, could not see him, darkness abounded. “Yes,” she said quietly. “It is my sister’s. I gave it to her, for it was no use to me. I was born blind, I have never held the shining wonders of the world in my mind, my eyes have never digested the beauty of flowers, I have never oohed and ahed over the colours of fabrics as maids worked on my dresses. I have never seen the rain on the windows, never seen the rich decorations my mother loved to put up during Yule. What use was the book to me? I could never look at its pages, have my hand caress the printed words, as my lips silently read the old familiar poems. So, I gave it to my sister. She has loved it, I can tell, from the slight creases, the small indentions in the cover, the feel of worn pages. And I rejoice more than I could otherwise. You see, Edmund, it is not always what we do that gives us pleasure – there are times when more joy can be gathered from knowing someone else is loving a thing, than loving it yourself.”

Silence came from the young squire as the words Lady Kathryn spoke sunk in. “What does the inscription mean, then, Lady?” he asked.
“Read it, please,” she said, memories of voices and smells coming over her. She remembered feeling the tears of her father landing on her face, the feel of his hands as they covered hers, the words he spoke, the embrace he gave, the love he gave to her.
“‘To my beloved daughter, Kathryn Eleniel, child of the stars. May you someday shine as bright as Elbrenhine, our beloved northern star,’” read Edmund.
“I was born in the night, the stars were especially beautiful that night, my father told me, and so he named me Eleniel, daughter of the stars. You know Elbrenhine,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips. “It was his dream, his hope, his faith, that I would someday see – and somehow, I’ve never quite dismissed it as strange. His belief that I would not be blind forever,” here she paused, “I don’t know. But somehow, it seems as if it would be, could be, true.”
“Truth,” repeated Edmund, a bit unconvinced. “Truth has a way of hiding itself from us, never letting us see it for what it really is. How can one find truth?”
“By seeking for it,” Kathryn said earnestly. “Seeking for it, never giving up. If you look for it long enough, it will come to you. Truth is truth, it can be nothing else.”
“Perhaps,” said Edmund, still without real confidence.
“Wait. And you will see. Truth has a sly sort of way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it, coming to face you head on. We can never be fully ready for it. In time, perhaps, we will be ready to see it. But can we truly understand it before we are ready?”
“Perhaps not,” Edmund conceded, though his voice showed it was not fully. “Perhaps, then, it is the true quest to seek out truth. But is that for everyone?”
“Truth comes on its own,” replied Kathryn. “You need not go on a quest, just wait for it in its own time.”
That evening after they both had retired, Kathryn lay on her bed. She had not spoken that much for quite a while. What was it about this boy? He seemed different than anyone she had met. And there was something about his voice – something she had heard before. But where? And when? And why did it seem so important to know?

He stood there, tall, and proud, his golden hair rippling over his shoulders. His blue eyes gleamed with an evil glint in the sun. He was Orlando DiCaprio, Duke of the Seventeens. The Seventeens were a group of seventeen towns, called that long ago. The reason was lost amongst myth and legend, and now, what ever was the truth could not be discerned.

Beneath him, as he stood on the hill, he could see the army gathering there. It was not as well trained as he would have liked, but he currently only had the support of the Seventeens. He placed his hand on the hilt of his broadsword, wrapping his fingers around the handle, squeezing them around it, feeling the familiar coldness and hardness of the metal hilt. He felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as he grasped the cool steel and unsheathed it, bringing it to shine in the sun.

The sword seemed to be without perfection upon first glance. The cold and hard of the steel shone as the sun’s rays bounced off. The brown leather wrapped about the handle felt rough in his hands, reminding him of the harshness of battle. The green stone at the end of the hilt shone, reminding him that his underlings must never learn envy and jealousy.

Orlando turned his attention from his broadsword to the troops. His second-in-command, Hayden Potter, a man with short brown hair was assembling them. Orlando sighed. Then he straightened up. Training would begin. His pre-trained army was ready to advance, Bonjon leading them. If all went according to plan, King Eldor should awake to find a nasty surprise in two days. If all went well. If all did not, certain people would pay.

The Duke strode over to his horse and mounted quickly. Slapping the rein against the creature’s back, he galloped down the hill. When he reached the bottom, he motioned sharply for Potter to follow him, dismounted and strode purposefully into his tent. This army must be ready soon. He couldn’t give the king time to prepare for another assault.

He looked up from the map of Elenaesia as Hayden Potter came and stood in the entry of the tent. A sharp nod of his head told Potter all he needed to know. Walking with a purposeful stride, he came over to the table, and looked at the map. Without further ado, DiCaprio began to speak.

“This,” he said, as he placed a marker over a dot on the map, “Is Aiulindale. To the west and the south, is Ge’irdae. Bonjon and the battalion he is leading will be assaulting Ge’irdae the day after tomorrow. By the time word reaches Eldor at Aiulindale, we need to already be on the move. If a messenger can get away from Ge’irdae at the soonest possible point, he should reach Aiulindale before morning. That means that we have two days to get this army moving. You shall take one battalion and follow the path of Bonjon. Binks will take a battalion and go the easterly route. He will attack the small towns in the way, and will lay assault on Eirtue and Minelido. Bonjon will switch tactics after the assault on Ge’irdae, and take a central path. I will remain here, with another battalion, should Eldor do the improbable and bring the battle directly to the Seventeens. I doubt that will be the case however.”
“If he does, what then, m’lord?” asked Potter.
“Then I meet him in battle, Potter. I am not afraid of him. He will see it. The battle plan shows it. He cannot risk harming more of the Seventeens than he can get away with, since I hold much of the agriculture and trading ports in my grip. I have only to expand my fist but a bit, and all of Elenaesia will be mine. Once I hold Aiulindale, I hold Elenaesia. And once I hold the torc, I hold the people. They will be bound to me.”
“M’lord,” questioned Potter slowly. “Since the king holds both the torc and Aiulindale, does he not hold both the people and the land?”
“He is not the true king!” snapped DiCaprio.
“How do you prove that you are?”
“If it does not glow for me, I will take care of matters privately, Potter. Prepare your battalion for marching. You have one day. You must be out of here before dawn the day after tomorrow. If all goes according to plan, we shall be sitting in Aiulindale with Elenaesia in my grip by this time two months from now.”

With a nod Orlando DiCaprio, Duke of the Seventeens, dismissed his second-in-command. Yes indeed, if all went well he would have his fist wrapped around all of Elenaesia. If he could somehow get the torc sooner, then he would have a stronger offense. But first, he must speak with Draziw. He must find out if it would work . . .

Chapter Thirty - The Bittersweet

2004-11-08T16:36:00.000-08:00

“You will fail, Valerahyme. Why even bother, when you know that it is pointless, that it is fruitless? It is but a waste of your time and energy. I am the most powerful Varnhyme alive.”
“There are but two of us, Varderahyme. Consider it not an accomplishment, for you are but older, with more experience. You may hold more power now, but you are also old. I am in the prime of my years, in the flower of my youth. Do you really think that you can beat me, Varderahyme?”
“I do not think, my young Valerahyme, I only know.”
“Yet the future is but a possible one. The choices we make effect our future. Unless you think that you are beyond that, you are above that, you are more worthy then that.”
“You sound as though you would not expect it of me, Valerahyme. Naturally I am. I am above it, I am beyond it, and I am most definitely more worthy than it. I am I, the lord of the Varnhyme. All shall fear me, and serve me! All shall bend their knee to me, from the poorest beggar to the greatest emperor. For I will control all.”
“Perhaps it would be best if you did not count your chickens before they hatched, Varderahyme. And perhaps your ego is larger than it should be.”
“Perhaps you have more wit than you should have, Valerahyme. It does not befit a woman to have any wit. But then, you are not a woman.”
“Then what am I, Varderahyme? What am I, if not a woman?”
“You, my dear Valerahyme, are but a servant of my will.”
“That part is debated, but nonetheless I am a woman.”
“No, you are but the spawn of those who have been utterly destroyed. You can not call yourself a woman. For that implies honour. And honour, Valerahyme, is something which you have not one single strand of. You are honourless, Valerahyme. You are dishonourable!”
“You speak of that which you do not know, Varderahyme.”
“That is what they would like you to believe. But come with me, let me show you things for what they really are.”
“And who, may I ask, are ‘they’?”
“They are those to whom you appear to be serving, those to whom you falsely believe you are serving, the fool pretender Eldor, the pitiful excuse for a knight, Paulo, and the others. Join me, and together we can defeat DiCaprio! He can not rule without my help, indeed he cannot win this battle without my help. Do you not wish to come? Do you not wish power? Come with me Valerahyme, let me show you what you have only gotten a taste of here.”
“I will not go with you, Varderahyme, even if it means my death.”
“Do you not fear death, Valerahyme? If you but fear it, let me show you what it is, pull off its cloak of mystery, show you the secrets of life. If you but come with me, you will see for yourself all the mysteries of creation, that I alone do know and understand. Together we can spread the word, and educate and enlighten those lesser beings who populate this place.”
“I will not join you, Varderahyme!”
“Then you will kneel before me, begging for mercy! Make your choice!”
“I have! And I choose this!”

She pulled her mind away from her powers, she pushed it into the unwary and unwarned mind of Draziw. Murmuring silently in the ancient language, she twisted his unprotected mind with hers. Silently moving her lips, calling on the power vested in her, and the power she had developed with telepathy, she slowly twisted his mind. Then, right when she felt his defences coming back up again, she moved deeper, into the very essence of the brain itself, and pulled it. As she pulled, he pushed her away, yet pulling back too. With one final yank with her mind, and one final thought, and one final murmur of the ancient language, she withdrew herself, tumbling to the ground. She had just enough strength to watch his body slowly crack and tumble to the ground, a column of smoke rising from where he had stood. Her job was finished. Then, blackness overcame her.

Edmund and DiCaprio looked up, as a large crack echoed throughout the entire countryside. There they saw where once Draziw Varnhyme had stood, the remnants of a pillar of smoke rising to the sky. DiCaprio turned in harsh anger against Edmund. He felt that his mind was no longer his, but he did not carry. Uttering a scream at the top of his lungs, he swung his mighty sword. Filled with some unknown strength, Edmund raised his sword and blocked the blow. He felt a shudder ring through him, as the swords shook against each other. Then, he immediately changed the swing. There he stood, numb, as he watched the Duke collapse at his feet. He withdrew his sword from the body of the dead Duke of the Seventeens.

Pausing but a moment to wipe the blood off of his sword, he rushed back to the main battle. It was all confusing to him, it seemed that some of the soldiers of the Seventeens were fighting others and yet they were all fighting the soldiers of the king. Glancing briefly around he saw one familiar face. He ran towards it, than stopped in horror, as the face twisted in pain and sank slowly to the ground.

“Sir Paulo!” he cried as he ran towards the knight, and immediately slew the man who had slain his knight. He then dropped to his knees beside the fallen lord, and cradled the head of the knight in his lap.
“Edmund!” came a cry from Octavian who had just come up. “Thank heavens you are not dead! The enemy is falling back into confusion. But come quickly, you must come! It is the King . . . he has not long to live I believe.”

Edmund glanced up at Octavian, and saw the pain etched into his face. Octavian had loved Eldor like a father, and Eldor had loved Octavian as a son. He nodded as he lay Sir Paulo on the ground. He stood up and placed his sword back in his sheath. Then he followed Octavian to where Yoran stood beside the fallen King. The other Knights of the Eleven were gathered nearby. Edmund went forward and knelt by the King. Eldor opened his eyes and looked at Edmund.

“Hand me, your sword, please,” he whispered. Edmund did not protest, but unsheathed his sword and carefully handed it to King Eldor. Then, very carefully, Eldor lightly tapped Edmund on each shoulder with the flat of the sword. “By the power vested in me, and as King of Elenaesia, do I dub thee, Edmund, knight.”

He fell back onto the cot they had laid him on, and let the sword fall. Edmund picked up, and sheathed it. Eldor raised his hand and placed it on Edmund’s head. Then he spoke a blessing.

“May you rule Elenaesia well, Edmund King. May you have the Light before you, and the Light behind you. The Light on your left side, and the Light on your right side. May you rule well, and may your reign be prosperous.”

With those words, the light passed from Eldor, King of Elenaesia. He lay peacefully as if in sleep, the last of his line to rule from the throne of Elenaesia. Edmund knelt there for a time, holding Eldor’s other hand in his. So much had happened over the past few days, few weeks. So much had happened, so much gained, and so much lost. He had gained a kingdom, yet lost his king and father figure. How much more must be lost before peace could once again engulf Elenaesia? How much more must they do? How many more lives must be sacrificed?

At long last he rose and turned towards the knights gathered around. They all dropped to one knee and announced their allegiance to him. Yoran was the first, followed closely by Octavian and the rest of the knights. Edmund nodded in appreciation to them. Then he remembered the standard tradition of Elenaesia. He beckoned to Octavian.

“Octavian, please, kneel,” he said quietly. Octavian nodded and knelt in front of Edmund, proffering his sword. Edmund took it, and slowly tapped each of Octavian’s shoulders. Then he repeated the words spoken to him by Eldor, just a few minutes before.

“By the power vested in me, as King of Elenaesia, I dub thee knight. Please rise, Sir Octavian. As was instated in the earliest annals of Elenaesian history I do hereby declare Sir Octavian Head Knight of the Eleven. So let it be written, so let it be done.”

Just then an officer ran up to them. He dropped on one knee before Edmund, and waited for the acknowledgement before he began to speak.

“What news do you have?” asked Edmund quickly.
“My lord King Edmund,” the man began. “We have captured one General Binks. He says he is second in command to Orlando DiCaprio. Or was, my liege.”
“Bring him to me,” commanded Edmund. “I wish to speak with him.”

A few minutes later, soldiers of Elenaesia brought the once proud general of the Seventeens, Binks Vizzini, into the presence of Edmund, their new king. With a sharp nod from Edmund, they bowed and left.

“So, you are the king?” asked Binks as Edmund gestured for him to sit down.
“Yes, now, more or less,” responded Edmund.
“You and I have seemed to trade places, you know? There are a few minor differences, such as you being in complete command, whereas I was only second in command. But you and I, my friend, have traded from being in command to being prisoner."

Chapter Twenty Nine - Showdown

2004-11-08T16:32:00.001-08:00

Mara and Cynthia flew above the battle glancing down. Cynthia drew a sharp intake of breath as she watched the scene being played beneath her. There was the Varnhyme of the enemy, standing tall, his eyes glowing green, a startling contrast to the white of his beard and the midnight blue of his robe. It was if he was making the rocks of the ground dance in the heavens, and then falling as rain or hail or sleet onto the ground below. Yet when taking a closer look, Cynthia realised that it was not the ground to which he was dropping it on, but rather the heads and bodies of the soldiers in the army of King Eldor.

“Varderahyme!” she called below to him. “Varderahyme! Hear my voice, o messenger to the Faithful! Hear my voice, o Varnhyme, listen to me!” Then she turned to Mara. “Let me down, Mara, I must face him, and I must face him alone. Do what you can to help. May the Ruler of All be with us today.”

Mara nodded once and flew down closer, close enough for Cynthia to dismount. Before she turned to face the Varnhyme, she gave Mara a brief hug.

“Fly well, fight hard, and may you be blessed. For the King!” she murmured to Mara. Then she turned her attention back to the Varnhyme that stood before her.

“So, you have come to me at last, Valerahyme. As I knew you would. You shall one day kneel before me.”
“No, Varderahyme, I will not kneel before you. Nor will I serve you. You can not attack these soldiers any longer, Varderahyme.”
“Oh? Why not? Who will stop me?” he said tauntingly. “I have yet to see you use your powers, save to escape from those who are following you.”
“I will stop you, Varderahyme.” Then, she lifted her arms, and raised her head, her eyes turning from blue to green.
“You would dare to stop ME, Valerahyme? Think again, but you will kneel, and you will serve me. It is but a matter of time.”

Then he too lifted his arms, and raised his head, and his eyes also turned from their blue to a green. The battle of the Varnhyme had begun. The battle spoken of in prophecies of ancient lore, the battle that would seal the fate of the Varnhyme forever.

General Binks nodded to the soldiers who stood there. Together they rushed towards the army of King Eldor. With clashing of metal against metal, steel against steel, the swung their swords intent upon defeating their foe. Screaming shouts of “Duck!” they dove for cover as the beautiful ruby Ligon soared close to the ground.

She landed near King Eldor, where Octavian and Yoran were. Yoran immediately skewered the soldier nearest him with his embroidery needle, and bowed deeply to Mara.

“Where is Edmund?” Mara asked quickly, looking around.
“Over there he is,” said Yoran, nodding in the direction of the two fighting. “Fighting with DiCaprio, he is, a duel to the death.”
“Why?” said Mara, her red eyes glaring towards Edmund and DiCaprio. “He should not, he can not be that foolish.”
“Foolish or not, we can not dissuade him. It is his path to take, it is his destiny he must follow,” said Octavian.
“Indeed. Whether for good or for ill, at least we do not have DiCaprio personally attacking us,” nodded King Eldor.
“Then let us not waste the opportunity. Our friend General Binks seems intent on destroying us. Should we grant to him that pleasure?”
“Not today,” said Octavian, lifting his sword. “Today we fight! For Elenaesia and for the King!”

Octavian and Yoran together rushed at the enemy, calling on the soldiers of Elenaesia to aid them as they went about their attack. Today they would fight. They would not fail. They would fight with every last breath that was in them. They would defeat DiCaprio and his army, or they would die trying.

Edmund clenched his sword tighter, and spun, bringing his sword up to deflect the blow being sent by DiCaprio. He then swung his sword at the Duke, only to have DiCaprio parry and knock the sword away. Edmund twisted out of the way of the Duke’s next stroke and responded with one of his own.

At least this is keeping the Duke away from the rest of battle, he decided. I have to do it, to do it for Octavian, for Yoran, for King Eldor. And, for Kathryn. If not for anyone else, at least for Kathryn. I could not bear for her to live with DiCaprio as the king. All I want is the strength to defeat him, the strength to help us win.

Cynthia called upon all of her strength. She felt the wind blowing about her, threatening to blow her over.

“Wind of the skies, listen to my voice! Wind of the skies, hear thou my cry! Return from whence you came, trouble us no more! Ground of the earth, listen to my voice! Ground of the earth, hear thou my cry! Render unto thyself a crack, swallow up those who make ill use of their power, give unto them the satisfaction which they deserve to get.”
“Water of the heavens, listen to my voice! Water of the heavens, hear thou my cry! Fill these cracks with water, let them be full! Wind of the skies, listen to my voice! Wind of the skies, hear thou my cry! Return here, and use thou thy power to freeze up this water, and turn the cracks to ice!”

A battle between the two wills continued. Each one trying to outdo the other, each one being forced to think more and more creatively then they ever had before. Each one knowing that the outcome of this battle could determine the outcome of the battle all around. Cynthia held on, if only by sheer will power, and the passion for what she was doing. If she could destroy Draziw, she could save countless women and girls and babes throughout Elenaesia, those who were condemned to death for no reason other than their names. If she could destroy Draziw, she could help ensure victory for King Eldor. She could help ensure victory for Elenaesia, and defeat for Orlando DiCaprio, Duke of the Seventeens.

Releasing some of her mind briefly from her concentration on Draziw, she reached out towards the mind of a General Pevensie. Reaching into his thoughts, she twisted and cajoled, whispered and murmured. Then, satisfied with her work, she withdrew from his thoughts, and immediately had to bring all her strength to bear onto concentrating on Draziw.

“Fall back, fall back!” called General Pevensie to his men. “Fall back, I say! Turn towards the main part of the army of General Binks and charge with full might. Charge, I say, charge! Attack the infidel and traitor of a self styling General Binks Vizzini! Send him down to the depths! We shall prevail!”

The soldiers had been trained to obey, not to question their orders, so they obediently turned and charged into the soldiers under the command of General Binks, and began to attack them. At first General Binks’ soldiers were confused, but then they grew angry. Responding the only way they knew how, they began to defend themselves and attack General Pevensie’s men with great fervour and hatred.

“What is going on?” cried General Binks as he looked in dismay at the rather large amount of disarray that met his eyes. “What is happening? Why are the men under the command of General Pevensie attacking the men under my command? Why are we attacking each other? We have a common enemy we must unite against! What will Duke DiCaprio, er, King Orlando think if he finds this out?”

Chapter Fourteen - A Thrill of Hope

2004-11-08T16:32:00.000-08:00

Eldor, King of Elenaesia, looked up as the old knight entered the tent.

“Sir Rupert!” he cried. “What a pleasure to see you! But what brings you here?”
“Is this turn of events not enough to warrant my coming, my lord king?” Sir Rupert asked with a bow. “I trust that I find your majesty in good health.”
“Quite excellent health, Sir Rupert. Please, please, be seated. You appear to be doing quite well yourself.”
“Thank you, Bob. I am feeling quite spry lately, as a matter of fact.”
“That’s wonderful, Sir Rupert. But, my name is not . . . Bob.”
“My apologies your majesty. My memory fails me a little on names. But come now, I hear there is a war on.”
“Quite true Sir Rupert. The Duke of the Seventeens has, shall we say, produced behaviour that is rather suspectful of treason, and he had launched an attack upon Ge’irdae. They left without a fight however, once they were discovered by scouts from Ge’irdae. We are riding out to meet him. It is a pity you had to come to us at this time.”
“Quite the contrary, Bob, my old friend. I am very glad to have happened upon you at this hour then. I am still one of the Eleven, am I not?”
“Yes indeed, Sir Rupert. You are still one of the Eleven. And the old friend of Eldor your king,” he snuck in a subtle reminder to his true name, a lesson he had learned from paying close attention to his wife, Queen Raelle.
“Then, why should I be denied the privilege to fight along side my king, Lord Eldor? I am fit, and able to grasp a sword. Let me fight, Bob. I would rather die with a sword in my hand on the battlefield then of age lying on a bed with fussy nurses bleeding me.”
“I understand your position, Sir Rupert. I know that you are very loyal to your country, and to your king , but . . .”
“No buts, Bob, my friend, no buts. You see, I will fight, with our without your permission. Come Bob, you know me well enough now, nigh on what, forty, fifty somewhat years? Do you really think that denying me your blessing will stop me?”

Eldor sighed, he knew that his old friend was right. Sir Rupert was not one to sit around if there was a battle going on, and even the strictest order from his king would not prevent him from joining the fray. “I give you my blessing, then, my old friend. Go get some rest before the sun rises.”

Binks Vizzini, General of the Army of the Seventeens under Orlando DiCaprio, once Duke of the same, now styling himself as King of Elenaesia, looked around the next morning. All was ready to go. Vladisk had finally come up with a path that would work for them, and the army was ready to move. All that they need now was his signal. A quick jerk of his head, and the army was off.

“Vladisk,” he called over to the burly man astride a horse that seemed to fit the soldier.
“Yes, General Binks?” the husky voice responded as the giant of a man rode over towards his general.
“There is a fork in the path here, which should we take, Vladisk?”
“Whichever one you see best, General Binks.”
“What’s your opinion on the matter though?” Binks asked with a sigh.
“Whatever you want to do is what I want to do, General Binks. Your word is my command. I hear and obey, General Binks.”
“VLADISK! I want your opinion, and I want it now. Will the left-hand path take us too close to Minelido, or is it safe to take it? Answer me with your TRUTHFUL and HONEST opinion, do I make myself clear?”
“Yes General Binks. Of course, General Binks. I do not believe the path on the left hand side will take us too close to Minelido. We should be able to take that path without any mishaps occurring, General Binks.”
“I don’t want should, Vladisk. Nor will I accept it. I need to know, and I need to have a definite answer. I cannot risk the long term problems that there is a possibility of being faced with if we are discovered by scouts from there. I need a definite answer, Vladisk.”
“Yes, General Binks. I shall do so, General Binks. Let me compute the risks, first.”
“Do so, then, Vladisk.”

After a few minutes, with the fork in the road growing steadily closer and closer, Vladisk looked up from his hands. He had been concentrating on them while deep in thought.

“There will be no risk posed to us, General Binks. It is safe to travel on the left hand side.”
“Are you willing to stake your life on that, Vladisk?”
“Yes, General Binks. I am always willing to stake my life for you.”
“Bah, humbug,” muttered Binks. “Announce it then to the lieutenants and captains, we will take the left fork.”

Cynthia rode the horse that had been waiting for her at the gate out from Merisna away, north towards Aiulindale. She did not glance behind her, for fear of the sorrow that she kept boiled inside. She could not let it overflow, the King had to be warned of the treachery of the Duke. Suddenly, her eyes picked up a movement ahead, she could barely make out the figure of another rider. Or was it only one? She could not be sure, but it looked like it was more than one. No matter, she had time to think of an excuse before she reached them. Perhaps she could invent a relative in Aiulindale.

“Ho there!” cried one of the riders, a man dressed in black armour, like the other three riders. “Where are you going, young miss?”
“I have to go to Aiulindale,” Cynthia explained, her heart beating in her chest.
“Oh, really missy?” asked the first one again. “And might I ask what the reason for that might be?”
“I have a family member there, she’s ill, I have to go for her, she sent for me, you see,” explained Cynthia, trying not to rush the words.
“Likely story miss,” the rider said. “So, I’ll have to take you to the Duke himself.”
“All the way back to Merisna?” Cynthia said, her heart falling within her.
“Nothing quite so heart rendering, my little missy. The Duke isn’t in Merisna right now. We shall take you to his camp. Come along, we have not got that much time to waste.”

Barely nodding she followed them, her mind racing over the endless possibilities, but one thought standing out amidst the flood of others. She was going to be led to the last person she wanted to see. The man who had vowed to kill her, and all the others who bore her name, or a variation of it. How would she escape from this?

Edmund, Kathryn, Jessica, and Yoran rode northwards towards the Drimvue Forest in peace and quiet. The only sounds were the occasional birds singing, or a bee buzzing from the nearby flowers. There were only a few clouds in the sky, much nicer than the wet rainy day when they had first met Yoran. Suddenly Edmund heard Jessica scream.

“What is it?” he cried turning his upper body towards her.

She pointed up, her face pale, and screamed again as a huge winged beast flew low above her, nearly clipping her with its hooves.

“Pegasi!” shouted Edmund at the top of his lungs. “Ride! Ride hard!”
“No good will it do,” cautioned Yoran. “No matter how hard you ride, catch you they still will. Wings they have, while only hooves do the horses have.”
“But is there then nothing we can do?” asked Kathryn, her voice still steady and calm, like the anchor of a ship during a storm.
“Nothing has been done, Lady Kathryn,” said Yoran. “Know I do not of a suitable option to try. Work it will not, for outrace the Pegasi of the air, no one can.”

Suddenly, the Pegasi swooped downwards again, each grabbing one of the riders in their mouths. Kathryn felt her heart fly up as she was grabbed by she knew not what. No, she knew it was indeed a Pegasus, a winged horse, but more than that she did not know. Only that Pegasi were said to take one to their dens in the mountains or forests. After that they were never heard from again. What was done to those captured by Pegasi no one knew, for no one lived to tell the tale. But she did not give up hope. She had held hope in her hands her entire life, it was what gave her the strength to get up each day and live. Hope was what she had built her life around, hope, and faith. The two most important things in her life, and she would not let them go easily.

Chapter Sixteen - One of the Varnhyme

2004-11-08T16:30:00.000-08:00

The sun set beyond the Amandu Mountains, and the stars twinkled in the sky. Cynthia, or Jocelyn as her alias was here, looked up at the jewels in the heavens. Night fell around the camp, and enveloped the camp in darkness. The only sound was that of cricket’s chirping, and the hushed voices of those on guard.

“North to Aiulindale, or south to Merisna? Where would they look first?”

The soldiers jumped startled, as they heard a soft voice coming from the direction of the large oak tree outside of camp. They turned to each other surprised, and listened closely to what the voice said.

“I can’t go back to Merisna, the Duke, or King, has soldiers there. They’d be sure to find me. My only choice is to go onward to Aiulindale, and take my chances with them following. Unless I wanted to risk going to the Amandu Mountains. Going east would be out of the question, I would run into that garrison there.”

The soldiers turned to each other in shock and astonishment. One spoke to the others in a quiet, yet amazed voice.

“She must have escaped. Fan out. We need to get her back.”
“Should some of us stay here sir?”
“That would probably be be . . .” he felt a small tugging on his mind, “ . . . tter if you helped us search for Jocelyn, or whoever she is. I don’t think the King will be too happy if she’s escaped.”
“You are most likely correct, sir.”
“Very well then, let us search for her. If you find her, holler.”
“Yes sir.”

The soldiers spread off, searching around for the missing prisoner. And the girl on the ground slowly opened her eyes. They still gleamed green in the dark. She could tell by a soldier’s cry that something with green eyes was out there. She instantly shut them again. Moving slowly away from where she had been lying, her hands bound at the wrists, she kept them closed for five whole minutes, counting them out under her breath. Once five minutes were up, she opened them, and knew they had returned to their usual grey.

Waiting a few more minutes for the sounds of the soldiers’ voices to grow quieter, she glanced up at the sky. Quickly noticing the position of Elbrenhine, she pushed herself to her feet, and moving stealthily through the night air, she followed it north. She made slow progress, pausing every now and again, closing her eyes before the emerald green of them shone to brightly, and moved her lips, throwing her voice in the direction she wanted it to go. Then she reached out and gently tweaked the thoughts of some of the soldiers. It would be dangerous to do it without her eyes closed in the night, the gleam of the emerald would give away her location. She sighed, and wished she could do it with them open, it would be easier that way. Cynthia Varnhyme, what are you thinking? Wishing for that which you cannot have. Make use of what you have got, and do not complain about what you have not. You are a Varnhyme, Use what you have learned without wanting for more.

Morning dawned bright and clear over Elenaesia. Edmund awoke after a less then relaxing night, he was awake for half of it, and the half when he did sleep, he did not sleep very well. He heard snatches of conversation between Kathryn, Jessica, and Yoran, but waited a few minutes before forcing his eyes to open. And then immediately closed them. Then he opened them again, and blinked, staring at the sight.

“Believe I do,” said Yoran, “that a Ligon before us we do see.”
“I think Yoran’s right, Edmund,” Jessica murmured.

Kathryn remained calm, remembering the hope and faith she had that they would restore peace to Elenaesia, and not allow it to be torn asunder by civil war.

“What do you propose we do then?” she asked. “We are in no position to do anything as far as I can tell.”
“Kathryn’s right,” agreed Edmund. “There’s nothing we can do. Other than hope the Pegasi do not drop us.”

The brilliant ruby red of the Ligon flashed in front of them as she circled around the Pegasi, forcing them to fly lower and lower to the ground. She snorted, and red orange flames flew out of her mouth, and smoke breathed out of her nostrils. She, for they had concluded it was indeed a She-ligon, made hissing sounds at the Pegasi, and clawed at them with one of her paws in the air. Her huge wings were spread out, and she soared above them, flying closer to the Pegasi than ever before. Finally, in sheer fright, the Pegasi released the four of them onto the ground, and flew away, much faster now that they no longer carried their burdens.

Edmund rolled over onto his back, and then slowly sat up. He pushed his hair back out of his face, and looked around him. The other three members of their company were also on the ground nearby.

“Is anyone hurt?” he asked quickly, checking over himself as he spoke.

The girls responded that they had a slight bump or two on the head, but were fine. Yoran seemed to be in perfect condition, but Edmund knew that there was at least one injury somewhere on the squirrel.

“Now what do we do?” asked Jessica.
“Well, we should probably look for the lair of that Ligon we saw. Remember what Heather the Sage said? Look in the lair of the Ligon called Mara. We’re in a forest. We saw a Ligon. Who is to say that this isn’t the Forest of the Ligon of which the Sage spoke?”
“Believe that Edmund is correct, I do,” said Yoran. “Search we must if to find the Stone of the King we are.”
“Then let us begin our search,” said Kathryn, slowly standing with the help of her sister.
“Shall we go north?” Edmund asked Yoran.
“The best course of action I believe that would be.”
“Then let us be off.”

“We are not in a position to be able to dance off to Eirtue, and still be able to face the Duke head on, my lord king!” protested Sir Taliesin.
“I am afraid I must agree with Sir Taliesin, my liege. It is not in our best interests to gallivant over there, when we know from experience that the Duke will meet us head on here,” agreed Sir Caspian.
“But that is what concerns me. We have seen him in battle, against Microsia. But would he not know that we know how he fought then? What he uses as battle tactics and plans?” queried Sir Martin.
“By that do you mean that he may change what he uses just to catch us in a trap?” asked Sir Evyn.
“By my troth, I do not believe he would do such a thing,” said Sir Bedwyr.
“Well, Bob, it is possible. But I think that we would most likely meet him head on. That is what I have known him to do,” said Sir Rupert.
“That is my problem,” Sir Geminad cried. “His tactics have shown him to attack head on. If that is the case, what does he wish to accomplish by taking Eirtue?”
“The failure of the attack on Ge’irdae would not be enough to sway him from this path,” cautioned Sir Flavus.
“Would he want to be taking over Ge’irdae and Eirtue, to gain more power?” asked Sir Taran.
“Why do we not go back to Aiulindale and wait there?” asked Sir Thanet.

Sir Paulo remained silent, and studied King Eldor intently as he listened to the other ten knights of the Eleven voice their opinions and concerns. The concerns were valid, and the opinions were not invalid. The king raised his hands and motioned for the knights to quiet down.

“That is enough,” he said slowly. “I have heard what you have had to say. Sir Paulo, what have you to say on this matter?”
“I could say everything that has been said, from retreating back to Aiulindale, to questioning the wisdom of staying here instead of going to Eirtue, to saying that the best option is staying here.”
“Then you have no counsel to offer? No advice whatsoever?” asked King Eldor.
“Nay my lord King. I do have some counsel. It is up to you to heed it or not. There is nothing that we can do about Eirtue now, short of splitting the army or taking it all there. That I do not believe is a viable option. However, I do not believe it wise to leave Aiulindale completely undefended. We must send a small portion back.”
“You can spare that, but not enough for going to Eirtue?” Sir Flavus asked in astonishment.
“Eirtue is under attack, Sir Flavus. Aiulindale is not. We do not need to try and regain Aiulindale, like we would if we went to Eirtue. However, I believe that whatever else the Duke may have planned, he will most certainly come down here and attack us.”

Eldor nodded at last. “Very well then. I will make my decision. You may leave now. I will think over what you have said.”

Chapter Fifteen - A Puppet King

2004-11-08T16:27:00.000-08:00

“Dismount, missy,” the rider said sharply, glaring at Cynthia. She did so, with a nod and a smile, forcing herself to act as if she had nothing to worry about. Whatever she did, she could not give her name as Cynthia. She flicked her blonde hair out of her face, and followed the rider to the camp. The Duke sat in a velvet trimmed chair in his tent, two small tapestries graced the sides. She could tell he was doing more than calling himself king now.

“Bring her forward,” the stern faced Duke ordered the rider, who led her towards the Duke/King. “What are you doing travelling alone girl?”
“I am going to visit my sick relative in Aiulindale, my lord Duke,” she responded slowly and carefully, but not too slow as to arouse suspicion.
“You will not call me Duke girl. That title is obsolete. I am KING of Elenaesia.”
“Yes, my lord . . . king.”
“What is your name, and what is the name of your relative?”
“My name is Jocelyn, my lord king. My relative is my cousin Ariana.”
“Hmph. Likely story. Do you wish to infect Merisna and the Seventeens with whatever illness this Ariana may have?”
“I assure you, that is not my intention, my lord king. I only mean to aid her in her time of ill health.”
“Really? Why are you going alone?”
“I live alone, my lord king. And I do not wish to risk the health of anyone else.”
“If health is at risk, then I cannot let you go, you understand?”
“My lord king, I do not believe it is at risk. But I do not wish to unnecessarily run the risk of ill health being a result of this visitation.”
“But if there is a slight chance that there may be ill health as a result, I can not have your assurance that all will be fine. And if I cannot have that assurance, how can I know that you will not end up sick as well? And if that, what is to prevent all of Merisna from becoming ill?”
“My lord king, if there was a great risk to my health, I assure you, I would not be embarking on such a journey. I do not however wish to burden others with this journey.”
“Likely story indeed, Jocelyn. I hereby proclaim you guilty of espionage and treachery. You shall be hung from the neck tomorrow morning at dawn. Guards, take her into your custody. Good day then, Jocelyn. So let it be written, so let it be done!”

The small company was silent during the long flight northwards, for it seemed to be northwards. The flight seemed never ending. Where were these Pegasi taking them? What was it that they wanted with them? Would they ever return? Was the quest over before they had even reached the Ligon’s lair? Yet despite their fears and worries, they were still filled with awe as they soared above the land. It all looked small from here, as if it was a giant map.

They grew tired as the day wore on, and Edmund watched as Kathryn and Jessica allowed themselves to drift away into sleep. A look towards Yoran told him all he needed to know. The squirrel intended to continue their normal sleeping and watching procedure. With a slight nod at Yoran, he watched as the squirrel closed his eyes contentedly, and fell asleep. He sighed as he glanced about him. It was beginning to get chilly as the sun began to sink down west of the Amandu Mountains.

Gareth rushed into the camp of King Eldor breathing hard. He had been running for two days now, and was nearly out of energy. He collapsed in a heap in front of the second sentinel.

“Must . . . tell . . . the king . . .” he said slowly, his breath coming short as he spoke. “Attack . . . Eirtue . . . farms burnt . . . No hope . . . must surrender . . . Duke coming . . . tell the king!” he gasped at the shocked sentinel.
“Yes … sir!” the sentinel cried, and burst off at a run towards the royal pavilion, and saluted smartly to Octavian who stood outside. “The King needs to come quickly! A messenger from Eirtue has arrived, running all the way I beli . . . your majesty,” he finished with a bow.
“Messenger from Eirtue, you say?” the king asked, acknowledging the sentinel with a slight dip of his head. “Bring me to him.”
“Right this way your majesty,” the sentinel said, and led the king towards the messenger. Another soldier had brought food and drink for Gareth, and was helping him to sit up.
“Now, no need for formalities, young man. I understand you are from Eirtue. What is your name, and what news do you bring?”
“I am Gareth sir. I was barely able to slip past the army from the Seventeens.”
“From the Seventeens you say? Speak up lad, and quickly now.”
“Yes sir. A General Hayden Potter is in charge of the army, sent there by Duke DiCaprio, who is now proclaiming himself king of Elenaesia. They have completely destroyed the outlying farms from around Eirtue, nothing is left except charred burning rubble and ashes. They have surrounded the city, and are ordering her to surrender or to be destroyed.”
“This is not good. Get some rest, Gareth my boy. Octavian, send for the Eleven. We must meet immediately in my tent. Proclaimed himself king? This is going too far, Orlando, too far. What can you be thinking? What is it you want? Only the throne of Elenaesia? Whatever it may be, you may be sure that you will not get it without a fight.”

King Eldor walked back towards his tent, musing over what he had just learned. King of Elenaesia indeed. This would change his plans quite a bit. Quite a bit. But first he needed to meet with the Eleven and discuss things with them.

Hayden Potter rode back to the camp after repeating the challenge and threat to Eirtue again. He hoped they would cave in soon, and surrender. If not, they would be put to the sword. He would give them until tomorrow evening, and then they would begin the onslaught. Potter nodded to his advisors as they walked back to his tent. Upon entering, he unrolled the map onto the table and swiftly jabbed his dagger in one end of the map to hold it still. His eyes rested briefly on Lieutenant Pevensie, and then turned back to the map.

“General Binks Vizzini will be reaching Ge’irdae tomorrow night. Whether or not he will began attacking then, or in the morning is not known. What is known however, is that we must be in control of Eirtue by the evening of the day after tomorrow. Duke DiCapr . . . King Orlando will reach Minelido tomorrow afternoon or evening, if they leave at dawn. He will attack then. Thus it is imperative that we hold Eirtue by the evening after. Once that is done, we control the major cities outside of the Seventeens.”
“What about the Port of Glasgow, though, my lord General?” Captain Glearis asked.
“The Port of Glasgow will be easily dealt with once we hold Aiulindale in our hands. And that will come quickly once Eirtue, Minelido and Ge’irdae are held. Which will be shortly. After we take Eirtue, I will be leaving Captain Glearis with a section of the army here, and going to join King Orlando in Minelido. From there we will converge on Aiulindale, securing the throne. Are there any questions?”

Silence enveloped the room in its invisible tendrils. Then, Glearis looked up, and spoke softly.

“Do we really want Orlando DiCaprio on the throne of Elenaesia?”

Hayden Potter glanced about the room before responding, each of the others silently nodded their head in agreement. “I don’t know, Captain Glearis. What is it about him that gives you doubts to wanting him on the throne?”
“He is selfish, he is not easy to control, and he is ruthless. He will kill anyone, even his own wife if he had one, to accomplish his goals. Life means nothing to him.”
“Does life mean something to us?” Potter questioned.
“In some ways yes, but we would not kill family members for the reason of furthering us. There is always another way. And family is valued in Elenaesia.”
“What would you propose to do, then, Captain?” asked Potter.
“Select someone else to put on the throne. Let DiCaprio win us the throne, and dispose of him. Then we have reign over whom it goes too. We can choose someone to put up there, someone who follows Elenaesia’s values, and is easy for us to control.”
“What do the rest of you think?” Potter asked, turning to the others gathered. All nodded their heads and voiced an approvement of the matter. “Any nominations on who we could choose to be our puppet king?”

Chapter Twenty - Faded Fading Into Light

2004-11-08T16:11:00.000-08:00

Edmund fell to his knees beside the fallen lady, his tears blinding him to her face. He did not hear the hushed murmurs of the cat and the Ligon, all he could think of was that he had failed in guarding Kathryn. She was dead, dead by the flames of the fiery breath of the Ligon. His tears fell onto her face.

Then, she blinked, and turned her eyes toward Edmund. Suddenly she realized that she could see him. She saw the tears streaming down his face. Reaching her hand up, she brushed them from her eyes, and whispered.

“I can see, Edmund, I can see.”

Yoran turned towards her from where he had been comforting Jessica, and Jessica looked up from her hands where she had buried her face. Edmund let his sword and shield clatter to the floor, as he stared down in surprise at Kathryn. They saw that her face remained unblemished, no sign of being burnt was on it. Her blue grey eyes shone with a new light. All was silent, until the voice of the Ligon broke the overhanging silence.

“Faded fading into light, daytime springing out of night,” the Ligon said softly.

Edmund sprang up again, his sword once more in his hand. He turned towards the Ligon, his eyes seeming to pierce her scales.

“You knew that? How did you know?” he asked.
“I am Mara the Ligon,” she said, turning her ruby head towards him. “One does not ask how I know, be content that I know. So the Prophecy is true then? This is what the Prophecy meant?”
“I, I do not know,” said Edmund, frowning a little. “I did not quite understand the Prophecy myself.”

Then a mist seemed to roll into the cave. They all turned towards the mouth, Jessica helping Kathryn to sit up. Out from the mist floated the Sage, her feet bare, her white hair flowing softly in an unfelt breeze.

“The Prophecy has begun,” she said, the symphony of her voice playing softly to their ears. “The days of the True King are coming, they are at hand. They are on the threshold. Remember, the Prophecy has begun, and it does not work backwards. You have no choice but to go forwards from here. Should you try to turn back, you will bring ruin not only to yourself, but to Elenaesia. You will not die, but you will be forced to live, to watch the ruin slowly engulf Elenaesia, silently blaming yourself for it all the while. Behold, the wheels are turning!”

Then, she silently floated away, the mist rolling in about her, closing the curtains after the performance of a play. The mist faded, and the scent of heather and sage and other herbs hung in the air after her, the unseen mark of her visit.

“What brought you here?” asked the cat who sat in the corner.
“Yes, Klicati, good question,” agreed Mara.
“We are seeking the Stone of the King,” Edmund said quickly.

Klicati hissed. “Why are you seeking that?”
“The King will be known by the glowing of the torc and the Stone,” Kathryn said, taking everything in, rejoicing in her sight. “The Duke of the Seventeens has challenged King Eldor’s right to the throne, and we are searching for the Stone, to establish who the true king is.”
“Sent we were,” said Yoran, “to the lair of Mara the Ligon. Sent here by Heather the Sage we were. Find the Stone of the King we must.”

Mara remained quiet, pondering the words they said to her. Should she give up the Stone without any further delay, let them save Elenaesia, or so they said? Or should she make them pay for it? Or rather, take one as hostage until the Stone was returned? Or better yet, have them pass a test? That brought up another problem though, what was test to be? An idea came to her, and she smiled inwardly.

“Very well then, young squire,” she said to Edmund. “Help yourself to my treasure, and find the Stone of the King.”

Orlando DiCaprio paced the room of the house he was in. He looked down on the streets of Minelido briefly, saw fear etched in each one’s face. All was as it should be. That is, with the exception of the absence of General Potter and General Binks. That was not right. They should be here. He sighed, and continued his pacing. Then the door opened, and two men appeared. He looked up, and saw that General Binks had arrived with Draziw. DiCaprio glared at them, and jerked his head towards some seats.

“Sit. What took you so long to arrive? I have been waiting all morning for you!” he cried in anger.
“Look we came as fast as we could,” explained General Binks sharply. “It takes a little while to get an army together and ready to march, while leaving instructions for those you left behind. Not to mention getting here from Ge’irdae. It is not easy, you know. If you don’t like what happened, then you should try doing it yourself.”
“How dare you speak to your king in such a manner?” roared DiCaprio. “I will not stand for this!”
“Yes, my lord King Orlando,” Binks said quietly.

The room lapsed into silence again, as DiCaprio shot glares in the general direction of Binks, and avoided looking towards Draziw at all. Draziw returned the favour, utterly ignoring DiCaprio, and only upon occasion shooting a glance towards General Binks. Then, amidst the silence, they heard a shriek, a cry of now, and a scream of pain. Sounds of tears soon followed, and the cry of a broken heart, only to be replaced by the sounds of the tramping of the soldiers’ feet.

“What was that?” asked Binks in surprise.
“That, General Binks, was the sound of a woman or girl dying.”
“Yes, yes, I realized that, your majesty. But what happened?”
“Her throat was probably slit, or head chopped off, or other such death.”
Binks rolled his eyes. “That was not quite what I had in mind. What has she done? What was special about her?”
“Nothing. Nothing, save that her name was Cindy. And that is enough for her to die. I have issued the order of all unnamed maid children, and all women and girls named Cindy or Cynthia or a variation of that name to be instantly put to death. Throughout all of my kingdom.”
“Including Eldor’s daughter? Cynthyana?” asked Draziw, speaking for the first time.
“Yes, including Cynthyana. Why should I care? It is not my relation that is dying. And the people, Draziw, the people are of no importance. They are not worth it, General Binks. They are but pawns on the chessboard, you move them for what you need, and if they die you ignore that death.”
“But though they may die, and are but pawns, upon reaching the other side they may even attain the rank of queen,” said Hayden Potter as he entered the room. “And so it is here. You may move the people as you see fit, to gain what you need to gain, but in the end, if you kill them all, who do you have left to rule? You cannot keep your bishops, castles, or knights forever on the chessboard, or even your queen. You must do something, and if you are left alone, then you are a king with nothing save title.”
“It took you long enough to get here,” snarled DiCaprio. “Sit down. I do not care what you think. I am the king, and it is I who make the orders. Spare me from your talks of philosophy and chess. How often have you given them to me when I was but Duke of the Seventeens? What have you done now, that I should heed your counsel? Think on it, but do not tarry long. I have called you here today to discuss our plan of attack against that usurping pretender, Eldor, and the army that is sure to be coming from Aiulindale. We have already had knowledge that it has left. Where exactly between Aiulindale and Minelido it is currently, we know not however.”
“What is your plan, o king?” asked Potter sullenly.

Chapter Nineteen - Fear of Power

2004-11-08T16:08:00.000-08:00

Mara backed off from Brendan, and turned towards Klicati.

“What do you mean?” she asked.
“He’s very obsessed with treasure,” Klicati stated. “Haven’t you noticed yet, Mara? That’s why he keeps coming in here. He wants some of your treasure.”
Mara snorted in disgust, smoke breathing from her nostrils. “Stupid mortals, coming in and trying to steal my treasure. Treasure is not for them, but for the king who cometh.”
“Does he even know of the king?” hissed Klicati, an evil gleam entering her eyes.
“I know not,” said Mara, as she turned back to Brendan.
“O Saint Leo, have mercy on me and pray for me,” Brendan murmured under his breath.
“You dare to enter the home of a Ligon without permission of the door ward?” she asked threateningly.
“I . . . I . . . I didn’t know there was a door ward!” he cried.

Steam hissed from her nostrils, and fire blew from her mouth. She rose back onto her legs, flapping her wings. “You will soon learn hereafter,” she said with a dragon like roar. “Go now, and do not return, or I shall surely kill you then.”

Brendan was as white as a sheet, and did not pause to say anything. He turned and ran back out of the lair and into the wood.

A few minutes later, the four travellers arrived at the mouth of a cave. Edmund turned to Kathryn, a slight frown on his face. His eye met Yoran’s for a brief moment, and he saw that though the Squirrel felt wary about travelling into there, he would not go against the wishes of a lady. And even on his own, Edmund knew that the squirrel would still enter.

“Is this the place, Kathryn?” he asked quietly.

She nodded quietly. Then she tightened her grip a bit on his arm, and took the first step into the lair. Moving slowly yet surely the four of them moved quietly further into the cave. As they turned the corner, Edmund caught a flash of red, and found himself face to face with a Ligon. She roared in anger at more trespassers, and let out a stream of smoke and fire.

“NO!” cried Edmund, as he swung his shield up to try and block Kathryn from being hit by the fire.
“Lady Kathryn!” Yoran cried, though he knew he could do nothing.

Jessica could say nothing, her face went white as she let out a voiceless scream, horrified at the sight before her. She could not, no, she could not die. It was not fair! She loved her sister, and wished dearly to be in her sister’s place.

Edmund’s shield was to no avail. Some of the fire hit his shield, but the rest blew full force into the face of Kathryn. And then, just as soon as it had begun, it ended. Kathryn was thrown to the ground, and Edmund stood in shock. Tears streamed down Jessica’s face, and Yoran turned to comfort the girl.

Hayden Potter smiled to himself as he sat in the palace that Sir Paulo had until recently claimed as his own. He had not sent Lady Genevieve away, but instead kept her, ordering her to be the head housekeeper. Potter sipped his tea thoughtfully as he glanced out his window. Guards in the uniform of the Seventeens were pacing the streets, throwing stern glances around to anyone they happened to pass by. All was quiet, and most was ready. A knock on the door brought a harsh interruption to the peaceful silence, and brought his mind from its conspiratorial thoughts to the present. A page entered, looking quite bashful and shy.

“Excuse me, my lord general, but, a messenger from the king has come to see you.”

Potter’s eyebrows shot up, and he quickly rearranged the papers on his desk.

“Show him up, please. Thank you.”

By the time that the messenger from King Orlando had arrived, Potter had straightened up his desk, to a civilized and cultured orderly fashion. He quietly and calmly sipped his tea as the messenger entered. Gently placing the tea cup back on its saucer, he turned his attention to the messenger of the king.

“Please, do, be seated sir,” he said with a cultured smile. “May I ask after your name?”
“I am Wayner, General Potter. I come from King Orlando, who is currently in Minelido.”
“So he did take the city,” said Potter. “That’s wonderful. With relative ease, I suspect?”
“Relative in what way, General? The King will always find his battles easy.”
“Oh, of course, Wayner, of course. Naturally. That is how it should be. But come, let us turn to other matters. What reason were you sent to me?”
“The King orders you to meet him in Minelido, with the majority of your army. He says for you to leave enough here to keep the city under control, and take the rest with you.”
“When must we leave, Wayner? Did the King specify?”
“Yes, he did, General. You are to leave early tomorrow morning and head immediately to Minelido. Then, when you and General Binks arrive, he will march on Aiulindale.”
“Very good. Thank you Wayner. I will see to it that you are supplied with food and a place to sleep tonight. We will be ready to ride come daybreak.”

The Eleven Knights found King Eldor pacing his tent, a thoughtful expression on his face. Sitting nearby was a girl, apparently the one who had come the night before. The Knights bowed, and waited for the king to begin to speak.

“Sit down,” the King said quickly to the Knights. Those that found seats did so, the rest remained standing. “You have heard the news?”
Sir Paulo shook his head. “No, we have not. What news is this, pray tell?”
“Our friend, Duke Orlando DiCaprio has proclaimed himself king of Elenaesia. Runners just arrived from Minelido and Ge’irdae. His men have captured both cities.”
“They captured Ge’irdae?” breathed Sir Bedwyr incredulously. “How could they have done that? And so soon?”
“The runner says that one of the Varnhyme was with them,” Eldor stated simply. “Apparently DiCaprio has also ordered the deaths of every woman or child named Cindy, Cynthia, or a variation of that name. The reasons why are unknown, but his men are already murdering these innocent victims.”
“The Princess!” cried Sir Taran.
“You should return to Aiulindale, Bob, my boy,” said Sir Rupert. “Maybe you can do something to save her.”
“I agree, King Eldor,” Sir Paulo said, stressing the Eldor part. “You should return back to the capital. Stay there, if only to protect your daughter.”
“Are you all in agreement on this?” asked Eldor.

Nods came from around the room. Cynthia settled back in her chair, pleased that she had been able to contact the King so quickly. But the news that the Duke had a Varnhyme disturbed her deeply. This could mean trouble for the King, trouble she did not wish to deal with. Yet deep inside she knew that it would be necessary.

General Binks strode into the courtyard of the palace in Ge’irdae. There was Draziw, his arms raised, his head lifted to the heavens, his eyes glowing the brilliant emerald. Then slowly, he lowered his arms, and bowed his head to the earth. The green glow to his eyes faded softly, taking its time, leaving behind the blue colour that seemed to match the midnight of his robe. He raised his head again, and turned towards Binks.

“What is it that you want, o mortal, that you disturb Draziw Varnhyme in his moment of solitude?” he asked sharply.
“You are mortal to, Draziw, never forget that,” snapped Binks.
“You will not refer to me as such, o mortal,” replied Draziw, his blue eyes blazing. “Instead, you shall call me Varderahyme, as it is in the ancient language.”
“Very well then, Varderahyme,” said Binks. “What have you found in your session of solitude now?”
“King Orlando desires you to take the majority of your army to meet him in Minelido.”
“That is all you found out?”
“Do you DARE to question me, o mortal?”
“Never, Varderahyme,” said Binks, with just a hint of sarcasm. “I am merely enquiring as to what else the King has desired or requested.”
“That is all, save that I travel with you. We will uproot the enemy from his seat, we will overturn the usurper from his throne, we will not fail!”

He lifted his head to the skies, raised his arms, and as his eyes glowed their brilliant green again, he uttered words in the ancient language. Then, dark clouds rolled over the sun, a loud clap of thunder echoed throughout the city, and lightening flashed. Then, he began to speak again, this time not in the ancient language.

“Bolt of the Heavens, listen to my voice! Bolt of the Heavens, hearken unto my cry! Bolt of the Heavens, be filled with the sounds I speak! Hearken to me, listen to me, pay attention to the sounds I voice! Come to me, o bolt from above! Dance for me, o bolt in the heavens! Declare thy majesty among the earth! Bolt of the Heavens, listen to my voice! Bolt of the Heavens, hearken unto my cry! Bolt of the Heavens, be filled with the sounds I speak! Hearken to me, listen to me, pay attention to the sounds I voice!”

As he spoke, the bolt of lightening danced in the sky above. It shone bright and clear against the dark background of the clouds. Then, it shimmered and shivered, and grew dim. The clouds rolled away, and Draziw returned from his trancelike state. He turned to General Binks.

“Do you now still doubt the power that is in me, Draziw Varnhyme? The power that I have? I can make even the lightening in the heavens bend to my will. Think of that power, and tremble before me, o mortal general. What is your position compared to mine? In that knowledge, despair. Prepare to leave.”

Chapter Seventeen - Treasure

2004-11-08T16:05:00.000-08:00

Hayden Potter mounted his horse again. The herald next to him wound the banner around its poll. Then, together with the trumpeter and honour guard, they rode towards the city of Eirtue. Upon reaching the gate, he commanded the herald to unfold the banner, and let it fly free in the wind. Then he commanded the trumpeter to sound forth the trumpet and announce their arrival to the citizens of Eirtue.

“Hail representative of Eirtue!” Potter called up to the man on the gate.
“Hail, general,” came the disgruntled response.
“I offer you these terms! Surrender now, and live in peace under the reign of King Orlando, or face the consequences! If you do not surrender peacefully, we will starve you until you surrender, or until we have had enough of waiting and destroy your city. We will leave none alive. What say you to our terms?”

There was no response from above. Finally, after what Potter believed to be a hurried discussion between the man and some others, the man turned back towards the riders below.

“Very well,” he called down with a sigh. “We accept your terms.”
“Much joy will come to you for taking the wise action! Now, if you would open the gates.”
“Open the gates,” the man called down to those who controlled them. “Open the gates.”

The small group of soldiers sighed as they continued their search. Duke DiCaprio had been very very upset with them when they reported that the prisoner, Jocelyn, was missing. Now they were stuck here, wherever here was, until they found her. Once they did that they were to kill her, dispose of the body, and return to Merisna. That was the other thing that bothered them. They were not even able to go fight with the Duke, or rather, King, like they originally were. Why did that stupid girl have to escape? Now they’d have no chance for honour or glory or fame.

“Any sign of the girl?” Garnath asked the others as they headed back to the camp they had set up.
“Nothing where I looked, Gar,” Toulos said. “She must have totally disappeared.”
“Off the face of the earth?” joked Claude. “But yeah, same here, turned up absolutely nothing.”
“Toulos, Claude, either of you seen Maizer?” said Garnath, a frown on his face.
“Not a sign, Garnath.”
“Maybe he’s with Jocelyn,” said Claude with a grin.
“Cut the funny biz, Claude. We have got work to do here, and if you are cracking nasty jokes that don’t have a grain of humour . . .”
“Hold your horses Gar! I am not running off with all the girls I meet. ‘Sides, you need some humour in these parts anways.”
“Humour is fine,” Toulos added. “Just, not what you do Claude.”
“Why? Am I putting you into a bad humour?” Claude guffawed. “Hah hah! Look at that pun! Humour putting you into humour! Whaddya think guys?”
“I think that you are going to get into trouble soon if you don’t shut that mouth of yours. Very funny indeed. Get to work making us some supper. We will wait for Maizer for a bit, if he does not show up, I guess we will go look for him.”

Maizer looked around, and paused by a tree. There was no sign of that dratted Jocelyn girl anywhere. What was he going to do? Would they ever find her? Suddenly, he heard his voice, and, strangest of strange things, it was saying his thoughts!

“Blast that girl! Why did she have to escape? Will we ever find her?”
“Uh . . . hello?” he ventured. “Maizer?”
“Who are you? What do you want?” the voice jumped back at him, sounding shockingly like his own when he was startled.

Maizer felt a sudden twitch in his thoughts. “Uh, I’m a . . . a codfish.”
“A codfish?” came the unbelieving response, and a snort.
“Uh, yeah. I’m a codfish. My name is Roger. I am called Jolly Roger. But, uh, yeah, I’m a codfish.”
“A codfish?” came the remark again. “Why am I talking to a codfish?!?”
“I’m afraid I do not know, Maizer,” Maizer responded with a shrug. “I guess, just because, you are talking to me, and I am a codfish.”
“Well then, get lost, Jolly Roger, will you? I am trying to get things done here!”
“Uh, sure. Where do you want me to go?”
“How about back to wherever your little measly self came from? Now scoot, will ya?”
“I’m going, Maizer, I’m going.”
“Good bye then, Jolly Roger.”
“Good bye Maizer.”

Maizer stumbled back towards the camp, where Claude, Toulos, and Garnath were sitting down eating some fish for dinner. They looked up as he entered the camp, looking like a drunk man.

“Yo, Maizer, what is up?” asked Toulos.
“I’m not Maizer,” he mumbled. “I am Jolly Roger, the codfish.”

Garnath raised his eyebrows in surprise. This was not the Maizer he remembered. What on earth had happened to Maizer? Who had he met? Who had he run into? Garnath feared that there could be a Varnhyme about. And if that was true, he did not care about Jocelyn anymore, he just wanted to get out of there.

“You look drunk,” said Claude.
“Yeah, and you act it too,” said Toulos. “What have you been drinking, Maiz?”
“I don’t know. I am not Maizer. I am a codfish, a codfish named Jolly Roger.
“Here, take some food,” said Garnath. “Eat it, and then go lie down. You can sleep tonight. Toulos and I will watch tonight.”

Edmund and Jessica took turns helping Kathryn as they walked through the forest. Yoran was always ahead, skipping past trees, his embroidery needle drawn as he searched for signs of the Ligon’s lair, or signs of anything that might be a danger. Then he would come running back lightly towards the other three, reporting everything he saw.

Kathryn paused suddenly, listening intently to a faint sound of what seemed to be a roar. She turned her head in the direction of the sound, and listened again. She furrowed her eyebrows as she concentrated, not hearing the sound of the others’ footsteps as they came up to her.

“Kat?” asked her sister. “What’s up?”
“Is there anything wrong, Lady Kathryn?” asked Edmund, concerned.
“Hear something do you?” said Yoran. “Tell us, will you what it is you hear?”
“I think, I know where we need to go.”
“What do you mean, Kathryn?”
“Edmund, help me. I can’t see, but I know what direction to go. I believe I heard the Ligon.”

She led them through the woods, leaning on Edmund, as he guided her around the trees and over objects lying in their path. Yoran and Jessica contented themselves to follow behind, and all were quiet as Kathryn strained her ears to discern the direction of the Ligon’s roars.

Mara roared in defiance as Klicati sat back and watched. The boy, Brendan had returned, searching for treasure. He cowered in the corner, shuddering at the thought of an angry Ligon bearing down on him. He backed further into the corner, looking for some way to escape. Mara rose on her hind legs, her wings raised as if she was preparing for flight.

“He’s very obsessed with treasure,” Klicati observed. Mara paused, and turned to stare at the cat.

Chapter Twenty Three - Through the Dusty Gate

2004-11-08T14:14:00.000-08:00

Kathryn looked deep into Edmund’s face. There was something there that was different. Something that he had seen, something that had changed the way he looked out on life. She wondered, but decided against saying anything to him. He would tell her in his own time if he needed too. Until then she would not comment.

Edmund glanced over at Kathryn as he ate his breakfast. She must know, he thought, she would know. He sighed inwardly, he did not want to explain it to her yet. In time he would have to, if only he could keep her from asking until he was ready. But to his surprise, the next words spoken came not from Kathryn, but from Jessica.

“What is wrong Edmund?” Jessica asked. “You seem tired, as if you saw a ghost or something. What happened?”
“Jessica,” Kathryn said quietly. “Do not pry. Have you not learned from when you were younger?”
“No,” Edmund said with a sigh, and realized that Jessica was right to ask. Though he was confused at the fact that Kathryn did not push it. He had thought he knew her. “She is right to ask.”
“Only if you are ready to tell, Edmund,” came Kathryn’s soft voice.

There was a pause and Edmund did not respond, but neither did Jessica push it. Klicati and Yoran and Mara could be heard a little ways a way talking in hushed voices to each other about something. Then Edmund turned towards Kathryn.

“Lady Kathryn,” he said quietly, “may I please talk to you, alone?”
“Yes, Edmund,” came her soft answer. She stood up, and followed him a little bit away. There she waited for him to begin to talk to her.
“I had a dream last night,” he continued. “A vision of sorts. They are looking for me, my lady. I must go to them. Otherwise I will put you all in danger. It must be this way.”
“Who is looking for you?”
“The Duke. DiCaprio wants me, he knows I have the Stone of the King, and he wants it. He would not care who else was with me, he would only kill them. It is me who he wants, and he wants me alive. I can not put you all in such danger.”
“Edmund, it was my idea to go. I knew the danger involved, and I was willing to risk it. Jessica knows the danger, and Yoran. I know that Mara and Klicati know, or they would not have offered to go with us. Do not worry. We will stay with you.”
Edmund nodded. “Very well. At least for now, I will stay. But it may be that I need to go. He is looking for me, and I can’t hide from him forever.”

Kathryn smiled, and they turned back towards where the others were waiting. Quickly cleaning up from breakfast, they mounted Mara again, and she once more flew into the sky. Jessica turned to her sister.

“What is it like to see again?” asked Jessica.
“It is as if I have stepped through the dusty gate and into the courtyard beyond. I have left the dust behind, and seen something sparkling clean. A ray of sunshine has pierced my darkness, a light shines in the night.”

“Are we going to break up camp yet, sir?” asked Sir Evyn.
“No, we are not,” came Sir Paulo’s answer.
“What do you mean we are not?” Sir Flavus cried incredulously.
“I mean that we are going to be staying here. We are not breaking up camp.”
“But the king gave orders!” interrupted Geminad.
“The king gave orders, and I am overruling them. He gave me charge of the army and the battle. I am not going to allow the enemy to choose the battleground. This is a well defensible area. It will make it harder for our opposition. It is easier this way for us to fight, and it will give us a better chance at actually defeating DiCaprio and the army of the Seventeens.”
“Sir Paulo does have a point,” agreed Taliesin. “This is an easily defensible area. We will have more of an advantage here, than we would if we came upon DiCaprio’s army unexpectedly. We do not know where they are, so we do not know if we will have a good place to fight or not. At least here we know the territory and know where our weaknesses are.”
“Which is exactly why we are not breaking up camp, and exactly why we are staying here. I want scouts to go and find all possible weaknesses. I want to strengthen our defences, and I want to eliminate weaknesses. Sir Thanet, I want you and Sir Martin to go and examine all possible weaknesses, no matter how small they are. Sir Bedwyr and Sir Geminad and Sir Flavus will take scouts and position them in the places they feel would be best, and in doubtful ones as well. I do not want to take chances with this. Sir Taliesin, Sir Taran, and Sir Caspian, you three are to make sure that the army is ready for battle. Reposition the camp if you need to. But get the army ready to fight. Sir Rupert, Sir Thanet, and Sir Evyn, you are to remain here, and we will discuss possible strategy plans while looking at different maps of the outlying area. You all have your jobs to do. Let us prepare to fight!”

With nods of acknowledgement, smart salutes, and yes sirs, the knights departed to their various ways. Sir Paulo pulled some maps out of satchel and spread them open, placing a few books on the edges to keep them flat. As he and Thanet and Rupert and Evyn all looked over the maps and discussed strategy after strategy, they could hear the muffled voices of Taliesin, Caspian, and Taran as they directed the repositioning of the camp and preparations for battle.

Some of the soldiers were already practicing with their swords, and the clang and crash of steel against steel could be heard. The whistle of arrows as they flew from their strings to the targets on the far side of camp was also heard. Bows were strung and unstrung, tightened and loosened as they prepared to fight. The blacksmiths were busy, hammering steel, shoeing horses, sharpening blades, repairing dents. The camp was alive and humming. They would not surrender, and they would not die without a fight.

“Is the army ready to move?” asked Orlando DiCaprio to the former lieutenant Pevensie, now General Pevensie.
“Yes, my lord King Orlando. We are prepare to move when needed.”
“Very good. Make ready to leave within three hours.”
“Yes, my lord King Orlando.”
“Dismissed, General.”

With a nod and a bow General Pevensie backed out and headed out to go ensure that the army was all packed and completely ready to leave.

“What have you learned now, Draziw?” asked DiCaprio as he turned towards the Varnhyme.
“The boy knows that you want him.”
“So, are you saying he will not come to Ge’irdae? Are you saying what you saw before was a lie?”
“No, it is not a lie. He will still come to Ge’irdae. But remember that the future is always in motion. Choices made affect how it will turn out. I cannot control the future. I can but see possible futures. It is not perfect.”
“You better see to it that he comes to Ge’irdae. If he does not come, many people will be very upset. I will NOT have him get away from me. Come now, we must ride. I intend to hold Aiulindale very soon.”

Two men in long cloaks walked into the Red Raven. They walked over towards the bartender and rested their arms on the counter.

“Can I help ye?” asked the bartender as he came up to them.
“Yeah,” said the first one. “I want a Trydean. On the rocks.”
“And ye, sir?”
“Hmm,” said the second. “I think I will take a Maxwell. Plain.”
“Here ye go. That would be two clarens for each, lads.”

The first man tossed three clarens on the counter, and the second man added one claren to the pile. With a nod, they took their drinks and turned to find a table to sit at. Most were crowded, save for one in the corner, that had only two men sitting at it. Heading that direction they greeted the two men in the style of Aiulindale, with a short bow.

“Do you mind if we sit here? The Raven is a bit crowded today,” said the first man.

The brown hooded men sitting at the table exchanged glances and then nodded. With nods of thanks and another short bow, the two men joined the hooded ones at the table.

Chapter Thirty Two - Epilogue

2004-11-08T13:58:00.000-08:00

And so the years passed and the seasons passed. And Edmund was a good and just king over all of Elenaesia, and his people loved him. And also they loved his queen, Kathryn, who was as kind and perfect a queen as any could wish for. They loved each other very much, and to him she would always remain the Kathryn she was when they first met. He often called her his Queen Kat, and they lived in happiness for the rest of their lives.

King Edmund and Queen Kathryn were the proud and happy parents of seven beautiful children. The oldest, Michelangelo, became king after his father died. He too was well beloved by his people. Aside from Prince, and then later King, Michelangelo, they had three other sons – Prince Raphael, Prince Davinci, and Prince Botticelli. They also had three beautiful daughters – Princess Helen, Princess Persephone, and Princess Penelope. Together the family grew and prospered in peace and happiness.

Throughout his reign Edmund kept the peace in Elenaesia. He kept his promise to Kathryn, and opened dialogue with the Bears. Soon they had established a formal alliance with the Bears, and often any one of the Bachelor Bears could be seen around the halls of the palace, or lumbering off somewhere in Elenaesia. The Squirrels, Cats, and other animals also were well treated, and formed alliances with Elenaesia as well.

Mara remained with Edmund all of his life. She was the official Royal Ligon, and she was always more than willing to bear him into battle, to go on spying missions, and do whatever she could to help him. She gave most of her treasure in her treasure horde to King Edmund, who in turn deposited in the treasury of Elenaesia, thus ensuring that Elenaesia would never be in need of gold or silver or fine jewels to bargain with.

Yoran also remained with Edmund. He refused any title, save Sir, which was granted to him, along with the position of the King’s Right Hand Knight. Yoran remained fearless and brave and courageous, even in his elder years. He always wore the golden band around his head, with the red feather stuck behind his ear. And he always wore his belt and scabbard with his over sized embroidery needle. Queen Kathryn personally made sure it was sharp every time he went out, or when there was rumours of an uprising or if Elenaesia had to help her allies in any way at all.

The reason that Mara only donated most of her treasure to King Edmund and the Royal Elenaesian treasury was because while she was gone to bring the Stone of the King to King Eldor, the wily and stubborn Brendan had snuck back into her lair and taken a nice pile of treasure for himself. He, being obsessed with treasure, among other things, decided to take to the sea, and soon made a name for himself as the Dread Pirate Brendan.

Klicati spent the rest of her sixth life in Elenaesia, but disappeared part way through the long reign of King Edmund. Apparently she showed up in a country known as the United States of America, around the year 1991 Anno Domini, Earth Standard Years. She was quite impressed to find that they had built off of the system used by the ancient Greeks but was not impressed by the fact that it could have been in a lot better shape than it was at that point in time. For her eighth life she found herself on a starship known as the USS Enterprise NCC 1701 D, in the form of a cat, whom her owner, a golden skinned person that the others called an android, called Spot. Her ninth and final life has not been heard of yet. Rumours persist however that it was spent at the Restaurant at the End of the Universe.

Sir Octavian lived a wonderful happy life, and married the daughter of the late King Eldor, Princess Cynthyana. However, his wife, while pregnant, went on a diplomatic mission to the Amandu Mountains and was never heard from again. He mourned her for several years, and their daughter, for by the power of Queen Kathryn, they had known it was to be a daughter, whom they had decided to name Melania. About sixteen years after his wife’s disappearance, a young girl appeared in Aiulindale, with goods to trade from Merisna. After several run ins with her, she was discovered to be his daughter Melania. This greatly overjoyed him, and he lived much happily ever after after finding his daughter.

Other wars most likely took place, but they have not been reported to the author at this time. A fact of which the author is most definitely quite put out by. The author has decided to cancel the author’s subscription to Time, effective immediately, for Time has yet to release any pertinent news concerning the current public relations and foreign affairs of Elenaesia, despite a rather large number of requests that were snail mailed, e-mailed, faxed, and phoned in to the Time office. (One note of caution, the author may not necessarily have been subscribed in the first place, nor is it necessarily known that the author did get around to sending those emails, faxes, and snail mails, or if the author had the right number when making the phone calls) Thus, it has been left up to the author’s imagination at this point in time, and the author would be more than willing to create interesting battle sequences. However, if the reader remembers the last author note that the author stuck into this story, they will remember that the author has (or may have, it is not entirely certain that the story is verified) complaints from parents in Elenaesia concerning the amount of violence. For lack of a better ending, the author would like to note that all lived long and prospered, and they all lived happily ever after.

Chapter Thirty One - True Love

2004-11-08T13:53:00.000-08:00

Kathryn felt the tears sting her face as they rolled down her cheeks. She was sitting on a small stone towards the edge of the camp. She needed to be alone, to think things over. She wore a deep forest green gown that was trimmed with gold. Her brown hair tumbled down her back, and she fingered a red rose in her hand.

It seemed that her whole entire world had come crashing down on her. She had left Eirtue blind, but ready to seek after knowledge and whatever else she might be able to find. She had left the Forest of the Ligon with her sight returned to her, and glorious days ahead on the horizon. But then Edmund had had that dream. And then he had left. And she had not stopped the others from rescuing him. Perhaps it was for the best that they had done that, but she could not help but wonder if her uncle would still be alive if they had not rescued Edmund. Now her uncle was dead, Edmund was king, and she knew not what had become of her aunt. What more must happen to her? What more must she suffer through, must she endure, before she found happiness? Would she ever find happiness for that matter? Surely she would find some somewhere . . . surely it would be possible. Somehow. She knew she wanted to find some happiness in something, no matter what she did later on. If she could find but one spark of happiness, she would truly be happy.

She did not blink back the tears that came unbidden to her eyes. Nor did she wipe them away from where they fell onto her lap. They stung her cheeks in the cold of the evening, but she did not care. She wished she could just sit down and cry, and cry, and cry. Cry her heart out. Cry all those tears she had stored up inside her throughout her life, never wanting to appear weak in other areas in addition to her sight. But she wanted someone to share it with. Someone to pour her heart out to. Jessica would listen, perhaps, for a little while, but Jessica was so bubbly and happy, she would not truly understand. And Kathryn needed someone who would understand what she was going through, someone who could hold her hand, and stay with her as she tried to decipher her true feelings on these matters. But where would she find someone who would do that?

“Can I do anything for you, Kathryn?” she heard a voice ask through the darkness.

She turned to glance up into the face of Edmund. He stood there, looking like the boy Jessica had described to her when they first met. She only nodded, wiping tears from her tear stained face.

“What is wrong, Kathryn? Is it your uncle?”
“Yes, and no,” she could barely whisper the words. “There is so much, and yet, so little. I do not understand. I can not understand. Why does this have to happen to me, Edmund? Why can life not go on as it has before? Why must it all change? Why must Uncle Paulo die, why must you become king?”
“But, Kathryn,” said Edmund. “Look on the bright side of things. You can see again, as a result of what has happened. The rebellion from the Seventeens has been quelled. Orlando DiCaprio can no longer trouble us. I intend to open dialogue between Elenaesia and the Bears and the Squirrels and the other Ligons. You have been gifted with the power of the Varnhyme. The Stone of the King has been found. Many good things have come, Kathryn. We can not just have the sweet, or just have the bitter. They come together, as bittersweet. Like the chocolate imported from Cardopeia that I know I loved as a child. It had just the right tinge of sweetness, and bitterness, providing a taste all its own. So it is with life.”

Kathryn nodded, and then just let the tears flow unceasingly. Then she just threw her arms around Edmund and buried her head in his shoulder. She knew he would understand. He put his arm around her, and held her as she cried.

“I am sorry,” she murmured between tears.
“No, do not be. Sometimes it is right to cry. Sometimes it is what we need to do. Just cry, let the tears come. It is necessary sometimes, and this is one of those times.”

So she did cry. The tears came rushing like water over a waterfall in the mountains. She just cried. And he comforted her, far into the night. Memories of her childhood, scents, smells, voices and other sounds and feelings cam rushing over her. She buried herself in these childish memories, buried herself as she brought up to her mind the other things she remembered from them, the words her parents spoke to her, or whatever stuck out about that day in her mind.

Edmund felt memories come up at him as well. Memories of his youth, of his first seven years spent at home with his parents, and then he remembered the death of his mother when he was but four. The death of his father at seven, and being sent off to a strange home in Eirtue to live and serve Sir Paulo. How he had hated having to live in Eirtue. The city was not what he was used too. He was used to living in the country, where he could run and play all day long, without fearing for something else. It was something that had pleased him greatly, and he missed being able to run wild and free in the country.

But life in Eirtue had not been as bad as he had worked himself into thinking when he first arrived. Sir Paulo was not the cruel old beast he had thought him to be originally. Instead Sir Paulo had a wonderful sense of humour, and had taken time to have fun with Edmund. He did not treat Edmund as a slave, or work him to death or any other such thing that some of the friends that Edmund had when he still lived with his father had warned him about. He was very glad to find it was not so. Throughout his time spent in Eirtue in the service of Sir Paulo, he had known that the knight had two nieces, and that one of them was blind, but he had never seen them.

Now he felt eternally grateful for being assigned to help Lady Kathryn when Sir Paulo had left to go to Aiulindale. He realized that he had always admired her, and thought that she was very special, yet it was not until he and Octavian had been talking on the battlefield that he realized that he truly loved Kathryn. Now, he wanted to tell her, to ask her to marry him, to be his wife and queen, but he did not know where to find the words. He was nervous, and he was frightened. What if she laughed at him? Or what if she said no? Or what if something else happened? His mind went through many possible scenarios, and each cut him deeply. How could he bring himself to ask her to marry him, if she could do any of those possible things he had just imagined? Or something he had not gotten around to imagining yet?

No, he thought to himself, no. I must gather the courage to ask her, if I do not get this courage, if I do not ask her, I shall never know. And it will be all my fault because I was not brave enough to ask a girl to marry me. How bad can it be? All I have to do is get down on one knee and ask her if she will marry me. It can not be that bad.

Kathryn had stopped crying now, and had calmed down. Edmund pulled himself away from her, and dropped to one knee. He held her hand in his, and covered it with his other hand. He looked up at her gentle, tear stained face, and she looked down at his earnest one raised to look at her.

“Kathryn,” he said slowly. “I, I want you to know that I love you. I love you more than anything or anyone else in the world. I love you, Kathryn. And I am in debt to you, for it was you who helped me to realize who I was, and who I was meant to be. It was you who helped me become who I am. You told me, back in the beginning, that truth would find you on its own. And my mother told me, right before she died, that the truth would set me free. Because of this, I have realized some of the truth. I know now whether we can know all truth, without being sinless, but I do know that this is one bit of the truth at least. I am asking you, Kathryn, if you would honour me by consenting to be my wife, and my queen. Will you marry me, Kathryn?”

She gasped slightly, and turned away. Did she love him enough, to commit her entire life to him? Did she love him enough? Did he love her as much as he claimed? Did he mean what he said, or was he doing this out of pressure, and hoping she would say no?

He watched her, as she turned away from him. Did she not love him, as he loved her? Did she not want to marry him? Why could she not just say so? His throat felt dry and parched after he finished his small speech to her. In some ways he wished she would hurry up and answer, so he could get a drink of water for his throat. He nervously licked his lips as he waited for her answer.

Kathryn did not turn back to Edmund right away. Instead, she let her eyes glow green, and she focused on him. She found her way into his mind, slowly at first, but gradually gaining confidence. There she looked through his thoughts, wondering if he really meant what he said. Suddenly, she stumbled across an open door. Growing curious, she peeked inside, and saw in there a chamber filled with love. Then she realized that the door was open because he loved her so much, he could not just keep his love for her to himself any longer. She suddenly felt ashamed for doubting him, and small for having to prove to herself that he really did love her. She turned back to him, tears threatening to come again, but she squeezed her eyes tight, trying to hold them back.

“Edmund,” she found herself saying, though she did not know where she found the words to speak. “Edmund, I, I love you too. But you can not want to marry me. You see,” and now the tears did come, “you see, I did not know if you really did love me, and I used the power given to me, the power of the Varnhyme, to find out. You can not possibly want to marry me after this.”
“No, oh, no,” he murmured as he stood up slowly, and looked down at her, holding her chin with one of his hands, and still holding her hand with his other hand. “I love you even more for that. You should not be afraid to use your power, Kathryn. It was given to you, and you will use it wisely. I know you will. Do not apologize. I still would be very honoured, if you would consent to be my wife. Please, Kathryn, please, will you marry me?”

She looked deep into his eyes, and saw there the love that she knew he saw in her own eyes. She felt the tears coming again. But this time, she knew they were tears of joy, and of love, and of happiness, compared to the sorrow she had expressed through her tears just a little while before. She nodded, and her eyes shown more beautiful than they had ever shone before.

“Yes, Edmund,” she whispered to him. “Oh yes. I will marry you. I will be your wife, I will be your queen. I love you.”

Then, he swooped her up into his arms, and spun her around, a smile on his face. At last he stopped breathlessly, and collapsed onto a large log that was lying on the ground. He pulled her laughing to sit down beside him. There he held her face in his hands, and gazed at it for quite a long while. Then, on impulse, he leaned towards her, as she raised her face to his, and they kissed. They kissed long and passionately, the love they shared for one another flowing between them in that kiss. And surely, out of all the kisses in history, none have been more passionate, more pure, more loving that one kiss, save the one they would share on their wedding day. But this was one of the most special kisses. For their love for each other was so great, that it could not be tracked, not even with one thousand blood hounds. And it could not be broken, not even if one tried to break it with one thousand swords. And as they kissed, the sun rose in the east over the Sea of Nautalae, and over shadowed them with its glory and brilliance and goldeness.

The sun was a reminder of their love for each other. It would have its ups and downs, but it would remain there forever, firmly holding them and binding them to one another. Just as the sun would keep rising and setting, from the day it was created, to the day the world ended.

Chapter Twenty Six - Wit and Wisdom

2004-11-08T11:37:00.000-08:00

Eldor, King of Elenaesia, was awakened from his sleep by cries concerning the enemy attacking, a Ligon appearing, spies from who knew where, and other such panics. He arose quickly, and was handed a robe by his wife who was already awake, and apparently dressed. Even her hair had been done up in its usual elaborate braids.

Women, he thought to himself. Always somehow they are ready before you really know it. No matter what you do to prepare, they have already done it and more. And that one most of all.

As he hurried down the stairs, he saw that Cynthia was also awake, and he, he was careful to note, already dressed. She apparently had also heard the commotion, and wished to discover what was happening for herself. Neither said anything to the other, but rather entered the throne room in silence. And then they stopped.

There, in front of them, was a giant red Ligon, its wings gently folded by its side. Sitting next to it was a rather snooty looking cat, who was serenely licking its paws as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Standing next to the cat was a squirrel, about two feet high, who was armed with a rather large embroidery needle, a band of gold with a red feather wrapped around its head. Then there was a girl, with long golden braids, and a pink dress, that seemed rather worn. Her blue eyes seemed to be filled with relief. Next to her stood a taller girl who had long brown curls bound up in a net. She was wearing a pale blue gown, rather muddied at the hem, yet her grey eyes were filled with determination, and, could it possibly be wonder? Then, strangest of all, was a young man, taller than the girl, with hair blacker than coal, and green eyes that seemed so deep. His very being, his bearing, his way of holding himself, and the way he looked, all seemed to tell of noble birth.

When they saw the king enter, the odd assortment of companions bowed or curtsied to him in a sign of respect. He dipped his head regally, and took his seat on his throne. Eldor noticed that Cynthia remained in the shadows, partially hidden. Then he turned his attention back to the newcomers.

“Welcome to Aiulindale,” he said royally. “I am Eldor, King of Elenaesia.”

He noticed the brown haired girl frown just slightly at the corners of her mouth for but a brief moment, then turned as the door shut. He raised his eyebrows, and sighed openly as his wife appeared.

“You left before I was ready for you to go,” she said simply.
“My apologies, my darling Raelle.”
“Sincere ones I hope, Eldor my dear. Now, will you stop fussing about, and start acting like a king?”
“I am trying to, Raelle, my puss. But as you may not have noticed, I was distracted by your, shall we say, untimely entrance?”
“My time is my own, my king. Now, shall we get on with it?”
“Yes, of course. I was getting there, you know, my catty queen.”
“Then why do you not stop talking and start getting there?”
He sighed again, and turned back to the newcomers. “Welcome, again, to Aiulindale. May I inquire as to your names and your business here?”
“My name is Edmund, and I am the squire to Sir Paulo,” said Edmund with a bow.
“Ah, Edmund. I have heard your name often from the good Sir Paulo. And your companions?”
“This is Lady Kathryn, and Lady Jessica, the nieces of Sir Paulo.”
“Welcome, my ladies. You honour us with your presence.”
“This is Yoran of the Squirrels, Klicati of the Cats, and Mara the Ligon.”
“And yet again, welcome, o beasts. Yet Edmund, it is not often that we see such travelling with such company.”
“That is true, my lord King, but do not desperate times call for desperate measures?”
“Touché, Edmund. You have a witty tongue indeed.”
“Be careful you do not trip over it,” warned Queen Raelle.
“Come now, my dear queen, must we scold a boy who has learned to use his wit and wisdom well?”
“The Queen speaks wisely, my lord King.”
“Yet I see that you do have wisdom,” agreed the king. “But now, what errand brings you thus, and with such company also?”

Then Edmund reached into his cloak and withdrew a small stone, perfect, save for one jagged piece missing. He held it aloft, and as he moved closer, it began to glow softly. The stone on the torc of the king also began to glow, and Kathryn noticed a word beginning to form on the shield. She caught her breath as she deciphered the letters. It was one word, but it was one she had not quite expected.

King Eldor saw the glowing word as well. It could not be. He did not want to admit it. But, it could mean nothing. After all, the torc and the Stone of the King were glowing, he was the true king. Yet that word . . . that single word, there was something about it that nagged at him.

“You found the Stone of the King?” he breathed, leaning forward in his seat.
“This is why we are together. Lady Kathryn, Lady Jessica, and I had set out to the Amandu Mountains in search of the Stone. There we met Yoran, and were told by a Sage, Heather by name, to go north to the Forest of the Ligon. There we met Mara and Klicati. The Stone was in the keeping of Mara. Once we retrieved the Stone, we came here from the Drimvue Forest.”
“You must have had quite an adventure, then, Edmund.”
“Yes, we did, my lord King.”
“I thank you for returning to us the sacred Stone of the King. Now, I fear I must be going to the battle, I believe that DiCaprio will not waste any more time. Will you accompany me, Edmund?”
“I would be honoured too, my lord King.”
“Give to the King, my service I do,” said Yoran quickly. “Go with him to battle, I will.”

Eldor looked quizzically at Edmund.

“It would be an honour to have him with us. He is not one to be trifled with, my lord King.”
“Ah, very well then. I would be delighted to have you accompany us, Master Yoran.”
“Give to you my thanks, I do. Serve you well I will.”
“Now,” said Eldor. “I believe that our guests should be fed, and those of us riding back to the camp should prepare to leave and say our good byes. So let it be written, so let it be done.”
“To hear is to obey, o King,” said a servant in the back.

Orlando DiCaprio rode at the front of the army, his golden hair streaming in the wind. He released one hand from his horse’s reins, and touched the handle of his sword lightly. The green stone embedded in the handle shone in the sun, sending green sparkles of light onto the white speckled coat of his horse. With a raise of his hand, he ordered his banner to be unfurled.

There, in the wind, the banner of Orland DiCaprio of the Seventeens was unfurled. It was the coat of arms of the DiCaprio house, a serpent twined around a sword, but this one had a golden crown embroidered onto the head of the serpent, and seventeen stars dotted the background, one reperesenting each of the Seventeens. It was trimmed with a green border, and had a white star in each corner, representing the four main cities outside of the Seventeens – Aiulindale, Ge’irdae, Minelido, and Eirtue.

Draziw rode by the side of the King, each of them silent. The long white beard of the Varnhyme blew in the wind. He looked ahead of them, his eyes glowing green, and his arms raised to the sky. He held tightly onto the horse with his knees, while concentrating most of his efforts on seeing what lay ahead of him. A few minutes later, he brought his arms back down to his reigns, and his eyes turned back to their crystal blue.

“What did you see, Draziw?” asked DiCaprio urgently. “Battle plans, their weaknesses, their strengths? Do they expect us?”
“They do expect us, o mortal king.”
“Weaknesses, strengths, what can we turn to our advantage?”
“They are trying to look for weaknesses. They do not expect a head on attack however.”
“But that would be preposterous! Think of the men we’d lose!”
“I thought you did not care for human life if it was necessary to lose it for the greater cause,” mumbled Draziw under his breath.
“I heard that,” retorted DiCaprio. “But, it does have the element of surprise. You will then, of course, do your part in the battle?”
“Naturally, o mortal king. I do keep my word, and I do not abandon those who I have declared my liege and lord.”
“Very well then. Give the orders to the men. We shall ride for wrath, for ruin, and a red nightfall!”

As Draziw rode away, DiCaprio put his hand to his sword handle. Wrapping his fingers around it, and grasping tightly, he pulled the long blade from its sheath. The sun glinted off the blade, and DiCaprio issued a salute to the sky, before riding off towards the camp of King Eldor.

Chapter Twenty Five - Mutual Thoughts

2004-11-08T11:21:00.000-08:00

Cynthia closed her eyes that evening. Warmth rushed through her body as she felt the joyful satisfaction of helping to save the life of the Princess of Elenaesia. She let her mind drift into sleep, something she needed quite a bit of. As she slept, she dreamed, but it was not any ordinary dream. She appeared to be floating amongst the clouds, but why?

“Come to me, come with me, let me show you of the world,” a soft symphonic voice came floating to her over the clouds.

She moved towards the voice, unaware of her movement, yet aware of it. She looked over the edge of the clouds and peered below. There a picture formed below. She saw a young man being bound up by someone who looked like General Binks. She saw a stone glowing, and the boy struggling. Then the scene swirled and blurred and spiralled away to have another one replace it.

There she saw another girl, her eyes glowing green, her arms outstretched. Then she seemed to fade, collapsing to the ground as the boy who had been struggling rushed to catch her. Tears streamed down his face, but Cynthia saw that the girl was dead. Then it swirled again.

Another image came into view, this one of a Ligon, flying overhead, the wings outstretched as it soared. Then the Ligon swooped downward, upon an army below, as if to attack it. Then that too faded away into nothingness.

“You have looked upon the future, or possible ones. You have seen knowledge and it is now in your hand to put it to use or to leave it behind. Use it well.”

Then all faded, the voice, the clouds, and the swirling images. It all faded into nothingness.

Cynthia awoke with a start, but no sign of her dream or vision remained. She lay her head back down on her pillows, and within a few minutes, was fast asleep again, dreaming happily about her home in Merisna.

The large man led Edmund up along the windy streets of Ge’irdae, and to the tall tower that stood in the middle. After a brief conference with the guards at the gate, he led Edmund into the tower and up several flights of stairs. After knocking at the door, they entered. A man turned to face them.

“Thank you Vladisk. You may go now, Vladisk.”
“You are welcome, my lord General Binks. Yes, my lord General Binks.”

Then with a bow, Vladisk turned and exited the room, after depositing the weapons and the stone on the table. A page came in and took the weapons, but left the stone. General Binks walked over and picked up the stone absentmindedly and turned it around in his hands.

“Come, young Edmund, let us take a walk. We are going to meet with the King Orlando, but we shall walk for part of the way. I, as you no doubt know by now, am General Binks Vizzini.”
“Binks,” remarked Edmund. “That is a strange name. Why were you named that? It reminds me of a jar for some odd reason. I can’t quite place my thought on that.”
“We will not discuss that,” General Binks snapped. “It is my name, and I find it better than Vizzini. Considering the fact that I know no one related to me named Binks, and I do not particularly relish being associated with my ancestor Vizzini, I find it a useful name.”
“That would make a good reason for having it. But who is this ancestor of yours that you regard with such distaste?”
“Many years ago, many many years ago, mind you,” said General Binks, “an ancestor of mine was involved in the business of starting wars. He lived down south, Silecea. But he was a stupid man, who thought himself quite intelligent. And that brought about his downfall when he was outthought. I do not believe in considering yourself more intelligent then you actually are. It is quite stupid, in my most humble opinion.”
“Yes, I quite agree,” said Edmund. “I do not think that someone should go boasting that they are more than what they actually are, it can lead to problems.”
“Indeed,” agreed Binks. “As was illustrated by the incident with my ancestor in Silecea. As you no doubt have noticed.”
“No doubt,” nodded Edmund.
“So, because of the quite unacceptable, do you not think it is unacceptable?”
“Oh, very much so. Very much so. It was quite unacceptable.”
“Ah, good, we agree then!” said Binks with a smile. “That is very good. So, because of this very unacceptable action, I have decided that it would be best not to associate myself with someone, even a relative, of such disreputable character.”
“And I admire you very much for that, General Binks. It is not often that one can find someone with enough courage to change his name so as not to be associated with those of lesser honour.”
“We are men of our word then, Edmund,” said General Binks. “You do understand now that I must take you to the King? Despite the fact I believe that we are such kindred spirits.”
“Oh, naturally. You must fulfil the higher calling. That is to be expected of course.”
“I am glad we see eye to eye on this rather unfortunate event. It is a pity, but, orders are orders, and they simply must be obeyed. If one is to fulfil the higher calling, and to fulfil our quest for truth, that is.”
“Quest for truth?” asked Edmund curiously.
“Yes, indeed, our quest for truth. You have come across the phrase before?”
“Actually, yes, I have. A, um, friend told it to me.”
“Aha, interesting. What do you think of this quest?”
“My friend who told me the phrase, they believe that the truth will come to us when we are ready for it, but not before then.”
“It seems to me that your friend and I agree on that. You should introduce me to this friend of yours, if of course, if all goes well with your meeting with King Orlando.”
“Perhaps that might work. If all goes well with the King of course.”
“Ah, then let us mount to our horses, we can travel quicker that way. What say you?”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea, General Binks.”

Mara soared in the sky, her wings spread out, the wind rushing past. Klicati, Jessica, Kathryn, and Yoran scanned below for any sign of Edmund or any other person walking or riding below. Finally, they saw a small speck below. Mara circled downwards, and they saw that it was indeed Edmund, and men in the uniform of army officers of the Seventeens.

“Look out!” cried the soldiers below.
“Duck!” others cried, as they all flew for cover.

General Binks jerked Edmund down beside him, and whispered to him about ferocious Ligons that pestered them and ate humans alive. Just then Mara snaked her head down and grabbed Edmund by the back of his hauberk. Jessica meanwhile had jumped down and grabbed his sword and shield. Running back, Yoran helped her back onto Mara, and Kathryn pulled Edmund onto the beautiful Ligon’s back.

“Why did you come after me?” asked Edmund breathlessly.
“Why would we leave you behind?” asked Jessica.

Kathryn and the others remained silent as Mara continued to fly towards Aiulindale. When the sun rose in the sky, and mid afternoon came upon them, Mara slowly circled downward to rest. They had had a busy evening and morning, and were all very tired. Kathryn walked off a little ways a way from the others and sat with her back to them. She felt like she had destroyed Edmund’s trust in her. She had told him she would not stop him, but she did not object to their going to rescue him.

“Kathryn?” she heard Edmund’s voice from behind her.

She nodded silently, staring off into the grass beyond, taking in the beauty of the world around her, yet felt somehow bitter over the rescue of Edmund.

“I do not mean to pry,” he said hesitantly, “but, if I may inquire, what is wrong?”
“I am sorry,” she said not turning around.
“Sorry for what?” he asked as he came to sit facing her.
“You said you had to go. I did not even try to stop them. I, I am sorry, Edmund. Will you please forgive me?”
“There is nothing to forgive, Lady Kathryn. Perhaps that future was not meant to happen. I do not know, I do not even know what it is I do not know.”
Kathryn frowned. “What is happening, Edmund? Something is going on, but I do not understand what it is.”
“I do not know either. Would that I knew . . .” Edmund broke off, and stared off at the trees beyond.

Chapter Twenty Two - Red Ravens

2004-11-08T08:12:00.000-08:00

General Binks entered the temporary throne room in Minelido. He bowed before Orlando DiCaprio, and then went right to business. Now that Hayden Potter was out of the way, he had more work to do than before.

“General Binks, I have a job I need you to do for me,” said DiCaprio quickly.
“Yes, lord King Orlando?” asked Binks, inwardly sighing at the selfishness of DiCaprio. Could he not do anything for himself?
“I need you to return to Ge’irdae . . .”
“Return there? My liege, I just came from Ge’irdae. Surely whatever it is has already been taken care of, or word could be sent for them to take care of it, or some other such arrangement.”
“No, General Binks. Now listen, before you find yourself joining the unfortunate Mister Potter. This job I can entrust to no one except yourself.”
“Yes, my lord King Orlando. What job is it that you wish me to do?”
“There will be coming to Ge’irdae a boy, a boy by the name of Edmund. You are to take him prisoner, but I do not want any harm to come to him whatsoever. You are to take him prisoner, and bring him to me, directly at the battlefield. He will be carrying a stone. You are to take it from him, but if any harm befalls him, or the stone, you will pay for it personally. Bring him to me immediately, do not waste any time. It is imperative that you capture him. I have reason to believe that he will come to you of his own free will.”
“Will Draziw be accompanying me?” asked General Binks.
“No.”
“No? Why not?”
“I need him here, for he will be needed in the battle. That is enough. You are dismissed, General Binks.”
“Yes, my lord King Orlando.”
“So let it be written, so let it be done.
“To hear is to obey.”

With another bow, General Binks backed out of the room, and prepared to ride directly too Ge’irdae. Within the hour he was on his way. It seemed so stupid to him, to have faith in a corny belief, probably fuelled by Draziw and the Varnhyme’s hokey religion. Ah well, he would find out soon enough whether or not Draziw was to be believed.

“I am about to give up on this whole bally quest thing altogether,” muttered Toulos.
“Agreed,” said Claude glumly. “I swear, she has disappeared off the face of the earth. There is nothing we can do.”
“Yeah, and face an angry king?” snapped Garnath. “Are you kidding me? No way am I going back there empty handed. We have got to find that girl if it is the last thing we do. Yo, Maiz, what do you think of all of this? Any thoughts, opinions?”
“I am not Maiz,” Maizer said pessimistically. “I am just a codfish, Jolly Roger by name. I can’t do anything that is not attributed to a codfish. Why ask my opinion? I am just a lowly codfish.”
“Okay, that is enough,” Garnath cut off Maizer. “I have heard enough from your codfish self to last a lifetime. Let’s get going folks, we have got a girl to catch. Remember, she is only a girl, and we are men who went to the barracks school in Merisna.”
“Hey, Maizer the codfish is just a big clod, Gar,” said Claude. “Ha ha! Get it! Claude said the cod was a clod! Isn’t that just great?”
“Shut up with your pointless jokes,” snarled Toulos. “I have heard enough of them to last me a million lifetimes, if even that little.”
“Both of you, cut it out. That is enough. If you two can’t stop, I am going to send you back to King Orlando empty handed, and let him deal with you two. So why don’t you two just shut up and chill for a little while? Let’s get moving. Now, scoot,” ordered Garnath.

With mumbled apologies, and ferocious glares from Toulos to Claude, the four of them set off. They trudged through the day, oblivious to the blinding beauty of the surrounding countryside, intent on only one thing, to find Jocelyn. For the gnawing thought that they would not find her, and face the ire and wrath of King Orlando ever preyed on their minds. In the end, Toulos, Claude, and Garnath each decided they would rather die trying to find her, than die by the hands of their angry king. As for Maizer, he stumbled along, continually muttering that he was only a codfish named Jolly Roger and that he could not be expected to do anything that a codfish did not do. It began to get on the nerves of the others, even Garnath.

“Dratted hills,” Toulous said with a glare at the small dimpled hills that stood about him.
“They are not hills,” Garnath snapped back.
“Just mounds of earth,” explained Claude. “Mounds of earth where men are buried, and where we will too. It’s a graveyard where the hopes of those loyal to Eldor are buried.”
“Oh buck off, Claude,” said Toulos. “I am sick and tired of hearing your sad version of poetry and your sick sense of humour. Why don’t you just go, and get a life?”
“I am perfectly satisfied with the one I have right now,” Claude said quickly. “If you have a problem, bring it up with the Maker.”
Toulos scoffed in disgust. “Surely you don’t believe in some great maker, Claude?”
“It is about as plausible as not believing in one,” Claude shrugged. “It explains where the power of the Varnhyme comes from, in a way.”
“Sure, a twisted and demented sort of way.”
“That is enough out of you two!” Garnath roared. “Are we going to bicker amongst ourselves, or are we going to find that dratted Jocelyn? While you two have been talking, I have noticed that we are about to come upon a camp. And we do not know whether it is of the enemies or not.”
“Why ask me?” whined Maizer. “I am but a simple codfish named Jolly Roger. I can’t know who’s camp it is. I would not have even known it was a camp.”
“Shut up, you,” said Garnath. “Everyone, swords in hand, we do not know what we will find here.”

Cynthia stood on the balcony of the palace, her arms raised to the sky, as she slowly lifted her head towards the heavens. Her eyes turned from their normal hazel and shone the brilliant emerald green.

“They look like eyes that belong to a cat,” muttered Queen Raelle to her husband.
“Shush,” Eldor said. “Though if that is the case, they might look better on you.”
“I thought you said to be quiet, Eldor.”
“Stop getting all catty on me.”
“Show them to me, show them to me by the power vested in me! Show me where they are, let me see them with my own eyes,” continued Cynthia.
“I am sorry you do not like what I say. But you had said to be quiet.”
“I did not say that.”
“Fine, you said shush. It means the same thing.”
“Let me follow the footsteps, let me look upon them, let their cloaks of darkness which shroud them from others fall to the ground.”
“Well you are the one who will not stop talking.”
“You keep talking too, Eldor. So maybe if you would be quiet, others might listen.”
“Let them be displayed before me, a beacon of light compared to the others who wander the streets and halls of Aiulindale.”

All three lapsed into silence. Cynthia looked at the miniature map of Aiulindale that floated before her. She spun it around with her mind, looking for signs of spies. Suddenly two people glowed with a green light. She moved her mind outside of the building and magnified the sign to her mind. Then she slowly lowered her arms and lowered her head. Her eyes turned back from the glowing green to her usual soft hazel.

“There are two spies sitting in a corner table in the Red Raven Tavern,” Cynthia said, turning towards King Eldor and Queen Raelle. “They are wearing long brown woollen cloaks. They are the only spies in Aiulindale, at least at the moment.”

Eldor nodded to the guards and they immediately headed off in the direction of the Red Raven Tavern. Then he turned back towards Cynthia, and together with Queen Raelle he expressed his most heartfelt thanks. Perhaps now Princess Cynthyana would be safe. Perhaps now they would have some sort of hope against Orlando DiCaprio and the army of the Seventeens.

Chapter Twenty One - True Joy?

2004-11-08T08:09:00.000-08:00

Eldor rode into Aiulindale, with Cynthia of the Varnhyme and an honour guard by his side. The citizens of Aiulindale looked out to see what was happening. Curiosity and wonder filled their hearts and they began whispering gossip and queries to one another. When Eldor dismounted at the palace with Cynthia, Queen Raelle came to meet him.

“What are you doing back, o king?” she asked in a cat like manner. “Have you grown weary of the war, that you return in such manner? Or do you rather admit defeat? It is not expected nor wise of the king to return back to his castle without news of the war, nor news of his utter defeat, or complete victory. Which is it, defeat, victory, or weariness of battle, that you come back to us so soon?”
“It is neither, I am afraid. We have not faced the Duke in combat yet.”
“You have not faced him?” cried his wife in shock as they moved through the palace. “Why do you return to us, not having faced him? What is this, you, brave King Eldor, have chickened out? When faced with danger, you turn your heel and flee? Can this be true, o brave King Eldor? Is it brave to chicken out? No, my king, I advise you to explain to me what exactly you are doing back.”
“I have not chickened out, sweet Raelle, my catty queen. I have returned, to protect our daughter.”
“Protect our daughter? What strange ideas have entered your head now, Eldor my king?”
“Do not call them strange, lady queen,” Cynthia said quietly. “It is true. The Duke has proclaimed himself King of Elenaesia in Minelido. He holds not only all of the Seventeens in his grip, but Minelido, Eirtue, and Ge’irdae. He has issued a proclamation that all women and girls by the name of Cindy, or Cynthia, or some variation of that, and all unnamed female babies are to be slaughtered. They are to be shown no mercy. Even now his spies have wormed there ways into all the cities. I have seen it, I know it to be true.”
“And who might you be, young girl, who speaks so freshly, and with such knowledge and authority?”
“I am Cynthia Varnhyme. I have seen this in my window on the world. I have seen the spies in each and every city, heard the death screams of the innocent as they are brutally killed. Even now they work their way through Aiulindale, searching for all who they must kill. The Princess Cynthyana will only be killed upon the deaths of all the others, but she too will die, if nothing is done to save her. You must find the spies in your city, and root them out, and kill them. Not only to save the life of the princess, but the lives of every innocent woman or girl, marked with a death mark for no reason but her name.”

“I will tell you the plan in a bit,” said Orlando DiCaprio. “But, first, come with me. We have an event to attend.”

DiCaprio led Draziw, General Binks, and General Potter outside and down the street. They came to a stop near a pile of sticks, with a wooden stake in the middle. Guards milled around nearby, and servants stood with torches.

“A punishment for someone, perhaps?” asked General Binks.
“How very observant,” said DiCaprio. “You are correct. It is a punishment for someone.”
“A punishment for who?” asked Draziw.
“For someone guilty of treachery,” answered DiCaprio, enunciating each word carefully.

Guards came walking up towards the four of them gathered there, and bowed low before Orlando DiCaprio. Then, after a quick nod from the Duke, they grabbed the arms of Hayden Potter.

“What did I do?” Potter cried helplessly as he was dragged towards the pile, and tied to the stake.
“Do you not know?” asked DiCaprio with a cruel smile on his face.
“I do not understand, my lord King!” he said with a cry, his face twisted in anguish.
“Oh really? I somehow doubt that very much, Potter. You have been found guilty of treachery.”
“You have no proof!” But Potter knew that it was hopeless.
“Oh really? What about a conversation you held with several others? Several conversations? Draziw is of the Varnhyme, Potter, do not underestimate him.”
“Please! I am sorry! I was wrong! I shall give you my loyalty!”
“Your loyalty means nothing to me Potter. Guards?”
“Yes, my lord King Orlando?”
“Torch him.”

Kathryn buried her head in Jessica’s shoulder, freely crying, if only because of the sheer joy of being able to see. She knelt down then, and embraced Yoran quickly. The three of them were waiting for Edmund to return from the treasure chamber of Mara’s lair. While she waited, Kathryn went to go talk to Mara and Klicati.

A little while later Edmund came back up the passage way. Kathryn jumped up to greet him.

“Edmund! Did you find it?” she asked quickly.

He nodded quietly, and went over towards Mara. They spoke in low voices for awhile, their backs turned to the others. He lifted a stone from under the velvet fabric he had carried it in, and showed it to Mara. They continued to talk some more, while the others waited. At long last they turned back towards where Klicati, Kathryn, Jessica, and Yoran waited. Mara snorted and let smoke hiss through her nostrils.

“Come,” Mara said, “We must be off if we are to reach the king. You will ride on me!”

Mara led them outside and stretched her mighty red wings aloft and then folded them back at her side. As she shook her head, the others mounted the huge beast. Then, with a big breath of fire and smoke, she unfolded her wings and gracefully flew into the sky.

Kathryn was awed by the view from above, glancing down at the sweeping landscape of Elenaesia filled her with wonder and joy. Edmund glanced back at her, and saw her joyful smile, and the shining light in her eyes. He had never known such happiness could exist before, the sheer wonder of it seemed to overwhelm him. He wished with all his heart he could look at the world as she did, that it was perfect with but a few blemishes. That all was beautiful and happy, with but a few tears to wipe away. He glanced into her eyes, and saw in there love, love for all, probably even for that slimy Duke.

Suddenly her words of before echoed in his mind. You see, Edmund, it is not always what we do that gives us pleasure – there are times when more joy can be gathered from knowing someone else is loving a thing, than loving it yourself. And suddenly he understood. It was as if understanding watched over him in a wave of fresh water. He may not love everything the way she did, but when he saw Kathryn with that smile on her face, and the look of love in her eyes, it gave him more joy then he could ever gain from loving everything himself. But was it always true, he wondered. In every instance, in every case, was it true that you could gain more joy from knowing someone else loved something, than loving it yourself. He wanted to ask her, but he knew now was not the time.

That evening, after his turn for night watch, he fell asleep more quickly than he had expected too. And as he slept, a dream overtook him.

“Edmund! Edmund!” a voice called. “Edmund, look into your heart, see what is there. Do not be afraid of what you may find. It is this fear that blinds you to what is going on outside. This fear will blind you, and in blindness, you will not see.”
“But Kat was blind, and she was not afraid,” he protested weakly.
“In her physical blindness, she found other sight. You can physically see, but will you be blind in other ways? Think about it, Edmund. Search your heart.”
“I do not understand.”
“No, you do not. Search your heart to find understanding.”
“Who are you?”

She came into his vision, his dream, as if upon a cloud. No mist, just fading into view, her white hair, lying flat against her back, her feet hidden among the clouds, her hands slowly picking off the petals of the flower she held, singing the child’s song of love. Plucking the last petal, and finishing the song she raised her head to face him.

“Come with me,” the voice came, and he realized it was from her, but the music was different this time. She played a different tune. “Come with me, let me show you a glimpse into the future. The choices will be yours to make, and whether this is how it turns out depends on what choice you choose.”

He followed her, taking the hand she held out to him, as she helped him onto her cloud. Then she brought him to the edge, and bade him look down below. The sight below him swirled and twisted until forming a blurry shape. He could see a tall man with flowing golden hair and a green stone embedded in the hilt of his broadsword. Next to that man stood another, a long white beard, and a midnight blue robe trimmed with silver stars and eyes to match his robe. Edmund could barely hear their muffled voices rising on an unseen breeze to meet him.

“I . . . Stone found . . . the cost. Do . . . understand . . .? I . . . not care . . . dies, . . . find . . . Stone.”
“Yes, o . . . king. I have looked . . . my . . . held . . . Edmund.”
“Edmund?”
“Yes. He . . . north. Where . . . I . . . know. Do . . . have . . . he . . . to us.”
“If . . . not . . . with him . . . killed.”
“Yes . . . mortal king.”

Then a blinding flash came and everything swirled and twisted again forming the blurry picture into confusion, only to be replaced by nothingness. Another vision took it’s place, spiralling into view. This time he saw the faint outline of a girl, her eyes a brilliant emerald green, facing a girl who looked like Kathryn. He did not know what exactly the expression on the green eyed girl’s face was, but it looked like anger. Her mouth moved, but he could not hear the words. Then lightening flashed and danced in the sky, as the girl with the green eyes seemed to command it.

Before he could make sense of it though, it disappeared and was replaced by still another. This time, the ancient torc was being raised high and then lowered onto the head of a kneeling man. The man stood up, raising a stone into his hand, as it shone with an unearthly light. Then a blurred object came flying through the air, and imbedded itself in the back of the man. Blood pooled everywhere, and he collapsed to the ground, just as the vision disappeared, along with the cloud.

“Now you have seen the visions. Before you are still the choices to be made.”

Chapter Twenty Eight - The True King

2004-11-08T07:57:00.000-08:00

“Did you bring the boy?” asked DiCaprio anxiously, his eyes scanning the crowds for any sign of him.
“Some Ligon showed up and carried him off with her mouth or something,” said General Binks. “But do not worry, I have brought to you the Stone of the King. I did take it from him, so that way he would not accidentally “lose” it along the way.”
“So you believe this Ligon carried him off to her den to eat him?”
“I know not, my lord King Orlando. I merely know that the Ligon carried him off in her, or his, mouth.”
“But you do have the Stone of the King you say?”
“Yes, my lord King Orlando.”
“Give it to me then! Do not keep it for yourself.”
“I would not do such a thing, my lord king. Vladisk!”
“Yes, my lord General Binks? What is it that you wish for me to do for you, my lord General Binks?”
“Bring me the Stone of the King.”
“Yes, my lord General Binks. As you say, my lord General Binks.”
It was all Binks could do to keep from using his sword to knock the head of Vladisk from it’s position on his shoulders to a new position lying on the ground. “Hurry up, Vladisk!” he cried impatiently.
“Yes, my lord General Binks. Here is the stone you requested, my lord General Binks. What do you have for me to do now?”
“Fight, for goodness sake, Vladisk! Fight the enemy! Stop your dillydallying, and just fight. Here you are, my lord King,” he finished, bowing briefly to DiCaprio.
“Thank you General Binks. I assure you, your loyalty to me is most appreciated. Most appreciated.”

With that DiCaprio walked away, going back past the army, making sure not to be seen as he slipped through the shadows.

The scout came rushing back to King Eldor, waving his arms in frantic excitement, or was it worry?

“My lord King! My lord King!”
“What is it? Speak quickly now!”
The scout gulped before responding. “It is the army, your majesty! They are surrounded! The main army is attacking from the South, but there is a company attacking on the north side of the camp.”
“That is not good. Prepare the army for battle. We ride into the fight, not come before it as we had hoped. Octavian!”

Octavian appeared with Edmund from around the other side of a small clump of trees. The two had been talking along the way, and became quite good friends.

“Yes, my lord? What is it you wish for me to do?”
“Bring me my armour. We are riding into the battle already. And Octavian, you will not wait on the sidelines as was our custom. Instead, you shall fight in the battle alongside the rest of us. Quickly bring me my armour, and then you and Edmund must prepare to fight. Oh, and Yoran also!”
“Yes my lord.”

Octavian hurried off to get the armour for the king from one of the pack horses. There was not very much, but Edmund insisted on helping anyways. Bringing the armour back to King Eldor, they helped him into it, and then handed him his sword. Once he was armed and ready to fight, they went to find Yoran and prepare for battle themselves.

“There you are Yoran!” called Edmund. “I was wondering where you had gotten too. Are you ready to fight?”
“Ready, I am, young Edmund. Now ask you the question I do. Ready are you for the battle we are about to enter?”
‘I am as ready as I suppose I will be. Or can be for that matter. How about you Octavian?”
“I am ready,” he said with a nod. “Earlier I would have thought this to be such fun, but, alas, or rather fortunately, I no longer view it as such. I hope that we survive.”
“I would rather die than live under DiCaprio’s rule,” said Edmund thoughtfully. “As for me,” his mind suddenly flashed back to his first conversation with Kathryn. He quickly drew his mind back to the present. “As for me, I hope that we win.”
“Is there something, or someone that you do not want to have to live through the rein of DiCaprio, should we happen to lose?” asked Octavian curiously.
“Yes,” Edmund found himself saying.
“Does she know?” said Octavian.
“No, she does not. I wish that I could have realized this before we left. What if I die, Octavian? I wish I could have told her, at least then my heart would be lighter. I may die, and she would never know.”
“Do not think like that. You will not die, Edmund. Instead, after the battle is done, tell her yourself. If you do die, I promise you this, I will tell her for you.”

Edmund looked deep into Octavian’s eyes, and Octavian looked into Edmund’s. There they saw true friendship and kinship. Grabbing each other in a hug, Edmund blinked back the tears that had suddenly found their way to his eyes. Instantly Yoran pushed them to the ground, as arrows whistled over head. Jumping to their feet they unsheathed their swords and joined the battle’s fray.

“Reinforcements my lord king!” cried a soldier to DiCaprio. “From Aiuilindale!”
“This is not good,” muttered DiCaprio. “Draziw!”
“What is it?” asked the Varnhyme as he approached.
“I need you to begin your assault, they have just gotten reinforcements from the capital city. We can not allow this. You must begin now.”
“Am I to be dictated to by a mortal?”
“You yourself are not immortal, Draziw. Just remember that.”
“Still you dictate to me! How can you do this?”
“More easily than you know Draziw.”
“Very well. I will begin.”

Draziw walked toward the battle, and then raised his arms to the sky. He lifted his head, and his eyes glowed their shimmering green. He murmured in the ancient language, and commanded the stones to do his bidding. He danced them in the air, and rained them on the heads of the army of King Eldor.

“Raise shields!” cried the king as he brought his above him.

Edmund and Octavian did so, working their way towards the king, for they saw the shield of some unfortunate soul lying on the ground that appeared to be the right size for Yoran to use to protect himself from the stones. Just as Edmund grew near to Eldor, the word glowed again on his shield, the torc on the head of King Eldor glowed, and the stone that wedged in between the king’s belt and his waist glowed as well. Draziw stopped his rain of stones, and the battle around Eldor and Edmund stopped as well. A mist rolled in, and Heather the Sage appeared.

“The days of the True King have come,” she said, her musical voice sounding sweet and heavenly. “Ligon’s breath has brough light to the darkness. Now the breath of the Ligon has shown to you truth of the true monarch’s name. The time is upon you, but it is up to you as to what to do with the time given to you.”

The mist rolled back, and with it Heather the Sage. Everyone turned to one another, and gasped. For the word that was glowing on the shield of Edmund was but one word, and read thusly, ‘Edmund.’

DiCaprio turned to Draziw and General Binks, who had come over at the sight of what had just happened. His face was twisted and angry, and hatred sped through his blood.

“This is an outrage I will not suffer any longer,” he said, barely keeping his temper in check as he spoke with them. “Draziw, you will continue to wreak havoc on them. General Binks, you will be in command of the army. And if you live past the battle, I would sincerely hope and pray to whomever it is you pray to, that I am in a good mood. At least, that is what I would do if I were you.”
“Yes, my lord king,” said General Bink with a bow. “May I be so bold as to inquire as to what it is your most royal majesty will be doing while we carry out your orders?”
“You may,” said DiCaprio through gritted teeth. He drew his sword and pointed towards Edmund. “I will be personally seeing to it that Edmund dies. Now go, before I change my mind and order your deaths now.” He turned towards where the young man stood, looking in shock at his shield, and at King Eldor, and then at Octavian and Yoran. “EDMUND!” he called out to him.
“What is it that you want, DiCaprio?” came the answer as Edmund turned towards him.
“I challenge you to a battle to the death.”
“And what about the others?” asked Edmund as he moved a few paces closer to DiCaprio.
“The others will do as they see fit. My general will be commanding the attack, but if your mangy friends wish to be slaughtered while watching us fight, than that is your problem.”
“Do not go!” whispered Octavian as he grabbed Edmund’s arm. “You do not need to accept his challenge. Please, Edmund, my lord, do not fight with him in open combat.”
“It is what must be done, Octavian. Yoran, and Octavian, stay with the king. I must go face DiCaprio. If I die, Octavian, please, tell the Lady Kathryn, that I love her.”

Octavian nodded, he could not bring himself to speak. He released the arm of Edmund, and watched as Edmund accepted the challenge give to him by the Duke of the Seventeens.

“Very well then, DiCaprio, I accept. You and I shall duel then, til one or the other of us will die.”
“So let it be written, so let it be done!” roared DiCaprio, as he brought his sword up to deliver the first blow of the duel.

Chapter Twenty Seven - The Battle Begins

2004-11-08T05:47:00.000-08:00

Mara snorted as they watched Edmund, Yoran, and Eldor leave with a company of men. She was upset that the king had not allowed her to go. Kathryn turned to Mara with a smile.

“Patience, Mara. Your time will come. We all have a part to play in this world around us. We all have a piece to act in the play that is made up of the world. We can not rush things that are not meant to be rushed. Each act must be played out in its own timing.”
“Yet I am not content to stay here,” said Mara with another breath of fire. “I want to go with Edmund and Yoran and fight. If I had to give you the Stone of the King, I should be able to help you defend the right to keep it.”
“We can’t always do what we want when we want to, Mara,” said Kathryn.
“But sometimes we need to do things without the foreknowledge or permission of the ruler above us,” said Cynthia simply. “Orlando DiCaprio has a Varnhyme with him. Our army can not stand for long against such power.”
“What then can we do?” asked Jessica nervously. “We have no way of warning them, do we? And surely, would not Sir Uncle, that is, Sir Paulo, would not he know of such presence with the Duke’s army?”
“Not if the Duke has not yet attacked, my lady,” said Cynthia. “I do not believe that the Duke, if he has attacked yet, would reveal the presence of the Varnhyme with him, until he was sure that the Varnhyme would need to be used.”
“You have that power though,” Kathryn spoke quietly. “If there is anyone who can save the army of the king, it is you. Take Mara, she will bear you hence. Then you can both help.”
“I know not if your Ligon friend would bear me,” Cynthia said cautiously.
“I will bear you. We shall go when you are ready.”
“I am ready any time.”
“Then mount my back! We shall go now! Farewell, Lady Kathryn, and Lady Jessica! And farewell, Klicati – may we riddle again some day soon.”

With that Mara climbed the sky, her red form shining in the sunlight. Cynthia held on, and together they flew south from Aiulindale to the plain where the two armies would meet in battle.

“The scouts have spied the enemy sir!” cried a runner breathlessly as he dashed into the camp. “They are coming! They will be upon us shortly, for they are riding hard, and their horses have energy. They could not have come all the way from Merisna then, for the horses appear to be well rested.”
“Thank you, Bob,” said Sir Rupert. He motioned for another soldier to come. “Go, at once, Bob, my boy, bring this news to Sir Paulo. He must know of this immediately!”

But the words need not have been spoken. For all could see the banner of the House of DiCaprio, crossed with the royal banner of Elenaesia flying in the wind. Trumpets sounded the war cry of the Seventeens, and horsemen appeared charging over the hill.

“To arms, Elenaesia!” cried Sir Thanet cried. “To arms!”
“Let us beat back the fiendish foe,” shouted Sir Evyn. “To arms, Elenaesia, to arms!”

With a mighty cry, and a deafening blast on the trumpets, they drew their swords and prepared to meet their enemy in open battle. Those near horses quickly mounted them, the others remained on foot. Blow after blow was dealt from the soldiers of the Seventeens, and blow after blow was parried by the soldiers of the King. Some of the men who served in the army of the Seventeens under Duke DiCaprio began shouting insults at those in the army of the king.

“Stupid fools,” muttered Sir Taran. “Anyone would know that it is not proper manners to insult those who you fight against.”
“It is the mark of dishonour, and of a coward,” agreed Sir Caspian, coming up next to Sir Taran. “I wish that we had more honourable foe to face.”
“What must be done, must be done, Sir Caspian,” answered Sir Taran, while ducking the blow of a soldier riding past. “And in this case it means fighting against our kindred. If I had a choice I would not be here, but my duty lies with my king.”
“Then why do you not fight alongside us?” cried a soldier from nearby. “Why bother with pretenders such as your Eldor? Why not join his majesty King Orlando?”
“What reason have we to join you there? Eldor is our king! Why should we join with forces who challenge the right of the king to his throne?”
“You will regret those words, some day, foolish knight,” warned the soldier. But before he could say anything else, an arrow found its way into his heart.

Sir Paulo urged his men on as he swung his mighty sword. Indeed, he truly was a force to be reckoned with. He did not fear the enemy, his only fear was for the safety of Elenaesia. And he was willing to do what was needed to defend the freedom of his country. They had been caught off their guard however, and it would take hard work for them to be able to win this battle. They could do it though, they would have to. The future of Elenaesia hung in balance here.

Orlando DiCaprio urged his men onward. Today would be a red day, the night would be a red night. The blood of those who had dared to oppose him would be spilt. Revenge for the dishonour shown to his family would be taken. All that once was lost would be regained. And proof he would have when General Binks came with the boy and the Stone. He was happy. He uttered a cry in a language not spoken by those present, and raised aloft his mighty sword. Eldor would fall today. His family would be avenged, and he would hold the throne of Elenaesia. All around him his men fought. He only cared that they fought hard enough and well enough to win this battle. They were but pawns to him, only useful in achieving his goals.

The soldiers of the army of King Eldor were not expecting an attack so soon. They were somewhat disarrayed and not organized. Some were not even in full armour yet. It would not take them long to crush the army of the usurper to the throne, and then, then Elenaesia would once again know a true king.

Sir Taliesin was rallying troops about him. A plan suddenly came to him, and he worked furiously to get some breathing room so as to put his plan into action. As soon as he was able, he motioned for several soldiers to accompany him with a nod of his head. Sneaking away from the battle, they moved close to the ground towards one part of the unguarded side of the army of Orlando DiCaprio. Then, the Knight gave the signal, and yelling at the top of their lungs they rushed right into the middle of the army, through that weak spot. They swung their swords with all their might, the blood fury of old upon them.

The fury came upon them, they looked neither to the right nor to the left. Intent on but one goal - cutting the numbers of the enemy down by as much as they possibly could, and then cutting down some more. Taliesin swung his sword vehemently, and did not care how he killed them, what only mattered was that they died.

Soldiers of the Seventeens cried out that more reinforcements had come from Aiulindale. Many other soldiers under DiCaprio broke off from the frontal attack on the main body of those under Sir Paulo, and came to beat off the large numbers that had been exaggerated to them by those who had but seen a bit of the blood fury that was upon Sir Taliesin and the soldiers with him. Taliesin barely took the time to steal a glance towards the main body of Elenaesians. They had seized the opportunity he had given to them, and were making good use of it. After that fleeting glance he turned his full attention back on the matters at hand. He dearly hoped that the blood fury did not leave him, for if it did he would be one man surrounded by countless soldiers of the opposing army.

Then trumpets sounded the war cry of the Seventeens, and everyone paused briefly enough to get a look at who was arriving. There, from the north, came more men, dressed in the armour and uniforms of the Seventeens. The slight glimmer of hope that had lit itself in the hearts of Sir Taliesin, Sir Paulo and the others diminished at the sight of these men, so newly arrived.

There followed after this much fighting and slashing and cutting and biting and shedding of blood and whatever other red velvety substances that could be found in a persons body. The author could of course have included this, but decided against it. The reason for it is very simple. The author has been threatened by worried parents that this would be too bloody and gory and in all other ways inappropriate for a child under the age of twelve (at least) to read. So, in order to remain in the good graces of such wonderfully (and in some ways, overly) protective parents, and ensure that this book will still be read, the author decided to cut some of the fight out, and instead skip to the part where the Duke, or rather King Orlando, as he is now styling himself as, meets up with the much loved General Binks, and the General’s faithful sidekick, the giant Vladisk.

The author is quite well aware of the fact that you wish to move on with the story, but felt that it would do all the readers some good if the author put in a bit about Vladisk. Often times, when we think about giants, we think about the one in Jack and the Beanstalk, or we would think about Fezzick from the classic tale the Princess Bride (which, by the way, as you may or may not have noticed, is hand written and calligraphed by one of the students at the academy. He is not a giant in that regard, but he is taller than most, and, some would argue, larger than most. But not fat of course. It does not do for one to have someone be fat if they are to be fighting in the army of the King.

Before we jump back into the story, the author would like to do a response to some of the things about not yet mentioned, but is very interested in pieces that show up in Liturgy, or other such services. The first thing that came across the author’s mind was whether or not the army of King Eldor really had made some progress after all, or whether it was all a ready to collapse in a wreck for they had no point in living, seeing as all their trees and or churches were to crowded. So, we will take a look at Eldor’s army.

Apparently they had been making some more progress, despite what they lost when General Binks showed up. Sir Taliesin’s outlandish plan had been going along quite fine as well. The problem was that reinforcements for the wrong people showed up. So, in reality, the author notes, the army of Sir Paulo, or Eldor, King of Elenaesia, was not in good shape. We will now return to the scene of the crime, oops, er, we mean scene of the battle, where we will find General Binks and King Orlando discussing possibilities for quite a lot of things.