Excerpt - Book Five
March 10th 2010 01:53
The sounds of revelry faded away behind Stag as he walked from the castle. He had taken the seldom used tunnel under the moat which came out in the woods behind the castle. After all these years, from his ancestors to now, it had never been discovered why Goldenstone castle was so well defended. Certainly, it had never been attacked. All her previous rulers had never questioned it, it was, simply, the way things were. She had been built that way. Perhaps it was because he, himself, had some knowledge of war. Perhaps it was because he, himself, had had to penetrate these very walls.
Despite himself, he grinned. So, She had come under attack, at least once. No matter that it had been her ruling king, and she had welcomed him....
He turned back, just a little, to view the bright lights of the castle. Every window was lit up. He could hear the singing and dancing, and the louder pounding which seemed to shake the castle walls. Dragons dancing. It was the biggest celebration Goldenstone had ever seen.
It was a kingmaking.
In the tradition of his ancestors, he had stepped down. All of his line were immortal, in a sense, and when they had handed their crown over to a new ruler, they had begun to fade. A few had not, and had remained about the continent, but for the most part, it was the way. He had undertaken his path not for tradition, but because he wanted to fade.
He had chosen his only remaining son, Lir. With his Queen Annette he had had many children, but each and every one - save Lir - had backed her in the civil war. How his sweet and loving wife had turned the entire kingdom against him for the sake of jealousy he was still trying to figure out. He would never forget the shocking moment of seeing his own troops moving against him, with Annette riding at their head in full battle armour. He could have ended it on the first day, as he commanded the peoples hearts and the dragons, but he had not wanted to kill anyone. That had changed so quickly, when Annette had publicly announced that Alexondra had returned for only one reason - that she was Kalla, and sought to resurrect the cult.
He had never used the term 'simple' to describe any of his people. But when they ate that up, even after years of knowing that it was Alexondra who had vanquished the cult and all other evil, he had begun to think of them as little more than sheep. She was their saviour, a living goddess, and on the word of a mortal they declared her traitor. Half the young village men took up pitchforks and rode with her army.
He turned from the castle and began to walk towards the roaring of the Turmac sea. Where the Iris bay was a turquise calm, the Turmac sea was always bitter cold, raging and dark slate blue. His boots soon found sand, and he wandered down the beach to sit in the sand.
It was time.
For so long, he had not allowed him to think of this. The sacrifice.
He looked up to his left. The turmac cliffs were visible as a bulk that blocked out the stars and deep blue night sky. It was there that they had been trapped, he and Alexondra, his love. Because of his deep revulsion of killing anyone they had fled like fugitives, aiming for the far plains or savage Wolf Mountains. Though Alexondra had protested, he had said, for her, he would leave the monarchy to Annette.
She had known what he had not - Annette would never stop. It was not power she craved, but the love of her husband. And that, she could never have. That had been Alexondra's since forever.
They had been herded like animals. Two supremely magical beings herded by man and horse and spear. Riding at the head, his Queen Annette had pushed them towards the cliff egde. She screamed at him to give up the Red Witch, and all would be well. Stag was trying to parley - any who had seen the red witch could not doubt that she was dead now, Alexondra her own self, but Annette was mad with rage. His army turned to her cause by her fervent will.
He remembered seeing the dragons, trying to get to him in time. The sudden surprise on Annette's face......And he turned to look.....
Only in time to see the love of his soul plunge off the edge of the Turmac cliffs. She had sacrificed herself to prove she was not Kalla. To give him back his throne.
A high keening rose out of his throat, and he buried his head in his hands and began to cry hot tears. Hadnt she known? He didnt want the damn throne. Never had. Had his ancestors over the past hundred years asked him? Had they thought of his will when they made their perfect ruler? Sometimes he was so angry, he railed at Om herself, who had wrought this mess, that if they had been made to love each other, why rent them apart?
Tears ran down his face as he remembered. His daughter, Andretta had arrived, merely pushing through the soldiers as if they werent there. He had seen Annette look at her in disgust. Andretta had wrapped him in loving arms. And with wings he had never known she had, Andretta had flown him down the cliff to see his Alexondra, her mother.
The dragons had arrived soon after, and steeled by the sight of his Hind's lifeless body, he had risen with Queen Areyamathea to reclaim his land. He was terrible that day, killing any who opposed him.
Annette and his children had been publicly executed. All but Lir, who had sent him secret messages and stayed loyal to him throughout the entire war.
He had assumed that Andretta would bring her mother's body back to the castle for a royal funeral. But they had not returned. He had sent out search parties, but both Andretta and his Hind had vanished without a trace. Even Areamathea's magical screens showed him nothing. She had come up with fancy reasons for that, but he hadnt cared.
Within enas he was done with governing. He made preparations for Lir to be king, and now, was done with it. He just wanted to fade, like his father had, like his mother had.......
He lay back on the sand and slept.
When Stag awoke it was light. A soft, grey light, not yet even dawn twilight. His lower body felt heavy, as if his legs were asleep. He sat up and looked down at the pressing, unnatural weight.
A small cry of disbelief escaped him. His eyes flung wide. He had never been more awake.
It was she! She lay on his lap as if she had materialized from the sea and curled up on his lap like a great cat.....Her broad shoulders lay across his thigh, her slender face in his lap. The red hair was wild and bright as ever, the magical emerald eyes closed in deep and restful sleep. Her long body stretched out beside him, dressed in that same savaged peasant's dress she'd worn for years.
He touched her cheek. "Alexondra...." And her eyes opened. She wriggled and laughed and smiled up at him.
"How?" It came out half cry, half sob. Her face softened, she threw her strong arms around him. "Oh my love," She whispered against him, "Oh my poor love..." She drew back, "I wanted to come to you, and tell you, but there was no time. Andretta woke me, and we have been far, and fought hard. If I could have sent word to you. ..."
He grasped her cheek, shook his head. "It doesnt matter. You're here. Really here. And Im never letting you go again." They kissed fiercely.
He pulled back smiling his old Stag smile. Ready for adventure. "Perhaps now, we shall see the savage plains then?"
She frowned. "Goldenstone needs you. You are her true leader"
"I have crowned my son. We are free"
She looked at the sand. "Those such as us are never free" It was almost bitter.
"Hind, my love, speak to me"
She smiled at the use of her old name. "There is no reason to fear my love. We will be together. Your son may rule as long as Om will let him, but it is you she wants on the throne. And I have come to be your Queen"
Despite himself, he grinned. So, She had come under attack, at least once. No matter that it had been her ruling king, and she had welcomed him....
He turned back, just a little, to view the bright lights of the castle. Every window was lit up. He could hear the singing and dancing, and the louder pounding which seemed to shake the castle walls. Dragons dancing. It was the biggest celebration Goldenstone had ever seen.
It was a kingmaking.
In the tradition of his ancestors, he had stepped down. All of his line were immortal, in a sense, and when they had handed their crown over to a new ruler, they had begun to fade. A few had not, and had remained about the continent, but for the most part, it was the way. He had undertaken his path not for tradition, but because he wanted to fade.
He had chosen his only remaining son, Lir. With his Queen Annette he had had many children, but each and every one - save Lir - had backed her in the civil war. How his sweet and loving wife had turned the entire kingdom against him for the sake of jealousy he was still trying to figure out. He would never forget the shocking moment of seeing his own troops moving against him, with Annette riding at their head in full battle armour. He could have ended it on the first day, as he commanded the peoples hearts and the dragons, but he had not wanted to kill anyone. That had changed so quickly, when Annette had publicly announced that Alexondra had returned for only one reason - that she was Kalla, and sought to resurrect the cult.
He had never used the term 'simple' to describe any of his people. But when they ate that up, even after years of knowing that it was Alexondra who had vanquished the cult and all other evil, he had begun to think of them as little more than sheep. She was their saviour, a living goddess, and on the word of a mortal they declared her traitor. Half the young village men took up pitchforks and rode with her army.
He turned from the castle and began to walk towards the roaring of the Turmac sea. Where the Iris bay was a turquise calm, the Turmac sea was always bitter cold, raging and dark slate blue. His boots soon found sand, and he wandered down the beach to sit in the sand.
It was time.
For so long, he had not allowed him to think of this. The sacrifice.
He looked up to his left. The turmac cliffs were visible as a bulk that blocked out the stars and deep blue night sky. It was there that they had been trapped, he and Alexondra, his love. Because of his deep revulsion of killing anyone they had fled like fugitives, aiming for the far plains or savage Wolf Mountains. Though Alexondra had protested, he had said, for her, he would leave the monarchy to Annette.
She had known what he had not - Annette would never stop. It was not power she craved, but the love of her husband. And that, she could never have. That had been Alexondra's since forever.
They had been herded like animals. Two supremely magical beings herded by man and horse and spear. Riding at the head, his Queen Annette had pushed them towards the cliff egde. She screamed at him to give up the Red Witch, and all would be well. Stag was trying to parley - any who had seen the red witch could not doubt that she was dead now, Alexondra her own self, but Annette was mad with rage. His army turned to her cause by her fervent will.
He remembered seeing the dragons, trying to get to him in time. The sudden surprise on Annette's face......And he turned to look.....
Only in time to see the love of his soul plunge off the edge of the Turmac cliffs. She had sacrificed herself to prove she was not Kalla. To give him back his throne.
A high keening rose out of his throat, and he buried his head in his hands and began to cry hot tears. Hadnt she known? He didnt want the damn throne. Never had. Had his ancestors over the past hundred years asked him? Had they thought of his will when they made their perfect ruler? Sometimes he was so angry, he railed at Om herself, who had wrought this mess, that if they had been made to love each other, why rent them apart?
Tears ran down his face as he remembered. His daughter, Andretta had arrived, merely pushing through the soldiers as if they werent there. He had seen Annette look at her in disgust. Andretta had wrapped him in loving arms. And with wings he had never known she had, Andretta had flown him down the cliff to see his Alexondra, her mother.
The dragons had arrived soon after, and steeled by the sight of his Hind's lifeless body, he had risen with Queen Areyamathea to reclaim his land. He was terrible that day, killing any who opposed him.
Annette and his children had been publicly executed. All but Lir, who had sent him secret messages and stayed loyal to him throughout the entire war.
He had assumed that Andretta would bring her mother's body back to the castle for a royal funeral. But they had not returned. He had sent out search parties, but both Andretta and his Hind had vanished without a trace. Even Areamathea's magical screens showed him nothing. She had come up with fancy reasons for that, but he hadnt cared.
Within enas he was done with governing. He made preparations for Lir to be king, and now, was done with it. He just wanted to fade, like his father had, like his mother had.......
He lay back on the sand and slept.
When Stag awoke it was light. A soft, grey light, not yet even dawn twilight. His lower body felt heavy, as if his legs were asleep. He sat up and looked down at the pressing, unnatural weight.
A small cry of disbelief escaped him. His eyes flung wide. He had never been more awake.
It was she! She lay on his lap as if she had materialized from the sea and curled up on his lap like a great cat.....Her broad shoulders lay across his thigh, her slender face in his lap. The red hair was wild and bright as ever, the magical emerald eyes closed in deep and restful sleep. Her long body stretched out beside him, dressed in that same savaged peasant's dress she'd worn for years.
He touched her cheek. "Alexondra...." And her eyes opened. She wriggled and laughed and smiled up at him.
"How?" It came out half cry, half sob. Her face softened, she threw her strong arms around him. "Oh my love," She whispered against him, "Oh my poor love..." She drew back, "I wanted to come to you, and tell you, but there was no time. Andretta woke me, and we have been far, and fought hard. If I could have sent word to you. ..."
He grasped her cheek, shook his head. "It doesnt matter. You're here. Really here. And Im never letting you go again." They kissed fiercely.
He pulled back smiling his old Stag smile. Ready for adventure. "Perhaps now, we shall see the savage plains then?"
She frowned. "Goldenstone needs you. You are her true leader"
"I have crowned my son. We are free"
She looked at the sand. "Those such as us are never free" It was almost bitter.
"Hind, my love, speak to me"
She smiled at the use of her old name. "There is no reason to fear my love. We will be together. Your son may rule as long as Om will let him, but it is you she wants on the throne. And I have come to be your Queen"
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