Michael Mathias - Kings, Queens, Heroes, and Fools

The room fell silent. Hyden hadn’t put much thought into that part of the quest. Brady and Captain Trant were both looking at him for an answer. All he could do was swallow hard. A peal of deep thunder filled the silence. The sudden crack of the door at the top of the stairs being whipped fully open by the wind startled them all. The sound of the rain and the ghoulish chorus of the wind whistling in the rigging came to them. Talon awkwardly leapt from his perch and glided through the air to land on the table between Hyden and Phen. The bird wasn’t at ease being inside the cramped cabin for so long. Knowing this, Phen ran his hand lovingly over the hawkling’s feathers and cooed softly.

The room filled with the savory smell of fish stew and hot bread as the cook and his helper eased carefully down the steps. Apparently their arms were full, for the door stayed wide open as they descended.

Hyden was glad for the intrusion because he was hungry, but more so because he had to think about Phen’s question. What would a wise old dragon do to guard its hoard? He should have asked the White Goddess when she shared her knowledge of the Skull of Zorellin. He really should have asked Claret. Captain Trant and Brady would both want an answer sooner or later, especially when they drew closer to Cobalt’s lair.

Later that evening they sailed out of the storm and into relatively calm waters. Behind them, the nasty wall of gray churning clouds and rain-streaked violence moved northward toward the rocky Valleyan coast. Even Oarly came up from below to see the sunset. He didn’t stay long, and barely spoke. When he did, he asked Master Biggs to fill the flask he’d taken from Brady. Once it was full, he eased back down to the cabin and found his bunk.

Phen made the rounds, quizzing every man on the Seawander, from the Captain to the cook’s assistant, and every hand in between about the tombs of Kahna. Only six men on the ship had ventured through them. To Phen, the tombs sounded like nothing more than a distraction for kingdom folk whose ship had to lay over on the island, but all the men he questioned agreed on one thing: that there was a great emerald down there somewhere in those depths, and you could find it, and death, if you dared to go looking for it. Phen, as it turned out, was planning on doing just that.

Hyden didn’t like it, but his objections got caught in his throat when Brady began helping Phen prepare. It was Brady’s reasoning that brought Hyden around. “We can feast and watch naked girls gyrate then go on a fool’s quest for a few days, or we can sit around in an inn, bored silly, and listen to Phen read about the same sort of things and pester us until we’re crazy.”

Hyden conceded that was the truth of things. So the next afternoon, when the call of “Land ahoy!” came, Hyden joined in the preparations for Phen’s little adventure. He decided that Phen should have probably been more involved in the planning of the greater quest that they were on. The boy did his job well. Phen questioned the seamen again, eliminated the tombs and tunnels that they’d seen already from his list, and planned his itinerary so meticulously that, by the time they had rowed to shore, Hyden found himself believing they might actually have a chance of finding the legendary jewel.

The solitary man who hadn’t bothered to bow to High King Mikahl turned out to be Prince Raspaar of Salaya. His father ruled the tiny, little-known, island kingdom that was stuck between the much larger island of Salazar and the southern tip of Westland. The Prince’s dislike for King Broderick was only surpassed by the love he had for his people, which was exactly why he was in Dreen to begin with. Over several morning sessions in King Broderick’s grazing pen turned private practice yard, the Prince and Mikahl discussed several subjects while they sparred. Mikahl had to go easy to keep the Prince from being discouraged, but he did so politely, and discreetly. Mikahl learned that Shaella, the Dragon Queen of Westland, had raised tariffs on all shipping trade, which, due to her destruction of the bridge in Locar, was the only type of foreign trading that Westlanders could do.

Prince Raspaar’s people were dependent on importing several staple items from Westland, such as wheat, corn, and firewood in the winter. In the past they had purchased those items with the only real valuable resource that Salaya had: jade. Now, since the bulk of the noble folk from Westland and Wildermont had been killed or sold to the Dakaneese slavers, the demand for jade had dropped to almost nothing. So many animals had been ridden out of Westland with the army before Queen Shaella had slithered in that Westland had a severe need of horses.

Prince Raspaar’s father, King Raphean, was prudently trying to get a foothold in the business of filling that need. He wanted Salaya to act as a middleman between the Valleyan horse lords and Westland. With horses to trade, the people of the little island could keep the flow of necessities they were dependent on steady. Of course, King Broderick had been all for it. He loved a profit. The craven king didn’t want the Dragon Queen for an enemy, and dealing with her directly might offend Highwander royalty, more precisely, Queen Willa and High King Mikahl. So a go-between was necessary. Now King Mikahl was seething mad at King Broderick’s insolence and trying his best not to be angry with the young Prince, who in all truth was just looking out for his own kingdom’s welfare at his father’s request.

“If it’s not my Salaya then it will be Telgan, Borina, or even Salaphen or Salazar that will assume the position of broker,” Prince Raspaar said after pressing a better than average attack of slashes. “It would be far better for you and the alliance of eastern kingdoms if it were us,” he continued. “My father and I will be doing the dealings, and I assure you that we feel no particular loyalty to Westland, not since King Balton was killed. When one of the eastern countries can fill our need in Westland’s stead, we would be glad to divert our business from the west entirely.”

Prince Raspaar was forced to stop speaking and had to use all his concentration and skill as a swordsman to defend against Mikahl’s next attack. Thankfully, the assault only lasted for a few minutes. It ended when Mikahl toppled the man and then hurled his own practice sword into a thicket. Mikahl huffed out a heavy sigh of frustration and started walking toward the bushes to get his weapon. His mind was churning with angry, but hopeful possibilities. The Prince was talking again and the words he was saying we’re like slow fertilizer to Mikahl’s ideas.

“Of course,” Prince Raspaar continued. “We cannot rely on goods from the east sent by ship at this time.”

Mikahl stopped, picked up the practice sword, then asked, “Why not?”

“Dakaneese pirates are as thick as carrion after battle.” Raspaar had the courtesy to wince at his bad choice of comparisons, but he continued anyway. “It’s well known that Queen Shaella is half Dakaneese and somewhat particular to King Ra’Gren and his kingdom.

They say that she despises his use of slaves for labor, but that didn’t stop her from selling the noble folk of Westland to him. The Dakaneese pirates seem to avoid any ships flying her lightning star banner. All other ships sail at their own peril. It’s nearly impossible to avoid the murderous scavengers along the coast between O’Dakahn and Southport. The Salazarkians have worked out an extended sea route to Seaward City, a credit to Queen Rachel’s cunning, I’m sure. They seem to be able to elude the pirates, but the cost effectiveness of a lesser island kingdom like ours using the Salazarkian ships is counter productive.”