Michael Mathias - Kings, Queens, Heroes, and Fools

“What is the meaning of this?” Ra’Gren snapped. His level of alarm dropped only slightly when he saw who was waiting for him in his throne room.

“King Jarrek has closed off of the Wildermont passage and over a third of your men are floating home in the river.” Flick found that he was enjoying himself more than he expected. Ra’Gren’s eyes were as big as eggs and the worm on his forehead looked like it might crawl away. “What’s more,” Flick continued. “…the Red Wolf has a legion of dwarves aiding him now. They are tunneling into Dakahn as we speak.”

“Dwarves? Underwater?” Ra’Gren looked at the trident in his hand then back at Flick as if he were judging the distance between them. “Are you mad? Tunnels?”

Flick couldn’t help but laugh. Ra’Gren roared out at the blatant show of disrespect, but somehow managed to keep a hold of his weapon. The sound of his frustration caused the men around him to step back and cringe. “You’re telling me that the Red Wolf is attacking my kingdom now?”

“If he’s smart, he will try to pin your troops against the giant lake that now sits where Seareach once was,” Flick said casually. “If he manages to pull it off, your men will have no escape.”

“This is preposterous,” Ra’Gren snapped. “Where is Shaella?”

“Queen Shaella. She is attending to her hell-born pets. She sent me to help you. At my own discretion, of course,” Flick added with a grin. “It seems your plans always go awry. I’m not one to dabble in failure.”

Ra’Gren started to bark out an angry response, but a sudden whooshing sound accompanied by a bright yellow swirling light filled the space between him and the wizard. Reflexively, Flick called forth several protective wards for himself and a powerful kinetic blast that he could unleash with a word.

Ra’Gren moved back from the strange apparition as well. Two of his six guards stepped up bravely between their king and the spiraling cloud.

The magical energy took the smoky form of a plump young lady, whose dire expression was as intense as it was grave. She never fully came into form, but through the cloudy shape the blonde sheen of her curly ringlets and the icy blue of her eyes could be made out quite clearly.

“King Ra’Gren,” she said with a slight bow and a nervous glance at something that those in the throne room couldn’t see. Her back was to Flick, but he knew exactly who she was. He had seen her reflection in Queen Shaella’s scrying bowl on occasion.

“What is it, witch?” Flick asked sharply. The idea that Shaella’s spy was giving information to Ra’Gren as well as his Queen angered him to no end. She whirled around and peered through the light of her spell as if he were hard to see. Flick could tell by the terrified look on her face that his anger was misplaced.

“Cole? Flick? Which one are you? I can’t see well enough to tell you apart,” she sobbed. “He’s killed her. Tell me it’s not true. Tell me our queen is not dead.”

“What is this?” Ra’Gren growled through his unease.

Flick held up a hand to still the angry king. He could tell that something was terribly wrong. “Who said she was killed?” Flick asked.

“The High King and his Princess,” Lady Mandary cried. “He said he beheaded Queen Shaella after killing you, and some priests. The bastard brought Princess Rosa to Dreen then went off after someone named Fin.”

Flick was staggered by the news and immediately began reaching out to Shaella for confirmation.

“Are you sure?” Ra’Gren asked.

Lady Mandary turned back to the King of Dakahn. “I saw the High King and the Princess with my own eyes,” she sniffled and gulped in a breath. “There’s a great army coming through Oktin; Seawardsmen, dwarves, and the Blacksword of Highwander, led by Queen Willa herself.” She looked away and her eyes grew wide. Her voice became a hurried whisper. “They’re coming for you.”

Another voice, that of an angry woman, was heard in the background, and then Lady Mandary’s apparition was gone. The cloud of yellow smoke slowly dissipated.

Ra’Gren started to say that it wasn’t just his plans that sometimes went sour, but the look of pure hatred and anger on the bald-headed wizard’s face stopped his voice in his throat. Instead of saying anything, he walked to his throne and sat down. He wasn’t sure what Flick was capable of, but he knew he needed to turn the wizard’s anger to his advantage. With Shaella dead, and his force at Seareach trapped, he would need every ally he could muster.

Lady Trella was in the middle of fetching more hot water from the kitchen pot for Princess Rosa’s bath when she heard the General’s wife speaking crazily. She stopped to listen, thinking that Lady Mandary might have hurt herself and possibly needed aid. As she went to open the door and ask if everything was all right, she heard the woman’s words. “… and some priests. The bastard brought Princess Rosa here to Dreen…” It was all Trella needed to hear. The woman’s disrespect of the High King, and the tone of her words, only confirmed what Lady Trella had suspected since catching the woman spying on the war council. She burst into the room, just in time to see General Spyra’s wife warning King Ra’Gren.

Before Lady Mandary could move to defend herself, Lady Trella punched her hard across the jaw. The woman crumpled to the floor. Trella wasted no time. She swept the scrying bowl off of the vanity into the floor. Then she tore a strip from the bed sheet and bound Lady Mandary’s hands behind her back and hurried off to find her husband.

She found him with General Spyra, both speaking hopefully over a map of Westland that was held open on the table by an empty bottle of wine and a trio of goblets. She was glad the bottle had been empty for a few days. She didn’t want to tell the General about his wife’s treachery at all, but since she had no choice, she would rather him hear the news sober.

“Sirs,” she said politely, interrupting their conversation. She didn’t give them the chance to ask what was wrong. “I’ve caught Lady Mandary,” she said. “I caught her in a treacherous act, and I’ve subdued her.”

General Spyra looked up and blinked in confusion. “What? Lady Mandary?” He looked to Lord Gregory for some sort of explanation, but the Lion Lord looked just as confused by his wife’s accusation.

Lady Trella explained in great detail what she’d heard and seen, both times that she’d caught the General’s wife acting suspicious. General Spyra looked stricken.

Half an hour later, Lady Trella was dismissed to tend Princess Rosa. Lady Mandary stood unbound before her husband and Lord Gregory. She swore that lady Trella was a jealous liar. The conniving marsh witch had her husband convinced that she was innocent and was urging him to challenge the Lion Lord to a duel to prove her honor. Lord Gregory declined the challenge, explaining to Lady Mandary that the High King would be back soon, and with the power of Ironspike, he would be able to see the truth of the matter.

Speaking to General Spyra, Lord Gregory said, “If your wife is still willing to deny Lady Trella’s claim before the King of the Realm, and the might of his blade, then I will place myself at your mercy, but I promise you, friend, my wife is no liar, and King Mikahl will know the truth.”

Lord Gregory felt for the General. The man was as honorable as they come, and so in love with the woman that he couldn’t see past his heart. Lord Gregory’s statement hit home with Lady Mandary, though. Already she was starting to make excuses to leave Dreen.

“I thought you were my husband,” she spat at General Spyra while glaring daggers at the Lion Lord. “If you’ve not enough rocks in your britches to defend my honor, then you’ll take me home to Xwarda now.”