

### The Royal Consort

### By

### Mac Zazski

### Smashwords Edition

### ***

### Copyright 2013 Mac Zazski

***

Discover other titles by Mac Zazski at Smashwords.com

***

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it or it was purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

### Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

### Chapter 1

"Well, here we are," stated Ernest, shimmying into a deeper part of the cave as the roar above them echoed to silence.

"What are our options, sire?" Albert asked the king, his voice tight with fear.

"Our options are decidedly limited," began Alex, his next words destroyed by the ear splitting shriek of the monster above them.

"He cannot reach us here," Ernest offered, "and I would rather starve to death than become a meal."

"The one time he makes sense and it has to be now," Albert stated with an ironic nod of his head.

"While he sits on top of us, everyone else is safe," agreed the King, "but what about after we starve? Dragons are patient, but eventually he will tire of waiting and then he will be off to eat someone else."

"Frankly if the choice is between him eating me and him eating someone else, I am more than willing to let the other fellow win," began Ernest, interrupted by a shower of debris as the dragon tried to claw his way to them. The three wiggled down lower into the cave. "Besides, the prevailing thought in all of this is that the other fellow does not deserve to have a dragon make a meal of him. Now I know I do not deserve such a fate, but perhaps the other potential meal is not as virtuous as I am. Who are we to judge?"

A ball of flame hurtled down the tunnel towards them at astonishing speed. Alex was just able to fend it off by raising his shield to deflect it.

"Look!" Alex roared as the smoke cleared, "Above, over there, I see light!" The king pointed to a small hole seemingly only a few yards away further down the cave. "Ernest, find out if that is another opening."

Ernest scrambled down the rocky path into the darkness. A roar filled the chamber and dense smoke billowed in from above. Albert and the king gasped and choked violently until the heavy smoke began to dissipate. Another bolt of fire gave them a brief glimpse of Ernest quite a distance from them, nimbly picking his way over rocks toward the distant light.

"It's farther than it originally looked," snapped Alex impatiently.

"Distance is our friend at this point, sire," replied Albert sensibly. "I understand the need to protect the kingdom, but I am against being so close to dragons in order to accomplish it."

It seemed an eternity but Ernest finally returned breathing hard.

"It is an entrance as big as this one," he gasped.

"We can escape," Albert stated, hope rising in his voice.

"There is no cover," stated Ernest. "We might confuse him for a short while, but we would not get far down the mountain before he realized we were not here. When he takes to the sky, we would be done for."

"What would father have done?" asked Alex quietly.

"If he had any brains and we know he did, sire, he would have run away," yelped Albert as the mountain shook from the dragon's frustration.

Alex brightened, "Let us examine this logically, he would have said. Now what do we have to do?"

"Kill the dragon before he kills us!" shouted Ernest above a new roar.

"Good; and how can you kill a dragon?"

"Three ways, sire; an arrow through its heart, cut off its head or drown it," replied Albert.

"Which of these can we do?" asked Alex.

"I dropped my arrows outside during our brave retreat," stated Ernest, "so we cannot use them to put an arrow through its heart."

"We have no water, sire, so we cannot drown him," pointed out Albert.

"That leaves cutting off his head," stated Alex. "Unfortunately, you can only do that if you catch the dragon sleeping."

A ball of flame sliced down the passage way at them, sending them diving for cover.

"He does not seem inclined to nap," shouted out Ernest from the behind the protection of a boulder.

"Perhaps another strategy, sire..." Albert's hopeful voice touching Alex' heart.

"We have no arrows," mused the king, "but I have a sword. If I could use the sword as an arrow..."

"We have no bow," Ernest pointed out. "You cannot thrust a sword through a dragon's heart; their blood is of hell's fire. You might as well arrange for a nap in an active volcano, the blood will melt the sword and the hand that wields it."

"Perhaps I could throw it through his heart," replied Alex.

"You would have to be very close, sire," began Albert. "Their skin is like armor and ..."

Another belch of fire interrupted the conversation.

"If you and Ernest could just distract him a moment until I could get close enough..."

"Distract him?" snapped Ernest. "How does one distract a dragon?"

"If you went out the other entrance and called to him..."

"Called to him?" shrieked Ernest over another roar from above. "What should I say? "Hello, master dragon, have you eaten today?" I think we already know the answer!"

Alex dove over to the boulder Ernest hid behind. "Just get him to turn his head for an instant. It will take but a moment for me to step out of the cave and thrust the sword upward at his heart."

"In an instant I could become a cinder," crabbed Ernest. "You must think me mad."

Alex' expression softened, "Everyone thinks you mad, brother."

"Perhaps I am but I prefer live and happy madness to fiery and dead madness."

"You did not mind fire so much when you set the palace on fire..."

"The merest of accidents," replied Ernest. "By my calculations, the chandelier was heavier than I. When I loosened the chain, it should have pulled me up!"

"I do not mean to interfere, sire," called out Albert, fear tingeing his tone, "but could you convince him more quickly, the situation is decidedly uncomfortable."

"What about him?" Ernest asked Alex with a nudge. "He is one of your retainers. Retainers are supposed to die gladly for their king."

"I am a very new king and he is a very old retainer," countered Alex. "Besides, his knees are knocking so loudly that I doubt he would be able to sneak up on a deaf man."

With a frown, Ernest conceded the point. "Very well, what is your plan?"

"You and Albert will exit out of the opening you discovered. You will climb towards the summit while Albert descends the slope. In case our plan does not work, perhaps he will be able to alert the men below of our peril should either or both of us survive. I will give you a few moments to get behind the beast and then I will attack from this end. Once I have his attention focused on me, you will creep as closely as possible to him and then divert his attention. Once he is distracted, I will fling my sword into his breast and scamper back into the cave. If all goes well, we can meet here afterwards."

Ernest's chubby face shown with benign good cheer, "Suicidal and simple, well so much for old age..." Glancing quickly at the tumult and noise at the cave entrance, he called out to Albert, "This way, Albert, my brother has found a noble way to get us all killed."

Alex watched the two men scamper off into the darkness. His vision was momentarily obstructed by smoke caused by the after effect of yet another fire ball. All he could do as the air cleared was hope he had succeeded in thinking as his father had thought.

The poets and minstrels still sang nightly of Joseph the Great even three months after his sudden death. Alex missed him terribly, his feelings of inadequacy regarding the handling of his new position compounded daily as his father's brilliant legacy seemed only to grow. It was odd, but he found the present situation liberating, he had always considered himself a better warrior than an administrator and even a dragon could not make him feel as oppressed as his life at court did. The one person he could count on to lighten his mood, if not his burden, was his brother Ernest.

He and Ernest were twins, though two people who were less alike would be hard to imagine. Alex was tall and large possessing astounding physical strength. His neatly trimmed brown hair and beard and dark eyes and quiet demeanor left the impression that he was always thinking about something important. Ernest was shorter and chubby, with a clean shaven, well rounded face. His mischievous eyes were light and bright and he wore a constant smile. His black hair always stuck out at odd angles from his cap. He was engaging and happy and always chatty, while Alex always was more reserved, the listener to Ernest's talker.

Many had been surprised that Ernest had not been given some important government post upon Alex' elevation, but Ernest was, after all, Ernest. He was fine to command himself, but he had too much of the sprite in him to allow him the charge of others. Alex relied on Ernest more than most people knew, but he knew it was silly to trust him to take anything seriously. Ernest would never grow up, which was something that made both of them supremely happy.

A rain of debris broke off Alex' train of thought and as it lifted, he could see two distant figures part company in the small ray of light on the other side of the cave. He decided that in a few minutes more, he would attack.

Once again he felt the pain of having lost his father. Still, if things went badly, he might see him again very shortly. Picking up several fist sized rocks, Alex tucked them into the crook of his left arm, behind his battered shield. Drawing his sword, he placed that too into his left hand and peered at his adversary. The dragon roared and belched smoke and pulled its head back, preparing to launch another fire ball down upon him when he suddenly sprang forward and threw a rock at the miserable lizard's head.

The stone struck the beast solidly between the eyes, the sudden impact of the assault confusing and infuriating the massive creature. Hoping to produce just such a reaction, Alex gained the entrance and launched another stone missile, but his throw was off and it struck a glancing blow to the dragon's neck.

With a flick of its forelimb, the lizard sent the king flying backwards against the cave entrance. Alex struggled not to fall back into the cave and thus remove himself from striking distance. The force of the blow dislodged the remaining stones from his arm while the glancing blow to the neck seemed to infuriate the creature even more than the previous assault.

Alex barely had time to duck beneath his shield before he was engulfed by flame and smoke. An ear splitting roar almost forced him back into the cave, but as it subsided, he heard a distinctly different sound coming from above them. In a loud, overly happy voice, terribly off key but filled with passion, Ernest serenaded them both with a song of his own composition.

"I loved you Belinda, my flower, my Queen,

but away I must now run,

you took my heart, you took my mind,

and with my money gone, so is the fun!"

The dragon peered up at the insane minstrel with an anger that should have been reserved for Belinda's use alone. Forgetting about Alex, the creature reared back as if to launch an attack on Ernest, who promptly, and wisely, fled.

With might born of desperation, Alex aimed his sword and launched it with all his strength. Success would hinge on not only striking the correct spot but on the blade remaining intact long enough to pierce the heart. The dragon's blood would melt the metal swiftly, so the blade had to reach its destination almost instantly.

The screech of the beast drowned out thought and fear as the blade drove home. With the sudden strike the once fluid colossus gave way to jerky, sudden shifts of its head and upper body. Alex ran into the cave just as the gigantic lizard spewed its last ball of flame heavenward and collapsed in death, sealing the cave entrance. Moving rapidly, uncertain that he had succeeded, Alex reemerged on the mountain from the entrance through which Ernest and Albert had exited shortly before.

Squinting in the sunlight, he could just make out a distant figure moving rapidly down the incline near the mountain's base. Even at this distance, he had no doubt it was Albert. Looking back toward the crest, he did not see Ernest, so with a deep breath, he began his ascent. It was not until he had made his way towards the dragon's corpse that he found Ernest, seated on a rock just above the dead creature, lost in contemplation.

"You did a fine job, brother," he called out, eyeing the dead dragon.

"I am not pleased," Ernest announced, "not at all."

"You made it possible to kill the dragon," responded Alex with surprise. "You saved Albert and myself and countless others. Why would you be displeased?"

"All of that is very well," conceded Ernest, "but I'm very disappointed with my song."

"Your song?"

"Not all of it," he confessed, "the words were fine, even admirable, but the melody... I just do not think I captured the melody properly. It should have been happy, yet with a tinge of regret. Belinda was after all a fine maiden, even though she was mercenary."

Alex placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You think too much, Ernest. In truth the entire thing was ghastly. By the dragon's reaction, I thought it must have been a friend of Belinda's and understood the great injustice such a misery of noise and poor poetry did to his friend."

"Nonsense; I admit that the melody lacked a certain flair, but the words were honest..."

"Honesty in song is to miss the whole point. One sings to give harmony to lies," stated Alex reasonably.

The two continued to discuss the song as they picked their way together down the mountainside.

### Chapter 2

"I am sorry that the room is so cold, milady," stated the old woman. "Your brother..."

The Lady Marie waved the woman off with a slight motion of her hand. "I know my brother's economies, you need not explain them. Please leave me now."

The old crone peered at her, her dark eyes staring greedily at Marie. Thin, bent and unhappy, she had been a servant here since she had been a young woman and knew that Marie would never trust her.

Hesitating, she finally stated, "His majesty prefers that I be near you..."

The Lady looked about the tiny room and let out a harsh laugh, "For what reason? There is no one here so you are not needed to spy on me. Go."

The old woman bowed angrily and shuffled out of the room, the door closing with a harsh and grating sound. Marie leaned back on the hard wooden chair and tried to relax. It had been years since she had relaxed.

Her mind turned to her most constant thought, Robert is dead. She repeated the fact to herself often; it seemed as if it were a dream. Robert is dead. Her hand moved protectively towards her stomach as she thought yet again, Robert is dead. It had been four months now but she still could not get used to the idea. The father of her children lay in his grave; Robert is dead.

Why had her brother Jeftus sent for her? What new humiliation awaited her? As the king's sister...no, that did not matter. Jeftus had never been a brother to her, had never seen her as anything more than a credit or a debit to be used in the political games he played. She could not imagine what new depravity he had planned. He had been delighted when Robert had asked for her hand; Robert had been wealthy, one of the wealthiest barons in the kingdom.

She had never enjoyed any of Robert's riches, he had not been a generous man and with his own debt to worry about the king had seized all of her husband's lands for the crown, "Putting them in trust for Robert's children" is how Jeftus had explained it. Stealing her children's inheritance was a more accurate description.

Perhaps Jeftus had called upon her to admonish her for selling her jewelry and giving the money to the poor. The country had been at war for three years now and the people were starving. Robert had hated her assisting the people, had forbidden it, but she had always found a way. Had Jeftus found out? With Robert dead... what did it matter?

The little she knew about the military situation, the little information that she had been privy too had been most dire. Jeftus' fleet had been destroyed in their last engagement against the navy of Joseph the Great of Zambelia. The northern providences had been lost and the only thing that had stopped the enemy's advance had been the coming of winter. With the winter making the northern mountains impassible, Jeftus and his army were protected for now, but with the arrival of spring the passes through the mountains would be open again and Joseph's armies would swarm in and complete their victory. What was left of her brother's navy sat prepared to make a last stand in the two main harbors of the kingdom, but if the last battle had been any indication of their prowess, King Joseph would soon control the entire coast. Count Bartran of King Joseph's court had arrived shortly after she had heard of the naval disaster, no doubt to seek her brother's surrender.

Pulling her cape more tightly around her, she rose and slowly circled the room. The war had brought nothing but misery for her people, everyone had been affected. She thought of Robert, killed trying to defend the last open mountain pass from the invaders. He had been one of those who had convinced her brother that the time was ripe to seek new conquests. She thought of the proud, boastful men who swaggered through the court predicting victories, promising riches; where were they now? Those who had not died had fled or were in hiding, letting others die for their miscalculations. It was because of their greed that the people suffered, it was for their avarice that the country would soon be invaded.

The noise of the old crone opening the chamber door and shuffling in caused her to pause.

"The king desires your presence in the royal audience chamber."

Lady Marie rose, gliding past the woman and out into the cold, dark hall. Moving smoothly, she followed the hallway to the stairs and quickly descended them, crossing a courtyard strewn with leaves and twigs and entering upon another hallway on the far side. Midway through the hallway, she entered a dark chamber guarded by several sets of guards and then entered the audience chamber. The chamber glowed, reflecting the light of the torches that formed an arch down its center. At the end of the arch stood a dais, raised two steps from the floor and upon the highest step stood the throne of the king.

On the throne sat a thin, stooped man of fifty, with a dark straggling beard stained with gray. His hair was thin on top and of the same dark, wiry makeup as his beard. His hook nose rested above a cruel mouth and his dark, dead eyes rested below two prominent eyebrows. His thin hands protruded from a heavy velvet cape that covered his clothing to the waist. A long dark green gown peeked out from beneath the cape and descended to the floor, almost concealing a pair of well worn boots.

Standing in front of the throne was a handsome man, his thick brown hair highlighted with silver flowed to his shoulders and his beard to almost the middle of his chest. She would guess him to be in his late fifties, but despite his age his face was youthful and his light eyes sparkled brilliantly in the light. He wore a beautiful blue robe trimmed in white that descended in many folds to the floor. In his right hand he held a large, ornately carved wooden staff and in his left, a sealed scroll. He bowed deeply as the Lady Marie approached. She favored him with the slightest of smiles and then placed herself directly in front of her brother the king.

With a curtsey, she spoke to her brother, "Your majesty wishes to see me..."

Jeftus glowered at her a moment before responding, "I ordered you to appear in my court to discuss a matter of national importance."

Lady Marie remained in her curtsey, but raised her eyes to look at her brother. "You wish to discuss a matter of national importance with me, sire?"

He waved at her angrily, motioning her to rise and then gestured towards the elegant man next to her.

"You tell her Bartran..."

The count smiled cordially, stepping forward to face Marie.

"My lady, I am Count Bartran, a minister from the court of his majesty, King Joseph of Zambelia..."

"I assure you that you are well known here sir," she interrupted politely. "Your arrival has been the subject of much hope and gossip."

"Don't interrupt," snapped Jeftus. "Get on with it Bartran, I don't have all day..."

"Your forgiveness, your majesty," smiled Bartran. Turning to Marie, he gave another slight bow before continuing. "Lady Marie, I have been sent to your country to seek a means of ending the hostility that exists between our two kingdoms. Through perseverance and a common desire for peace, his majesty and I have been able to create an agreement that will benefit our two nations."

Marie's face broke into a radiant smile, "You mean that the war is over?"

"It will be," drawled the Count, "upon your consent."

Lady Marie stepped back and glanced at her brother before returning her gaze to the Count.

"My consent, sir?"

"He insists upon your consent, God knows why," grumbled Jeftus. "The women apparently rule in Zambelia."

"My Lady," stated the Count, ignoring the king's comment, "as part of our agreement, it was decided that a marriage between the royal houses of Zambelia and Vesek would increase the likelihood of a permanent peace."

Lady Marie's eyes went wide with shock, "My daughter is but a child, sir, certainly..."

"Oh no," replied the Count hastily, "oh no, milady, not your daughter...you."

"Me?" snapped Marie. She turned on her brother with a hateful gaze, "I have been a widow less than four months, milord, I have not even observed the prescribed mourning period..."

"Be silent," shrilled Jeftus. "You are here to serve, mourning period be damned. They want you..."

"But my children," whispered Marie. "Surely you would not..."

"Milady," interrupted Bartran, "we are asking that you wed his majesty, King Joseph and that your children attend you of course. We would not dream of separating you..."

Marie stalked closer to the platform, her anger growing, "And you consented to this? You would send your niece and nephew as a sacrifice to the country that has defeated you rather than..."

"Unlike the Zambelians, I have no need of your consent," replied Jeftus viciously. "Take your wretched spawn and go. You are the one who always whines about the people; well you can end this war to their satisfaction with your consent."

Marie turned back to Bartran, "What are the terms, milord?"

Bartran smiled persuasively, "The reestablishment of trade and the opening of borders. His majesty, your brother, will forfeit all claim to any property already lost and suffers the loss of the mountain passes but we guarantee that as family there will be no war between the two nations in perpetuity. And of course, the immediate cessation of all hostilities..."

"And the reduction of my fleet and my armies," grumbled Jeftus, "let us not forget that!"

"You will recall that we did not start the conflict, your majesty," stated Bartran stiffly.

"And my children will come with me into exile?" asked Lady Marie.

"It is not exile, milady," replied Bartran. "You may visit your homeland whenever you wish, I am certain his majesty will grant you permission at anytime..."

Marie eyed Bartran, "Tell me, Count, what would be my status and that of my children?"

Bartran looked down at the floor, "You will be the king's Royal Consort, milady and your children will enjoy his protection and generosity and be addressed as Lord and Lady. You will be addressed as Your Highness..."

"My children," she interrupted, "will his majesty adopt them as his own?"

The count offered her a small smile, "I cannot speak to that, milady. His majesty has two sons; his eldest is his heir... I cannot say, milady what your children's status would be, but I assure you that his highness will treat them and you with the utmost respect and kindness."

"And I would be his "consort", not his wife?" asked Marie, her face flush with the humiliation.

"No, milady, you would be his wife of course," assured Bartran gently. "You would be first lady of the kingdom, but you would not hold the title of Queen. As I said, you will be addressed always as "Your Highness" and the children would be "Lord Jonathan" and "Lady Annalisse"."

Marie stared down at the floor. Her own situation worried her not at all, she had no desire to be a Queen, but she worried about her children's futures. King Joseph had the reputation of being kind and just and logically her situation could be no worse than it was now. Most importantly she would have the children with her, they would be together again.

"I accept the terms," stated Lady Marie briskly. "What must be done?"

"I will return to notify his majesty of your decision," beamed Bartran, "I am sure he will be most pleased. A patrol boat awaits me in the harbor; there is too much ice to land a larger craft at this time of year. We will rendezvous with one of his majesty's warships at sea and bring the glad tidings back to his highness. The journey to Aleone takes two weeks by sea and then I must travel several days to Wharton. I would hope that with the spring thaw, your ladyship will be able to make the voyage and appear in Aleone in some seven weeks."

"My children will accompany me," said Marie, seeking clarification.

"It is part of the agreement," Bartran assured her, tapping the scroll he held for emphasis. "Might I ask who else might be accompanying your sister, sire?"

"I have not decided," snapped Jeftus. "When my sister arrives, she will notify you of the number, the prior knowledge of the number of the household is not part of the agreement."

"I merely asked that I might make suitable arrangements," replied Bartran. "I am sure that we will be able to accommodate any size group, your ladyship."

"And if the agreement is not fulfilled?" she asked in a whisper.

Bartran looked diplomatically at the floor. "If the agreement is not fulfilled, then we will have no choice but to continue the conflict until it reaches its natural conclusion."

"I will be in Aleone in seven weeks," she replied softly.

Bartran bowed to both the king and his sister and withdrew.

With the Count gone, Marie glared at her brother, "So you enslave your own flesh and blood to your enemy to save your own sorry hide..."

"Silence," snapped the King. "You will do what you have been promised to do."

"But will you fulfill your promises?" she asked angrily. "I will do nothing until my children are safely..."

"An escort is already bringing them here. Prepare your things for your departure and darken my sight no more."

The Lady Marie stood proudly before him before curtseying and gliding out of the room. Turning from the darkened outer room, she found herself running towards the ancient chapel at the end of the hall. The chapel was dark and gloomy, with but a single candle lit and placed before a statue at the right side of the altar. Entering the room, she moved instinctively to the corner and dropped to her knees before an ancient statue of a woman, a young teenage girl with a kind face and kind eyes who looked upon her expectantly. Staring up at her patron she prayed quietly, "Please help me to endure and please protect my children."

She thought of the little she knew about King Joseph. Her brother's hatred of him was intense, which only served to elevate him in her own estimation. He was known to be a brave and skillful warrior, but then again, Robert had been that much. He was older than her by at least ten years if not more.

She tried to think of his sons, she knew he had two sons, how did would feel about their father remarrying? She shook her head; she could have never foreseen being enslaved to her brother's conqueror as part of a peace treaty. She fought the tears she felt coming, what did she care for politics or peace? Taking a deep breath she regained control of herself, remembering the starving people, remembering her children. If she must sacrifice herself, was there any better way than to do so for their benefit? She looked up at the statue again and pleaded, "Give me strength..."

### Chapter 3

The procession of heroes wound its way through the wide boulevards of the city, the noise of the jubilant crowd echoing off freshly white washed homes and down cobblestone streets. An immense fortified city, Wharton was the capitol of Zambelia; it's well cared for streets and bustling markets creating a wonderful oasis for the center of government. It took almost two hours for the procession to make its way from the outer gate to the main market square that stood just outside of the palace walls. Albert and Ernest rode next to the king aboard freshly groomed mounts. Alex rode, as he always did, his battered old plow horse, Samuel.

"Why do you insist on riding that poor animal?" questioned Ernest loudly over the roar of the spectators.

"He is the finest horse in the kingdom..." began Alex.

"He is old, ugly and blind," interrupted Ernest. "I hope when I am in like condition you will allow me a pasture to graze in and leave me alone!"

"This old, ugly, blind horse has saved my life almost as often as you have," replied Alex. He patted the horse on its neck affectionately; he had need of all of his best and closest friends now. With his father gone, he often felt the burden of his new responsibilities.

A blare of trumpets from the castle ramparts announced their arrival in the square and brought Alex out of his revelries. A fresh roar arose as they dismounted before the palace gates. After several speeches of welcome, it was the King's turn to speak. Thanking his brother and Albert, he ended by declaring three days of feasting for the entire kingdom. As the crowd roared its approval, a line of horsemen streamed out of the palace gates, their armor shining in the morning sunlight holding lances tipped with the king's banner, ready on the king's command to bring his declaration to every corner of the kingdom. With a nod from Alex, the horsemen carefully dispersed through the crowds and out of the city for all parts of the king's domain.

Waving and bowing to the crowd, the King made his way into the palace, passing the grand court yard and moving directly into the reception hall, a massive, ornate entrance way into the central structure of the palace proper. Here courtiers expressed their gratitude to the King who continued to extol the virtues of his companions to all those present. Taking seats around the hall, the guests were treated to entertainment while the King slipped out a side door and retired to a second floor room, his study.

Alex' study was a large stone room, its walls covered in bright tapestries. Large doors inlaid with glass panels filled the room with light and led out onto a stone balcony that over looked the courtyard. On the far wall was a large fireplace and opposite it a large, heavy wooden desk covered in papers and correspondence.

After a few moments, a knock on the door announced the arrival of the King's Council. Alex gave a sigh, the council members were loyal patriots and supporters, but they were also wealthy and ambitious men, each pressing for his own way. Each felt the need to "council" Alex on how to be king, a sometimes unpleasant experience. Alex broke into a smile as he saw Albert enter the room with Ernest. Albert had always been like a second father to him and along with Ernest was his most trusted advisor. Rising, he greeted the men who entered the room and then took a moment to gaze out the window at the crowd below. Turning to those assembled, Alex nodded.

"The affairs of state wait for no man or dragon it seems," intoned the King, taking a proffered scroll from Albert.

"Your armies remain at the passes, milord," stated Albert, looking over a dispatch, "awaiting the spring thaw. In a few weeks time, we can cross the frontier in force and settle scores with old Jeftus."

Alex grimaced. Though a brave warrior, he had no love of war.

"Have we heard anything of Count Bartran or his mission?"

Duke Isling shook his head, his heavy features looking grim, his deep voice reverberating off of the stone walls.

"Nothing here, sire. The winter has been most bitter in Vesek, ships cannot enter the harbors for the ice and there is no overland route that is open."

"Still, as my Stasha says, "No news is good news," and I tend to agree with her," added Albert. "Jeftus has two alternatives, accept terms or face destruction."

"Less mad men have made worse decisions for themselves and their people," stated Alex. "I wish I knew what father had instructed the Count to attempt. He said the mission should solve the question once and for all, but would be no more specific. Still, I don't doubt that his was the best idea."

"We must also not forget the dragon, milord," stated the Duke of Arnak.

Alex looked at Albert in surprise and then at the Duke, "We slew the dragon, my dear Duke, what else would you have us do with it? I ordered the men to bury it; you can't eat them you know!"

"We know it is dead, sire," replied Albert, "but where did it come from? We've never had dragon problems before, why all of a sudden did it appear?"

Alex considered it, "You believe it was summoned?"

"They usually hibernate during the winter, milord and as I said, we've never had a problem before. Our representatives at Dragon's Lair say that they had never seen that dragon before."

Alex sat heavily, "What are you saying?"

"The dragon might have been summoned by other means," stated Albert.

"Wizards can summon dragons and make them do their bidding if they are powerful enough," agreed Arnak. "I think we all agree that this was most likely not a coincidence..."

Alex shrugged, "Anything is possible. I do not trust Jeftus any more than all of you do, but I find it hard to think of any wizard who would join forces with him. Still, you bring up a good point. We need to make inquiries, Albert."

Albert smiled in agreement as he handed the King another scroll, "A petition, milord, for a judgment..."

***

"Will we make it?" yelled Bartran over the roar of the storm. The small craft had almost been swamped twice since it had threaded its way through the ice packed harbor.

"We are doing our best, sir," replied the captain, a thickset, dark haired man with a determined expression on his face. "I can see the Vespa just over the mountain of water to our left, but we can't make directly for her, we'll be swamped for sure."

The Count grasped the railing tightly as the bitter wind blew hard upon them, angrily cutting through their clothing and causing them to shudder. The crew bravely manned the lines, manipulating the ropes and gear, fighting violently to keep the craft from floundering in an evil sea.

"Ahoy, Captain," yelled a seaman on deck, pointing behind and to the right of the Count.

Both the Captain and Count turned to see the Vespa majestically slide down the mountain of water and take up a position behind them. The crew fought valiantly to slow their forward motion so that they might seek refuge by the Vespa's side. The enormous warship was soon upon them, gliding up to their port side. Frantic hands worked to lash the two ships together and finally a large net was lowered over the side of the larger ship and the Captain and the Count mounted it. Half climbing, have dragged aboard by the crew, they crested the top of the ship rail and were hustled below decks into a warm cabin.

As the two men stood toweling themselves dry, the cabin door opened and the ship's commander, Captain Brian entered. A small thin man with boundless energy, he shook their hands warmly and bade them sit down. His dark eyes assessed his new visitors quickly.

"Filthy weather," he stated. "The winter is no time to be in these waters. I take it that your journey was less than satisfactory."

"We were almost swamped twice," reported the launch's captain, rubbing the towel through his still moist hair. "If the Count's business had not been so urgent, I would have turned back."

"Well I suggest we best be going," stated Captain Brian. "There is a storm chasing us and if we do not leave now it will catch us. I don't doubt my ship, but it is no match for a storm in these waters."

"Then I had best be going," stated the launch captain. "I wish you both Godspeed."

The Count thanked the man profusely and handed him a bag filled with coins which he quickly pocketed. After the two captains had exited, the Count finished drying himself. A knock at the door brought forth his bags, which he opened and examined. The treaty was still safe and dry. He was changing into some dry clothes when a knock interrupted him.

"Yes?"

A voice outside the door called to him, "Sir, Captain Brian would be honored if your lordship would dine with him this evening."

"Please thank the Captain and give him my regards. At what time am I expected?"

"In an hour's time, sir," replied the voice. "Also, the Captain asks if you might need anything in the mean time, sir."

"No, I am fine. Please send someone for me when the Captain desires me to come, I fear I might fall asleep."

"Yes, sir; very good, sir," replied the voice.

An hour later a knock caught the Count drowsing on his bed. Rising, he worked to steady himself as the ship pitched from side to side. Struggling out into the hallway, a steward brought him through a long, narrow passage to the rear of the ship to the captain's quarters. A good sized room appeared behind the solid door that the steward had opened and the Count staggered to a chair. The ship's motion continued unsteady and unpredictable for some time before the Captain appeared and seated himself opposite the Count.

"I apologize, Count Bartran," smiled the Captain. "The voyage has been rough on both the crew and the ship; still, we're making better time than we had any right to expect. We have to remain before this storm. As bad as these seas are, if the storm catches us we'll pay with our lives."

Another steward entered with a tray of metal goblets and a bottle of wine. With difficulty he poured the wine and handed the goblets to the Count and to the Captain. The Captain raised his goblet solemnly, "To the memory of his majesty, King Joseph and to our new king, Alex."

The Count stared at the Captain as if he had lost his mind. "What did you say?"

"I said, to the memory of his majesty, King Joseph..."

"Memory?" snapped Bartran. "What do you mean, "memory"? If this is a joke, Captain, it is in very poor taste!"

"Joke?" snapped the Captain. "The loss of the king, sir, is never a joke."

The Count reached across the table and gripped his arm, "The king is dead?"

The Captain looked at him as if just comprehending his existence, "Of course. I beg your pardon, sir, I meant no disrespect. I had forgotten where you were, you were blockaded of course. Forgive me, sir, you knew him well, did you not? Yes, sir, yes, his majesty, King Joseph has died. King Alex sits on his father's throne now, God bless him. Do not weep, sir, you've done our king a great service. You've brought him peace..."

"We must go back," snapped the Count, staggering to his feet. "Turn the ship around, do you hear? Turn the ship around at once!"

The Captain rose majestically, "I am sorry, sir, but that is impossible. We cannot chance a turn into this storm. It's the devil of a storm, we would never make it to port, sir and if we did, we could not enter the port, it is still frozen. Now calm yourself, sir..."

"Calm myself?" raged Bartan. "I will never know calm again until you return me to the court of King Jeftus."

"It can't be done, sir," replied the Captain. "I don't understand. Why would you wish to return to old Jeftus? You bring our new lord peace, sir, why would you wish to delay for even a moment?"

"I bring our new lord ruin," stated the Count, sinking back into his chair. "I bring him catastrophe. We must turn back."

The Captain shook his head solemnly, "It can't be done, sir. I've fought for our land for over twenty years, man and boy and I've never run from a fight yet, but you can't fight nature herself. Every sane man must run from her fury or be ruined. No, sir, it isn't possible."

"This treaty is the ruin of King Alex," mourned Bartran, "and I am to blame. What have I done?"

Captain Brian placed a hand on his arm, "What is it, Count Bartran? I don't understand, you said in your dispatch that this was a glorious treaty, a final peace..."

"For King Joseph, yes," interrupted Bartran, "for King Joseph! For King Alex it is a disaster."

The Captain shook his head, "I do not understand diplomacy, sir, I apologize for my ignorance. I am unable to understand how a treaty that is good for one of our kings is bad for his successor, but I cannot doubt your anguish. I wish I could relieve it, sir, but we cannot turn back. It cannot be done."

Bartran slumped, defeated in his chair, "If you cannot take me back, then get me to the king as quickly as possible. Perhaps there is hope, perhaps another can find a flaw in the document, I can think of none, myself. What have I done?"

The Captain was shocked to see the older man bury his face in his hands and begin to weep bitterly.

### Chapter 4

The courtyard was large and filled with people seated quietly on benches. Four large trees provided shade and a sweet, rustling sound when the gentle breeze wound through and about the crowd. At the far side of the yard, Alex sat on a raised dais on the seat of judgment, a large, ornately carved wooden chair. Next to him sat Duke Lanker, lord of the surrounding shire and a member of the King's Council and on his opposite side lounged Ernest, leg carelessly thrown over the arm of his chair, quietly eating an apple.

Alex stared at the older man making his way to one of the chairs that had been set up before him. He seemed a good deal older than anyone Alex had ever seen, his snow white hair barely covering his head, his beard long and scraggily, his body bent and thick. He held an enormously thick stick, as if he had decided to carry with him a log instead of a cane in case he had need of a fire. Sinking slowly into the chair, the old man glared at Alex with dark eyes.

"You have a complaint?" asked Alex politely.

"I have been robbed," grumbled the old man proudly. "Robbed!"

"I am sorry," replied Alex. "Did you report the theft to the local magistrate?"

"Yes," replied the old man, "and he caught the culprit. Killed him, he did, caught him and killed him and made a collar out of him."

Alex looked at the Duke who shrugged innocently, "I have no idea what this man means, sire..."

"The magistrate killed the man who robbed you and made a collar out of him?" asked Alex.

"Twas no man," spat the old man. "What man would be made into a collar? Twas a fox!"

"A fox robbed you?" asked Ernest, suddenly interested. "Did he carry a knife or did he do the deed while threatening you with arrows."

"Don't be a fool, man! He never threatened me," snapped the old man. "Foxes don't threaten people unless they're cornered."

"What did the fox steal from you?" asked Alex.

"A chicken," replied the old man. "A prize chicken, she was, she laid more eggs than any other in the shire."

Alex considered it, "It seems justice has been done. The fox killed your chicken and the magistrate killed the fox. What more is there to be done?"

"You must replace the chicken," said the old man reasonably. "She was stolen on your watch, you should be held accountable!"

The Duke moved to speak but Ernest was faster. "He has a point, you know, the chicken was stolen on your watch. It is in the coronation oath, "Defender of the frontiers, guardian of the borders, defender of the chickens..." it's all in there. Now I don't remember you actually saying it but then I was distracted by several lovely ladies in the gallery during the ceremony, still I do believe he has a case in law."

The old man rose, pointing to Ernest, "He isn't bright, but he is an honest fellow. You're the king and you are supposed to defend us..."

"There is nothing in the oath regarding chickens," stammered the Duke. "His Majesty cannot guard every chicken in the kingdom..."

"He defends women, does he not?" replied the old man. "He killed a dragon, did he not? What do dragons eat? Women. What do foxes eat? Chickens. It seems to me that if he can defend a woman from a dragon, he should be able to defend a chicken from a fox. If not, he should be held accountable. A small creature should be protected as zealously as a large creature or what is to become of us? Are grown men to be protected and infants left unguarded?"

"I could not agree more," interrupted Ernest. "Defend the chickens and leave the women to their own devices I say. Now a chicken cannot defend itself, but a woman, well, I've known a few who could kill a dragon with a lash of their tongue. Now that I think of it, you should be defending the chickens from the foxes and the dragons from the women..." Turning to the old man, he smiled, "I apologize to you, sir, he is a new king and does not seem to have his bearings yet. He rides off to kill a beast whose prey could easily kill it while leaving defenseless chickens to their own devices."

"Lord Ernest, you are not helping..." began the Duke.

'What ever made you think I was here to help?" asked Ernest. Turning to Alex, he continued with an instructive air, "Your majesty's court is ignorant of the role that I play in your administration. My job is to help his majesty as the fox helped the chicken."

"And you are doing your usual fine job," stated Alex. "Very well, since you are helping to present this fellow's case, I charge you with procuring a replacement chicken for him, but let me be absolutely clear on this, I am not going to replace anyone else's chickens. This fellow deserves some consideration due to his age and this fellow," he said, pointing to Ernest, "deserves no consideration at all."

"Come my good man," stated Ernest, rising from his chair and helping the older man to his feet. "We will find a suitable replacement. I suggest we begin our search at the nearest pub."

"There are no chickens at yonder pub that could replace the one I've lost," stated the old man.

"Then we'll have to look at a few other pubs," replied Ernest. "This reminding the king of his duties is thirsty work, don't you think? I believe that we shall have to have at least two drinks, one to quench our thirsts and one to celebrate our legal triumph before we even begin to look for our chicken."

"You're a strange man," replied the old man as he waddled alongside Ernest, "but on occasion you make sense. Let us go and celebrate."

Alex watched his brother totter off with the old fellow and shook his head. Turning to the Duke he asked, "Well, are there any other pressing issues that require my attention?"

"No, milord," stammered the Duke, trying to understand what had just taken place. "I did wish to speak with your majesty regarding the increasing of troops along the pass. The winter storms are showing signs of retreat and we wish to be ready to continue our offensive against old Jeftus."

Alex nodded, "Reinforcements will be arriving next week. I plan on a swift campaign come the spring, I want this conflict ended once and for all. I had hoped that our dear friend Bartran would have been able to negotiate a settlement by now, but it does not appear so. It will have to be settled by a campaign of steel, I suppose. I dislike the idea, Lanker, his people suffer so already..." Alex let the sentence trail off as he thought of the misery the war had inflicted on their neighbor. Why would Jeftus cling to such a position? How could he be so calloused regarding the welfare of his people? Alex followed the Duke from the courtyard and into a garden area surrounded by a high wall.

"Lord, should I send men to fetch your brother?" asked the Duke.

"No," smiled Alex, "he'll return of his own accord..."

"Your captains await, sire," replied the Duke, leading Alex through the garden towards an entrance of his house, "we can discuss your orders for the coming campaign."

Alex followed him still wondering, what could Jeftus be thinking?

***

The Lady Marie sat on her bed and held her son Jonathan for a long time. He was a boy of twelve, thin with fine, dark hair and bright, dark eyes. He held her tightly in his thin arms and tried very hard not to weep, though tears rose in his eyes.

"Oh, my son," she said softly, over and over. "Oh, my son..."

Finally, she leaned back and looked into his pale face. She gently rumpled his hair.

"Forgive me for squeezing you so tightly, my dear, it is just that I have missed you so much, Jonathan, so very much."

"And I have missed you too, mother," he replied desperately trying to sound strong. "I have thought of you and Annalisse every day. I wanted to write, but they would not allow it..." He struggled to maintain his composure as his mother held him tightly again.

"You are thin, mother. Have they not given you anything to eat?"

"I am fine, Jonathan, we are all a little thinner since the war began," she replied ruefully. "Annalisse cannot wait to see you, Jonathan, she has missed you terribly, but I wanted you all to myself for at least a short time."

"I want to see her," he replied, "but I am glad that you wanted to see me first."

She smiled at him and saw the concern on his face.

"You have been told that we are to be sent to Zambelia, Jonathan." She saw his confusion and quickly stroked his face, "Your uncle has arranged a peace with Zambelia, the war is over."

Jonathan held her tightly, unable to keep his voice from breaking, "Is this good-bye then?"

"No, darling, no," replied Marie, kissing his hair. "We are all going to Zambelia, you, Annalisse and I; I am to marry their king, King Joseph."

Jonathan pulled back and looked at her, "You will be Queen, mother?"

"No, darling," she said, desperately trying to sound optimistic. "I will be the king's consort and you and Annalisse and I will live there and there will be peace. I do not wish to be a Queen, Jonathan; I only wish to be your mother and Annalisse's mother and hopefully, a good wife to the king."

"He has sons, does he not?" asked Jonathan. "Father said that King Joseph had two sons, Alex and Ernest. He said they were fearsome warriors; that their father sent them to kill..."

"Jonathan," she said gently, stroking his hair. "Jonathan, your father said many things. I have heard that King Joseph is a good man and that his sons fight for his country even as your father fought for ours. They will be your stepbrothers, Jonathan; you have nothing to fear from them."

Jonathan looked doubtful, "But with father gone, it is my duty to protect you and Annalisse. How will I be able to protect you from them?"

She pulled him close and kissed his hair, trying hard not to let him see the tears in her eyes, "It is not your job to protect me, Jonathan. You do not have to protect anyone. The fighting is over, darling, there will be peace." She held him for a long time. Finally she pulled herself from him and smiled. "Your sister will be angry with me for keeping you all to myself for so long. Come now, we mustn't keep her waiting any longer."

Grabbing his hand she led him swiftly down the corridor to a dark bedroom. Throwing open the door, they peered in and saw a plump girl of eight with long, golden curly hair sitting impatiently on the bed. Looking up, she smiled a dimpled smile and flew immediately towards Jonathan.

"Jonathan, Jonathan, it is you!"

She nearly knocked him over as she embraced him, the two of them falling back into their mother's arms.

Marie held them both fiercely as they hugged each other and repeated softly, "The fighting is over, there will be peace."

### Chapter 5

Jeftus entered the dark chamber high in the castle tower with great uneasiness. The smell of sulfur and mildew filled the air as he waited for his eyes to accommodate themselves to the dim luminance that his single candle provided. A few feet in front of him, a dark mist began to form, the smell of sulfur becoming almost overpowering as the mist swirled slowly into a column before him. Slowly, the mist seemed to evaporate, leaving a figure draped in darkness.

Jeftus removed a scroll from the sleeve of his cloak and pointed it at the figure.

"Dead?" he asked. "Are you sure?"

The small, crippled figure in the black cloak peered up at him, hateful eyes glowing brightly in the dim light of this chamber.

"Dead, King Joseph is dead. I have foreseen it."

"And his son, Alex?"

The dark cloak swept the ground, "Alive. My trap for him was less successful, the dragon died at his hands; his hands and those of his accursed brother."

Jeftus considered it.

"Joseph is dead," he mused, "and Alex must marry my sister..." a sinister smile growing on his face.

"She is unable to bear more children," chuckled the dark, twisted figure. "If he honors the marriage, your line will sit on you enemy's throne and if he does not, all of the other kingdoms will unite against him for offending the woman's honor."

"I should keep the children here..." mused Jeftus.

"No," croaked the harsh voice. "No, sire... No that would be a mistake; that would tip your hand. There is more to be done, but we must not let them suspect what we can foresee the future..."

Jeftus looked at the black cloak; even loosely hanging it could not entirely conceal the twisted form beneath it. The head was tipped to the side and rested on the right shoulder, the unkempt hair creating an aura about the dark, parchment like skin that clung tightly to the misshapen skull. He fought back his revulsion and forced his mind to think.

"What must I do?"

The black cloak swept the floor as the dark figure paced back and forth before him, its heavy walking stick pounding the ground at irregular intervals.

"Send her there with her children, but nothing else. No servants, no entourage, nothing but the clothes on their backs. Send her there a pauper, she likes them well enough, let her go forth as one. He will be sure to reject her, but the terms of the contract are clear and he will be forced to marry her. If he does not reject her outright, their marriage will begin in mutual distrust and disgrace. It will have a powerful affect on the children, the boy is sensitive. He will hate his step-father because of his mother's misery. He might even come to look upon his time here quite differently than he does now. If all goes well, he might even be helpful in removing those who stand in his way in years to come, but we will have to move carefully. Not all of the children of your line are as ambitious as you are, sire."

Jeftus looked at him angrily, but said nothing. "We need to kill the new king..."

"We must first see that the marriage takes place," growled the dark figure. "If he sets aside the marriage, we will have a war, if not, he has few options... We are at a crucial junction; we must first see that your lineage will ascend the throne of Zambelia. He has choices even now, his brother or even others... Even though they must marry, your nephew will not be his heir, not yet. Once we have that prize, once we have made it so, we will tie up all loose ends."

Jeftus nodded, "Very well, we will wait. We will abide by the contract and we will wait."

"Excellent, sire, excellent," remarked the dark figure. With a low bow, the figure was slowly enveloped in a dark mist. Jeftus watched, his fear growing as the mist slowly dissipated, leaving him alone in the dark chamber.

Moving moved towards the door, he found himself unable to suppress a smile; at last he had found Marie truly useful.

***

Ernest squinted against the bright morning sunlight and shielded his eyes as he peered towards the lone rider thundering down the road towards the royal progress. Whoever the rider was, he was pushing his mount for all it was worth to reach them as quickly as possible. Uneasiness gripped him; Ernest had a dependable intuition and decided that it would be best not to take chances. Drawing his sword, he positioned his horse sideways across the road. The king and the others were less than a quarter of a mile behind him; he would stop the man here.

As the man drew closer, he could just make out the banner he held. Relaxing at the sight, he still maintained his road block.

"Lord Ernest," cried out the rider. "Lord Ernest, I come with an urgent message."

Ernest smiled at the rider, young Parker, the king's senior squire and a trusted messenger. More than one day had been spent teaching Parker how to fight and ride and more than one night had been spent teaching him about women and drinking. Parker pulled to a halt, his handsome face coated in sweat, his blonde hair plastered to his head.

"Lord Ernest, I come with an urgent message for the king."

"Who sent you?" asked Ernest.

"Lord Albert, milord. The Count Bartran has returned from his mission. He sent a messenger to inform his majesty that he will be arriving today. I do not know the entire content of the message, milord, but Lord Albert sent me here to urge you and your brother to return at once."

Ernest looked at him, mildly amused, "My dear fellow, we ARE returning. Surely Lord Albert knows that we are returning today, we will be back home by dinner time..."

"He requested that your brother leave the progress and return immediately," replied Parker.

Parker's message made Ernest uneasy, "If Albert thinks that a few hours in travel will make that much of a difference than it must be an important matter indeed. Down this road," he began, pointing towards his left, "is the village of Neville..."

"I know the place, milord."

"Go and get yourself a fresh mount from the stables there and return immediately. I will take this message to the king, return here and the three of us will be on our way. Go now and be quick, Parker."

Parker bowed and flew past Ernest and down the road towards the village. Ernest watched him for a moment and then turned and spurred his horse towards the oncoming group of travelers in the royal progress. Alex must be told.

***

A cold wind whipped across the splintered old wharf as the Lady Marie's carriage drew towards the end of the dock. The Talon, one of Jeftus few surviving heavy warships stood majestic and menacing in its berth as supplies were hoisted aboard by the busy crew. The carriage drew to the foot of the gangplank and was instantly surrounded by a mob of people. Royal guards rudely forced open a passage way, opening the carriage door and offering the Lady Marie and her children a hand to the ground.

"God bless you, milady," cried an old woman. "God bless you for bringing us peace."

"I'll never forget your kindness, milady," shouted another. "I'll pray for your happiness every day."

Marie turned and faced the crowd and waved, fearing that if she spoke, her words would be distorted on their way back to her brother. A muted cheer went up, the cold and fear of retaliation dampening the response to her gesture. At the top of the gangway, a smart young officer presented himself with a deep bow.

"Lady Marie, may I present myself. I am Captain Fontaine, I will be your host until we reach the port of Aleone, I hope that you and your children will want for nothing during our journey. My men will assist you with your luggage."

"Thank you, Captain. My luggage is there..." she said, pointing to a few small bags at the foot of the gangplank.

The Captain looked at the bags with surprise.

"Begging your ladyship's pardon, is that all?"

Marie smiled, patting a small bag that Jonathan held in his arms, "We have brought clothes for the journey here. Those are the rest of our possessions."

Looking to her children, Marie smiled, "These are our most important possessions, Captain. Jonathan, take your sister to the other side of the ship, I need to speak with Captain Fontaine."

"Very well, Mother."

Jonathan took his sister's hand and led her to the far side of the ship, out of hearing range of the Captain and Lady Marie.

Fontaine looked at her, embarrassment descending upon his features, "I am sorry, milady. His majesty ordered the ship to be ready for your arrival and I naturally assumed that you would have an entourage. If you do not mind me saying, I find it irregular that you are not provided with...more."

Lady Marie favored him with a tight smile. "I understand your discomfort, Captain, but we are the king's servants and must do what we must do with what he deems to give us. My estates were confiscated by the crown upon the death of my husband, I do not have independent means so while the possessions are few, they must suffice."

Moving closer, the Captain spoke to her more intimately, "I had the honor of meeting your late husband, milady. I am sorry for your loss. He was a...forceful person."

Unconsciously, Marie brought her hands to her stomach, "Thank you, Captain. I suppose you might think it strange, but I would prefer that you not speak about their father in front of the children. The wound is too... fresh."

"I understand, milady," he said, his features softening. "I do not understand, my lady, how the king can send you to our foes as a pauper. I am not a statesman, but it seems to me..."

"As it seems to me," interrupted Marie. "Captain, I would ask you not to speak of this further. I will be living in another place soon, but you sir, you are an officer in the king's navy. I worry for your safety, sir and I appreciate you worrying about mine, however, we both have our orders."

Fontaine nodded at the justice of her words, "If there is anything I can do to make your voyage more comfortable, please, you have but to ask. May I accompany you to your cabin?"

Lady Marie nodded, "Yes, thank you, Captain Fontaine."

As he offered her his arm, Lady Marie called out to her children, "Jonathan, Annalisse, come."

As the children rejoined them, Lady Marie fell into step with the Captain trying to hide her growing anxiety. Where would this journey bring her and her children?

### Chapter 6

Alex' room was a large stone chamber in the northern tower of the great castle at Wharton. A suite of two rooms divided by a curtain, it offered a large antechamber with chairs and a huge fire place where visitors might congregate. Behind a velvet curtain draped between the two rooms in a stone archway lay Alex' bed, a massive four corner structure as well as a dresser, a closet and a table with two chairs set before a smaller fire place.

Four men sat around the table in the antechamber. Three of them, Alex, Ernest and Count Bartran, watched patiently as the fourth, Albert, read the document the Count had brought to them. After the other members of the council had read the document, they had given Alex no hope of any solution to his dilemma. Albert had been absent and now the King had placed the document in his hands with the hope of some sort of resolution.

Alex peered over at Bartran and shook his head, unable to conceive the change in the Count's appearance; he was hard pressed to think of anyone who looked so absolutely miserable. Turning to Albert, he smiled hopefully; Albert possessed the keenest legal mind in the kingdom and while not exceptionally helpful against dragons, if there was a way out of their current situation, Albert would be the one to find it. He nodded at the Count, certain that Albert would find the necessary flaw.

After several tense minutes, Albert looked up favoring his king with an odd, little smile.

"It's not so bad."

"See, my dear Count, I knew that Albert would find a way," stated Alex happily.

"So you've found a way to disentangle ourselves from the document?" asked the Count excitedly.

"Oh no," replied Albert, "no, not at all. It is an iron clad document, you should be commended my friend. It really is frightfully well written."

"But you said it wasn't so bad," stated Alex, completely disheartened.

"I was not referring to the document, sire," Albert stated gently. "I was speaking of marriage. It takes some getting used to, there are compromises on both sides, of course, but it can be and most often is, a wonderful thing."

Alex eyed Ernest as a last resort.

"The way I see it, you have two options," began his brother thoughtfully. "Marry her and accept the consequences or refuse to marry her and accept the consequences. If you refuse to marry her, Jeftus will have justifiable reasons to go to arms and you will leave our neighbors with no choice but to join him in defending the honor of a woman who has been insulted. They cannot be faulted; it is after all the duty of every honorable people to defend the rights of women. Also, you must remember that her first husband held enormous sway in several courts..."

"I met him once," interrupted Albert. "A tall impressive looking fellow, extremely handsome and capable..."

"Not unlike myself," added Ernest.

"I too met him," stated the Count, "A charismatic, arrogant, well educated devil. But that was the public man, what he was like in private life, I cannot guess. There were never any rumors about discontent in their marriage amongst the diplomats who met with them. As Lord Albert said, he was an exceptionally good looking rogue..."

"He was very handsome and he knew it too," added Albert. "Still, we must stick to the facts. He is dead; it is the lady that we must be concerned with."

"She is a good woman, from all appearances," offered the Count weakly. "She sold her jewelry to soften the suffering of the poor..."

"They all are good in appearances until you trifle with them," stated Ernest with a laugh. Reading his brother's pained expression, he became instantly contrite. "I am sorry brother, I did not think."

"So you really think that our neighbors would go to war?" asked Alex to no one in particular.

"I have no doubt," replied Albert. "A woman slighted would allow Jeftus to call upon his former allies AND enemies. In good conscious, they would rally to the lady's defense, wouldn't you in like circumstances?"

"Perhaps we could send emissaries to the other courts, explaining the situation," stated the Count.

"The world desires peace," stated Albert reasonably, "but not at the cost of a woman's honor. If we slighted an agreement we pressed so hard for, it can only be seen as an insult to the lady. Nations, even rival nations, do not degrade themselves by insulting each other's women. No one would stand for it, nor should they."

A knock on the door interrupted them.

"Enter," commanded Alex.

Stasha, Albert's wife, appeared with a tray laden with food and drink. Chubby, gray haired and pretty, Stasha had raised the king's sons after the death of their mother.

"You cannot sit up all night and think clearly on an empty stomach," she called out pleasantly, setting the tray down on the table. Looking at the four, she immediately grew concerned. "Alright then, what is the matter? Why such long faces? Count Bartran, you look sick, what ails you?"

"Alex does not like his wife," stated Ernest.

"His wife?" barked Stasha. "What wife? I was not even invited to the wedding?"

"There has not been a wedding, Stasha," laughed Albert, "but from the words on this document, there will be one soon."

"Congratulations," beamed Stasha as she hugged Alex. Stepping back without releasing him, she studied his face, "Well, what is wrong?"

"Alex is not sure he should marry," stated Ernest.

"Of course you should marry," Stasha laughed. "You are the king; you are supposed to have a Queen. Don't you like the girl? Who is she?"

"He hasn't met her," state Ernest, "and I believe he fears that she may be homely. Also she would not be Queen; she would be his Royal Consort."

"So what," replied Stasha. "Remember the old saying; a plain face makes a kind heart! Besides, no matter her title, you should treat her like a Queen if she consents to be your wife."

"Your saying is not always true," interrupted Albert. "Take you for instance, you're beautiful and kindhearted!"

"How nice of you to notice that your wife is the exception," beamed Stasha.

"First rule of marriage, milord, is that your wife is the exception of every rule!" laughed Albert.

"I hope the Lady Marie is an exception as well, for she really is quite lovely," stated the Count.

"I've always found that women referred to as lovely are described as such by men who either have poor eyesight or bad intentions," stated Ernest.

"Everyone agrees that the woman is most handsome," the Count bristled. "They say that she and her husband made the most attractive couple..."

"Her husband?" asked Stasha. "I thought Alex was the husband."

"Alex is her future husband," stated Albert. "She was married before."

"And she has two children," stated Alex. "I am not sure if I am ready to be a husband, never mind a father..."

"Well, that makes things different," stated Stasha thoughtfully. Turning to her husband, she raised an eyebrow, "Tell him how to be a good father."

"When the children come to you with a question, send them to their mother. When they request something, send them to their mother. Finally, if you feel you will be asked to make a decision of any importance, immediately consult your wife and do what she thinks best. If she is not, for some reason, available, stall. If you can't stall, hide."

"See, it is easy," stated Stasha, hugging Alex once more before turning to leave. "Oh, is anyone else allowed to know about this?"

"No, my dear, not for the time being," stated Albert. "It would be best if no one knew for now."

Stasha smiled and gave her husband a quick peck on the cheek before retiring.

"There is another matter that I fear I must bring to your majesty's attention," began the Count painfully. "As you know, the Lady Marie, while quite attractive, is older than your majesty."

Alex turned towards him and gave a small smile. "I know, my dear Count; would you be able to tell me how much older?"

"Your highness is twenty eight years old," he stammered, "and the lady is, as best I can verify, thirty nine years old, a difference of eleven years."

"He does math well," commented Ernest to no one in particular.

Alex eyed the anxious expression on the Count's face and turning towards the fire, waved his hand at him, "I can tell that there is more, so please, continue..."

"Due to an accident a few years ago," the Count lowered himself into a seat and continued, unable to look at Alex, "the lady is unable to have anymore children."

Albert and Ernest exchanged glances and then looked away. In an instant the problem had grown while the options had diminished.

"If she had been your father's wife, the condition would have proven ideal..." began Bartran, who placed his hands over his face, unable to continue.

Alex stared at the flames for a time and then with a deep breath he moved to the Count's side.

"My dear Count, you did exactly what my father had instructed you to do. You acted in the best interests of the kingdom," he said softly. "You have no reason to feel that you have failed me. You have always been a true friend and a patriot and I order you to stop grieving and to cease worrying. From my heart, I thank you for all that you have done."

Lowering himself into the chair opposite the Count, Alex took a sip of wine and began calmly. "When will the Lady Marie and her children arrive?"

"If all goes well, milord, in four weeks," replied Bartran softly.

Alex considered it a moment, "Very well... Albert, I want a proclamation announcing the nuptials prepared and sent out by tomorrow morning. In accordance with the ancient tradition of our people, I will greet the new bride here at Wharton. Ernest, I would like you, Albert and Stasha to prepare for the nuptials and the celebrations that will take place here. Count Bartran..."

The Count looked up sadly.

"I am assuming that the plan is that the Lady will land at the port of Aleone?"

"Yes, sire, so I have instructed her."

"Tradition states that I greet her here, so I would be honored if you would act as my emissary when the lady arrives. You will meet her at the dock and arrange for the transportation of herself, her children and her entourage. You will, of course, send me updates of your progress. I place at your disposal any resources you will need to make the lady feel welcome. Spare no expense, my friend, she is to be my bride and we only have one chance to make a good impression."

The Count rose with tears in his eyes and moved to Alex who stood and embraced him.

"Thank you, sire."

After a long while, Alex patted his old friend on the back, "It will be all right." Letting go of the Count, he looked up at Ernest and Albert, "Well gentlemen, if you don't mind, please take the rest of this food and wine and leave me; I wish to have sometime alone to think."

"Do you want me to stay?" asked Ernest softly.

"Thank you, Ernest, no. I just need some time..."

Picking up the tray, the three men moved silently to the door to leave the king alone with his thoughts.

An hour later, a knock at his door drew Alex out of his thoughts and he opened the door to find Lady Gertrude, Count Bartran's daughter standing in the hall. Two years younger than the king, Gertrude was extremely beautiful, with golden blonde hair and mesmerizing blue eyes. She had grown up with Ernest and Alex and had always looked up to them as her protectors and best friends.

"Oh, Alex," she cried, eyes filled with tears. "Father has just told me, is it true; are you to marry?"

Before he could reply, she plunged into his arms and hugged him tightly. Alex smiled and kissed her gently on top of the head.

"It appears to be so," he stated quietly. "If we want to end the war, I must wed the lady."

Gertrude looked up at him, "Is she to be your Queen?"

"No," replied Alex, "no, she is to be given the title of Royal Consort. It appears that for the time being, I will not have a Queen..."

"Oh, Alex..."

He led her to a chair and eased her down into it, kneeling beside her.

"Gertrude, you must try not to be upset..." he began.

"How can I not be?" she answered. "I will die if you are unhappy my dear, you know that, you know my feelings and to think that my father brought this about..."

"Your father has served our kingdom all of his life and he has done so now," stated Alex firmly. "You must never blame your father, my dear, it would upset him and I terribly."

"Oh Alex, I could not stand it if I knew you were upset with me..."

"I'm not, Gertrude, I'm not," he smiled, gently guiding her to her feet and back towards the door. "Now you must go, I need to think, the idea is still too new for me to fully comprehend. Besides, it would be awkward if you were found here with the newly betrothed King..."

As he opened the door, she leaned towards him and kissed him gently on the cheek.

"It will be all right," she stated, stepping beyond the door. Stopping, she turned towards him, "I promise you, Alex, that one day, you WILL have the Queen of your heart." Turning to hide her tears, she ran down the hall towards the stairs.

He watched her for a moment and then closed the door softly. It would be difficult, but he must put Gertrude out of his mind, there were so many things that he had to think about...

### Chapter 7

Annalisse stood on the deck and watched the dolphins jumping happily in the wake of the speeding warship. Twice in the last three days the ship had been approached by ships from Zambelia who observed them for a time and then disappeared over the horizon. Jonathan had explained that the ships were saluting their mother and were hurrying back to their own land to bring the news to the people of that country that the king's bride would soon arrive. Annalisse imagined enormous celebrations and fancy balls with people dressed in fine clothes all anxiously waiting to meet her mother. Loving her mother as she did, she was sure that everyone they met would love her as well. How different things would be in this new world they were going to, how beautiful and grand it would all be...

Jonathan stood near his sister, enjoying the feeling of freedom that the swift passage over the waves and sea offered. He tried not to worry about how his new father would treat them, but it was never far from his mind. Mother believed that all would be well and he wanted to believe her. He worried about how his new brothers would perceive him, would they like him? Would they tease him or bully him? Would they be kind to his mother and to Annalisse? What would he do if they were not? He took a deep breath and watched the dolphins, how lucky they were to be able to just go below the waves and disappear.

Looking up Jonathan saw the captain raising his telescope towards their left and crew members on deck gesturing. Turning, Jonathan could just see the beginning of a land mass and midway between the land and the Talon, a group of five ships. From this distance the ships seemed quite small, but over the next hour they grew increasingly larger until he realized that they were all at least as large as the ship he was on, if not larger.

"Who do you suppose they are?" asked the Lady Marie as she came up behind him, interrupting his thoughts.

"I would think that they are escort vessels, Mama," he replied softly. "We must be nearing a harbor, see, there are smaller boats behind them."

Annalisse wandered up and pointed to the five large vessels, "They're coming to see you, Mama."

"They're coming to see all of us," she replied.

"Do you think the king is on one of those ships?" asked Jonathan.

"No, my dear," replied Marie. "He will have sent courtiers to greet us."

"Do you think there will be many people to greet us, Mama?" asked Annalisse.

"I do not think so," replied Marie quietly. She did not have the heart to tell her daughter that a Royal Consort was of no importance. If there were celebrations planned, they would most certainly be to celebrate the king's triumph over his enemy Jeftus. Marie could not contain a small smile, thinking that even she would be glad to drink a toast to that.

***

Count Bartran stood on the deck of his majesty's flag ship, Tempest, eager to transfer to the Talon for his talk with the Lady Marie. Now, more than ever, he was determined to be his king's good servant, to make this transition as easy as possible for Alex and for the kingdom as a whole. The Tempest finally came along side of the Talon and signaled her to halt and prepare for the arrival of visitors. The Count and several other officials joined a group of sailors in one of the life boats. Making their way through the calm waters at the mouth of the harbor, they soon boarded the Talon.

The Count and his entourage were greeted formally by Captain Fontaine, who immediately requested a private audience with the Count. While his officers entertained the other members of the count's party, Captain Fontaine retreated with the Count to his quarters.

Speaking quietly, the Captain explained the Lady Marie's situation to Count Bartran.

"Her entire luggage consists of three small trunks for herself and her children. I do not know what your lordship or his majesty was expecting, but I inform you of this so that you might alter your plans if necessary."

"Your king sent her ladyship here with nothing?" asked Bartran. "What of her husband's estates?"

The Captain looked away, embarrassed.

"The king confiscated the lady's estates prior to our journey. Her ladyship is, for all intents and purposes, a pauper, sir. I felt it my duty to explain her situation to you prior to our arrival in port to save both his majesty and her ladyship embarrassment."

Bartran considered the situation briefly, "Take me to the Lady Marie."

The captain bowed and led him down the corridor to a forward cabin. Knocking on the door, he stepped back as the voice answered, "Enter."

The Count Bartran entered the cabin to find the Lady Marie standing before her two children who were seated on stools on either side of her. Count Bartran looked at the children and then at Fontaine.

Bowing low, he said softly, "Greetings, milady. I hope your journey was pleasant. I hate to speak so directly, milady, but might I ask that your children and the captain leave us for a moment, I have some information that I wish to share with you."

Looking at her son, Marie spoke quietly, "Jonathan, Annalisse, please go on deck and greet our visitors. Captain, you have my leave to go."

"Captain, please wait outside," stated the Count. "I will need your assistance in a moment."

With a bow, the Captain withdrew as the children quietly left their mother and the Count alone.

Bartran closed the cabin door and spoke quietly but firmly. "I have been apprised of your situation, your highness. I apologize for the awkwardness that it has caused you, but I believe I have an answer to the problem it represents. Before I go further, however, there is a situation of greater importance that I must address with you, with your permission."

Marie laughed, "If you truly know my situation, Count Bartran, I cannot imagine what you think might be of greater importance? My children and I come to you, beggars at your doorstep with neither resource nor recourse and you speak of a more important situation? You will excuse me, sir, if I find that a poor choice of words."

"You are no pauper, your highness," replied the Count softly. "I am the king's servant, and I will see to it that you and your children want for nothing. I need you to momentarily set that problem aside for a situation of greater consideration DOES exist."

Marie sat down, her expression stony. The man was actually serious; he really believed that he had a problem of greater consequences to discuss with her.

"Please, sir, go ahead, I am at a loss of how anything could be of greater consequence short of the execution of my children, but please, go ahead."

"Thank you, milady. As we are both aware, your highness has come to Zambelia to marry the king," began Bartran. "You believed that you would be marrying his Majesty, King Joseph. I must report to you that his Majesty, King Joseph died some weeks ago."

Marie's face changed subtly from anger to true concern.

"I do not understand. Are you telling me that his Majesty is dead?"

"Yes, milady."

For a moment, Marie was unable to comprehend what this would mean for her or her children. Jeftus would not take them back, having confiscated all of their property. Certainly the new king would not marry her...they knew she could not produce an heir and she had to be at least ten years older than the king. There could be no doubt, he would reject the treaty and then...and then what?

"What does this mean for my children and my country, sir?" she asked softly. "Please, Count Bartran, explain the consequences of this to me. It is too much for me to consider..."

"The treaty is an iron clad agreement, milady," stated the Count thoughtfully. "If either party does not abide by its terms, the other would be justified in claiming that their opponent had broken the agreement and the war would continue. The Kingdom of Zambelia will honor its commitments, your majesty. You will be married to the new king, King Alex."

"King Joseph's son?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes, your highness..."

"His son?" she repeated. "How can I marry his son? He can be no more than thirty years of age and I can no longer..." her hands unconsciously folded across her stomach. "Does he realize..."

"His majesty realizes the full extent of the situation and wishes me, on his behalf, to welcome you to his kingdom and express to you his wish for your future happiness as man and wife," the Count stated formally. "While he is certain that you would be surprised by this turn of events, he believes that you will agree with him that the consequences of disregarding the treaty far outweigh any hesitations that you or he might consider."

Marie's thoughts turned to the people who had seen them off at the wharf, the people counting on her to secure the peace her country so desperately needed. Still, even if she consented, King Alex could not take the affront that her brother offered without retaliating in some way.

"My brother has insulted his majesty, the king..."

The Count gave her a conspiratorial smile, "I think, your highness, we might defuse that situation if we act promptly and discreetly."

"In what way?" asked Marie.

"With your permission, I would like to recall Captain Fontaine."

Marie nodded, "Very well, but what for?"

The Count momentarily ignored her question and stepping to the door, gestured the captain to reenter the room.

"Captain Fontaine, I am aware of her highness' concerns regarding her reputation and the reputation of your nation and I believe that we might save both without exposing anyone to ridicule."

"If I can help in anyway, sir..."

"You will follow the ships of my lord's navy into port," began Bartran, "and disembark her majesty and her children. You will immediately leave the port once her majesty is disembarked leaving me to explain that you are going off in search of an escort ship that you were separated from during the voyage. I will explain that her ladyship's luggage and entourage were on the vessel that is currently lost. I will send two of the ships now circling us with you to assist you in the search with orders to accompany you back half way to your home port. The news will save her majesty from any inconvenience and will save both you and your nation from disgrace and dishonor."

"I appreciate your actions, sir, but what will happen when we return to port and the story is refuted?"

The Count stepped closer to him and lowered his voice, "By that time, my dear captain, the passes will be open. I do not think that King Jeftus will take the chance of upsetting his majesty further by refuting his "understanding" of events."

Fontaine stepped back with a slight smile. "Very well, sir, I will do all that you ask."

Turning to Marie, the Count bowed again, "Is there anything that I might do for your highness prior to your arrival in port?"

Marie shook her head, still trying to contemplate all that was happening.

"Very well, then. I will return to his majesty's flag ship Tempest and issue the appropriate orders. Captain, I ask that you follow your escort into the harbor, I will go on ahead to make sure that everything is at the ready. With your permission..."

Marie nodded at the noble figure bowing before her. "You have my permission," she replied. What else was there to say?

***

"You must be joking."

Alex had fought in wars, had fought wild animals, had even slain a dragon, but the look of terror in his eyes had never been matched by what appeared there now.

"It must be done, sire," intoned Albert solemnly.

Alex stared hard at the four men who stood before him.

"Better all at once," stated Ernest, "it will be easier on you."

"Do I really need more?" asked Alex.

"To be safe, yes," replied Albert. We must stand our ground with him, he thought, it is for his own good.

"Oh, very well," Alex moaned. "Do it if it must be done, but do it quickly."

Ernest nodded towards the four men who immediately surrounded the unwilling subject and began to measure him.

"I still do not understand why I need new clothes," Alex crabbed.

"We have no idea what the lady will be wearing," stated Albert. "There is no time left and we must be prepared for any preference on her part."

"I dislike being fitted," growled Alex, staring daggers at the tailors who worked quickly to dodge his glance. "Long sleeves, short sleeves, who cares? I look an ass in the latest styles anyway."

"You must impress your new bride, first as a stylish ass. Later in your marriage, when it is too late, she will realize you are just an unstylish ass," intoned Ernest, "but in the beginning, she must not suspect."

"I know nothing about marriage," grumbled Alex. "The closer the day comes the more panic I feel. This is a widow with two children, what if I am bad at being a husband? She will have traveled a great distance hoping for a good husband and find one with no experience. She will be distraught if she is not already..."

"It is nothing to be feared," stated Albert. "You will grow to know each other, to trust each other..."

"And after you know each other, you will both be distraught," finished Ernest.

"She will be here in a week," Alex continued, eyeing the tailor closest to him with contempt. "Perhaps I should have awaited her arrival at Aleone myself."

"Count Bartran is handling that," stated Albert. "You need to be here, there is still much to do."

"Her first husband was handsome, wasn't he?" asked Alex.

"A very handsome man," agreed Albert. "Looks, however, are not everything. Women have different standards than men."

"And men when they drink have no standards at all," added Ernest. "Come now, you aren't concerned about her former husband are you? You are the king; you can be as ugly as a dragon's ass when you are the king, looks don't enter into it at all. The rest of us must have good looks and charm, which is why God, in His mercy, made me good looking and charming and you king."

"You joke, but you are not the one who will be compared to her former husband. You can not fight a memory, you know..."

"You worry about nothing," replied his brother. "She is older; she might not be able to remember..."

Alex pointed at his brother sending one of the tailors flying, "Be careful someone does not report such a comment to her. You want to be on good terms with your sister in law."

"If she has no sense of humor we will never get on anyway," replied Ernest. With a smile he looked at his brother, "If she has no sense of humor, neither will you..."

### Chapter 8

Duke Ransrel was a large, self important man, dressed in a splendid red uniform, his massive sword swinging from his belt, his breast plate embellished with gold. His large head was crowned with flowing brown hair that cascaded to his shoulders. A massive mustache flowed above a noble mouth and a heavy, full nose anchored a heavy set of eyebrows. His dark eyes sat behind heavy lids. Striding into the throne room, a trail of junior officers following in his wake, he moved purposely toward the throne before bowing grandly.

"Your majesty," he rumbled, his deep voice filling the chamber and echoing out into the hall, reverberating in the darkness outside the chamber.

King Jeftus looked down moodily at the Duke and waved at him to rise.

"I want you to abandon the frontier positions that have been indicated in the treaty as quickly as possible and establish our new perimeter within the areas indicated."

The Duke stepped back, astounded.

"Abandon our outposts before we are required to do so? I must protest your highness..."

"Oh, shut up," grumped Jeftus. "If you had protested more effectively in battle instead of running away to "consolidate" your forces, we wouldn't be in the situation we are in now. I don't want to discuss it, pull back, leave nothing behind at the mountain passes and set up a strong defensive position."

"It will be difficult, milord," stated the Duke. "I still have not completed the reorganization of our forces..."

"I don't care about your reorganization, I don't care about the difficulties, I don't care about anything that you have to say, my dear, dear Duke." Jeftus rose and lumbered down from his throne and confronted the Duke face to face. "If you had deployed your cavalry at the Battle of Skypass, we would have not lost the northern providences. If you had guarded your supply line at the Battle of Eldinor, we might have held our western most provinces. Need I go on, Duke, about the fine work you have done for me? Your job now is to keep what we have safe until I arrange to take back what you have lost. You have a month to abandon your current positions, now get out."

The Duke opened his mouth as if to respond, than thinking better of it, he bowed and left the chamber. Jeftus watched him leave with his entourage and smiled. The dark figure would remove the Duke once he had served his purpose and then Jeftus would have a leader for his army worthy of their abilities. Still, there was much to do until that time, so very much to do. Until then, he would bide his time and satisfy himself by insulting the King of Zambelia as much as protocol and his cowardice allowed.

***

Count Bartran disliked telling lies, admittedly an odd attribute in a career diplomat, but he could only imagine the people going mad if they felt that their new king had been insulted. The people had been overjoyed at the news of the coming nuptials and while they had almost no information regarding the Lady Marie, they saw the union as the end of the war and the beginning of prosperity and peace. King Joseph's wife, Queen Anna, had been beloved by the people. By letting it be known that the lady was the harbinger of peace it would make her even more special. Still, both the king and his consort would be fighting many memories.

Staring at the mouth of the harbor, he finally was able to make out the vessels he had left behind to escort the Talon. The masts of the tall, wooden ships suddenly burst into whirling colors as signalers vigorously waved message flags to their counterparts on land.

From the ships, the seaman looked upon the beautiful docks of Aleone, upon the tiered levels of houses that rose from the docks toward the cliffs that stood above harbor. The beautiful white stone houses that greeted the sea from every direction came alive, people filling every window and balcony, every winding street that led down to the dock, every tree and outcropping, seeking a glimpse of the king's bride and her children. Banners unfurled with greetings, church bells began to play, bands led parades down the five main streets that led to the piers, each parade as boisterous and filled with glory as it could be.

Bartran loved the City of Aleone, had been born here and knew its people, its customs and its rich history. Today was an historic day and he had no intention of letting Jeftus' snub effect the people or, indeed, the Lady. Awaiting the arrival of the ship on top of the Pier Tower, he glanced nervously around the crowd until he caught sight of his chamberlain, Edward Tralaine. Tralaine was a thin and wiry man of thirty with a face filled with sharp features. His dark eyes lessened the harsh effect, his tact and kindness instantly readable in their glance. Wearing his best court dress, a suite of rich, green velvet, he moved quickly through the crowd and entered the tower, emerging on the observation level in a remarkably short amount of time. Moving quickly to the Count he bowed and discreetly looked past him to gauge the arrival of the ships.

"It is done, milord," he said briskly. "I have replaced the seats originally slated for her highnesses entourage with members of the various noble families. I have also requested your daughter to meet you in your study when you arrive with her ladyship."

Tralaine bowed, unable to contain a slight smile. He knew that this week carried incredible importance and that his performance would decide whether he obtained his position or not.

"Excellent, Tralaine, excellent," smiled the Count. "Now when we get back to the palace, I will need you to run interference with the guests while I attend to these other matters."

Tralaine bowed, "As my lord commands."

Suddenly such a roar went up from the crowd that those on the tower felt the building sway. Bartran looked up and saw that the Talon had come into view and the crowd had surged towards the long pier where it would lay anchor. The noise level continued to increase and suddenly the entire mass of people seemed to be waving something all at once. Trumpets and drums began to play and with the bells and the roar of the crowd, made speaking impossible.

The count motioned Tralaine to follow him and the two men made their way to the base of the tower where an open coach awaited them. A company of armed cavalry surrounded the coach and together, they worked their way to the entrance to the long pier. Moving down the pier, the force of the tumult behind them, the count felt as if the carriage was being forced forward by sound alone. The Talon now glided beyond its escort and gingerly made its way into the harbor until it came to a halt at the very end of the pier and dropped anchor. As the anchor hit the water another roar went up from the crowd and people surged forward, barely held back by the armed guards that protected the pier entrance.

The adjoining piers were filled with the people of Aleone, anxiously striving to see the new bride and her children. Women held up their children, pointing to the ship and explaining that today was a most important day. The crowd watched the sailors throw ropes to the wharf men and the cheering grew louder still.

The count could scarcely hear himself think as the carriage drew to the end of the gangplank that was being hoisted and secured to the ship. Descending the coach, the count waited patiently as the lines were secured and all was made ready.

Then, the sailors aboard ship fell back and at the top of the gangplank stood a lithe, graceful figure in a rusty, brown colored gown, her auburn hair falling gracefully past her shoulders and down her back, crowned with a cap of the same colored material. The gown seemed worn but neat, a favorite traveling gown perhaps and it displayed its wearer to great advantage.

Lady Marie stared out for a moment at the crowd, thunder struck at the reception. What were all of these people doing here? The noise, the colors, the sheer numbers of people waving to her, calling to her, crying, begging, laughing, it seemed inconceivable. She stood for a long moment at the top of the gangplank unable to do anything but let the noise wash over her. She had expected a few curious onlookers, but nothing approaching this magnitude. She glanced back at the children and smiled, she must show them how to respond and how to react.

Count Bartran stepped forward and swept a deep bow to the lithe figure in the brown gown. Like a giant wave, the action swept through the city until the entire city was bowing towards the small figure on the ship in the harbor. The cheering had ceased completely. The only sound was the wind echoing down the winding streets and playing amongst the ropes and masts of the ships, the banners snapping in the breeze and the creaking of the wooden vessels against the docks.

The small woman who stood on the deck of the gently swaying vessel worked diligently not to appear to be overwhelmed. She thought of her own people, so frightened of provoking her brother's wrath that they had barely acknowledged her going. Here a people who had no idea of who she was or what she might be capable of embraced her and her children in eager expectation. Swallowing hard, aware that the crowd expected her to speak, but more importantly, that her children stood silently watching her, she slowly made her way down the gangplank to stand before the count and his officers.

"Count Bartran," she said as loudly as she could manage.

The Count raised his head, but remained bowed.

"I thank you for this splendid welcome. I have nothing to give to you or the people of this great land but myself, my family and my love. These are small gifts, but they are given with my entire heart." Touching his shoulder gently, she smiled at him and bade him rise.

"Your highness," the Count replied loudly, trying hard to mask his deep emotion. "On behalf of our king, my Lord Alex, and of all of the people of his Kingdom, but most especially, the people of Aleone, I welcome you and praise God for granting us such a great gift!"

The whole people rose and a tumult of waving, cheering and applause rained down upon the little group gathered at the end of the pier.

Lady Marie turned and signaled to Jonathan, who took Annalisse by the hand and made his way to the top of the gangplank. The people of Aleone erupted with renewed vigor when they saw the tall, thin Jonathan in his royal blue suit, his straight brown hair and large brown eyes giving him the look of a poet. Jonathan walked down the gangplank tall and straight, stiffly acknowledging the acclaim of the masses, gradually revealing a shy smile.

Behind him, holding his hand, Annalisse wore an orange gown. Her curly blonde hair shone in the bright sun and her smiling dark eyes and beautiful face revealed a dimple. Unlike her brother she smiled and waved enthusiastically.

Turning to her brother, she yelled as loud as she could, "See, Jonathan, see! They love Mama, I knew they would, everyone loves Mama!"

The Count offered Lady Marie his arm and gallantly led her to the coach. Helping her to board the coach, he climbed in next to her, followed by Annalisse and Jonathan.

"We will go to the Alcazar of Aleone, for which the city is named; it is the palace of my ancestors. Once we are there, I will present my itinerary for your approval, your highness. Also, there are several other items we need to discuss."

With a sharp signal to the officer of the guards, the little group set off down the pier and through the winding streets of Aleone. Bouquets poured into the carriage from all sides along with gifts and candies. Soon the occupants found themselves up to their shoulders in flowers and assorted presents and the wave of gifts continued to pour in from those lining the streets. Annalisse clutched her favorite bouquets to her and waved to everyone, while Jonathan eyed his mother, conscientiously imitating her waving to the throngs that crowded the streets.

The Alcazar of Aleone had originated as a fortress on the edge of the forest that ended on the bluffs above the port. As the port had grown, the town had grown and prospered and the need for defense had increased. Made of massive white stone walls that soared fifty feet above the bluffs, the fortress boasted six enormous spiraling towers each with an intricately carved stone gateway. The carriage headed for the Queens gate, so named because the coat of arms of each Queen had been worked into its design.

Jonathan looked up at the white stone citadel and remembered one of the sailors on their ship swearing "by the six spires of Aleone". He could not imagine the processions, the intrigues, the power that had created such a magnificent palace. He swallowed hard, anticipating all that he had to learn and see.

The mounted guards surged through the gate followed by the carriage with the remainder of the cavalry guard swooping in behind them. The crowd was held back with difficulty at the iron gates that closed behind the last of the horsemen by foot soldiers, shinning in the sunlight that reflected off of their full armor.

Alighting from the carriage, the Count led his guests into a large entrance hall, surprising a crowd of nobles by gliding past them and leading Marie and her children up a flight of stairs to a suite of rooms on the second floor. After a brief tour of rooms, he begged her pardon and left her, Jonathan and Annalisse alone.

"Oh, Mama," Annalisse began a half dozen times, but finding herself too excited to continue, she would just hug Marie and find herself beginning again.

Jonathan rose and walked about the rooms, obviously conscious of the muffled cheers that echoed down the hallway from the crowds outside.

"They certainly seem excited, Mother," he stated thoughtfully.

"A royal wedding is always something to be excited about," responded Marie. "One day, Jonathan, there may be crowds just like this cheering and wishing you well."

"And me, Mama?" laughed Annalisse. "What about me, Mama?"

Marie laughed, "Yes, you too."

"Will you marry him, Mother?" asked Jonathan suddenly.

Marie gazed at her son, made anxious by his perception and sensitive.

"Jonathan, my situation is unique, my love. When it comes time for you to marry, I pray that you will marry because you find someone you love and who loves you. For me, there are other considerations. No matter how badly your uncle has treated us, we now have a chance to do a great good here, but I don't want to do a great good by hurting someone."

"So you will offer his majesty the chance to cancel the wedding," stated Jonathan quietly. "What will happen if he accepts your offer?"

"I will ask him to let us stay here," said Marie, extending her hand and drawing her son closer to her and Annalisse. "Perhaps I can become a servant..."

"A servant, Mother?" Jonathan asked. "I could do something, Mother. I could learn a trade or..."

"No Jonathan, no... You and Annalisse have been very brave and very strong, but I am still your mother and I do not want you to worry. We may live a very different type of life here, we may not have titles, but we will live and thrive here. We will adapt, Jonathan."

Jonathan looked down at their hands, intertwined. "My sword master said that if you cannot adapt, you will lose your life."

"That's right, Jonathan. You must adapt, we all must adapt."

Jonathan and Annalisse smiled at their mother.

"As long as we're with you, Mama," smiled Annalisse, "we can do anything."

***

"He wishes to see you."

Alex looked at the Duke of Jervins and motioned him to take a seat opposite him in his study. He had sent the Duke to the Dragon King as a special envoy regarding the creature he had killed. His father had always maintained good relations with the dragons and the attack had been a surprise to all of his subjects.

"Was his majesty upset?" asked Alex, quietly considering the ramifications of a positive response.

"Thankfully, no, milord," replied the Duke. "I cannot be certain of what he wants to speak with you about, but he did say that he thought you had acted reasonably in your dealings with the creature that had attacked us. You will know more, of course, when you speak with him. His majesty does not reveal himself easily to mere representatives."

Alex smiled, "You are no "mere" representative, my dear duke. Still, I wish he had confided more to you than this brief message."

"I can only think that he wishes to speak with you about an important matter; for your ears only."

Alex rose, "Then I will go and see him at once. I can be back in three days and I am weary of wedding planning and preparing for celebrations. I need to get away, even on an urgent mission."

"How can I assist your majesty?" asked the Duke.

"I would appreciate it if you led the escort," stated Alex. "I will speak to Albert and my brother; I want to leave as soon as possible."

The duke bowed and withdrew, leaving Alex with his thoughts. The Dragon King would not have summoned him if it were not important, best to settle the issue as quickly as possible. Besides, he could not bear to continue waiting for his bride. He should have gone to the port and greeted her himself, he might as well have known immediately if they could make it work. Instead he had sent Bartran and the Lady Gertrude... He had gone to great lengths to remind Gertrude that she must make the lady feel welcome. The lady had not asked to come here... He should have gone himself, he thought, no sense putting off bad news, his father used to say, no sense indeed!

### Chapter 9

The Sultan of Chanra sat on a divan in his dressing chamber, awaiting his Lord Chamberlain's summons. He had finished bathing and dressing and had been attended to by his servants. The room in which he sat was only about ten meters long by about twenty meters wide, so there were only about twenty servants in the room with him, a manageable amount. Looking down at the servant who had just released his hand, he took a moment to admire her handiwork. She had done her magic, his nails were exquisite, a work of art. Looking past them, he smiled at the young girl dressed in a beautiful red silk gown that had filed and polished them. Raising his foot, he kicked her from the stool upon which she sat and spoke to her paternally.

"You did a fine job, but you must not become proud! Pride is a dangerous thing, pride ruins nations and men, so for a woman, it is even more of a curse. Never be proud!"

Rising from the divan, he called for a mirror and examined his reflection. He was handsome; there was no doubt about that, his dark hair just starting to gray, his dark eyes, bright and shining, his beard, a gift from the gods. The court poet had written sonnets about his chin and his nose... the gods themselves had caressed his nose as a mother might caress her favorite child, such a nose as this had to be the work of the gods.

He looked at the young woman dressed in a green silk gown holding the mirror for him, noting how extremely beautiful she was. Obviously her family had sent her here to woo his heart in the hopes that she might become one of his brides. He suddenly lashed out with his hand, pushing it violently against her soft, full chest, sending her sprawling backwards.

Speaking to her paternally, he remarked, "Beauty means nothing. Anything can be made beautiful, anything can be made ugly. Do not think that you are beautiful. Beauty is a dangerous thing for a man to possess, for a woman; it is even more of a curse! Never think you are beautiful!"

The Lord Chamberlain entered and bowed low, his flowing robes of white silk trimmed in the king's colors of gold, green and red sweeping the floor as he paid homage. It was an expensive suit, laced through with gold thread, precious stones and rich fabric. Rising the Lord Chamberlain spoke in a beautifully modulated voice.

"I despise myself for having to trouble your serene majesty, but our visitor awaits your presence in the audience chamber."

The Sultan nodded and slipped his golden sandals on. Turning, he pulled his robe of state over his shoulders and lifted up a beautifully carved wooden staff encrusted with priceless jewels.

"Lead on," he instructed.

As the Lord Chamberlain turned to lead the sultan out of the chamber, he smote him on top of the head with the staff, knocking him to his knees. The man fell to his side, staring in a daze at the Sultan.

"Do not think that rich fabrics make you important! Better men than you have been deceived by rich clothing! For a man it is a terrible flaw, for a woman it is an unbearable curse! Do not place your faith in fabrics!"

The Lord Chamberlain rose unsteadily and with a quick kick from the Sultan, resumed his place, walking before the Sultan and announcing his presence. The Sultan's audience chamber was enormous, covered in silk tapestries and rich fabrics, with enormous urns upon which sat intricate lamps that gave a soft luminous glow to the room. Those present, with the exception of one man, prostrated themselves as the Sultan climbed a platform four steps high and reclined upon a couch encrusted in jewels with legs of gold. Looking down at the one figure standing, the Sultan clapped his hands sending the servants scurrying to bring out food and entertainment. The man advanced, slowly rising up the stairs and taking his place on a beautiful but less ornate couch to the Sultan's right.

Jugglers stumbled in from the side of the room and began an elaborate routine, which the Sultan seemed to enjoy immensely. The man on the couch finally cleared his throat to get the Sultan's attention.

"What is it, my dear king?"

Jeftus frowned at the juggler's antics, "I did not come all this way, Sultan, to watch fools catch things like drunken seals. I want to discuss our mutual enemy..."

The Sultan laughed, "You are always so angry, my friend, always. And you are wrong, we do not have a mutual enemy, I have no enemies. The King of Zambelia is not your enemy if he would grant you peace for something as worthless as a woman. He might be a fool, but not an enemy..."

"I have heard rumors that he has rejected my sister..."

"As well he might," laughed the Sultan, "old, barren and with no dowry? I would have had her drown if we had not been friends..."

"It is an insult to me..." started Jeftus.

"But you are not sure it has even happened," responded the Sultan. Clapping his hands, he called out to the assembly, "Leave us, now, all of you."

The performers and servants instantly scattered as the Sultan took a seat at the end of his couch to be as close as possible to Jeftus.

"Let us speak frankly, my friend. You hate Zambelia, why I do not know and do not care. You hate them so much, you wish for me to commit myself to war for an insult that you yourself provoked. Finally, you are not even sure the insult has taken place! In your eagerness to fight, you have forgotten to wait for the very insult you seek. No, my friend, no, I will not finance a fight this way. We must see what happens, if the King of Zambelia honors his commitment, there is nothing to fight over, if he does not, then we will talk, but not before."

"He has taken over half of my country," snapped Jeftus.

"And whose fault is that?" asked the Sultan reproachfully. "Did I not tell you that your generals were incompetent? You also will not admit that your men were outfought, no, no, do not protest my friend, do not. The men from Zambelia are known as fighters, warriors, your people, well..." he let the thought die.

"I want a guarantee of your support and assistance if the king insults me through his actions towards my sister," stated Jeftus.

"A man must insult a man as a man," stated the Sultan, pleased with the quality and poetry of his logic. "What is your people's fascination with women? They are here to serve and to make sons. Beyond that they are nothing but attractive ornaments or trouble, more often than not trouble. How much more territory must you lose? And to lose it because of a woman..."

"My sister is of royal blood," stated Jeftus.

"The worst of the lot," countered the Sultan. "Women who think they are entitled to respect because they're fathers were royal, what nonsense. If I had a daughter I would drown her rather than see her think herself a princess because she was the fruit of my loins. Now, look at me, I will tell you this." The Sultan spread his arms, "If he were to insult you, personally, I would not stand idly by for the insult, certainly not, but I am not eager for war, none of us are. We have seen Zambelia conquer under Joseph the Great, I do not believe they wish to expand, but if you keep giving them the opportunity, you know they will. My advice to you, my friend, is to stop fighting, Perhaps in time, we can negotiate to get some of your land back, who knows, who knows."

After a hearty slap on the back, the Sultan turned to clap his hands. The entertainers and servants returned bringing an increased noise level that ended any chance of conversation. Jeftus sat seething as the festivities took the Sultan's attention away. Influence on events would be needed, thankfully that would not be a problem.

***

The cave entrance to the lair of the Dragon King could easily fit ten men marching abreast. The floor, smooth as glass, sloped gently downwards and away, swirling in a long arc through the heart of the mountain. Light filtered down through small holes made in the walls and ceilings, illuminating the passageway by reflected off of the swirling patterns created by mineral deposits that rested just below the highly polished surface.

Alex made his way alone down the long passageway. He had only met the Dragon King once before, when his father had introduced them about three years ago. To know that something so large existed had been awe inspiring. The King was at least four times the size of the creature that Alex had killed. He remembered that on his last visit the Dragon King had been friendly, but the experience had been frightening. Alex forced himself to keep a serene countenance but he shook inside at the thought of the coming interview.

The deeper he descended, the louder became the sound of the dragon's heavy breathing. As he came closer to the audience chamber, he began to note jewels, gold, silver and other priceless items spilled out near the walls of the passageway, the piles growing denser and expanding until they covered the floor completely. As the depth of the pile grew, it became more difficult to walk until Alex found he was forcing himself forward only with great determination, sinking knee deep in treasure with every step.

He paused, staring up at the ceiling of the Dragon King's audience chamber. The massive room was filled with treasure that seemed to pour from the walls. The dragon's hoard stood two meters deep at the center of the enormous chamber, the ceiling suddenly rushing skyward revealing an opening exposed to the elements. Alex felt as if he were peering at the sky from the bottom of a volcano.

Moving forward, he was surprised by a low, grating voice that filled the chamber suddenly, "You may stop your struggles my young friend."

Alex immediately stopped, casting his glance around, unable to see anyone or anything save for the massive hoard of valuables.

"I received your majesty's summons and came as quickly as I was able," he called out, still searching for his host.

Suddenly, across the floor from where he stood, Alex saw a large mound of treasure beginning to rumble and rise up. The form of an enormous dragon emerged, its long neck whipping its gigantic head towards the chamber ceiling, its wings unfolding and blocking the view of the ceiling and the sky.

Alex stumbled backwards, struggling to regain his footing as he stared at the awesome spectacle. The creature was dark green and as big as a mountain, its massive legs the size of mature trees. As it rose, it continued to shake off gems and gold like a dog shaking water from its fur. The massive head reached its apex and then plummeted down towards Alex, enormous teeth gleaming, smoke curling skywards from its nostrils. The head leveled off, stopping a mere three meters from Alex. The large eyes, as big as a knight's shield, were a piercing black, the whites glowing, examining him curiously.

"An honor to see you once again," the Dragon King growled. It was evident to Alex that he was trying to speak softly, but he could feel each word vibrate through him as the King spoke. "I am sorry to summon you so soon before your wedding, sire, but we must speak."

"Yes, sire, we must," replied Alex loudly. "In what way may I serve your majesty?"

The Dragon King's eyes shone brightly, "I know it grieved you to have to kill one of my subjects and I appreciate that you sent your ambassador to report your intentions to me prior to your encounter."

"I would never wish to offend your majesty," replied Alex earnestly. "We have always enjoyed cordial relations, sire, and it is my intention to always maintain our friendship."

"It is my intention as well," replied the Dragon King. "It is in that spirit that I requested you to come to me. You see, I must tell you that what you killed was not one of my subjects. In fact, it was not even a dragon."

Alex cleared his throat, "Your majesty, there must be some sort of mistake. It was a dragon that I killed..."

"Oh, it had the shape and even the nature of a dragon," replied the King, his eyes narrowing behind a sudden puff of acrid smoke, "but it was not one of my subjects and as all dragons are my subjects, I can safely say that you did not kill a dragon."

Alex shook his head, "How can that be?"

"What you killed my friend was an evil thing made to resemble one of my subjects. I have summoned the leaders of my minions, but there is not one who could lay claim to the body of the creature you killed. I then ordered my guards to bring the body to me which they did after your men buried it. I have examined it for myself. Again, I can say to you, it is not a dragon."

"Sire," replied Alex. "Is it possible one of your young was stolen..."

"It is not possible," replied the King. "There are ways that I can identify my subjects, ways that men do not possess. I can assure your majesty that that creature had none of the markings of my subjects. What you killed was not a dragon."

Alex took a moment to process the King's assertion. "You said, sire, that the creature was an evil thing made in the shape of a dragon. Excuse my ignorance, but I do not know what that means."

The massive head drew back slightly and more smoke emanated from the nostrils, "Certain practitioners of the dark craft have the power to give shape to ill designs in this manner. Those who practice evil magic can conjure up images, beings created from the dark forces they control. I am afraid that I have seen this type of thing before, sire. It is within my experience, but not within the memory of any man. My senses tell me that there is a force, an evil force, aligned against you."

"My subjects have brought me information of a disturbing nature. As a man, you cannot understand all that we see and understand, but I must tell you this in the spirit of friendship. An evil force has found a home in the land of your foe and is growing stronger. It has infected the king of that unhappy place as well as other members of your race."

"Your majesty," began Alex softly, "there are several people from that unhappy place who have arrived here for my wedding. How can I tell if they have been infected by this evil force?"

The Dragon King's massive head drew closer, "I have had reports on those who have arrived, sire. There are none in the group that your Majesty needs worry about, neither your intended bride nor her children."

"Thank you, sire," replied Alex. "You words help to put my mind at ease."

The Dragon King pulled his head towards the ceiling again and shifted his massive body backwards. "It would give me great pleasure if you would accept a gift from me in honor of your upcoming nuptials."

Twisting away from Alex, he reached with his massive claws towards something on a ledge high up along the chamber wall. Alex realized the great honor that the Dragon King had given him by turning his back to him, something a dragon would never do with a person they did not consider a friend. He began to relax as the massive form swung back around and lowered gently towards him, its massive front claws closed into fists the size of boulders. His claws came to rest before Alex and slowly opened to show Alex two very different items.

"I did not know what would be most agreeable to your Majesty, so I leave it to you to choose which you would prefer."

In the left claw, the Dragon King held a spectacular suit of armor. The helmet was made of solid gold and encrusted with precious stones. A sword of incredible workmanship and beauty lay next to the helmet. In his right claw the Dragon King held a beautiful ball gown of golden thread. A girdle of precious stones enclosed the waist and a pair of matching slippers with an exquisite lace veil. Alex did not hesitate.

"I thank your Majesty for your magnificent generosity. I am sure my bride will love your exquisite present."

The Dragon King nodded approvingly, "You will enjoy a happy marriage, sire. Always remember to place your wife first..."

***

Jonathan returned to the room and nodded to his mother. "Count Bartran states he has not heard anything regarding your message to his majesty, Mother. Would it be all right for me to wait here with you?"

"No, Jonathan, go and wait with your sister in the room next door, I won't be a moment."

Jonathan glanced at her and then quietly exited the small dressing room, leaving his mother alone.

Standing in the center of the small room, Marie checked her reflection in the three mirrors that stood before her. She could not help but smile as she admired her best blue velvet gown; it had always been her favorite. She had intended to wear it on her wedding day, but the excitement of past few days had made her decide to wear it now. It was not as elegant as the gowns the women here wore, but it always had made her feel special. Besides, who knew what the king's response to her message would be; any night might be her last night as the royal consort, she might as well enjoy it.

Leaving the room, she entered the suite where Annalisse and Jonathan sat waiting for her. Annalisse broke into a wide smile, "You look beautiful, Mama."

"You do," agreed Jonathan. "The people think so as well."

A knock at the door startled them before the door opened and the Count Bartran entered followed by his beautiful daughter. Lady Gertrude wore her flowing golden hair in an elaborate braid topped by a magnificent golden tiara. The young woman looked from Marie to Jonathan and Annalisse and then back to their mother with obvious excitement. She is in the prime of her life, thought Marie, with a lovely figure and a beautiful face. Count Bartran had introduced them the first night, but she had stayed in the background since that time.

"Your highness, may I again present my daughter, the Countess Gertrude Bartran."

The young woman curtsied low, never taking her eyes from Marie's face.

"Please rise," smiled Marie. "It is a pleasure once again to meet the daughter of his majesty's good friend and mine."

When Lady Gertrude rose, Marie was surprised to see tears in her eyes.

"Please excuse my tears, your highness," she said in a soft voice, wiping at her eyes with a lace handkerchief, "I am so excited and nervous..."

"Really," laughed Marie, genuinely surprised. "I cannot understand why, my dear countess. May I say that your father has a very beautiful daughter..."

Lady Gertrude beamed at the compliment, "Thank you, your highness. If you would allow me to say, Alex is to be congratulated on the beauty of his bride." Marie's surprised expression caused Gertrude to blush in embarrassment. "Forgive me, your highness, I did not mean to speak in such a familiar manner. I know his highness intimately and..." Gertrude's eyes went wide, "No, no, your highness, I meant..."

The count placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder, "I am sorry, your highness. My daughter tends to speak more than she needs to when she is nervous. She has known your fiancé since they were children. They grew up together; he is like her older brother..."

Marie raised an eyebrow, "Please, do not concern yourself, I understand."

Gertrude smiled, still embarrassed, "Thank you your majesty. My father tells me that you have no companions to assist you; I would be honored if you would allow me to place myself at your service."

"That is most kind," replied Marie.

"Might I escort your highness to the reception?" asked the count gallantly.

"Father, her majesty isn't finished dressing," scolded Gertrude softly. "Might I help your highness with your jewelry?"

"I am afraid that I do not have any jewelry to speak of," stated Marie firmly. "Currently the only jewelry I possess is a ring my deceased husband gave me that I no longer wear and the pearl earrings that I have worn since I have arrived which my mother gave me and that I will one day give to my daughter."

Gertrude smiled politely, "If your majesty will allow me, I have a sapphire necklace that would look beautiful with the gown you are wearing. With your permission, might I fetch it, it would be a great honor..."

"Go at once and get it," interrupted the count, "and the earrings as well."

Marie smiled, "I could not possibly..."

"Please your highness," begged Gertrude. "I will cherish them more than life itself if you will allow them to be part of your ensemble."

Marie looked at her children, unsure of what to say.

"Jewelry is the fashion, Mama," stated Annalisse softly.

Jonathan nodded, "You want to look your best, Mother."

Gertrude curtsied quickly and ran out of the room, returning moments later with a beautiful inlaid box. With a quick curtsey, she offered the box to Marie who opened it and gasped.

"My dear countess, these are magnificent..."

"It will go so perfectly with your dress, your highness," she stated enthusiastically as she lifted the necklace from its place and quickly positioned it on Marie's neck. Gently, she handed Marie the matching earrings in turn and stood back to admire the effect. "Oh your majesty, you are radiant."

"The effect is most enchanting your highness," agreed the count.

"You look lovely, Mama," agreed Annalisse.

"Might I escort you, milady?" asked the count, offering Marie his arm.

Marie smiled and threw Jonathan a knowing glance as she took the count's arm.

Stiffly, Jonathan presented himself to Gertrude and bowed. "It would be a great honor, Countess Bartran, if I might escort you to the reception."

Gertrude curtsied, "The honor, milord, will be mine."

"And what about me?" asked Annalisse indignantly. "Who will escort me?"

Laughing, the count extended his hand, "It would be my great privilege if you would do me the honor."

With an approving nod to her mother, Annalisse took the count's hand.

"Very well," she announced, "let's go!"
Chapter 10

"What do you think her preference will be?" asked Alex.

"Her preference would probably be to marry someone else," replied Ernest happily. He continued cheerfully in response to his brother's frown, "Still, given that she will not have the happiness of that option, I understand that women forgive the most when presented with a diamond."

"Forgive?" asked Alex, eyeing the trays arrayed before them. "Why should I be seeking forgiveness?"

"You are to be a husband," replied Ernest, fingering a strand of pearls. "You will be constantly required to ask for forgiveness."

"But I have done nothing..."

"What has what you do have to do with it?" Examining the trays a moment more, Ernest continued, "I say the diamonds, though the pearls remind me of the moonlight and it is by moonlight that marriage takes its most intimate turns."

Alex laughed and motioned for the jeweler to attend them, "Are you writing poetry again?'

"I speak from experience," replied Ernest haughtily. "If I sound poetic, it is a mere revelation of my soul."

Alex laughed as he examined a necklace of emeralds, "I can't help but wonder what she looks like..."

"The count says though older, she is still handsome," replied Ernest. "I doubt she is as lovely as a lass I knew in Avacom, a small town I visited in Dalderan..."

"When were you in Dalderan?"

"Not important, now do not interrupt me. What was her name...Petulia... no Patricia...no Patrice, yes, Patrice!' Ernest glowed, thinking of the memory. "Golden hair, wonderful warm, brown eyes, skin as silk and a truly monstrous bosom..."

The jeweler dropped the tray he was holding.

"And what did such a goddess want with you?" smiled Alex. "No doubt in disguise and we know your disguises tend towards the unpleasant, so how did you captivate such a beauty?"

"You speak from fear, brother," replied Ernest. "But hear the voice of experience. There are many handsome men; our father's sons are not amongst the group, but there are many none the less. Now remember this, women love beauty, but they crave consideration more. I merely showed her my consideration and suddenly my appearance mattered very little."

"Did you show her your consideration, sir, by purchasing an ornament for her?" asked the jeweler, holding a ruby brooch enticingly. "A bauble often exemplifies a man's consideration."

"Oh, you complicate matters," replied Ernest ruefully. "I merely offered her twice what the other fellow offered her for her night's services."

The jeweler dropped his tray again as Alex laughed. "So much for useful advice..."

"The advice was priceless," countered Ernest, "even if the woman was not."

"Do you suggest I offer my bride twice what others would pay? I think you have lost your mind..."

"Different women feel consideration by different means. You do not bait a wolf with cheese!"

"I plan on being an honorable husband..."

"By all means, be honorable. Be honorable and noble and whatever other high sounding words you wish to enunciate, but if you wish to be happy..." Ernest's voice trailed off.

"If I wish to be happy..." pursued Alex.

"Consider her first," snapped Ernest. "A beautiful bride is made ugly by unhappiness and an ugly bride is made beautiful by consideration. Look to those who are happily married! Look at Albert and Stasha; he considers her first in all things."

"Why are you so concerned?" asked Alex. "Do you think I will be a bad husband?"

Taking his brother's hands into his own, Ernest spoke very seriously, which he almost never did.

"You will be a wonderful husband; my concern is that you be a happy one. The two need not be exclusive of each other. I know you are nervous, she will be also. Do not ask for love immediately, that will come with time, but you and she can be happy until it arrives and when it does, you can be even happier."

Alex absorbed his brother's words quietly.

"I will listen, Ernest, to your kind and wise words, for with all my heart, I truly desire her to be happy."

"Good," smiled Ernest, his eyes regaining their mischief. "Good. Why not start off on the right foot then. Buy her a few of these baubles, perhaps all of them."

"Very well then," smiled Alex, "let us buy them all!"

They both laughed as the jeweler once again dropped the tray.

***

Jeftus sat in his study, wrapped in a dark fur cloak, his face twisted by a frown. "I have returned from my mission to the sultan and have just heard the report of two of my ten messengers. In each case the recipient of my message has refused to act upon my requests for assistance."

"As I said they would, your majesty," stated the dark figure, its robes sweeping the floor as it paced in the darkness in front of the desk. "You have acted against my advice sire and you see what it has gained for you? You must be patient..."

"Half my country has been conquered," snapped Jeftus. "If my people find life under a new king preferable, it will make the re-conquest more difficult."

"What do we care what fools prefer," hissed the dark figure. "The people be damned! Armies conquer lands, not the people who live there. Your armies will be triumphant once King Alex does what he must do. He will reject your sister, I am sure of it. Even now, your sister has sent him a message telling him that she does not wish to harm him, that she comes to him a pauper and it would be a disgrace for him to marry her. She is quite the little helper, quite the little helper."

"You are sure," spat Jeftus. "She has a bad habit of making even her misfortunes work against me. Take her marriage to Robert; it was supposed to be for my benefit, his wealth, his military skills and what benefit did I receive? Her husband could not contain her actions and spent most of his time whoring. She has made problems for me no matter where she has gone. You cannot count on Marie..." Lowering himself onto a chair, he gestured angrily, "How much longer must I wait until my redemption?"

The dark figured laughed, a harsh, croaking sound, "Redemption is a poor choice of words, sire, a poor choice of words..."

***

The bridal journey was beginning to take on epic proportions, with noble families and other revelers joining the parade of carriages in each village as it wound its way towards Wharton. Lady Marie, Jonathan and Annalisse had been fed and feted at every turn until they all thought that they might bust. Jonathan was well pleased to see his mother eat more, she had grown thinner than he had ever known her to be on the voyage to Zambelia and he worried about her strength.

Noble and wealthy families had sent gifts to Lady Marie for herself and the children, clothing, toys and even pets. Annalisse had learned to be more restrained when confronted with the constant flow of gifts, but still occasionally became overly exuberant. Jonathan was always polite and thankful, but could not hide his awkwardness when presented with some new gift. Marie accepted the gifts upon Count Bartran's recommendation, but continued to fear that the gifts were being given to her in the hopes that she would try to influence the king for some purpose. She continued to keep a list of all items she received and would give it to the king upon her arrival should he decide that they would meet.

As they drew closer to Wharton, Marie was becoming more nervous and anxious. She had heard nothing regarding her letter to her new husband and she feared the longer she went without a response the harder it would be to disentangle the king from her problems.

Another thought had been bothering Marie since the previous evening. Sitting in the coach with the children along a pleasant country road, she cast her thoughts back to the incident.

They had stayed the night in an enormous fortress called the Bolotia. The castle was one of the his majesty's personal properties and was run by a castle master named Sir Chester, a very tall, very large, very round knight with a head full of wild, unruly hair and a walrus mustache. Marie had found him entertaining and intelligent and a delightful companion and she noted that both of the children instantly took to him. His wife, Lady Frances, was thin and as quiet as her husband was boisterous, but she was as kind and as generous as her husband.

After dinner, Lady Marie had taken a walk in a small private garden that stood outside of the suite of rooms assigned to her and the children. Surrounded by beautiful roses, away from the crowds for the first time in days, Marie had relished her time in the tiny garden with the high stone walls. Last night, sitting on a stone bench near the little fountain at the center of the garden, peering through the dark at a sky full of stars hovering above her, she was surprised to hear a murmured conversation on the other side of the stone wall surrounding the garden. Marie was not one to listen in on a private conversation, but as she rose to move away, she heard a woman speak the name "Jonathan".

Moving quietly to the wall, she stood torn as whether to stay or to follow her first inclination and withdraw.

"He is such a well mannered young boy," stated a woman's voice, older and cultured. "I am sure that his Majesty will be well pleased with both of them."

"She is a lovely little girl," chuckled her companion, a younger woman with a giggly disposition. "She will steal his heart, you wait and see."

Marie smiled, she was justly proud of her children and ...

"What do you think of the bride to be?" asked the younger woman.

The pause seemed extremely long to Marie.

"She seems a lovely woman, kind, considerate and extremely intelligent," began the older woman, "but, well, what can I say..."

"What do you mean?" asked her companion. "I find her enchanting..."

"Oh yes, enchanting," agreed the older woman, "but, well, I don't mean to criticize, who am I to criticize honestly..."

"Oh, don't be modest," laughed her companion.

"Her age, my dear, my, my, my..." she tutted. "I had always thought that his majesty would marry Countess Bartran, I suppose we all did. I think even the common people just assumed..."

"She is lovely," stated the younger one. "She has the most exquisite skin and the face of an angel. She's so kind and generous, really to a fault..."

"Oh, a darling girl, beautiful, intelligent, loving, young... Not that there is anything wrong with the Lady Marie..."

"She is quite handsome for a woman her age," giggled the younger woman.

"I've heard that she can no longer have children," stated the older woman confidentially.

"Is that true?" asked the younger one.

"That is the rumor," drawled the older one. "Still, she is very handsome...So sad, really and it's a problem that will only grow with time. He is young and strong," the woman's voice dropped, "and virile..."

"Virile? What is virile?"

A long pause followed and then, "Perhaps it is best you don't know certain things yet, my pet. You will learn them soon enough, soon enough...."

Marie sat in silence as the coach continued its journey. Why had he not answered her letter? What could he think of her? Countess Bartran should be his bride, young, wealthy, beautiful, how could she possible compare with someone so much younger, so much better known to him, so much...Why had he not answered her letter?

### Chapter 11

Count Bartran's courier found the king in his study, unhappily discussing figures with his Lord Treasurer, the Duke of Elding. The king's unhappiness was caused not by poor financial reports but by his dislike of mathematics in general. Even a good administrator may have a weak spot and for Alex, accounting and ledgers were a mystery. As valiantly as he tried to understand and appreciate the art of finance, he found it incredibly boring. It was not a disregard for the importance of money, Alex was respectful of money, respectful of its uses certainly, but to track it like a river or survey it like a field was just impossible for his mind. Still, from diligent application, he was able to follow the duke's ideas and suggestions.

The courier's entrance, mud splattered and dripping wet caught their attention immediately. Even the duke, brilliant with figures but not a student of human nature, found something disturbing in the sight.

Bowing, the courier extended two sealed scrolls to the king, "My lord, Count Bartran, requests an immediate response your majesty. He has instructed me not to leave until I obtain a response, sire."

"If you will leave us, sir," said Alex softly to the duke, "I will summon you shortly. Please remain nearby."

Alex broke the seal and unraveled the first parchment. Reading it, his face grew more concerned. Muttering to himself, he looked up from the parchment at the messenger who stood before him, shivering and muddy. Glancing at the window, he acknowledged the rain pounding against the window.

"Parker!" called out Alex.

Parker appeared at the door of the study immediately, "You called, sire."

"Parker, could you take this fellow and see that he gets a hot bath and something to eat?"

"Of course, sire."

"Thank you, your majesty," said the shivering rider.

The two men bowed and withdrew as Alex stared at the parchment rereading Marie's letter and then the one Bartran had sent. Rising, he moved quickly down the hall to the room in which Albert conducted his business. Albert looked up from the documents he was examining.

"Yes, sire?"

"Albert could you please read these?" asked Alex, handing him the letter.

Albert took the letter from Alex with a suspicious glance and began to read Bartran's letter. Alex sat down, grim faced, looking out the window. Albert read Bartran's letter, saying nothing and then quickly read Marie's missive.

"Well?" asked Alex.

"I don't know what to say, sire," started Albert. "She was sent here a pauper? She asks to be a servant rather than to disgrace you? The good count has had to have clothes made... I've never read two such messages in all of my life; I have no idea what to say to you, sire...what advice to give." Taking a deep breath he pursed his lips and folded his hands before him. "Perhaps it would be best if we took each matter separately. Obviously, Jeftus is adhering to the letter of the agreement and in so doing hopes to provoke us into some breech. I believe our friend Bartran has handled the situation properly; he has protected both you and your future bride from scandal. The punishment for having insulted both you and your bride can be decided later. I would suggest we bide our time, since no one other than we know, no one need know."

"That is sound advice," responded Alex quietly, "but what of the lady's letter? I swear, Albert, it sounds to me as if being a servant in our kingdom were more attractive to her than to marry the king!"

Albert considered it. "I do not think you should read too much into the letter, sire. If I may, you are used to receiving reports and communiqués from military men and, well men in general. Women write more emotionally than men do, you are used to a more detached style of communication. Try to remember, sire, she has no friends here, no resources..."

"Perhaps you are right," replied Alex, rising and walking to the window and looking out on the dour day. "I am uneasy, Albert. She has been married before, has been a mother, I have no experience..." he looked at his old friend. "Albert, I don't want to force a woman to marry me. I know the treaty calls for the wedding, but what if she really does not want to marry me? What if we are crediting to emotion what is a deliberate attempt to free herself from the contract?"

"Sire, you are having doubts, is not the lady entitled to have those doubts as well?" Albert rose and moved slowly to the king's side, "She has come a long way to a place she does not know, without friends, support or resources to marry a man she does not know. Added to that, she has to be worried about her children's welfare. You will be her husband and their father; it is a large leap of faith even under the best of circumstances."

Alex nodded, clapping a large hand on his friend's shoulder. "You are correct, Albert, as always. I supposed I should respond but I'm not sure of what I should tell her."

"Reassure her," advised Albert. "Let her know that you are looking forward to her arrival. Mention the children. When she arrives, the two of you can speak of these matters, until then, try to look at the problems as she does, it will help you see her intention more clearly."

Alex nodded, "How did you become so wise?"

Albert smiled, "I've lived with Stasha for forty seven years, she has been generously educating me all of that time, whether I asked to be educated or not."

Alex raised a hand, a thought forming, "Stasha, of course. Who would know better what a woman required than another woman?" Turning to Albert he smiled, "Albert, I will need to borrow your wife for a few days."

"Borrow her?" asked Albert. "I do not like to loan her out, sire..."

"She will return before you know it," laughed Alex. "When she does, we will have a few answers."

***

A launch drew close to the side of the Talon and the crew threw down a rope ladder. A courier reached up and clutched the rope ladder, struggling to climb aboard the ship. Fighting nausea, he requested to speak with Captain Fontaine and looked longingly towards the port and stable land. Captain Fontaine appeared on deck and moved to greet the courier.

"I have a message from his majesty, captain. I must receive a reply to it immediately." The courier handed the captain a cylinder with a wax seal over its cap.

Fontaine was immediately on guard, they would be in port shortly, why not have the courier board them after they had docked? Opening the cylinder, he removed the message and stepping away several steps, he examined the parchment. The king had ordered him to turn over command of the Talon to his second and to join the courier aboard the launch. The king was demanding that he answer charges of treason for his spreading of a false story regarding the situation of his sister and her children. The captain took a deep breath, recognizing the parchment as a death sentence.

"You will wait here, I have some documents to gather and then we will return to port together."

Captain Fontaine called for his second, Mister Chandler, to follow him to his cabin. Chandler, a short, thickset man with a placid face rimmed by a thick beard, stood within the cabin door. Fontaine handed him the parchment as he began to gather his things in his sea bag.

"His majesty orders you to take command of the ship," stated Fontaine. "You will wait for the pilot to bring her into port and then bring the log to the port master and await further orders."

Chandler spoke, a husky whisper, "You know what this means, sir."

"Yes, Mister Chandler, I am aware of the implications of the order."

Chandler nodded, "Your actions, Captain Fontaine, not only served to preserve the lady's reputation, it allowed our country to hold its heads high amongst the nations. You did an honorable thing, sir."

'Thank you, Mister Chandler, but we have our orders." Fontaine saluted. "You have command, sir. I will be above shortly, if you'll excuse me." Chandler saluted and left the room.

Fontaine locked his door and quickly checked the log; no, nothing that would reflect poorly upon his crew or their actions there... He was determined to take the responsibility for this himself, no matter what, his crew had been blameless. Picking up his sea bag he moved quickly back to the deck where Mister Chandler stood with the junior officers.

Approaching them, the captain saluted, "Mister Chandler, you are in charge, sir."

"Thank you, Captain," replied Chandler. Turning to the two juniors he gestured towards the captain, "Arrest that man." The two juniors walked up to the captain and restrained his arms.

"What, sir, is the meaning of this?" bark Fontaine.

Chandler strode passed him towards the courier, "Turn the ship about!"

The crew jumped to action, climbing the rigging, setting sails, scrambling to obey.

"Battle stations!" bellowed Chandler.

The courier advanced towards him on wobbly legs, "What, sir, are you doing? This man is to come with me!"

Chandler's face reflected no emotion.

"Mister Tandor," he bellowed.

A huge man lumbered towards him and saluted, "Aye, sir."

"Mister Tandor," he continued, casually pointing to the courier. "Throw this man overboard."

Tandor nodded, "Aye, captain."

The courier quaked and cowered as Tandor reached for him. Grabbing him by the back of his neck and by the seat of his pants, Tandor picked him up and launched him over the ship's rail to the cheers of the crew.

The Talon swung around the launch and began picking up speed as it headed back out towards open sea.

"Mister Chandler, what are you about?" asked Captain Fontaine wildly.

Chandler sauntered back to the Captain, still being restrained by the two junior officers. "While you were packing, sir, I had a little discussion with the crew and to a man they agreed. Kings, well, they come and go, but truly good ships captains, well, they are a rarity, sir. Any man who doesn't know that doesn't deserve our allegiance and any man who works so hard to disgrace a woman doesn't deserve our respect. As I am in charge for the moment, I thought I might make that point plain." Leaning towards the Captain, his placid face showed a hint of a smile. "Since you were able to help a lady and the lady is becoming the wife of a king, perhaps she can put in a good word for us when we arrive at our new home port. Anyway you look at it, Captain; we're not going back to Vesek."

"Aye, Captain," stated one of the junior officers. "I'll follow you to the gates of hell, but I'll not see you die like a dog for the likes of Jeftus."

The crew roared their approval as Captain Fontaine smiled and then wept.

***

"A delegation," stated Jonathan quietly, pointing to a cloud of dust raised by several horsemen approaching from the direction in which the carriage was headed.

From their place in the carriage, Marie, Annalisse and Jonathan could see the Count Bartran spur his horse forward to meet the rider. Upon closer inspection, it appeared that there were only two horsemen.

"Not many for a delegation," mused Jonathan. Looking more closely, his face grew more serious, "I am wrong, they are not a delegation, they are messengers."

"How can you tell, Jonathan?" asked Annalisse.

"Look at their outfits," replied Jonathan patiently. "They are covered in far too much dust to have only ridden from the city to here. Also, look at their clothing. Everyone we have met so far has been dressed extravagantly these men who approach are dressed for speed and comfort."

"The carriage is slowing, Mama," Annalisse stated, concern growing in her voice. "Do you think they are bandits?"

She was surprised and then delighted by the sound of her mother's laughter. "Annalisse, what could they take from us? We do not own anything!"

Annalisse caught her mother's spirit and laughed. As the count approached, he was surprised to hear the coach filled with laughter. Climbing down from his horse, he knocked on the carriage door. The Lady Marie shifted herself towards the carriage window. Hesitating a moment, he admired the beauty of her smiling face.

"I beg your pardon for the delay, milady, a messenger has arrived from your bridegroom."

He saw her natural smile retreat behind an uneasy one, the one she seemed to reserve for the mention of her betrothed. The lady glanced nervously at her children and then took the document from the count.

Shrinking back into the confines of the carriage, she hesitated. These would be the first direct words to her from the man she might marry, or they might be the last words to her from the man she would never marry or perhaps never even meet. Why would he not just imprison her and her children for the insult her brother had given?

She hesitated a moment more, observing his seal, thrust into the wax with his ring as if in great haste...or anger...perhaps both. Opening the letter, she cleared her throat and focused on the first words.

**/To the Lady Marie,/** \- interesting, formal and non-committal...

**/I wish to welcome you to Zambelia and pray that you and your children have enjoyed a safe journey so far/** \- so far? So far, perhaps a poor choice words, please be a poor choice of words.../ **I have read your missive and I thank you for your candor/** \- she smiled to herself, candor? What choice did she have, in what way could she have saved herself from embarrassment? Focus, focus on the letter, / **Count Bartran has also communicated with me regarding your situation and his actions upon your behalf./** Closing her eyes she took a deep breath, / **I wish to address briefly, if I may, your understandable concerns. A lady of slim means, almost completely alone in a strange country/** he understood the situation very well, / **would naturally seek reassurances for herself as well as her children./** Thank you for agreeing with me. / **It must be unsettling, certainly, to not know what one can expect in a given circumstance it is, get on with it, and for a woman, with two children dependent upon her it must be more so./** If we do marry, the first thing I will do is request that he write more direct missives. / **It is these very points I wish to address./** Then do so! / **Madame/** \- madame, is that good or bad? / **may I state that I admire the directness of your inquiries/** \- admire is good, I think, / **and I believe that I too, should be direct in my response,/** \- you could have been direct in your response two paragraphs ago! / **I wish to welcome you and your children** ,/ - you did that, did you not? / **and pledge myself and my kingdom to your comfort and happiness/** ...Lady Marie blinked twice slowly, your comfort and happiness ... what? What does he mean? / **I realize that you are worried that the actions attributed to your brother will reflect poorly upon you, but please be assured that I understand that the circumstances surrounding your arrival here were in no way within your means to control/** ... she looked out the window a moment and then reread the sentence. He was taking her side in this? Lady Marie grew cautious, she had been mistreated by men all of her life, first by her father for being born a woman and then by her brother for being a woman and then after her marriage... / **I wish to dispel your uneasiness and assure you of my best intentions towards you and your children. I do not wish for you or for them to be caused any further embarrassment, so to this end, I have ordered the Count Bartran to redouble his efforts on your behalf. In regards to your request to become a servant,/** \- Marie held her breath and read more rapidly, / **I am afraid that you must become the servant of all by doing me the honor of becoming my bride./** Marie could not completely suppress her smile. She reread the line and then continued, / **I have taken the liberty of sending my dear friend and close advisor, the Lady Stasha Chancelor. She is, after yourself, the first lady of my kingdom. It was she who assisted my father in raising my brother Ernest and me after the death of my mother./** Will she spy on us and report back to him? Marie's caution returned, / **I pray not to concern you here with further details. I have asked Lady Stasha to discuss several other less immediate concerns with you**./ Shaking her head, she read his final words, / **Until we meet, Lady Marie, I pray for your happiness and the safe arrival of you and the children. Sincerely, Alex./** The ending puzzled her. Alex? She thought for sure he would have mentioned a title. What king signs so informally? Glancing out the window, she saw Count Bartran patiently waiting for her to finish.

"Does milady wish to reply?" he asked.

"No," she replied quietly. "Thank you, not at this time."

The count masked his surprise well, "With your permission then, your highness, we will continue our journey."

She gave him a nod before disappearing into the cushions of the coach bench.

Sensing her troubled thoughts, Jonathan ventured to speak "What did he say, mother?"

"His majesty sends us his best wishes," she replied, forcing a smile. "He does not want any of us to worry and he wants us to be happy and looks forward to meeting us."

"All of us, Mama?" asked Annalisse brightly.

Marie smiled and took her hand, "Yes, sweetheart, all of us."

"Did he ask about Jonathan and I?" asked Annalisse.

Marie gave her hand a squeeze, "He just wanted me to tell you that he hopes we arrive safely so that he can meet all of us." Peering out the window, she pointed to a beautiful field to their right, "Look at that meadow, my dear, is it grain or is it corn?"

Jonathan smiled recognizing that the subject had been closed. His mother would keep her own counsel.

"Corn, I believe, what do you think Annalisse?"

Annalisse studied seriously, "Oh corn, most definitely."

### Chapter 12

Jeftus eyed his graying manservant, Arnold, as he sulked about the empty chamber.

"Well?" he asked in disgust.

"It seems so empty, sire," he began.

"Commit it all to the flames," snapped Jeftus. "Burn out this room."

Arnold started, "But sire, there is nothing here to burn. There has been no disease here; these were your sister's rooms. Your niece and nephew played in these rooms, why would you burn..."

"Burn them," repeated Jeftus.

"Do you not even miss the children?"

Jeftus harrumphed his disapproval, "Let that mangy pup keep them now, I have borne the expense long enough."

Arnold nodded absently; there was no sense of discussing it further. "How shall I prepare the rooms after I burn them out, sire?"

"New furniture will arrive in a few days. We will be hosting a permanent guest from this time forth, see to it that the furniture is installed in these rooms."

Though he knew his masters aversion to sharing any information, Arnold could not contain his surprise, "A permanent guest, sire?"

The King moved towards the door as he spoke. "My mistake in the past was the lack of a long range plan," he snapped over his shoulder. "It is not a mistake I'll make again."

Arnold watched the door close behind him. He had been impossible ever since the Talon had mutinied. Such a large ship and despite their best efforts, the fleet had been unable to find it anywhere. Mournfully surveying the room, Arnold began to mentally prepare for the task ahead. They would need wood, a lot of wood to properly burn out the chamber...

***

Jonathan sat straight as a pin in the saddle. He noted that the count had given him a "soft" horse, strong but not quick, responsive and calm. The men rode quietly, enjoying the countryside and occasionally taking the opportunity to point out sights of interest to their young guest.

"Does your lordship see that distant hill, the one that appears purplish?"

Jonathan peered towards the top of a large mountain in the distance, "Yes, sir."

"That is where his majesty and his brother, the Lord Ernest, killed the dragon a short time ago. It is quite a distance from here, at least a three day ride."

"Closer to four days I would think," stated another of the men.

"His majesty must be quite strong to throw a sword through a dragon's heart," said Jonathan.

"Like a bull," replied one of the men. "His highness is extremely strong, amongst the strongest men I have ever seen."

"You are a fine horseman, milord," commented the count.

"Thank you, sir," replied Jonathan. "My father required that I be the best rider I could be."

"Perhaps you could give his majesty a few pointers," chuckled a fat, bewhiskered older gentleman on a grey horse.

"I was told that he rides a large horse, similar to a field horse," stated Joseph quietly.

"Not similar to a field horse," corrected a young dandy with an expensive sword and fur trimmed cape, "but an actual work horse."

"A huge beast," concurred the older man. "Blind as well."

"Blind?" The thought of it seemed to disturb Jonathan. "Was it born that way?"

"Blinded in battle," explained the dandy. "The prince, he was a prince at the time, the prince suffered the loss of his mount in the thick of battle and climbed aboard the nearest available animal. It was not until after the battle that he realized what the poor animal had suffered."

"My father would have had the horse put down," stated Jonathan softly.

"Most men would have, but not our king," barked the fat man, "would not hear of it! Spent weeks caring for it himself, spent several nights in the barn to see that it was all right. I have seen them in battle together, it is as if they are one being, still I think it odd..."

"It sounds as if he values his friends," smiled the count, "don't you think so, milord?"

Jonathan nodded to the count as the dandy spoke, "Very distracting. In parade, I mean, surrounded by exquisite mounts and a blind mountain in the middle."

The others laughed.

"My father would have killed the poor animal," repeated Jonathan quietly, lost in thought.

***

The Lady Marie paced the audience chamber as she awaited the private meeting with the Lady Stasha. They were at some place called Roxton Hall, another massive castle owned by the king. The entourage that had been following them for the past several days were walking the massive gardens, Jonathan had gone out for a ride with the count and Annalisse was in the garden admiring a fountain containing all sorts of fish.

Marie's mind envisioned a cold, calculating, self important dowager, thin, regal and intimidating. "First lady of my kingdom" Alex had called her and undoubtedly she would not wish to yield that title to anyone else, certainly not a "consort". This was a new experience for Lady Marie, in her brother's court women were treated as an after thought, their influence nonexistent. Still, she had seen a discretely placed pretty face change her father's mind on minor matters... No, it was nothing like this. She was not prepared, how should she act?

Lady Gertrude moved quietly into the room and cleared her throat, gaining Marie's attention. Marie nodded, feeling a wave of panic.

Lady Gertrude announced softly, "The Lady Stasha Chancelor."

With a slight bow, she withdrew and was replaced by a very lovely, slightly chubby older woman in a modest cream colored gown.

To her surprise, the lady bowed from the waist like a man and stated, "Your highness," in a happy voice as she straightened up. Marie stared at her, unsure of what to say or think. Was this motherly looking woman her adversary? Looks can be deceiving, she cautioned herself and don't forget about the children...

Lady Stasha misunderstood Marie's silence and gave her a beautiful smile and small chuckle, "Excuse me for not curtseying, but my knees play the devil with me. If I curtsied, we could not be alone to talk because you would need three or four people to help pick me up again."

The Lady Marie smiled primly, "I am sorry, Lady Chancelor, you are not what I expected. Won't you please sit down?"

Stasha sat down heavily on the proffered chair and then looked at Lady Marie, studying her in a friendly manner.

"You sure are going to make a beautiful bride," she smiled. "Please, call me Stasha, your highness. No one calls me Lady Chancelor, especially your husband to be or his brother, but more about that later. I suppose you are wondering why Alex, I mean the King, sent me here."

"Do you call him Alex?" Did everyone call him Alex? She could not imagine such informality. Should she refer to him as Alex?

"In private, I do," confessed Stasha. "I hope you do not mind. I would never call him that in public, but in private he is like my own son, so I do call him Alex. What about you, what should I call you?"

Marie hesitated, "Well, it would seem silly for you to call me your highness and him Alex. Let us try Marie."

"Wonderful, but in private only, like I said, you call me Stasha anytime, he calls me Stasha in public too. Anyway, he, whatever you want to call him, sent me here to take care of you."

"Take care of me?" she asked, troubled by what that could mean.

To her surprised, Stasha shrugged a remarkably open gesture that surprised Marie so that she laughed.

Stasha chuckled too as she spoke, "Men, you give birth and raise children, run the household, deal with the doctor, merchants and baker, sew clothes, dry tears and get up again and do it tomorrow and they think you can not function without assistance." She laughed harder. "I think he was just afraid of leaving you alone with all of the men. They're good warriors and gallant fellows, but some of them lack the social graces. I hope you don't mind, but the King asked me to send Lady Gertrude on ahead to be used as a model for the dress makers, I can see that you two are about the same size. I told her to go, that I would attend to you until we arrive or she can get back. She was disappointed to go, you've made quite an impression on her, but he thought it would be nice to get a head start on your wardrobe..."

"I'll miss her; she's very sweet and has been extremely helpful. Annalisse adores her and besides I have several new dresses already," replied Marie. "Count Bartran has been most generous..."

"I am sure he has, but you will need many more gowns and Alex wanted them started before you arrive. There will be many parties to attend and not a lot of time for you to be fitted." Stasha beckoned her closer. "I cannot wait until he sees you; you two will make a lovely couple. Oh, regarding the children, he was hoping that I might find out more about them."

"More about the children?" asked Marie, somewhat defensively.

Stasha sensed her uneasiness, "Of course, we all know a little bit about you from Count Bartran, but we know nothing about the children. Does your son like horses or reading or sport? Does your daughter like music or painting? Did you educate them or are they used to having tutors..."

"My son was taken away from me when he was five to be educated by my husband's family," replied Marie coldly. "I did not see him again until we left to come here. My daughter has been raised by me; I have been responsible for her education. Neither my brother nor my husband placed importance on a girl being educated..."

Stasha tried hard to gauge the soreness of the point she had hit. Nodding, she rose and looked Marie in the eye.

"May I tell you something? When Alex was your son's age, his father sent him away for two years to be schooled in warfare. The school he went to was a fine place, run by a well known and respectable teacher, but the king and I argued bitterly about it, but he was king and you do not win with Kings, unless you're married to them. Alex hated it, but he did what his father said to do, he had no choice and neither did I. I respected his father, but I never forgave him those two years."

"At least he had his brother with him," replied Marie.

Stasha shook her head, "No, Ernest was kept at home. They are the same age, but the king felt Ernest was too wild to be placed in anyone else's care. Alex was quite alone..."

"Like my son," said Marie softly. "Jonathan hated it, hates it still. Oh, he puts on a brave face, he does it because it is what is expected of him, but he hates being apart from me and his sister. He worries about us, feels he needs to try and protect us..." She shook her head and looked away.

"I don't think Alex would ever do to your son what was done to him, unless, of course, you felt it was in your children's best interest."

Marie's features softened. Stasha directed her back to the bench she had been sitting on and she joined her on the seat.

"I know all of this must be difficult on you, but please try to see it from his point of view. The closest thing he has to a child is his brother Ernest, he knows nothing about them and now he is to become a father to two. He is willing to try to be a good father, Marie, but you need to point him in the right direction."

Lady Marie sat back and said skeptically, "He is asking my advice?"

Stasha looked at her, not comprehending the source of her skepticism. "Of course, who else should he ask? You're their mother, who knows what it best for them better than you do?"

Lady Marie shook her head, unbelieving, "When does a man ever want to know what a woman thinks?"

"I cannot speak for other men," stated Stasha, "but this one does. Since on the whole, they do not admit their ignorance readily, I suggest that you take advantage of it. He wants to do the right thing, but he isn't sure what it is. Like you, he's feeling his way. He's a new king on top of being a new husband and a new father; he needs all the help he can get."

Marie stood and faced her and in a quiet voice began, "If I said I want my children educated by tutors at home and that I wanted them to travel with us when we must travel and be about constantly and that I never again want to be separated from my children, what would your Alex say?"

Stasha smiled, "I think he would go along with what you want. Can I say for certain? No, I don't live inside his head, but I think he would do what you ask."

***

The council chamber was a beautiful stone room covered in rich tapestries with tall, thin windows that peered out over the massive gardens at Wharton. Alex sat at the head of the table, Ernest to his right, Albert to his left, his generals and the council arrayed about the large oval table.

"Ernest, I think this is a job for you," stated Alex quietly. "You've all heard the report of my meeting with the Dragon King, there is an evil force opposing us. We need information to protect our troops and to direct our future actions against Jeftus. Do you think you can get into his castle undetected?"

Ernest shrugged, "It would be difficult. I am well known and being a naturally attractive man, I would have to work a magic of disguise to keep the women of that place from exposing me by showing me too much attention. Then I would have to discover what I am looking for, obtain the information we need and then escape in a daring and unnecessarily dangerous way. All in all, you are asking for quite a bit."

The men at the table stared at him a long moment before returning their attention to the King.

"You will leave the day after the wedding," stated Alex. "I will count on all of you gentlemen to maintain secrecy on this matter and to keep your troops at the ready." Rising, he smiled, "Thank you, gentlemen."

The generals rose and bowed to Alex before filing out. Ernest waited until the men had left until he spoke.

"Alex, I think that we must adopt a policy of how to deal with your wife as concerns her brother," he stated thoughtfully. "She will be a lightning rod for those seeking someone to blame if Jeftus' actions provide problems."

Albert nodded in agreement, "We must be careful of how we proceed. I hate to say it, but there are those who will question the lady's trustworthiness..."

"Albert," said Alex quietly, "I understand your sentiment, but if this marriage is to work, I must trust Marie. Admittedly, it might be a blind and ill conceived notion to do so, but, I have too. Would your marriage to Stasha have worked if you had not trusted her implicitly?"

"You are right, milord," stated Albert softly. "I meant no disrespect for your bride but the situation is unsettling."

Alex nodded. "If you gentlemen will excuse me, I have some thinking to do. I'll be in my study." Alex patted Albert on the shoulder and left the two men alone.

Ernest turned towards Albert and smiled, "He will be a good husband, but we must make sure that he is a protected king. We will not know what motivates the lady until she arrives, so let us be cautious, but not disrespectful."

Albert smiled, "There are times I don't believe you are mad at all."

Ernest laughed, "Remember that, I might need the sentiment heard sometime in the future!"

### Chapter 13

Alex squires stood at attention outside of the door of the king's apartment, each one anxiously awaiting an order or a summons or the command to form company and escort the king to the courtyard below. Inside Albert and Ernest worked to arrange the king in his new clothes and to prepare him to meet his bride.

"I think I am going to vomit," announced Alex to no one in particular.

"Don't even joke about it, sire," state Albert, as he forcefully brushed the new surcoat Alex wore. He was almost as nervous as the king, anxiously awaiting the return of his beloved Stasha.

"Do not vomit on those shoes," instructed Ernest, feeling quite handsome in his own new attire, "The leather is very soft and they will stink forever if you get vomit on them."

"What will I say to her?" asked Alex. "She is expecting a regal welcome, a dashing husband..."

"Forget dashing," implored Albert, struggling with Alex' tunic, "strive for neat. Women love when you are neat."

"I am marrying the woman tomorrow; I want to make a good first impression."

"Greet her with the jewelry then," advised Ernest. "It is not subtle, but you can forget about dashing anyway..."

"What if the children do not like me?"

"Then get rid of them now, when you get old and feeble it will be too late."

The two brothers turned to look at Albert who doubled over in laughter, "Oh come now; that was funny!"

A roar from the crowd went up and all three men peered towards the window.

A knock at the door was followed by the captain of the guard entering the room and bowing lowly, "They have entered the main gate, sire."

"I assumed so from the cheering," replied Alex. "Albert, a word..."

The two walked through the curtain and spoke quietly to one another.

"Is my chamber ready?"

"Yes, sire, all is prepared. You will sleep in the western tower tonight. I did my best to make your chamber as comfortable as possible, though I doubt you'll sleep much. Stasha will finish the arrangements here when she arrives, I'm sure the lady will be pleased."

"Please, dear friend, I will be distracted, so keep an eye out for problems, I want no disasters."

"We will all do our best, sire."

"I am so nervous, Albert; God I wish my father were here..."

"Anyone would be nervous, sire and we all miss your father. It would be wrong if you were not nervous but please remember; everything that can be done has been done and will be done." Albert looked at him and then suddenly hugged him, "Your father would be proud of you, Alex. God bless you both."

"Thank you, my dear friend," replied Alex. "Thank you very much. I hope so."

Alex straightened up and marched out from behind the curtain.

"Gentlemen, I believe we should go and await our guests at our assigned places. If we continue to wait here, I might go mad, so lead on."

Stepping into the hall, Ernest barked to those assembled, "Form company..."

Returning he took up his position opposite Albert on either side of Alex. As the door opened, the company of squires marched down the broad staircase followed by the King and his two best friends following behind them.

"You will be fine," stated Ernest quietly as they marched. "If the woman displeases you or is unpleasant to look at, we will state that the dragon has returned and go forth to become mercenaries."

"Many men embrace a battle field to avoid a wife," Albert agreed.

"Please, no more happy thoughts of killing if you please," begged Alex.

***

"I think I might become ill," stated Lady Marie.

"Is that what love does to you, Mama?" asked Annalisse, shouting over the cheering crowd as the carriage wound its way through the city streets.

"It is not love," explained Jonathan, "Mama is nervous."

Annalisse smiled, unsure of what her older brother had said. The crowd was cheering so loudly now that none of those in the carriage could be sure of what anyone else was saying.

Lady Marie sat between Jonathan and Annalisse on the back seat of the open carriage facing the front while Stasha and Count Bartran sat opposite them facing the back. Mounted cavalry flanked the carriage while foot soldiers toiled mightily to keep the crowds out of the road.

Stasha kept a concerned eye on Lady Marie. Leaning towards the Count Bartran she shouted, "I think she is going to be sick."

"Yes, the crowds are very thick," responded the count. "Well behaved, however."

"I hope she does not get sick on the children," yelled Stasha, not having heard the count's reply.

"Yes, there will be a children's choir," he responded.

The sound of the crowd continued to escalate until it was impossible to be heard at all. In addition to the cheering, bouquets of flowers began to flood the carriage until all inside were covered in a blanket of flowers.

"It is a good thing that you like flowers, Mama," laughed Annalisse.

Her mother nodded, having no idea of what she had said. In addition to her nervous nausea, she now began to suffer from a headache brought on by the incessant noise. Glancing at Stasha, she offered her a weak smile. Despite her initial reservations, she had come to believe that Stasha was more concerned grandmother than spy. She had come to like Stasha even if she was not sure if she should trust her; besides the children adored her. She smiled more strongly, it was nice to have a friend and she would need one now more than ever.

Suddenly the lane they were traveling in opened up, expanding unexpectedly into a massive square jammed with people. Soldiers flanked either side of the carriage now in two ranks and Lady Marie caught her first glimpse of her massive new home.

"It is enormous," bellowed Jonathan. "Look at the walls; they must be at least twelve feet thick!"

"Albert!" yelled Stasha, half rising in her place, "I see Albert. See, he's standing by the king!"

Lady Marie could not hear what Stasha had said but turned in the direction she was pointing towards. A large platform stood in front of the entrance gate to the castle divided into three tiers. Her eye was drawn to the top tier upon which stood three men; the one on the left was older and of medium build with a head of thick wavy gray hair and a happy expression as he smiled at the coach. The man on the right was stout with a childlike face, clean shaven, chubby with a brilliant smile. Finally, she looked at the man in the middle. He was tall with enormous shoulders; she could not remember ever having seen a more powerful looking man. His hair was dark brown and parted in the middle and he wore a close cropped beard of the same color. He peered at the carriage with a scowl and upon spotting Marie nodded and offered a brief smile. It was obvious to Marie that he had taken pains with his appearance, but she could only think that he looked more like a warrior than any king she had ever known.

As the carriage drew closer, she continued studying his face, it appeared open and honest, not handsome perhaps, but possessing a quiet dignity. A terrifying thought attacked her for the briefest of moments, what if that giant struck her? He would kill her; she had no doubt she would die from a single blow. She looked at the children, trying to conceal her sudden panic, dear God...

She offered him a small smile and somehow realized that his scowl was his attempt to hide his nervousness. Suddenly, she was positive that he felt every bit as anxious as she felt. She relaxed slightly, strengthened by the realization that he was scared too. If nothing else, he had, for the moment, her sympathy. They had the grounds for understanding one another at least...

As the carriage drew closer, Albert could contain his excitement no longer, "There she is; there is my Stasha!"

Ernest remained quiet, happily scanning the crowd and making mental notes of all that should be done. He occasionally checked on Alex, hopeful he would not have to pick him up if he should faint. Oh yes, he was scowling, he only scowled when he was terrified. In truth, he had only seen Alex scowl a few times in his entire life, the last time being when he stepped out of the cave to have his conversation with the dragon. Still, if he were terrified, he might faint, a most inconsiderate thing to do in Ernest's opinion. The plain fact was that his brother was much too big to pick up. If he did faint, Ernest decided reasonably, he would supervise others on how to pick him up rather than actually try to help pick him up himself. After all, someone would have to greet the bride and he would be the logical choice.

Alex clenched his jaw, feeling as is his limbs had turned to water. He was desperately trying to calm himself but feeling more thunder struck with each passing moment. He could see her now, the Lady Marie wearing an ivory colored gown accented in gold, her auburn hair flowing loosely to below her shoulder blades. He found it hard to believe that she was older; if it showed at all it was in her bearing, not in her face or form. She was a true natural beauty and when he saw her small smile, he felt as if they were somehow conspiring despite the enormous crowds that surrounded them. He caught himself relaxing slightly; it wasn't so hard to breathe now. She was nervous too, he could tell it, but it was as if they were sharing some sort of secret.

The carriage drew even with the carpet at the base of the platform and halted. The door of the carriage swung open and Count Bartran stepped down, turning to offer Stasha a hand down, followed by the children and then Lady Marie. Stasha took Annalisse by the hand and beckoned Jonathan to follow behind her while the Count took Marie's arm as her formal escort.

Stasha and Annalisse led the little band up the stairs to just below where Alex stood.

For a moment Alex stood frozen until Ernest elbowed him in ribs as a not so subtle reminder that everyone was waiting for him to do something. Raising his hands, he gestured for silence, which the crowd eventually granted.

Alex' voice, husky and alien to his own ears, filled the square, "Lady Marie, it is my great privilege to welcome you and your children to Zambelia. May you all enjoy many happy years here."

The crowd exploded into applause as Stasha brought Annalisse forward to be introduced to the king. Marie glanced back at the crowd, a bit surprised. THAT had been the welcome speech he had come up with? The letter, apparently, was no fluke. He husband to be was certainly no poet.

Standing before Alex, Annalisse curtsied as Marie had taught her and Alex reached down to assist her in rising. Standing she handed him a small bouquet of flowers she was holding.

"Thank you for your kindness to my mother," she stated with a giggle and then impulsively asked, "Is this where we will live?"

"Why yes," stammered Alex. "We have prepared a room for you; I hope you will like it."

Stasha took Annalisse by the hand and brought her to stand next to her and Albert, who slipped his arm about her waist and kissed her quickly on the cheek. Next, she nodded to Jonathan, who approached Alex and bowed.

"Please rise," said Alex. The two eyed each other, not quite certain of how to proceed. "I understand that you are a fine horseman."

"I try to be," stated Jonathan, unsure of what to say. With another bow, he joined his sister near Albert and Stasha feeling completely overwhelmed. Like the main participants, all he wanted to do was run and hide.

The crowd grew hushed as Count Bartran presented the Lady Marie to Alex. "May I present your bride, sire, the Lady Marie of Vesek."

Marie curtsied low, her eyes never leaving Alex' face.

Alex quickly offered her his hand. Hesitantly, Marie accepted, momentarily unsure if she might lose her own hand as his massive paw enveloped it. She was relieved at the carefully restrained power he exhibited as his hand closed on hers and drew her gently to his side. Up close to him, she peered into the most sincere eyes had ever seen. He was a good deal taller than Robert and much broader, but despite his size, he seemed to want to be gentle. She smiled at him, as if to encourage him and he nodded, unsure of what it was he was being asked to do.

Never taking his eyes from her, he gently directed her to her place beside him. Despite the assurances of those whom had met her, he was surprised at how beautiful she appeared. He was not sure exactly what he had expected, but she was more graceful and regal than he had imagined. She looked to him like a Queen and the thought made him uneasy. Did she not deserve a charming and graceful husband?

His voice was warm as he spoke his first private words to her, "I am very happy that you and the children are here at last. You are quite lovely."

If it had not been for his sincerity, she might have laughed. Her thoughts were overwhelmed by the memory of her first wedding, of the beautiful words that Robert had spoken to her and of the cruelty that they had hidden.

With a slight shake of her head, she replied, "I wish to express my sincere thanks to you sire, and to Count Bartran. It is through his efforts that my children and I are even presentable."

"Rest assured I will express my gratitude to the count privately in a short while. I hope that your trip has not over taxed you or the children. We took the liberty of planning some entertainment."

"Our journey has been lovely," responded Marie. "Whatever your majesty has planned, we thank you for sharing it with us."

Alex nodded and turned to Albert, giving him a slight hand gesture. Albert signaled for the entertainment to begin as Alex and Marie took their seats. First, a children's choir appeared and sang several folk songs. Following the children, a clownish fellow appeared and attempted to welcome Marie and the children but kept mixing up the words of his greeting. Next, a magician performed several amazing feats and finally, the cavalry officers performed an intricate display of horsemanship.

After the enthusiastic applause subsided, Alex took Marie's hand and led her from the platform into the main hall with the entire court following behind. The hall glittered with light and was decorated with enormous flower displays. At the end of the hall they mounted a low dais on which sat four chairs. Alex led Marie to one of the chairs and then surprised her by turning and bringing Jonathan and Annalisse to sit with them. Albert joined them on the platform and introduced the nobles of the kingdom to the bride to be. During the entire ceremony, Marie noted that Albert was reluctant to leave Stasha's side for even an instant and took every opportunity to squeeze her hand or touch her arm. They seemed very happy indeed, she thought, how nice that must be...

Turning, she caught Alex trying to talk to Annalisse and Jonathan and put them at their ease. Not to her surprise, Annalisse seemed only too willing to answer his halting questions and tell him about their journey, her likes and dislikes and anything else that came to her mind. Jonathan was more reserved and seemed slightly unsure of how to answer his new stepfather's questions. The two seemed to be feeling each other out, like two wrestlers at the beginning of a match. To Marie's relief, Alex did not seem to try to dominate the conversation or to press Jonathan too hard for answers.

After meeting all of the nobles present, Alex escorted them to an enormous hall set for a banquet. At the banquet Lady Marie found herself seated across from Alex and next to the Lord Ernest.

Smiling at her future brother-in-law she remarked, "I have heard so much about your lordship."

"And yet you do not look frightened or appalled," he replied amiably. "You are already a good sister-in-law."

"May I ask where you disappeared to earlier," asked Marie, "I noticed you did not stay for the entertainment."

"I was on an errand for the king, milady. He rather depends upon me," Ernest announced with mock importance. "All of his most important missions he gives to me, you and your children being the exception."

"Perhaps we are not that important," ventured Marie.

"I think he feared the effect I have on ladies," replied Ernest. "They tend to throw themselves at me before realizing that I am beneath their dignity."

Caught unawares, Marie dissolved into laughter.

Alex glanced across the table to where his bride and brother sat.

"Are you behaving, Ernest?"

"I tried, sire, but your bride would be ill served by a lie," he responded.

"True, but I do not think she needs to know the whole truth about you all at once."

"The fact that she has met you and has not run away suggests a quiet strength," mused Ernest. "Still I will try not to overwhelm her."

"It is appreciated," replied Alex, above the laughter, "Remember, the lady still has time to change her mind."

Alex felt a tug at his sleeve. Turning he found Annalisse motioning him closer.

Bending towards him, she whispered in his ear, "I hope she does not change her mind."

Alex smiled at her and whispered back, "I hope she does not change her mind, too."

***

The Talon knifed through the water, the evening stars guiding the ship's progress. Captain Fontaine stood at the rail, his eyes set on the large moon that sparkling beams of light upon the waters. Dolphins raced along the bow of the ship, exploding from the water casting odd shadows on the sides of the ship. After the mutiny, the men had all fallen into line behind Fontaine and agreed that their best course of action was to take a round about way to one of the northern ports of Zambelia and to offer their services to the new king. Fontaine worried about how they would be received, but they had to have a home port and the idea of becoming pirates was repugnant to all of them.

Would the Lady Marie speak up for them, he wondered. King Alex was an unknown and with the war over, how he might respond with peace hanging in the balance was anyone's guess. Fontaine was worried and there was no sense in denying it. The men knew the risks, but they had decided that their best chance lay in placing themselves at the mercy of the new king and his new bride.

"Captain!"

Fontaine looked to the crow's nest, the lookout pointing towards a vessel off the starboard bow, a single masted vessel with an enormous rectangular sail. The captain peered out into the darkness; from the silhouette of the vessel he could see that it was part of the navy of the Sultan of Chanra. He was sure that the vessel could not catch them, but if it spotted them at this point there could be little doubt as to their destination.

"Helm, hard to port," he shouted. "All hands on deck!"

The men scrambled to their positions.

Mister Chandler strode up next to the captain, "Orders, sir?"

"We need to outrun them Chandler. We don't want them to identify us."

Chandler considered it, "We could turn on them, sir."

Fontaine nodded, "We've no right to spill blood, Chandler. Unless we're attacked, we don't fight."

"Aye, sir," Chandler replied. "You there, get some canvas up and be quick about it!"

Canvas unfurled and the Talon jumped forward, the sultan's ship growing smaller with each passing moment.

"Do you think they saw us?" asked Chandler.

"I pray they did not," replied Fontaine.

"CAPTAIN!"

Both Chandler and Fontaine glanced up at the crows nest before peering out into the moonlight towards the back of the ship where the wavering finger of the lookout pointed. In the moonlight they could see the ship they had outrun in the distance and something towering above it. A wave of massive stature hovered above the ship made more terrifying by the stillness of the sea around them. The wave stood above the ship but nowhere else; it did not extend out over the water in any other direction, just above the lone ship. At its apex the water began to gather into a ball. The men watched in terror as the ball of water formed into what looked like a fist and then thrust violently down upon the ship, shattering it like a pane of glass struck by a hammer.

"Hard about," yelled Fontaine. "Hard about!"

The Talon lurched harshly to its right and swung around in a tight arc. Gaining momentum, the ship skimmed forward quickly over the surface towards the wreckage of the other vessel.

"Lower the launches," commanded Chandler. Two launches cascaded smoothly down the side of the ship and men climbed quickly into them, anxious to try and help a fellow sailor. The first launch ran across several bodies before finding two survivors holding desperately to a small barrel. The second launch found some provisions that were salvageable and a few more survivors. Regaining the Talon, the launches brought the survivors along side and transported them aboard ship before going back to search for more. Fontaine and Chandler moved amongst the survivors assisting the ship's doctor with his duties. One man lay on the deck, more dead than alive. The doctor ordered him carried below and Fontaine followed them, leaving Chandler in charge of the rescue efforts. Placing the man in bed, the doctor worked over him for some time, setting his broken arm and broken ribs before returning to topside to check on the others.

The man regained consciousness and motioned for Fontaine to come closer. Fontaine lowered himself to the man.

"Where am I?" the man whispered.

"We saw your vessel attacked and turned to assist you," replied Fontaine. "Who are you?"

The man smiled ever so slightly, "I am the Sultan of Chanra."

### Chapter 14

The king concealed his nervousness fairly well judged Lady Marie as they exited the cathedral. In only one particular had he revealed his anxiousness, if one could call it that, for when the bishop had told him that he might kiss his new bride, he grasped her gently and then hesitated as if unsure of what to do. Pulling her gingerly towards him by the arm he held about her waist, he placed a kiss on her lips that was both chaste and appropriate.

Walking down the aisle, her hand in his arm, Marie was unable to think of anything but the comments of the woman on the other side of the wall regarding how much older she was than her new husband. She glanced behind her, seeing Lady Gertrude attending to the train of her gown, looking young and beautiful and happy. Was she really happy or was she just putting on a good face? Should not their places be reversed?

Looking up at Alex, she could not help but think, poor fellow, not only an old wife but two children as well and her brother did not even send a representative... She smiled at the last thought; it had pleased her immensely to enter on the Count Bartran's arm and to follow Annalisse as her flower girl. It warmed her heart to see her son stand as groomsman to the king. He was trying so hard and it had all been so beautiful, everything orchestrated so perfectly that for a moment, she could forget what she had heard and ignore the unknown that stood before them.

She noted that she felt none of the elation she had on her first wedding day, perhaps a hard bought wisdom against feeling the same disappointment. Disappointment was a generous term as fleeting reminders of betrayal, humiliation and pain flashed through her mind. The cheering of the crowd forced the thoughts from her mind and she forced herself to smile and wave.

Exiting the cathedral the crowd outside erupted into spontaneous applause and shouting as the bells of a hundred churches rang out. She felt Alex' arm protectively wrap around her and sweep her into their waiting carriage. To her surprise her groom ordered the coach to wait as he left her side to wade through the well wishers and pluck the children away from Stasha and Albert.

Annalisse and Jonathan had been scheduled to follow them in a waiting carriage, but the King deposited them in the bridal carriage and heaved himself into place next to his bride, only then ordering the driver onwards. The children were obviously delighted to be with their mother in her carriage as Alex took her hand.

"I hope you do not mind," he roared into her ear above the din. "Stasha indicated that you might prefer it if they stayed with us."

Marie smiled and she looked so beautiful in that moment that it caused his breath to catch in his throat, a fact that the noisy crowd concealed.

"It was most generous of you, sire," she responded. "Thank you for your thoughtfulness."

His next words seemed polite and careful, "I am sorry I did not say so earlier, forgive me, but I think you are the most beautiful bride I have ever seen."

Marie smiled at him, but said nothing. She had heard charming words before; all too often they concealed evil intentions.

For his part, Alex scanned his new family and thought, it is done and he hoped it was done well. He glanced back and saw Ernest aboard his new favorite mount, Eagle, a magnificent all black stallion. Ernest exchanged nods with his brother, he would leave tomorrow on his latest assignment but tonight was for fun and dancing and mischief.

Alex felt a tug at his arm and turning, found himself nose to nose with Marie. She was shouting something to him and pointing towards the entrance to the castle courtyard. He could not hear a word but followed her gesture towards the wall above the gate. An enormous roll of cloth was perched above the gate, held in place by rope.

"What is it?" shouted Marie.

Alex shrugged, unsure. As they rode beneath the gate the carriage slowed and two servants pulled the corner ropes holding the cloth. As the cloth unfurled a waterfall of roses cascaded down upon the occupants of the carriage. Annalisse laughed and grabbed her brother's arm as Jonathan stared in wonder at the falling flowers. Marie's grip tightened on Alex' arm as they rode beneath the cascading flowers. To his delight he heard his bride laugh. Glancing back, he saw Ernest smile, obviously pleased with himself. Having a mad brother definitely had its benefits.

***

The children retired at almost midnight, the king and his bride not until almost four o'clock in the morning. Marie entered their suite first and found Stasha and Lady Gertrude preparing the nuptial bed. Lady Gertrude helped her to unlace the wedding gown as Stasha helped her to remove the jewelry she had worn, placing it in a beautiful cabinet across from the foot of the bed. Alex had had the cabinet specially made for all of the jewelry that he had purchased for her, but Marie, distracted with removing the gown, did not see what Stasha had done with the jewelry. Stasha could not suppress a yawn as Lady Gertrude assisted Marie into her nightgown.

"You must be exhausted," said Marie sympathetically.

"You also," replied Stasha. "It's been a wonderful day, but it will be nice to see the back of my eyelids."

A knock on the door announced the king. The women could hear Albert and Ernest bidding him good night quietly at the door. Stasha and Lady Gertrude excused themselves and walked out through the curtain to the antechamber beyond. A moment later, Stasha reappeared and joined Marie at her vanity. Taking a brush, Stasha brushed out Marie's hair and arranged the bed.

At the door, Lady Gertrude ran to Alex and hugged him tightly. They were alone in the doorway, Albert and Ernest having left and Stasha and Marie hidden behind the curtain.

"Congratulations," she said softly as she stood on her tiptoes and granted him a kiss on the cheek. With tears in her eyes, she sped out the door and into the hallway.

"Do you need anything else?" Stasha asked Marie quietly, putting the brush down on top of the vanity.

Marie shook her head, a nervous smile on her face, "No, thank you Stasha for everything."

"I will see you in the morning," smiled Stasha, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead, "but not too early. I'm not young anymore you know!"

With a last wink, she moved out through the curtains. Sitting by the fire, Alex looked up, tired and nervous.

"Good night, Alex," smiled Stasha. Leaning over she kissed him on the forehead, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Stasha, thank you for everything." He watched her as she slipped out the door and then listened quietly for any sounds from beyond the curtain.

There was silence on both sides of the curtain for a time as options were weighed and ideas rejected. Finally, Lady Marie parted the curtain and joined Alex by the fire, tentatively taking the seat across from him. She smiled at him, how life had changed in five short months. From married woman to widow to royal consort, Robert dead, reunited with her children, practically expelled from her homeland and now...

"I want to thank you for a wonderful day, your majesty," she began.

"Please," he said quietly, "call me Alex. We are married after all."

"Yes," she replied thoughtfully, "yes we are."

"How do you feel?" he asked softly.

"Exhausted, si.., I mean, Alex."

He shook his head in agreement, "An exhausting day, but I hope you will look back upon it as a happy time." He slowed his words, choosing them carefully, "Would you object to me changing? I will only take a moment..."

Unconsciously Marie pulled the string that laced the front of her night shirt, "No, of course not. Please, go ahead."

Alex rose and as gingerly as he could strode toward the curtain and slipped behind it. She could hear the quiet rustling of cloth and the sound of boots being placed carefully on the floor. Slowly the curtain parted and Alex reemerged in a white gown which hung from his broad shoulders like a sail from a ship's mast.

"I'm finished," he announced, unsure of what to say.

Sitting back in the chair, exhaustion visible in her eyes, Marie smiled, "I suppose we should go to bed."

"I think it would be best," replied Alex. Extending his hand, he gently helped her to her feet and led her through the curtain. Stopping at the foot of the bed, they glanced at each other, suddenly shy.

"Do you have a preference?" he asked finally. She looked at him quizzically, unsure of what he meant. Pointing to the bed, he continued, "I meant to ask which side do you prefer to sleep on..."

"Oh," she replied, "I always seem to find myself on the right side, so I suppose that would be best, unless of course..."

"No, no, not at all, I have the happy fault of being able to sleep anywhere..."

"Good, very good... The right side then, I will take the right side."

Marie seemed to float effortlessly and slid beneath the covers without causing a ripple. Alex moved to the opposite side and slid awkwardly beneath the covers, coming to a halt, seated next to her. The gentle light of the fire sent soft shadows dancing on the ceiling and walls around the two figures in bed, both nervously sliding lower until they were lying next to one another. Looking up at the foot of the bed, he noticed the jewelry box, looking like a dresser against the wall.

"Did Stasha show you the gift?" he asked suddenly, gesturing towards it.

"The gift?" she asked, pleased to break the silence.

"Yes," he said, pointing towards the foot of the bed, "it is a wedding gift... for you."

Marie looked at the beautiful chest of draws that lay next to her vanity, at the delicate inlays and many draws. It would make a fine storage cabinet for her delicate clothing.

"Stasha did not tell me, it is beautiful, Alex, thank you very much."

"If you don't like it, I can have another made," he stated with a smile. "Anything you would like..."

"It is lovely," she replied, "no, I like it very much, thank you."

Silence again descended upon them. Marie watched the shadows dancing, glancing at him and catching him glancing at her. How to proceed...

Alex quietly broke the impasse.

"Marie, you sounded very tired just now and I know that it has been an exhausting day for me..."

"Very tiring," she agreed hastily.

"Well, I was thinking, perhaps it would be best just to sleep for what is left of the night and then tomorrow night we could, uh...well, we could address other issues."

"It is just that..." Marie struggled to find the right words, "Well, will not the servants wonder if the bed is merely... slept in?"

Alex considered the objection for a moment, "Perhaps... but then again, I doubt they will say anything. What can they say?" Slowly, carefully, he reached for her hand and taking it gently, he brought it to his lips. "Good night, Marie, sleep well."

Squeezing his hand, she smiled, "Good night, Alex, God keep you."

Marie felt a wave of exhaustion sweep over her once the decision to sleep had been made. Gingerly, she curled up on her left side, facing away from him and fell asleep. Alex heard her steady breathing and looked over to stare at her for a moment, the beauty of her face in repose. With a smile, he felt himself relax and was soon asleep.

***

Marie awoke, the room cloaked in darkness. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that her new husband was no longer in bed. An uneasiness swept over her as she rose, finding herself alone. Where was everyone? Peering into the darkness, she saw a door she had not noticed before and rising, she opened it into a dark and cold hallway. A chill ran through her and wrapping her arms around herself, she ventured out into the hall, unable to see much in front of her. Groping along the wall, she turned a corner and saw a man at the end of it. She moved towards him, relieved to see someone. As she reached him, he turned towards her.

"Robert!"

Robert sneered at her, his handsome face, dark and angry, his eyes filled with hatred.

"Royal Consort," he spat sarcastically. "Your highness... I know what you are, Marie, I know what you've always been!"

Marie turned to run, but he grabbed her by the hair, pulling her back to him. She cried out as he grabbed her by the throat and began to squeeze her neck. She could not breathe, could not pry his hands from her. Twisting, she struggled, desperate to call for help. He dragged her, still choking her to the top of a flight of stairs.

"No, Robert, no," she begged.

"Useless bitch," he growled, a heavy hand slapping her face. She began to fall, but he held her by the hair and slapped her again and again before finally releasing his grip. As she tumbled down the stairs she felt her ribs cracking, her legs twisting. She came to a sudden, painful stop at the bottom of the stairs.

Her right arm moved defensively to her belly as her she groped towards the wall, struggling to pull herself up with her other arm.

"The baby, oh God, you've killed the baby..." She began to sob.

"Marie..."

"The baby..."

"Marie..."

She blinked, trying to locate the voice. It was strong and gentle and filled with concern. Opening her eyes she found herself lying across a man's large, muscular chest, her left hand clasping the material of his night shirt.

The voice spoke to her again as she looked up to stare groggily into sympathetic eyes, "You were having a nightmare, my dear. It's all right." She stared into the eyes and the broad, sympathetic face and felt herself enveloped in a calm glow, "It's all right, Marie..."

Burrowing into the large chest, she felt a hand begin to gently stroke her hair.

As Marie fell back to sleep, Alex leaned down, gently kissing her forehead. He reveled in the silkiness of her hair, in the beauty of her face, in the warmth of her body. He gently touched the thin lines that formed in the corner of her mouth and touched her arm, feeling the softness of her skin. They did not know each other, but he found his heart beating faster and his mind racing. It was possible; he imagined that they might fall in love. Somehow, he could believe that it could happen

### Chapter 15

Marie awoke to the sounds of birds chattering outside of her window. It took her a moment to remember where she was and she turned instantly to see if Alex was there, but instead found herself alone. Gingerly she touched the spot where he had slept and taking a deep breath, stretched her arms above her head.

"Are you awake, milady?" asked Lady Stasha, rising slowly from a chair in the antechamber and moving swiftly through the curtains.

"Yes," replied Marie softly. "Do you know where the ki... I mean, my husband is?"

"If you're looking for your husband, he was up early this morning. He had breakfast with Annalisse and Jonathan and said when you were ready, if you were so inclined, you might join them in the garden. Can I get you something to eat?"

Marie smiled back, "I would love to take a bath first."

"Fine," smiled Stasha, entering the room and pushing the windows completely open. "I'll have a bath drawn and your breakfast waiting for you here when you're done."

Stepping back through the curtains, Marie was surprised to hear her step out into the hall and then return. "The bath chamber is next door, Marie. Whenever you're ready..."

"So quickly?" she asked, rising from the bed.

"My Albert created a bathing chamber right here in the castle where you can always get hot water," she said proudly. "I'll show you."

Stasha placed a robe around her shoulders and then led her out into the hall. A guard stood at attention as Marie followed Stasha, who shushed him away with her apron.

"Her highness wants a bath, not an audience. Go guard the stairway and see no one disturbs her!"

The guard bowed and moved away immediately. Moving to her left, Stasha brought Marie to a large wooden door which swung open to reveal a stone floor with a sunken pool filled with water.

"See those holes on the side of the tub?" asked Stasha, taking the robe and folding it. "Those bring in warm water; you can fill the tub in about a minute and have a nice bath."

"Tub?" laughed Marie. "It looks like a small pond."

Stasha smiled at her, "Not everyone is petite, you know."

Moving to Marie, she unlaced her nightgown and helped her pull it over her head. Marie turned shyly and slowly descended into the pool.

"The soap is on the ledge," chirped Stasha, "I'll be outside if you need me."

Marie watched her leave and then slowly reached for the cloth and soap that were on the ledge. The warm water felt wonderful and she stretched out in the tub, dipping below the surface and rising again. She stayed for a time just enjoying the water and the peacefulness. With regret, she rose and took the towel that sat folded near her robe. Drying herself, she wrapped her long hair in the towel and pulled her robe on.

"Stasha!"

Stasha entered and laughed, "Hate to get out of it, don't you..."

Marie nodded, "What a wonderful place."

Stasha pointed to a lever, "Don't forget to get rid of the water."

Marie stepped to the lever and pushed it, watching the water level drop quickly until the tub was empty. Marie turned to her, eyebrows raised.

"Don't ask me to explain it," stated Stasha. "That man of mine is always coming up with something. Come, breakfast is waiting and then you can dress."

Breakfast was warm bread and butter and fresh fruit and cake. Marie ate sparingly, a bit embarrassed by the servants who awaited her commands. She was happy to retreat behind the curtain with Stasha to dress for the day.

"I thought you might want to wear the brown gown today," smiled Stasha. "It shows off your hair and your complexion."

Marie nodded, "Thank you. It's one of my favorites."

Stasha worked quickly, chatting happily about the wedding as she straightened and laced the gown. Giving Marie a nod of approval, she led her to her dressing table. Stasha's expert hands arrange Marie's beautiful hair in a long braid highlighted with light colored ribbons. The two women smiled at the reflection in the mirror as Stasha moved to the cabinet.

"I think your pearls would go beautifully with this dress..."

Marie looked at her with a pleasant smile, "Stasha, I gave my pearls to Annalisse..."

Stasha frowned at her quizzically. "You gave them to Annalisse? I hope she didn't lose them, I saw her this morning and she didn't have them on..."

"It was just the earrings," smiled Marie. "I don't own any other pearls..."

"Of course you do," laughed Stasha. Opening one of the draws she looked in, "Here they are..."

To Marie's astonishment, she pulled an exquisite pearl necklace from the draw.

Unaware of Marie's surprise, Stasha continued, "Perhaps you're right, maybe pearls aren't the right accessory. Amber! Amber would go beautifully with your gown..."

"I don't own any amber," stated Marie, her confusion growing.

"Of course you do," replied Stasha opening another draw, "here they are..."

Marie jumped up and moved to Stasha's side, staring at the dresser. Opening a draw she could not contain her surprise.

"Stasha, this isn't mine. What is all this?"

Stasha stared at her in amazement, "It's your wedding gift from Alex, didn't he show it to you last night?"

Marie stared at her, "I thought he gave me the dresser! He pointed to it last night and said that it was my wedding gift..."

"This isn't a dresser," chuckled Stasha loudly, "it's a jewelry box."

Marie's eyes went wide with amazement, "A jewelry box?"

"Of course," laughed Stasha. "It's your jewelry box filled with jewelry; YOUR jewelry. The box is part of the gift, but didn't he tell you to open it?"

"He didn't say to open it," replied Marie, sinking back onto the seat before the vanity. "What is in it?"

Stasha began to remove the draws, showing Marie jewels and broaches, rings, necklaces and bracelets all made of precious and semi-precious stones. Marie stared opened mouth at the amount and variety of pieces.

"What did he do, buy all the jewelry in the kingdom?" She looked at Stasha, shaking her head, "He must think me the most wretched woman in the world..."

"Why would he think that?" asked Stasha. "He bought all this for you; I'd guess he must like you to do that..."

"I thought he gave me a dresser, Stasha, all I said was thank you for the dresser. I had no idea anything was in it, he must think me the most ungrateful woman who has ever lived." She stared a moment more at Stasha, her features displaying her anxiety, "What should I do?"

Stasha laughed, "Oh that's simple, go and tell him, he won't be angry. Come now, put on the amber set he gave you and then go to him and tell him you didn't know what this was, that's all. Both his brother and my Albert told him that it was too big, he should have given you a few different boxes instead of one big one, then you'd have known what they were... Don't be upset, if I know Alex, he'll laugh."

"Do you think so?" asked Marie as Stasha clasped a beautiful amber necklace around her neck and helped her with a pair of exquisite matching earrings.

"I'm sure, don't you worry. It's funny if you think about it," laughed Stasha. "It does look like a dresser."

Marie could barely contain herself as Stasha led her down towards the private garden. Courtiers bowed and smiled as the royal consort past, many whispering about how beautiful she looked but how troubled she seemed as well. At the garden door, Stasha moved to the side and let Marie pass.

"He left instructions that only you should go in," she whispered. "Go ahead; he's there with the children. Don't worry; I'll be here when you're done."

Marie found herself on a gravel path surrounded by tall hedges that held brilliant white flowers. Quickly she made her way down the path, seeking any sign of Alex or the children until the path forked. Stopping she listened and was barely able to hear a sound; it was a voice, small and sweet and at some distance. It sounded like Annalisse, though she could not be sure. Taking the path to the right, she followed the sound as the path opened up into a clearing. The clearing featured a beautiful, square lawn surrounded on all sides with flowers, a statue gracefully posed in each corner. Marie noted the beauty of it, but continued towards the sound of the voice. Yes, it was becoming stronger and clearer and now she could hear another sound. She hesitated, it sounded like laughter, like the children were laughing. On the opposite side of the clearing the path descended slightly and to the left, surrounded by tall trees whose branches interlaced above her head. She could see birds hopping casually about the branches, their beautiful plumage masked by the shadows and unmasked by the sunlight that trickled through the foliage. The path again opened onto a clearing, but this time, Marie stopped just inside the trees and watched.

Kneeling in the middle of the square of grass that formed the clearing was Alex, his hair filled with assorted flowers, his expression serious. In front of him stood Annalisse, gravely intoning the marriage vows in a wonderful imitation of the bishop who had performed the ceremony. On the grass to Marie's right, facing the two of them and laughing was Jonathan. She stared at him; it had been so long since she had heard Jonathan laugh, truly laugh. There could be no doubt, however, he was laughing and laughing with gusto as Annalisse continued the ceremony.

"And now, do YOOOOOUUUU," she boomed, "take this Laaaaadddyyyyy to beeeee your lawful, wedded bride?"

Alex cleared his throat and bowed slightly, "Indeed, I do!"

Annalisse frowned and in the bishop's voice scolded him, "You needn't say "innnndeeeed", milord...

Alex nodded, "My apologies; pray continue...."

Annalisse stared at the place where Marie would have stood, "And doooo YOOOOOUUUUUU take this maaaaannnnn to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Marie was going to respond but Annalisse jumped into the spot where she would have been and said, in a ridiculously high pitched voice, "Yes, I DOOOO!"

Jonathan, turning red from laughter, interrupted, "Mama doesn't sound like that!"

"All brides sound like that!" snapped Annalisse. "They're all giddy because they're getting married!" With a shake of her head, she resumed her spot as the bishop and cleared her throat, "Now, now, now, where were we? Oh yes! Do yoooouuu have the riiiing?"

Alex extended his hand, his fingers holding an imaginary ring. Annalisse was not impressed.

"That's the ring?" she asked for clarification.

"Yes," replied Alex, "don't you like it?"

Annalisse shook her head, muttering, "Glad it's not MY ring..."

Marie worked hard to suppress her laughter as Annalisse took the ring from the king's hand.

"Now I will place it ooooonnnnn her fingeeeer," she drawled.

"If you place it on her finger, you'll be marrying Mama, not the king," laughed Jonathan.

"It's my finger anyway," replied Annalisse reasonably, "and as you can see, it's not much of a ring..."

"I don't remember the bishop saying that yesterday," stated Alex.

"He would have if Jonathan had misbehaved like he's doing," replied Annalisse. "You can't bring boys to a wedding, they ruin it every time."

"So I've been told," stated Alex with just a hint of a smile.

"All right," stated Annalisse, "that was the ceremony. After that, came the procession. First all the nobles..." jumping in front of Alex she proceeded to stroll slowly and with great dignity towards the far end of the clearing, imitating several of the people she had seen yesterday. Finally, she came back and walked up to Alex and kissed him on the cheek and then bowed to him from the waist.

"I'd curtsey, but it plays the devil with my knees," she stated, her voice an exact imitation of Stasha's.

Both Marie and Alex burst out laughing.

Annalisse looked at her mother, both surprised and happy, "Come here Mama, we're redoing your wedding. The king didn't get to see everyone so I'm showing him what he missed."

Marie stepped out into the clearing and looked over to Jonathan who was trying to suppress his laughter, "She's been doing a fine job, Mama. She can imitate everyone, except for you. She does your voice way up high..."

"You were giddy, Mama," explained Annalisse, "boys don't understand that..."

"May I ask you what you have placed in the king's hair?" asked Marie. Drawing closer, she stared at her new husband's hair with a horrified fascination.

"I made him a crown out of flowers," stated Annalisse.

Marie delicately picked one of the flowers from his hair, "Perhaps next time, you could remove the roots from the flowers, they might sit better in his hair, don't you think?"

"Oh, he doesn't mind," replied Annalisse, "besides there just wasn't time. You have to be on time at a wedding, Mama, otherwise the bishop pouts."

Leaning over Alex, Marie could not suppress a giggle, "Might I help your highness with your crown?"

"I would be delighted," he said with mock dignity. "I haven't had this much dirt on my head since the dragon tried to drop the mountain on top of it."

Gently, Marie began to remove the flowers from his hair, laughing as he brushed the dirt from his wide shoulders and rose to his feet. No scowl, she noted, he seemed for the first time genuinely relaxed. Turning, she watched as Jonathan stood, brushing his pants off as he approached them.

"Perhaps you two could allow me a few minutes alone with his majesty," said Marie softly.

Jonathan instantly took Annalisse's hand, "Come on, you can show me the procession into the dining hall."

"Oh, forget about that," replied Annalisse happily, "there are turtles over there in the pond..."

The two raced off down the lane opposite from where Marie had entered. She watched them, lost in their happiness for a moment. Turning, she found Alex observing her. She favored him with a slight smile and then looked up at him, feeling a bit awkward.

"I need to apologize..." she began.

"Please don't," he said with a smirk, "Ernest has dumped much more awful things on my head than flowers..."

"No," she giggled, brushing some stray foliage from his chest, "not for this, though I suppose that might be in order as well. No, I want to say I'm sorry for not truly thanking you for your gift last night. When you gave it to me, I thought it was just the dresser, I had no idea there was anything in it. When Stasha showed me everything that you had so generously given me... I'm just overwhelmed. I feel so ashamed; you must think me incredibly ungrateful..."

Alex shyly took her hand and began walking with her in the direction in which the children had disappeared, "Please, Marie, don't apologize. We were both tired last night. I admit, I thought you would be more enthused by the gift but not every woman loves jewelry. To be honest, they DID warn me that it didn't look like a jewelry box..."

"Stasha did mention it..."

"I'm just glad that you do like it, that's all," he replied.

She felt so small next to him and yet oddly comfortable. It was their first real conversation alone and she was surprised at how shy he actually seemed. Passing through a hedge of rose bushes, they came upon a bench and she gestured him towards it. He sat down and looked at her; it appeared she needed to speak with him about more than jewelry boxes and was having a hard time imagining how to begin.

"I need to speak to you, Alex," she began. Turning to face him she glanced about the garden, how beautiful it was, she would love to just revel in the beauty of this place, but she had to speak to him, it was only fair.

Alex saw her distress, "Have I upset you, Marie?"

"No, no, not at all," she stated quietly, "but there is something that I must speak to you about, sire, something that has been weighing heavily upon me since my arrival to your shores..."

"All right," he replied, not comfortable with her tone.

Feeling his eyes upon her, she forced herself not to look away though she did not look directly into his eyes.

"Would it not have been better for you and for your kingdom if you had married someone else?" she asked. She swallowed hard to try and calm her nerves and began to speak rapidly, unsure of how he would react and not wanting it to sound like a personal rejection. "I know you wanted to honor the treaty and to end the war, I know your intention is noble and good, but haven't you done yourself a great disservice? If it would make your majesty happier, I would gladly write a letter to anyone who might object to your renouncing our marriage and explain that you were tricked into it..."

"But I was not tricked into it," interrupted Alex. She stopped and looked into his eyes, he seemed so calm, how could he be so calm? "Marie, were you tricked into our marriage? I would not hurt you for the world; do you wish to end our marriage? If that is your desire, I will end our marriage, but only at your command, only because you do not wish to be married to me..."

She shook her head, "It is not important what I want, don't you see that? You have an entire country to think of, to act for...You could marry someone younger, have children of your own...it is not too late for you, we did not consummate..."

Alex looked down at his hands, "We have much to learn about one another, I understand that... Much has happened in a very short amount of time and you are justly worried about your children as well as yourself. I can do nothing to allay your fears because you have no way of knowing if you can trust me..."

"Nor can you, sire, trust me."

Alex considered it, "I trust you, Marie."

Marie stared at him a moment and then shook her head, "You cannot say..."

"Yes," he interrupted, "yes I can." Rising he looked at her intently, "My father taught me that you should trust people until you have reason to believe that you cannot trust them. There have been times when that outlook has been the cause of confusion and hurt and betrayal, but I still believe it is the best and most honest way to deal with people. I know there are those who will not trust anyone for any reason and then there are those who will not trust anyone until they can prove in some way that they are trustworthy. I respect people who have made the decision to go through life in that manner, but I am not one of them. I trust you Marie because I have no reason NOT to trust you."

"How can you say that?" she replied reasonably. "I am the sister of your mortal enemy. I bring with me his niece and nephew about whom you know nothing. No reasonable person would blame you for being suspicious of us. It would make sense for you to suspect us, who would not? I come to you with nothing and force you to assume the responsibility for my upkeep and theirs and..."

"You have done nothing for which I should not trust you," he replied. "Your brother was the cause of the war that brought misery upon your people and has caused the state of affairs that now exists between our two countries. I do not blame you or the people of Vesek for the hostilities; I doubt anyone wanted the war."

"As for your children, if they hate me or my people, they certainly hide it well. I don't believe anyone has seen the children of a mortal enemy; as for me, I've seen what you see and are justly proud of, a beautiful, fun loving little girl and a sensitive and shy young boy."

"Finally, as to your finances, I never expected your brother to assume the burden for my family just as I would not furnish his. You are wrong to say that I was being forced to care for you or the children, no one forced me to do anything, indeed, no one could force me to do anything, not here at any rate. From the first, you wrote to me explaining everything openly and honestly. You did not try to deceive me in any regard, you have given me no cause to not trust you, so I will go on trusting you regardless of whether you think I should or not."

"You cannot ignore the fact that I... that we cannot produce children, sire," she replied softly. "What about the future of your throne?"

He considered her words.

"I do not know," he replied honestly. "In time there will be a solution; you and I will find it together. You are my wife, I desire no other to be my wife. We are married not because you or anyone else tricked me into it, but because I agreed to the match. In all fairness, I know that you were never given the option of refusing the match, so I put it to you again, if you wish to end our marriage, I will not force it upon you. I will not, however, say that I was tricked or have you send messages to those who would defend your honor telling them that my actions were the result of fear or trickery. Now I ask you Marie, will you remain my wife?"

Marie stood silently watching him, her thoughts racing...was what he said true, did he mean it? What could he possibly gain from the position he had taken? The end of the war, yes, that was understandable. Perhaps it was a play for time; allow the war to end and then after a period, quietly remove her and the children. No, she might not be able to trust him but she could not believe that of him either. Was she being foolish? Was he what he seemed? He was not Robert; he had done nothing that Robert had done... Was she punishing him because of Robert, because of what someone else had made them suffer?

"If you will have me, in spite of all that I have said," she replied softly. "I will be your wife."

"And for my people?" he asked softly.

She nodded, "I will do my best to be a good wife and good to your people."

"Then I can ask no more," he said softly. Standing, he gently took her hand. "There are turtles in the pond, I doubt you are as intrigued as your daughter about them, but it is a very pretty pond."

She considered the offer for a moment, "Certainly. I would love to see the pond."

For a moment he hesitated, perhaps he should kiss her and tell her that she could trust him, but with restraint he slowly led her down the path, through the trees and towards the sounds of the children laughing.

***

"The sultan is dead."

Jeftus eyed the dark figure. It had been a week since he had left the sultan, "You are sure?"

"Dead," replied the figure, raising a blackened arm and slamming its fist into the table in front of the king. "He was on the way to one of the islands off his coast when I destroyed his ship."

"I don't understand it," replied Jeftus, "but I don't care either. Now I can discuss the assistance of the Sultan's empire with his Premier, a much more reasonable man."

"He might serve us, sire," replied the figure, growing darker with each utterance.

"Us?" replied Jeftus. "It is not US he'll serve but ME. Do you think you are my equal? Without me, where would you be? In hiding, despised and rejected! It is I who gave you free reign and the space to work in. All I ask is that you use your powers to assist me."

The dark figure swept away towards a darkened corner of the room, "As you say, sire. He will serve YOU, I meant no offense."

Jeftus gestured towards the rooms they occupied, "You promised me results if I gave you a place. You have your place, now I want my results, not soon, now! All I hear is be patient, I will be patient no longer!"

The dark figure's eyes glowed a horrid, hateful red. "Very well, sire. He will be of service to us, I will see to that..."

Jeftus rose and swept from the room. The dark figure watched him leave and then began to transform into something much larger and darker until it filled almost half of the room. The shapeless mass undulated and throbbed and then seemed to vanish.

### Chapter 16

Donna stood in her front yard watching as a coach passed by. Releasing the handle of her wooden bucket, she watched it float downwards on a rope, seeking the water in the well below. A familiar hoof patter reached her ears as she tugged steadily on the rope and by the time she had brought the bucket to rest on the ground beside the well, a beautiful black stallion had entered her yard with a dusty rider on its back.

Looking up knowingly, she picked up her bucket while the rider dismounted and guided the horse to a barn behind the house. Entering the house, she looked quickly at the mirror and straightened a stray lock of her raven black hair, placing her bucket upon the table and turned to await her guest. Appearing at the door, the rider smiled at her for a moment and without a word dunked a ladle into her bucket, drawing forth some water which he quickly swallowed.

"You're a dusty one," she remarked, her dark blue eyes sparkling. "You should wash up, food's almost ready."

"I may not eat for a week," the horseman replied, patting his stomach happily.

"Oh, how was the wedding? Some people from the village went but I was too busy here to get away."

"It was as nice as such an occasion can be," the rider replied. "It will be weeks before things settle down again."

"Is she pretty? You know, her procession did not pass this way, but I heard she is lovely..."

The rider slid up besides her and gave her a familiar squeeze. "She is lovely, in a dignified way, but she is not you!"

With a laugh, Donna tossed her long black hair over her shoulder. "Is that why you keep me prisoner here? Are you afraid you will never find another me?"

The rider sat at her table and pulled her down onto his lap, "I never could find another you and you know it. As for being my prisoner, well I am as much yours as you are mine."

She laughed again and kissed him, "Where are you going this time and who as?"

"I am to visit King Jeftus; I am a traveling merchant on my way to Mantamor to see about the possibilities of setting up a trading station there. I'll need another horse, of course, and my merchant kit..."

She laughed as she rose, "And I know you will be leaving as soon as possible."

"Duty calls," he began regretfully, but suddenly, he stood and spun her into his arms, "but lunch can wait!" He smothered her laughter in kisses.

***

The Sultan of Chandra reclined on a chair surrounded by the survivors of the ship wreck seated cross legged on the deck about him. Captain Fontaine joined the group and offered him a smart bow.

"Is your majesty comfortable?" he asked.

"I am feeling much better, my friend," replied the Sultan, "but it will be sometime before I am comfortable." Looked about the ship he smiled indulgently, "No women? I cannot believe a group of men would set out to sea without women. What do you do at night? Who keeps you warm?"

"The work keeps us warm," laughed Fontaine. "I must speak to your highness about a delicate matter."

The Sultan waved at him, "Captain you weary me. I know, I know, you are a mutineer, your crew are all mutineers, this is a mutineer's ship, I know these things. You used to be part of our friend Jeftus' navy; he wanted to kill you so you took his boat and ran away. A man who does not stay to get killed is either intelligent or a coward. You ran away and saved us, so you are intelligent. It is all a matter of simple logic."

"I am sorry, your highness, but I must weary you with something else yet," smiled Fontaine.

"Very well," replied the Sultan, "but remember; if my bowels are troubled I will hold you responsible."

Fontaine frowned, "Very well, your highness, I accept the terms. I wished to inform you that someone tried to kill you, what happened to your ship was no accident."

The Sultan laughed, "Tried to kill me? Who? Are you saying that there is a man who can make a wave attack a ship? Who is this fellow, I need to make friends with him." To his surprise, the group remained silent instead of joining in with his laughter.

"Your highness, you recall the night in question," stated Fontaine. "It was a moonlit night in a calm sea. My men and I could see your ship perfectly. Suddenly, a wave formed behind your ship, it had no cause; it merely appeared. I have seen rogue waves, your highness, every sailor has, but this was no rogue wave, this was a deliberate wall of water that rose behind your ship and thrust itself downward to destroy it."

"What are you saying?" asked the Sultan. "How can this be? A wave appears only behind my ship and attacks only me? How is this possible, it makes no sense."

"Yet it is true," replied Fontaine. "When we turned to rescue you, no wave struck us, no wave deterred us. Our ship, which was directly in front of yours, never encountered a wave. It rose, struck your ship and then disappeared."

"He tells the truth, oh mighty one," stated one of the men seated on the deck suddenly. "I was the watchman on your ship, oh highest of highs, and I saw the water leap from the sea as if from a fountain. It rose above our mast and then, as if of human flesh, it made a fist, like the fist of a man who is attempting to strike a blow, and it thundered down upon the deck with a hellish fury. I cried out, but no one could hear me above the rush of the water or the destruction of the ship. I tell you true, oh high one, this man speaks what he knows to be true."

"Why did you not report this earlier?" asked the Sultan, annoyed that he was unable to rise and kick the man.

"You were in danger of your life, oh magnificent one. How could I bring you my tale when you were struggling to maintain life itself? I waited to speak until now for fear of burdening you, oh great one. Forgive me for speaking now, but you must know the truth."

"Who would wish to do such a thing?" snapped the Sultan. "Who would be capable of doing such a thing?"

"Perhaps, sire, it is the same person who would think nothing of disgracing his own sister to plunge his nation into war," suggested Fontaine. "You confided in me earlier your highness that you refused to continue your support of Jeftus' war, perhaps he expected a more favorable response from your successor."

The Sultan pondered the idea, "Even if Jeftus wished to do such a thing, he has not such power. If he had wished to attack the ship, why not send his fleet to do so?"

"His fleet is at the mercy of the King of Zambelia," replied Fontaine. "Any group sent out in force would encounter a stronger enemy at sea."

"But how could he arrange for water to do his bidding?" asked the Sultan.

Fontaine drew closer, "There have been rumors, your highness, of a dark entity, an evil force, aligning itself with my former master. There have been several unexplained instances. Take for example the attack on Zambelia by a dragon. The King of Zambelia and the Dragon King are allies and yet one of the Dragon King's subjects attacked them. Also note the sudden onset and severity of winter this year. Just as the troops of his enemy were set to vanquish Jeftus, the weather changed..."

"My seers said that something was unusual this year about the weather," replied the Sultan thoughtfully. "They insisted that it was unnatural, but they could not understand to what end. Now it begins to make sense." The Sultan frowned, "Where, Captain Fontaine, are we headed?"

"To Zambelia," replied Fontaine. "It is our hope to throw ourselves on the mercy of the Lady Marie whom we were honored to bring to their shores. We pray she will allow us to serve her."

"And how many days until we arrive?" asked the Sultan.

"If all goes well, another week," replied Fontaine. "We must take precautions to avoid other ships."

The Sultan nodded his approval. "I will go with you to Zambelia and speak to the new king. Jeftus must be stopped, I will demand it!" Leaning back in his chair he nodded sagely at the lookout who had spoken out so bravely earlier. When he was feeling better, he would not forget to kick him.

***

"Please assure the lady that I have not forgotten my promises," stated Alex, reaching for the handle of his bedroom door. "I cannot, however, act upon them until I have settled the affairs which we are all too familiar with. Please, Parker, do your best to explain it to her, the situation is no more to my liking than it is to hers..." It had been a long day already and Alex had found his talk with Marie emotionally draining. He was hoping to enjoy some quiet time before retiring, but he feared Marie would prefer to continue their earlier discussion and now Parker had brought him a message that made quiet time an even more distant dream.

"I am sure that she will appreciate that your majesty," replied Parker with a large smile. "I will do my best to reassure her of your good intentions. A good night to you, sire."

"And to you as well," replied Alex.

Entering the room and closing the door behind him, Alex was surprised to see both Lady Stasha and Lady Gertrude standing just inside the curtain separating the rooms. He hoped Gertrude would say nothing here, not now. Marie was speaking quietly to them both and upon seeing him, rose to close the curtain that separated the rooms. Alex shrugged and sunk down into a chair near the fire. A short time later, both Stasha and Gertrude emerged from behind the curtain and wishing Alex good night, left them alone.

Alex sat in his chair considering the events of the day. How he wished his father was here to speak with, to confide in. The memory of his father brought tears to his eyes, such a good man, gone.

Marie emerged from behind the curtain in a simple white gown held together by a pink ribbon that descended to the garments waist. She perched quietly opposite him in the chair by the fire. Rising, Alex surprised her by leaned over and kissing her gently on top of the head before retreating behind the curtain to change into his night shirt. Returning a short time later, he banked down the fire and then returned to his chair.

He found Marie examining him as if looking for something or waiting for him to say something.

"I hope you enjoyed tonight," he stated quietly. "I am afraid that there will be many balls and entertainments in the coming months."

"It was wonderful, si...I mean, Alex," she stated softly. "I wanted to ask you about the gown I wore tonight..."

"The one the Dragon King presented," smiled Alex. "You looked very lovely in it, Marie."

"It is exquisite," she agreed, though she doubted his compliment. Lady Gertrude had worn a green dress and few of the courtiers could take their eyes off of her. "What do you think is the best way to acknowledge such a beautiful and costly gift?"

Alex considered it, "Perhaps we could have something made for him. He loves treasure, all dragons do, but something created specifically for him I think would be a proper thank you."

"What sort of thing?" she asked, leaning closer.

He noted how the firelight played on her hair and gave her an otherworldly glow, as if an angel had descended to have a casual conversation with him. He stared at her a moment too long and then looked down at his hands.

"A box, I think. Dragons love to horde treasure and they love ornate boxes to place their treasure in. If you sent him an ornate box, I think he would be most flattered."

Marie leaned back into the chair.

"What is it like to meet a dragon?" she asked.

"Well," drawled Alex, "to be honest, it's terrifying."

Marie tried to contain her surprise. She had never heard a warrior admit to being terrified, though she was sure that they must be at times. He offered her no bravado, which caught her off guard.

"Really?"

"Oh yes," he replied sincerely, "it's frightening. The Dragon King does the best he can not to terrify you, I'm sure. For what he is, he is extremely gentle, it's just that he is so large..."

Marie could not contain her smile at the irony of her husband's description. She could sympathize, she thought, looking at his powerful shoulders.

"He also tends to speak as softly as possible, but as he speaks, often smoke comes out of his nose. You never forget that he could sneeze and turn you into a cinder."

"So he's large, but he tries to be gentle," she stated, her smile growing.

"As large as a mountain," replied Alex, unaware of the joke. "One day, perhaps, I can take you to meet him..."

"No thank you," she replied with a shudder. "I am sure I would faint and that might upset him."

Alex shrugged, "I would think that he is used to it. How I did not faint when I went to see him, I do not know..."

"I thought you had met him before."

"Yes, yes I had, but it doesn't make the experience any less impressive."

Marie turned and looked into the fire, "Have you ever seen him breathe fire?"

"Him, no," replied Alex. "I have seen other dragons do it, however."

She hugged herself and continued to look at the flames.

"Do you think it is painful, to be burned by a dragon like that?"

Alex looked into the fire as well, "I have had a few try to do it to me. It is very unpleasant but I have been fortunate in that I was able to get out of it. I suppose it is over rather quickly once you are trapped..."

She rose and moved towards the curtain, "I don't think I would like to die that way even if it was quick; to be consumed by flame..."

Alex continued to stare at the fire, "There are all sorts of different fires to be consumed by; I suppose that it isn't the worst fire to die by..."

After a moment's silence, he turned towards the curtain and found himself alone. He was surprised to see that she was gone and then heard the rustling of her climbing into bed. Rising, he poked the fire aimlessly for a moment and then, parting the curtains, saw her sitting in bed, her legs stretched out beneath the covers as she looked up at him. Slowly, he slid in beside her.

To his surprise, she tentatively put her hand to his face and leaned forward, kissing him ever so gently. She had thought about their conversation earlier in the day. If he wanted her for his wife, she would be his wife; it was best to consummate their relationship. He would be disappointed, she was sure, but it was best to get it out of the way.

Slipping an arm around her slender waist, he pulled her towards him. He felt her hand reach up and touch the knot clasping the top of his night shirt and slowly loosen it. Opening his shirt, though never breaking the kiss, she ran her hands over his chest. So muscular, she thought, he would have crushed Robert with a single hand. No, best not to think of Robert now...

As gently as he could manage, he loosened the pink cord at her neck that held her white gown together. Kissing his way down her neck, he gently pulled the gown from around her shoulders, pulling it gently open and down to gather at her waist. She looked away from him, her nakedness even in the low light making her self-conscious. What must he see, an old woman playing at being a lover? Why did he hesitate? She prayed he would swiftly consummate their bargain; that it would soon be over. To her surprise, he gently embraced and began kissing her again, reveling in the feeling of her chest against his own, in the warmth of her naked skin upon his. His hands gently glided across her back, one to the small of her back, the other sliding to between her shoulder blades.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered as he journeyed down her neck and continued his descent to her breasts. Gently he teased her nipples hard, holding her to him as he ministered to her.

She found her breathing growing more rapid and twisting away from him, she pulled her gown down past her hips and her long, slender legs as he quickly removed his own night shirt. He could not help but feel uneasy, conscious that he must suffer by comparison to her late husband. He had never hated being large and clumsy more than he did at this moment.

Pulling her back to him, he slowly positioned her above him, causing her to straddle him as he leaned back pulled her body over him, his face nestled between her breasts. His hand held her just above the wonderful curve of her hips and ever so slowly positioned her until he had found her.

She gasped as he entered her, his gentle kisses and expert hands causing her to react without thinking. She was only feeling now, enjoying the pleasure that he was giving to her, feeling things she had never felt before. Somehow she realized that he was not interested in consummating a bargain, he was making love to her, exploring and delighting in her body. No matter how she had tried to hurry him, he would not be rushed and soon, her body began to betray her, her senses reeling from his touch.

Her passion was overriding her reason and she surrendered to him slowly, achingly. They made love for a long time before falling asleep, nude in each other's arms.

***

Marie awoke and rose to sit by the fire, wrapping a soft, silk robe around her naked body. She moved to one of the chairs by the fire and eased down into it, her body feeling slightly sore and satisfied. She loved the feel of her long hair caressing her back, the feel of the silk against her skin and the warmth of the fire. Suddenly a fear gripped her and she saw the door to their chamber opening. Pulling the robe closer to her, she stared in disbelief as a dark figure entered the room and loomed above her. In the dying light of the fire, she saw Robert staring furiously down at her, his eyes filled with an unnatural hatred.

"You're dead," she whispered.

"Whore," he spat, "adulteress! You'll pay for this, Marie, king's sister or no!"

She tried to rise, to flee, but he grabbed her by the neck and reaching down, tore the silk robe from her, leaving her naked and exposed. He began slapping her heavily across the face, again and again his hand lashed out. She cried out, begging him to stop, trying to ward off the blows but he twisted his hand in her hair, pulling her off of her feet. The pain was incredible, it felt as if all of her hair was being pulled out by the roots and she howled in pain, struggling to remain upright.

"Whore bitch, do you think I'm done with you?"

Throwing her to the ground, he stormed out of the room. Struggling to her feet she heard Annalisse scream. She ran, naked and bruised into the hall and saw the door to her daughter's room open. Annalisse lay on the bed begging for help as her father beat her with a leather strap. She called out for Marie, begging her to make it stop, but as Marie gained the door she felt a cold hand grasp her about the waist. Someone had grabbed her from behind, someone she could not see, holding her, laughing, their distorted fingers groping her breasts, a harsh laughter ringing in her ears. She struggled to free herself, but whoever it was grabbed her even more tightly, caressing her flesh and making her ill...

"Marie..."

"Let me go..."

"Marie!"

Marie sat up with a violent start and found herself constrained, swallowed up in someone's embrace. She struggled harder until she heard the voice again call her name in an urgent whisper.

"Marie!"

Breathing hard she snapped her head back, staring at the face that called her in the darkness. Her eyes adjusted slowly until Alex' face finally emerged from the shadows, his hand gently rising to touch her face.

"Marie," he said softly. "You were having a nightmare, it's all right. It was just a dream, you need not be afraid."

Throwing herself into his arms she held him tightly and wept, "They were here..."

"No, no, no one else is here. It is just you and I, just us two. Do not be afraid, no one can harm you." He kissed her gently, rocking her slowly in his arms. "It was just a dream, Marie, it was just a dream."

She held him until her tears subsided. Reaching up, she held his face in her hands and kissed him. She was safe, she knew he would never let anyone harm her, she just knew it to be true. She sought him now, hungry for the affection and safety she had felt in his arms. He responded immediately, kissing her, holding her, gently exploring her body, murmuring assurances to her. Drawing him to her, she wrapped herself around him, surprised at his passion for her.

A moment before she had felt disgraced, embarrassed and now he was eager to make love to her, to her broken and aging body. Alex eagerly found her, reveling in the beauty that she did not know that she possessed. Together they intertwined their bodies and began, unbeknownst to them, the intertwining of their hearts. He made love to her gently and generously for hours and when they finally fell into an exhausted sleep, she lay holding him tightly around the chest, nuzzling his neck, secure in his gentle embrace.

### Chapter 17

"He's coming!" hissed the dark figure. "He's coming here!"

"Who's coming here," replied Jeftus, sweeping his robes about him, annoyed at this intrusion of his chambers. The dark one had appeared without warning, a fact that Jeftus found unsettling.

"Lord Ernest," howled the dark figure. "He is sending Lord Ernest to us to find out about me!"

"On an official..."

"No," howled the figure, "he comes in disguise. He will come here dressed as a merchant, seeking information and trying to insinuate his way into your court. We will be ready for him, sire, we will be ready."

"I'll have him arrested," snapped Jeftus. "I'll have him tortured..."

"We'll have him, yes," hissed the figure. "We will find out what the king is planning, we will find out everything. I will make him talk, oh yes, how he will talk!"

Jeftus rose and smiled, "You will know him when he arrives?"

"I will know him," promised the figure. "I will know him and he will be their undoing!"

Jeftus laughed, they had them now.

***

It had been an odd time, mused Alex. The press of work had grown too great for him to ignore it any longer, so he had retreated to his study to try and plow through some of the messages and decisions that had not been dealt with during the two weeklong celebration of his marriage. Marie was receiving visitors this morning in the great hall, allowing him the chance to get some work done. Unfortunately, as much as he tried to deal with the crush of correspondence, his mind kept returning to the woman he had married and their time as husband and wife.

"She is captivating," he muttered to himself, picking up a scroll and unraveling it and then placing it in front of him to read. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, though that certainly added to her charm. They had made love many times since that first night and she was passionate beyond his wildest hopes. When they embraced, it was as though nothing else in the world existed, nothing else mattered. The puzzling part continued to be the morning that followed each night of passion.

He could not explain it, but there was always a withdrawal, a tactical retreat upon her part. In the dark, alone in each other's arms, there seemed to be no boundaries between them but with the coming of the sun, her guardedness would return. He could almost see her building the walls around herself. He could not help but notice the way that she once again began to weigh her words, study him, measuring her response in everything she said. He did not understand it; how could a woman be so completely engaged in one moment and then so aloof in all others?

Perhaps aloof was too strong a term, for Marie was always gracious and kind. She had urged him to cancel some of the entertainments planned to celebrate their wedding and once he had acquiesced, she had shyly asked him for the money saved. Thinking it was a test to see if he truly trusted her or not, he readily agreed. Instead of spending the money on something frivolous or self indulgent, she had taken the children and distributed it to the poor. Likewise, many of the gifts she had received had been sold and the funds given to the poor and she was scrupulous in reporting to him who had given her what, always asking if it was appropriate for her to keep a gift or not. She was always concerned that nothing given to her would compromise him in anyway.

He had set up a separate fund for her, her own personal money supply and was surprised at how little she spent upon herself. Stasha had told him of a gift of money given her by Sir Chester and how she had discretely opened a free hospital in the village and was supporting it from her own funds. She had done it with no fanfare and no show. Alex realized that his growing feelings for her sprang not only because she was extremely beautiful and passionate, but because she was kind and considerate as well. She had a good heart, a true heart and it only added to her incredible beauty and poise.

Besides, he chided himself, perhaps her reserve was merely a family trait; if it were so, than Jonathan had certainly inherited the characteristic. He seemed so tense, so ill at ease whenever Alex was around. According to Albert, the boy never seemed to truly relax unless he were out riding, away from the court and prying eyes, alone with Albert or his mother and sister. Of course Alex hated to be put on display himself, so he could sympathize with Jonathan on that account. Albert stated that once away from court, he would laugh and speak, but when Alex was around, he always seemed to be watching him as if afraid of him. Occasionally, he would drop his guard and relax as he did the time Annalisse had reenacted the wedding ceremony, but otherwise, he always seemed to be walking on eggshells around him.

"You are a large person," stated Alex, staring at the paper but reading nothing. He knew that he could be intimidating, but he did go out of his way to try and be less so when Jonathan was around. Was that the problem? He intimidated Jonathan? Did he intimidate Marie? He was clumsy and awkward, but he found it difficult to think that Marie could have any doubt about how he felt towards her when they embraced. He shook his head to clear the image of his wife from his mind, too distracting, entirely too distracting.

Besides, he argued, if he were intimidating why wasn't Annalisse intimidated? Here she was a tiny girl and she was the happiest and most carefree of them all. He smiled, thinking of how during the entertainment last night she had left her place and climbed upon his lap for a better view of the acrobats. He had noticed several of the old gossips staring at them and then immediately mumbling to their companions. He thought he had even detected a momentary look of shock on Marie's face as he placed his arms around the child and the two began whispering into one another's ears. She was such a good natured child, so sweet and happy, how could he not love her? In a way, he laughed, she reminded him of Ernest, always happy, never shy, saying whatever came to her mind.

How he wished he could be like that, just free and comfortable in his own skin. Everyone around him was so guarded most of the time; it was a pleasure to speak with anyone who saw him just as Alex and not some royal monolith. Yes, it was easy to love Annalisse, she obviously trusted him just for being him. The thought made Alex smile.

His thoughts then turned to Ernest; nothing had been heard from him. He had expected to hear nothing, but still, each day without a word made him more worried. He trusted Ernest, but alone, in a foreign country, it was a deep game, a deep game indeed. He stared down at the paper in front of him.

"At least try to read it," he ordered himself. He laughed and muttered, "You know you're ridiculous when you are a king and you have to order yourself to do things..."

***

"Where are the children?" asked Marie as moved gracefully up the stairs towards her room.

"Annalisse is in the garden with Lady Gertrude and Jonathan is with Albert in the stables," replied Stasha. "There seems to be a horse he is interested in, I'm just warning you that Albert plans on speaking to Alex about it and if I know Alex, he'll be asking you about it."

Marie smiled, "You are sure that I'm not needed in the hall?"

"No, Marie," smiled Stasha as they gained the bedroom door, "the delegation from Alarotor has been delayed; they won't arrive until tomorrow and there is nothing else planned for this afternoon."

Marie opened the door and glided into the room, collapsing into a chair by the cold fireplace.

"I feel a bit guilty," she stated, looking up at Stasha with a sheepish grin, "but the idea of three hours alone is a miracle."

"Do you need anything?" asked Stasha.

Marie shook her head, "No, Stasha, thank you. I'm just going to relax, perhaps have a nap or just read... I have no idea..."

"Very well," smiled Stasha, "I'll see that you're not disturbed and I'll come back to help you dress just before dinner. Enjoy your time!"

Stepping out into the hallway, Stasha made her way down the stairs, finding Parker speaking with the Lady Gertrude at the bottom of the stairs. The two looked up at her uneasily as she approached.

"Gertrude, where is Annalisse?" asked Stasha.

"In the garden with several of the children from the village," smiled Gertrude. "I just requested some refreshments for them; they are having a small party on the green. I'll check on them shortly but do not worry, the guards are watching over them."

"Very good, then, as long as the guards are keeping an eye on things," Stasha replied. "Parker, the Lady Marie is resting, could you place someone on guard here at the bottom of the stairs to see that she isn't disturbed?"

"Of course," replied Parker.

Lady Gertrude joined Stasha as she headed towards the main hall, leaving Parker alone. Calling a guard, Parker instructed him to let no one pass and to accompany the Lady Marie should she leave the room. With a deep sigh, he headed towards the king's study, hoping to have a word with Alex.

***

Jessica Cove is a small fishing village on the eastern shore of Zambelia. For centuries, generations of fisherman have plied their trade alongside net weavers, ship builders and merchants. The cobbled stone streets of the town echo the sounds of horseshoes and a lively commerce and the wharves are constantly alive with people and movement. It was odd to hear the usual sounds of the docks die out to an uneasy silence as three large warships entered the harbor. Everyone rushed down to the docks to see the spectacle of two of the king's men of war escorting an enemy warship into dock at a pier at the far end of the cove.

The garrison came out in force, a large company of men of arms descending upon the dock and arriving at the pier just as the enemy ship tied up to dock.

Captain Fontaine descended the gangplank alone and met the captain of the guards at the end of the pier.

"Captain Fontaine, late in the service of King Jeftus," he stated cordially with a bow.

The captain of the guards was a huge man, dressed in full armor and in no mood for nonsense.

"Late in the service of King Jeftus?" he asked coldly.

"The king decided to have me killed," replied Fontaine. "My men objected and together with me took the ship you see here to place at the disposal of your king and his most gracious consort, the Lady Marie."

Heavy eyebrows descended to the bridge of the captain of the guard's nose.

"What's this? You mutinied and came here to serve our lord the king? No sir, you've come to bring his majesty grief! This could start a war..."

"I have a very important person, Captain, who is willing to testify to our good intentions and who has important business with his majesty, King Alex."

The captain drew his sword, "Enough nonsense, my good man, come with me."

"I would love to," replied Fontaine, "but I promised his highness, the Sultan, that I would not leave until I arranged for his safe passage to King Alex."

The captain hesitated, "The Sultan? Of Chanra?"

"The same," replied Captain Fontaine. "His ship was destroyed and we rescued him. We have reason to believe that King Jeftus was in on the plot to kill the Sultan, it is this that he wishes to discuss with your lord and master."

The captain replaced his sword, unsure of how to proceed. Behind him he heard the company snap to attention and turned to see the Vice Admiral, Duke Tremont, striding down the pier. The duke was a short man with an enormous black beard and nearly bald head who wore a bright red tunic and sword so large that it almost scraped the ground with each step. As he approached, the captain saluted.

"My lord duke," he stated, "this man is a pirate in the service of the Sultan of Chanra."

The duke bristled and replied in a high pitched voice that did not fit his appearance, "A pirate, you say?"

"Not a pirate, milord," corrected Fontaine, "a mutineer. My ship and crew were formerly in the service of King Jeftus, but upon his order to kill me, my crew and I mutinied. We decided to present ourselves to her highness, the Lady Marie, we are the ship that brought her to your fair kingdom to marry his majesty, King Alex. On our trip here, we witnessed the destruction of the ship carrying the Sultan of Chanra. We were able to rescue the Sultan and have brought him here to confer with his majesty, King Alex. We have reason to believe that it was his majesty, King Jeftus, who arranged for the destruction of the Sultan's ship."

The duke listened patiently and nodded quietly to himself for several minutes before speaking.

"You say that the Sultan of Chanra is aboard your ship?"

"Yes, milord," replied Fontaine.

"And you state that he has come to confer with our sovereign lord and king, his majesty King Alex?"

"That is correct, milord."

"And you state that yours is the ship that brought her highness, the Lady Marie and her children to our shores?"

"That is correct, milord."

The duke frowned, "I do not understand it. I do not understand it in the least and I won't be held responsible for it, not at all!" Turning to the captain of the guards, he raised his bushy eyebrows, "Can you imagine bringing such a thing to us here, in a fishing village? I was not even supposed to be here, just happened to be down to meet with a friend and now you expect me to greet a visiting sovereign properly in a fishing village? Ridiculous, nonsense... You embarrass me, sir, embarrass me to no end. Can't be done, just can't be done..."

"I apologize for the inconvenience, milord," replied Fontaine, "but his highness the Sultan awaits your reply."

The duke humphed his displeasure to the captain of the guards, "Damned inconvenient, unconventional, that's the word. Completely unconventional, that's all it is. Very well, very well...this is what we'll do. Captain, send your fastest messenger to his majesty at Wharton and tell him that we have the Sultan of Chanra in attendance and await his orders regarding the matter." Turning he faced Fontaine, his face reflecting his annoyance, "I have no idea what to do with you or your men, so I want you to surrender your ship immediately, right now, this instant!"

"Consider it done," replied Fontaine. "We throw ourselves on your mercy..."

"The hell you do!" replied the duke, red faced. "You can do that when you speak to his majesty and not a moment sooner. I'll not be held responsible. Your men, they will be confined to the outpost outside of town. Captain, you will extend every courtesy until we are told what to do with them, they are visiting seamen from a foreign power and will be treated as such but they are not to go beyond the boundary of the outpost, is that understood?"

"Yes, milord..."

"As for you and the Sultan, well, we'll just have to wait to see what his majesty decides, that is all, that is all we can do, and I won't be held accountable. Your ship will be cared for here by our men until his majesty makes his pleasure known."

"Thank you, milord," replied Fontaine.

"Don't thank me, don't thank me," fumed the duke. "It might be misconstrued and I won't be held responsible. Captain, send another messenger back to the fortress at Eltewon, it's the only place decent enough in this area to receive a visiting head of state and have them make preparations to receive the Sultan of Chanra. How many people are with him?"

Fontaine smiled, "Including me, forty five, milord."

"Forty five... forty five do you say? Oh well, it won't do, it won't do at all. We must be given time to arrange things, to coordinate things...very well. I will join you on board to welcome his highness the Sultan and then we will need a day to arrange for the transportation of him and his entourage to Eltewon. By then we will know his majesty's pleasure. That's all; it is all I can do. Very well, captain, very well, see to it. You, what is your name?"

"Captain Fontaine."

"Very well, Fontaine, very well, take me to the Sultan and let us prepare for the worst. Most irregular, no consideration, really, no consideration... Captain, you have your orders, snap to it, we have no time, none!"

The captain of the guards saluted and began barking orders to his men who flew about the pier in response. As he gave his orders to the royal messengers, he could hear the duke climbing up the gangplank and muttering, "Most irregular, most irregular..."

### Chapter 18

The guard looked disdainfully at the merchant, a short, fat man in a large black cloak, coarse brown clothing, a large, floppy hat and heavy boots.

"The king is not going to see the likes of you," the guard snapped.

"Then the interior minister," replied the merchant in a dry wheeze.

"Nonsense," replied the guard. "If you want a permit to sell your wares, go the sheriff, he will give you a permit."

"Permit?" asked the merchant, "you want a permit to make the king rich? Very well then, I can go elsewhere!"

"You want to offer money to the king?" laughed the guard. "How much..."

"If he knows what to do, he could make ten thousand golds!"

The guard's eyes narrowed, "Bah, where would you get ten thousand golds? You couldn't raise ten!"

"Ten thousand I say," replied the merchant, turning away in disgust. "Fine, fine, if your king is such a fool as to not like money..."

"Old Jeftus," laughed the guard, "not like money? If you could raise ten thousand, he would squeeze you for twenty!"

"He can squeeze another, for he will not squeeze me!"

"Wait a moment," barked the guard, rethinking his position. "I can ask..."

"Ask another, I am leaving!"

"You leave when I say you leave and not a moment before!"

The guard grabbed the merchant by the neck and dragged him down the hallway to a large opening. On the far side sat the king, a line of petitioners nervously standing before him.

"I will not stay," roared the merchant, suddenly pushing the guard.

Drawing his sword, the guard blocked his path, "You move and you will be a foot shorter!"

"What is going on over there?" snapped Jeftus.

"This merchant says he can make your majesty ten thousand golds," replied the guard.

"I will never make ten thousand golds for a man who is such an ass as to have you as his guard," roared the merchant.

Jeftus' face contorted in rage, "Take him away! Take him away NOW!"

Several guards grabbed the merchant and wrestled him out of the room. Taking him back down the hall, they drove him down a narrow staircase, poorly lit by sputtering torches. Down they plunged passed barred rooms where piteous cries for help echoed in the darkness. Three flights down a door was opened and the merchant thrown into a black cell. The door slammed shut behind him, cutting him off from the rest of the world. Rising from the floor where he had been thrown, the merchant checked his coat, then his surroundings. Squares of light softly illuminated the cold, stone room, a bucket for waste and a pile of straw for a bed making up the only accommodations. With great care, the merchant removed his coat and folded it into a cushion and placed it in the corner facing the door. Lowering himself down onto the coat, he leaned back against the wall, the shadows concealing his growing smile. So far, so good...

***

In the village below King Jeftus' castle a plump, middle aged woman in a worn brown dress and a plain brown cloak wandered about the main street, a traveler's staff in her hand. She looked up at the sign of what appeared to be a pub and entered cautiously. A large, happy man, dressed in a clean, but worn shirt and patched leather pants greeted her with a bow. His round face and high reaching golden hair gave him a comical air as he spoke to her in a loud voice.

"Good day, miss, how can I be of service?"

The woman smiled at him and peered discretely into the large tavern room beyond.

"Do you let rooms?" she asked.

"Indeed I do, miss. Food and lodging, ma'am, all at reasonable rates..."

The woman peeked past him again, "What would a private room be, my good man?"

"Private, ma'am?" asked the inn keeper, momentarily stumped. "We usually double up the ladies, with other ladies, of course."

"I am willing to pay a bit more to have a space to myself," she replied. "My husband will be joining me in a week or so, until then, I would like a private space."

The man considered it. The borders had just been opened and while there were rumors of impending crowds, nothing had materialized yet. "It would cost a silver a night, ma'am, but that includes dinner. I know it's a bit steep, but you must understand that it isn't our normal way..."

"A silver a night then," smiled the woman.

The man looked surprise at the lack of bartering, but felt well pleased with himself.

"Very well ma'am, very well. Please, if you'll follow me. May I take your bundle?"

"No, no thank you," she demurred, "I will keep it with me. Once I'm settled, might I get something to eat?"

"Stew is on as we speak ma'am," replied the man, turning and leading her through the large tavern room to a back passage that led to a stairway to the second floor. Once on the second floor, he took her down a corridor that brought them back towards the front of the building. Opening the last door on the left he proudly showed her a small room with a bed and fireplace, a small table and a chair.

"Here it is ma'am. Clean as a whistle and no mice."

The woman graced him with a weary smile, "It is perfect, just perfect." Reaching into the purse she wore tied to her waist, she pulled out two silver coins and handed them to the innkeeper, "This is for tonight and tomorrow night. I will be down shortly to taste some of the stew that you spoke of."

"A pleasure ma'am, a pleasure," replied the innkeeper, happily pocketing the money. "If you need anything, just call out, my name is Jenkins. If I'm not here, the boy will come running." With a short bow, he let himself out of the room, patting the coins in his pocket and feeling quite clever.

In the room, the woman unleashed her bundle upon the bed, a variety of items falling loosely out upon the cover, including some clothes, some containers and a few other items. Crossing to the fireplace, she peered at herself in the mirror above the bed and smiled. Instead of a middle aged woman in a brown cloak, a beautiful young woman with raven black hair smiled back at her. She shook her head and laughed; the things she did for her dear heart...

***

Lady Marie watched her gown puddle at her feet with a smile. A whole afternoon to herself, no delegations, no small talk, no being put on display. Picking up the gown, she quickly took it to her wardrobe and hung it up. Retreating to her vanity, she brushed her hair and began to think of the past weeks, it all seemed so strange.

Her thoughts went to Jonathan and Annalisse, she felt proud of the way each had conducted themselves. True, Jonathan would need time to become more relaxed and confident, but he seemed to grow a bit bolder each day. He had been through so much, but for the first time she believed that he would have the chance to live a normal life, that all of them would. It was all due to Alex, he would allow them to grow and flourish here, he would protect them. The thought momentarily overwhelmed her and she swallowed hard; she was coming to trust him, to believe what he said.

Shaking her head, she forced herself to think of Annalisse. She had never seen anyone embrace a new chance as wholeheartedly as her Annalisse; she glowed, enjoying every moment of everyday. It was obvious that she had captured Alex' heart, the two of them always seemed to be laughing and speaking together. She thought back to the entertainment and Annalisse sitting on Alex' lap... At first she had been stunned; Annalisse had always been terrified to be anywhere near her father and there she was, sitting on the king's lap as if she belonged there! When Alex had placed his arms around her and the two began talking, well, it was then that she had realized that he had fallen under her daughter's spell.

She thought of Alex and their time together at night, blushing as she thought that Annalisse was not the only one whose spell Alex had fallen under. She tried to dismiss the thought but glancing up at the mirror, saw the reflection of her smile. Perhaps it was more accurate to say that they both had been captured by a spell. His touch did something to her, somehow made her forget everything. In his arms there was no past, no future, just the present, just the moment. He was normally so restrained but when they were alone, he was extremely passionate. No one had ever touched her in the way he did, it was if he knew what would please her and wanted only to do so. In the soft glow of the fireplace and candles, she could feel secure as they made love. She felt safe in the dark thinking he could not discern her body as it truly was, that he could imagine it as he wanted it to be.

Glancing about the room, making sure she was alone, she slowly pulled the last of her clothing over her head and stood before the mirror. Her hands reached up, touching her throat and then descended to her breasts, no longer pert perhaps but still firm and full. Her left hand descended her side and she flinched as her fingers found the scar near her ribs. It was there that her rib had emerged; slicing outwards when it broke...it was then that the baby had died. She had not thought of the baby in a long time, had not felt the loss and it suddenly crowded in on her thoughts. She rubbed the scar, it was part of her and every time she touched it, she flinched, remembering the pain and the loss. Odd, Alex had touched her there many times and except for the first time, she had not flinched. Somehow his touch erased the memory...no, that wasn't so; nothing erased the memory. Still, having him hold her, having him touch her and having him to touch made the memory bearable.

A panicked feeling began to rise in her and she noticed she was breathing more heavily. A realization took hold of her, a sudden understanding for which she was unprepared. He was who he said he was; there was nothing else, just a man who was trying to do the best he could, a man who cared for her and the children. Marie hugged herself, suddenly certain; he CARED for her.

Her mantra of "Robert is dead" suddenly was gone, replaced in an instant with a new one, "Alex cares for me". As the thought took over her mind, she saw the curtain rustle ever so slightly and with a gasp, she wheeled around to confront...

"Alex!"

He stood within the curtain, a parchment scroll in his hand, a strange look upon his face, just standing and staring at her as if rooted to the spot.

Oh, my GOD, she thought, looking down at her nude body suddenly on display before him without the cover of darkness, obvious and unguarded in the bright, brilliantly sunlit room. Instinctively her left arm cupped her breasts and her right hand moved to shield her sex from his sight. She looked back at him in horror, too embarrassed and frightened by what his reaction might be to move. What must he think seeing her, truly seeing her for the first time?

For a moment, Alex stood and just stared at her, taking the sight in, burning it into his memory. He had come in looking for an earlier part of the correspondence he held in his hand having no idea that anyone else was in the room. He had remembered that he had brought the earlier letter with him to their room last night and had run up from his study to retrieve it.

Pushing aside the curtain, he had stepped in and pulled it closed just out of habit, only then noticing his bride standing before the mirror as naked as at her birth.

He could not take his eyes off of her, he had never seen her in the daylight and he was overwhelmed by the sight of her. She stood there, completely as nature intended and she was perfect, like some sort of idealized statue. Her face was that of an angel and her body, from the swell of her breasts to her tiny waist, to the flare of her hips to the shapeliness of her legs was a masterpiece. Even her skin seemed to glow in the light, a perfect rosy hue. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, how stunning she appeared, but when he opened his mouth to speak, he could say nothing, words failed him. Looking up, he could see the surprise in her face and he reacted, following an impulse he felt no control over.

As she remained unmoving he suddenly strode forward coming to stand before her, towering over her, looking down at her with the strangest expression. She too was unable to speak, could think of nothing to say in her embarrassment when suddenly, he leaned down and wrapped her in his arms, kissing her hungrily. She blinked twice, trying to think but was too stunned by his action for any thought to form. Before she could recover, her body negated her mental struggle and her passion for him took over.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she responded, kissing him with an emotion she could not understand and could not refuse. He crouched lower and she felt his arms positioning themselves, one on the middle of her back, the other wrapping around her upper thighs. All at once she was being lifted in his arms, carried towards their bed, his lips descending from hers to her neck. She kept her arms entwined about his neck as he lowered her onto the bed, pulling his lips back to hers as he fumbled with his clothing.

It was but a moment and his clothing was gone, how she did not know or care. With his lips and hands he caressed her, positioned her, explored her. Neither thought nor understood anything beyond what they were feeling, each trying to satisfy an almost animal need to please the other. He descended to her sex, his hands trailing up her sides to service her breasts. She moaned and ran her fingers through his hair, urging him on, begging him not to stop. She cried out, writhing beneath his urgent touch and suddenly, he was above her, his dark eyes glowing, his breath raspy. She arched her back to meet his thrust, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him to her, their tongues intertwining, their bodies seared together as one. She pulled his head to her breasts, each of his thrusts forcing the air from her as they rose to newer, more dizzying heights.

At last she could contain it no longer, wave after wave of pleasure broke upon her and she cried out, her hands grasping his sides as he filled her. She felt her heart thundering in her chest, felt her torso shuddering with each breath she took. He lowered himself gingerly to his side, gasping for air, staring down at her, lost in her beauty. Gently he began to brush a few stray strands of her long hair from about her face and then he lowered his face to hers and kissed her. She moaned her acceptance and reached down for him, eager for more, hoping this would never end. He cared; she knew that he cared...

***

Albert stared at the messenger for a moment and then reread the letter.

"It came as a surprise to the Duke as well," stated the messenger matter-of-factly.

"Who else knows about this?" asked Albert.

"The whole countryside, milord," he replied. "The Sultan is not a quiet guest and it is a little hard to hide an enemy warship..."

"Of course, of course," murmured Albert, running a hand through his thick hair. "Go and get something to eat my lad, I will summon you shortly, I must alert his majesty."

The messenger bowed, "Yes milord, thank you, milord."

Albert moved quickly out of study and headed to Alex' study, this was a frightening development. Knocking, he entered to find the room empty. Puzzled, he exited, motioning the guard standing in the hallway to attend him.

"Yes, milord."

"Where is the king?"

"He left some time ago, milord. He said he was going to his rooms, needed something he had left there, but he has yet to return."

Albert frowned, "If you see him, let him know that I need to speak to him immediately."

Leaving the man, he headed for the stairs. The king must be informed.

### Chapter 19

King Jeftus sat at a table set in a courtyard and moodily eyed the petitioners who stood awkwardly before him. Turning his gaze towards the prisoners, he noted the fat merchant with the defiant distain on his face. The dark figure had advised him, had coached him and had warned him.

Pointing to the fat merchant, he called out to his guard, "Bring that one here."

The fat merchant lumbered towards him with an angry air and stopped before the table when the guard called him to a halt.

"So, you are the financial wizard who will make me ten thousand golds," murmured Jeftus. "How do you propose to do such a thing?"

"You are a fool," snapped the merchant angrily. "What type of fool asks how to make money in front of others who might steal the idea and make it for themselves? You are a fool for asking and a fool for not believing!"

Jeftus rose in a fury, "Have him executed!"

"Sire," began the guard, "are you sure?"

The words reminded Jeftus of the dark figure's warning, "He will try to anger you, you must control your temper, it is a trick."

Jeftus peered at the guard, what did he know? Had he heard his conversation with the dark figure? He stored the thought for later review and spoke in a terse voice to the guard, "Bring him back to his cell, I will speak to him later..."

The guard prodded the merchant forward and into the rooms behind Jeftus as the king motioned for the guards to bring him his next case. The merchant led the way down the corridor to the stairs that led to the cells below from which he had come. As the guard unlocked his door, the merchant peered up at him and smiled knowingly.

"What are you grinning at?" asked the guard. "When old Jeftus calls for you, he'll wipe that smile off of your face, just wait and see."

"Why did you stop him?" asked the merchant, lumbering into the cell and lowering himself onto the floor. "You've said I'm nothing but trouble, so why extend yourself for me?"

"You said you could make him some money," said the guard. "The treasury is damn near empty. Pretty soon, they'll be no pay for any of us, so if you can make him some money, it's in my best interests!"

"Help your king and help yourself," smiled the merchant, "a noble sentiment. Tell me, friend, did you fight in the last war?"

"Six ungodly months in the mountains at the pass of Varnaise until they overran us and then six more months near the port of Jerrinaous until we were forced to retreat... I've seen some things that would make your blood boil, my friend, boil."

"Yet you remain in his service," replied the merchant, suddenly producing an apple from his sleeve and giving it a sharp bite. The snapped caused the guard to jump as the merchant continued to munch and speak, "You are obviously competent enough to survive some of the worse battles of the war, seems to me that you could find a better way to make a living."

"I'm a soldier, all I've ever been," growled the guard, closing the door, but continuing to peer through the bars. "What would you have me be, a merchant like you?"

"No, not a merchant, but perhaps a mercenary," stated the merchant.

The soldier looked about the room, checking for any sign that anyone else was present.

"You shouldn't talk like that. He'll have us both killed."

"But why?" asked the merchant, relishing his apple. "If I sold you a cloak, would you not pay me for it? If I had you dig a ditch or work in my fields, would you not be entitled to a day's wage? I speak no treason when I suggest that when a man does a job, he should be paid for it, so why would the king be upset? All I'm saying is that there are others who would value your service, others who would be glad to pay you for it."

"You're talking treason," snapped the guard.

"And you, one of the king's guards, is talking it with me," laughed the merchant. "It is all make believe of course. But since we are talking about make believe, let us imagine another story. Say there are not enough people like me to help the king fill the treasury and thus, not enough money to pay a man such as yourself his due wages. We'll say that the king can't make enough money to pay you, or even perhaps he can, but he wants the money for himself and so you don't get any of it. Now say another fellow, perhaps a prince or a duke, or even just a lowly merchant, suddenly approached you and said, "I will pay you my good man!" what would you say to that? Would you remember your oath to the king or would you consider your oath to your stomach?"

"You're talking treason," whispered the guard. "You're talking treason..."

"And you are not answering my question," replied the merchant. "What if Jeftus walks in here and says, "Kill that fat merchant" and you take out your sword to do it and I take out a purse filled with gold and I say, "Kill the king and take the purse", what would you do? Is it better to starve for a foolish oath you took or to eat like a king and do the world a service by getting rid of a bad sovereign?"

"If he hears us..."

"And yet you still don't answer me," taunted the merchant. "Make no mistake about how Jeftus would act in your stead. If the situations were reversed, old Jeftus would carve you up like a pig on a platter!"

"I'll cut out your tongue..."

"Do you have a wife?" asked the merchant suddenly, throwing his apple core towards the wall gleefully.

"What's that?"

"Do you have a wife?" repeated the merchant. "Children? A home? A dog? A horse? Parents you support?"

"What have they to do..."

"A wife might want her husband to support her, might even expect it of him," stated the merchant philosophically. "Now how is she going to feel the day you come home and say, "We're going to have to start eating rat pie, my love, because old Jeftus isn't interested in paying me anymore. Perhaps I should have opted to join with that fat merchant who offered to pay me for my labor!" Do you think she'll say, "Who wants to eat good food, better you kept your oath to that devil wearing the crown, let us have some nice rat pie instead?" I doubt it; women are notoriously short sighted when it comes to having a great deal of money. They never think about how new clothes must be cleaned by new servants or how tiaras might ruin their hairdo, no, not at all. All they think about is having money and a life of leisure, but that's women, short sighted creatures, one and all."

"I'll hear no more of this," growled the guard, but still he did not move.

"I understand your problem, my dear fellow," stated the merchant. "We have time, think carefully, think very carefully, I say. I won't withdraw my offer for the time being, so think it over!"

The guard watched as the merchant leaned against the wall and began whistling a happy tune. He's mad, he must be. The guard returned to his table and sat down. He thought of his wife and his parents, they were barely able to get by and they were still better off than most of the people they knew. How long before they were all in the same boat, starving to death and for what? The guard rose and took a drink of water, finding it brackish. Was it insane? Did the fact that the king was bad mean that the oath was bad? He would have to think about this, an unpleasant prospect. Like many people, the guard did not relish the idea of having to think...

***

The Lady Gertrude made her way to the doorway of the king's chamber and was about to knock when she heard a voice call to her in a low whisper from down the hall.

Tentatively, she crept down the hall towards the door of the bathing room. Suddenly, the door swung open and a hand grabbed her arm, pulling her inside. Before she could speak, she was wrapped in someone's arms and was being kissed passionately.

Pushing herself away, she backed against the door and then smiled, "Milord..."

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a husky whisper, a roguish grin on his face.

"I was coming to speak with the Lady Marie," she smiled, her dimples deepening.

"I would say it is a wasted journey," he replied, wrapping her in his arms once again. "The lady will be asleep for some time unless I miss my guess..."

Pulling her close, kissing her once again his hands moved to the bindings on her gown.

She pulled away, "No, milord, we mustn't..."

"Nonsense my love," he responded. "You know you are the queen of my heart..."

"As you, milord are my king, but we mustn't," she protested, feeling his lips on her neck and her legs growing weaker. "It is too soon. You must secure our future first..."

She moaned as his hands slithered beneath her open bindings, kneading her breasts as his lips found hers again. It was so dangerous; they could be caught but that fact only seemed to add to the excitement as her gown fell open to her waist. His lips burned a path to her breasts and she felt her knees grow weaker still. No, she must stop; they must not proclaim their love until all had been decided.... Suddenly someone was banging loudly on a door. She would have fallen as he stepped back, but he continued to hold her tightly, listening to the noise outside. A voice echoed in the corridor...

"The Lord Albert," he hissed. "Say nothing!"

She stood, terrified that they might be discovered. Coming to her senses, she quickly arranged her gown as he released her and went to the door. After a few minutes, they heard footsteps descending the stairs. Opening the door carefully, he peeked outside and then carefully closed it. Turning he grabbed her about the waist to continue, but she twisted away from him.

"We cannot do this, not until you gain your release," she stated breathlessly. "I love you, but it is too soon, you must secure our future first."

He nodded, "I will, my love, my one and only. Have no fear of it, we will be together soon."

***

"I have had people searching for you everywhere, milord," stated Albert excitedly as Alex entered his study looking flush. "Where have you been?"

Alex offered him an uneasy smile as he closed the door and lowered himself into his chair.

"I was in my room; I had gone there to find a piece of correspondence..."

"I was at your door ten minutes ago," replied Albert in exasperation, "I knocked quite vigorously."

Alex shrugged, "I must have been so intent on finding the document that I did not hear you..."

"It does not matter, we have larger issues to contend with," interjected Albert. "The Sultan of Chanra is here."

"What do you mean, here?" started Alex.

"Here, in Zambelia," replied Albert. "He's at the fortress of Eltewon apparently in the company of some mutineers who saved him after the destruction of his own vessel."

"Mutineers saved the Sultan of Chanra?" asked Alex, his mind struggling to concentrate. "I thought mutineers kidnap people and hold them for ransom given the chance..."

"The mutineers are the same men who brought your bride to our country," replied Albert. "Jeftus apparently wanted to kill them for defending your bride's honor and they decided that it was better to flee than to accommodate him. On the journey here to ask for her protection, they found the Sultan floating in the sea, apparently without conveyance, so they brought him with them, here is the report, read it yourself."

Alex took a moment to scan the document and gather the facts in his mind.

"I can't help but think this sounds like one of the wild stories Ernest likes to tell..."

"What are we to do?" asked Albert.

"Oddly, I was going to ask you the same question," replied Alex. "We have the Sultan here..."

"He claims that someone tried to assassinate him," stated Albert. "Apparently his arrival has been noted by just about everyone. If his assassin finds out he is here, they might make another attempt and if he dies here..."

Alex groaned, "Yes, I understand..."

Looking at Albert he squinted, "It would be easier to keep him at Eltewon, he will be safer in a fortress where we can control access to him. We are at least a day's journey away; we will need to make arrangements..."

"Agreed," replied Albert. "Will you be taking her highness with you?"

Alex considered it, "Should I?"

"He might be offended if you left her behind, though he has a reputation for not thinking much of women," stated Albert. "Still, I think he would want to congratulate you both regarding your recent marriage. Also, the Lady Maria might know him..."

"We will have to find out," replied Alex. "It would be faster to travel with less people..."

"You are newly married, sire," replied Albert. "Bringing her highness along would also deflect some of the attention from the Sultan and more importantly, the mutineers."

"True," replied Alex, "but we must strive to keep it from turning into a royal progress..."

"I will see to the arrangements," replied Albert. "Perhaps you should speak to her highness and inform her of what we are doing."

"Yes," replied Alex. "She was in our rooms when last I saw her..."

"You were BOTH in the room and neither of you heard me knocking?" asked Albert.

Alex looked away, "The lady was asleep, Albert. It was the first chance she's had to truly relax..."

Albert shook his head, "I will get to work; you had best go to her!"

"Yes, I will go to her now," he replied and rising and leaving the room. At the door, he hesitated. "Albert, do you remember the discussion we had regarding the Lady Marie the other day?"

Albert looked at Alex, his face darkening, "Yes sire, I remember what you said... I have not spoken to the council regarding the matter."

"I think...Albert; I believe I have made up my mind regarding what should be done..."

Albert drew closer, "Sire, I understand your concerns and your desire to have the matter... for a lack of a better term...settled, but do you think that now is the proper time? I beg you sire, take my advice and wait a little while longer..."

"I feel as if I am being dishonest with her and there is the matter of..." began Alex.

"Yes sire, yes, I know, but think of all of the other matters," pleaded Albert. "Your brother has not yet returned, the Sultan is here, the mutineers...think, sire, of the kingdom. I understand your personal feelings but now is not the time..."

Alex nodded, reluctance in his voice, "Yes, Albert, yes, I suppose you are right. Perhaps it would be best to wait until after I have spoken with the Sultan..."

"At the very least sire," replied Albert. "What if the result of the meeting with the Sultan is another war? Then what? We cannot afford such a distraction at this time, sire..."

Alex strode to the door.

"You are right, Albert," he stated over his shoulder. "We must wait, but I cannot say that it makes me happy to do so."

### Chapter 20

Except for the occasional visit from an overly affectionate rat, Ernest was enjoying his visit to Jeftus' dungeon. There was so much to do and ever so many ways in which to do it. Tugging at his cap, he smiled and thought of his beloved, waiting so patiently in the inn below. Soon, he thought, soon we will be together.

The cap had been a present from Donna; it would not leave his head without his express command. Also, it contained the magic that allowed him to appear as the fat merchant to all who saw him. Rising from the floor, he shook out his cloak, another present from his beloved. It too was magic and when he placed it upon his shoulders, he could appear as anyone he pleased. He waited a short time, watching his jailor nodding ever so comfortably on his chair and could not completely suppress a laugh.

"Dreaming of piles of food, no doubt," he smiled.

Yes, he and his jailor had had many interesting conversations since that first one. He almost had his man convinced, just a few more sessions. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his lock pick and had the cell door open in a moment's time. Wrapping the cloak about his shoulders, he looked down at his feet and saw them shod in a pair of worn leather military boots. He would become one of the king's guards, a perfect disguise for moving about the castle at this time of night. Gently closing the door, he sauntered past his jailor and up the stairs into the corridor leading to the king's hall.

Pausing at the top of the stairs, he peered about cautiously. Guards stood in their spots at a distance from the door, the lights were low, the shadows ominous. Slowly, hugging the shadows, he made his way down the hall towards the stairs leading up to the king's apartment. Guards were on the stairs, but they merely nodded to him as he passed them and ascended. He had been this way the last few nights and they assumed he was merely heading to relieve one of the others on duty.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, he headed away from the king's quarters, down a long, dark corridor where no guards stood. At the end of the corridor, he turned to his left and followed the wall until he was outside of a set of four doors, two on either side of the hall across from one another. He knew not to enter the ones on his left; those were where the dark figure resided. Instead, he slipped into the rooms across the hall on the right and sat silently, listening to the noises that crept from beneath the door. Smiling to himself, he leaned against the wall. Whoever had constructed these rooms and this corridor had acted upon an ulterior motive. Anything said on one side of the hall could be heard plainly on the other. Undoubtedly these rooms had been constructed to allow the king to eavesdrop on foreign dignitaries and others whom he did not trust.

Ernest nodded approvingly at the room in which he found himself; it had once been a bedroom but it had been burned out. Had there been a plague here, he wondered, that was the only reason rooms were normally burned. Perhaps the dark figure required that the room be burned for some other purpose, there was no clue unfortunately, but it was not terribly important at the moment.

Undoubtedly the dark figure would soon possess the rooms on this side of the hall as well as the two across from them. Who could have lived in this room but a dark figure, he wondered. The room held but one window, high up on the stone wall which must allow very little light to enter it during the day. He could not think of a more depressing place, indeed his cell seemed cheery by comparison. Ernest had no idea that he was sitting in what had once been his sister-in-law's bedroom. He held his breath at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Ever so gently, he opened the door to see Jeftus moving towards the doors on the opposite side, crouched like a lion ready to pounce. His gnarled fist gently rapped upon the door and the door opened, a greenish light eking out into the hallway from the open portal. Jeftus entered quickly and door closed behind him. In the few days he had been here, he had noted a pronounced change in Jeftus; it was as if his body was being twisted as a blacksmith twisted iron. Even his "friend" the guard seemed to note the physical difference in the king. Because of Donna, Ernest knew what the change meant; there was nothing he could do for Jeftus, he was too far along the road he had chosen to descend upon.

A moment later, he could hear the voices quiet but audible. Yes, they were discussing the renewal of the war; there was no doubt about it. He thought of Alex and Marie and the children, the anxious hours debating the marriage, the pains that Alex had taken to be fair, all apparently for nothing. Jeftus had never intended for anything other than a time to regroup, using his sister as a pawn in his mad quest for power. He could not believe a man would speak so awfully about his own kin, but Jeftus did not even seem to consider his sister a person; she was merely a tool to be used and discarded. It was an informative few hours after which Jeftus left the dark figure's room and strode back down the hall, his face smug, his eyes filled with hate.

Ernest stood quietly for a short time in the room and then eased himself out and down the hall, heading back towards his cell. He would escape tomorrow; he and Donna needed to return home. Alex and the troops had to be warned.

***

The Sultan sat at the dinner table eyeing Fontaine with an amused indulgence.

"You are a mad man, captain. I mean no disrespect, but you are not in your senses."

"I merely disagree, your highness," replied Fontaine, "I believe this is a beautiful place."

"Ha," snapped the Sultan, dropping some chicken into his mouth. "This place is ugly, a square, solid, mass of stone with no soul. Nothing flows, nothing moves, even the flowers are stationary. No, my friend, structures should flow, should move, should have life, like a man!"

"Most fortresses I've visited are recommended to their task by the fact that they are stationary," replied Fontaine. "A flowing fortress seems to miss the point. Besides, a thing need not be in motion to make it beautiful."

"True, I will grant you that," replied the Sultan. "I remember when I met my first wife, she was standing perfectly still amongst one hundred other women, all brought for me to choose from. She shimmered, my dear captain, such a beautiful sight you have never seen."

"Sounds enchanting," smiled Fontaine.

"I immediately went up to her and kicked her," continued the Sultan. "She fell beautifully, gracefully. I commanded her to rise and I kicked her again. Three times she rose and three times I kicked her. She fell like a feather from the wings of a dove. But I would not propose to her until I knew that she was beautiful both in motion and in stillness. Now this place, maybe it has a beauty made of stillness, but it has no beauty of motion."

"You kicked your bride?" asked Fontaine.

"If you do not kick family, why did the gods give you feet?" asked the Sultan, gulping some wine and returning his attention to the captain. "Now, are you married?"

"No," replied Fontaine.

"And why not?" continued the Sultan. "Because you wish to marry a woman whom you will not kick, do not deny it! I will not kick her, you think; I will treat her as special and important, foolishness, that is all foolishness. Horses yes, I understand treating horses specially, horses are different, thoroughbreds, dancing horses, plow horses, all valuable, but women, it is insane. You kick a horse to make it go, but then why not kick women? They must go and do things for you and yet you would not kick them! You believe in inequality, my friend, treat one one way another another way, not me. I have thirteen wives, if I kick one, I make a note to kick all of the others. It avoids arguments. The same with my servants, they all deserved to be kicked."

The captain smiled and inwardly groaned. He had hoped to avoid another discussion on kicking but it was a subject that fascinated the man. He could turn any discussion to the subject and had for the last few days.

Fontaine's thoughts drifted to his crew. They had been well treated so far, but he had no idea how they would be received by the king. His men had encouraged him to play along with whatever the king wanted, all of them trusting that the captain and the new king's new bride would see to it that they were dealt with fairly. He knew they had placed the Lady Marie in an awkward position for which he was truly sorry.

Internationally speaking, however, they had placed the king in an even worse position. Still, Zambelia represented their best bet for a safe haven. With a grimace, he nodded as the sultan continued his lecture on kicking. What would happen if they let them stay but would not let them sail? What would he do to survive? The sea was all he had known since he was a boy; still, he had to think of his men, of what was best for all of them...

A messenger suddenly entered and bowed to the sultan, causing a pause in the lecture.

"I am pleased to announce that his majesty, King Alex, will wait upon your highness tomorrow afternoon. He apologizes for the delay and hopes that you are comfortable and well cared for."

The Sultan smiled pleasantly, "Please inform his majesty that I appreciate his most gracious hospitality and that I look forward to meeting him in person."

The messenger bowed and turned to Fontaine.

"Captain Fontaine, his majesty sends his compliments to you as well and has instructed me to report that your situation will be looked into as soon as he arrives."

The Captain grimaced, the words did not sound promising.

"Will the Lady Marie also be in attendance?"

"Yes, sir, her highness is accompanying his majesty."

Fontaine relaxed a bit as the messenger bowed and then withdrew.

Turning back to Fontaine, the Sultan smiled, "Do not worry my friend, I will speak to the king on your behalf, all will be well. Now where was I? Oh yes, you would kick a dog but not a servant?"

***

The royal progress wound regally down the cobblestone road towards the coast, cavalry in the lead, followed by a detachment of foot soldiers and then the king and his bride on horseback followed by courtiers and various nobles. The entire procession was stretched out over the course of almost a mile and as they approached each village a delegation and a mob were awaiting their arrival. So much, thought Alex, for keeping their journey swift and simple.

At the moment they were on a stretch of the road that offered a comfortable distance between villages, so that the group could relax from the constant scrutiny they attracted. Alex and Marie rode side by side, he on Samuel and she on a beautiful white horse with a long, flowing tail and mane. Jonathan rode a beautiful palomino, cantering along just behind his mother while Annalisse rode in a carriage with Lord Albert and Lady Stasha just behind them.

Count Bartran eased his horse forward and shyly offered Marie a rolled parchment, which she took with a questioning look. He responded with a smile and then without a word fell back behind the carriage. Marie opened the parchment as she rode and, noting that Alex had not noticed the exchange, began to read it.

Finishing the note, she rolled it back up and placed it in the sleeve of her traveling cloak, considering the message, unsure of how to act. It was a request for her to consider making the Lady Gertrude a member of her household, a more than reasonable request considering both the count's and his daughter's service to her. Marie recounted the ladies in waiting in her father's court and could barely contain her revulsion at the memory. Each woman had been chosen by her father as a mistress and each had been a willing participant in making her mother a cuckold. Her thoughts wandered to her own marriage with Robert. Robert was noted for conducting his dalliances in the open and she seethed at the memory of the pain and humiliation it had caused her and the children.

Glancing back to the riders behind the carriage, she saw the Countess Bartran with young Parker, the two of them speaking and laughing with several nearby riders, the picture of young courtiers in a grand mood. She noted the admiring glances the young men offered the countess. Examining Gertrude she could locate no flaw, she was so young and beautiful and had the added advantage of being close friends with Alex. The words of the women on the other side of the garden wall still haunted her and she bowed her head in thought.

The count had every right to make the request, but she could not deny the feeling that was rising within her. She thought she could trust Alex, had believed it yesterday during their passionate encounter, but now, in the light of day, she felt her resolve crumbling. Weren't all men alike? She glanced at him, noting that he was lost in thought as they rode onwards. What was he thinking? Was he thinking of what had happened yesterday, of the unspoken bond they had created?

Looking down at her hands, she tried to reassure herself, tried to be reasonable. Yesterday had happened as had all of their other nights together. He was either the greatest liar in the world or...

"You seem distracted Marie."

His statement interrupted her thoughts. Looking up, she met his eyes and for a moment, feeling the connection she had felt yesterday. How could he care so much or love her so tenderly? Was it all just an effort to convince her to trust him? How could she be sure...

"I have received a request from the Count Bartran," she replied softly, so that only he could hear her.

"What sort of request?" asked Alex, keeping his tone low and beyond the hearing of the others.

"He would like me to make his daughter a member of our household," replied Marie.

Alex frowned, why would he ask now? He had spoken to Parker about his situation, had Parker said anything to the count? Had Gertrude? He looked away uneasily.

"In my country," stated Marie softly, "a consort would have no say in who could be members of the royal household. She would run her household with the help of the servants provided, but..."

"As my consort, you can choose whoever you wish to have as a member of the household," replied Alex, trying to disguise his embarrassment that the subject had been broached. As a consort, Marie was entitled to have what would be termed "members of the royal household", women whom would wait on her and do her bidding. A Queen would have Ladies in Waiting, but as a consort, Marie would not be allotted that privilege.

"I would think that Stasha should be the first one considered for such an honor, don't you?" replied Marie. "Unless, of course, it would be beneath her, I would never wish to offend her..."

"I am sure Stasha would be honored to be so recognized," replied Alex, trying not to show his annoyance, "They should not have troubled you with this now..."

Marie put on a brave face, "I would be surprised if the Lady Gertrude would even be interested in such a position. I'm just afraid that I would bore her. She's so young and full of life... I find it hard to imagine that she would be interested in spending all of her time with someone so much older than her."

Alex shrugged, "Stasha is very good company, they are great friends..."

"I wasn't speaking of Stasha," replied Marie sullenly. "I meant me."

Alex looked at her, momentarily perplexed and then saw that his reaction was drawing the attention of those near them. Marie noted the others straining to hear and then saw Alex raise an eyebrow that caused the group to find other things of interest to study. After a moment, he spoke to her quietly.

"Nonsense Marie, if you stood side by side, people would think you were sisters and would be hard pressed to guess which was the older and which the younger."

She grimaced at the compliment, "So you think that it would be a good idea?"

"I think," replied Alex, "that it is something that we should not consider here and now. It is neither the time nor the place to make such a decision. I wish they had not bothered you about it now..."

"Very well," she replied, "perhaps we can address it when we return to home."

Turning from him, she mouthed the word, "Gertrude." Stop being petty, she warned herself and shaking her head, she tried to lose the idea from her mind. Her movements made her mount more lively which caused Alex to give Samuel a nudge to keep up with her. As he drew closer to her, she glanced at him; they had had no chance to speak about their afternoon encounter. He had rushed in and asked her if she knew the Sultan of Chanra and when she replied that she had only met him briefly, he had looked at her as she lay in bed as if torn as to what he should do. Finally, he had grimaced and rushed out again to arrange for the journey. He and Albert had worked well into the night making arrangements for today. Unable to stay awake, she had fallen into a deep sleep long before he had come to bed and this morning, they had left quickly, leaving no time for her to speak to him privately.

"You need not decide now," he murmured. "They should not have bothered you about it..."

"The count has been nothing but kind to me," she replied, detecting the annoyance in his voice. "He saved me and the children a great deal of embarrassment, Alex."

"Both he and Gertrude have my appreciation," he stated. "Now is just not the time nor place to consider the subject; that is all."

With a desire to change the subject, he looked back at Jonathan on his golden horse.

"Jonathan, do you like him?" Alex called over his shoulder, gesturing towards the horse.

Jonathan, who had been happily day dreaming snapped out of his reverie, "Yes, sire, I like him very much."

"A beautiful animal," replied Alex, reigning Samuel closer towards Jonathan and the carriage. "What do you think, Albert?" he asked, knowing full well what Albert thought.

Albert smiled, "Gold Pillar is the horse's name, sire, a wonderful animal, full of spirit, but not temper. He has strength and speed and the Lord Jonathan handles him beautifully, he is an excellent horseman."

Turning, Alex looked at Marie.

"What do you think, Marie?"

Marie smiled, "It is a beautiful animal, sire, but I know very little about horses."

Alex squinted at her, "For someone who knows very little about horses, I cannot help but notice you handle your horse extremely well. Still, I want your opinion, Marie; do you agree that it is a fine horse?"

"Yes, sire," she replied with a slight smile, "it is a fine horse."

Looking to Albert again, the two men exchanged a nod.

"Very well," Alex continued, "the horse is yours, Jonathan."

Jonathan's eyes grew wide, "Mine?"

"Yes," replied Alex. "You will be responsible for his care and he will be your horse when you train and when you ride. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Oh yes, sire," replied Jonathan, overjoyed. "I have handled horses before, I can care for him, I am sure!"

"You are giving him the horse, sire?" asked Marie as she attempted to restrain a smile.

"Does it make you happy, Marie?" he asked quietly.

"Very much so," she replied, no longer attempting to restrain her smile as she reveled in Jonathan's excitement.

"Then yes, I am giving him the horse," replied Alex. Turning to Jonathan, he continued, "You ride wonderfully, Jonathan. When she is a bit older, we must teach your sister to ride. With practice and a good deal of luck, she may become as good a rider as your mother."

"Mother is an excellent rider," replied Jonathan. "I have heard that she out rode the men when she used to go hunting."

"Is she as good a shot as she is a rider?" asked Alex.

"From what I have been told, yes sire," replied Jonathan. "My former horse master told me that there were few men who could equal mother with a bow."

"Thank you for the warning, Jonathan," replied Alex. "Beautiful and dangerous, I will have to be most careful..."

"Thank you, sire, thank you for such a magnificent gift," said Jonathan, patting the horse gently on its neck.

"I am sure that you will take good care of him," replied Alex.

Marie drew closer, "Are you sure, Alex?"

Looking out over the road he nodded, "I owe you more than that, Marie...much more than that..."

### Chapter 21

The floor seemed especially hard when the guard awoke with a start. What was he doing on the floor? Pulling himself into a sitting position, he looked about and saw three more guards peacefully napping as a rat chewed thoughtfully on the leather scabbard of another guard snoring quietly in a seated position by the stairway.

Pulling himself to his feet, the guard stumbled over and kicked the other guards on the feet.

"Here then, wake up you lot," he grouched. "What happened?"

The men rubbed their eyes, squinting at one another as they began making their way to their feet.

"Check on the prisoners," barked the one who had woken first.

The guards fanned out throughout the dungeon, finding all of the doors locked and secured, but all of the prisoners gone. Cries of "ESCAPE" began to ring throughout the dungeon, bringing more guards and raising the volume of noise.

The captain of the jailors descended the long staircase, yelling at the guards, trying to ascertain which of the prisoners had escaped. Upon learning that all of the prisoners were gone, he stumbled back onto the lone chair.

"It'll be the death of us all," he wailed. "How could this happen?"

"Excuse me," called out a small voice. "I have a message for you."

The great din died as suddenly as it had erupted as a small child with golden hair carelessly weaved his way forward from the door of one of the cells. Approaching the captain, he smiled pleasantly as if they were about to go on a picnic.

"I have a message for you," he repeated, smiling up at the guards who stood around him, too shocked to react.

"A message?" asked the captain. Turning to one of the guards he roared, "What is this?"

As the guard shrugged, the young boy continued.

"Your king will see to it that all of you are killed for letting the prisoners escape," he stated happily. "If you wish to survive, go now out the main entrance to the castle. Run to your homes, gather your families and leave immediately, they will not capture you, but you must leave immediately."

"Where are all the prisoners?" roared the captain, rising up as if to strike the boy.

"Leave now," replied the child, "in a few moments, it will be too late."

The captain reached for the boy but he disappeared into thin air. For a moment the guards stared at one another and then, as if operated by one mind, they dashed for the stairs and headed out of the dungeon, seeking the main doorway and freedom.

The guards in the halls above were so startled by the uproar that they did not have time to react as their fellow guards stampeded out into the night air. The guards ran in every direction, each seeking their home, panicked into obeying the boy's command.

The guard whom Ernest had spoken too ran all the way to his home at the far side of the village. Waking his wife and parents, he told them to gather what they could while he hitched their horses to their wagon. When they started to protest, he told them he would explain later but now they had to leave immediately.

Running to his barn he threw open the door and jumped back upon seeing the small, golden haired child standing in the middle of the barn, a lantern in his hand.

"You do not have to make up your mind now," said the small child happily, "but if you should decide that you wish to accept the merchant's offer, drop this lantern into a well and I will come to you and tell you what you must do. In the meantime, head for your brother's farm in the mountains, you will be safe there."

Placing the lantern on the floor, the child once again vanished before his eyes. Grabbing the lantern, the guard wrapped it in his cloak and threw it in the back of his wagon as he grabbed his horses and gear and prepared to flee. No time to think of being rich now, all he could do now was run away!

***

Marie awoke in the middle of the night and in the moonlight peered down at her slumbering husband. Alex lay on his back, finally asleep. He had tossed and turned, it was not at all like him, but she thought it must be his uneasiness at meeting the Sultan tomorrow.

He was such a big man, wide at the shoulders, his nightshirt draped across his large frame, an impressive figure even in repose. Rising slowly, she slipped out of the bed and wrapping her robe around her, moved to the large doors that led out onto a stone terrace. Opening the doors softly, she moved out onto the terrace and peered out over the castle courtyard where they had stopped for the night. In the town below she could look down at the silent streets bathed in the moonlight. She lowered herself onto a stone bench and enjoyed the light breeze blowing over her.

She could never have imagined how her life had changed. She knew what her brother had intended; in her country a royal consort was nothing but the king's whore, made to endure his advances while he awaited a woman worthy to become his queen. Though she had been assured that it was not the case in Zambelia, that the royal consort was indeed the king's wife, she had prepared herself to suffer the worst.

When she had married Robert, she did not care that he was a Duke, all she had ever wanted was a family and she suddenly realized that she was closer to that now than she had ever been when she had married for love or had had her children. She looked over her shoulder at the door and thought of Alex, how could it be? Was it possible that he loved her?

She did not know why, but her mind turned to Count Bartran's request. Robert would have been angry with her for not answering immediately, especially if it would have brought someone even half as lovely as Lady Gertrude within arm's reach. Lady Gertrude and Robert, no, no matter how jealous she was of Lady Gertrude, she would never wish THAT upon her...

"Stop it," she scolded herself. "They are friends. She has been nothing but kind and generous to you and the children..."

She thought of Robert, of their courtship, how he had pursued her and romanced her, inundating her with gifts and promises. She had dreamt of their life together, thought of the children they would have and of their growing old together. She was young then, what had she known about love? It was the love of a young, inexperienced maiden, of dreams and promises. All of her illusions, her dreams, all of her hopes had been shattered, destroyed with the realization that the man she had married was evil. After their first night together as man and wife, she realized that her life would be an endless horror, that her situation would make her helpless and vulnerable for the rest of her life. Even now her life with Robert tormented her, angered her...

That painful time enveloped her now and she was overwhelmed by the memory of her endless despair. Despite how they had been conceived, each child had brought her a short lived joy that died as she realized that she now had to defend yet another life. She pulled her robe more tightly about her and sighed. Looking up at the doors, she gasped, surprised to see Alex standing there, quietly examining her.

"Did I wake you?" she asked quietly.

"No," he replied softly, advancing towards her. He had decided that he could not keep a secret from her, that he must tell her what he was planning but she looked so sad that he hesitated.

"I want to speak with you," she said quietly as he lowered himself down onto the bench next to her.

"I'm listening," he replied, intrigued by her expression.

She took a deep breath and let it out. Say it, she told herself, say it now or you will never be brave enough again...

"I prayed for my first husband to die."

Alex absorbed the words, but they did not seem to make any sense. Was she blaming herself for her husband's death?

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Turning to face him, she finally felt that she could speak with someone about what had happened and if she did not do it now, she would never have that opportunity again.

"When I married Robert, I was in love," she began uneasily, "or what I thought was love. He was handsome and attentive and he courted me with beautiful words and gifts. I never looked forward to anything as much as I looked forward to my wedding day..."

"Unlike this time?" asked Alex softly.

"Yes...No...I'll get to that," she replied, "please..." He gestured for her to continue. "On our wedding night, I left the wedding feast and prepared for my first night of love. Robert came into our room, drunk and angry and proceeded to beat me for having left the party." Alex almost spoke but she stayed him with an outstretched hand, "No, please, let me finish. I thought he did it because he was drunk and I thought it was my fault for having displeased him, but I learned that drink did not matter, what I did would not matter... Robert was evil, as evil a man as ever lived. The next night, he attacked me in our rooms and forced me..." she turned away and took a deep breath, "forced me to accept him. I lived a nightmare the entire time we were married, during the day I lived in fear and at night, I was degraded and humiliated."

"When Jonathan was born, things grew worse. He hated him, hated his own son because he was small and sickly and as he grew and showed that he was sensitive and loving, he hated him even more. He sent him away when he was only five, had him taken from me. Through a maid servant, I wrote to Jonathan every day and he wrote back to me, it was our only contact. After a years time, Robert found out and had the woman who had helped me put to death. Until my brother announced our coming here, I had not seen nor heard from my son in four years." She gulped but forced herself to continue, speaking more rapidly. "When Annalisse was born, he beat me so severely that on two occasions they thought I would die. He said that I had disgraced him by having a useless girl and he never spoke to her except to abuse or embarrass her. He consented to having her stay with me, but she had to remain absolutely quiet whenever her father was near or she would be beaten. Most of the time, I hid her in her room, it was the only way I could protect her."

"Marie..."

"Let me finish," she snapped, placing her hand on his chest and gaining strength from the power that she felt there. "When it was found that I was with child again, I tried to hide it for as long as I could. Luckily, he was too busy whoring with my brother to take much notice of me...I was six months along before he realized that he there would be another birth. He ignored me until one of his cohorts remarked that I looked the same as I did when I gave birth to Annalisse. The idea of having another daughter drove him mad and he flew at me in a rage. He dragged me from our rooms, tore the clothes from me and beat me before all of the servants. His last blow struck me while I was standing at the top of a set of stairs. I fell down the stairs..." her hand went to her left side, touching the scar, but this time, she did not flinch. "I broke my ribs, my leg...the baby died and so did I... I suppose I had died long before that, but it was then that I knew I was dead. I had to go on for Jonathan, for Annalisse, but for me...for me life was over. I was a ghost, dead..."

With a hard swallow, she forced herself to continue, "When my brother told me that I must be the king's consort, I only cared that I would be reunited with my children. I would do whatever I could to see that they grew up in a better place...anywhere other than that vile, wicked world that their father had created for them. When I met you, I did not care about you and had no wish to care about you..."

"Marie..."

"Please, no," she said, tears streaming from her eyes, but her voice steady. "let me finish, Alex... Let me say it all the way through so I will never have to say it again..."

Alex placed his hand on the one that she had pressed to his chest and nodded.

"I never wanted to care about you and I did not care if you cared about me. As you know, I didn't trust you and I didn't care if I ever did. Why would I ever trust a man? How could I? Then, then I saw you with the children, saw how you treated them, saw how you held my daughter in your arms, how you encouraged my son...I could not deny even to myself how you acted towards them..."

"The first time we...the first time you touched me, I wanted you just to get it over with, to seal the bargain we had made in the garden that morning. I was ready to perform my duty and suffer in silence. It was a chore, like washing the floor or cooking or cleaning, but you..." She turned and looked into his eyes, the tears still flowing but her voice growing ever calmer, "You made love to me, Alex... You made love to me like I was that girl, the one who could still have hopes and dreams, the one who had lived so long ago... And then, the other day, when you found me in our room, I thought you would be repulsed, to see me...broken and old in the light of day...but you loved me, you cherished me..."

She looked down for a moment, summoning her strength and then, raising her eyes, stared into his as she spoke.

"I love you, Alex," she said in a whisper. "I trust you and I love you and I want you to know that I will love you and trust you until the day I die."

Slowly, Alex pulled her to him and held her in the moonlight. For a very long time, cradling her gently against his chest, listening to her soft breathing, feeling both her heartbeat and the warmth of her silent tears cascading down his chest, he said nothing. Then, ever so gently, he lifted her into his arms, lifting her as if she were a child and carried her back to their bed. Laying her down, he kissed her gingerly on the forehead, sliding into the bed next to her.

"I love you, Marie," he said softly, gently brushing her cheek with his finger. He knew he should say more, but he could only repeat, "I love you, Marie."

Reaching up to his night shirt, she pulled him to her and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him as tightly as she was able.

***

"They have all escaped," stated the dark figure. "The prisoners, the guards AND the Lord Ernest, all escaped..."

Jeftus pulled his robe closer, feeling a chill emanating from the dark figure.

"You promised me Lord Ernest DEAD! "Do nothing to him", you said, "I will tell you the time" you said and now, WE HAVE NOTHING!"

The figure gave him a twisted smile, "I did not see his white magic, I will know what to look for next time... As to the guards, we will hunt them down and they will all die..."

Jeftus turned away in disgust, "You enjoy death..."

"You enjoy death as much as I do," hissed the dark figure. "Don't feign discomfort with it for my benefit, I know better than to believe you..."

"What of your grand plan?" spat Jeftus, wheeling about, his eyes filled with anger. "What has it gained us? Nothing..."

"Not nothing," laughed the figure, dark eyes glowing an ugly red, "for soon we will have another war."

Jeftus took a step back, "A war? How?"

"The Sultan survived my shipwreck," laughed the figure. "He and King Alex will sign a new pact seeking to remove my influence from you. If you refuse their request, they will attack."

"If the Sultan aligns himself with Zambelia, we have lost our last ally," stated Jeftus. "Who will assist us?"

"We need no assistance, Jeftus," replied the figure, "not for what we have planned."

"I plan to re-conquer my lost provinces," began Jeftus. "If the Sultan and King of Zambelia are believed, no one will assist us! My armies are depleted, my treasury almost empty..." Jeftus shook his head. "You had me pull back my troops, their army is on THIS side of the mountains, we have no natural barriers to stop their advance!"

"I have no use for your lost provinces," spat the figure. "I only desire war, death and destruction; that is what makes me stronger! Who cares about a few measly human lives? I will grow stronger, Jeftus, I will become all powerful!"

"Death and destruction without gain is pointless," snapped Jeftus. "I agreed to have you here to bring me victory, to vanquish my enemies!"

"I came here," seethed the dark figure, "to bring death, pestilence and destruction. What do I care about your petty concerns? Now I have brought us to the brink of war and I will see that we have it."

Jeftus stared in terror, "What of my kingdom?"

The figure smiled, "You, Jeftus, have become a citizen of MY kingdom..."

***

"I must say, you are a pleasant fellow, but a stupid man and a bad king," commented the Sultan happily. Reaching for an apple on the table before him, he never saw Count Bartran grasp his sword nor Alex place a restraining hand on his arm as he replied.

"So I've been told," stated Alex calmly, restraining Albert and Parker with a look. "I am at a bit of a loss, however, to know why you would think so..."

"You want to believe the best of King Jeftus," laughed the Sultan without a care. "All he wants to do is destroy you, my friend, to rip your heart out and you want to be "fair". I had heard many things, my friend, many things about Jeftus and his court, but I had not believed them until this happened. No, I said to myself that no reasonable man could be filled with such hatred, but now, I see that it is so. Meanwhile you, YOU, who have been forced to go to war with him, who have had to spend millions in golds to fight and subdue him, you say that he must be treated well, even respectfully. I tell you, you are a bad king! Kings should punish their enemies, crush them! Do you think he would have treated you or your great father with mercy if he had been successful? Why, my friend, he would not even deign to kick you himself..." The Sultan waved a dismissive hand at Alex and then, looking back at him, smiled. "You bring his sister, HIS sister here and treat her as if she were something to prize. I hope at least you now realize that she must be tortured!"

"No," replied Alex quietly. "Besides being my wife, our laws do not allow us to torture women."

"Bah," snapped the Sultan. "She is the sister of your enemy! I tell you, if she were mine she would never see the light of another day! I concede that she DOES have the good sense to hate Jeftus, but what of it, everyone who meets him feels the same way and she knew him for so long, it is only natural. No, I do not trust her; at the very least you should throw her in a hole and fill it until only her head is visible. That would be kind and merciful, but even then, I would have her kicked every day!"

"I agree that Jeftus is an easy man to dislike," stated Alex, "but my wife will be in no way punished for her brother's sins. She too has suffered because of him and yet she still seeks to help her people. I am convinced that she knew nothing about our marriage being a pretext to buy time to begin another war. We both understand that now that his actions have failed, now that I HAVE married his sister and you have survived his attack, it will only be a matter of time before he tries something else."

"We must strike him now," replied the Sultan. "The passes are open, your armies are aligned on his borders and he has pulled his own armies back from the frontier. You and I will be allies and I have no doubt that all of the other kingdoms who fought at your side will join with us now. Your father would not hesitate, King Alex and neither must you!"

Alex looked at Albert and the Count, both of whom nodded their agreement.

"I see the logic of in your words. It is not for our sake alone, but for the sake of all of the kingdoms that we must stop Jeftus now before it is too late."

"If I were you sire, instead of my magnificent self, I would send him a bag containing the heads of his sister and her children and then I would attack immediately!"

Alex brooded a moment more, "I will never harm my wife or her children...What we must do will cause them pain enough I know, but I see no other recourse. We must stop Jeftus before this evil becomes too great."

"Spoken like a true man and a warrior," replied the Sultan as he gave Alex a hardy slap on the back. "Then we will agree to a treaty. I will return to Chandra and make ready..."

"I will order four of my fastest ships to bring you back to your native land," replied Alex. "I will send messages to our allies explaining that we will attack within the next two weeks and ask again for their assistance."

"Good, good. Then our business is settled and we are like brothers...Oh," snapped the Sultan, "I almost forgot; this fellow Fontaine and his crew, you must do nothing bad to them. They saved my life; I will see to it that they are rewarded with their own. If you wish to keep them without penalty, I will allow it, but if not, send them home with me and they may join my service."

Alex nodded, "I will leave the decision to the Captain and his crew, but I promise you that no harm will come to them. They will either join my fleet or be sent to join yours."

The Sultan crunched loudly on his apple and smiled at Alex as he chewed.

"You are a strange man," he stated finally. "I like you. You are a terrible king, you do not even kick your counselors, but I like you all the same!"

***

A tall thin man in raggedy clothes and his short, fat elderly wife drove their cart up to the small house on the hill and reined to a halt. Planting a kiss on his wife's cheek, the thin man jumped to the ground and opened the gate to the neat barnyard beyond. His wife gave the reins a flick and brought the cart to the barn door while her husband closed and secured the gate behind her.

Opening the barn door, the man leaned against its edge and smiled at the woman, "It is good to be back in our lord's domain."

She gave him a sad smile, "It is always good to be back in his majesty's kingdom, but after being together for so long, it is always so hard to part."

The thin man swung up onto the cart and took her hands into his own, "It is no easier for me, you know. But each moment apart brings us closer to the next moment we will share together."

The woman offered him a sad laugh as she drove the cart into the barn, "Your logic is undeniable, but makes things no easier..."

The man jumped from the cart, a resigned look in his eyes. As he closed the barn door, he threw off his cap and began to shrink, slowly transforming from a tall, thin man to a chubby man of average height. He smiled as he watched the plump woman remove her cloak and transform into his raven hair beauty before his eyes.

"Donna," he said softly, "we could solve this problem, you know. Alex would not say no, I promise you..."

"You can't ask him, Ernest," replied Donna sadly. "He would never say no to you, but what would happen? I would never be accepted at court, a farm girl...sooner or later they would find out about my abilities and then what? You know they would say I used them to trap you..."

"They will say nothing..." began Ernest.

Moving to him, she hugged him, "Ernest, your brother is a new king with a new family, trying to find his way, you've said so yourself. He has been very kind to me; I would not ask him for more than what he has already done for me." Ernest went to speak but she stopped him with a kiss. "No my love, no, I would never dream of it, not now."

"Very well," stated Ernest softly. "I will not speak with him about it yet, but Donna, I want to marry you and I will ask him."

Donna held him tightly, "Not now my love. Now go to him, I have had you with me for a long time and he needs you."

Ernest grew concerned, he knew that tone.

"What do you see my love?"

"Much has happened since we have been gone, both in the kingdom and in his new family. You need to help him, Ernest; he needs you in so many ways..."

Ernest nodded, he knew that Donna could not give him specifics; it was part of the code by which those with her powers lived.

"Is he in danger?" he asked, not wishing to push her too far.

"Go my love," she said, leading him towards the stall where his horse was waiting. "Promise me that you will be careful, there is so much danger ahead..."

"I promise my angel, always, my love," he said, lifting his saddle into place.

"You must go to the Lady Marie," she said softly. "You can't understand this now, but you will; when you need to do this, you will know it is time, do not doubt yourself, just do as I tell you. Go to her and tell her that she must continue to trust your brother, her happiness, the happiness of her children depends upon it. Remember, she must trust him! Now, go."

Swiftly, she opened the barn door and ran to the gate to open it before he thundered past. Alex needed him and he had much to share about his journey. He would not tell her, but he would ask Alex. He would ask Alex for permission to marry her, he loved her and Alex must know it, even if now he must help his brother. He might be crazy, but he knew when he was in love.

Donna watched him as he grew smaller and smaller, racing away from her, away from them. She closed her eyes on her tears, knowing that he would ask Alex for her hand.

"So much death, so much destruction," she murmured. "No one's happiness is important now, my love. Oh, be careful my love..." Overcome, she fell to the ground and wept.

### Chapter 22

Alex stood at the end of the pier and watched the four ships as they sailed out of the mouth of Jessica's Cove, headed for deep water. His time with the Sultan of Chanra had been interesting, to put it politely, but he was glad that it was over. They had forged a new treaty and had agreed on a course of action. Jeftus must be stopped or he would annihilate his entire country.

The Sultan had wanted to send an assassin to kill Jeftus, but Alex had convinced him that with Jeftus gone, the dark force would be left unchecked and they did not know how it might react. Better to remove the dark force and settle with the king later. The Sultan reluctantly agreed, but Alex knew that their time would be limited to accomplish their goals. The Sultan, as well as having no respect for servants, women, animals or other people in general, had no patience.

A messenger had arrived to inform him that his brother had returned with urgent news and would meet him on his way back to Wharton. He was confident that Ernest would be able to give them a better idea of what they were fighting against.

"Now that our guest has gone, has your majesty made any decision regarding how we will handle the crew of the Talon?" asked Lord Albert.

Turning to his friend he pondered the question.

"Her highness believes that we can take the crew and ship into our navy without worrying about their abilities or loyalties, but I am not so sure. I must say that I like Captain Fontaine, but I'm not sure that we would want a mutinous crew in our navy."

"I would think that it would set a bad precedent, not matter how justified their rebellion was," replied Albert. "Perhaps we could separate ship and crew and over time, separate the crew from one another."

Alex frowned as they headed down the pier. "Perhaps we could find another use for them and the ship."

"Another use?" asked Albert.

"Perhaps we could use the ship and crew strictly for diplomatic missions, at least until we have settled affairs in Vesek. Let us speak with Fontaine and see what he thinks of the idea."

Parker met the two men as made their way back to the beginning of the pier.

"Any orders milord?" asked Parker.

"We need to send out messengers, Parker," stated Alex. "We need to send a messenger to our Minister of the Navy telling him to meet us upon our arrival at Wharton to discuss the Talon situation. Also I need to speak to the commanders of our forces; we will need to act as quickly as possible now that the passes are open. We attack in two weeks, we cannot delay a moment."

"Yes, milord," replied Parker. Drawing closer, he lowered his voice, "Might I have a moment of your time, sire?"

"Yes, but please make it quick," replied Alex, gesturing Albert towards the horses.

Stepping away with Alex, Parker spoke in a hushed tone, "The Lady Gertrude spoke to me, milord about the situation..."

"Parker," interrupted Alex, "I am afraid that the situation will have to wait until we have dealt with Jeftus, I am sorry."

"The lady will be most disappointed," stated Parker

"I understand the lady's disappointment, but the situation must be handled properly. With war imminent, I cannot afford to lose focus on personal matters, no matter how ardently I desire them. Please ask the lady to understand and grant me a little more time. Will you do that for me Parker?"

Parker's features showed none of the turmoil he felt within.

"I will relay your message, your highness. I am sure the lady will understand."

"Thank you, Parker," replied Alex, forcing a smile. "Come; let us be on our way."

***

Marie and Annalisse walked in the garden with Captain Fontaine, guards trailing them at a respectful distance.

"Do you think his highness might consider a request to join his royal navy?" asked Fontaine.

"I would think it best not to ask him anything yet, Captain," replied Marie. "The Sultan has gone today, I am sure he will give you some idea of what he plans are when he returns."

"I doubt he would say no," stated Annalisse suddenly. "He does not like to say no."

"Hush, Annalisse," said Marie. Turning to Fontaine she continued, "I am sure that you can appreciate the many issues his highness is facing at the moment. With the Sultan gone, I am sure he will turn his attention to your situation next."

"I do not wish to be impertinent, your highness, please forgive me for being so anxious. When one is in trouble, every minute seems an hour, I do not mean to be impatient of course," replied Fontaine.

"There is no need to apologize, Captain," she said with a smile. "I know how it feels to be in trouble. If it had not been for you and for Count Bartran, I would have never been able to hold my head up in this country after our disgraceful arrival here. I assure you that I have not forgotten what you did and neither has his majesty."

"I have heard that his highness is a reasonable man," said Fontaine in a confidential tone. "If anyone would be able to verify the rumor, it would be you, milady. Is it so?"

Marie favored him with a brilliant smile, "It is not so, my dear Captain, not in the least." Fontaine stared at her, perplexed. With a laugh, she continued, "No reasonable man is as kindhearted or generous, no reasonable man is so good or humble, no reasonable man doubts himself so much or cares for others so greatly. His highness is the least reasonable man I have ever met. I know his father was called "The Great" and indeed he must have been from all that I have heard, but his son will gain a more difficult name to earn, "The Good"." Taking Fontaine's arm, she steered him back towards the fortress, "I tell you, do not worry. Your fate is in the hands of the best of men, of that, have no doubt."

***

The two guards standing outside of the king's audience chamber snapped to attention as Jeftus entered the hallway. To their surprise, both men felt a sudden wave of nausea sweep over them as the hallway filled with a horrible odor, each barely able to maintain his composure.

Eying the soldier to his left, Jeftus spoke abruptly, "Go and get my generals. We will attack the roads leading to the mountain passes the day after tomorrow."

The soldier turned and stared at Jeftus for a moment before responding. It was the king, of that there could be no doubt, but something was different. His face seemed to glow darkly, as if lit by a candle that produced black flame. His eyes were filled with a hatred that made the soldier quake.

"Yes, milord," replied the man, anxious to end the discussion and get away as quickly as possible.

"You," growled the King to the remaining soldier as the first one fled. "Double the guards and send for my tax collectors. The people will pay for having failed me last time; everyone will pay for having failed me. No money in the treasury? We will soon remedy that!"

The guard looked at Jeftus in terror, sickened by what he saw. It was the king, but something else as well.

"Yes, milord, at once," he replied, running to leave the king's presence.

The dark figure peered at the men through Jeftus' eyes and then looked inward at Jeftus' suffocating will.

"There will be destruction," he whispered to Jeftus, "and you will be the cause. You will stand upon a heap of bodies, you will taste blood, you will learn the true ways of hate."

The dark figure turned his attention to the world outside of Jeftus' body. He would call for the servants after his meeting with the generals. What use was being a king if he could not use his station to ruin others? Not all of the servants were old and ugly, he laughed, but he would make them wish that they were. Degradation added to horror, what could be better, what could satisfy him more?

Turning inward he could see Jeftus dying; soon there would not even be the token resistance of a creature hoping to live. No, soon he would be Jeftus completely. How history would curse his name, curse his line for a thousand years. The dark figure smiled as he watched the pale light grow dark and begin to turn cold.

"They will hate YOU, Jeftus! You will be the cause of their misery, of a misery unknown before your birth! The hatred of you will let me manipulate them for thousands of years! What fun I will have, how glorious it all will be!"

### Chapter 23

"Your most beloved majesty, I swear that I only sent an emissary to King Jeftus to seek after your health," squirmed the Lord Chamberlain. "I have spent my life, oh magnificent one, in constant fear of any illness upsetting you."

"As your sovereign, I seek after the health of all of my subjects," replied the Sultan with a smile. "As for you, my friend, you shall no longer have to worry about your health for I have ordered the royal executioner to remove your head from your shoulders so that your health shall never be impaired again."

A massive guard stepped up behind the terrified Lord Chamberlain.

"But my liege, I had nothing but the best of intentions in my heart, I had only your best interests, oh magnificent one..."

"Goodbye," smiled the Sultan amiably, "and good health."

The guard took the Lord Chamberlain by the scruff of the neck and led him out of the audience chamber. The Sultan clapped his hands and two servants appeared and fell on their faces before him.

"Go as my messenger," cried the Sultan. "Get me the leaders of my troops and of my navy." One of the men rose and ran to obey.

"Come closer," commanded the Sultan to the remaining man.

The man strode closer, "Yes, oh son of the sun."

The Sultan kicked him in the stomach, doubling him over.

"Never wait for others to do my bidding," stated the Sultan. "You must be first, never second. You are proud, the Lord Chamberlain was proud, now he is shorter by a head. Remember that and learn!"

The first man returned leading the commander of the Sultan's armies. The commander was a tall, self important man with an enormous, black mustache, carefully groomed beneath a hooked nose. His eyes burned a violent black and his hair lay flat upon his head and cascaded down his back to his shoulder blades. He wore a tunic with a huge scimitar hanging from the sash wrapped about his waist. Approaching the Sultan, he knelt and cried out, "That the gods have spared you, oh one worthy of worship. Command your servant that I might obey!"

The Sultan sat upon his throne and offered the commander a smile.

"You will have much work to do," he stated formally. "We will soon attack the Kingdom of Vesek."

The commander frowned in confusion, "I do not understand, oh magnificent one. Are we not allied with the Kingdom of Vesek?"

The Sultan rose in anger and immediately kicked the commander to the floor, "Fool! Are we allied with the man who attempted to kill me?"

"Attempted to kill you, oh son of the sun?" asked the commander from the floor. "This I did not know, oh greatest of greats! I had been told that a wave had capsized your vessel. I will have the dog flogged who lied to me..."

"A wave did capsize my vessel," stated the Sultan. "It was done by evil magic and it was done upon the order of the King of Vesek. When the leader of our fleet arrives, you will prepare with him to take our armies to the shores of Vesek. You will bring me the king and I will have him executed here for my pleasure!"

"As my lord commands," shouted the commander.

"But most magnificent one," said a voice. "May I remind you of the treaty you just signed with the King of Zambelia?"

The Sultan turned to see one of his servants, the one who had said nothing in order not to bother him when he was sick, prostrate on the floor to his side.

"What did you say?" roared the Sultan.

"Oh most perfect of perfect, forgive my voice," said the man. "You have signed a treaty with the King of Zambelia saying that you would attack the wretch of Vesek together with him, your armies together in glory. Oh most magnificent, far be it from you to go back on your word, to change your sacred bond once offered."

The Sultan considered it, "Get me a messenger!"

The man he had kicked before flew to his side and fell to his knees. "Speak my lord and I will as the wind go and deliver any message you command!"

"You will go to the King of Zambelia," stated the Sultan. "You will tell him that I, the Sultan of Chanra, am preparing for war with King Jeftus. Tell him that my troops will attack our common enemy upon the new moon. Our commander will communicate with him to tell him of where we will strike and together, we will gain a glorious victory!"

The messenger rose and ran from the royal presence. Moving to the man still prostate on the ground, the Sultan bid him arise. The man rose and prepared to be kicked. To his surprise, the Sultan smiled.

"You are brave and honest," stated the Sultan. "You deserve your reward. I will marry you to the daughter of my wife, Sutaza."

"Sutaza?" asked the man. "I do not know this wife, oh magnificent one."

"I sent her away many years ago," stated the Sultan. "She gave birth to the very ugliest of my daughters."

"A very ugly daughter?" asked the man, confused.

"Yes," stated the Sultan reasonably. "You may marry a daughter of mine for your honesty, but an ugly one because you made the mistake of interrupting me. Welcome to the family!"

***

"And you are certain, milord, of what you have told us," questioned Albert.

The men gathered in the king's study stared at Ernest, each anxious to hear his reply. It was war yet again and it held for each of them frightening implications. The commanders and leaders waited for Ernest to reply, each certain that he was telling them the truth.

"Have no doubt, Lord Albert," replied Ernest. "I saw the creature for myself. This is no dark wizard, for even dark wizards maintain a human shape, no matter their powers. This is a dark force more evil than anything we can understand. I was able to escape, but I fear that nothing can be done for Jeftus, he has joined forces with something he does not understand."

"What of her highness and the children?" asked Count Bartran quietly. "Is there any chance..."

"The Dragon King has assured us that her highness and the children are safe, you may be assured," stated Alex. "Jeftus, however, is almost certainly lost. From what Ernest has told us, we know that the creature does not seek conquest and glory as Jeftus does, it seeks only destruction. We must act before it becomes more powerful."

"Will we be able to destroy it?" asked Albert. "We are but men..."

"We will need assistance," replied Ernest. "We must speak to the Dragon King and our other allies. We must warn them and seek their assistance..."

"As you all know, the Sultan of Chanra is our ally now," stated Alex. "His commander has sent me a message that the Sultan's armies will land at the port of Narday behind our lines and march with us towards Jeftus' castle. I have sent word to our commanders in the field that they must not interfere with the Sultan's troops and that we will be sending more instructions shortly."

"If the dark force now controls Jeftus, it will seek the way to create the greatest misery," stated Ernest. "I have no doubt that it will make Jeftus attack our armies, it will not sit on the defensive and wait for us to act."

"Which means that we must invade Vesek," stated Count Bartran somberly.

"Lord Atwater, you are our Lord Admiral," began Alex. "Are we prepared to block their ports?"

Lord Atwater was a small man, clean shaven and immaculately dressed in his naval uniform. He rose and spoke in a clear, high pitched voice.

"Sire, I have already ordered part of our fleet to blockade the remaining ports. I have held back our transport ships in case you wish to dispatch a force, or forces behind the enemy lines."

"You have met with Captain Fontaine and the men of the Talon?" asked Alex.

"Yes sire," he replied. "They are most anxious to prove themselves, but they understand your desire and wish me to convey their happy obedience in doing as you have asked. They will act as a messenger ship for our forces behind the actively engaged fleet."

"Very well," replied Alex. "I have ordered our armies forward through the mountain passes. Tomorrow, I leave to join them with Lord Ernest..."

"Is that wise, sire?" asked Count Bartran. "We do not know the extent of the power of this creature..."

"Perhaps, Lord, you might remain here," agreed Albert. "There will be much to do here..."

"Which is why I am leaving you and the Count here," stated Alex.

"But sire," smiled the Count persuasively, "there are certain things that a minister cannot do; things that only the sovereign can approve."

"You will do the best you can do until I return," stated Alex. "I do not want you to seek my wife's permission regarding matters of state. Understand that this in no way means implies any mistrust on my part. I act this way because if all goes well, no one will care who made the decisions, but if all goes badly, people will blame our failures on her because of her lineage. I will not take a chance with her or the children. You may consult her as you would me, but in no way is anyone to think that she was responsible for any action."

A murmur broke out around the table.

"Sire, I mean no disrespect," stated Duke Mayfield, his loud, low voice bringing the room to silence. He was a large, heavy set man with heavy features and sparse, dark hair. "If I may, sire, perhaps it would be best to safe guard your consort at some secure location until the end of hostilities. I mean no disrespect to the lady, but we do not know what we will be fighting, things could go very badly sire, we are all aware of that, but the common people, they will not understand..."

"I trust her highness," replied Alex simply. "She will not interfere with our work and there is no where I can send her where she and the children will be better protected than they are here. I understand your concerns, but my decision stands. Now gentlemen, we all have much work to do. We leave tomorrow morning at three and we wait for no one. I want to be at the front in three days time. There will be no sleep and time only for the changing of horses; we will need to ride hard and long to accomplish our task, so sleep well tonight, it will be some time before you close your eyes again."

***

The court of King Jeftus sat at the tables of an enormous banquet, unsure of what they were supposed to be celebrating. There had been rumors of foreign invaders and the king had already ordered his armies to the new frontiers to await their arrival. Additionally, the king's frugality was well known, so a sudden banquet given the current situation was completely out of character. As the waiters began serving the dinner and drinks, the aristocrats began to relax and speak more freely. It was in the second hour of the banquet that the king arrived and took his place at the center of the main table. Instantly the aristocrats began to attend him, drinking to his honor and declaring their loyalty. Some noted that the king seemed to be acting strangely, his dark eyes shifting from place to place, his smile radiating beneath an ugly glare. Finally, he stood and held his hands up for silence.

"What," he began, "is wrong with this kingdom?"

The nobles sat, waiting for him to continue, but the king said nothing else. The silence grew uncomfortable; it became obvious even in their festive state that bad things would happen if no one spoke. Finally one of the king's ministers stood and cleared his throat. The faces in the room turned towards him expectantly.

"I believe I speak for us all, sire, when I say that we can find nothing wrong with our kingdom."

All faces turned back towards the king.

Jeftus smiled the most evil, unpleasant, vicious smile any of them had ever seen. Clapping his hands, two lines of archers entered the hall, marching down the center until they stretched from one end to the other. The king rose and walked between the lines until he was at the main door of the hall.

"I do not agree with your assessment," replied Jeftus. "I know one problem with our kingdom; too many noble men." Pointing to the captain of the archers, he smiled again, "Take care of that Captain; bring the women to me after you've cleaned them up of course." Sweeping through the doors Jeftus heard the beginning of the screaming and the whistling of arrows. He made no attempt to conceal his smile.

### Chapter 24

The men stood beside their horses, ready to mount when the king arrived, each trying to marshal his strength and courage for the ordeal ahead. In the tower above them, Alex kissed the sleeping Annalisse on her forehead and gently touched her dimpled hand before making his way to Jonathan's room. To his surprise, he found the boy awake and sitting at the edge of his bed. Sitting down next to him, Alex spoke quietly.

"I am leaving Jonathan," he stated.

"I know sire," he replied. "I was hoping you might stop to see me before you left. I wanted to wish you luck and to tell you that I will be praying for your safe return."

Alex smiled at the boy's serious tone, "Thank you, Jonathan. While I am away, I do not want you to worry. I will not ask you to look after your mother and sister, I know that you will do that and I want you to know that I appreciate it deeply. It makes leaving all of you somewhat easier, knowing that you are here to look after them." Drawing closer, Alex lowered his voice, "Jonathan, I do not want you to worry. If anything should happen to me, Lord Albert has a letter with my instructions. I want you to know that no harm will ever come to your mother or your sister or to you ever again, you have my word on it. I am sorry, I must go...I know you will but please remember to listen to Albert and Stasha and of course your mother, all right?"

"Yes, sire," replied Jonathan, his features troubled. "Please be careful." He hesitated and then said softly, "I would hate for anything to happen to you, so please, please be careful."

Standing, Alex looked at him and then, dropping to his knee, he gave the boy a quick hug. Jonathan was at first startled, but slowly reached up and put his arms around Alex' neck, whispering into his ear, "Good luck, sire."

Alex stood and nodded, "Be good Jonathan."

Turning, he left. Jonathan sat for a few minutes and then blew out his candle, slipping into bed. Staring at the ceiling, he suddenly felt very warm and found that he was crying. Why, he had no idea, but rather than try to restrain them, he let the tears flow, feeling a release and a lightness he could not understand.

Descending the stairs, Alex found Marie waiting for him in the foyer below. Without a word, she fell into step with him walking him to the door of the courtyard. He stopped finally and turned to her, offering her a reluctant smile. Stasha had warned her that Alex was very bad at good-byes. For her part, Marie understood the pressure he was under and had come to understand that Alex held much more doubt about his abilities than anyone realized. He forced himself to act as the monarch, but she suspected that if he could slip away from the duty, he would.

"It will be difficult to be away from you," he stated quietly, "but you understand, it must be done. Your brother is no more; it is not him or your people we are fighting. Please know that I will do my best, Marie, to protect them. Please understand..."

"I understand," she said, trying to appear brave even though she felt as if she would faint.

"I will do my best to write to you," he stated, looking down at the floor, feeling as if the castle had suddenly landed upon his chest. Struggling to breathe, he continued, "I have been told I am a terrible correspondent...I don't write well..."

"I understand," she said softly, touching his chest tentatively with her hand. "You will be busy; I know that, do not worry about writing, just come back to me, that is all I ask."

He gave a small smile, still not looking at her, "I will do my best. I have left a note with Albert in case anything should happen..."

Marie suddenly grabbed him, "Nothing will happen. Go now my love before I refuse to let you go..."

Putting his arms around her, he hugged her to him and kissed the top of her head. Turning he found Stasha and Albert waiting to say good-bye. Leaning over Stasha, he kissed her on the top of her head as she hugged him, but said nothing. Embracing Albert, he remained mute and then leaving them, walked towards his horse.

Without a further word, he climbed aboard Samuel, signaling the others to mount their horses. Looking up, he saw Lady Gertrude looking down from a window overlooking the yard, tears streaming down her face. Too overcome to speak, both he and Ernest nodded to her and then Alex spurred his horse, leading the men out into the darkness, never looking back.

Wrapping an arm around Marie, Stasha dabbed at her eyes.

"He could never say good-bye," she whispered. "It's become worse since he's become king..."

Marie nodded. With the men out of sight, she slowly made her way back upstairs to her bedroom... their bedroom. Closing the door, she collapsed into one of the chairs by the fire and wept bitterly. After a few moments, she began to pray for her husband's safety.

***

A detachment of guards stood within Jeftus' conference hall, fully armed and prepared for any trouble that might be on the minds of those who entered. The first days of the new war had brought tidings of nothing but successes, the armies of Zambelia had been caught by surprise and had retreated towards the mountain passes.

In the past few days, however, word had arrived that there had been numerous reversals, and requests to withdraw and regroup had been denied repeatedly. The king had given only one order; advance. Casualties had begun to mount and the number of nobles killed was increasing at an alarming rate, both on Jeftus' command and on the front. The delegation currently making their way into the hall had been sent by the commanders of Jeftus' army, requesting that he attend a war council in order to decide strategy.

Jeftus entered the hall and saw the 10 man committee cower towards the center, obviously made uneasy by the armed guards. Taking his place on the throne, Jeftus nodded for them to speak.

"Your highness," began one of the men, "the situation at the front has reached a strategically crucial point. If we do not fall back and reorganize ourselves, we may be flanked by the opposing forces."

"Also, sire," stated another man, bowing deeply as he spoke, "reports are reaching us that another enemy army is being landed in the south at our former ports. The forces we have currently in the area will not be able to withstand any substantial force. We need to send relief to the southern port cities or there will be nothing between our supply lines and their advance save the castle guards in the few fortresses between the ports and here."

Jeftus nodded sagely and motioned to the first speaker, "I understand the situation, it is crystal clear. There is no need of a conference; they only waste time and allow the enemy more time to plot against us. There will be no regrouping of our forces, other armies regroup as they march and you will do the same. I order you to take the force that is currently being held in reserve of the main army and send them south to secure our former seaports. I also order you to advance on all of the mountain passes simultaneously. It will catch the defenders by surprise."

"But sire," replied the first man, "we do not have the forces to continue attacking at the front, secure the seaports AND attack all of the passes at once. Our forces are limited and the continued offensive is causing them to dwindle at an alarming rate..."

"The element of surprise has been lost, sire," agreed the second man. "They are coming in much greater numbers and they are forcing us back at every juncture. If we could consolidate along a smaller interior line..."

"Interior line, exterior line!" rage Jeftus, rising and sweeping his cloak about him. "You think by using such terms you will confuse me? You will awe me with your "special" military knowledge? You know nothing! Your king has commanded you and you WILL obey, is that understood?"

"But sire," replied the first man, dropping to a knee, "where will we get the troops for such a bold strategy?"

Jeftus considered the objection a moment and then smiled.

"Empty the prisons and arm the prisoners! Make them fight!"

"Sire," replied the second man, completely aghast at the suggestion, "we would have enemies to our front and traitors in our midst. They would attempt to escape to the enemy at the first chance. Our troops would become jailers in addition to all that they are doing now..."

"You gentlemen have excuses for every eventuality, don't you?" sneered Jeftus. "Give us troops, I give you troops and you complain that you must command them! Give us orders, I give you orders and you complain that they are too difficult! You have my orders! OBEY!"

The first man moved to speak but the second man restrained him with an outstretched hand. Following his gaze, the first man saw the captain of the guard with his fingers drumming on the hilt of his sword.

Dropping into a bow, the man replied, "As my lord commands..."

All of the members of the delegation bowed and backed out of the room as Jeftus glared at them. Once they were gone, Jeftus moved to the captain of the guards.

"Have them followed," he hissed. "Make sure that my orders are obeyed. If not, kill them."

"As my lord commands," replied the captain. Signaling two of his soldiers, he moved after the group, prepared to fulfill his lord's orders.

***

The Lady Gertrude sat sullenly in the king's study, half-listening to Lady Marie and the Lord Albert discussing the news from the front. Her beloved had recently arrived at the front and had sent her several secret messages, pledging his love and fidelity, but sweet words only made the wait for his return more difficult.

Lord Albert was pointing to a map that lay sprawled out on the table, explaining to Lady Marie where the troops were positioned and showing her the objectives that were being discussed in the dispatches. The Duke of Elding entered and offered those present a bow.

"Lord Albert, we were to speak about the finances..." he stated quietly.

"Yes, please come in. I hope this will not bore you, milady," he said to Marie as the Duke took a chair besides them.

"Not at all," replied Marie.

The Duke smiled and unrolled a parchment that he was holding.

"This is the expenditure for our lord's most recent campaign," he said seriously. "As you can see, I have done my best to keep the costs to their most essential..."

"It's very clever how you managed to pay for the livestock, if I read your figures correctly," stated Marie.

The two men looked at her.

"Pardon me, milady," stated the Duke, attempting to contain his excitement. "You understand these figures?"

Marie nodded happily, "Oh yes, I believe I do. See here," she said, pointing at a column, "you paid for the livestock in script that can be redeemed within a year. Not only does it cause less of an immediate drain upon the treasury, it also allows for the fact that many of the animals are from local sources and that given the fact that they must be near the front, the seller's situation may change substantially within that time. You are allowing them the best price at the best time; it will certainly help in restoring the economy once the war is over."

The Duke cleared his throat, almost moved to tears, "You DO understand, milady, you understand it perfectly. I have tried to explain it to our lord, your husband, countless times, but he never seems to grasp the significance..."

"I have always enjoyed math," replied Marie. "I also have run households, milord. Husbands spend money, wives mind it, as an old friend of mine used to say."

"Well, I'm glad you explained it to me," laughed Albert. "By this point in the discussion, I am usually as lost as Alex is..."

"The Duke has taken into account not only the financial consequences of the war, but the probable long term debilitating effects of it," stated Marie as she looked over the scroll. "It is truly a masterful job, if I read it correctly."

Scanning the sheet, her face grew concerned, "I do not see any appropriations for hospitals, milord. Surely you have not forgotten the wounded..."

"Heaven forbid, milady," replied the Duke. "It is here..." he stated, patting a pouch that lay at his side. Anxiously opening it, he pulled out another two scrolls, "If you will look here, milady, this is the complete financial record at this point in the campaign..."

Lady Gertrude turned away from the conversation. When would her love return? When would their future be secure?

### Chapter 25

Ernest thundered up to the small rise upon which Alex stood, dismounting and breaking into a run in one fluid motion. Alex was giving orders to one of his squires as he stood next to Samuel, pointing off into the distance at Jeftus' retreating army. Skidding to a halt besides his brother, Ernest saw the blood running from a cut on his cheek, glancing down quickly at the gore that spattered his armor.

"The enemy's line is broken," reported Ernest, directing his brother's attention to a vast field below to their right where men on horseback pursued men running on foot.

"Let the cavalry pursue them," stated Alex. "Keep the troops back; get them reorganized and ready to march. We need to clear out that village below to our left before we press forward."

Parker rode up and dismounted, running to Alex and stopping short, out of breath.

"Milord, I wish to report that we have broken the enemy's army on your left. The Sultan's forces have taken the village below and our men are already beyond it. If your highness can see through that clump of trees to the left, you should see our troops emerging in a moment..."

Alex looked to where Parker directed him and nodded.

"Ernest, forget those orders, send the troops forward as quickly as possible to support the cavalry..."

Ernest examined his brother's face and pulled out a cloth to wipe the blood from his cheek.

"You are wounded..."

"A scratch," replied Alex, embarrassed. Turning to Parker he replied, "Let the Sultan's troops finish with the town. Instruct Sir Chester that I want him to organize his men on the way and to support the cavalry as quickly and completely as possible. If we press the attack, we will be on the outskirts of Jeftus' castle within the week."

"As my lord commands," replied Parker as he turned and sprinted for his horse.

"Ernest, ride with me," said Alex. Turning to the squire he had been speaking when Ernest had arrived, he ordered him to bring the orders he had originally given to Ernest to the commander of their forces on the right.

Mounting their horses, the two men rode off down the hill towards what had been the center of the battle. Seeing their king riding forward, the soldiers began sending up a spontaneous cheer, raising their swords as Alex and Ernest thundered past.

"I feel sorry for any knight whom our king catches," stated one soldier as he watched the two brothers ride forward side by side.

"He's frightening in battle," agreed the other. "He fights as if he is possessed."

Ernest drew closer to Alex, worried about a bloody stain on his brother's tunic that seemed to be fed from a cut beneath. Alex had already been treated twice for wounds, a deep slash on his leg and an arrow wound that had caught him on the hip. Ernest knew he was in constant pain, but Alex would not discuss his injuries, merely bandaging them and pressing forward.

"I don't understand it," stated Ernest. "Why isn't Jeftus using any of his dark magic against us? His men are brave and courageous, but they are as badly outnumbered as they are badly led. We slaughter them by the thousands and still they come forward..."

"You yourself said that all that the dark figure desired was death and destruction," replied Alex sadly, gesturing with his arm at the carnage all about them. "How many more must die or be maimed. It has been two months of hell, Ernest and it is not over yet."

"He's waiting for us, I'm sure," replied Ernest. "He will have some devious surprise for us, a final trap."

Alex nodded, "I believe you are right. I hate to say it, but I believe you are right..."

***

Lady Gertrude retreated to her chamber and lowered herself gingerly onto her bed. Anxiously she pulled the scroll from her sleeve where it had been hidden and making sure the door was locked, broke the seal and opened it. Tears filled her eyes as she began to read;

My Beloved Queen,

How I long to embrace you, to hold you in my arms yet again and kiss away your doubts and fears. This war is a terrible thing, most of all because it keeps us from fulfilling our dreams of being together in love for all eternity. How I wish I were with you now instead of here in this dreadful and evil place.

Oh my love, your last message broke my heart, filled as it were with doubts and fears. I know that much must happen before we can secure our future together, but do not doubt for a moment that it will happen, it must happen. I know it must be torture to you to serve each day, awaiting your day of happiness, but I implore you to be patient, it cannot be much longer. The forces of our enemy will soon be vanquished and then, my love, we shall join together as man and wife and never be parted again.

I fear that I must end here my pure angel, kiss me in your dreams as I kiss you every night in mine.

With all of my heart and love,

Your King

Lady Gertrude read the letter twice and then lay on her bed and cried. She was tired of all of the pain and suffering, all of the misery of war. Most of all, she was tired of being separated from her true heart. Was it true, would they be home soon? Grasping the letter tightly, she held it to her breast and sighed. She would be patient, she must be patient. Soon he would be home and all would be made right.

"Hurry, my love," she whispered, "hurry home to me..."

***

With the war entering its third month, Lady Marie had turned the castle at Wharton into a hospital for the many brave men who had returned injured from the fighting. Following her example, the entire court had joined together to care for the injured warriors, tending their wounds and helping them to heal. Rising early each day until late each evening, Marie was always calm, always cheerful and always ready to assist the physicians, no matter how difficult the task at hand. Each day a long caravan of wounded made its way towards the castle, the cost of the latest battle. If there was any joy to be found, it was that each succeeding group brought news from further away, each group having been wounded closer to their enemy's capitol.

Retreating to her room late at night, she made her way to her bed, pulling the curtains closed and placing the scroll she had received upon the covers. She smiled and broke the seal, unrolling the paper and reading the words anxiously.

Dear Marie,

I hope that this letter finds you well. I am sorry that it is so short, but it is very late and I still have much yet to do. I could not, however, concentrate on anything until I sent to you a note at the very least. I pray that Annalisse and Jonathan are well, please tell them I ask for them and that I think of and pray for them often.

We have taken several fortresses and our progress towards your brother's castle is steady. I have done my best to lessen the effects of this terrible war upon the people of his kingdom as I know that this would please you most of all. If things continue as they have begun, soon we must be at his castle's gates but what we will find when we arrive is anyone's guess.

It had been my hope that reason might prevail, but our peace commissioners have been rejected yet again, so we fight on and hope for the best.

Please do not think that I complain, I know how brave you have been in my absence, but I miss you very much and cannot wait to see you again. I think of you and hold you close in my heart. Sorry to end so abruptly, but the messenger is waiting.

With my love,

Alex

Marie smiled at the note, it was, like all of the others, stilted and stifled and yet she could not help but cherish it. She was surprised by the volume of his correspondence if not its quality. Sometimes his letters came in bunches with no word from him for days. Sometimes they were sent amongst papers addressed to Albert and once in a while, a lone messenger with a lone message would arrive. Despite everything, he had managed to write to her every day, a consistency that she relished above everything else.

All of his letters were written in the same stiff and uncomfortable style, as if he were trying to woo her in front of a judgmental crowd, but despite their dryness, she did not doubt their sincerity.

She too, had written every day, telling him about the children, the council and things going on here in the kingdom. At first her letters had been very long and at times emotional. As the war dragged on, she had made a conscious effort to shorten them, worried that he did not have the time to indulge in reading them.

In contrast, his letters were always a page or two at most and followed a predictable pattern; he always asked for the children, hoped for the end of the war and confessed that he missed her. Most importantly, he always stated that he longed to see her. She always imagined those words spoken in a whisper, a secret of his heart revealed only to her. Holding his letter to her heart, she smiled. God, please bring him home safely. I will wait forever for him, just let him be safe.

***

Stasha stood in the doorway of her rooms, waiting patiently for Albert as he slowly made his way down the hallway. It was very late and he had been working many hours.

"You'll get sick if you keep going at this pace," she scolded softly as he entered the room and lowered himself into a chair by the fire.

"Don't think that I haven't noticed you working just as hard as I am," he replied as she took the seat opposite him. "Everyone is doing their best in the hopes that his war will end soon."

"Does it look as if it shall?" she asked hopefully.

Albert shrugged, "I don't know my dear. From the position of the troops, they are closing in on Jeftus' castle from every side, yet he refuses to surrender or even consider discussing peace." Dropping his voice, he leaned closer to her, "Alex fears that the evil figure is planning something horrible, a trap for them when they arrive at the castle, but he cannot be sure."

"What about Ernest's friend?" asked Stasha anxiously. "Can't she see anything?"

"Nothing," replied Albert. "She has been trying to see what is before us, but has had no success. Oh, Stasha, this is a great evil. All of those poor boys fighting and dying... we must do our best to support them in any way we can."

"I worry about Lady Marie," replied Stasha softly. "She is driving herself very hard and she's such a tiny thing..."

"She's got the heart of a lion," chuckled Albert. "Just please make sure she eats, it's the one thing she forgets to do, she forgets nothing else, I can assure you!"

"The children have been such a help," smiled Stasha. "How is Jonathan's training progressing?"

"He's a fine horseman and he learns quickly. He's much quieter than Ernest or even Alex was at his age, but he will make us all proud, of that I have no doubt."

Stasha looked into the fire, the exhaustion washing over her. Tomorrow there would be more wounded men to tend and more work to do. No sense sitting in a chair when a comfortable bed was at the ready. Rising, she looked down and smiled, Albert was already fast asleep.

"No, no, no," she smiled, tapping his shoulder until he awoke. "To bed with you, no sleep in chairs, you'll wake up stiff as a board."

Albert looked up through bleary eyes and nodded, slowly rising to toddle off to bed.

***

Jeftus stood with his dukes, looking down at the table that held the map of his ever decreasing domain. Maneuvering the wooden pieces that stood upon the map, the Duke of Orelos shook his head.

"Sire, our forces are in retreat on all sides," he whined. "The Sultan's troops march with the King of Zambelia to our north, the seaports are controlled by the King's Navy and every day, more and more nations align themselves with him, sending troops and supplies. Our southern provinces are under the control of his armies and they will be here within a week at the most."

"I pray a week," stated an elderly Duke, his red eyes filled with tears. "I have been to the front, I saw my son die and for what, sire? They swept over him like a wave sweeps over the sand; they cut him and his troops to pieces. You had ordered them to hold the bridge at Fergone at all costs, all of those men gave their lives to fulfill your command and for what? The bridge was of no importance, our troops had retreated already..."

"We are surrounded, sire," stated the first Duke. "We must parley. Please sire, before ALL is lost, I beg you..."

"Silence," snapped Jeftus. "Let them come, let them all come. When they are here, I will settle all scores! You weep for your sons, your lost land, your possessions, fools! They will pay, all of them will pay! Once they are here, I will destroy their armies and vanquish their warriors. King of Zambelia..." Jeftus spat on the map, "The King of Zambelia will die HERE and I will be the one to kill him! Let them come!"

Sweeping his way to the head of the table, he turned dramatically and glared at them, "I am tired of you cowards, of your incessant tears and pleas. Go to your troops, go now and order them to retreat to the south. I want the way open for the king and his cohorts. I will meet them alone and alone, I will defeat them..."

The dukes looked one to another; surely the king was mad.

"You will defeat them, you alone?"

Jeftus smiled, "I have no need of you, now get out and do as I command. After I have finished with the King of Zambelia, I will deal with each and every one of you."

The dukes eyed each other nervously and then, as a group, bowed and retreated to the safety of the hallway.

"He's mad," stated the first duke. "He thinks he can defeat an army..."

"Several armies," corrected the second duke. "But what are we to do?"

"You heard him," stated the first duke. "Order your troops south. You may do as you wish once you arrive there, but as for me, the first warrior of the King of Zambelia whom I meet, I will surrender too. All is lost, our king is mad and there is no sense in anymore bloodshed."

"What if King Alex orders you tortured?" asked the second duke.

"He is not that type of man," replied the first duke. "If he does, at least my men will live. Our nation is destroyed, gentlemen. Better to surrender and take the chance that we might live and help rebuild it than to go to a certain death in a hopeless cause..."

One by one, the other dukes nodded, agreeing to do the same. They had followed a madman for far too long. Having lost everything, it made no sense to surrender their lives as well.

### Chapter 26

The townspeople stood in a circle as the crier stepped up onto the stonewall that surrounded the fountain in the middle of the town square. Every day, a message arrived from the front about the war, every day they listened in silence, praying for an end to the bloodshed. The crier stood and examined the scroll and then, looking up, smiled at the crowd.

"Good people," he yelled. "His majesty, King Alex of Zambelia is pleased to announce that the forces of Vesek have surrendered in the field and that only the King of Vesek's fortress has refused to lay down their arms. Also, he is pleased to announce that most of that force has been permitted to leave the castle and surrender, leaving the King of Vesek with a force of only about twenty men who have not surrendered."

"The war is over! God be praised," yelled out one of the crowd and soon other voices were raised, joining him in the sentiment.

An old woman stood and cried, "Our boys are safe, oh thank God, it is over..."

"The King of Zambelia has been most kind," stated one of the tradesmen. "He has done all he could to help us. I hope he hangs Jeftus from the highest battlement of the castle."

Others began to cry out with more vicious ideas until the crier called for silence.

"Perhaps the King of Zambelia will allow Lord Jonathan to come back to us as our regent!"

The crowd picked up on the idea and began to shout that Lord Jonathan must succeed his uncle when the end came.

At the back of the crowd, a large man slowly withdrew and made his way quickly back towards his home. It was almost a mile outside of the town, but the man covered the distance in short order and gaining his brother's yard, made a beeline straight for his barn. Entering the barn, he ran to the last stall and opening it, pushed past the old donkey that lived there. Pulling back the hay on the floor, he found the board he was looking for and pulling up upon it, reached down and withdrew the cloak that he had hidden there. Unwrapping the cloak he found the lantern that the child had given him and ran out to the well in the yard. For a moment he hesitated and then with a glance to make sure that no one was about, he hurled the lantern into the well. He waited a moment, expecting to hear a splash, but there was no sound. Confused, he peered over the wall of the well and looked down into the darkness.

"Looking for this?" asked a small voice behind him.

Turning, he saw the child holding the lantern, a small smile playing upon his lips.

"You wish to be successful after all," stated the child.

The guard looked about and then turning his attention to the child again, nodded.

"Very well," replied the child. "You will do as I instruct you. Go to your house alone, take three days provisions for yourself and with your horse, return to Jeftus' castle. When you arrive, sneak in using the secret passageway that you know of, no one will be guarding it. Hide yourself in the dungeon where you used to work, it is empty now. Once inside, stay put. On the third day, you will hear a horrible noise, the most terrifying noise you have ever heard, but do not be afraid. When you hear the noise, go upstairs and wait in the main hall. After a time, you will see a man. When you see him, you will know what to do."

"Is that all?" asked the guard.

The child smiled, "Do as I say and all will go well. It will not be as easy as you think now, but if you do as I say, all will be as promised."

With that, the child disappeared.

The guard ran into the house muttering to himself, "Three days provisions, I must get three days provisions..."

***

The last of the guards stepped out across the drawbridge and threw his sword and shield down on the pile at Samuel's feet. Alex looked down at the man and nodded.

"Permission to speak, milord," said the man respectfully.

"Permission granted," replied Alex.

"My former lord and master, the former King of Vesek, your enemy and the enemy of all good men has commanded me to state the following to you; he awaits your pleasure in his audience chamber. He asks that you and your brother come alone. He states that once he is done with you, he will vanquish the rest of your forces."

Alex nodded as a guard stepped forward, sword drawn.

"Take this brave knight to our camp," stated Alex. "See that he is well treated, remember, we have no prisoners, only guests."

The guard nodded and moved to the knight who stepped forward. Drawing closer to Alex, he said softly, "Be careful milord; Jeftus is mad and he is evil as well. I will pray for your and your brother's safe return."

"Thank you," replied Alex.

He watched the man and the guard as they trudge towards the rear for a moment and then looked up. His commanders sat calmly on their mounts, awaiting his orders.

"Let me go in alone," said Ernest. "I will bring him out..."

"No," replied Alex. "It was the last order he gave as a king and I will see that it is obeyed. We will go together..."

"Sire, please," begged Parker. "It is a trap; we all know that...he hates you... He has pledged your death and that evil...THING, is in there with him. I beg you sire..."

Alex dismounted his horse, gritting his teeth as the pain from his wounded leg and hip shot through him, making standing torturous.

Steadying himself, he held up his hand stated calmly, "This will be the end, gentlemen, one way or the other. Ernest and I will go in, you are to wait here. That is my order and command."

Ernest watched with concern as Alex drew his sword. He alone beside the doctors knew that the wound on his brother's leg was healing slowly and that the one on his hip was made raw each day by his armor. His brother looked tired and he was sure that he had not slept a full night since the campaign had begun, but there was no arguing with him. Taking up his own sword, he followed Alex across the bridge and into the castle.

Gaining the courtyard, Alex called out, but no one replied. A stench of sulfur filled the air and both men fought the urge to gag as they moved into the fortress, each looking constantly for a hidden foe or some sort of movement. Walking through a series of rooms, they at last found themselves in the main audience chamber. The room was lit by two torches that burned at the far end, each of which stood on either side of a raised platform upon which sat the king's throne. On the throne sat King Jeftus, in full armor, armed and alone.

Alex and Ernest advanced cautiously until they were about halfway across the room when Jeftus held up a restraining hand.

"You dare to enter my domains?" he sneered, drawing his sword from its scabbard as he rose.

"The war is over, Jeftus," snapped Ernest. "Your last man has surrendered. We asked you to be reasonable, but you refused..."

"Reasonable?" laughed Jeftus. "You of all people speak of reason? You're mad, Lord Ernest, everyone says so, but at least you are no coward. Your brother..."

Alex held up a restraining hand as Ernest raised his sword.

"You had best come with us," stated Alex. "There is no need for further bloodshed or disgrace..."

"Disgrace?" laughed Jeftus. "You wish to speak of disgrace? Married to a barren old tart like Marie..."

"Silence," snapped Alex.

"Oh, has she charmed you, King Alex?" laughed Jeftus. "How foolish you mortals are; a woman spreads her legs for you and you think you're in love. Both of you are fools, they will both turn against you!"

"The decision is yours," stated Alex flatly. "You come with us now or you and I finish this here."

"The smartest thing you ever said, King Alex, is the last suggestion you'll ever make," smiled Jeftus. "You will be ended here, with your brother and then I will finish up with that rabble outside."

"You are mad," replied Ernest, "take it from one who knows."

Suddenly, Jeftus hurled his sword at Alex, who slapped it away with his shield. Jumping down from the raised platform, Jeftus threw open his cape and to their surprise, it stretch out and stayed there, suspended in midair. Slowly the cape began to change color, growing darker and becoming larger, wider and taller. Alex instinctively stepped in front of his brother and raised his sword, watching in horrified fascination as the cloak seemed to meld onto the figure that stood in the center of it.

Jeftus was changing as well, twisting and contorting, his features growing and shrinking, grotesque and out of proportion. His body seemed to circle upon itself, his skin growing darker, his eyes burning black and then red, a hellish red perched upon a hooked nose and then a beak and then a snout, a long, growing snout. Below the nostrils teeth began to sprout out from between the lips as the room was filled with an overwhelming stench that caused them to choke and gag. The creature kept growing and reshaping until at last, its final form became apparent.

They stood facing a huge, black, four legged griffon with a forked tail and a deformed snout, its mouth twisted and cruel, the eyes reflecting the flames of its inner fire. A ball of fire erupted from its mouth and sped towards the two men. Alex threw up his shield as Ernest dove to the side, the flames striking the shield with so much force, that Alex fell back and twisted towards the opposite side of the room. Ernest saw a chain holding a large chandelier and ran to it, grabbed it and began to climb it as the creature twisted to pursue Alex. To the things surprise, Alex suddenly lunged towards it, slashing it across the belly with his sword.

Raising its head towards the ceiling, the creature emitted a deafening howl that made the men's blood run cold. In the confines of the great room, the roar echoed and reverberated, knocking Alex off his feet as Ernest clung desperately to the chain, hoping not to fall.

Outside, the horses bolted, throwing riders or running wildly in their panic. The knights quickly regrouped and made to cross into the castle when the iron gate above the entrance suddenly fell, locking them outside.

Inside Alex pulled himself to his feet and slashed again just as the creature's leg thrust out, sending him flying through the air, skidding across the floor and slamming into a stone pillar. The creature took two steps and was upon him, Alex rolling just in time to avoid its foot as it came crashing down, splintering the stone upon which he had lain only a moment before. Regaining his feet, he twisted away from the creature, using his sword to slash at its side and then continuing to run towards its rear, reaching up to thrust his sword through its wing. With another roar, the creature lashed out with its tail, catching Alex just as he turned to renew his assault, undercutting his legs and upending him onto the hard stone floor. With its sharpened claws, the creature suddenly slashed downwards; one of its nails slicing through Alex' armor and into his right side as he twist away a moment too late. Seeping out of the wound, blood streaked his armor red, as Alex staggered to his feet, clutching his sword and looking for an opening.

Suddenly, the chandelier overhead came crashing down onto the back of the creature, its ornate iron work slicing into the skin of the creature's back. Emitting another horrible roar, the creature twisted to attack the figure suspended from the chain high above the chamber floor.

With all of his strength, Alex struck at the base of the creature's neck, creating a massive wound from which black blood instantly began to pour. The creature twisted back, letting loose a ball of flame which knocked Alex to the ground beneath his battered shield. Following the flame towards its quarry, the creature thrust its head towards Alex, intent on biting him, when to its surprise Alex rolled to his feet and twisted away to its side. Seizing the opportunity caused by the creature's momentary confusion, Alex brought his sword down in a vicious arc, severing the creatures head from its body. The creature hesitated a moment and then, its limbs spasmed violently, one leg jerking outwards and slashing Alex, sending him sprawling across the room. A hellish cry sounded from the severed head of the creature as the body twisted and crumbled to the floor in a heap before bursting into flame.

High above the flame, Ernest sped down the chandelier chain, praying that it would not release from its binding above. Working his way to the floor, he dropped down from a safe height and ran around the edge of the room, the flame growing more intense every moment.

To his surprise, he found a man hunched over his brother, trying to stem the blood flow from his side.

"Grab his legs," cried out Ernest, "we have to get out of here!"

The man reached out and grabbed Alex' legs while Ernest grabbed him under his arms and the two men headed as quickly as they dared towards the courtyard. As they entered the courtyard, men began streaming in from the gate.

There was yelling and confusion as the men grabbed for Alex, Ernest and the man. Bearing the three of them up, the crowd hurried back towards camp as Jeftus' castle went up in flames.

### Chapter 27

Marie stood on the ramparts of Wharton, straining to see any sign of the approaching column. It had been a month in hell for her and how she could continue was a constant source of amazement to not only herself but to Stasha and Albert as well. It was a month since she had received Ernest's letter describing what had taken place at her brother's castle. Later, some of the wounded who had seen the great fire had arrived, adding horrible details to an already terrifying picture.

Marie immediately planned to leave and go to her husband's side, but the council had voted against it, unsure if they would be able to guarantee her safety and terrified of what would happen should the king die. The only thing that sustained her in her trial had been Ernest's daily letters and assurances. For a week, Alex' life had been despaired of, but slowly he had rallied. The doctors had finally allowed him to be moved at the end of the second week and now, for the last two weeks, he had endured agonies as a carriage slowly made its way back to Wharton.

In addition to her fears about her husband's life, Marie was also concerned about the children. Upon hearing of her stepfather's condition, Annalisse had begun having horrible nightmares. She would awake screaming and crying, begging to see Alex and her mother. Marie feared that the evil that had consumed her brother was now attacking her daughter, but the doctors and priests said that Annalisse was fine and normal. Oddly, Marie's own nightmares had ceased, a fact that she attributed to her own inability to sleep for more than an hour at a time.

As Annalisse struggled every night, Jonathan had begun to unravel during the day. Suddenly, her quiet, studious son had become unable to concentrate. He walked about in a haze, apparently unable to concentrate, alternating between fear and anger. Two days before, she had tried to speak with him.

"I don't know," he stated truthfully. "I don't know what is wrong with me."

Suddenly he burst into tears. Marie was momentarily stunned, but then regaining control of herself, moved to him and wrapped him in her arms. Suddenly she began to cry as well, unable to keep her composure.

"He said it would be all right," mumbled Jonathan. "I believed him. I believed he would come back and it would be all right..."

"He's coming back, darling," she said between sobs. "He didn't lie to us; he wouldn't lie to us..."

Taking a deep breath, she pulled back from him even while she held him.

"We'll all have to be very careful for a time; he's going to be very weak and probably very cranky..." She smiled as Jonathan laughed. "He never sent me a message without asking about you and Annalisse, you know. He cares about you, Jonathan and about Annalisse and about me as well. Now, we have to care about him..."

"He said I shouldn't worry," replied Jonathan, wiping at his tears. "If anything happens to him..."

"Your Uncle Ernest said that he will be all right in time," replied Marie softly.

"Uncle Ernest is mad," replied Jonathan.

For a moment, the two looked at each other through their tears and then they began to laugh.

"I won't argue with you," she replied and she held him for a long time.

Jonathan had recovered somewhat but he too was anxious, pacing not far from her, searching over the horizon for any sign of the warriors. Annalisse too was on the battlements, but she could not stand to search anymore. She sat sullenly on the floor, ignoring even Stasha and Gertrude, speaking to no one.

Suddenly, Marie let out a cry, "There!"

Jonathan was first to her side, just ahead of Stasha who peered out towards the road that wound through the trees.

"Something is moving out there," she agreed.

"There," pointed Jonathan. "I see banners!"

Annalisse was at her mother's side in an instant, "Is he here, Mama?"

"I believe so," laughed Marie, "I believe... yes, YES! Look, look there, it is Samuel! Samuel is tied to the back of that coach!"

As a group they rushed for the stairs, plunging down, down and down, the size of the group increasing as word spread that the king was returning. Gaining the entrance hall, Marie called out to the guards who were stationed there.

"The king is coming, is all prepared?"

"We have spread out straw, milady," replied the captain of the guard, "and the men are all wearing cloth around their feet. There will be no noise, I promise you!"

It seemed an eternity, but within the hour, two knights on horseback entered the courtyard followed by a regiment of archers and then Ernest aboard his magnificent black stallion Eagle. Behind him ambling slowly behind came the large horses pulling the coach. Signaling a halt, Ernest dropped down from his saddle and moved quickly to Marie and the children.

Marie embraced him tightly, "I'm so glad that you are unharmed."

"How are all of you?" he asked, kissing her lightly on the cheek and then leaning down to kiss Annalisse quickly.

"Most anxious about his majesty," responded Jonathan who hugged Ernest tightly.

"He is asleep," replied Ernest. "He has been resting poorly but thankfully the road has been smooth for the last few days so he has been able to sleep a bit. I want to prepare all of you, he is wrapped with linen from the chest down and has become thinner than you are used to seeing him. I know all of you have many questions and well wishes to share with him, but please remember, he is very weak."

"He will be taken up to our room," replied Marie, "I have given strict orders that all visitors must be approved by either you, Albert or myself."

"Excellent," replied Ernest. Glancing back at the coach, he suddenly looked exhausted, "He has caused me a great deal of worry, I can confess that to you now. In time, he will be all right, but we must be patient."

"Is he in a lot of pain?" asked Annalisse, trying very hard not to cry.

"He's mostly tired, my dear," smiled Ernest as he touched her cheek. "Come, let us go and get him to bed."

Following him to the door of the carriage, they stopped as he held up his finger to his lips to remind them to remain quiet. Slowly, Ernest opened the carriage door. A tall, thin man in black sat with his back to the front of the coach, his long, gray beard covering his chest to his waist. Beside him lay Alex covered in a blanket except for his feet, his arms and his head. His beard was ragged and his hair long, his face thin and pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. He was breathing slowly and steadily. The man stood and descended from the carriage.

"This is Doctor Nivar," said Ernest softly. "He has been with him for the last few hours; the doctors take turns sitting with him."

"Your highness," he stated softly with a slight bow. "Milord, I think it would be best to have four men, one for each corner. There are handles on the board upon which he lies. They can grab the corners and maneuver him out the door and up the stairs."

Ernest nodded and motioned three of the guards to join him. Carefully, easily, they maneuvered Alex out of the coach.

As they gained the stairs, his eyes fluttered open. At first he did not seem to recognize where he was, but then he turned and saw Marie standing beside him. Instantly a light seemed to return to his eyes as he tentatively reached up to take her hand. Saying nothing, she held his hand, staying beside him until they reached the bedroom door, when she had to release her grip in order for them to get the board through the door.

"Wait here," she instructed the others as Ernest, the doctor and the men brought him into the room and transferred him to the bed.

"Let the children go in first," said Stasha softly to Marie as she returned to the door.

Marie grabbed their hands and led them to the bed. Alex peered at them and then patted the mattress, inviting them to sit next to him. Annalisse jumped on the bed and without hesitation leaned down and kissed him on the cheek and hugged him. Marie was about to protest, but Alex wrapped his arm around her, holding her tightly.

"I have missed you very much," he whispered softly. "They tell me you have been a very good girl."

"Do you hurt?" she asked, unable to restrain her tears.

"Only a little sometimes," he replied. "I will be fine soon, I promise."

"You promise?" she replied, hugging him more tightly.

"Yes, I promise," he said softly, kissing her again. She sat up and looked down at him. "I want to talk to Jonathan now, all right?"

She nodded and reluctantly gave way to Jonathan, who drew closer to him. Alex smiled at him and motioned him to come closer. Leaning down, he was surprised when Alex reached up and pulled him closer, kissing him on the cheek and holding him.

"I have missed you Jonathan," he whispered softly. "I have thought of you and your sister very often. Thank you for taking such good care of your mother and sister for me."

Jonathan held him tightly about the neck, just as Annalisse had done.

"I'm so sorry you were injured, I'm so sorry..."

"Don't be sorry, Jonathan," he laughed softly. "I'll be fine soon, before you know it, you wait and see..."

"I believe you," blurted out Jonathan, surprising himself almost as much as he did Marie. "Please, just get well."

Standing he looked to his mother and swiped at his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

Turning, he took Annalisse' hand, "Let's wait outside, Annalisse and let Mama have a few moments alone."

Annalisse pouted a moment and then nodded, "You're right. Let's go sit in the chairs by the fire."

Looking to Marie, Jonathan nodded and took his sister out, closing the curtains behind them.

Alex turned his tired eyes to Marie and smiled. Unable to contain herself any longer, she put her head on his chest and gingerly placed her arms around him, feeling the lumps of the bandages beneath the blanket. Her tears flowed, tears of relief, of sorrow, of happiness. She felt his hand stroking her hair, his other arm holding her, heavily laid upon her back.

"Oh my love..." she moaned. "Oh my love..."

"It's all right, Marie," he stated softly. "I will be fine soon, now that I am here with you and the children. I have so much to talk to you about, so much that I must do, but I promise you, everything will work out. Please do not be upset..."

Lifting her face to him, she kissed him ever so softly and gently on the lips.

"When I heard what had happened I thought I would die," she cried softly. "Ernest wrote me every day. I wanted to come..."

"It was not safe," stated Alex. "There was nothing that could be done. Once they had cleaned and dressed the wound, nothing could be done except to wait and let time take its course."

"We prayed for you, every day we prayed for you," she replied, unable to check her tears.

"I'm sorry to have worried you, Marie," he replied. Closing his eyes he swallowed hard, "I'm sorry, my dear, I would have done anything not to upset you. I'm just so tired..."

"Rest my love," she replied, kissing his forehead and then running her hands through his hair. "Rest, no one will disturb you, I promise."

"It's all right," he said, but he could not keep his eyes open and soon, he faded into sleep.

Marie lay next to him for a long time, her head on his bruised chest. Finally she rose and ever so carefully, pulled the blanket down until it was gathered at his waist. His chest was bandaged in long strips of linen. On his right side, several of the strips were splotched with blood, as if his bleeding in spots had stopped only recently. There was a barely healed wound on his arm and then just at the line of the blanket she saw red, raw skin. Pulling the blanket slightly lower, she could see around his undergarments signs of a great red scrape with what must have been a fairly deep wound in the center. It too was healing, though it appeared raw and angry. Lifting the blanket, she looked down at his legs, a long red line on one of them that seemed to just be freshly healed. Looking at his face, she saw the scab on his cheek, the dark circles under his eyes. Gently she pulled the blanket around his body again and then, with a deep breath, she opened the curtain and motioned to the children.

"Alex is sleeping, he must rest. Do you think you two can play quietly here? I know that when he wakes up, he would be very happy to see you both."

"We'll be quiet, Mama," promised Annalisse. "We'll be so quiet the mice won't know we're here."

"We promise Mama," agreed Jonathan. "We can sleep in the chairs and we won't say anything."

Marie smiled and then went to the door and motioned Stasha and Albert inside. The two entered with the doctor.

"It is time to change his bandages, milady," the doctor said softly.

"Please let him sleep for now," replied Marie. "I will summon you when he is awake and they can be changed then. He is exhausted."

"Very well, milady," replied the doctor stiffly. "I will await your summons."

As the doctor left, Marie drew Albert and Stasha closer, "I am sorry, he has fallen asleep."

"Don't you worry," replied Stasha. "When he's strong enough, we'll talk to him. I just thank God that he is home and in his own bed. He'll get well now, we'll see to that..."

"Albert," said Marie softly. "We are all going to stay here with him. Can you see to it that two beds are brought in for the children to sleep on? We could put them here in the sitting room..."

"Certainly," replied Albert. "I'll see to it immediately."

"Perhaps we should bring in three," pondered Marie. "I do not wish to crowd him, he needs his rest..."

"Nonsense," replied Stasha. "He needs to know you are here. I'll get lunch and bring it up and we'll send the people outside away."

Marie smiled and took Stasha's hand, "Thank you so much. I know with you and Albert and the children here, he's going to be fine."

***

Lady Gertrude sat in Alex' study, her arms wrapped around Ernest as she cried upon his shoulder.

"I'm so happy you are all right," she said between sobs. "Poor Alex, poor Alex..."

"He's going to be fine," stated Ernest softly. "He's as strong as an ox. He'll be up and about in no time, you'll see."

"I hate myself for being so selfish," said Gertrude. "Here I was worried about myself and my situation and there you all were, fighting to destroy a thing that threatened our very existence. Oh Ernest, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry that I wrote to Alex, complaining and acting so badly. I'm so sorry..."

"It is fine now," replied Ernest. "Alex understands that you were anxious and he asked me to assure you that he is not angry with you..."

"He hasn't asked to see me," she replied.

"He's with Marie and the children," he replied. "He hasn't asked to see me yet either, you know..."

Gertrude laughed, "You're right, you're right... how would it look if he asked to see me before he asked to see his wife?"

"Patience," laughed Ernest. "Ever since we were younger, you have never had any patience!"

Lady Gertrude laughed, "You are right, Ernest, I can't argue with you. I promise, I will behave, I promise."

"Good," said Ernest, giving her a quick hug. "Be patient, he'll send for you, you'll see."

With that, he was out the door. Gertrude waited a little while and then rose to leave. Reaching down, she gingerly touched his desk. She had been selfish, she had never meant to be, but she had been. Be patient a little while longer, she counseled herself, when he was well, Alex would set all things right.

### Chapter 28

Captain Fontaine bowed deeply and then rose, "If your highness will allow me to present myself..."

"Present yourself?" laughed the Sultan. "You are mad, Captain, a veritable crazy person! Do you not think I know you? You come from the King of Zambelia's court with a message! Do you like working for him, my friend? If not, you can always come here!"

The Captain thought of being kicked on a regular basis and smiled, "My crew and I appreciate your majesty's most generous offer, but we are happy to report that the King of Zambelia has kept his promise to us and treats us very well indeed."

"Oh well," shrugged the Sultan. "As you wish... Now what of this message you have for me?"

"Please understand, your highness, that my lord, King Alex, is still very ill. He apologizes for not having contacted you sooner, but he wishes to extend to your highness an invitation to join him for a most important announcement which he will make in a week's time at his castle in Wharton. Will you do him the honor of attending?"

The Sultan considered it but a moment, "Of course, I would love to meet with his majesty. He has rid us of a terrible evil; my commander stated that he had never seen a braver or more courageous fighting man than your lord and master. He is a good man, my dear friend. I do not understand why he does not kill his wife, but some people are just strange. Take my late Lord Chancellor, a brilliant man, but he did not understand his place. How can you not understand your place? No matter how I kicked him, he just never understood that there is only one son of the sun and that is me! Finally, I removed his head which is a great irony, the only way that brilliant man could learn the most important lesson was to lose his head with his mind in it! Life is funny, is it not my friend?"

"Not for the late Lord Chancellor, I would imagine," replied Fontaine.

The Sultan considered it, "He never had a sense of humor, so no, I suppose he would have not appreciated it. Very well, tell your master I will honor him with my presence in a week. I look forward to it, my friend, I look forward to it!"

***

It had been two months and while Alex' progress had been slow, it had been steady. Marie awoke late one morning to find him gone and in a panic, jumped from their bed and threw open the curtains. Sitting on her bed was Annalisse, who looked up to her and smiled a beautiful, dimpled smile.

"Where is he?" asked Marie.

"Daddy went out into the garden," she replied.

Marie blinked, "What did you say?"

"Daddy went out into the garden," replied Annalisse. "He got up and Albert and Stasha were just about to take us down for breakfast and he asked if he could go outside for some air and they said to ask you and he said you were asleep and they said don't wake her because she stays up all night taking care of you and you should know all that she does for you and he said I do and I appreciate it and they said you better and he said I do and they said well why don't you let her sleep and he said I think I will and they said okay why don't you go into the garden and have your breakfast there and he said I think I will and they said okay then go outside and we'll bring you something to eat and he said what about Marie and I said I'll wait here to tell you that he went outside and he said okay and he kissed me on the head and he went outside in his robe and I waited here to tell you."

Marie acknowledged the story with a nod and then went and sat down next to Annalisse.

"Sweetheart, did you call Alex, Daddy?" she said softly.

Annalisse looked at her as if she were instructing a slow pupil, "Of course I called him Daddy. You're my Mama and you and he are married; what else would I call him?"

Marie smiled slightly, "Did you actually say it to him?"

Annalisse thought about it, "Yes, this morning I said "Good morning, Daddy" and he smiled and kissed me and said, "Good morning my love" and he hugged me. He's a good hugger, Mama..."

"Yes he is," said Marie softly, tousling her daughter's hair. "He's the best hugger in the world."

"Oh, I almost forgot," said Annalisse absently. "Jonathan went down for his lesson with Albert in case you wanted to know where HE went."

Standing, Marie took her by the hand and laughed, "Thank you. Do you want to help Mommy get dressed?"

Annalisse gave her another radiant smile, "Only if I get to choose what you wear!"

***

Albert sat at the desk in his study, Ernest at his side, the guard timidly taking the chair Ernest had indicated he should use. Ernest smiled at him and guard smiled back, completely unaware that he was in the presence of the fat merchant from Jeftus' dungeon.

"You helped to save him majesty's life," stated Albert.

"And mine," added Ernest.

"You give me too much credit, milord," replied the guard awkwardly. "All I did was help you to carry his majesty out of the burning building. I tried, I admit, to stop him from bleeding, but I'm no doctor and that wound was a gruesome thing..."

"He would have bled to death if it had not been for your help," stated Ernest. "As for me, I would not have been able to carry him by myself and I would not have left him, we would have both perished in the flames if it had not been for you."

"I'm deeply pleased that I could help his majesty," stated the guard. "I was a guard for old Jeftus, not that I liked him, but a man's got to make a living and soldiering is all I know."

"You commanded a troop of men, didn't you?" asked Albert.

"Yes, milord," replied the guard. "I was one of the king's guards and one of his jailors. Protected him and secured his prisoners..."

"As you know, Jeftus' castle was destroyed in the fire," stated Albert. "It is at a strategic crossroads and an important place to have a stronghold."

"Yes, milord, I know," replied the guard.

"It is his majesty's decision that the castle be rebuilt," stated Ernest. "He is sending several of his best architects to create a new fortress on the site."

"I don't know anything about building, milord," replied the guard, "but I would be happy to guard the materials or the men or help to keep the roads open, free from bandits as it were..."

"No," replied Albert, "his majesty has decided to ask you to perform a greater service, if you feel that you are up to the task."

"As milord commands," replied the guard. "I would do anything for his majesty. He did all he could to help my people, anything I could do for him I'd do gladly."

"There would be a need for a military governor to oversee the new fortress and the surrounding area," stated Ernest with a smile. "It would be best if that man knew the area, the people and so on..."

"His majesty was not impressed with the nobles who fought against him," stated Albert quietly. "He thought more of the foot soldiers than he did of the knights who fought for Jeftus..."

"They were a corrupt lot," agreed the guard, who smiled "We used to say that the only good knight was the one who was too feeble to ride his horse, at least they didn't get in the way of the fighting..." Looking up at Ernest and Albert, his eyes grew larger, "I'm sorry, milords, I was talking about the nobles around old Jeftus', not you gentlemen..."

"We understand," replied Ernest, "we have a saying, the only good knight is one spent with a barmaid..."

"I'm not familiar with that saying," stated Albert.

"You don't know many barmaids either," replied Ernest. Leaning closer to the guard, he explained, "He's been married for a hundred and forty eight years, he probably hasn't spoken to a barmaid in at least the last ninety eight of them, so you have to excuse his ignorance..."

"We all have our little crosses to bear," replied the guard with an understanding smile.

"Be that as it may," replied Albert as he rolled his eyes, "his majesty is of the opinion that you would make an excellent military governor for the area."

"Who, me?" asked the guard, taken by surprise by the suggestion.

"Of course you," replied Ernest. "You know the area, the people and their needs, what better person to get the place up and running again?"

"You want me to become his majesty's governor?" asked the guard. "But that's a position a nobleman would warrant..."

"Correct," replied Albert, "so in addition to the title of governor, his majesty intends to knight you and give you the fortress and the surrounding area as your own estate."

"You have gone from useful guard and jailor to useless knight in one afternoon," smiled Ernest. "It is amazing how knowing the king can ruin a man..."

"He wants to knight ME?' asked the guard. "I can't believe it..."

"Why not?" asked Ernest. "He's ruined better men than you. Take a look at Lord Albert here; he was once a respected and beloved citizen, now he is known as the king's advisor. Do you know what a fall from grace that is for a man? He bears it well, but what a horrible thing to happen to an honest man..."

"How can I thank his majesty, milord?" asked the guard. "What could I ever say or do to repay his kindness to me and my family?"

"You will meet with his majesty when he is feeling better and you may thank him then," smiled Albert. "In the meantime, I will help you to prepare for your knighting ceremony and I will explain your new duties to you."

"I will do nothing, but if everything works out well, I will do my best to take the credit," Ernest stated, placing his hand on the guard's shoulder. "In the meantime, listen closely to the Lord Albert, do all that he says and try not to feel too badly about being made a knight. Remember, even if you are a bad knight, you have not fallen so far as to become an advisor."

"Of course," stated Albert, "you could have had been born the king's brother, which as we all know is the worst thing that can befall any man."

"It's not so bad," replied Ernest haughtily. "Other than having to almost get killed by dragons occasionally, it really isn't so awful..."

### Chapter 29

Hand in hand, Marie and Annalisse made their way out into the garden.

"Should we pick some flowers for Daddy?" asked Annalisse.

"I think that would be very nice," replied Marie.

Being Annalisse, she picked quite a bit more than a few and then the two tramped across the yard in search of Alex. Arriving at an opening in the hedge, Marie and Annalisse stepped through and found Alex standing with his arms around Lady Gertrude, holding her tightly. A pang of jealousy struck Marie and she could not contain the gasp that escaped her throat. Lady Gertrude looked up and appeared to panic, but Alex looked up and smiled at her, gesturing her to join them.

"Daddy, I picked these for you," stated Annalisse happily.

"Did you?" asked Alex, leaning over slowly and taking the enormous bouquet from her. "They are beautiful, thank you." Turning to Marie, he leaned over and kissed her lightly on the forehead, "Did you sleep well, my dear?"

Marie controlled her temper with an effort, "Very well, thank you."

"I can't believe that I'm outside again," smiled Alex, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. "I have missed being out of doors. I thought, with the festivities tonight, I should try to walk a little more and get some fresh air."

"If you'll excuse me," said Lady Gertrude, her face reddening, "I must find my father."

"Go right ahead," replied Alex. Gertrude curtsied and left in a hurry.

"Alex," said Marie softly so that Annalisse could not hear her, "why were you hugging Gertrude?"

Alex looked at her, his expression unchanged, "She was upset, she is so emotional. She had not spoken to me since I had gotten back and when she saw me, she started crying, so I just gave her a hug and told her that I was sorry I had not sent for her. It is the first time I have seen her since taking ill..."

Marie frowned, "Alex, you haven't explained to me why tonight is so important. Stasha told me that you have an announcement to make, but even she does not know..."

"My dear," he began uncomfortably, "it would be better if you waited until tonight for the answer to that, now is not the time."

"Alex, I don't like secrets..." began Marie.

He smiled at her weakly, "My dear, I'm sorry, but I think I've overdone it a bit. I feel exhausted, do you mind if I go and lie down?"

Marie grimaced, unsure if he was using his illness as an excuse to avoid a confrontation.

"Of course," she replied stiffly.

"Thank you for the flowers, Annalisse," he called out happily. "I'm going to rest now."

"You're welcome, Daddy," the little girl replied, giving his waist a quick hug and then grabbing her mother's hand. "Mama, look, there are bunny rabbits over there..."

Marie allowed Annalisse to lead her away as Alex walked slowly back through the hedge and out of sight.

***

"I want it on record that I am completely against it," fumed the Duke of Isling. "He can't be serious..."

"It is our lord's command," replied Albert firmly. "I don't agree with the timing, but his highness has instructed us to act upon his order."

"Is this the announcement he intends to make tonight?" asked Sir Chester.

"I believe it is," replied Albert, "but he will not confirm it. He stated only that he wants us to make the necessary preparations."

"There are more important matters that need his immediate consideration," fumed the Duke. "We have not even settled the matter of the conquered lands and he wishes to push that discussion aside in order for us to deal with some personal situation? The matter could wait, Lord Albert..."

"He has been too ill to do much, I know," replied Albert. "He is considering the question of what to do with the conquered lands of Vesek, but apparently he feels this matter must be settled first."

"But why do this now? I think we should advise that he put off consideration of this until later," crabbed the Duke.

"I know the lady and it is a fine choice," stated Sir Chester amicably. "Could she be persuaded to patience, perhaps?"

"The heart wants what the heart wants, gentlemen," replied Albert. "It is his majesty's decision. Perhaps his injuries have prompted his desire to have the matter settled once and with Jeftus and indeed Vesek no more, perhaps he thinks it helps to clear the way for the change he is contemplating..."

"Will he keep the lands then?" asked the Duke.

"I have no idea," replied Albert. "When I speak to him regarding it, he will only say that he will make his decisions known tonight once to all. He is being very secretive, which is not like him..."

"Have you spoken to the Lord Ernest?" asked Sir Chester. "Perhaps he could illuminate us regarding his majesty's intentions."

"He stated that he does not know," replied Albert. "When I pressed him he simply stated that he will do his best to support his brother no matter what he decides..."

"This is insane," replied the Duke. "His majesty has not consulted with the council..."

Albert gave him a rueful smile, "I believe, my friend, that his majesty will not be consulting the council quite as much as he did in the past. A man changes after an experience like the one he has been through. Our lord knows his mind and also knows that life is short; it is a dangerous combination."

***

The two raised platforms sat at a right angle to each other, on one, the Sultan and the commander of his forces and on the other, Alex, Marie and his commanders. The dinner had been a success, all of the courtiers at their fancy dressed, bejeweled best. Despite the best efforts of all of the ladies present, none could compare with Marie's ensemble. As per Alex' request, she had worn the gown that had been given her by the Dragon King, diamonds at her ears, fingers and throat. Her hair cascaded down loosely over her shoulders; a diamond tiara perched upon her head sparkling in the candle light.

Several times during the course of the evening, she had caught the Lord Ernest staring at her intently. Each time, he would smile at her and then purposely look away, only to glance back at her as soon as her attention was elsewhere. While she smiled and played the gracious hostess, her mind was filled with misgivings. Alex was being extremely secretive and had been avoiding conversation with her since this morning. Even the children sensed the change in him and seemed nervous.

As the entertainment began, Alex suddenly rose and excused himself, leaving the hall with Ernest as he sent Albert to make his apologies to the Sultan along with a promise that he would return shortly.

Marie was doing her best to watch the entertainment, a man performing feats of magic, when she noticed that the Countess Bartran was no longer at her seat. A fury arose in Marie and she decided that she had had enough. She would make Alex tell her what was going on if it was the last thing she did.

Signaling to Stasha, she asked her to take her place while she excused herself. Stasha nodded, a knowing look on her face. Marie glided quietly from the hall and took the corridor towards Alex' study. Reaching the study, she found it empty. As she exited she found a servant returning from the kitchen carrying a jug of wine.

"Have you seen his majesty the king?" she inquired.

"He is in the garden, milady," replied the servant.

Marie thanked him and moved swiftly out into the night. A beautiful moon hung in the sky, illuminating the gardens in a bluish glow. Reaching the hedge row, she turned to continue her walk when she saw Lady Gertrude holding hands in the moonlight with a man whose profile was obscured by the hedge.

"Tonight you will be my queen," he whispered huskily.

"Oh, my darling," she replied. "Do they know?"

"Not yet," the man whispered. "All will know once the announcement is made..."

The man stepped forward and kissed her, but he was obscured by the shadows created by the hedge. Marie felt as if she had been stabbed in the heart and wheeling around ran straight into the Lord Ernest. The two stared at each other for a moment, both surprised and a bit embarrassed. To Marie's shock, Ernest suddenly grabbed her and spun her around so that she could see Lady Gertrude locked in a passionate embrace over his shoulder.

Speaking in an urgent whisper, Ernest implored her, "You must trust your husband. I cannot say why I tell you this, in fact, neither of us understands it at this moment, but we will soon. I beg you, mark my words, you must TRUST your husband, your happiness and the happiness of your children depend upon it."

With a slight bow, he released her and strode past her back towards the castle as if nothing had happened. Eyes filling with tears, she stared out at the Lady Gertrude, locked in her lover's embrace. Turning, she began to run back towards the lights inside when she collided with something solid. Arms suddenly embraced her and she found herself, eyes closed, in a passionate kiss. Opening her eyes, she stared up, unable to contain her surprise.

"Alex?"

"Well that's a fine response," he laughed quietly. "A man kisses you with all of his love and you are surprised to find it is your husband?" Leaning down, he kissed her passionately again and drew her close to him. "Is not the moonlight beautiful my love?"

Glancing back over her shoulder, she could see the Lady Gertrude leading someone towards them.

"I am sorry to disturb you," she called out softly.

"You ARE disturbing me," replied Alex with a laugh. "I finally have the chance to hold my wife after weeks of convalescence and you two show up."

"Parker?" whispered Marie, staring at the man holding Gertrude's hand.

"I am sorry we have interrupted your husband, milady," replied Parker with a bow. "We just wanted to thank him again for his generosity to us."

Marie looked from one to the other and than up at Alex, "Your generosity?"

"Parker is to be made a knight on the morrow," smiled Alex. "I had wanted to do so before the trouble that separated us occurred, but I felt I could not take the chance that yet another newly married woman might become a widow..."

"I don't understand," replied Marie. "Parker is not married..."

"But he will be," smiled Alex, looking at Gertrude, "won't he, Countess Bartran?"

"If he knows what is good for him," she replied, wrapping her arms around Parker's waist and hugging him close.

"His highness has given us permission to marry," stated Parker as he leaned down and kissed Gertrude on the forehead. "Through his generosity, I can now offer my love a home and security..."

"And all after I sent Alex the most dreadful, selfish note, complaining about him not making my beloved a knight sooner," stated Gertrude with a blush. "But I will marry my king soon enough, he will be a knight and I..."

"Enough," stated Alex. "You will give away my surprise in a moment and I won't have it."

"Of course not, milord," replied Parker, "we wouldn't dream of spoiling your preparations."

"What surprise, Alex?" asked Marie, feeling small and confused standing next to him.

"Come, my love," he stated simply, wrapping his arm around her and leading them back towards the hall.

Upon entering the hall, Alex moved to the center of the room, dismissing the magician and calling everyone to attention.

"I have an announcement to make," he stated, holding Marie close to him. "First, I would like to thank our friends and allies for joining us in the great victory over the forces that we encountered in our recent campaign. Many brave and skilled warriors fell in battle to remove a great evil from our midst and so that peace might reign in all of our lands." Those assembled broke out into vigorous applause.

"While on campaign, I have learned much about others and about myself," stated Alex. "Perhaps the most important thing I have learned is that a king may have a good horse, or strong armor, or great friends, but he is no true king until he has a queen." Looking down at Marie, he smiled, "I have, through the grace of God, found my Queen and so on the morrow, she will be proclaimed Queen of our Kingdom and crowned in the cathedral."

A roar of approval went up from those assembled; accept of course from the Sultan, who leaned over to whisper into the ear of his commander.

"If she were mine, I would kick her. She will become proud, he will be unhappy, I assure you!"

"Are you sure?" asked Marie, staring at him in amazement.

"I have never been more certain of anything in all of my life," replied Alex. "I love you and I want no titles to stand between us. If I am the king of this land, you must be queen of it as you are the queen of my heart." Lifting her in his arms, he kissed her tenderly as those assembled cheered and hailed the new queen.

***

The coronation took place the next day in the morning, the bishop placing the crown on Marie's head as the crowds cheered throughout the city. Later in the afternoon in the grand hall of the castle at Wharton, Marie performed her first official duty as Queen by knighting Parker, her husband's squire and proclaiming him the Queen's Champion before the entire court.

The newly created Sir Parker received several estates from his king in appreciation for his years of service and his bravery in the campaign against Vesek. That evening, the Count Bartran announced the engagement of his daughter, the Countess Bartran to the newly created Sir Parker.

***

Ernest joined the royal couple in the king's study after the ceremony and laughed.

"A new queen AND a new queen's champion," he mused. "I think you've done yourself an injustice, your most royal highness, Parker is a fine fellow, but he's so preoccupied with Gertrude just now that you had best learn to use a sword yourself and become your own champion."

"He does seem preoccupied," agreed Alex. "They make a fine couple and I wish them the best. They will have chatty children if you ask me. Parker loves to tell stories and Gertrude has been talking non-stop since we were children..."

Ernest and Marie exchanged knowing glances and burst out laughing.

"What is so funny?" asked Alex, thinking his comments had amused them. "I tell the truth. She's a lovely girl, but she'll talk your ears off..."

"Well you'd best get your lady love something to stop her ears with," stated Ernest. "If I understand the rumors correctly, she will be asking Gertrude to be one of her ladies in waiting."

"After I ask Stasha, of course," stated Marie. "I hope it does not upset you."

"Not at all," laughed Alex. "It is why I was upset when the Count asked you to make her part of your household. I thought once you were Queen you would ask her to be one of your ladies in waiting and frankly, the idea of going through TWO ceremonies with Gertrude talking non-stop drove me to distraction."

Marie suddenly flew into his arms and hugged him tightly.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"You say the right thing even when you have no idea that you've said it," laughed Ernest. "You are indeed a lucky man!"

"Speaking of luck," stated Marie. "Those words you said to me in the garden last night..."

"Please don't ask me about it, my dear sister," said Ernest.

"She doesn't have to ask you," said a voice from behind him.

Turning, Ernest saw Donna staring at him happily, "Her majesty and I had quite a talk earlier. You are correct, my love, your brother is a VERY lucky man."

Ernest crossed to her and wrapping her in his arms, kissed her. Turning to Alex, he smiled broadly.

"I am sorry it has taken me so long to deal with your request," said Alex softly. "Due to circumstances beyond my control, it has taken me longer to deal with everything than I ever intended."

"So this means..." began Ernest.

"It means that I want you to be happy," replied Alex, "and if the lady is willing, you both have my blessings and gratitude."

"Will you, my love?" asked Ernest. "Will you marry me?"

Glancing at Marie and Alex, Donna smiled, "If you will have me..."

With a whoop, Ernest twirled her about the study in his arms. Albert entered the room just as Ernest put her down and kissed her yet again.

"I hope he knows the lady," he commented casually to Alex.

"They are acquainted," Alex assured him.

"They are to be married," stated Marie with a smile.

"What has she done to deserve such a punishment?" asked Albert.

"She's guilty of falling in love with him," replied Alex.

"A lesson for us all," replied Albert with a laugh, "crime TRULY does not pay..."

***

As he headed to bed, Albert intercepted the king.

"Are you feeling well, your majesty?" he asked, concern coloring his expression.

"Tired," confessed Alex. "There is still much to do, is there not?"

"We need your decision about the lands you have conquered..."

"Tomorrow," smiled Alex. "Once we have knighted our new military governor, we will begin the rebuilding process. The Sultan is satisfied with retaining the islands off of the coast of Vesek and I think that holding the kingdom in regency for Jonathan might be the wisest idea. I know there is much to consider regarding my son's future, but in the meantime, I will secure what is truly and rightly his. Now forget this for now and go to bed, kiss Stasha good night..."

With a knowing smile, Albert retreated down the stairs and headed for his own rooms.

Entering his bedroom, Alex found his wife sitting beneath the covers of their bed looking more enticing than he had ever seen her.

"How is my Queen this evening?" he asked happily.

"Awaiting her lord," she smiled, slowly letting the sheet slide downwards, revealing her nakedness.

Alex quickly removed his clothing and slid into bed next to her, anxious to make love to her. It would be the first time since he had returned that they made love and he was surprised at how nervous and anxious the idea made him. As soon as their lips met, however, all doubts or nervousness disappeared, replaced by passion. To both of their surprises, their lovemaking was marked with an urgent need that neither had expected, as if the long delay between sessions had starved their bodies of each other.

Alex could not get enough of her; the feel of her skin, the scent and texture of her hair, the glow of her eyes as she reached fulfillment, the cries of pleasure that his actions elicited from her. Every moment, every touch, every embrace left him desperate for more.

Marie matched his desire, longing for the feel of him around her and in her. The touch of his lips, the caress of his hands and fingers, the strength of his body all drove her to distraction. She found she did not wish to restrain her reactions. Secure in her love, she felt free to enjoy and explore each new and powerful feeling.

When at last they fell asleep in each other's arms, she knew a peace and wholeness she had never felt before. After a time, she awoke and stared down at him, marveling at the strength and tenderness she found besides her. Wrapping her robe about her, she moved to a chair near the fire and thought of the events of the day.

To her surprise, the door to their room began to open and out of the darkness, a man entered, his eyes filled with hate.

"Robert," she stated calmly. "Won't you sit down?"

Robert lowered himself onto the chair opposite her and spat into the fire.

"Dirty whore, this is how I find you?"

Marie laughed, "You find me in bed with my husband, my lover and my friend. A man so good, so kind and so much loved that you could never hope to understand what we share."

"I'll teach you to..." he began, reaching for her, but she easily slapped his arm away and laughed again.

"You'll do nothing, Robert," she replied. "You are dead. You cannot harm me, nor my children..."

"OUR children," hissed Robert.

"No," she replied, pointing to the figure sleeping in the bed, "OUR children, Alex and mine. You Robert, you have no children, no heirs, no future and now, no past. You are as dead to them as you are to me. You are forgotten, like a rotten tree or a spoiled piece of fruit, discarded and thought of no more. Now leave and never return."

"Do you think your long armed ape can defend you from me?" sneered Robert as he rose.

"If I asked him to do so, he would gladly rip you in two with his bare hands," replied Marie as she rose. "But I won't bother him with the likes of you..." and drawing back her arm, she balled her hand into a fist and punched him squarely in the face. With a laugh, she saw the blood flowing from his nose and mouth as he reeled backwards in surprise. With her other hand, she reached up and grabbed his hair and striking him again she could not restrain her smile from growing even larger as the flow of blood from his nostrils increased.

"Now get out dog..."

"Marie..."

"Get out I say..."

"Marie!"

Marie blinked and looked up, finding herself in bed, her arms wrapped around her husband's chest. Alex was staring down at her, a perplexed expression upon his face.

"You were laughing in your sleep, Marie," he stated, pulling her closer. "You were smiling and laughing and saying something, but I could not understand what... What, may I ask, is so funny?"

Climbing up his chest, she kissed him passionately.

"It is funny that I'm here with you naked and we are not making love," she replied with a sexy smile.

"Well, that is strange," he replied. "I don't know how funny it is, but I think I know a way to help you keep your smile."

She kissed him and jumping up, straddled him as she laughed, "You, my darling, always make me smile..."

###

I would like to thank you for reading "The Royal Consort". I hope that you have enjoyed this novel and I invite you to let me know what you thought of it. Please feel free to drop me a line via mailto:maczazski@hotmail.com. If you have enjoyed this romance novel, perhaps you would also enjoy it's sequel, "The Queen's Decision". As an incentive, I have included an excerpt of "The Queen's Decision", I hope you will enjoy it and consider purchasing it and continuing the adventure started in "The Royal Consort".

In addition to "The Queen's Decision", I have also written other romance novels, including "The Return" as well as the "Remembering" series, all of which are available at many fine ebook retailers. Thank you again for choosing "The Royal Consort"; I look forward to hearing from you!

THE QUEEN'S DECISION - an excerpt

The two women could see the villagers marching through the pitch blackness that had engulfed the forest, torches held high as they advanced on the house from both the front and the side. Illuminated by the torches they carried alone, the crowds faces were distorted by weird and savage shadows, the air filled with smoke and the loud and angry shouts of the crowd.

"They'll be here in a minute, Elizabeth," whispered the older of the women urgently. "What are we going to do?"Dropping the curtain, she began wringing her hands rapidly, "I am too old for this..."

Behind her stood a woman of uncommon beauty, her long blonde hair cascading down her back, her snug fitting dress revealing an enviable figure. Her face was as perfect as her form and her dark eyes were filled with a soft glow as she watched the lights drawing nearer.

"So they figured things out at last," she mused. "Oh well, I suppose even fools must be allowed their occasional say..."

"They're going to do a lot more than say," growled the older woman. "They're going to kill us..."

"They'll want to kill us, but they won't," replied Elizabeth. "You forget that I possess the gift..."

"Imperfectly," snarled the older woman. "If you had only studied..."

The younger woman's eye's flared as she spoke, "I refuse to be instructed by those who are less intelligent! All that you have you owe to me and my gift!"

Pulling back the curtain the old woman pointed at the angry crowd, "Including that!"

Stepping away from the window, the older woman looked longingly at the rear door of the small home before moaning, "Why did you have to abuse them? Your gift could enhance life and yet you use it to destroy it. With your gift we could make friends and live in peace and comfort but no, you have to cause problems, you want to be noble..."

"I will not muck in with the simple folk," sneered Elizabeth. "I am noble..."

"You know you are not noble born..." began the older woman.

"Enough!" snapped Elizabeth. "They are almost here, it is time to leave."

Turning quickly, she stooped and picked up a small sack that held all of her necessary possessions. Another retreat, another escape, her mind raged, well next time will be different. Fools, ignorant fools, she would have her revenge...

The older woman turned to follow but found her legs unable to move. Grabbing at her thighs, she tried frantically to lift her feet from the floor but found them stuck as if bound to it by chains.

"Elizabeth!" she hissed, her realization swiftly followed by a blind terror.

"They will need someone on whom to take out their anger," stated Elizabeth, a wicked smile darkening her features. "I've grown tired of your insolence, so we part company here."

"ELIZABETH!" screamed the older woman, but Elizabeth was already out the back door and headed for the woods.

The older woman screamed as the window beside her shattered, the torch thrown through it igniting the curtains before it landed on the floor just a few feet from her. As more torches came through the windows, the sound of breaking glass competed with her screams until the sound of the spreading flames drown out her cries completely. Within minutes the room and the woman were aflame.

In the woods behind the house, Elizabeth turned once to look at the flames and then continued down the path. She would have to leave the country, she would head south to the former Kingdom of Vesek; it would be safe there. It would be a long journey, but she would start anew and if the reports she had heard were correct, this new land offered some interesting opportunities.

Hearing the sound of rushing steps, she placed her bag on the ground, swiftly running her hands through her long blonde hair. As she did so, her hair changed to a dark, matted red. Sweeping her hands down the front of her dress, her body began to bloat, becoming heavier and shorter, the cloth of the dress expanding and turning to a worn blue as if it had been washed too many times. Turning, she faced the villagers who were running up behind her as she wiped her hand across her beautiful face. When she removed her hand her face appeared bloated, old and heavy.

"I seen her," she yelled in a rasping voice, pointing down the path. "She was headed that way, down there! It was the old one, I couldn't hold her, she had a knife..."

"You're sure?" yelled out one of the men. He stopped before her and examined her under the light of the torch.

"She was running away," replied Elizabeth. "She said the sorceress was still in the house. She went that way..."

"Come on men, after her!" snapped the man and the group took off at a run.

Elizabeth watched them fade quickly into the darkness. When the footsteps had died away, she smiled and turned south towards Vesek. In Vesek she would seek out her true future, the future of one nobly born...

***

It was a small house, tumble down but clean inside. The hearth was swept and the small table, though worn and nicked, held a vase filled with wild flowers. The elderly woman who sat at the table was thin and bent, her white hair sparse, her skin pale save for the dark spots that freckled her forehead. Her dark eyes stared out of deep sockets that sat on either side of a prominent nose. Wrapped in a dark, worn shawl, she stared at the beautiful woman and large, strange looking farmer who stood in the doorway.

Slowly stretching her withered arm forward, she took the small leather bag from the woman and smiled a toothless smile.

"Thank you, m'dear," she said in a whispery voice. "Can't work anymore, too old and I've got no one..."

"I don't want you to worry about that," replied the beautiful lady with a smile. "Is the boy running errands for you as we arranged?"

The old woman nodded, "He's a good boy, won't take anything for all the work he does, a good boy he is..."

"And the woman, does she bring you your food every night?"

"And at lunchtime, too... She makes the food soft, I can't chew too well on account of I have no teeth anymore..."

"I know, dear, it's all right," said the beautiful lady. "As long as you're feeling better and eating, that's all that matters. Now I'll be back next week, if you need anything in the meantime you tell the boy and he'll come fetch me, all right?"

"Yes, my dear, of course," whispered the old woman. Grasping the beautiful lady's hand, her eyes began to tear, "I don't know why you're so good to me, you don't even know me..."

"You deserve some happiness, my dear. You've worked so hard, now I want you to rest..."

The beautiful lady rose and leaning over, kissed the old lady on top of the head. Quickly she swept out of the door, the large odd looking farmer following behind her.

"We must get back to Wharton now," said Marie regretfully as they began walking down the street. "I have a meeting with the Duke to discuss finances."

"So only sixteen today," grinned Brogdan. "And tomorrow..."

"There are always more to help," replied Marie, "but I can't forget about my obligations at court. His majesty dislikes finance, for all of his many good qualities he has no patience with numbers. It is just a way to help him..."

"And everyone else in the kingdom," replied Brogdan. "We're fortunate to have you, milady, that's a fact."

Marie smiled, "I'm the fortunate one. I live in a beautiful home with a beautiful family with a kind and generous husband. I will never take that for granted, Brogdan. I know from experience how bad things can be, I will never be less than thankful for how good they are..."

