A Stolen Crown (6 page)

“Your magic?” Shadar feigned ignorance, though he was curious to know about the queen's power. Calexis laughed.

“My magic. You did not know because I did not want you to know. I have my own power, taught to me by my mother before I took her life. It is has made many things possible for me, mage. You, of all people, should understand the advantages that power brings.”

“Yes, my queen. And as for your son, it appears that he too shares some of that power. Shall I teach him about that as well?” Calexis gave the mage a cold look.

“No. You will not,” she said sharply. “You will teach him about the world and see to his training for war. He will some day command my armies as we bring the world to its knees.”

The mage nodded.

“I must point out my queen that his training must be very intense. He will be fully grown before the summer. Darga reach adulthood by their first year,” he told her. Calexis nodded.

“Yes, I know this already. Your job will not be too difficult, mage. I have already been teaching him, myself.” She looked down at the child at her breast. “Right Draxis? You know many things already.” Draxis again lifted his mouth from her breast, revealing another set of punctures in her skin. “Who is that over there, Draxis?” she asked. The lizard-child turned and looked at Shadar.

“Shadar, mage,” Draxis said with a voice that rasped too low to be that of a human child. Calexis smiled.

“Very good. Shadar will teach you many things. And my soldiers will teach you how to kill. What do you want to do first?” she asked. Draxis turned his yellow-green eyes back to his mother with a sense of longing.

“Feed,” he said with a toothy grin and then sunk his fangs back into the queen’s breast.

Calexis gasped, her body spasming. The pain in her loins that had receded to a dull ache now returned in force as her body contracted. Caught unaware, she flung the newborn from her breast almost involuntarily. Shadar was amazed to see the young half-Darga child nimbly right himself and, almost standing, take up a perch on the edge of the bed next to his mother, watching as she pushed and bled again as a second abomination began to push its way from her womb.

Blood ran down his cheek as Carlis pushed himself off the cold stone of the palace steps. Two guards looked down at him and laughed as he brushed the snow and dirt from his fine clothes and calmly walked the rest of the way down to the courtyard and out of the palace gates. The guards at the gate did not stop the former magistrate since Carlis had long been well known to them as an important noble of Maramyr. They had seen him arrive at the palace only a short while ago, looking as he usually did, richly dressed and neatly arranged, but they were not surprised to see his bloodied appearance, for he was not the only important person to receive a drubbing at the royal court of late.

As Carlis rounded the corner onto a street that led away from the palace, he cursed Cerric and his mage priest advisors. This last meeting had not gone at all as he expected and as much as he had been appalled by Cerric’s increasingly arbitrary method of rule, he was horrified that the king would go so far as he had today. Carlis walked through quiet streets aware that many of the nobles either stayed in their homes or had left for their country estates, and he could hardly blame them. The only ones who travelled freely these days were those who stood to gain in some way from the build up of the Maramyrian army.

Carlis had gone to the palace to negotiate a contract on behalf of the Smith’s Guild and the scores of metalworkers who hoped to contribute their labors to the coming war against Kandara. They had not asked for unreasonable compensation and, in fact, as far as Carlis was concerned they should have asked for more since there would undoubtedly be additional requests without additional pay as the war efford heated up. With Cerric busy planning the war, there were more and more such requests being made of the smiths with little acknowledgement of the additional time and labor required to fulfil them, so it would be more efficient to set out some plan of what was needed and agree to a method of compensation in advance, to avoid having to authorize funds each time and so the smiths could make better use of their energy.

However, instead of a reasonable conversation, Cerric had flatly turned down the proposal and accused Carlis of conspiring with the Smith’s Guild to rob him and cripple the treasury. Before Carlis could even begin to explain the basic costs of equipping a soldier and a horse, and why it would save him a fortune in gold if he would be strategic about his use of the smiths and their forges, Cerric flew into a rant, saying that the terms Carlis had put before him were tantamount to treason. That was when Carlis made his mistake.

He had always put Maramyr first. Even while he made deals that were profitable to himself, he made sure that the good of the kingdom was the main priority. It had been one of his own principles that the kingdom and its people should benefit from his efforts if and when at all possible. And now he was virtually being accused of treason. It was one of the few times in his life that Carlis had lost his temper and that had been a grave mistake.

Indignant and frustrated with Cerric, Carlis had yelled back at the king and asked him what he planned to do when the workers were tired because they could not afford food. He asked what weapons would the soldiers bring to battle when the smiths and armorers had no more metal to work because the mines of Maramyr were no longer worked by skilled men but criminals whose last interest was the prosper of the kingdom, which had been another one of Cerric's schemes that was proving disastrour. He asked what Cerric would do when the people who were working their hardest to help him gave up in frustration because they were in danger of being accused of some crime or another, just because their resourcefulness and energy seemed suspicious to the king’s advisors. Many had already begun to distance themselves from the palace and Carlis was one of the few who had continued to dutifully serve the crown, but the additional workload was beginning to take its toll on him.

Taken aback at first, Cerric had listened to Carlis and waited until he had finished, then he coldly told him that if he was unclear on the way things now worked in Maramyr, then perhaps he would benefit from a demonstration. That was when two guards grabbed Carlis on either side and held him in place. Cerric himself descended from the dais and swung his fist into the magistrate’s stomach. When he doubled over from the pain, the king swung his other fist into the side of Carlis’ head, leaving him standing only because he was held in the grip of the palace guards. Cerric then ordered the guards to throw Carlis from the palace and made it clear that he not be allowed to return. Still reeling from the shock of what had just happened, Carlis had been subjected to further indignity by being cast down the steps to the palace by the guards, who took Cerric's command literally. As he exited the palace grounds and entered the city, he did not look back.

The more Carlis thought about what had happened, the more he hurried down the road, worried what might be next. He had heard a few rumors of such things already happening to others in Maramyr and not soon after they had run afoul of the king, they also wound up dead in an alley or some other unsavory location where bodies could be left. He had not believed such stories when he had first heard them, but now he knew the truth of things. Carlis hoped he would be able to leave the city with his life, but he had a stop to make and it would not be his own residence, for he was not so foolish as to show up there.

Carlis rounded another corner and found the building he wanted. At the second door along the heavy stone wall, he knocked five times then once again and it opened. He was admitted into a simple room by a single servant and told to wait. The room was bare except for a small table set against one wall and with two chairs, one on either side. Carlis thought about sitting down to wait but he was still too shaken and worried that if he sat, he would not be able to stand again. Instead, he paced around the small room. It was only a short time when a large round-bellied man entered from the opposite door and smiled. He carried a book in his hand at his side.

“Lord Carlis,” said the man named Bensa, the head of the local trade guild. “What business brings you to my office that cannot be dealth with at the guild?”

“Good day to you Bensa,” Carlis greeted him. “My business in Maramyr is over. I am leaving the city and I thought to give you a warning to do the same. Cerric has rejected the latest proposal from the Smiths and verily accused me of treason because the terms were not enough in his favour.” Bensa frowned.

“Cerric couldn’t get better terms that that unless he dissolved the guild and went with forced labor,” the big man joked. When Carlis did not laugh, Bensa realized that the idea he had just suggested as being unthinkable, might be exactly what Cerric would do. He sighed and noticed that Carlis had blood on his face and was a little peaked. “Do the Smiths know?” Bensa asked.

“No,” Carlis told him. “I just came from the palace where, as you can see, my welcome was cut short.” He gestured to the blood drying on the side of his face.

"Damn soldiers," Bensa cursed. "You'd think they could at least be civil."

"It was his majesty, Cerric himself, actually. He's quite the powerful man now."

Bensa looked at Carlis for a moment, then he stepped over to the door from which he had entered and knocked on it twice. The door opened and the servant from earier appeared. Bensa said a few words to him and then the man retreated back down the passage behind the door.

“Thank you for bringing me this information, Lord Carlis,” Bensa said. “Now, what else I can do for you?”

“I wish to transfer my holdings,” Carlis said. “I will be leaving the city for longer than I care to think about, possibly for good.”

Bensa frowned and let out a great sigh.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible."

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. Your holdings with the Trade Guild at Maramyr have been confiscated by the crown,” Bensa told him, with a blank expression on his face.

“When?” Carlis felt his face redden with anger.

The big man looked at the floor, no longer able to hide the fact that he himself was displeased with what he had to tell the former magistrate. The servant reappeared with a bowl of water, a washcloth, two cups and a bottle of liquor. He set the water and cloth on a small table with a mirror that was set against the wall and placed the cups and bottle on the desk. Bensa gestured to the basin, for Carlis to tidy himself up and he poured two cups of the liquor.

“Two days ago, Cerric sent down a list of nobles who were to be stripped of their titles and properties," Bensa explained as Carlis wet the cloth and dabbed at the blood on his face. "Any gold, valued currency or property titles held in trust by this Guild were to be transferred to the treasury by order of the king.”

“All of it?” Carlis was astounded.

If what Bensa was saying were true, then Cerric had planned this even before their meeting, and he had lost a fortune! It was theft, plain and simple. But Carlis knew there was little he could do about it. Cerric was the king, and his word was law. Bensa opened up the book he carried and offered it to Carlis.

“In this ledger, you will find a reckoning of your accounts,” Bensa said with a glimmer of a smile. This big of news was something he was more pleased to impart to Carlis, a man he had long respected and would have called friend were the rules of the Trade Guild more permissive. “I must say that, given recent events in Maramyr, your investments at Aghlar were timely indeed.”

Carlis accepted the book and opened it curiously. He did not remember having made any purchases in Aghlar. He quickly flipped through the ledger to the most recent pages. There, on the line above his recent transfer to buy into the Smith’s Guild most recent proposal, was the purchase of a shipyard at Aghlar. His jaw dropped at the sum. Bensa smiled warmly at him and handed him a cup of liquor.

“I must say that it took some doing to transport that much gold to Aghlar, especially on such short notice, but the Trade Guild employs very capable people in matters such as these. A message arrived just this morning confirming that your gold has arrived at Aghlar and that the transaction was authorized by the Guild there. Should you wish to finalize the purchase of the shipyard, you have thirty days to do so. In the meantime, your gold awaits you at Aghlar. I personally think you have made a very wise investment and, if I were you, I would see to it personally that it is properly managed.” Bensa drank the liquor in his cup, then placed it back on his desk and rubbed his hands together. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a great deal of business to attend to before king Cerric takes the rest of my business away from me.”

The big man turned to leave.

“Thank you,” was all Carlis could manage.

Bensa waved a hand at him as he exited the room. Carlis held the book loosely in his hand for a moment and a piece of parchement fell from it to the floor. Bending, he picked it up and looked at the writing. It was the list Bensa had mentioned, of all the nobles whose money was to be confiscated. Carlis noticed that the names were all of those who had successfully built up fortunes at trading and investment and, more importantly, all those who had been loyal or whose families had been loyal to Cerric's brother, Gregor when he was still alive.

Carlis scanned the parchment and also saw that his friend Lady Valamyr was on the list. She was to lose everything but her family's country estate, lands that had been entitled to her family for many generations as the Valamyr's were one of the oldest noble families in Maramyr. Elaine would not be pleased, that was to be sure. The lands she retained did not produce much in the way of saleable goods these days and her family had long ago converted their wealth to various merchant enterprises, all of which had now been confiscated. Cerric might as well have burned down her family palace at Maramyr, for she would no longer even be able to afford its upkeep let alone keep it supplied and staffed with servants.

Given the climate in the crown city of late, Carlis considered it fortunate that Elaine and her neice had recently left for the country. They might at least be able to live for a while on what little money that did remain, though he wondered whether remaining in the kingdom was a particularly wise decision, considering what was happening in the kingdom, in general. Another page was stuffed in the book and Carlis saw a recent order from Cerric citing several antiquated Maramyrian laws that authorized the use of force and summary judgement in the event that individuals were to resist any of the king's edicts. Carlis decided that the Valamyr country estate would be his first stop upon leaving the city, and he left in a hurry.

*****

“Get out of this house immediately!” Elaine’s voice shrilled at the leering militia captain. His greasy, unshaven face, yellowed teeth and the stale smell that lingered about him suggested that he had likely been deputized from the ranks of the lowest country tavern in Maramyr.

“Or what?” he asked mockingly as the rest of his men searched through the many luxurious rooms of the Valamyr country manor. Ehlena sat quietly at a nearby table, ignoring the men’s prying eyes as they passed back and forth, opening every box and cupboard in every room of the house.

“Or the king will have your head.” Lady Valamyr stood up as tall as possible in an effort to command some respect for her nobility. The soldier merely laughed at her.

“King’s orders, milady.” He grinned and gestured at the jewels and gold his men were carrying out to their horses. “Your contribution to the army. We’re going to war, in case you hadn’t heard. Care to make a personal contribution?” He leered at the noblewoman and her neice.