Forest & Kingdom Balance (4 page)

Frustrated beyond belief, Dionara could do nothing
but watch and wait. Moments after Froggy disappeared from view, her
vision was once again filled with light. This time though, it was a
brilliant emerald green. Once her eyes readjusted she realized
someone was approaching. He appeared to be a young man, strong,
tall and dressed in forest green.

The stranger knelt. “Princess, the Caretaker wishes
me to express his profound apologies, urgent circumstances have
called him away and he hopes that you will except my company until
he is able to return.”

Slowly, a cold feeling of vulnerability rippled up
her back as she realized that she was in a strange land and the
only person she knew or trusted was gone. Her playful mood had
vanished and her actions in coming here seemed reckless.
“I’m a Princess,”
she thought,
“I can handle this.”
She took a deep
breath as her fear subsided, “What is your name?”

“John, my Lady.” His head bowed in respect.

“Well John, it looks like Froggy gave up a perfectly
good meal, I hope it was worth it. Please join me.”

“With pleasure My Lady.”

As he moved to seat himself across from her, Dionara
looked into his eyes. For some reason it revived her memories of
the mist.
“Yes. The water.”

“My Lady, I know you have many questions, but first
if I may, I would like to welcome you on behalf of all the Forest
Dwellers to the home of your mother’s birth. Our love for her was
only exceeded by the grief we felt at her death.”

“What?” Dionara froze.

Interlude

At Sea

Sunlight spilled across maps haphazardly strewn, his
eyes idly followed the progression of highlight and shadow as it
mirrored the rhythm of the ship.
“When will this
incessant voyage end?”
A knock at the door awoke him from
his thoughts. “Enter.”

Tall, trim, and wrapped in the furs of a long ocean
voyage, Kalibra entered the cabin. Her golden hair wreathed in
morning light swayed with fluid movement, while her radiant
self-confidence reflected the training and heritage by which she
had become the Warrior Queen. “My Lord, land has been sighted. The
captain believes we will make harbor by late day.” She smiled in
anticipation of an adventure soon to begin.

“Excellent!” He drank in the beauty of her
magnificent flame. “How should we celebrate such wonderful news?”
He added as his hand slipped behind her neck to draw her close.

In a blur of speed that had cost many men their
lives in battle, Kalibra freed herself from his grasp and tossed
her furs aside. Slowly, she moved to the bed and untied her
leggings to remove the last barrier between her passion and her
lord. She leaned back open and inviting while her fingernails ran
lightly across her inner thigh. “I don’t know? What did you have in
mind?” She asked. His laughter made her skin tingle.

As much as her body aroused him, her flame
exhilarated him. He could feel her hunger and energy grow with each
caress, each hard passionate kiss. His spirit entered hers to blend
with her growing flame. She was power, strength and violence.
Infuriated by his gentle touch, she could wait no longer and
straddled him to feed her hunger.

Guided by her inner flame, he increased her desire
as she thrust harder and faster, but to no avail, for he kept her
prize at bay. He brought her to the edge again and again, each
plateau more intense than the last. Finally, forehead-to-forehead
breathing each other’s ragged breath, he looked into her eyes and
felt her flame about to brighten to its ultimate intensity. His
hands grasped her hips as she reached for a knife on the
sideboard.

She felt the power and fury of her passion crest as
she thrust the knife deep into his chest. Exquisite waves of
pleasure rippled through her as she dropped to the bed bathed in
crimson light.

A short time later she lain beside him as tremors of
pleasure echoed within like ripples on a pond long after the stone
had been thrown. He turned toward her, “Do you have to do that
every time?” He shook his head and smiled in acceptance of the
inevitable.

She retrieved the blood stained knife and carefully
ran it across her tongue, “Fair is fair my immortal lord, you were
thrusting your sword into me for quite awhile before I returned the
favor.” Her giggle ended in a salty kiss that reminded them both of
battle, and victory.

Chapter Two

The Banquet

I

“It was a good day.” He heard himself say out
loud.

The sun hung low above the sea, poised to dip into
the horizon’s blue gray clouds. A soft light filled the harbor
master’s deck high above the docks as he leaned back in his chair
and put his feet up on the rail to enjoy the crisp sea breeze that
cooled the afternoon’s warmth.

“Yes,” he spoke to the breeze, “It was a good day
and it will be a better night!” He smiled as he recalled the trap
he had sprung on that doddering old imbecile of a predecessor. “Now
I am the harbor master,” he gloated to himself, “and to the victor
go the spoils.”

His thoughts drifted to the forthcoming evening’s
well-earned pleasures, a good meal and the pretty young Mindow girl
he had purchased. “Yes, tonight will be a very good night indeed.”
He muttered in satisfaction.

“Ship Inbound!” The lookout’s call rang loud
throughout the docks.

“What?”
Begrudgingly the
harbor master removed his feet from the rail.
“There should be no ship inbound.”
He thought.
“When I find out who’s sending unscheduled ships
they’ll regret it.”
He stood to the rail and extended his
spyglass,
“Who will feel my wrath, north or
south?”
He located the ship just below the horizon and
looked to see whose colors she flew.

The spyglass dropped thirty feet to the dock and
shattered.

“Runner! Runner!” The master shouted as he leapt
down the stairs from landing to landing. A young Mindow boy met him
at the base. “You! Runner!” The master panted, “To the king,
quickly! Relay this message exactly, ‘The Red Knight will arrive at
the harbor within the hour.’” Upon hearing the name Red Knight, the
boy went pale.

“Tell anyone who stops you short of the king that
this message is for the king’s ears first, on my authority. Do you
understand boy? The king’s ears first! Now run as if you have whips
at your back, and you’ll feel those whips if you’re not as fast as
the bells! Now go!” Raphael turned and sprinted from the dock as
the harbor’s message bells rang out.

He ran for his life, literally.
“Run harder, run faster!”
Raphael chided himself.
“The Red Knight has come again!”
Terror
nipped at his heals as he ran. The Red Knight’s name was enough to
strike primal fear into even the most powerful, but to the Mindow,
he meant death itself, or worse.

From his earliest memories, Raphael had learned of
his people’s proud heritage and who was responsible for their
plight. Hundreds of years ago the Mindow lived in peace and
prospered. Theirs was the middle kingdom, the largest and
strongest. Although they could have easily conquered their
neighbors to the north and south, the Mindow kings had always
chosen peace and trade. Until the Red Knight came.

The Red Knight had come from the Far Lands, his
armada filled the horizon and the Mindow’s fate had been sealed.
With their king lost or dead and their defenses decimated, the Red
Knight declared that all the coastal peoples would become a single
kingdom. He chose a close advisor, a captain from the Far Lands to
be king and gave the northern and southern kingdoms the title of
protectorates.

In retribution for some offence their king had
committed, the Red Knight stripped the Mindow of all rights and
declared that they had no protection under King’s Law. The Mindow
were now non-people, those who avoided outright slavery had to beg
for menial labor to feed their children.

Over the centuries the Mindow found ways to survive.
They gathered in the poorest section of Old Town and built a
community where they could hold onto their heritage isolated from
the rest of Kingsport. Ask any outsider about the Mindow quarter
and you will receive a description of filth, sub-human squalor and
disease.

This is a fallacy that the Mindow encouraged, as it
left them in peace to follow their own traditions. While it was
true that the Mindow were poor, if an outsider did choose to enter
the quarter they would see clean streets, older buildings in good
repair, and a sense of pride. The Mindow made sure that no
outsiders chose to enter.

They had lost everything when the Red Knight last
came, everything but their heritage and self-respect. Those could
not be taken away by decree.
“Run harder, run
faster!”
Raphael told himself,
“The Red
Knight has come again!”

As the harbor faded behind him, his thoughts began
to clear.
“I must warn the Elders.”
His
route to the palace would take him near the Mindow quarter but not
through it. If he were seen to detour, it would mean his death, and
considering the message he carried it would be a slow and painful
death at that.
“I’ll risk it,”
he decided,
and turned for home.

As Raphael entered the quarter, he stopped to take a
deep breath and began to shout. “To the watch! To the watch! Any
elder come quickly! Spread the word, to the watch!”

The reaction was immediate, down each street
shutters flew open in order as the message was passed. Each echo
was exactly as Raphael had spoken it with his location the only
addition. Before he could even fully catch his breath, an elderly
woman raced toward him.

“I am a harbor runner,” Raphael began as soon as she
was close enough to hear him, “I bear a message for the king. The
Red Knight will arrive at the harbor within the hour.” He did not
wait for reaction or question, with his message delivered he vanish
with the speed of youth.

The news left Isabelle stunned. Suddenly, a single
though spurred her to action. She set off for the slave dancer’s
compound at a pace that dismissed her advanced age as a luxury she
could no longer afford.

II

Atheria’s eyes opened slowly.

A gentle light filtered into the room through
curtains swayed by the afternoon breeze. Atheria’s young muscles
voiced their complaints as she rolled over in her cot. Still half
asleep, she relaxed to enjoy a peaceful moment as her gaze fell
upon the forty straw mats and their occupants that filled the
sparse hall.

As lead dancer, the cot was hers by right, although
her love and empathy for her sisters who could not enjoy such
luxury, added guilt to her pleasure. She sat up quickly as her
sisters began to wake and instantly felt pain radiate from her
pelvis.
“The fat man,”
she remembered.

Last night had been difficult. The king had been
well rested which meant additional hours of dance. That was bad
enough, but as lead dancer she was also the prize gift of the
evening. Last night the guest of honor had been the Northern
Protectorate’s emissary, the one that the girls called ‘the fat
man.’ She remembered how his weight pounded against her as his
hands gripped and spread her ankles to the breaking point. Although
her sixteen-year old body was trained for flexibility, his abuse
tested even her limits.
“To be young, beautiful,
and Mindowan is not a good thing.”
She mused.

“After four years I should be used to it.” She
chided herself softly, and then felt a secret pride in her well
toned body as it loosened with movement and the pain receded.
“Maybe I’ll have it easy tonight,”
she
wondered,
“perhaps the Southern Viceroy will be
visiting.”

Her thoughts of an easy night were quickly replaced
by feelings of guilt.
“The new girls are just
twelve.”
She made a mental note to remind the older sisters
to seduce the worst of the lot. Atheria’s position gave her the
most leeway, and so a greater responsibility.

“No easy nights for awhile.” She sighed. Just as
Atheria resigned herself to another busy night, the door opened and
Sister Quenith came in followed closely by Elder Isabelle.

“Atheria!” The two women called.

Atheria sprang from her cot and crossed the room
taking advantage of her natural speed and agility to avoid her
startled sisters. “Elder Isabelle, Sister Quenith, a new day’s
welcome to you both.” Atheria used the Mindowan formal greeting in
honor the Elder.

“Time is of the essence child, come with me.”
Isabelle’s tone and countenance were grave. Sister Quenith stayed
to rouse her sister dancers as Atheria followed Isabelle into the
empty training room.

Isabelle closed the door and turned to Atheria. “The
Red Knight has come, his ship will be here shortly.” Isabelle’s
words were spoken softly but Atheria felt as if a mountain’s weight
of stone had fallen upon her. Fear rippled down her spine with an
intensity she had not felt in years.

Isabelle gave her a moment to recover, then
continued, “You are too young to have this responsibility thrust on
to you,” Atheria bristled at the assumption, “but you and I must
make a decision that will affect all our people’s future. Perhaps
to our redemption, or perhaps to our fall.”

Atheria wondered if Isabelle was being a bit too
dramatic,
“Okay, make that two mountains weight
of stone.”
She commented to herself. Then the certainty of
youth and her authority as lead dancer resurfaced, “Death is not
our greatest fear Elder, trust me.” Atheria’s reprimand made the
point that respect flowed both ways.

The two women stared at each other for a moment. The
invincibility of youth met the gravity of experience.
“Teenagers!”
Isabelle thought.