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Prologue
King Rolynt paced nervously across the stone floor in Castle Barus. His
brown hair was plastered to his forehead with a sheen of sweat, and angry drops
trembled and fell to the earth with a splash. He held a cup of spiced wine in his
hands, drinking deeply to calm his nerves, but an anxious demon still gnawed in the
pit of his stomach.
“Your Grace. Lady Erykka will pull through. She is under the fi nest care and
shall have no issues with her labor.” Rolynt
’
s faithful Head Knight,
Dasland Fer
,
rested a hand on his King
’
s shoulder, pressing him down into a chair.
“I pray so. May Mother Iuven grant my child swift passage into this world,
and ease their mother’s burdens.” Rolynt winced as another scream came from
behind the thick oaken doors that held Lady Erykka and the women that served her
during birth. He refi lled his cup with drink, gulping down a substantial amount and
spilling some onto the sapphire colored surcoat that he wore.
“About the child’s birth. How many of them know?”
Dasland
’
s voice was
hushed, looking around the room to confi rm that nobody had entered during the
commotion.
“Enough. I have ensured that not a soul will speak of this. The child will be of
the Barus line; that is all that matters. My lineage will continue, and the Queen
will be satisfi ed.” Rolynt
’
s voice began in a matter-of-fact tone, but gained hesitation
when he mentioned the Queen. “And I trust that you will hold your tongue as well,
Dasland.”
“Of course, Rolynt.”
Dasland
’
s hand went over his heart, his fi st clenched in a
gesture of honor. “But what will you do if the Queen does not accept your decision to
keep the child?”
“She will have to accept.
Scholar Hylda
told her she was
inan
, empty of
children. We have desired a successor for several cycles. Lady Erykka was willing to
provide. Was I to ignore the opportunity for an heir? Let my proud line fall to dust
and ashes for the inability of my wife to bear children?” Rolynt
’
s voice was pained,
and Dasland could see the grief in his eyes as he cast them onto the floor.
“My King, nobody can challenge your rule. There are always those who will
whisper of your deeds, but those matter not. If the Council has been silenced, then
there should be no trouble.” The Knight took a deep drink of wine for himself,
sighing as the spiced liquid warmed his insides.
“The Council has come under possession of quite a large amount of golden
verun
, so I trust that they can keep their incessant gossip to themselves. If not, then
perhaps I shall have to fi nd a few new heads to seat it.” Rolynt
’
s hands relaxed and
tightened intermittently, leaving creases in the fabric of his chair.
“As you wish, My Lord. We have reports of several scouts returning from a
search of the nearby regions, and there has been troubling news. The Elori are
moving across the
Sherut Desert
, and their numbers have grown. One of the Scouts,
Sir Indys, reports that they are attempting to craft ships. They could be wishing to
make landing and gather resources unavailable to the Sherutites.” Dasland pulled a
scroll from his belt, opening up the scouting report and handing it to the King.
“We have enough Knights along the coast of the Tajehm Sea
to prevent any
type of hostile invasion. And the Elori are a
desert
people. They may have the basic
understanding to cross the water, but once they make landing into
Veraxtis
, they
will be met with steel and vigor. I think we can rest easy knowing our borders will
be protected.” Rolynt read through the contents of the scroll, his nod reaffi rming his
words. “See to it that every regiment is drilled and conditioned. We must keep them
fresh and alert if there is war on the horizon.”
“As you wish, Your Excellence. I shall withdraw and make the preparations
before I take my supper.” Dasland bowed once, rolling the vellum up and placing it
back on his belt as he left the room.
“Never a dull moment, a King’s life,” Rolynt mused to himself. Taking a fi nal
pull from the pitcher itself, he strode forward and pushed open the double doors
that barred his heir from the outside world. Entering the birthing room, he was
immediately assaulted by a woman crying out in pain and a handmaiden up to her
elbows in blood.
“Push, My Lady! You
’
re nearly there!” The maiden winced as Lady Erykka
’
s
screams split through the air with a dreadful intensity. Blood had soaked through
her white gown, causing her to frequently stop and wipe sopping hands to no avail
on herself. She cradled the head of the child, coaxing in a gentle voice and patting
Erykka reassuringly on the thigh. A fi nal crescendo ripped through the air,
rebounding off of the walls as Erykka pushed one last time, releasing the child and
dropping her hands over the sides of the table with a loud moan of exhaustion.
“What…” she began, gathering several breaths and accepting a flagon of
water. She drank deeply, paying no heed to the sweaty drips that fell from her nose
into the vessel. At last she set the flagon down, taking a few deep gulps of air before
speaking. “What gender? Do we have a beautiful princess, or a handsome prince?”
“It
’
s a boy, My Lady! You have your Prince!” The handmaiden cooed and
swaddled the babe in cloth, handing him to her mother as she busied herself
cleaning up the table that Erykka rested upon. She called a few maidens over, and
together they carefully lifted up the weeping mother and carried her to a fresh table
with a hollow indentation in the base and a spigot that drained into an earthenware
bowl. “You aren’t quite fi nished, My Lady. Drink this; it will help stimulate you to
push the remaining afterbirth from your womb.” She held the young Prince in her
arms as another maiden pushed a steaming cup into Erykka’s hands.
“As you wish.” Erykka blew gently on the surface of the drink and took a
small sip. Warmth coursed into her shaking body, and a subtle sweetness lay across
her tongue like a blanket. She fi nished the tincture, handing the cup back to the
maiden as a new set of smaller contractions began. Fresh blood and a placenta soon
followed, and the maiden who delivered the baby placed it into a small pot, carrying
it out of the room as Lady Erykka gratefully pulled her son back into her arms.
“Oh, a boy. My sweet, sweet baby boy.” Erykka held him close, tears staining
her face as the Prince hiccoughed and gurgled. She looked up at Rolynt, glowing in
the soft light of the candles as he laid his hand on her arm. “What shall we name
him, Your Grace? I know that you will declare him Serah’s child, but I still wish to
know what the fruit of my womb shall be known as, if you so desire.”
“Of course I desire, Erykka. Without you, I would have no heir, and for that I
owe you. The lineage of the Barus line shall prosper, and if there ever is a need or a
desire that I can accommodate, I trust that you will let me know.” Rolynt reached
down with tender hands, picking up his son and wiping a smear of blood from a
single cheek. The boy had begun to cry, but ceased at his father’s touch, large azure
orbs wide with curiosity. “We shall call him Honar. A boy destined for greatness
deserves the name of a conqueror. My ancestor Honar laid the foundations for this
Castle at the dawn of the Age of Veraxta, after destroying the Elori horde.”
Erykka nodded in affi rmation of the name, shifting herself to a more
comfortable position as she watched Rolynt handle Honar. Servants were already
blotting her body and face with rags, cleaning her of blood and fi lling the room with
the cleansing scents of rosewater and pine. The women moved to the side as Scholar
Hylda entered the room. Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun, and she wore a
plain linen dress dyed blue and bound at the waist with a leather cord. She brushed
a few wisps of hair from her face, giving the King and Erykka a small curtsy.
“May I clean the young Prince, My Lord?” Hylda was a Scholar, one of the
teachers of various arts and knowledge throughout the Realm. Specializing in
medicines and herbs, she was the matron present at all royal birthings. She had
even serviced the Queen herself, keeping silent despite the rumors of infertility that
ran rampant. Each time the Queen had been with child, the offspring she bore had
been frail, a strange color and unmoving from the womb. Rolynt shuddered as he
recalled the tears and begging on his wife’s part, and her wails of anguish as the
remnants of her heirs were scraped from her body. Hylda
’
s knowledge was
unsurpassed as far as the care of children, and Rolynt considered her an invaluable
asset.
“Of course, Hylda. His name is Honar.” Rolynt handed the child over and
watched as the Scholar began to rinse the baby off in a small basin of herbs and
water. The blood and birthing material were cleared from him and he was wrapped
in fresh linens. Hylda placed a small wooden clip on the end of the umbilical cord,
waiting for the pressure to do the work for her, and detached the purple rope from
his belly, leaving a small round button of flesh on his stomach.
“The boy looks healthy. He has your eyes, and strong limbs for his age. He
shall grow up to be a fi ne Prince, My Lord.” She gently rocked Honar from side to
side, whispering to him in a hushed voice to halt his discomfort.
“He will bring peace to this nation after my death, I can be sure.” Rolynt
’
s
eyes glistened as he accepted his child back from Scholar Hylda. He brought Honar
into Lady Erykka
’
s arms and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead as she cried.
“He
’
s so handsome, My Lord. He has your eyes and nose.” Erykka bounced
the baby Honar lightly in her grasp, turning to the Scholar. “I
’
ve never breastfed,
My Lady. How soon should I expect to be able to feed him?”
“As soon as he wishes to suckle, you should permit him, Lady Erykka.” Hylda
shifted her robes and started gathering up the bloody rags and dishes that had been
used to clean the baby, disposing of the afterbirth and umbilical cord. “Make sure
that he has a fi rm latch, and he will be able to feed without causing you too much
distress. Feed him often and long, and he shall grow as stout and hearty as his
Father. If you have any problems, summon me and I shall come at once.” She gave a
single yawn and bowed once to the King and Lady. “I shall leave you to enjoy your
child. May Mother Iuven bless you with full and healthy lifemilk.”
Scholar Hylda turned and left the room in several quick strides, her robes
flowing behind her as she disappeared around the corner. A few moments later,
another fi gure walked around from whence she had gone, and Rolynt felt Erykka
grow stiff beside him.
“Good evening, my love.”
Queen Serah
had her hands clasped in front of her,
an azure gown laced up to expose her shoulders and the barest hint of bosom. Her
skin was pale and freckled, a soft white that lent an almost ethereal quality to her
fi gure. Her lips parted as she exhaled, brushing a lock of hair aside. She took a few
tentative steps forward, her eyes falling on the woman who held her child. Rolynt
saw them narrow just slightly, and then the Queen
’
s face was a mask of radiance.
“Good evening to you as well, my darling.” Rolynt stepped forward to kiss her
on each cheek, taking her hands in his and pulling her close to the bed. “Your eyes
behold our heir, the Prince Honar.” He took the boy from Erykka
’
s hands, holding
his sleeping form up for Serah so that she could see. She took the child in her hands
and smiled softly.
“You named him after your ancestor?” Serah brushed a fi nger across the boy
’
s
cheek, her voice placid so as not to wake him.
“I felt it fi tting for a boy destined for greatness.” Rolynt resumed his in
between Serah and Erykka, patting the latter’s hand once in a gesture of
reassurance.
“He will be great, that is no lie. And I’m sure that any glory he achieves in
life or death will be due to the blood of a
King
which flows through his veins.” Serah
looked towards Erykka as she spoke, an icy tone in her voice as she emphasized
Rolynt’s title. Erykka bowed her head, a flush coming to her cheeks.
"What manner of behavior is this, Serah? I had thought presenting you with
our heir would assuage your hostility towards the Lady Erykka, but clearly I was
mistaken." Rolynt moved to reclaim the boy, but Serah took a step away from him,
moving towards Erykka with a featureless gaze.
"You presumed that presenting me with a child that shares no blood of mine
would forgive your drunken plot to keep the Throne?” All of the kindness had
melted from Serah’s voice in an instant. “You have a child with this woman, and all
is well? The King and Queen rule happily? How could you think that I would be in
league with such foolhardiness?” Her eyes darted between Rolynt and Erykka,
watering in spite of the stone mask that she set her face into.
“Drunken plot?” Rolynt tightened his fi sts at his sides. “The idea may have
been suggested when I was under the influence, but I can assure you that any act I
have committed was on behalf of the Realm, Serah. Do not forget your place by my
side, as I have not by naming this child yours by Royal Decree.”
“Yes, I suppose that makes everything better, does it?” Serah’s voice caught
in her throat as she handed the baby back to Erykka. “A Royal Decree is no
substitute for a working womb, Rolynt. You would do well to remember that the
next time you decide to spill your seed in the belly of a Councilman’s whore
daughter!” She grabbed the hems of her skirts with both hands, fleeing from the
chamber with her sobs echoing in the empty hallway.
“My King, I hope I have not given Serah cause for grief or offense.” Erykka
had curled up into the bed, the mounds of blankets seeming almost to swallow her
frightened features and small body.
“Not to worry. I shall set things right. You watch over Honar and keep him
safe.” Rolynt leaned down and embraced her one last time before escorting himself
from the room. He made the brisk walk from the birthing chambers out into the cold
air of
Quar
, the day that fell fourth in the week. The moon was full and bathed the
castle in a silver light, and Rolynt caught sight of a shooting star arcing its way
across the heavens.
“
Aeterin
,” he began, leaning on a stone balustrade. “Bless my Kingdom with
the strength to prosper. Bless my wife with the heart to see that what I did was for
us. Bless Lady Erykka with protection from those who would wish her harm. And
bless my son with vigilance and honor to lead in my stead.” He fi nished his prayer
to the
Ancient Ones
and looked out at the rolling hills that dotted the landscape of
his kingdom.
The Bajehm
Channel gently emptied out into the moat of Castle
Barus, the current taking it around to where another entrance lead back down and
to the east.
He left the river and the hills, walking along the path alone but for his
thoughts. He found himself opening the doors to his Royal Chambers, a draft of
warm air covering him as he closed the stained oak behind him. Queen Serah was
wrapped in a velvet shawl, the small of her back set aglow by the tallow candles
that cast their orange and yellow light in the room. As the doors clicked shut, she
turned to face him, her eyes red and puffy from her tears. Rolynt crossed the room,
his normally hard countenance softened by the sight of his wife in misery.
“Am I not enough for you, My King?” She let the shawl fall away, exposing
her naked body and pressing herself close to him. Her bare breasts were cold, and
she pulled his hands up to cup them. He took in her scent, lavender fi lling his
nostrils as their mouths met for a passionate exchange of affection.
“Serah. You will always be enough for me, you know that.” Rolynt kissed her
once more and pulled his surcoat over his head. “I did not wish to give you any
pain, nor did I wish to make you question my faith in our relationship. I did not
marry you simply for your ability to produce; I married you because I love you.”
“You love me, and yet you plant your seed in the belly of
Lord Errol
’
s
wife!
You promised me that
we
would keep trying to have a child!” Serah
’
s eyes started
to water again, and her declaration of their marriage cracked as she wailed. She
beat her fi sts on her husband
’
s chest and gasped out ragged coughs and sucking
breaths.
“Serah!” Rolynt
’
s voice was a fi rm whip that cracked through the air and
echoed several times. All noise instantly ceased, save for the Queen
’
s labored
exhalations and the brief flickering of the candlelight. “Enough with this madness.
What was I to do as a King? You were found to be inan according to Scholar
Hylda-”
“
The Niretea
take Scholar Hylda! She
’
s a withered sow who knows naught of
what I have been through as a Queen! She grinds herbs and cleans babes and
thinks that will grant her succor in the Council?” Venom seethed through the
words Serah spat, her anguish turned to malice in an instant.
“Quiet your tongue when you speak the name of the
Darklords
, lest they
sweep into this bedroom and claim your soul as well as your womb!” Rolynt
’
s voice
thundered out his command, and Serah looked at him aghast before her hand
made its mark against his cheek with a forceful snap. The air in the room seemed
to lose temperature at that moment, the candles fi ckle in their decision to stay
alight or decorate the room in shadow. As quickly as the anger had come to Serah,
it faded as well, and she placed her fi ngers over the red mark on Rolynt
’
s face.
“My King…What have I become? The Council tells me they hear the whispers
of the people. They say I am a monster! They say I am unfi t to birth children and
that Mother Iuven has taken my fertility as penance for my sin.” Her voice was
thick with gloom and she sat down on the edge of their bed, shoulders slumped.
“Serah, you must understand why I committed this...this…” Rolynt fumbled
as he searched for the right words. What was it that he had committed? Sin?
Treason? Something far worse that had not yet been named?
“The Gods were right.” Serah murmured under her breath, idly toying with
the lace curtain that hung above the mattress. “I am being punished. This is why
you have done these things. The Aeterin have seen fi t that you will be their
instrument of judgement.”
“Don
’
t speak such folly, my love.” Rolynt sat next to her, pulling her close so
he could wrap his arms around her and lay a kiss on her shoulder. “I was stricken
with grief the last time you attempted to give birth. Perhaps the blame lies with
me. My seed was not powerful enough to bless you with child.”
“But it was enough for Lady Erykka. Your seed is strong, that much is clear
when I look at little Honar.” She spoke the name, rolling it off of her tongue several
times. “But nobody must know of this. What are we to do when the boy is of an age
to be weaned off of breastmilk? Will Lady Erykka accept that the child is ours and
not hers?”
“She did agree to be a surrogate, but does that not seem cruel? To deny a
woman the privilege of seeing her child?” Rolynt
’
s hands tightened on Serah
’
s as he
considered what she might say next.
“Rolynt.” The Queen locked her eyes with him, steely blue orbs that burned
with the fi res of a mother. “I understand that Lady Erykka may have wishes to see
her boy, but as a surrogate, she is only permitted to see him after he has grown up
enough to forget about her. What should we do to staunch the rumours of infi delity
if the boy cries for his mother every time he sees her? And what if she plans to
steal him away from us? To reaffi rm the fact that she now has a partial claim to
the line of Barus?”
“She would do no such thing! Lady Erykka is a frightened woman, just grown
and of substantial heritage to provide a healthy babe. I do not see why allowing her
to see the product of her loins is so wrong.” Rolynt had gotten up and begun to pace
across the tiled floor once more.
“She may not do such a thing, but what of her Father?
Eryk Viras
is a man of
foul temperament, greedy and pious! He claims to follow the virtues of the Ancient
Ones, yet lines his pockets with the barim of those less fortunate.” Serah rose and
walked towards Rolynt, her accusations growing bolder with each step. “He has
killed to get where he is! I refuse to let our claims to the throne be diluted by a
birthing whore and her unruly oaf of a father!”
“Our claims to the throne?” The King
’
s voice grew dangerously quiet, enough
to stop Serah in her tracks. “You were brought into the House of Barus because
your Lord Father saw fi t to marry us to secure your protection. My Father before
me,
Rathyn Barus
, revived the traditions of our ancestor Honar and brought an age
of military supremacy and conquest to Veraxtis! I fell in love with you, not your
damned claims to any throne, and I
’
ll be smitten down to cinders by
Destroyer Abol
before I hear of any half-brained schemes to deprive Lady Erykka of rights to see
the boy who was born of her!” Rolynt sucked in a single deep breath, letting it out
through his nostrils.
Serah
’
s features changed from soft and morose to icy in a single instant.
Rolynt reached out a hand to her, but she slapped it away. “You will regret this
decision, Rolynt.”
“Serah, as my Queen and Wife, you should know better than to threaten me.”
Rolynt squared his shoulders, facing his partner and leaning against a wooden
dresser.
“Aye, and you should know better than to keep your cock from fi nding the
fi rst blushing wife you could and planting a bastard in her gut!” Serah snarled out
the word
bastard
, letting it hang long and treacherous in the air. Rolynt
’
s face
became livid and he took several steps towards the bed, causing her to fall onto the
covers and scramble backwards into the pillows.
“You will speak no more of this, Serah. You will hold your tongue when
commanded, and if anyone inquires, the boy was born of a healthy union between
us. Use it to cover up the rumours that the people whisper of your barren womb.
And if I fi nd out that you have had
anything
to do with keeping Lady Erykka from
seeing her child, with or without you being present…” Rolynt let the threat fi ll the
space between them and turned on his heels, striding from the bedchamber into
the washroom. He started cleansing his beard and face of the sweat from earlier.
Looking into the mirror as fluid ran off of his visage, he observed the bags of skin
underneath his reddened eyes.
“Gods...I look like I haven
’
t slept in a fortnight.” It may have been true at
that point; Rolynt Barus was a man who seldom slept, the worries of the kingdom
keeping him tossing and turning late through the night. He dried his face, stepping
back into the bedchamber and pouring himself a cup of
somnwine
. The special
herbs the scholars heated and mixed with the wine helped him to ease into a
peaceful sleep most nights. He drank deep from silver chalice, sighing in relief as
he climbed into bed next to the Queen. She was already fast asleep and he kissed
her once on the cheek. Serah mumbled once under her breath, faint words not
quite reaching the King
’
s ears. He pulled the coverlet up to his chest, closing his
eyes and losing himself to the blackness of slumber.
