Gaia-Town - 3. Queen

Queen

“I’m sure my king there is a better route for you to take,” Count Fenrall said, nodding his head. He was standing before King Damosh II and his entire court. The count had arrived only a few days earlier at Quorish-Keep to make the case for NOT using Gaia-Town as the royal base camp. He was having a hard time of it though. The other nobles assembled here had been as adamant as the king. The best chance for conquering the dwarves and elves in the Ziniths and the Duranic Mountains was through the heart of the Gaian Valley, according to them.

“Are you telling me you won’t abide by your oath to welcome your king and his army in?” Damosh said raising an eyebrow.

“Not at all, my king. It’s just I believe the supply lines would be so long and…”

“Are you suggesting we cannot get supplies from the Gaian Valley?” the king thundered. The count paused to collect his thoughts and watched the man turn red with rage.

“Not at all, my king. It’s just we don’t have such abundance as to feed and care for an army the size that’s being suggested,” Fenrall stammered.

“Perhaps his majesty backed the wrong horse,” The Queen said, arching her brow. “Maybe my darling husband should have chosen your cousin, the late count’s son instead of you.”

The king looked at his wife and winked. “Yes. If you can’t manage the lands in a productive way, I should award Bentan the manse in Gaia-Town. After all, he is the direct heir.”

“My king. I assure you the people of the Gaian Valley are hardworking folks but our small valley isn’t as populous as other parts of your magnificent kingdom,” Fenrall took a deep bow while still eyeing the king respectfully.

“We are invading the dwarf and elf lands through Gaia-Town and that’s my final word,” the king said nodding his head. “You’d better get your “folk” to start saving up because we’ll need food, fodder, and all the other necessities an army requires. Do you understand Fenrall?”

“I do my king. We will graciously keep the king and his army fed and taken care of during the campaign,” Count Fenrall said with as obsequious a smile as he could muster.

“My king, if I may,” the count heard the queen say again. He looked over and was again struck by her creamy white skin, long jet black tresses, and prominent eyes painted with kohl. Her eyes especially revealed the cruel nature of the woman. All the count could think was, ‘what now?’

“Yes my love, what is it?”

“While the count is here and answering your questions, he should explain to you why the Luxellium ore shipments of late have been so much smaller,” she smiled wickedly at the trembling man before them.

“Excellent question, my dear. What say you?” the king said scowling.

“I didn’t, Harrol, please come here,” Fenrall said. “One moment my king.”

Fenrall whispered and his steward whispered back. The two had a feverish exchange while Damosh and the queen watched expectantly. Finally, Harrol the steward raced back behind the count and bowed repeatedly.

“My king. There has been a small interruption as the rich veins close to the surface have been depleted. We are digging more deeply and the supply will return to normal,” Fenrall said, smiling hopefully.

“My king, it seems the count is as lax with his mining slaves as he is with the other “folk” of the county,” the queen sneered at Fenrall.

“Another deficit my dear subject? Perhaps it is time to revisit my decision about who to place in the Gaia-Town manse,” Damosh laughed.

“I assure you my king, the supply will increase when we get to the more remote veins. The Siffles are working very efficiently my king,” Fenrall said watching the queen and not the king now.

“What are these Siffles you speak of?” the king asked.

“Servants for life, my king. We don’t want to provoke our father god Qe by calling them slaves, my king,” Fenrall explained.

“You believe that rot,” Damosh laughed again. “You think Qe is going to come down and smote me?”

“My king, we shouldn’t make light of such things,” a man in priest robes to the left of the thrones said, clearing his throat. “Qe is a benevolent god but can be riled into vengeance if scoffed at.”

“Oh, I see. The high priest of Qe must stand up for the gods. Oh, well, then your Siffles are lazy, my dear subject, and should be whipped into producing more,” Damosh snickered. “Otherwise my very close and present army will take over the operation from you.”

“I assure you the shipments will increase, my king,” Fenrall said bowing and hoping this audience would end soon. Everything he’d come to court to achieve was blowing up in his face. Trade with the dwarves and elves had already ground to a halt because of the rumors of war. An actual attack would make sure that nothing was bought and sold from that quarter. On top of it, he’d have the king and an army of up to thirty thousand souls breathing down his neck and feeding off the county. This was a disaster. He’d thought he could persuade Damosh to go an alternate route, since he seemed convinced war was the only way forward. If only he, Fenrall, been able to negotiate a treaty with the mountain folk and the Surando throne, this could have been avoided. That hadn’t worked either.

“I’m tired of all this,” Damosh said. “I have soldiers to train and generals to plan with. Is there anything else my dear subject?”

“No, my king. That was all I wanted to request of you. We will be honored by your presence in Gaia-Town.”

“Oh, it won’t be me leading the army in the field. It will be the Prince. It is he you will contend with,” Damosh grinned and chuckled. “Prince Vell is quite excited about conquering the mountains for the kingdom.”

“Well, in that case we will take good care of the prince my king,” Count Fenrall said. He thought, ‘well at least there’s that.’

The king, rotund and limping, got up and took the hand of the lithe queen who walked hand in hand from the hall. As the door to the private chambers closed, the other counts, dukes, and barons roared in anger at the delegation from Gaia-Town. As members of the King’s court, they were furious at Fenrall for upsetting the royal couple.

The count and his group slipped out the door, toward the guest quarters of the palace. Fenrall couldn’t take one more insult right now.

Meanwhile, in the private quarters…

“That went well,” Damosh smiled at his wife, Klisha, watching her own grin widen.

“It did, my king. I think you put the man on notice he has certain responsibilities that you are making him accountable for,” she said, her eyes flashing.

“My father always told me the nobles are the tools of the king and to keep them sharp,” he said.

“You’re are so wise, my king,” Klisha gushed holding his arm tightly. “If you don’t motivate the nobles to extract more from the people, they won’t do so.”

“My love, I don’t give a damn about motivating anyone. I’m the kingdom and if I will it, it will be so,” Damosh puffed up his chest. “They are just the implements to use or toss away if broken or bent. My will be done.”

Klisha cooed and brushed his arm affectionately. The King bade her farewell and headed for his drawing room where the country’s generals were assembled. He’d chosen the eldest sons of several Suri lords for this mission. It was a way to give the younger generation some practice. Damosh had plans beyond conquering the stubborn magical folks in the mountains. He didn’t share that with his wife, for good reason.

“Helma, get me the blue Andoan frock,” Klisha ordered beginning to unhook the Suri receiving gown she despised, a hideous bright yellow like the Suri flag. The queen felt like a traitor whenever she had to put the hideous thing on.

Damosh was a fool and a moron. He thought if he “willed” something it should be done like he was a god. Nonsense. A kingdom is run by cajoling and persuasion, not fiat. It was just like the moron’s father before him. That man was odious and common, but he was shrewd. Her husband wasn’t shrewd. He was as dumb as a block of wood.

Damosh the First was a horrible man, but he knew how to fight and to conquer. Klisha could still remember the night they surrounded their tower in Magekeep and forced her grandfather to surrender. It was heartbreaking to watch her proud father’s father in chains and wearing dirty rags kneeling before that pretend king.

It was because of traitors that Damosh was able to conquer Ando and make it a vassal of the Suri. Her father, who would become Archmage, defected to the bastard King Damosh and therefore was able to retain some power as head of the Andoan region. It was only by tricking Damosh that her father escaped the fate of the others. The old king thought her father was a loyal subject when instead he’d planned to pay the Suris back for their overreach.

After the war, she remembered how her father banished the traitor mages from the boundaries of the old country. Kenwald, Yerwald, and Thoewald were among the traitors who helped Damosh I subjugate the Andoan people.

She hoped they were all rotting in the streets of some backwoods town. Klisha started as her handmaiden began removing the receiving gown from her arms and waist.

“Thank you Helma. You are my only tie to my home I have left to me,” the queen sighed.

“I’m here for you, my q ueen, whatever you need,” the raven haired woman said bowing her head.

“Have you heard from the other servants about my son leading the invasion?”

“I hadn’t heard,” the maid said putting the dark blue Andoan wool gown up for the queen to step into.

“I don’t know what the king is thinking having our son do something like that,” Klisha said shaking her head. “The kind of swords Vell likes to play with aren’t going to conquer the dwarves and elves.”

Helma snickered. The queen was right about that. The prince was a very smart and sweet boy but he was hardly the warring conqueror type. Vell was more into his frocks than his archery.

“What do you think of the king’s plan?” Klisha asked looking in the mirror as she adjusted her dress.

“I think it’s very brave and noble,” Helma said catching her mistress’ eye. “I wonder if it will succeed.”

“Of course it won’t,” the queen giggled. “That’s how we get back to Ando. The Suri army will be trapped in the dwarf mines and elven forests and cut to pieces. With his army in tatters, the king will be vulnerable, very vulnerable, don’t you think Helma?”

“As you say, my queen. I do miss Magekeep,” Helma mused. “It’s lovely when the ravens fly at sunset.”

“Yes it is, and I think we may be able to go home within the year. My father is quite sure this will free us from this shabby place.”

“Yes, my queen,” Helma said and brushed Klisha’s shiny black hair. “We will be able to go home.”

*************

In another corner of the castle…

“So, how do I look?” the prince asked his companion.

Bentan smiled and nodded to the prince. He couldn’t say how ridiculous the boy looked. No, he wasn’t a boy anymore but he still looked like one. Damn, Vell didn’t look like a boy either. He looked like a girl, in spite of the uniform with the short tunic and leggings.

Prince Vell had such a feminine look and his mannerisms were even more like that of the fairer sex. He had wide hips, thin shoulders and wore his hair to the middle of his back. Even when he tied it back, his delicate facial features and bright brown eyes were more seductress than seducer. The prince held his head at an angle that coupled with his coquettish smile was very effeminate.

Bentan didn’t really care, he shared the prince’s predilection for the company of other males in bed, but it was worrisome. He’d decided the only way he’d get back HIS County was to get the prince on his side. It had been surprisingly simple to befriend and then bed the young man. Vell was head over heels in love with him and if he played his cards right, Fenrall the Gaian Valley pretender, the false count, would be tossed aside and he given his rightful place.

If only his father hadn’t made that deal with the king leaving him without a land to rule.

For that, Bentan could play the suitor to the princess, um, the prince.

“I think it looks amazing on you. You look like a conquering hero,” Bentan smiled broadly.

“Do you think this brocade is too much? I think it makes me look a little too fancy, though I love it. The gold thread brings out the flecks in my eyes, don’t you think?” the prince giggled, like a little girl.

“The brocade is perfect. It really gives it a zing,” Bentan said. “Now, why don’t you come over here and I’ll take it off you.”

“You’re such a tease,” Vell giggled again. It grated on Bentan’s nerves. This was the heir to the throne? How would he ever command men?

“I’d like to see you out of the uniform, if you don’t mind,” Bentan flirted.

“You are such a goat, dear man. I’m not your toy,” but the prince batted his long lashes at his companion. “I never thought I’d have a boyfriend who was such a rutting stud.”

“My prince, I think you like that about me,” Bentan reached out to the Vell.

“You know I do,” Vell said and kissed him. “But, first I have a favor to ask.”

“Does it involve my tongue?” Bentan teased.

“No silly,” Vell batted the larger man’s shoulder. “It involves father’s plan to having me head the invasion. I’m pretty scared but if you’d come with me, I think I could face those horrible dwarves and elves with some measure of courage.”

Bentan grinned. He’d hoped this would happen. Fenrall couldn’t keep him out of Gaia-Town if he was with the Prince and the army staging the attack. He’d be right there to engineer his comeback by highlighting that corrupt thief’s ineptitude as a ruler. It was well known Fenrall was skimming the region’s taxes for his own personal gain. This was perfect but he needed Vell to beg him. Vell needed to completely depend and owe the man.

“I’m not welcome in Gaia-Town or anywhere in the county my prince,” Bentan frowned.

“Of course you will be my silly pickle, because you’ll be there with me,” Vell bopped the man on the nose playfully.

Bentan cringed at the prince’s use of a childish reference of a male’s appendage. He thought it wise to stay silent about that though.

“The ban is from the king, my love. I can’t go into the Gaian Valley without being arrested.”

“You leave that all to me, pickle. I’ll take care of that quite easily. You see, as commander I get to pick my personal aides and if I pick you Daddy will be forced to lift the ban. It’s as simple as that,” Vell cooed in Bentan’s ear.

“Won’t your father be suspicious of my position?” the man kissed the prince.

“I don’t care what my father thinks,” Vell softly blew into the other man’s ear and whispered. “I can’t be without my pickle that long anyway.”

Shortly thereafter, Bentan left the prince’s parlor and after sponging his body clean, Vell went into his bedroom. He took off the tunic and leggings throwing them angrily into the corner. Vell hated those clothes, what they meant and how they defined him. The prince opened his wardrobe and pulled out a silken nightgown in pale blue with golden stitching. He pulled the gown over his head and settled it on his shoulders.

Vell looked into the silver mirror on the wall, pulling his hair band off letting his tresses fall around his shoulders. He posed a little, watching his beautiful image transform. After a few minutes of brushing his hair and biting his lips so they looked ruby red, he sighed.

“We are so much alike Girdon,” the Prince said sticking pieces of fruit through the food slot of the cage. The brightly colored parrot squawked at the man taking the food from his fingers and moving from side to side on his perch. The bird looked expectantly at Vell cocking his head.

“We are both trapped in cages others made for us,” the Prince offered another piece of fruit which the bird gladly took. “And neither of us would survive long if the cage wasn’t there, keeping us safe.

Vell finished feeding Girdon and took a bottle of wine. It would help him sleep.

He was terrified at what his father expected him to do and what he’d have to become.

********************

At the same time, though a thousand miles away…

Yadrey watched as the ogre-like creature finished sucking the marrow from a bone. It was sitting in front of a dying fire and smacking his giant lips loudly. He’d heard tales of the Buggane as a child who would carry out revenge for the elves when they were summoned. It was a loathsome creature covered in black fur with a massive head and arms.

The creature scared the droppings out of the young red head but something kept him glued to the spot. Yadrey first smelled the smoke which meant a fire and in turn warmth. He was so cold. The next thing that hit his nose was the smell of meat, a sweet meat that had the aroma of pork or boar. That sent his empty stomach roiling as the thought of a meal drove him from the path through the pass and into the forest.

When he saw the ogre munching happily on the leg of something, Yadrey wanted to run. The creature set his hair on end being so large and with so many sharp pointed teeth. But, just as he was about to return to the path, he saw something wondrous.

The Buggane had picked up something, Yadrey later realized it was a kind of hammer, and stuck the dying embers of the fire. They flared up and blazed anew, sending a gentle heat in waves that even he, hiding in the bushes could feel.

It was an amazing feeling considering how cold and damp he was. That was nothing in comparison to the ravenous hunger he felt as the smell of the roasted meat drifted into his nose.

Most of the money Endora had given him was gone. Not long after leaving Gaia-Town and the familiar regions around it, a couple of bandits had relieved him of the coin purse. Yadrey had wisely hidden several coins in his loincloth but that left him with very little money. Since then, Yadrey had kept Zegan’s gift of being unnoticed on though it left him very tired at the end of the day. He’d eaten rabbits snared in the forest twice now and even a rat that had become entangled in his trap. The rat had tasted particularly atrocious but his hungry tongue had munched it down anyway.

Yadrey could wrestle fire from a few twigs and straw using his flint and a stone but it took so long. He’d started to despair this was a fool’s errand. During the day, he questioned this quest running all the way into Ando to find a mage who could be anywhere. It was hard to make himself take each step forward but then came the nights.

At night, Zegan’s voice would fill his dreams talking to him about their future together in tight whispers. They were just remembrances of course, but each morning Yadrey would awaken with new resolve to find Thoewald and make him pay.

Yadrey stood in the bushes and watched the monster bank the fire and whistle a frightening tune in the waning light. If he could just get his hands on that hammer, he could use it to start fires and cook meat. Gods, it was obvious the implement was magical so who knew what else it could do. Perhaps he’d find a nice boar or deer he could slay with the hammer, being the short sword wasn’t up to the task of downing such a large creature.

The hammer meant warmth, food, and protection. Yadrey thought once the creature fell asleep, he’d just sneak out and nab it.

He’d become a thief, imposed on him like a brand. Yadrey’s growling stomach and shivering limbs made their case. He’d take the hammer the gods be damned.

The Buggane curled around a bag and the hammer was lying right next to him. Yadrey figured when the beast was breathing deeply and evenly, it would be asleep enough to venture over and sneak the hammer away. After a time that seemed interminable to his quaking stomach, the ogre began snoring softly. It was a sound that was almost endearing, but Yadrey steeled his spine and snuck into the little clearing and into the glowing light of the embers.

He reached to grab the handle of the wondrous hammer and…

“What do we have here?” the monster roared grasping Yadrey’s arm in an iron-like grip. “We have a thief, do we?”

“Please, let me go,” Yadrey cried, pulling away from the beast. “I was just trying to get warm.”

“Yeah, get warm with my hammer in your hand,” the monster growled and sat up.

Yadrey tried to get the grip of the monster loosened but the Buggane had his other hand on his leg. The monster stood and the red haired man dangled in front of him. Yadrey saw the gaping maw of his mouth and could smell it’s foul breath, not unlike Waldron’s, basting him and making him shiver even more violently.

“Looks like I’m having second dinner tonight,” the monster said and let go of the shrieking man’s arm. The beast took a rope out of his bag and started tying Yadrey’s legs together. “Nothing as tasty as a thief for second dinner.”

“Please, just let me go,” Yadrey pleaded. “I can give you money as ransom, just let me leave.”

The monster paused in wrapping the man’s legs in the rope. “I have no need of money but I’m curious. You aren’t a gnome but you shimmer like one. How do you do that?”

Instead of looking at the open mouth and pointed teeth of the ogre, Yadrey was looking at the puzzled face of the creature. Maybe there was a chance he could talk his way out of it.

“I h-have a gift from my b-beloved who was half-gnome. I-I can walk unnoticed,” Yadrey stammered.

“Huh? Interesting. Well, the human lovers of half-gnomes are just as tasty as any I suppose,” the monster chuckled and finished tying up the red head’s legs. Yadrey noticed he’d finished it with an elaborate knot. It was then Yadrey saw the blackened head. It looked distinctly human. That hadn’t been pork. It was a human the Buggane had been eating.

The monster turned and grabbed the stick, still smoky and black that it had used as a skewer for his dinner. Yadrey realized this wasn’t getting any better. The monster was about to roast him over a fire. ‘Oh Zegan,’ he thought. ‘What am I going to do?’

“Sing to him Yaddie. Sing him that song from the Pickled Parrot,” Yadrey heard in his head.

“What?” he thought back at Zegan’s voice, so near and yet sounding so hollow.

“Sing him Quenell’s song. Just do it Yaddie, it’s our only hope,” Zegan’s voice pleaded.

Yadrey thought he was going crazy. This was certainly not a memory. This was also a ridiculous plan. Yadrey tried to grab the hilt of his short sword but the ogre pulled him up before he could get to it. The sword hilt was wrapped tightly in his cloak.

“Please, let me go,” Yadrey cried. Sobs came out of him in big gusts. The monster looked at him and laughed. It was a blood curdling sound.

“There’s a fire, burning in my soul,” Yadrey called out, trying to remember the words but the tune was there, inside him.

“Reaching a fever pitch, it's bringing me out the dark

Finally I can see you crystal clear,

Go 'head and sell me out and I'll lay your shit bare,” Yadrey sang with all his heart.

He could hear Zegan’s voice inside his head, prompting the lyrics of the bard’s song, the one that launched his quest. He also saw the Buggane stood still, it’s eyes glazed over. Yadrey kept singing the haunting tune of vengeance.

“See how I leave with every piece of you

Don't underestimate the things that I will do

There's a fire starting in my heart

Reaching a fever pitch

And it's bringing me out the dark,”

Yadrey could feel the grip of the ogre loosen on his arm. The beast was mesmerized by the song, whether it was the words or the tune the red head couldn’t know. There seemed to be magic in it whatever that may be. So he continued singing the song, Zegan singing right along with him in his head. If he was going mad, Yadrey figured the voice of his beloved was the way to go.

About halfway through the song, the monster’s hold on the man let loose and he fell to the ground with a thud. Yadrey kept singing and soon the beast curled up on the ground and with his eyes wide open, started snoring, this time loudly.

Yadrey and the voice of Zegan finished the song and it was apparent that had done the trick. The Buggane wasn’t present. He’d been carried elsewhere and the singing spell had done what it needed to.

Yadrey quietly cut the sturdy ropes with the short sword, the whole while keeping a careful eye on the sleeping giant. He had trouble with the knot but that didn’t matter. Once the lengths were cut, the binding fell off him. Yadrey stood up and still holding his sword out, began backing away from the ogre.

“Don’t forget the hammer,” Zegan’s voice piped up.

“I can’t steal that. It would be wrong,” Yadrey argued in his head. “I already got myself into enough trouble.”

“You paid for the hammer with the song. It’s yours Yaddie. Just take it,” he heard Zegan say softly.

Yadrey carefully bent and picked up the hammer, which was lighter than it looked. The monster stirred once, but there was a frightening smile on its lips. Holding the hammer in front of him in case the beast awoke, Yadrey backed out of the little clearing and then quickly went back to the path.

“Zegan, are you still there?” Yadrey thought.

“I told you my beloved, I’m here for you for the rest of your life,” Zegan’s voice cracked. “As long as you’re alive, I’m here with you.”

Yadrey thought about this and a warm feeling began to fill his heart. His hunger was forgotten. The chill to his bones had receded. All that was left was a full, satisfied feeling of Zegan caring for him. Tears fell silently down his cheeks. One errant thought popped into his head.

“Who’s Quenell?” he silently asked Zegan.

“He’s someone special,” his beloved’s voice responded.

Yadrey wiped the tears and headed down the path. Two rangers looked up as he passed but they only felt a little breeze. Yadrey stepped from the pass and across the border into Ando. The first leg of his journey was over.

**************

Endora was chuckling as Dregas entered the room. He saw the handsome dwarf was peering into her mirror which meant only one thing; she was watching someone.

“I got the last shipment of Kirellian wine unloaded and locked up,” he said though she just nodded. “Was there anything else?”

“One moment Dregas. I’m just making sure of something. Then, we can talk,” Endora said, nodding again she came around and kissed his cheek.

“What has you so pleased?” Dregas asked.

“I’m just enjoying all my hard work coming together as I’d hoped.”

“Is your pawn turning into a queen?” Dregas gave her a wry grin. “Because that seems to be when you are the happiest.”

“Not even close, but he’s getting there. Before long Dregas, we will have the perfect tool to make Asmo pay for what he did to you. That is not a debt I will ever forgive,” Endora said touching the swarthy man on the nose. “He’s going to pay dearly.”

“Don’t put yourself into danger,” Dregas shivered. Even thinking of his time as the merchant’s prisoner was more than he could handle without a cold chill passing through him.

“Nothing to worry about my pet. That’s why I play chess. Asmo thinks we’re playing checkers so I always have the advantage,” the dwarf chuckled with an evil grin. “Now, let’s get you to bed.”

‘Rolling in the Deep’: Writer(s): Adele Laurie Blue Adkins, Paul Epworth Copyright: Emi Music Publishing Ltd., Melted Stone Publishing Ltd.