098 – A Queen's Transformation

  Swiftly his mind raced to some old memories. Karen had not grown up in Skarg. proper but in the area beyond, so she had never seen The Queen as human. But the memory was of the guard having sex with a beautiful black-haired woman. But only once, as the binding of him to her service. Then Karen guided his dream to the time when The Queen changed, and what she did to accomplish this. His memories again played out, Karen now in his perspective, with commentary from his memories.

   This guard watched as The Queen stood in her chamber. All was prepared. She was looking herself over in the mirror, admiring her flesh for the last time. She had worked hard to stay fit, young looking and strong. She regularly commented about how she was still desirable above all others to her husband, The King. Three virgin women had sacrificed their blood three separate times for that. Now, though, she commented on a different desire burning in her heart. Age was continuing its inexorable march, dragging her to eventual ill health, ruin and death. She had lost her interest in The King. He still held the seat of power, but their almost twenty year union had proven a barren one, and she wanted to have offspring as strong as she which would strengthen her. The dark arts had led her to an answer. It had taken some time to find the answer, and then to find it palatable. But now she found it desirable, more than anything else.

  Briefly other memories flitted past of the dark haired Queen reading and doing research. Then the narrative returned, as did the guards commentary.

  The preparations were accomplished, and she was ready. The last thing to be done was this last ceremony. The warlock and witch were waiting, as was the sacrifice, and the rest of her personal guard.

  Karen had to suppress the thought that this man had been in the queen's personal guard and thus her personal company for near twenty years, lest it direct his dream to other less needful memories

  The witch had helped her bathe, and purify her body this morning, then departed to the Arbor for the final preparations. Now The Queen looked her naked body over for the last time in this flesh.

  Karen dove into peoples dreams rare enough that it was always uncomfortable, like swimming naked in ice water, or more so swimming in someone else's body in the ice water. But she always marveled at how much meaning she picked up, as opposed to just the memories of the observable.

  The Queen put on the black silk shift and her black robe and left the chamber, her entourage stepping in to plate to escort her. She entered the Arbor and walked to its center. The guards had seen to the Arbor’s construction on an unimproved section of the fortress island, after the pattern of an orchard she had spent her childhood in. After the conquest of her father’s kingdom, and its mergence to Krogg, the Crown Prince had taken her to the same orchard and raped her, claiming her as his own conquest, or so her story was told to her guards. She had been at Crown Prince's side ever since helping his rise to King, and had come to love him, and by extension her own power. Now she was going to gain her own measure of power, though shared with a different lord.

  In the center of the Arbor she had a place cleared and prepared. One tree stood in the middle. It was a relatively young tree, of an old species that would grow tall and straight. A monarch of the forest found and transplanted here especially for this. It stood nearly four stories tall, with a trunk small enough to reach completely around. The bottom half of the trunk just went straight up, before any branches came out. These branches then spread to a ball of branches and leaves around the top of the tree.

  The warlock and witch had been drawing on the ground around the tree and laying patterns in the soil; a sigil for summoning. One of the carpenters, working with a woodsman had carved a spot on one side of the tree earlier this morning; where the sacrifice would be bound to the tree. As she stood and watched the witch and warlock finished their preparatory chanting. A low level of static charged the air around them. Then the witch motioned and others of The Queen’s guard brought the sacrifice.

  He was a loyal, willing young man, chosen for just those qualities. He also had spent the morning purifying himself. He removed his black robe, letting it fall to the ground. He wore nothing, and his freshly shaved head gleamed slightly. He walked across the boundaries of the magic circles, and the sigil, on a proscribed path. He stopped in front of the tree, and turned his back to it. The cuts in the trunk matched his head, neck, back, and part of his legs. The witch and warlock backed him against the tree, and then produced knives. They sketched from the top of his head down to his legs, where his body touched the tree, with the sharp blades. They had him step forward, and used magic to peal the skin from his head to his legs, along the line they cut, exposing his flesh and blood. The removed skin was placed on the side of the tree opposite the young man as he was backed against it again. The witch and warlock chanted and danced around the tree and young man one complete revolution. The young man spoke his one line, inviting acceptance of his offering to this daemon.

  For a moment, nothing happened.

  Then the young man grimaced in pain, as the tree convulsed. In a spurt of energetic growth the tree expanded to twice its width, its roots writhing across the sigil to trace it themselves. Its height increased and it shot out several new branches. The young man sagged a bit, but under his skin it looked like myriad shoots connected to the tree where their raw flesh had been touching. His head was immobile, looking straight at The Queen. Then his mouth moved. The voice was still that of the young man, but with more behind it.

  “What would you have of me, mortal?”

  The witch and warlock remained silent. Only The Queen had its attention.

  “I would have the power of life. The strength of the trees.”

  “What do you offer to me, that I should grant you this?”

  “In this flesh I am barren. In the Power of Life I would have seed. I offer that, and my free will unto thee.”

  The young man/tree stood quiet for a moment, and then spoke again. “Of your own free will, approach.”

  The Queen dropped her robe, and then removed the shift. Naked she followed the same path the young man had earlier. As she approached, she observed that his penis went erect.

  “Make your offering,” the voice intoned.

  She stepped up and mounted. His arms wrapped her, holding her against him. She put her arms around him, and clutched at the trunk. She began grinding against him, reveling in the pleasures she was experiencing. She put her mouth over his, and sought out his tongue.

  The guard remembered the voice came to his mind

  “Your offering is accepted.”

  The arms moved to her thighs, and lifted her off her feet, pulling her closer against the young man/tree. She wrapped her legs around his hips. And her transformation began.

  Again the guard remembered thoughts coming into his mind.

  First the Queen's voice. “For your strength I also offer the two in the circle. One willing and knowing, the other not.”

  “Accepted.”

  Karen was not sure how much of what she was experiencing was memory experienced then or understanding added later on as the guard learned more.

  The guard watched the witch watching as the young man writhed some in response to The Queen. Then the tree groaned. The daemon now within drawing power, a breath before a cry. The tree’s structure suddenly changed again, consuming the flesh of the young man, melding it with its own, wrapping around The Queen. It covered her completely. Then the entire tree began to glow. The warlock gave a startled yell and fell over as the roots grabbed his feet. The tree’s roots and branches pulled the witch and warlock against the trunk, and the bark quickly cut through their clothes.

  The witch had known this was the cost of this summoning, though the warlock had not. The reward for her was death. For her order it would be very great. The bark retracted, scraping off all the skin that it touched, and the meat of the tree within expanded, growing into her flesh. It was rapid enough to be nearly painless.

  With the added mass and energy from these two, as well as the young man, and all the mana already organized and arrayed, the daemon had more than enough strength. The tree’s trunk expanded by the width of the bodies it consumed, and its height near doubled. More branches sprouted at normal points.

  When The King had asked what happened, he was told the truth. When he ordered the tree destroyed they threatened his life, and to reveal what The Queen knew of his doings that would get him dethroned at the least. So he yielded and left.

  Three complete days passed.

  Four members of The Queen’s bodyguard stood vigil in turn. The tree had been quiet after it had consumed the warlock and witch, and finished its initial spate of growth from that.

  Now The King stood with his own guard as the four from The Queen’s guard stood by the tree waiting. Slowly an outline on the trunk became discernible. Body, arms, legs, head, more.

  Like a person releasing a grip, the bark of the tree relaxed and contracted from the form. Its back was to them. First six tubes stood up from its back, then the tail tensed and wings spread. The head rolled back, and the entire creature stretched for its first time, an infant from the womb. It stepped back, and caught hold of the tree as its balance wobbled. Two thickly muscled legs, with high set barbed heals and large toes moved to a wide stance. The tail had a stinger on its end, and swished some as the wings flexed. It stood as tall as the tallest man there, its body shape looked feminine, and covered in bark. After a moment, it turned around.

  The Queen looked at the ten people there to greet her, and smiled. She worked her arms to get some stiffness out. Then her second set of arms. These had some wing to them that looked more like leaves. These limbs had stiff wrists and long single edged blades instead of hands. The third set of limbs at her shoulders had the wings attached to them. Her tail seemed to move almost on its own to balance against her arms movements.

  The voice seamed to speak directly into the guard’s mind.

  “Your structure is not suitable for flight, but it does have the strength you desire.”

  She looked herself over, also noting that her body was now covered in a thin bark. Her long black hair was gone. The Queen took a deep breath and the guard saw the air flow through the six tubes on her back, around her ribs, and to her lungs.

  “Well. It’s done.” She looked at the guards and smiled again. Then at The King, still smiling.

  The King scowled, then turned and left, his guards following him.

  Karen understood from these memories that the guard did not know or care about the magic specifically involved. Only that The Queen now sleeps within the orifice for her in the trees trunk, of necessity.

  She had the dungeons emptied, and the prisoners crucified in the arbor. She occasionally took one and attached that person to her own tree. In the fourteen years since, the tree has grown, so also The Queen has gotten powerful. Not fully a magic user, but very strong.

   Karen was surprised to find veiled disgust and contempt in the guards thoughts. She finished her intrusion by quickly bringing him back to the woman in his arms, and letting his mind go from there.

  Karen returned to the world, finding all as it should be. She pulled the harlot from her imposed sleep back to where she had been. Then she left the room and slipped out of the barracks area.

099 – Within The Queen's Chambers

  Karen had to prowl the palace wings and corridors a bit and pace the patrolling guards, before finally arriving on the second level of the residence wing, and the chambers set aside specifically for The Queen. These were directly adjacent to The Kings chambers. At first, Karen was surprised that there were no guards standing outside the doors to either chambers. She put that aside and set to work. Here Karen had to break in. She focused her talents and senses and felt the mechanism, then focused on the tumbler that the key would engage, aligning its lock pins, turning the tumbler, and causing the mechanism to open. She took the door handle, and carefully opened the door enough to slip through, and closed and then relocked the door.

  These were not the rooms Karen had officially visited earlier; those were in another wing. These were the unused Queen's Bed and Dressing Chambers. These had been unused since she took up residence in the Arbor. Karen recognized these chambers from the guard's dream.

  This first chamber was a wide, narrow sitting room; the inner wall behind Karen and two at either end of the chamber rose two floors worth to the ceiling. The opposite facing wall of this part of the room only went up one level and traversed the room the long way; the side facing this part appeared to be lined with shelves, contained a fire place for either end of the room and had arched double doors in the middle. The overall chamber was spatially subdivided into rooms.

  This chamber was open for its width, with two sitting rooms to either end clustered around the fireplaces and shelves that lined all the walls. In between was a greeting foyer. Almost half of the furniture had been removed over the years, the rest was covered by loose fitted dust covers. All the hangings and painting that would have hung on the walls had been removed.

  Her senses identified the outer two thirds of the overall chamber on this main level was divided into three approximately equal rooms.

  Karen went through large double doors between the shelves and into the center room, it being a changing and dressing room. These three rooms were only one story tall. The dressing room opened through arches into the other rooms on either side, on the left was a bathing room, on the right the bed chamber. All three of these rooms had large windows looking out into the gardens below. The window curtains had all been removed. Moonlight came through the partial overcast of clouds lighting the chamber dimly.

  Karen moved deeper into the dressing chamber, looking in the chests and wardrobes. Everything in the room was covered in dust. Some periphery memories from the guard said The Queen rarely wore any fabric now, so what little was here was too old to be of use to Karen’s investigation. Karen dug through what she could find, but the majority of the psychometric information was of the attendants who had last handled the cloth.

  Moving on from here, Karen looked over the bath chamber, but it was clean, though covered in a layer of dust. A medium sized fire place mirrored the one on the other side of the wall. The larger pieces of furniture, chairs, tables, and such, were covered in dust clothes.

  In the bed chamber, the large four post bed was bare. The mattress had been removed, and the canopy taken down. From the memory of the guard, there were several pieces of furniture absent, probably moved elsewhere, or possibly destroyed. As in the bath chamber, there was a fire place that mirrored the sitting room side.

  Karen went back to the sitting rooms. The two conversation areas were defined by groups of couches and chairs around tea tables, each facing one of the fire places. Now there was enough in the room to make one complete setting, and a little more, but all spread out. From either side of the double doors into the dressing chamber, behind the bookshelves, a pair of stair cases ascended up to the floor above, over the outer rooms. There were support pillars that echoed the arches between the rooms that rose from the wall, demarcating the space above in thirds. Karen figured the fire place chimneys must be diverted to go up those.

  Karen climbed up the stairs over the bed chamber and found an open area across the whole, like the sitting room below, though with pillars and arches demarcating three areas two stories high. The inner wall extended high enough to have a comfortable bench along its whole length. The fireplaces up here echoed the location and size of the fireplaces in the bathroom and bedroom below. The windows on this level were taller than the ones in the three rooms below. Also two sets of doors led out onto the battlements of the fortress.

  As Karen looked over the furniture and arrangement, and compared the memories of the guard, this was The Queen’s primary study and sitting room, and private eating and entertaining area. Again some of the furniture had been removed. But some work tables and book shelves were arranged into an office or study and library over the bed chamber.

  Karen moved into the study and found that while most of the furniture had dust clothes, about half of the shelves here were still occupied with things; like below most of the shelves had been cleared of books and decorations. It looked to Karen that this part of the room was still used occasionally, as one book shelf did not have any dust on it.

  Karen opened the dust free books and found a journal of several volumes. She paged through it looking for the entries about the transformation. The text was almost impossible to read in the dim light, but Karen’s psionic senses helped; she could read the ink on the page, as easily as see the dark on the light. She also took psychometric impressions with her other senses as she went. The early ones were of the same black-haired woman from a teen up to her mid 40’s. It was in a slightly stilted script. Not the flowing script of a trained scribe. This was The Queens own handwriting. The Queen was a complex, though straight forward personality. She wanted much, and moved methodically to get it. Then in the middle of the last volume she found the transformation notes and some of the setup.

  Paging slowly through it Karen found a detailed record of The Queen’s preparations and of what she expected would happen. The last entry was from the morning that she performed the ceremony. This entry posed the one note of fear in the whole sordid array. Fear that the daemon would not do as she desired. There were no further entries past that point. Karen put that volume back and pulled out the next one.

  The first entry was the day after she first emerged. It was a joyfully incoherent rhapsody to the daemon. Evidently The Queen had an initial hard time filtering between her own thoughts, and the daemon. The subsequent volumes were of the transformed Queen. They radiated a guiding of malevolence to all else within them. This confirmed to Karen what the viceroy had said. The two were bound; killing The Queen would first require banishing the daemon. There were ways to do that.

  Karen’s senses suddenly alerted. She sensed a strong presence scanning in her direction. Karen first jumped to the ceiling above her, concentrating on inverting her personal gravity. She turned to face the presence, while instinctively moving to a darker area among the stone rafters, and psionically shielding herself further. The two moons casting light into the room showed nothing in the room with her, short of some kind of invisibility. But magic or more so minds were still detectable, at least in presence, to a psionic talent. And she sensed none in here with her. She found herself looking out the windows and at the tree.

  There was a bastion wall between here and the arbor. The tree stood nearly as tall as the tallest tower on the fortress around it. Its branches did not spread far from the trunk. Only about three lengths of a person, splitting several times along the length. And they were spaced evenly around the whole of the central trunk.

  A sense of some kind of general scan seemed to come from it. But on a magic level that Karen had never experienced before. She had directly experienced a kind of magic similar, once, recently. That was not a pleasant memory.

  Karen moved to the darkest area of the room, and dropped two stories back to the floor. She then concentrated on the journal, memorizing the last entries, about The Queen’s transformation and the bond to the daemon. That done, she moved back to the study area and put the journal back on its shelf.

  Karen then scanned the room, to be sure she was not leaving any residue of her own. Beyond in the hall, two guards were approaching, on patrol. And yet the tingle of mortal danger lingered. She dismissed going through the fire place, and chimney. Those were barred against such, and finding the hidden bolt hole would take too long.

  Karen blocked the brooding malevolence and focused on the hall outside. The guards had passed, the next set was not yet to the corner. Karen worked the lock, eased the door open, tripped the lock, and slipped back out of the room. She psionically held the door latch to keep it quiet, then slunk down the hall pacing the patrolling guards, shrouding herself as she went.

  Karen made her way into the garrison of The King’s Guard. This was in a different wing from the Queen's personal guard. She put aside what she had learned about the Queen to focus on what she could learn about the Kind and his potential weaknesses.

  After surveying the garrison's barracks, she selected a member of The King’s Guard, and dove into his dream as she did the member of The Queen’s Guard. This was a simpler probe.

  This one had not been in attendance at The Queen’s doings, he was too young. However she did learn from him that The King had long since given up any hope of a relationship with The Queen, beyond a formal one. Even before she transformed she had left his bed. He had expressed regular hope to grow old with her. Now he quietly hoped to outlive her, that someone might figure out how to kill her, and banish the abomination from his castle.

  Also the King treated his guardsmen like fellows, honored them, and was loyal to them. As such they were professionally loyal to him. The King seamed to long for the battlefield, and still wore armor regularly. He tried to dress as the guard did, but accepted that his station required fancier dress. He practiced on the same pitches and fields as the guard.

  She also found that the King kept a regular concubine.

  Karen knew as well as anyone in Krogg that the armed services were co-ed, and mostly segregated by sex. She was mildly surprised to learn the open secret among the guards that the King's concubine was an officer on his Personal Guard. She passed by this information as it did not appear to have any current bearing.

  Deciding that there was nothing to learn here, Karen extracted herself from the man's dreams.

138 – Lunch with a King

  Steven and Alex were carried into the fortress away from the group Rox and Diana were in. Steven was not yet concerned with Rox and Diana. So long as they were together, he felt they would come out all right. Steven and Alex’s procession went up a large stair way, down a hall, and around and up several smaller stairs ways. Finally they were brought into a private banquet hall. From his last time in the palace, Steven figured they were in a non-public wing.

  This was a medium sized hall with windows on one side; rows of tables were arranged around the room. The cage did not allow much detailed examination of the room. The procession entered on the short end of a long room, and turned to the left and proceeded around the outside perimeter of the room under the tall windows. As they turned, Steven was able to get a look at Alex. He was visibly scared, but not panicked. As he looked at the trophies on the inner walls Steven realized that the styles were too diverse to have all come from local smiths. They had come from conquered armies. Steven wondered where his and his son’s swords might go, if they stayed. He then wondered just how this was going to turn out.

  Their cages were marched around the hall and the tables and stopped at the corner of the row. There was a man in rich dress standing to receive them. The cages were set down. The litter with all their stuff was put down on a side table in front of the man.

  The man looked the litter over. He drew Alex’s sword from the pile, and set it aside, apparently recognizing its general origin. He then drew Steven’s sword out, and unsheathed it. He tested it, feeling its weight and balance. He then turned it over in his hand admiring the blade and the hilt. For all of its history, so far as Steven knew it, it was a very plain sword; purely functional and sharp.

  He put the sword down on the pile and stepped away. He ordered Steven and Alex’s pants pulled from the pile and given to them as he moved to the chair at the head of the table, where a steward helped to seat him.

  Two guards each pulled Steven and Alex out of the cages, took the blankets, unbound their arms, and handed them each a pair of trousers. One ankle at a time was unbound then rebound as they put the pants on. Steven then tried to move to his son’s side, but was held to his place. Despite being bound and separated, Steven still felt upbeat.

  The cages were taken beside the fire place on the inner wall and dismantled, the component wood stacked for the fire.

  The man watched Steven and Alex. “I am the king of this country. Please sit down.”

  The King had been toying with some food after sitting down. He motioned Steven and Alex to some spots on the side as more food was brought in. The tables were arranged in two concentric U’s. The King sat to the center of the outer base.

  Stewards took up place near an entrance across the room from Steven. The remaining guards scattered, with two flanking Steven and Alex holding on to the chains as they sat down; Alex moved to Steven’s right, away from the King. They were close enough to converse, with slightly loud projected voices, and so the King did as he commenced to eat.

  “After you retrieved your children, why did you come here?”

  Steven smelled the meat. It did not smell foul, so he took some and a roll and made a sandwich of it. Alex followed suit.

  Steven then spoke. “We figured that your troops would continue to pursue us. So we decided to cut the pursuit short and come see you in person.”

  The three ate for a moment.

  “What do you hope to accomplish?”

  “This prophecy we learned about, that told of all this. We hoped to speed its end. And end all the silly chasing around. We came to stop you and yours.”

  They continued eating.

  Just then, Roxanne and Diana’s stuff flashed and disappeared from the litter. The flash got the attention of all in the room.

  The King looked at the two guards by the main door. “Send to see what is going on down there.”

  One of the guards left the room. Steven and Alex looked at each other as the guard ran by.

  “Mom’s causing trouble again.”

  “I dare say she is.”

  They ate and finished their sandwiches. There was not anything else to do until they could get to their swords.

  A guard came back, running, and slid to a stop near the end of the table by that entrance. “The mother and the Queen fight.” A nearby explosion punctuated the report.

  Alex smiled again. “Mom’s causing trouble.”

  The King smiled at Alex’s boldness then turned back to the guard. “The Queen can take care of herself. But have guards ready to enter the Arbor should she loose.”

  The guard saluted and left as fast as he came.

  The King looked at Steven. “If the Queen wins, you will be joining her. Your son will stay here and be taught all he needs to. If your wife wins, she will be brought before us.”

  Steven thought about this. Then decided that now was as good a time as any. He grabbed the chains and yanked them out of his captor’s hands. He stood and used the chains to thrash the guard to his left, and moved for his sword. None of the guards moved to stop him save the one by the litter. Steven lowered his shoulder into him and smashed him into the wall. Steven then had his own sword in hand and turned to face any comers. There were several arrows ready, but all waited.

  Only the King moved, having yelled for his men to stay as they were. He stood from the table, and drew his sword from where it had been put down. He then pointed to the guard that Steven had not attacked. “You. Unbind his chains, and take them away.”

  Steven was not sure of this, but let it happen. He then scooped up his shirt and pulled it on. He shifted hands with his sword, not wanting to set it down. He stepped back to the table, and tossed down a drink. It was a weak wine. It cleared his mouth, and deadened his thirst.

  Steven was now as ready as he was going to get a chance to be. He turned to face the King, who had come to the head of the isle between the table and the wall.

  “It had been a while since I have been on the battle field, or a dueling pitch. I could have my guards shoot you down now, but that would not be personally satisfying.”

  They saluted each other as they stood. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Both men took that as the cue to close the distance and commence, their movements punctuated by the ring of their swords. Both realized that they wielded the wrong swords for actual fencing, and so moved toward a style more fit for their weapons.

  Steven was quickly aware that this man had more skill and experience. Steven was younger and thus better shape, but that was dulled by 6 days in a cramped cage with barely any water or food. He gave ground, as he got warmed up. Then he realized that he did not have to win. Just stay alive until Alex could get into this.

  The King was simply enjoying the challenge, though he quickly realized his advantage. And that for what ever reason the magic of his equipment was not running. So much more the challenge.

  Steven relaxed as best he could and watched his opponent, working to get to the level of perception where he could see the moves start. Once he got there it did not make things easier, just less strenuous to defend against. Fighting with broad swords was going to wear both men out. Not that they really fenced with them; it was more like knocking the other person’s sword aside and see whether you could then hurt him. Steven knew he needed help, and Alex was all he was going to get. He stepped in and body checked the king against the wall, then ran for the pile of stuff. He knocked the guard there a second time, and took the top off another’s helmet while knocking that one’s sword aside.

  He grabbed the hilt of Alex’s sword and pulled it from the pile swinging the whole pile aside and right into the King, using the sheathed sword for a club to knock the man over. One of the packs came open, spilling its contents. More thunder sounded. Closer this time.

  Steven went to the table, clubbing one of Alex’s guards away, and stabbing the other causing his retreat. He put the sheathed sword down in front of Alex, and vaulted the table. “Cut the chains with your sword, and join me.”

  Steven then backed away down the isle, as the King had vaulted the table and was coming after him. They continued their duel with more vigor. The guards tried to move to aid their Liege, but he ordered them to stop and stand away.

  Alex drew his sword and ducked under the table. He turned to the bindings on his ankles, and cut the leather straps. One of the guards tried to drag him out by his chains, but only got just the chains and bindings. He tried to reach in after Alex, and got his hand sliced for it. Free of his restraints, Alex finished crossing under the table. As he started to get to his feet he felt the hair on his body start to rise, and he dropped to the floor covering his ears.

  Two loud successive crashes of thunder shattered all the glass in the windows and on the table.

  All in the room were staggered by the crashes, including Steven and the King. No glass fell off the table, or went beyond it from the windows, leaving Steven and the King a clear isle to fight in. Somehow the two had turned around and Steven was backing toward Alex. There were more than just guards in the hall now as ministers and bureaucrats had come to watch. Alex wanted to do something, but hide under a table was all he could think to do. As his dad and the King got back to where he was another crash of thunder went through the hall but this one sounded different than the rest.

  Steven and the King went past, and Alex waited where he was for a moment. He then tried to grab the King’s legs, as Steven tried a lunge. Steven missed. The King just shook Alex off and into some chairs.

  Neither man spoke, neither needing to. They stood with swords ready for a moment, breathing hard. Then they continued, swords ringing. Both starting to get through the others defenses and show nicks and cuts. Their swords were not in the best of shape either; broad swords were battlefield weapons, not dueling pitch weapons. Whenever Steven tried to choke up and on his sword, or otherwise close the range, the King was able to defend against it, risking Steven’s fingers. Alex got up from the chairs, holding his sword at an instinctive ready and followed the King.

  Steven was at the cross isle of the tables when he saw Alex peripherally, then had to change his attention as a change came over Alex’s face. He looked more serious and solemn than ever before. Suddenly Steven was more concerned over Alex than he was of this King.

  The King saw the diversion of Steven’s attention and was about to take advantage of it, when he suddenly felt he better see what would divert Steven’s attention. He deflected Steven’s sword wide away, and used the momentum to spin on one foot to see behind him. It was only the boy with his sword.

139 – Cleaning up and Getting out

  As the King turned back to face Steven he realized his mistake.

  Steven watched Alex strike and wondered whether the sword glowed for a moment as it struck home, coming a hand span out of the man’s chest. Steven stood with his sword ready, but was of no more interest to the King.

  He turned to face Alex who still held his sword and was pulled off his feet. The inertia of the spin carried Alex away from the King taking the sword with. The King never completed his turn as he collapsed. Alex and the sword parted as he crashed into the table, his sword clattered to the floor beside a chair.

  Steven looked around for a moment, and went around the body of the King to his son, who was coming back to himself.

  “Did I get him, Dad?”

  Steven hugged his son. “Yes. You got him.”

  Steven looked up at the guards while holding his sword at ready. They all stood around, unsure what to do. Steven looked at the dead King, then back to the guards. He decided to play a gamble.

  “My son killed him. So he is now your leader.” He said this as matter-of-factly as he could.

  The guards were unsure, so they stood their ground. The guard sergeant in the room was one of the men that had been with the company that captured and held them. He took charge of the others and told them to hold their distance. Some had arrows at ready, but were not sure whether to respond to the King’s death, or to the order to stand down. The bureaucrats and ministers were huddling and talking, as several of the guards turned to push them back out of the room.

  Steven knew one thing to be done. Taking Alex in his arm he stepped past the body then put Alex down. Steven went around the end of the tables and past some broken glass on the floor, picked up a napkin from the table and used it to wipe the spots of blood from his sword. Alex came to his father’s side having retrieved his own sword, and likewise wiped his sword clean. They then walked over to the scattered contents of the litter, being careful of the all the broken glass to do so.

  Steven and Alex picked through their stuff, and found their boots and a shirt for Alex. That done they located their scabbards, and sheathed their swords. Steven put on his girdle with his scabbard and holstered pistol. Alex wrapped the belt his scabbard hung from around him.

  Before long the guards had a cordon at the door but this did not stop others from looking in, or talking. The guards also removed their wounded comrades. They then moved to gather the body of the King.

  Steven desperately wanted to go find Rox and Diana, but was not sure that the guards would allow that. Then the Guard Captain showed up. He looked at the dead King, and at Steven and Alex picking through the King’s plate of food and the platter beside it, as the other platters had glass on them. The Sergeant who had been in the room filled the Captain in on events. Steven watched the indecision come to a resolution. The King’s body was taken away.

  The Chief of the Bodyguard of the King entered the room, and seeing his master dead, and Steven the lone stranger, charged him. Other guards tried to hold him back, but he threw them off. As he charged up the aisle sword ready to swing, Steven stood on old reflex, his right hand going to his belt but not to his sword. As the man got close enough to isolate the target from those behind him, Steven drew his pistol and shot three times. The man went down just short of the table. After struggling a moment more he collapsed, not to move on his own again as some blood began to pool around him.

  Steven waved the gun around a bit. “Anybody else want to argue about this?”

  The Captain then came over and stood across the table from Steven, as more guards came and removed the Chief Bodyguard’s body. Steven holstered the pistol, sat down, and picked up a piece of meat.

  “The usual custom, outlander, is that whoever wins the duel is the next leader. So the question is was this a duel, or a fight?”

  Steven swallowed. “Allow us time to recover our strength and regroup our family and we will leave under our own power. That should settle the issue as far as we are concerned, I think.”

  The Captain considered this. Then a party of guards came into the room, with Rox and Diana at their center. Upon seeing them Steven felt all his strength leave him for relief. Rox and Diana were brought around the room, and sat beside Steven and Alex. Steven and Rox embraced for a time as the kids turned to the food, more of which was brought out and the glass covered food taken away. Soon they were all eating to sate their ravenous appetites, starting with broth, bread, and light weight meat, followed by pickled vegetables.

  Stewards were busy cleaning up the mess from the fight and the shattered glass, putting the Caplan’s things aside. The Captain conferred with his guards and a few ministers then came back. “We have reached a consensus. You will stay as our guests, for now. The Advisors and Generals will want to see, and perhaps kill you, in trying to take over. The Guards are independent of them. We will protect you. My Lady, what would you have us do to the Arbor?”

  Roxanne stopped, flattered but unsure for a moment.

  “Those that can recover, care for them and allow them to. Those that will not, give them mercy. Those that are truly prisoners, treat as is just. Those who merely offended and are unjustly kept, return to their families.”

  The Captain considered this. “It shall be done. The Arbor itself?”

  Rox knew what to do immediately. “Everything dead and damaged, burn. The rest, find some good gardeners and turn then loose to make something pleasing to all.”

  “It shall be done.” He turned away, and gave orders to his guards, who dispersed in turn.

  Roxanne and Steven then began telling each other what had happened to them, and how their children had filled their rolls.

  Diana interjected as Rox got to the point where the Queen had impaled her. “Mom, where did the other body come from? The one I saw stabbed and torn apart.”

  Rox paused. “That was another woman from within the Arbor. The Queen did actually run me through, but I had enough magic going at that point it did not matter. I was able to join my position and body to that of another there, who was already nearly dead. She died in my place, and I was able to magically go elsewhere. That was when I pulled our things to me, then as soon as she let go of you, get you to where I was.”

  Diana did not quite comprehend. Alex was not fully listening. Steven was shocked. Rox was still a bit shaken herself, but evidently handling things. She continued with her narrative leading up to how Diana had actually been the main instigator of both the tree’s destruction, and the queen/s demise.

  Stewards came and went finishing with the mess, and closing curtains to hold in the heat. They also kept fresh food coming for as long as the Caplan’s cared to eat. Another set was scrubbing the blood from the floor, and anywhere else they found it. Some tailors came in and stood each one of the Caplan’s up and measured them for clothes, then left.

  Through all this a double cadre of guards stayed in the room, as did the Captain. Shortly more ministers and bureaucrats, or their lackeys, started filing through, mostly talking with each other, and the Captain, who treated them decently but with some apparent contempt for some of them. A few also talked to some of the guards.

  When the family was sated, and their things gathered, some stewards and a few guards escorted them to an apartment. The main room was two stories tall and wider than it was deep, with a wall splitting the room the long way. Fireplaces with fresh fires, and a double door divided that wall into quarters. Beyond the doors was a dressing room, with a washing room to the left and a bed room to the right. Two opposing flights of stairs went up to the areas above the wash room and bed room. Over the wash room was a sitting room, a second bed room was set up over the first below. The lower and upper rooms had gothic arched windows, with the upper rooms also having doors onto balconies. This all looked over into the middle of the small island the palace fortress occupied. A few pillars on the inner wall echoed the outer wall arches.

  The tailors set up in a corner of the main room, making the Caplan’s each a suit of clothes for local wear. The Caplan’s were shown the wash room, which Rox and Diana put to use. A set of guards stood inside the double doors of the exit the apartment. When the women were done, the Caplan men went into the wash room. The tailors finished the gowns for Rox and Diana. They then examined all their travel gear, and repaired the few places they could, and departed.

  Once the Caplan’s were fully washed and outfitted, one of the guards sent a runner to somewhere.

  Not long after a party arrived. The Guard Captain, two ministers, a secretary, and four other guards escorted an older man who carried dignity as a matter of course. The Caplan’s had been sitting around a fireplace in their new clothes, just resting. All stood as the party entered.

  “Hello. I am Viceroy Pemltryn.”

  Steven spoke for his family. “I am Steven Caplan. My wife Roxanne. Our daughter Diana, and son Alex.”

  Each Caplan bobbed in curtsey or bowed slightly as introduced.

  The Viceroy appraised the family briefly as he collected his thoughts. “On behalf of the people of Krogg, we apologize for you even having to be here.” He paused then continued. “I thank you for removing those who plagued us.”

  Steven and Rox had talked about this some, over the afternoon, and had sorted out most of the information that Karen had put in their head. They both realized that Karen had put triggers into their memories, to instruct them in what they might do, and to open to their conscious memories what she had put into their unconscious awareness. As they had talked about this the kids had joined in, particularly Diana. She reported that when it came time she knew about the arrow and silver line and casting the spells that she had, without ever really being taught them before then. Alex mentioned that he could almost hear Karen telling her how to stab the king effectively when he did. Now as they encountered the Viceroy, another trigger was tripped, and they knew that he had hired Karen, but that they were not to say anything about it.

  Steven continued as voice for his family. “You are welcome. How long do we need to stay here? We would like to be on our way home.”

  The Viceroy smiled slightly. “Long enough to let you rest, reprovision, and quietly get you out of the city.”

  Steven looked at Rox. They had also talked about this. He turned back to the Viceroy. “Return our cart with its load out and ponies. We will need to check that over for damage and anything conscripted. Not that we don’t trust your people, but I know troopers. Then aside from food and other consumables, we will need a couple of dutch ovens and a tent big enough for the four of us. You can keep these clothes.”

  The Viceroy nodded. He had expected this approximate reaction, but was pleased that the Caplan’s did not seem to be inclined to ridiculous demands. “All of that can be arranged. The next few days will see some minor consolidation of power, as I transition to the throne. To that end, for your own safety you will refrain from going anywhere reasonable without Palace Guard in accompaniment.”

  Steven and Rox nodded in acknowledgement. Steven answered. “We will do so. Just don’t forget to let us get on our way.”

  The Viceroy nodded, and put aside all the attitude of office, and looked at Steven as a man, and father. “I will not forget.”

  He turned to his secretary and the Guard Captain. “Arrange for them to see to their cart and things in the morning, and to go shopping. Without any other interference.”

  Both nodded. “It will be done, sir.”

  The Viceroy turned back to the Caplan’s. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  Steven shook his head. “No, sir. Just let us rest and be on or way.”

  Dinner was had in the apartment. Come bed time, they all slept in the lower bedroom, with curtains separating the three beds.

  Journal of Steven Caplan: Day 162

  The Viceroy nee King appears to want us out of the city as quickly and quietly as possible. Neither Rox nor I have any problem with this.

  It is the local Saturday. Nice to get back on the calendar. The initial coronation is due for tomorrow, at or after or during a worship service that the whole city is invited to. I gather that the official one will take a week or so to set up, for all the nobility and gentry to get into town. I hope to have the family a good distance away by then.

  We have a bit of shopping to do then we will head out to the northeast, and the overland highway. Unless Rox can find someone to teach her the specifics of the teleport spell to get back to Shalaia quickly. She has done it before, but still needs instructions.

  The walk will do us good. And the equinox is due next week, ending winter and bringing in spring in this hemisphere.

  The Caplan’s washed, dressed in their own clothes, and ate breakfast in the apartment at a reasonable pace. Steven took a moment to start working a honing stone over the edges of his sword to straighten and flatten out the fresh nicks. When everyone was packed and ready they went to the stables, through the service corridors of the palace.

  The cart was essentially how they had last dealt with it, save that most of the food had been used by the troopers that had brought them here, and the rest of the consumables had been removed. The ponies were rested and well cared for in a paddock with other ponies. All of Karen and Caspian’s personal things were absent. The tent that Caspian had used was there, as were the blankets used there in. The cooking and camping gear was all accounted for. The personal things that had been on the litter were brought by the family from the apartment they had spent the night in. A clerk brought a medium sized bag of money, added the coins to their existing bag, and departed.

  The locals helped to catch, harness, and rig the ponies. Provision for them was taken from the Palace Stores. A set of non-uniformed guards then escorted the Caplan’s out to a market. News of the succession of power had evidently spread. The local society-dames and gentry were apparently out in force. The markets did not seem to notice or care; for them it was the end of the week. The guards led the Caplan’s to a merchant where they were able to trade the two tents for a larger tent. They had enough blankets. Steven found two dutch ovens he could use. The other consumables were purchased, and twelve days of food stocked into the cart. One of the guards evidently held the bag, and paid for everything. They were then escorted across the city and out the northeast gate by lunch time.

  They picked up some lunch from a street vendor beyond the walls, and ate as they went. As they walked, the most remarkable feeling was the absence of Caspian, Cyrril, and Karen. The other three chattered about this. Diana was reticent to talk about this, still feeling betrayed by Karen.

  Journal of Steven Caplan: Day 164

  Two days out of Skarg. We unexpectedly met some familiar faces. Cyrril swooped in first and landed on Rox’s shoulders. Diana was particularly leery of Karen once she spotted her.

  It was an anticlimactic surprise to see Caspian. He briefly looked to be a bit under the weather, and almost grateful to have an excuse to stop. I think he might have been trying to show Karen how strong he is, but she didn’t seem to be buying it. Both were on foot. We all stopped and camped where we met up. Caspian and Karen then spent the rest of the afternoon telling us what had happened between them. Rox and I then began grilling Karen on all she had actually done.