Authors: Brock E. Deskins
Evelyn sat at the table in her parlor sipping tea, cradling the porcelain cup in her hands in hopes of warding off the coldness infusing her body. She feared she might never know warmth again. Her eyes were red from crying herself to sleep every night for these past several days. The ache of losing her parents and little brother warred with the dread of having to marry the man who was culpable in their murders, but if it kept Adam alive, her last connection to the world she once knew, then she would do it.
She snapped her head up from staring into the now tepid tea at the sound of her parlor door opening. Gordon swaggered in, her father’s crown resting atop his head. Parliament and the church had both rushed to confirm his coronation the moment she agreed to marry him. Knowing that The Guild’s gold was able to purchase both of those great stations only increased her despondency. It was precisely what her father died trying to end, and it was all for naught.
“Good news, Princess,” Gordon chirped. “Although my message failed to reach my men in time, your brother is still alive.”
“He is?”
“Yes, it seems that someone killed several of them while performing some sort of rescue. Do you know an agent by the name of Garran Holt?”
Evelyn thought a moment and shook her head. “I think…my father mentioned a transcended some years ago by that name, but I never met him.”
Gordon waved it off. “It is of no consequence. My soldiers and agents now have orders to bring Adam here, alive of course and in good health, just as we agreed. I expect you to fulfill your end of the bargain next month without fuss.”
“I promised I would and I shall. Adam is all that matters to me now.”
“I suppose I should be hurt by that remark. I certainly hope you change your attitude when our son is born.”
Evelyn choked down the bile that erupted into her throat and shuddered. She tried to mask her revulsion by drinking her lukewarm tea.
The teacup trembled slightly in her hands. “Where is Adam now?”
Gordon shrugged. “Agent Holt seems to have absconded with him, but my men will find him. I am sure that once he and Agent Holt are informed that Adam is not in any danger, they will surrender.”
“What will you do with Agent Holt?”
“I have no reason to begrudge him. He is only being loyal and thinks he is protecting your brother. Once he understands that is not the case and swears fealty to me, I will allow him to continue serving the kingdom. Being a transcended, he is a national treasure after all.”
“Do you truly mean what you say, that you will not harm my brother?”
“Absolutely. He has taken vows to bear no children. I just need him here so the church can ensure that he keeps them.”
Evelyn nodded and gazed out of the window. She did not turn to look when she heard the door close behind her.
“Are you all right, highness?” her handmaiden asked from the corner of the room where she sat, all but invisible in the eyes of the nobility.
“No, Ada, I fear none of us shall be all right as long as Gordon and The Guild rule the kingdom. Are you able to leave the palace?”
“Yes, milady. They don’t care much about my goings on.”
“I need you to go to the apothecary for me.”
“Are you ill?”
“I am sick beyond words, but there is no medicine that can cure my ails short of a knife thrust into the hearts of a hundred men.”
Ada blanched at her Lady’s scorn. She had cared for the girl since her birth almost seventeen years ago, and she had always been a cheerful, happy child. Everyone always remarked how much she was her father’s daughter, but the strength and determination in her eyes clearly linked her to her mother.
“What do you need?”
“Gordon will secure his bloodline by getting me with child as quickly as he can. The moment I birth him a son, I fear my life expectancy begins to rapidly dwindle along with my brother’s.”
Ada’s hand flew to her chest. “But he promised to spare you both if you married him.”
“The word of a liar and murderer is meaningless. Once my son reaches his age of confirmation, anyone carrying the Altena bloodline is a liability, one that he and The Guild cannot allow to exist. I expect Adam and I shall both suffer accidents just as my mother and Marcus did. I need your help to delay that day as long as possible.”
Ada nodded. “I understand, but what do you hope to gain other than some time? If they think you are barren, will your usefulness to them not vanish?”
“I know my ruse cannot put them off forever, but it will buy me some time.”
“Time for what?”
Evelyn shrugged. “I do not know. Agent Holt is a transcended. I have heard that the transcended have been known to win miraculous battles even when all seemed hopeless. Perhaps he can achieve a miracle for me and my brother.”
***
Adam’s legs and feet ached, and the hunger in his belly felt as if it were gnawing at his innards. For two days, they had been trudging down the narrow road with nothing more to eat than a handful of berries and acorns they roasted over a small fire.
Adam looked up to where Garran walked a few paces ahead of him. “What are you eating?”
Garran reached into the cloth sack he held in front of him and covertly popped something into his mouth. “Nothing.”
Adam hastened his step. “Yes you are. What is in the bag?”
Garran shrugged. “Just some nuts I found.”
“You’ve had nuts this entire time and did not consider sharing them?”
“I considered it. I just didn’t think you would want any.”
“I’m starving! Why would you think I wouldn’t want any?”
“I don’t know; I just figured you were too much of a snob for such a simple fair.”
“I am not a snob, and I am so hungry I would probably pick them out of deer crap and eat them.”
Garran opened the mouth of the bag. “Suit yourself. Grab a handful. I have plenty.”
Adam reached into the bag, jerked his hand away, and jumped back. “You are disgusting! What is wrong with you?”
Garran laughed uproariously as he pulled the other end of the sack out of his breaches and laced himself back up. “I thought you wanted some nuts?”
“I am quite certain those have gone rancid.” Adam wiped his hand on his shirt. “God, it was like reaching into a nest of baby birds.”
“Yeah, they must have been woodpeckers!”
“You are beyond doubt the most disturbed person I have ever met. Why would you want another man to touch your genitals?”
“You mean beyond the obvious hilarity?”
“It is far from obvious,” Adam countered.
“You’re such a prude. Besides, it’s your fault. You shouldn’t have thrown out my liquor.”
“Are you telling me that your only recourse to not intoxicating yourself is to trick someone into fondling you?”
“When there is a lack of prostitutes, yeah.” Garran grinned. “Plus, you have soft hands, and mine are so calloused.”
“You have a rather singular mentality.”
“That’s not true. I can use either hand.”
“That is not—” Adam saw the grin plastered across Garran’s face. “You know precisely what I mean, and I will not let you make me the target of your sport.”
“You priests, so afraid of a dangle. That’s probably why you take all those stupid vows.”
“Please, that thing couldn’t scare a child.”
“Hey, this thing has scared plenty of children!”
Adam stopped walking and stared, his mouth agape.
Garran rolled his eyes. “Like you’ve never had a trouser failure while walking by a primary school. And when the fresh air excites your crabs, I dare you not to scratch—vigorously!”
“I absolutely have not, and I do not know of anyone who ever has.”
“You sound just as uptight as the constable who kept arresting me.”
“This happened more than once?”
Garran dropped his eyes to the ground. “Three times, but who’s counting…other than the constable. It was on the route to my favorite bar and brothel! You know what; I bet that’s where I got the crabs.”
“That is possibly the worst thing I have ever heard.”
“I know, right? Was he a constable or a mathematician? Pick one and stick with it!”
“You are a habitual deviant.”
Garran scowled. “You’re a bitch! See, not so nice being called names.”
Adam groaned into his palm. “I didn’t call you a…bad name. I said you were habitual, meaning you repeat the same behavior.”
“Regardless, not all of us are princes who can afford high quality trousers with laces that don’t inexplicably fail—habitually.”
“You do not need a nobleman’s wealth to avoid exposing yourself to children!”
Garran shrugged. “Consider it a free lesson in biology.”
Adam walked away and scoffed. “Microbiology maybe.”
“I heard that!” Garran snapped as he hastened after Adam. “I didn’t think priests were allowed to be so hurtful.”
“I have taken no vows against it, and I am certain there are exceptions for people like you for those who have.”
“You certainly seem to be making an extra effort.”
Adam sighed and nodded. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. I am distraught, I feel completely lost, and you are so…”
“Awesome?”
“Disturbing. I do not know what I am doing out here, and your every action makes me wonder if you do either.”
“Look, I know how I am, and I know it bothers most people, but I do know what I am doing. Did you know I made prefect in my first month at the university?”
“Really?”
“I told you, I’m awesome. Just have a little faith in me.”
“Even the most devout priest would find it difficult to have that much faith.”
Garran grinned. “I thought you weren’t a priest?”
“I’m not, but since you have shown yourself to be so challenged by the notion, I was trying to keep it simple.”
“Simple, just like I prefer my prostitutes.”
Adam stopped and turned. “Did you just liken me to a prostitute?”
Garran gripped him by the shoulder and gave him a slight shove forward. “Naw, prostitutes don’t ask for as much money as priests.”
“Where are we?” Adam asked. “Are we anywhere near a town or even a farm?”
“What are you, a cartographer?”
“What I am is distressed, distraught, exhausted, and starving”
“My apologies. Maybe I can find you some more nuts.”
“You are such an ass,” Adam grumbled. “My stomach is cramping enough without having to digest your revolting words.”
“Are you sure it’s hunger cramps and not menstrual? It has only been two days.”
Adam glanced at the ground drew a line in the dirt with the toe of his shoe. “It was my weekend of fasting. I haven’t eaten in four days.”
“What kind of person willingly starves themselves, especially before running off into the woods without any provisions?”
“Suffering brings us closer to God, and you are the one who dragged me out here and forgot to bring any food!”
“I had food, but the stupid horse wandered off with it. You are right about one thing though. If I had left you there, you definitely wouldn’t be hungry.”
“How many times do I have to tell you that I appreciate your help? It just would have been smart to be better prepared. I am not accustomed to deprivation like you are. My muscles are aching, and I feel lightheaded from lack of food. I don’t think I can go on much farther if we don’t find something to eat soon.”
“Fine, we’ll go look for some food if it will stop your whining. If suffering brings a person closer to God, then I must be near to ascending.”
They hiked along the narrow game trail until Garran stopped and knelt next to some deer tracks leading up the slope and disappearing into the dense brush.
“These are fresh, and this is a well-used trail,” Garran said. “The winter berry bushes already have some early blooms, and I bet the deer come through here a lot.”
“I thought you said there weren’t any berries this time of the year?”
“Eat them if you want to, but you’ll be pouring pints of butt beer for the next week.”
“Must everything be disgusting with you? How are we going to take down a deer anyway? We do not have a bow.”
Garran found a stout sapling, hacked at it with his reaping blade, and sharpened it into a spear. “You really are helpless. The trail comes down over a gulley and creates a perfect blind. All we have to do is wait until a deer comes bounding down the path and stab it when it bursts into the open.”
Adam looked dubious. “Have you actually done this before?”
“No, but I have seen it.”
“You’ve seen it?”
Garran shrugged. “I heard about it from someone who said they saw it. Come on, you stand there, I’ll stand over here on the other side, and when the deer comes back, we’ll stick it and eat like kings.”
Adam shook his head and hefted his spear. “Or starve like fools.”
Garran poised himself off to the side of the trail, gripping his reaping blades in both hands as he stared intently ahead. As the minutes crawled by, Adam constantly shifted his grip on the spear to relieve his fatiguing muscles. After an hour, he set the butt of spear on the ground and leaned on it. He looked over at Garran and saw that he not moved so much as an inch. Not wanting to look weak, he hefted his spear once more and set himself into position.
Another hour dragged by, and his patience waned. He was not a hunter, but Garran’s concept seemed ludicrous. Waiting around for a random deer to wander into their path was just plain idiotic and a colossal waste of time. As the third hour approached, Adam was certain this was just Garran’s way of punishing him for throwing out his alcohol.
“Garran,” Adam called out. When he did not move, Adam looked closer and saw that his eyes were closed. “Are you asleep?” Adam stepped over and slapped the end of his spear against Garran’s backside. “Wake up!”
Garran’s eyes flew open with a snort and swung at the air with his right reaping blade. “What? Did I get him?”
“No, you idiot! No deer is going to just throw itself at us while we—”
Something large crashed through the brush just beyond sight. Adam barely had time to bring his spear around and point it in that direction before a young buck burst from the thicket and into the small clearing. Startled, Adam took several backpedaling steps and tried to force his violently shaking hands to bring his spear in line.
The buck reared up and lashed out with its forehooves, slapping aside his spear with a masterful parry and striking him in the forehead. Adam fell onto his back with a cry and covered his face with his arms as the deer came down atop him and began a lively dance on his prostrate body.
Garran leapt into the fray and buried one reaping blade just behind the animal’s shoulder and the other in the back of its head, killing it instantly. Adam shoved the buck away and rolled to his feet.
“What the hell was that?” Adam cried as he wiped at his forehead, looking for blood.
Garran looked up from where he was already gutting the animal and grinned. “That was you getting your ass handed to you by a deer.”
“That was no ordinary deer! That thing was demonically possessed!”
“It was not possessed, it was just scared shitless. Deer can be pretty nasty when they have a mind to be.”
Adam looked up the trail and tried to peer through the thick brambles. “What had it so scared?”
Garran hefted the buck by his forked antlers and dumped the gut pile onto the ground. “You were trying to spear it. That would scare just about anything that didn’t know you.”
“No, it was running scared. What do you think spooked it?”
“Nothing. You’re reading too much into it. Just focus on what is important, that I was right and you got your sissy-girl ass kicked by an herbivore.”
Adam’s eyes kept flicking back to where the deer had come from. “No, that’s not it.”
“There is nothing out there! Now grab the front legs so I can strip the hide off of—”
A massive bear exploded from brush, reared up to tower over the two humans, and roared. Garran and Adam both looked up into the beast’s slavering jaws and screamed. Garran shoved Adam in the chest, sending him tumbling over the deer’s carcass to land in the pile of offal and ran.
“Garran, you bastard!” The Prince’s cursing devolved into incoherent screams of terror almost lost beneath the bear’s snarling.
Garran skidded to a stop, looked back at the brutal mauling, and drew his reaping blades. “Aw hell.”
***
Ada hurried down the crowded walkway, nervously casting glances over her shoulder every few steps. Those who kept Evelyn a virtual prisoner might hesitate to harm the Princess, but they would kill her maid in an instant if they discovered what she was doing. It was a risk she was willing to take to keep the girl she had nannied from the day she was born.
She entered a glass shop and browsed its wares for ten minutes before hurriedly ducking into the apothecary next door. She had taken three different carriages across the city in hopes of preventing anyone from following her. Perhaps she was being paranoid, but she felt she had good reason to be.
The bespectacled chemist looked up at her entrance as he ground up dried roots in a mortar. “Can I help you, miss?”
Ada bustled up to the counter, leaned forward, and whispered, “I need something to calm one’s nerves.”
“Are you looking for something strong like laudanum?”
“No, nothing like that. Just something to take away the jitters and ease stress.”
“I can mix up a batch of chamomile with a five percent rapture root blend, but I don’t recommend drinking more than one cup per meal unless you are planning on some amorous activity.”
Ada nodded. “That sounds fine.”
“Did you need anything else?”
Ada fidgeted and looked around the small shop. “Yes, I require some stop root.”
“Ah, I see.”
“I sincerely doubt that you do.”
The chemist raised his hands in a placating gesture. “It’s none of my business. Do you want that in an extract or ground leaves for tea as well?”
“Tea, please.”
“It will take a just a few minutes for me to mix it.”
The chemist disappeared into a room behind the counter. Ada wrung her hands and constantly shifted her gaze to look out onto the street. Did the man across the way look familiar? Could he be following her, or was she simply being paranoid. She was certainly paranoid, but such an agitated state did not preclude the fact that someone was indeed keeping a close watch on her. The longer she gazed through the window, the more people looked like spies until she was certain everyone was watching her. She breathed a sigh of relief when the chemist returned with two paper-wrapped parcels.
“I kept them both to similar potency,” he said. “For the stop root, take one teaspoon per cup once a day to prevent pregnancy. If the pregnancy has already taken hold, then two teaspoons twice a day until it terminates. You should not use it if the fetus has gestated for more than eight weeks. After that time, you should seek out a physic if you are unwilling to carry the child to term. For the rapture root blend, one teaspoon up to three times a day will reduce anxiety. If you want to increase your ardor, then you may double it but no more than that unless you wish to cast decency to the wind. You must be careful as too much can stop the heart.”
“How much is too much?”
“This is a weak blend, so you would have to mix and drink all of it in a day to be truly at risk unless you have a heart condition,” the chemist assured her.
Ada slipped the parcels into her satchel. “Thank you. Please, you mustn’t tell anyone about the stop root no matter who inquires. A Lady’s life may depend upon it; likely more than one.”
The chemist nodded sagely. “I see. This is not for you then. Do not be concerned. I provide my customers with absolute discretion.”
“Thank you again.”
Ada hurried from the apothecary, tried to differentiate the imaginary spies from any who might be real, and flagged down a carriage. She made several stops at stores and merchant stands; buying various things to excuse her absence from the palace should anyone inquire.
Evelyn’s handmaiden returned to the palace lugging her bag of sundries. No one stopped her or questioned her comings or goings until she reached Evelyn’s chambers. A pair of guards stood sentry outside of the door, as was typical now, and blocked her entrance.
“What’s in the bags?” one asked.
“Groceries and such, you louts,” Ada answered. “What do you think is in them, a platoon of Hillmen mercenaries ready to spring out and rescue the Queen?”
The speaker stripped her of her satchel and pulled out the parcels from the apothecary. “What’s this?”
Ada snatched her bag back along with the bundles. “It’s tea. Perhaps you should drink a bit more of it and less of the whiskey, especially before coming on duty. If I can smell it on your breath, I’m sure your superiors can too. Are you going to let me pass, or do you want to keep me in the hall arguing until one of them shows up?”
The guard stepped aside and opened the door. “All right then, don’t be such nag about it. I’m just doing my job.”
“Sometimes what you do is far less important than who you are doing for,” Ada snapped as she pushed between them and entered Evelyn’s rooms.
“Ada, thank God you have returned,” Evelyn said as her handmaiden entered. “How was your shopping? Were you able to find everything without a fuss?”
Ada waited until the guard closed the door. “Everything seems to have gone fine. No one questioned where I went.”
“Were you able to get the…tea?”
Ada nodded and brought out the two bundles. “One cup of this in the morning as a preventative, and another cup of this one at each meal will help calm your nerves.” She cleared her throat to dislodge the distasteful words she was about to utter. “When Gordon comes to call on you, you might want to drink two cups or double the tea for a single cup to make it more bearable.”
Evelyn looked at her dearest friend with confusion then understood. “I suppose it would not do if I vomited on my pillow in midst of it all.”
Ada narrowed her eyes and grinned. “It might be an effective deterrent.”
“Doubtful. The pig would likely just flip the pillow and go about his business. Besides, he would probably finish before the smell had time to assault his senses.”
“Aye, I’d bet my mother’s dowry he’s more the sprinter than a marathoner.”
Both women shared a laugh while Ada prepared Evelyn a cup of stop root. Ada emptied the special tea into a container, held up the paper it was wrapped in, and gasped.
“Highness, look here!” she exclaimed and handed the paper to Evelyn.
The newly crowned queen took the square and read the message someone had printed on the inside.
Fear not, Highness, for you are not alone.