After Riku's narrative the rest of this chapter was written by me (ShardsOfGlass) alone. As times are very busy for all of the author's at the present time, for the time being this story will be written just by me. However if this changes at any time I will give appropriate credits to the other authors.
Chapter 4
The early morning air was calm and cool with not a breath of wind to speak of. The dark skies from the past few days lingered, continuing the solemn feeling spread through the kingdom.
There was barely anyone awake at this point; most of the castle was still sound asleep, save for the knights posted on guard duty. But down in the training grounds, one man was more than awake.
Constantly shifting positions between five upright logs standing in an x shape, Riku skilfully swung the wooden sparring sword, landing strike after strike. His face was one of anger and concentration, his thoughts consumed by anger towards the other royals, those who would disregard Nikita out of sheer greed.
With an angry shout, the Duke landed what would have been a killing blow to the centre log, finally pausing to catch his breath. Those knights that were awake knew not to interrupt him when he trained this hard: everyone knew the stories.
Sighing, Riku wiped the sweat from his brow and walked away, placing the wooden sword in a barrel along with all the others. He reached the chair which he had left his cloak on when he noticed someone else nearby.
“Do you ever sleep?” Asked Lady Helena, a somewhat sly look on her face. She was leant against one of the buildings bordering the training courtyard, studying him curiously.
What she was doing awake at this hour Riku had no idea, though knowing her family’s history, it was to aid herself in some way. “What are you doing here, Helena?” Riku asked.
Her lips curled into a smile. “I can go where I please for whatever reason I want. My business is my own.”
“As is mine,” Riku replied sharply, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword.
Helena’s hazel eyes followed the movement then snapped back up to his face. “You don’t need that, Riku. I don’t know why you carry it around everywhere.”
“Call it insurance,” he replied, eyes narrowing.
Helena twirled a strand of red hair around her finger. “Of course,” then she leant forwards and whispered: “Better safe than sorry, eh?”
“Something like that. Goodbye, M’lady.” Deciding he’d heard enough, Riku put on his dark green cloak in one fluid motion before walking back into the castle. To his annoyance however, Helena had chosen to accompany him. “Do you have a reason for following me, M’lady?”
“Oh,” Helena replied, acting innocent. “I just wanted to see if you were okay. After all, these have proven to be taxing days.”
“I’m sure you have more important matters to attend to than me,” Riku said then murmured, “like sewing or doing your hair.”
The feigned kindness faded from Helena’s face as she aimed a glare at Riku. “That wasn’t funny. And besides, I was being serious.” She moved closer then. “It must be hard having all of this stress to deal with all by yourself.”
“I am not alone in this,” Riku said, taking a step away from Helena. “And I can handle a few upset nobles. That said,” he sighed. “I appreciate your... concern.”
Helena considered his words for a moment before offering a small smile and bow. “You are quite welcome, Duke Riku.”
Riku turned to carry on walking and heaved open the doors to the castle, leaving Lady Helena watching him from the edge of the training grounds. He walked swiftly, passing servants as they readied the castle for the coming day. Riku mostly ignored them, making his way once more to Nikita’s chambers. He knocked on her door, waiting for a moment before entering.
The outer chamber was empty as he stepped further inside. He heard voices from the bed chamber and then Nikita and Mylene entered the room.
“What is it, Mylene?” Nikita asked, neither her nor her maid noticing Riku had entered just yet.
“Well, I was just wondering if I would be able to take leave today. I would very much like to see my family as I received a letter from my sister to say our father is quite ill.”
“Oh my,” Nikita said. “Of course you can have leave today. I’m sure I can manage by myself, and if not I can get one of the other maids to help me. I do hope he gets better. Send my best wishes to your family.”
Lady Mylene thanked the Princess then curtsied and hurried from the room. Once she was gone Nikita turned her gaze to Riku and sighed, sinking into a chair.
“Did you have trouble sleeping?”
“I have not slept well in days,” Nikita replied, rubbing her thumbs into her temple. “There is so much to think about, so much going on. There is no joy in this place anymore. The sooner all this is settled the better.”
Riku nodded. “Of course, I too would like to see Incasta as it once was, but I fear there may be no quick solution. The quickest route would be to arrange for you to become Queen, plan for a private coronation and then the other Royals could do nothing about it.”
Nikita sprung up from her chair. “Why did you not mention this sooner?”
“Because it is a flawed plan,” Riku told her, frowning. “There would be outrage. The Royals would see it as deceitful and would roil against you. There would no doubt be a civil war and your rule would most likely be...a short one...”
Nikita fell back into her chair. “I understand. No solution is ever simple.”
There was silence for a moment while they both were concealed within their own thoughts. Then, Riku smiled.
“What is it?” Nikita asked, suddenly sitting straighter. “I have not seen you smile like that in weeks.”
“There is no easy solution to the problem. But I think I have an idea that could bring joy to Incasta once again.”
*
Zyphire had her head buried in her pillow, the quilt pulled right up under her chin. Grumbling, she turned to her side and opened her eyes. There was a square of light over the bed and Zyphire shut her eyes at the brightness. She pushed back the covers and went to the wardrobe to find it completely empty.
Of course, Zyphire thought. She may be a guest but she was an exile and the Royals would not provide fresh clothes or even a maid for her. They’d even given her one of the less grand guest rooms; she knew, for she remembered when she was a little girl she would creep around the castle, looking in all the rooms.
Zyphire retrieved her pack from under the bed. She had only time and room to pack one spare outfit before she left to come to Incasta. It was slightly creased but that didn’t matter; it was better than the travel stained one she had arrived in the day before.
With a sigh she changed into the dress and made sure that the pendant around her neck could be clearly seen. She went over to the mirror to check her reflection. The large blue stone of the Royal family sat flush against her pale skin and she smiled. That would give them something to think about.
There was a knock at the door and she hesitated only a moment before crossing to the other side of the room and opening it. There were four guards stood there, led by a knight wearing the blue cloak and Templar seal that identified him so.
“Can I help you?” Zyphire asked, forcing herself to act politely.
“Lady Zyphire,” the knight said, “you have been summoned to the throne room.”
“By whom?” she demanded, wringing her hands.
“Duke Riku and the Royals,” the knight replied. “We are to escort you there.”
Zyphire stared at him. “Now?”
“Yes.”
She restrained from shouting at him. Once knights would have said “Yes, my Lady” but now she was denied their respect. She had been summoned. It was not for them to summon her at their will like some pet hound.
Instead of yelling at the knight and slamming the door shut she nodded and stepped out into the corridor. She had best go along with what they wanted, for now, she thought, or they would respect her even less and she would not get her wish for the ruling against her and Jaye to be reconsidered.
The guards fell into step, completely surrounding her, and she held her head high as she followed the tall figure of the knight in front of her. Once servants would have curtsied when she passed, now they only stared at her and whispered in her wake.
“What is your name, knight?” she asked eventually. The throne room was on the other side of the castle and she may as well strike up conversation to pass the time. No one wanted to talk to her by choice anymore, not here anyway. He remained silent and she asked again.
“I am not permitted to speak with you, Lady,” the knight replied.
Zyphire considered how to approach the conversation before speaking again. “I have been incredibly lonely this past day. No one will speak to me. I am no criminal. Talking to me is no crime. So tell me, what is your name?”
He was silent for a while and she wondered if he would ignore her again. “Airen,” he told her finally and she smiled to herself.
“Well,” Zyphire said. “Has anything interesting been going on in Incasta lately? I have been terribly disconnected.”
She saw Airen swallow before he spoke. “I’m afraid I am not permitted to speak with you, Lady Zyphire.”
“But you’re talking to me now, and you told me your name...” Zyphire persisted. He did not reply and she gave up on the conversation. They were in fact closer to the throne room at that point than she had expected and after a minute or so they were standing before the great, oak, double doors.
Airen pushed open the doors and stepped inside, signalling for her to wait. “The Lady Zyphire,” he said and then nodded for her to follow him inside, accompanied by the guards.
Zyphire held her head high as she stalked through the high-ceilinged room. She looked straight ahead though she could see the Royals that were gathered around the sides, near the end of the room where the throne sat empty. Light spilled through the windows and created patches on the floor; the torches along the left wall were lit even at this time of day as little sunlight reaches parts of that side of the hall.
In front of the raised throne was stood the stern faced Duke Riku, dressed in regal garn, his sword as ever at his side, his hand rested atop it. To his right stood Princess Nikita, and next to her Princess Strawberries. On his other side, with a little empty space between, Duchess Shards leant against one of the pillars that supported the grand, arched roof. The Duchess’s face was pale, paler than appears healthy, and she watched Zyphire with eyes that were filled with judgment. It seemed to Zyphire that the other girl could see through her, could see everything that she wanted to hide. She shivered at the thought.
Zyphire halted in front of Riku and he stared her down, although she felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze she stared at him back and did not falter.
“Lady Zyphire.”
“Duke Riku,” Zyphire replied, a smile touching her lips. “Is it that the Royals have...chosen...you as their leader?”
“No,” Riku replied, his jaw tense. “Temporary leadership is required at times like this and I am the most appropriate Royal for the job.”
“Oh, you think so, do you?” Zyphire said, raising one eyebrow.
Nikita coughed lightly. “Riku was the right-hand of my father and is most knowledgeable of political affairs and such like, so it seemed like he was an obvious choice.”
“I see.”
“I think it is time we got onto discussing the situation at hand,” Duke Riku said, and Zyphire’s gaze, which had been on Nikita, snapped back to him. “Am I right in thinking that you wish to contend against the crime the Incastain courts found you guilty of and the sentence of you and your brother?”
“That is correct,” Zyphire replied. “I-”
“You believe that you and your brother Jaye, are in fact innocent, correct?” Riku continued, interrupting Zyphire.
“Of course!” Zyphire exclaimed, infuriated. “May I present my case?”
“Not here,” Riku replied. “We must assemble the appropriate court and-”
“Then why have you summoned me?” Zyphire demanded sharply, her hands curling into fists.
Riku stared at her a moment before replying. “To confirm your claim and decide what we must do with you in the meantime.”
“You speak of me like I am an object to be bartered and sold and ordered about!” Zyphire’s voice rose in volume as she spoke and she quickly lowered her voice to a more controlled level. “I am not this. I do not see why I need to be treated so disrespectfully!”
“Lady Zyphire,” Riku said, licking his lower lip, “You are an exile and, for the moment, still a convicted criminal. We, the Royals, must discuss the terms of your stay here.”
Zyphire folded her arms across her chest. “Very well, speak of me in my presence, I do not need your respect.”
The Duke seemed to sigh slightly before turning to the Royals. “Has anyone an opinion to offer?” he asked. A few of those gathered exchanged glances but they remained silent. “Anyone?”
A young woman stepped out from behind the other Royals with a silent elegance. Her black hair was arranged elaborately with hair pins adorned with pearls and her violet-grey eyes barely glanced at Zyphire before they returned their attention to Riku.
“You want opinions,” she began. “And so I shall give mine. The Lady Zyphire should not be permitted to stay here. She is an exile and we cannot make exceptions because the late King is her uncle.” Her posture was strong as she spoke and although her face was young and innocent it seemed that beneath her creamy skin was something less delicate and secretly sly.
“Princess Noa,” Riku said, folding his arms behind his back. “Zyphire has contended the charge placed on her and her brother. Therefore she cannot leave until a decision is reached by the courts. If she is still found guilty her exile will be reinstated.”
Noa stared at him with cold eyes and stood completely still. “It appears to me, that you are defending her.”
The eyes of the Royals swapped between Riku and Noa as if watching a match of badminton and now they lay on the Duke. There were a few hushed gasps and whispers around the room.
Riku’s eyes narrowed. “I do no such thing. I merely state the laws of Incasta and I obey them.”
“How could you suggest that Noa?” Nikita said, shaking her head. “Have you lost your common sense?”
“I state merely what I observe,” Noa replied, her unfaltering gaze still fixed on Riku. “But I see that may not be the case on this occasion.” She stepped back into the gathered Royals but continued to stare at the Duke.
Zyphire watched the Princess with curiosity. She did not recognise the girl and assumed she must have arrived at the castle after her...departure. What Noa had said made sense, it did seem that way, but she did not think Riku would support her.
Riku wrung his hands behind his back. “Anyone else?”
“She should be allowed to stay in one of the rooms, but there should be a constant guard outside her door,” Lady Craft suggested and Riku nodded.
“She should have her meals alone, in her room,” Shards said as she stared at Zyphire, “and she should be restricted as to when she can leave her room. If she wishes to go outside at any other time she must inform her guards and receive permission from Duke Riku.”
“Good, I think that is the best way to approach this situation,” Riku said thoughtfully. “Lady Zyphire do you agree to these terms?”
Zyphire’s jaw was clenched and she narrowed her eyes at the Duke, about to retort. At least it would be better than having to stay in the dungeon. “I agree.”
“Excellent,” Riku said. “You will be escorted back to your room and we will inform you of the details of your...stay...when they have been decided.”
Zyphire took a deep breath to contain her frustration before replying. “Of course.”
Her guards fell into step around her and Airen led her to the oak doors. She could feel the eyes of the Royals following her until the doors swung shut behind her. She would do as they wished, for now, until such a time as they no longer had such power over her fate.
*
It was getting dark. The moon had begun to rise and it hung ghostly in a gap in the canopy. The trees rustled in the wind and somewhere in the distance a bird called. Sedar weaved silently through the trees. The ground was uneven and he stepped over a gnarled tree root that reached up through the earth like a claw. His pack felt heavy on his back, despite the weight having not changed in the last few hours. He needed to find a place to spend the night before he collapsed from weariness.
He had intended to reach the other side of the Forests of Tinsia by then, but he had taken the opportunity to hunt and make a lunch of rabbit stew. Fiia neighed, pulling on the reins. Sedar reached up and patted the mare’s neck: they were both tired.
He came to a stop at the edge of a small river that wound like silver through the forest and released the reins so the mare could dip her head into the water and drink. Sedar knelt down on the bank and filled his almost empty waterskin.
By then it was night and cold began to seep through Sedar’s clothes. He couldn’t risk lighting a fire, even this far from Incasta, so fumbled with his blanket and unrolled it, laying it out in the shelter of a tree. He made sure Fiia was tied to the trunk, lest she was spooked by a woodland animal and tried to run away.
Even with his hood up to shelter himself from the wind and his blanket wrapped tight around him he was still cold. Fiia, lying next to him, radiated a little warmth though and he moved to lean against the mare’s side. Eventually he managed to find sleep, but it was short lived.
Fiia nudged his side and his senses snapped to alert instantly. The mare was on her feet and neighed, stamping her hooves and tugging on the rope that tied her to the tree.
Something was wrong.
Sedar sprung to his feet and reached for the bow and quiver that had laid on the ground next to him. Slowly, he notched an arrow as silently as he could manage. He spun in a circle, peering through the trees. All was silent.
There was a flash of light to his right and Sedar spun, releasing his arrow instinctively. A wall of fire had appeared beside him and the arrow disappeared through the flames. He held up a hand, squinting at the brightness and backed away from the unnatural blaze. As he watched another wall rose up, shooting sparks into the air. Sedar turned and began to run back to the tree. He untied the rope that tied Fiia to it and flung his pack on his back and mounted.
With a cry, he kicked the mare’s sides and she sped away from the fire. They had not gone far before more fire reared up, appearing from nowhere. Fiia reared up, her eyes bright with fear, and Sedar had to cling to her neck to avoid being flung from her back. As he whispered to her and tried to get her back under control he looked all around him and saw that they were completely surrounded by fire.
He pulled his sword from its sheath, the blade glinting in the light of the blaze. As he squinted at the wall he saw the flames flicker apart to create a narrow gap in which a cloaked figure appeared. The black cloth hung from the person like wisps of smoke and as they stepped through into the ring of fire the gap crackled closed as quickly as it had appeared.
“Who are you?” Sedar bellowed. “What do you want from me?”
“No distance is far enough for you, there is no sea that can conceal you,” the figure replied. The voice was recognisable as feminine, and sounded like song, but a song that was cruel to the ears.
“What do you want from me?” Sedar repeated as Fiia shied away from the cloaked figure.
“What do you think?” she said. “I am here to end you!” In barely a second a blade was in her hand and raised to his chest. It appeared like an icicle, the length of a long dagger and with a narrow handle. It glistened with a grey-blue tinged and ended in a point far more pointed than any blade he had ever seen.
Sedar looked all around him. He was trapped, and who knew what else this witch was capable of. He barely had time to think, and certainly no time to plan. His eyes went back to the tree beside him and the adrenaline pumping through his veins drove him. The woman lunged forward with a cry and Sedar swung his legs up and leapt from Fiia’s saddle onto a branch of the tree. The witch’s blade swung over Fiia’s back, swiping at empty air.
She seemed to snarl at him and moved her hand in an arc. The fire changed direction in an instant, blown by an invisible wind, and the tree caught light. Sedar cursed and pulled himself along to the end of the branch. His plan had been to leap over the fire but now he was there looking down at the ground the jump seemed much bigger.
He looked over his shoulder at the rapidly approaching flames as they ate away the bark. His eyes widened as he saw the fire reach his branch, saw it weakening. Balancing precariously at the end of the branch, he bent down and then sprung. Up he soared as the branch snapped and crashed to the ground with a spray of sparks. He flew, the flames clawing at his boots. Then he was over and landed hard, rolling to break his fall.
Pain shot up his leg and he cried out. He did not remain still for long though and scrambled to his feet, almost falling again. He cursed. His foot was either broken or badly sprained. There was an angry cry from behind him and he charged forward through the forest, staggering between the trees, aware of the darkness before him and the light of the flames behind.
His breathing was short and sharp as he tried to suck air into his lungs, his arms pumping by his sides, and his hand reaching out occasionally for the support of a tree. Then, without warning, the shadowy shape of the woman reared up in front of him. Her palm was held up to him, as if telling him to stop, then he was knocked off his feet by an invisible strike. He flew through the air and landed on his back with a thump, knocking the air out of him.
He saw her blade before he saw her, the firelight glinting off it’s deadly edge. Sedar raised his sword to block her attack, blue sparks flying from the witch’s weapon. He saw a glimpse of part of her face, her pale skin and lips, and then he kicked out, striking her square in the chest. She staggered backwards a couple of steps and Sedar rolled to his feet, swinging his sword.
The woman attempted to block his attack but the parry went awry and Sedar’s blade cut across her cheek. They were still for a moment, calculating each other. Then Sedar struck out at her, feigning left, then slicing at her right. His blade cut across her side, ripping the material of her cloak.
She clutched at her side and staggered backwards. She murmured a few words then a wall of fire rose up between them. Gradually, the flames died away, and when they were gone, there was nothing but the darkness of the wood behind them.