TWO HEADS TWO SPIKES (The Pearl of Wisdom Saga) (21 page)

Riceros remembered his mother and father arguing about moving up to the fourth floor for better protection. Camelle was afraid of heights and preferred to stay on the second floor. Jon had thought they would be safer on the fourth floor. It was the only time he could recall that his parents had ever fought.

This must have been a skilled assassin who commanded a hefty price. Only a few people in the realm could afford someone like that.

If he was so skilled, why couldn’t he finish the job? Are more men on their way?

Ruxin found a coin-purse on the assassin filled with gold bulls and foxes. More than one hundred pieces, to be sure. Ruxin looked over the rest of the body for any clues that could tell them who this man was and who had sent him. He found nothing else on the dead man’s person.

“I am going to have the guards get rid of the body. I will have some servants in to clean up the mess in here. We can all stay in my quarters until the morrow,” Ruxin said.

Nobody slept the rest of the night and Ruxin called a first-light meeting to revamp castle security. Riceros attended the meeting, but it only made him feel a touch safer. He wanted his father, Brehan, sister and brothers back in Riverfront now.

“I want to shut down the duels immediately,” announced the King at the meeting he had called.

“Why, your highness?” asked Henley Moore.

“Because we need more men to fight these usurpers. Wait a week and the jails will be full again. We just need to make sure that we are looking for lawbreakers this week,” the King said with an evil smile and a wink.

Ali-Ster didn’t grin. He wanted to go into battle but his father wouldn’t allow it. Ali-Ster had almost left without permission. He thought that by the time his father found out, it would be too late to bring him back. Eventually, however, he chose to stay in the Capitol.

“Next, we take men out of that clustered stalemate along Goldenfield. I want to crush Mattingly quickly,” the King stated.

“I’m not sure that is the right move, your highness,” replied Leo Braunshaur.

“That’s fine because I didn’t ask you, Lord Braunshaur. A king orders, he does not ask. Havest any of thou the firth? Oh, and has anyone found out who killed Otto Cuthbart?” he asked, tapping his scepter on the table.

A hush fell over the room until Henley Moore broke the silence, “It could really be anyone with the mouth on that man, your majesty.”

“But Penrose found him with his thumbs cut off and shoved into his mouth,” the King said with a look of concern.

“Again, that would cast a wide net as well, my King,” added Derich Bonsfogger.

“Well, I need to tell his wife something, so start pressing harder on this one. I still must figure out a price to pay her off. He was the High Lord of Fox Woods. Back on the topic of Mattingly, we will pull almost all resources from the Goldenfield border,” said the King.

“I would be certain to keep a close eye on the Warrior Queen right now. New kings and queens can act in very erratic ways. You never know what she could be plotting after putting her mother and father’s heads on spikes,” Dirk Eller added cautiously.

“I kind of like her myself. She is a new ruler and I know a thing or two about being a new ruler. You have to worry so much about consolidating the inside of your realm that it takes months or years just to look outside. Anyway, my whisperers tell me that she is planning a different move right now.” The King got up and wandered around the table.

Everyone at the table wanted to object, but nobody had the intestinal fortitude. They didn’t agree with pulling necessary troops and releasing criminals to fight a tough, and probably unwarranted, civil war. Even without its leader, Mattingly would stand up to defend itself until the bloody, bitter end. However, everybody’s tongues became twisted when attempting to stand up to their King.

The King broke the brief silence as he meandered around the room. “A raven from Waters Edge arrived earlier with word that Duke Etburn is sending men. We can use their old bald heads for battering rams if need be. They might even die on the way down, but we will find a purpose for the elderly knights. We also received a letter from Burkeville.”

The King’s face flushed bright red and a rare, fierce look flashed into his eyes. His size was the only thing intimidating about the physically awkward King as he continued, “It appears we have a traitor on our hands. Duke Burke has refused to send any help for the war effort and has become entirely useless to the realm of Donegal. He is forcing my hand and he shall not be pleased with the outcome. He might change his tone when I send him the head of his daughter. He forgets that I have her here more as a hostage than a bride for Ali-Varis. We need to handle this problem quickly and quietly before he can bring Burkeville to ashes. I have one Duke ambush me and another who refuses my orders. It is time to teach this realm who is in control,” shouted the King angrily.

You show your strength by having someone else kill an eighteen year old girl. You are a coward, father.

Ali-Ster felt that the whole Colbert ambush story didn’t add up. He was positive that his father sent him hunting the day of the already-infamous ambush so Ali-Ster wouldn’t see the truth.

He didn’t want me there for a reason; he knows I act with honor. He didn’t even tell anyone around the castle that men from Mattingly were coming.

He felt his father was spinning a web of lies. Ali-Ster found it hard to believe that Jon Colbert would attack the King in Falconhurst with his daughter along for the ride. Nothing about this story made sense. The King would never leave the castle to greet the Mattingly men. He had never done that for anyone in the past. Ali-Ster hardly ever spoke at these meetings, but it was getting harder to hold his tongue with each outrageous statement his father made.

“Lord Bonsfogger, what are the chances we can take the coast?” the King questioned his Admiral of the Sea.

“Extremely unlikely. They have five times as many war-ships and they will know we are coming,” the Admiral said.

“So straight down on horse and foot it shall be. We will slaughter these mad bulls and offer them to the Gods. We will meet back here in two hours to discuss details about strategy and how to navigate those border mountains. I expect everyone to be here with Count Silzeus as the only exception. You may get some rest, my good man.”

As soon as he finished that statement the door flew open with sudden force. It slammed into the wall and shook a few small tables. Two rugged-looking men entered the room in tattered clothes, carrying a large chest. It was an ark with animals carved into the outside. The men staggered over to the King and dropped the heavy chest. The two men bowed and left the room.

A man with long red hair entered the room and said, “Uncle.”

The man known as Crimson-Lightning walked toward the King with an air of confidence. He stepped over to the King and got down on one knee, “My King, I have returned with the spoils from the far east conquest. I do apologize for the length of time it took me. Those nasty seas just would not cooperate.”

He opened the treasure chest to expose jewels, gold and silver filled to the brim of the large container. The King’s eyes gleamed as they focused on the glowing reward.

“Finally, a soldier who can get things done. I was starting to think I would never see you again,” King Ali-Stanley uttered.

“I have had many nights filled with terrible thoughts that I would never see the shores of Donegal again. But finally and fortunately, I have made it,” the man said.

Everyone just sat at the table, totally stunned. Sir Ali-Samuel Wamhoff had been gone for six years on what started out as a one-year quest. Not many people thought they would see the knight ever again. He was a skinny man who didn’t look like a lifelong soldier. Only his stained and broken teeth gave the impression of hardness. His jawline came down in the shape of a V and could be seen under his closely shaved red beard and moustache.

“I lost almost all of the hundred men, but I hope this will make up for their loss,” Ali-Samuel said with his head lowered.

“We can find more men anywhere. Gold, silver and gems seem to elude us these days,” the King said with a big, goofy-looking smile. He didn’t smile very often these days and it almost scared people when he did, as it looked sinister. “This comes at a perfect time. You see, we have a little problem to take care of. Sit down and we will talk. The rest of you are dismissed.”

The rest of the council walked out and Ali-Ster went over to the training yard, but hardly anybody was there. All of the knights were preparing for the southern advance. None of the squires could keep up with Ali-Ster so he decided to head back to his quarters.

He walked past the throne room and stared at the silver seat. The throne of Donegal had a silver frame with a red seat and back that featured two white foxes protecting the crown. Along the top of the chair was a rack for the crowns of conquered kings. Five crowns hung atop the throne.

As he was walking down the hall, he heard a voice ring out, “Cousin.”

Ali-Ster turned around to see Ali-Samuel Wamhoff approaching.

“Hold on for a moment. I didn’t get to talk to you yet. When did you get back?”

He put his arm around Ali-Ster while they walked toward his room.

“A few months ago,” replied Ali-Ster.

“What are you doing right now? Do they still run the horse races in the west woods?” Ali-Samuel asked.

“Yes. There are probably a few races left in the day,” he said to his much older cousin.

Ali-Ster had only seen Ali-Samuel for brief periods of time before he would embark on another of his many military campaigns.

“Well, let’s go,” smiled Ali-Samuel.

He was considered one of the greatest warriors that Donegal had ever seen. He had set off to conquer for the King on his fifteenth birthday and he had a decorated thirty years of service. Of the five crowns that hung atop the Donegal throne, two were placed there by Ali-Samuel Wamhoff. Small, stealth missions were his specialty. He didn’t have any of the noticeable scars or ill effects you would expect from a lifetime of near death experiences. He was shorter and frailer than Ali-Ster, but the soldiers at war had told stories of Ali-Samuel’s amazing battle exploits.

The two men rode to the horse racing stadium and Ali-Samuel paid a man two coppers to watch their horses. The racing track looked similar to the Dueling Yard. It comprised a huge, concrete horseshoe for a base. The track featured layered, wooden seating benches around most of the dirt track. A beautiful garden bloomed in the center of the track with flowers of every imaginable hue arranged in artful patterns. The wealthy women of the Capitol loved to stroll around the flower gardens and watch the races. The soil track had a red-painted wooden rail on either side. They ran races of one, two and five laps with the audience gambling on all of them.

Right outside the stadium, the horses were lined up according to their race numbers. Usually seven horses participated in each race unless a last moment problem occurred, in which case they would race with fewer horses if necessary. The jockeys stood proudly alongside their animals, telling the citizens why they should place a wager on their horse. The Wamhoff men walked around placing bets on the rest of the daily races. Ali-Ster never got to spend much time with Ali-Samuel so he was curious to know what the man wanted from him.

“I tried to talk some sense into your father, but he just wouldn’t listen,” Ali-Samuel said as soon as they sat in a vacant area of the stands.

There were about one thousand people in attendance and the stadium had a capacity of about two thousand.

“We have all tried to tell him that it is a mistake to move on Mattingly. They provide almost everything now. Much has changed since I went away four years ago,” Ali-Ster said as he watched the horses start the race.

“Much and more, my cousin, but that wasn’t what I was talking about. I tried to get your father to make you heir to the throne,” Ali-Samuel lightly said with a blue-eyed wink.

“I don’t really care about that,” Ali-Ster quickly responded.

“Well, every other person in the kingdom does. This place is a literal shit bucket right now once you go outside the castle. If something happens to your father and the simple-witted Ali-Varis takes over, it would be perilous for the realm. If not revolt, then the shores will be overrun by everyone looking for their scoop of the stew. And you are right, cousin, why does the King bite the hand that feeds him and wipes his mouth? He is also lying about that ambush. You can see it in his eyes.” Ali-Samuel clenched and pumped his fist as his horse won the first race.

“I know. He sent me hunting with uncle Ryen and uncle Tersen. The three people who might actually have been able to stop his lunacy had to be out of the way. He sent us away and none of us had any inkling about a plan to meet the Mattingly men on the Royal Road. He has never gotten over his grudge with the Colberts.” Ali-Ster watched as the next race started.

“His judgment is terrible right now, Ali-Ster. What must you do, die on the battlefield to earn your father’s respect? What has Ali-Varis ever done for Donegal? He has done as much or as little as your father and King Ali-Dus before him. They made bad decisions because they never served military duty. Sleeping on the throne is a lot like sleeping on your horse. Eventually, you are going to fall off and break your neck. But when you are a king, you break everyone’s necks.” Ali-Samuel watched as his horse took the lead down the home stretch.

Ali-Ster didn’t like anyone talking bad about his father but his cousin made perfect sense. The crowd exploded in excitement as the horses sprinted for the finish line. Ali-Ster winced as his horse lost by only half a length. He opened his eyes to see another big smile on Ali-Samuel’s face.

“You won?” he asked.

“Of course, I won. And if you follow me, you will always win too. I have won every battle in the past thirty years for Donegal. Things need to change around here to bring this fading kingdom to prominence again. I have been around the world and Donegal is in the position of a fool right now with the exception of Mattingly. In fact, if not for Mattingly, Donegal would be infested with foreign armies, plundering and raping as they go. I tried to explain this to your father in much gentler terms but he didn’t want to listen.”