Suzerain of the Beast (Vision Dream Series Book 3), page 12
“Yeah, yeah. He’ll kill me for this, he’ll kill me for that. I have had enough of that swine’s threats. Now get out of here before I change my mind, and I kill you.”
The leader and his remaining men walked their horses away without saying another word.
“Kazzbeird will never give up until he has you,” said Rozdardon.
“You are probably right, but we don’t have the time to worry about him right now,” replied Erlerwin.
Rozdardon looked off in the direction the thieves had taken when he noticed a flat boulder and what looked to be a cold cooking fire. He jumped down from his mount and went over to investigate. He saw smaller footprints that were not entirely covered up by fresh snowfall. They could be hers, but there was no way to be completely sure. Nearby, he spotted the tracks of a horse…no, of a small pack animal. A donkey.
A donkey?
The donkey’s partially buried tracks led off towards the west.
“What is it,” said Erlerwin.
“A small campsite. Only one person. And there was a donkey here,” said Rozdardon.
“A donkey? She had no donkey with her,” said Erlerwin. “No one did.”
“I know,” replied Rozdardon, feeling discouraged. “It may be just refugees from the battle.”
Then something caught his eye. It was hanging on one of the low branches of a bramble bush. He saw what appeared to be a piece of tattered cloth. He walked over to it and found that it was a scarf. He held it up. It was the same tattered scarf that Roseverinda had used to cover her hideous makeup. Rozdardon held it up.
“We go west, Captain. And as quick as we can this time.”
❖ CHAPTER 10 ❖
SHE HUDDLED UNDER her heavy gray woolen blanket. Angelterra had wrapped herself completely with it, head and all, when they finally reached the bitter-cold air of the Apertine Mountains. The higher they flew over the mountains, the icier the perpetually driving wind became. Hyzinarwaan, the great bone dragon upon which she rode, suggested that she use her magic to warm the blanket, and that his riders long ago had used that same trick to keep themselves alive and comfortable when crossing mountains. The princess thought of the warmth of a hot summer night’s storm as she tried to infuse the gray wool of her blanket tent with her magic. Immediately, thousands of tiny jagged bolts of blue-white lightning flashed all around her like a strange miniature thunderstorm, lighting up the inside of her blanket tent. Soon the blanket was toasty warm as Angelterra watched the azure light show caused by her own magic.
Her thoughts drifted off to her missing being of First Magic, Concera. Concera, when she manifested herself in this world, appeared as Angelterra’s exact physical copy. Yet nothing about Concera was from this world. Her doppelgänger’s true nature was most likely more like some of the other beings of First Magic that Angelterra had seen during the unbinding ceremony for the dead high wizards of Bazzleron. Those beings of First Magic, once unbound, became formless beings of light after shedding the physical attributes of the human with which they had bonded. The small black pouch of powder that Angelterra always carried with her was a conduit for her connection with Concera. The princess wished she had learned more about First Magic and magic in general. She had to discover most things about it on her own as she escaped first, Shutharja’s army, then his minions who had abducted her. Most wizards went to study the art of magic at the Wizard’s College on the Isle of Bazzleron for years and years before receiving their pouch. A wizard’s bonding with a being of First Magic was a sign that they had completed their apprenticeships and were now full wizards. She would have loved to study all the ways of magic at the university and be able to cast spells expertly, instead of being only a wizard of instinct and impulse…and ignorance. But Angelterra had none of that. No formal training at all. Lord Bazzleron had come to her palace long ago to be her personal tutor…or perhaps he had come for some different reason. Without an explanation, he had given her a pouch of First Magic when she was only a very young girl. And though she had somehow blocked out the memory of it, her little-girl self had opened the pouch and bonded with a First Magic being, a being she later named Concera…even though Lord Bazzleron had instructed her to never open the pouch.
Without full contact with your First Magic, you must be careful using magic, Little Vessel, Waan warned her.
It amazes me that I can even do any magic at all without her, she replied.
It is true that wizards have personal magic within them, but it is weak. I knew one wizard who was able to do full magic without his First Magic accompanying him, said Waan. He had a bond with his First Magic that is so strong that he could tap into that magic anytime without calling his bonded one to him. But such power is dangerous. Humans do not have enough self-control to do it for long without it consuming them.
Angelterra thought of Lord Bazzleron who used powerful magic without a being of First Magic with him until he called his being back to battle with Shutharja. They had sacrificed themselves to save her and her sea dragon son.
We are on the other side of the mountains, Waan advised her.
Peeking out of her flashing blue blanket, Angelterra saw a vast, snow-covered forest of pine and fir. Though it was late afternoon, the sky was dark and gray. In the distance, she watched as dozens of snow squalls formed gray-white sheets of snow, starting from the base of the clouds and flowing all the way down to coat the ground. Angelterra glanced at her bracelet and noticed that two of the glowing oval stones were now pointing slightly to the right.
Northeast, thought the princess.
They needed to turn in a northeasterly direction. Waan made a banking maneuver towards the northeast as if the bone dragon had read her thoughts.
I do not wish to alarm you, Little Vessel, said the bone dragon. But I am unable to…feel the presence or energy of the one you call Shutharja.
Waan, that means at any time, you could lose your— she started.
The bone dragon’s massive body suddenly began to jerk and heave. Angelterra latched herself tightly to its bony vertebra and held on with all her might. She hoped they would not….
Suddenly everything dropped straight down. The force of it sent her stomach into her throat. She did her best to lean over as far as she could and to not scream as they fell. The pressure of their plummet was too much and she vomited violently. The two of them continued to drop from the sky. They were going to smash into the ground at any moment. Then the dragon began to spin wildly. Angelterra couldn’t help herself and vomited again. She had to do something to slow their descent. And do it quickly. She closed her eyes tightly and relaxed her mind, letting the sound of the wind rushing past her ears fade away into the distance. In her mind’s eye, she saw a pulsating blue sphere before her. It was the dragon’s essence, and it was slipping away, its blue light dimming quickly.
I need to help it.
She imagined her hand reaching out and touching the pulsating sphere.
To offer it my own light.
A well of white light flared up within herself as she touched the dragon’s essence sphere. She willed the light inside her to build, to brighten. When it was sufficiently brilliant, she let this light from deep within her flow out through her arm into her hand and then finally into the heart of the dimming blue sphere. The sphere began to burn a brighter blue.
Angelterra opened her eyes and found that the dragon was once again flying straight and level. She wanted to say something to the bone dragon, but she was utterly spent. All her energy was gone. It was an effort for her just to hold up her head.
This will help, but it will not last, said the bone dragon to her mind. I will try to slow down as much as I can. Thank thee, Little Vessel, for freeing my essence from Shutharja’s grasp. It is time for me to leave this world’s fate to you, for I must go on to my next adventure. Fare thee well on thy quest, Little Vessel….
She felt a peacefulness emanate from within the dragon’s glowing sphere of its essence for a moment and then its soul evaporated away. As soon as it did, the entire skeleton of the dragon flew apart in all directions. Angelterra was thrown into the air. Her body was spinning. There was the sound of bones crashing against bones all around her, and then…she hit something…something cold.
❖ ❖ ❖
When is this silly jenny going to stop?
They had been moving westward for hours now without stopping. Roseverinda had to bend as low as she could and hang on as tightly as possible to the jenny’s neck ever since their path had led through a more dense part of the forest. Without their leaves, the low lying branches were hard to see and were even harder when they whacked her in the forehead. She was sure she had several bruises to show for the trip so far. But the branches were the least of her worries. What was now starting to cause her anxiety was the direction of their travel. Every hour they were getting farther and farther away from Erlerwin.
She missed that handsome Palzintine captain. She had never met someone before that she felt so completely at ease with as this foreign soldier. Perhaps she could give up her life of thievery and scams to live in a nice little house and bear this man a brood of children.
A brood of children? Rose, you have lost your mind over this one, she scolded herself.
Yet the thought of it was not altogether unpleasant. This man must have some strong magic to make her feel this way. She wondered if he was worrying about her now. Or had he just counted her among the war casualties and gone on to something or someone else?
No, not that one. He was a righteous man, and he would be looking for her for as long as it took.
That thought made her smile. A sudden jerking stop by the little jenny jolted her out of her reverie and nearly spilled her onto the ground. Roseverinda glanced down to see that the jenny had halted before a tiny, but snow-swollen, brook that was winding its way through the forest.
“Finally, Jenny Girl. I thought you would never stop. Where is it you are taking me with such haste? To your home? To your master? Or maybe you do not even know, girl,” said Roseverinda, as she dismounted and stroked the neck of the now drinking donkey.
She pulled out some of the oats from one of the packs and set a handful or two on the ground next to the brook. The jenny lifted its head to look at her for a moment before starting to eat the offered food.
“Sorry, girl, I do not know how long we will be traveling together, so that is all you get for now,” she told the donkey.
Roseverinda began to rummage in the pack for something for herself to eat. She grabbed a piece of hard tack and bit off a chunk to chew on. As she searched the pack deeper, she felt something soft. She pulled it up. It was a blue headscarf. Her ears were freezing, and this just might do the trick to help keep her ears nice and warm. It was odd that she had not ransacked the pack for its valuables. She blamed that on the bedeviling effect of the Palzintine captain. She wrapped the scarf around her head, then she wished she had a mirror to look at how it suited her. Standing over the brook, she shifted about a bit until she got a good look at her reflection in pool of stiller water.
“The scarf looks very nice, but I look hideous. I no longer need make up to appear grotesque,” she said to her reflection as she pulled at her face.
The jenny finished her oats. Roseverinda finished her hard tack and tied up the packs.
“Come this way. We need to turn around and head back to the Palzintine encampment. Would you not like to meet my Erly? I think you would really like him,” she said to the donkey, as she guided it to a second trail she spotted that led northeast, that led back to Erlerwin.
“Good, Jenny Girl,” she rewarded the donkey with a pat as she mounted it.
They started to walk down the new path and Roseverinda was feeling confident that she would be with her captain soon. They hadn’t gone far when she thought she heard a growl. Then, the jenny froze in its tracks, nearly throwing Roseverinda off into the snow.
“Why are you always stop—”
Just ahead of them, she spotted exactly what had caused the donkey to halt so abruptly. A lynx, with the hackles of its beautiful, black-spotted brown coat raised high as it looked up from chewing on a still-steaming carcass of a deer directly at a growling, barking, black bear, which was challenging the Lynx for its dinner. The standoff was getting heated between these two deadly rivals, as the catamount roared its claim over the carcass, while the black bear made several bluffing charges in an attempt to steal the meal. All Roseverinda wanted to do was to get out of there as fast as they could before she and the jenny were discovered. All she just had to do was to get the jenny to slowly turn around and walk away from the scene. Roseverinda nudged at the jenny’s neck, indicating the direction its should turn. But instead of a slow, quiet turn, the jenny swung around and bolted back down the way they came. She had learned to lay low and hold on tight to this jenny or risk being thrown off and left to deal with the bear and cat on her own. She glanced backward and saw that the two predators were much too occupied arguing over the ownership of the deer carcass to notice the donkey’s mad dash.
Soon they were well away from the danger. But Roseverinda noticed a new problem. The donkey had resumed its earlier course on the trail leading westward.
What if Kazzbeird’s men had come this far east? They would not give up the hunt for Erlerwin that easily…if ever.
She tried a few times to halt the donkey, but it was no use. She would just have to wait till the donkey tired and stopped on its own. What she wouldn’t give for a good, obedient horse. It wasn’t long before the jenny slowed its pace considerably and then finally stopped. Ahead, Roseverinda heard the sound of a much larger stream or maybe it was a small river. She dismounted and nudged the donkey to walk with her the rest of the way to where they both could get a drink. The banks of the stream were hidden by a bramble hedge covered in snow. She could only see the water through the opening in the hedge the trail made. When they reached the stream’s edge, Roseverinda knelt down and quickly scooped in several handfuls of the refreshing, ice-cold water down her throat. Next to her, the donkey greedily lapped at the icy liquid.
“We were almost dinner for those two back there,” she said to the donkey.
Roseverinda heard the sound of giggling. It was coming from all around her. She stopped and glanced up. There lining both sides of the stream bank were about twenty women and girls. Each with a basket of laundry as they knelt down and beat their clothes clean in the cold water of the stream. Roseverinda stood up.
“Is there a village near here?” she asked to no one in particular.
“Hey, thief, that is my scarf…and my donkey, Patrina!” someone screamed. “Oh, Patrina, get away from that wicked woman!”
Then she felt the point of a sword in her back. It poked her deep.
“Well now, it seems we have a young woman who is a robber come to our village. Did you think to come here to steal even more, thief girl?” asked a raspy voice.
❖ ❖ ❖
Dareldin was led into the private reception chamber of the Rosverdarian king by a stoic palace guard. The guard told him nothing of why he had been summoned. But he had some ideas. He had spent most of the day searching the castle for Princess Swevladilia, his Adilia. No one in the keep had seen her. And by afternoon when he asked about her, he was getting a cold reception to his inquiries. People in the keep had a secret about Adilia, and they were not about to let him in on it. Now it was getting close to evening, and still there was no sign or word about her. He had not seen Adilia since the night before at the victory dinner. After the commotion that Angelterra made with her departure atop of that bone dragon, the young Rosverdarian princess had simply disappeared. Her sudden absence disturbed him, but not as much as when he had awakened this morning to find himself alone. Totally alone. It was almost as if some kind of spiritual veil had been brought down between he and Adilia. The connection, their Iunctio, seemed just out of his reach, and the feeling made him edgy. The palace guard opened the door to the royal chambers and motioned for Dareldin to enter.
Dareldin entered and found the king standing there at the room’s large stone fireplace with his back to him, while the queen stared out a stained glass window that was fashioned into the image of a glass mosaic of a pair of shoes, painstakingly pieced together and leaded into place. The overcast evening sky gave little light so the room was illuminated by a half a dozen twegtin candles.
“Sit, will you not, Prince Dareldin,” said the queen. She turned and walked over to one of the three chairs set close to the fire and sat down, motioning him to do the same. He sat next to her. “Do you know why we have called you here?”
“Adilia. Something is wrong, isn’t there? I feel it…or rather, I do not feel it,” said Dareldin.
What do you mean you do not feel it? Use the Iunctio, man,” said the king, annoyed.
“Peace, my husband,” said the queen. “You must forgive him. We are both distraught over Princess Swevladilia’s…disappearance. She has just…vanished.”
“Vanished?” repeated Dareldin.
Where would she go? And why?
“We do not know where she is. She has been asking me a lot of questions about…her heritage since you arrived. Has she said anything to you, anything at all, about wishing to go somewhere?” asked the queen, sounding almost desperate.
“No, Your Majesty, she never said a word about taking any journeys or of being unhappy here in Rosverdar. Quite the opposite, all I was able to feel from her were the happiest of thoughts. And that she was full of contentment,” said Dareldin. He wanted to go find Adilia immediately. This talk was making the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Could something have happened to Adilia without him having even a clue?
“This may be more serious than I thought. She has indeed used it,” said the queen.
“Why did you teach her how to do that, wife?” moaned the king, still facing the fireplace.
