CHAPTER FIVE

THE KING & THE QUEEN

Magnus had walked this path hundreds of times, yet this morning it felt different to him. His talk with Ivy had drained him completely, yet he still couldn’t sleep. Too many things still tormented his mind for sleep to come easily. He walked around the back of the tower, Luna soaring up ahead. She was never far, and Magnus recalled now the day he brought Luna home.

It had been months after the birth of Rayner, and the banishment of Helvarr. Magnus had led his men on a hunting trip to the Hercynian Forest, which lay southwest of Godstone. They purchased rooms at a local inn just outside the forest’s edge in the town of Moore. This forest offered something not found in the Blackwoods.

A rare creature, the size of an ox with long coarse fur, and growing from its skull was a cross between branches and antlers. It had cloven hooves and the tail of a wolf. The locals named it the Tandrycian stag. Magnus had never seen one before the hunt, but he was sure he wouldn’t miss it based on the description.

They set out early in the morning to hunt. A local man named River accompanied Magnus and his men to offer a hand in tracking the beast. The forest was much different from the Blackwoods. The Blackwoods were always dark and full of even darker trees, shadows peeking out from behind every stump, the purple leaves keeping the sun hidden. But the Hercynian Forest seemed to glow.

River found some tracks and went ahead with some men who’d brought hounds to help sniff the stag out.

“The creature can change colors,” River had warned. “It’ll blend with the surroundings until we are close, and then BAM!” He clapped his hands together. “Its great horns can skewer a man. I’ve seen it done.”

“Does it eat other animals?” Magnus had asked River.

“Oh yes, its teeth are as sharp as any wolf.” River chuckled and walked ahead of Magnus, but Magnus wasn’t laughing.

They continued to follow the track until something caught Magnus’ eye. It seemed to be a firebug glowing up in the trees. The thing was casting a great light, bright enough to be seen during the day. Magnus stopped and watched the glow moving through the branches above. His men called back to him, and the king moved along, looking over his shoulder at the glowing object.

After a while, the hounds started baying and howling. The men turned them loose. The dogs took off running toward the sound of something crashing through the brush. Magnus now ran to keep up with his men and the dogs when they came to a clearing in the forest. Grass grew up to brush against their knees. The trees around them parted, creating a circle of light. The beast was massive, standing in the center surrounded by the hounds.

It scraped at the ground with its hooves. It was cornered and angry. The stag charged the closest hound, lowering its head as it ran. An archer loosed an arrow, and it buried itself into the neck of the beast. The creature reared its head back and let out a cry. The sound was terrifying, like a horse being slaughtered. An anxious hound charged forward and sunk his teeth into a hind leg. The beast thrashed the dog loose and tore its horns through the hound before he could escape.

“Hit him again!” River yelled.

Everyone drew their swords in fear as the archer pulled back another arrow and let it fly. Magnus watched the arrow sail just above the beast’s head.

“Again!” Magnus ordered. He was becoming nervous now, with one hound already dead, and the beast only growing angrier.

The archer hit the stag this time, the arrow protruding from its chest. Its brown fur was growing darker with blood as it seeped from the wound. When it stumbled, another hound took its chance. The dog leaped into the air to clamp down on the stag’s neck. As the beast flailed, it kicked another in the jaw, but it was slower, less precise. It was becoming weak. The men called their dogs back as the archer drew another arrow.

It sliced across the throat of the stag and embedded itself in a tree behind it. The beast then locked its sight on Magnus, stamped its hooves, and charged. The ground shook as the beast charged; the king lifted his sword, ready to jump out of its path and slice across its body. The archer hurriedly shot another arrow, trying to stop it. Just as it was almost upon Magnus, it stopped, ripping up grass as it skidded to a halt before him. It stood two men tall, towering over the king. Magnus lowered his sword, and the beast backed away, dropping its head before collapsing.

Magnus turned around, expecting to see a more massive creature. Instead, it was the glowing object--a bird. Its feathers seemed to glow in shades of orange and yellow, its eyes shining red. The king took a step back, cautious of the strange creature. The bird flew down and landed on a limb, eye-level with Magnus. The light that seemed to surround it disappeared revealing brilliant white feathers and its red eyes turned solid black. Magnus bent down, searching his pocket for biscuits meant for the hounds. He held out his hand and the bird flew to him, perched on his hand, and began eating the crumbs.

“What sort of bird is this?” he asked River.

“That is a Hercidrius. There is an ancient legend that says kings used to keep them in their castles. The bird could heal the king should he fall ill, taking the pain onto itself. It’s also told that the bird has other powers.”

Magnus narrowed his eyes. “What kind of powers?”

“I don’t know, Your Grace. I’ve never seen one this close before. Men used to tell tales of when kings lived to be hundreds of years old, and there was always mention of a particular white bird that they kept close.”

Magnus looked at the man like he was mad.

“You may not believe the legend, Your Grace. But who can say that it’s not true?” It was then that Magnus had decided to keep the white bird. Luna was near the size of a horned eagle by now, her wingspan longer than Magnus was tall. She was always close; that part of the legend was real. However, he never saw her glow again as she did that day in the forest. Her feathers remained snow white.

Magnus walked through the apple trees that stood behind the central tower. Their branches were bare, and fallen apples lay frozen in the snow. He continued to the northern gate, which faced the mountains, now covered in a fresh blanket of snow. The view was better from his bedchamber at the top of the tower. He could walk from window to window and gaze out upon four different worlds, reminding him of the Four Gods.

His father taught him of the gods and said that Godstone was named for them, as it was here that each of their lands converged.

“The All-Seeing God resides on mountain tops,” his father told him. “He sees the whole world from up there and all that we do. The forests belong to the God of Secrets, as he’s known to be a trickster. The Whispering Wood is said to have pine trees which uproot themselves to confuse people, keeping them in the God of Secret’s grasp as they become lost to the woods forever.”

Stories of that god used to frighten Magnus as a young boy, especially since children were told not to enter that forest alone.

The God of Judgment held the grasslands, as far as the eye could see.

“No man can hide from his punishment in a land so open and vast,” his father warned. It had been said that this god would punish people of his land by setting fire to their crops. And finally, ships that go down in a storm are thought to have angered the God of Lost Souls. He controlled the waves and the storms at sea, and people left offerings to the statue of him before setting sail.

Magnus was told the God of Lost Souls kept all that is lost at sea, including men, to add to his underwater army. If a body should wash up on shore after a shipwreck, it was taken as a sign that he wasn’t good enough for the god, so he gave the body back to the living.

Black, stone-carved statues of all four gods stood at every gate of the kingdom facing their land. They had stood there for hundreds of years since the first Blackbourne rose as king of those lands. Legends said that a boy was born on the black beaches, which is where the surname originated. The boy’s parents were refugees from the South, escaping a civil war. They sailed as far as they could, but the mother was with child and could be at sea no longer, so there they settled.

After she’d given birth, she told her husband that they would call themselves Blackbourne and start anew. They built the kingdom from nothing and raised their son to become the first king, swearing to defend the North from harm. These tales were not known to all, but Magnus would ensure that the written history of House Blackbourne would be passed along to Rayner when he became king. The future rulers of the kingdom would always know the history of their people.

Magnus climbed the stairs of the northern gate to where sentries stood guard. The knights snapped upright to greet their king as he passed. Magnus then walked east along the wall, noticing the heavy snow clouds looming above the mountains. He found one of the towers along the way to be empty, so he stepped inside. The towers were only used when the sentries needed to stay out of bad weather. He could hear someone approaching the tower and leaned his head out to see his wife making her way along the wall.

She had always been the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her golden curls cascaded down her back, and her green eyes always twinkled when she looked at Magnus. The queen wore a white fur cloak draped over her delicate shoulders. Her skirts swirled like green and gold smoke around her ankles.

“There you are,” Elana said as she approached her husband. “You didn’t come to bed last night.” She placed a slender hand on his cheek and kissed him softly.

“I was up all night talking with our daughter,” Magnus admitted. “She asked me about Helvarr.”

Queen Elana took a step back and furrowed her brow. “How did she find out?”

“She stumbled upon our names carved in the back of my throne. It was only a matter of time, I suppose.”

Elana twirled a golden lock around her finger nervously. Magnus knew she did that when she was thinking, so he covered her hands with his.

“What should we do?” she asked, looking up to her husband.

“It’s done, my love. I told her everything and answered all of her questions. Ivy is almost eighteen. She has the right to know of any possible danger. I’ll have the same talk with Rayner soon.”

“What danger? Do you know something, Magnus?”

He touched the hilt of his sword before speaking. “Weeks ago, before I called my bannerman here, there was a raven. Lady Oharra plants scouts all around the North to keep track of the raiders, and one of her scouts claims to have spotted Helvarr in Hideaway Harbor.”

Elana went back to twisting her hair. “Are they sure? Was he on the North side of the harbor?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. I can only trust what the scouts tell me. We’ll set off for Temple City soon, and it’s only twenty leagues from the harbor. I’ll take a small group to Hideaway and search the area to ask around the fishing docks. If someone saw him, they may be able to tell us where he went. Helvarr must surely stand out with his long black hair and that crooked nose. Someone will remember him, I’m sure of it.”

Magnus wrapped his arms around his wife and buried his nose in her soft hair. It smelled of scented candles and pine trees.

She turned to face him and said, “I don’t like this, Magnus. What if he comes farther North? I have a bad feeling about all this.” Elana had always been wary of Helvarr.

When Elana’s father, Lord Harald, heard that Magnus had taken his father’s place in Godstone, he visited the new king. Lord Harald and King Erwin Blackbourne never truly got along. Though Harper Hall resided in the South, Lord Harald never took part in the ongoing war. Magnus’s father grew stubborn with his age and had refused a betrothal between House Blackbourne and House Harper. Lord Harald tried to reason with the king, but he still refused, saying, “The North and the South will never mix.”

After the king’s weak heart finally took him, Magnus claimed the throne at the age of twenty. Lord Harald jumped at the opportunity to arrange a marriage for his only daughter. When the lord and his daughter arrived in Godstone, Lord Harald again asked if Magnus would take his daughter as a wife.

“My father never informed me of your request,” Magnus said.

“That doesn’t surprise me, Your Grace. Your father was called Erwin the Stubborn for good reason,” the lord responded.

They both chuckled, and Magnus agreed to meet with his daughter and give an answer the next day. Lord Harald explained that his daughter was a few years younger than Magnus. He’d struggled to find a suitable husband down South for Elana, as he didn’t want her in harm’s way with a house involved in the war.

“That’s quite alright, my lord. No need to explain,” Magnus had replied. “I’m sure she’s lovely. Could you bring her in?”

Magnus had sat on his father’s throne, waiting. When Elana walked into the Hall, Magnus felt his heart begin to flutter rapidly. His hands grew sweaty, and a knot formed in his throat. All the air escaped his lungs as he gazed upon his future wife. Her hair fell in loose curls to her shoulders, a velvet dress hugging her slim body.

Magnus quickly stood up and stumbled on the step as she approached. It was enough to make her smile, and that was all it took for Magnus to agree to the betrothal on the spot. The couple spent the rest of the evening walking, arms linked, talking about everything. Elana was to return home until the wedding the following summer as preparations needed to be made; winter was fast approaching.

Just before she was to set off for home, Helvarr returned from a hunting party. He trotted up to Magnus on his white stallion, keeping his eyes on Elana as he dismounted and brushed past his friend.

“Who’s this?” he asked with a wry smile.

Magnus cleared his throat and introduced his queen-to-be to his oldest friend. Helvarr licked his lips and planted a sloppy kiss on the lady’s hand. Elana forced a smile but moved closer to Magnus. Helvarr never took his copper eyes off her.

“Well,” he said. “I’ve got me a stag to skin. Your Grace.” He half bowed to Magnus laughing at his own sarcasm. “I’ll see you again, my lady,” Helvarr addressed Elana with a hungry stare.

After that first encounter, Elana was always uncomfortable around Helvarr and never wanted to be left alone with him. Magnus tried to defend his friend, saying he was harmless, but his queen insisted. The king obeyed.

Now, Magnus stood with his queen in the tower, looking out at the white mountains. He turned her around and kissed her forehead. “I love you, Elana, and I would never let anything happen to you or our children. You have to trust that the decisions I make are for a good reason.” He paused as her emerald stare pierced him. “I’ve been thinking, with the raiders edging closer and a possible sighting of Helvarr…I think it may be best if we send Ivy away.”

Elana withdrew from his arms, tears beginning to form in her green eyes. “Away? What do you mean? Where would you have her go?”

“Do you remember the knight who trained me? Ronin?” Magnus asked. “He resides South, on Kame Island. And I—”

“Ronin?” Elana interrupted. “You haven’t seen that man in nineteen years, and you want to send our daughter to him? For what?”

Magnus could see how upset she was becoming, and he never wished to be the reason for her tears. But this was the only way to keep his daughter safe. He just had to convince Elana that it was the right choice.

“I want him to train Ivy to fight,” he continued. “The North is no longer as safe as it once was, and Ivy is already skilled with a sword. Ser Osmund praises her every day, and perhaps my rules have held her back. She’s talked about being a knight ever since she was a young girl, beating her brother bloody with sticks in the yard.” He thought Elana might smile at that picture but she didn’t.

“King Mashu,” he continued. “He’s detached from the war and rules his island his way and sees no border across this land. The king is a good man, and he would take Ivy in as his ward. All I need to do is send a hawk explaining the position we’re in.”

The queen considered what Magnus said, twirling her hair around her finger. “I need to think about this,” she said and quickly brushed past Magnus.

Magnus found Ser Osmund in his chambers on the top floor of the barracks. The room was small, but cozy. The only furniture was a feather bed and a desk by the window. The knight hung his armor from hooks attached to the stone walls. Magnus looked at the fire roaring in the hearth, and Ser Osmund glanced up from a book as the king entered.

“Your Grace,” the knight stood, “are you alright?”

Magnus must have looked distracted. Elana took the news exactly as he’d expected, but it still hurt him to upset his wife.

“May I sit?” Magnus asked. Ser Osmund offered up his seat and went to pour a horn of ale for both of them. Magnus drank deeply before he spoke. “How well does Ivy fight?”

“Oh, Lady Ivy fights as good as any young man her age— better even. She grows stronger and quicker every day. I struggle to keep up with her.” Magnus nodded his head and smiled as he thought of his daughter fighting the older man. “You love Ivy like your own. I’ve seen it.”

Ser Osmund had been married once, but his wife died in childbirth, along with their newborn daughter. The day Ivy was born, Ser Osmund swore to protect her at any cost. They became great friends as she grew, which was why Magnus had asked him to begin training her years back. However, the knight wasn’t getting any younger, and she’d soon be too skilled for him to continue training.

“Ivy may require an escort to Kame Island. I’d feel much better if it were you at her side.”

The knight looked puzzled. “Your Grace?”

“You know Helvarr was spotted not long ago. And now that Ivy knows of him, I won’t have her—”

Ser Osmund choked on his ale. “So, she did ask you?” he said, wiping ale from his beard.

“You knew of Ivy’s discovery?” Magnus asked.

“She asked about him last night before the feast. Said she found carvings on your throne.”

Magnus drained the rest of his ale and held his cup out for the knight to refill. “Well,” he began, “it doesn’t matter now. She knows. If the scouts are right, then Helvarr is lurking around the border. I won’t have my daughter in harm’s way. I think it’s time she met Ronin.”

Ser Osmund nodded his head, agreeing. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me, Your Grace.”

“I’ll need you to pick a team of your best men to guard the queen when I leave for Temple City. Rayner will come with me, and, gods willing, Elana will agree to send Ivy away. Go to the docks and start asking around. We need a captain that’s heading South, as far as Port Tsue if possible.”

Magnus stood to take his leave.

“Your Grace,” the knight said, “how do you know Ronin is there?”

Magnus sighed. “Ronin took Helvarr’s banishment harshly and decided to leave soon after. He’d trained us both since we were boys, so when he told me he was leaving, I asked if he would return home to the Isle of Fire. He said no and told me he’d head for Kame Island so that he could live in peace and never train another knight.”

Ser Osmund looked at him, confused, “Your Grace, if that’s true, then why would he train your daughter?”

“Because Ivy isn’t training for knighthood, she’s learning to defend herself. She’s my daughter and a Blackbourne, and Ronin will train her.”

Ser Osmund only nodded and told Magnus he would start looking for a captain.