Michael Mathias - Kings, Queens, Heroes, and Fools

Flick was a capable wizard. Once one of her father’s apprentices, he was loyal to Shaella’s cause and always eager to please her. The two breed giants he had chosen to accompany him on his mission, Drolz and Varch were both fierce fighters. The zard called Slake was a most competent captain. He had pirated several barges full of weapons and supplies that had been instrumental in Shaella’s taking of Westland. He was highly feared and regarded among his kind. The mixed crew of his sleek ship, Slither, were loyal and tested. As soon as Hyden Hawk found the skull, they would help Flick take it from him.

With those thoughts on her mind she rang a bell to summon her zardess attendant, Fslandra. A moment later the door to her chamber crept open and the young lizard-girl stepped in and bowed with a hiss.

“How may I serves yous?” she asked.

“Find Cole, and have him meet me by the turn of a glass in the old gathering hall, the one with the map table in it.” As she gave the order she rose to her feet, went to a closet and began searching for a particular garment. “And Fslandra,” she called out as the lizard-girl’s tail flitted out the door. “Have Lady Able fetch me up a hot bath immediately.”

“Yes Mastress,” came the fading reply.

It entertained Shaella deeply to watch the Lady Able carrying bucket after bucket of hot water up all those stairs. It thrilled her even more when she made the high born woman wash her naked body. It wasn’t the sexuality of it. It was the disgust and contempt that radiated off the woman as she lathered the rags with scented soap, and the way Lady Able had to clinch her bottom lip in her teeth to remind herself not to scrub too hard; the way her entire upper body glowed red with a mixture of embarrassment, anger and shame as she toweled Shaella dry.

Before Shaella took Westland, Lady Able had been waited on hand and foot in the luxury of her husband’s stronghold. She’d been the ruler of her roost, so to speak, and had never kept less than three personal attendants. In her day she had humiliated, overworked, and disrespected at least half a hundred young servant girls. She’d made the mistake of demanding that she be treated like a high born lady in front of Queen Shaella’s entire court.

“I will treat you exactly how you treated all those ladies that served you,” Shaella said. Then she added, “Now go fetch me a tray of fruit from the kitchens and be sure not to meet the master chef’s eyes.”

As a queen, Shaella was merciless, cleverly ruthless in her punishments, and more than a little dark in her deeds, but no one could say that she was unjust. She showed no favoritism to the zard-men, the breed giants, or the humans. High born, or low, covered in scales and hatched from an egg, or birthed from a mother’s womb meant nothing to her. A person was judged and rewarded or punished by their actions alone. The common folk had seemingly accepted her after she’d flown on her dragon’s back over Portsmouth and Crossington and driven the savage breed giants out of the streets and back into line. Little did those people know that she had sent the breed to terrorize them in the first place. When she began knocking the Westland nobles, who hadn’t escaped, off of their pedestals, some of the commoners began to really like her.

During King Glendar’s short and brutal stint as the king of Westland, he had rounded up nearly every able bodied man and boy and marched them off to their eventual deaths. Before he’d done that, he had decorated the bailey yards of Lakeside Castle with the piked heads of hundreds of men-Westland men. Suspected conspirators, men so loyal to his father that they tried to oppose his succession to the throne, even the common gossipers who whispered the wrong thing in the wrong ear, ended up with their heads displayed on pikes. The good people of Westland had been scared to death, and rightly so.

None of the people knew that Pael was Shaella’s father. Had they, they might not have been so accepting of her rule. The belief that it was Queen Willa’s Blacksword army, the Valleyans, and King Glendar’s evil that had taken away their husbands and sons was now prevalent. This played perfectly into Shaella’s hands because she had forbidden all trade with the Eastern Kingdoms, save for Dakahn. With all borders closed, the people were starting to feel safe again, especially since Queen Shaella was now publicly punishing the zard, and the breed, when they attacked any of the humans.

As she made her way to the map-room to meet Cole, Shaella passed a group of young merchant-men in an open corridor. They all bowed graciously to her.

“You’re looking radiant today, my queen,” one of them said as she moved past.

When the men were long behind them, Shaella spoke. “Fslandra, do you think I look radiant?”

The lizard-girl knew that Queen Shaella was mocking the young man, and she made a gurgling sound that passed for zardian laughter.

Cole was waiting for her in the map room with a silver goblet in his hand. Cole was Flick’s brother, and both of them emulated Pael just a little too much. Shaella’s father had been their mentor and teacher, and they both kept their heads free of hair and their skin as ghostly white as Pael had. Cole was the eldest. He was taller and thinner than Flick, but not by much on either count. From a distance they could easily pass as twins. They had been instrumental in the taking of Westland, and in her heart Shaella considered them as her dearest friends.

Cole started to bow to her but she waved it off. “We’re not in public, Cole. You know better.”

“Just showing my queen her proper respect,” he replied evenly.

“That’s enough, Cole.” She motioned for Fslandra to go. The lizard-girl shut the door behind her, leaving Shaella and Cole to themselves.

The room was paneled in deeply varnished oak. Along one wall there were wine-rack shelves holding hundreds of rolled maps. The opposite wall was glazed and a grand view of Lion Lake spread out before them. Expertly etched into the surface of the great oval table that filled the room was a map of the continent and its kingdoms. Shaella deftly plucked the goblet from Cole’s hand and sipped from it. She made a sour face then circled the map-table, studying it as she went.

“I hope I didn’t disturb your day,” she said, “but the idea that struck me was too marvelous to contain.”

“I’ve been dealing with reports about your Lord of Locar. It seems that Bzorch is bringing in Wildermont slaves to help build his watchtowers along the river.” Cole heaved a sigh of exasperation. “I’ve gone over seventeen different grievances concerning your pet breed giant’s conduct. Truthfully, I’m glad to be away from the mess.”

“Seventeen is too many to ignore. I’ll set out for Locar myself with a troop of zard on the morrow and settle the matter. I don’t want slaves in Westland. Bzorch can pay his laborers like everyone else.”

“You are the nicest evil sorceress queen I’ve ever met,” Cole jested. He was glad that the words Dragon Queen hadn’t slipped out of his mouth. Since she’d lost her dragon, Shaella hated the term. “Now what is this idea you can’t keep to yourself?”

“I’m driving myself crazy waiting on the High King to attack us. He has to try to get his father’s kingdom back or no one will really follow him. What good is a king who cannot hold his own kingdom? The problem is that every day he waits, he gathers more allies.” Shaella hopped up, sat on the map-table and tapped Seaward City. “I want to provoke him, force him to come at us, before he gains too much.”

“How do you want to do that?” Cole asked, his curiosity piqued.

“He’s going to marry Princess Rosa soon,” Shaella grinned. “I say we find out if High King Mikahl has enough honor to come rescue a damsel in distress. I’d like you to go to Seaward and invite Princess Rosa here for a visit.” She gave Cole a sinister wink and chuckled deviously. “Well, maybe invite wasn’t quite the word I was looking for.”