Epic In A Bottle

As it turned out taunting the superior officer, though immediately rewarding was not beneficial in the long run. The political climate of Eltesnia and especially within the high court of Cznorh was changing, distancing itself from the powerful intrusion of the House while elevating the authority of the King's Council. King Dalma vehemently opposed this shift from the start, but he was swayed over time by the pervasive efforts of those closest to him. The direct ramification for us was that Nalev's ties to the House mattered less and less. And Savlii was poised for retribution.

Lev was promoted to the Office of Disciplinary Affairs which had the dubious honor of trying and executing all offenders of Houseborne misconduct, including infractions perpetrated by Eltesnian citizens. Savlii took enormous satisfaction in knowing that his nemesis spent every waking hour treading lightly with his personal life while being forced to uphold a system that he despised. I remained with Lev as his secretary for a number of months before he had a sudden miraculous recovery with his eye sight and sent me to live with Zbinka as her guard. Those were bittersweet times for all of us and, as in the never ending war, we took comfort wherever we could find it.

*******
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go to Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,
Getting Started.

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Welcome to a sudsy, barbaric farce

2009-07-16T22:54:00.002-04:00

Part: Collaborative Blog, Epic, Soap Opera, Social Commentary

(Part Finished)

Everyone's a critic, that's why I allow open comments.

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go to Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,
Getting Started.
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"Fluff" by Misha

2009-07-14T23:52:00.007-04:00

My life had been filled with people telling me where to go, whom to hate and, somehow even more insidious, whom to love. Neopar gave me his assurance that he would do whatever was possible to find Lev. Unfortunately, it also left me rather exposed and vulnerable, precisely how the king preferred his companions. He was given to many fetishes, most of which were better suited for the kitchen than the bedroom. He was also obsessed with fulfilling the prophecy of, whatever he called it. Most times I tried to shut out his voice, which was no small feat because of his boisterous and jovial nature. He never spoke in a normal conversational tone. It was always either booming and grandiose or emphatically hushed. It was little surprise that the Queen kept her distance from him. The power of Belaurii was fully on her side of the family tree which was why he was so preoccupied with screwing Fen and that prophecy. While my job might have been a new personal low at least I was not the mistress and it would not be me sent off to the chopping block at Dophe's whim.

Since Neopar had very little to do in court Fen and I were his primary entertainment. It was easy to get him drunk and have him pass into a deep, deep sleep. That was about the only time we could socialize with Hetta and Taisia who became very dear friends to me. Fen had the habit of making herself scarce, as if it wasn't my job to notice, and I would generally find her the following morning in much better spirits. Neopar, on the other hand, would wake up a complete wreck and swear off drinking, until the next time we needed to silence him.

As bad as it typically was, it got markedly worse when Neopar threw his back out logrolling and was laid out flat on his back for weeks.

"Well, go on," I said to Fen who was lounging about reading a book of poetry.

"I'm almost done with this page," she said without looking up.

I took the book from her. "And this page is done for the night. If you'll excuse me, berry seeds are chafing my foreskin."

"I don't like berries."

Time passed slowly. Nothing made sense to me. Too much was happening that was out of my control, out of my reality. I decided to join Misha in Gelassi where we I threw ourselves into our labor. We wondered when or if we would ever see those we loved again, but refrained from giving shape to those fears and insecurities.

The messenger caught us by surprise. He brought Misha a note from Tironik.

My Dear Misha,

There has been an accident. Nalev has been gravely injured and I alone have stayed behind to take care of him. I know what he means to you, to all of us, and I could not leave him in the care of strangers. I pray that you and Fen reach us in time.

Yours, Niko

Misha instructed the messenger to take the letter on to the court of Cznorh to Nalev's wife and the two of us were off.

We arrived at the tiny Inn of the Teapot and found Tironik reading to the non responsive and heavily bandaged Nalev in a small room to one side of the kitchen. Tironik got up at once to greet us with a hearty embrace then poked his head outside to call to the cook for some food.

"What happened? Robbers?" Misha inquired.

"He lost his footing on some slippery rocks and tumbled a good way down. It was just an accident. It could have happened to any of us."

"He's said nothing?" Misha sat beside the Eyre.

"He said, 'I cheated'. That was really all. He's been in and out since then, never much longer than to take a few drinks."

A pained smile crossed his face and he looked away from us.

"Niko," I said quietly and gestured toward the door. We went to the bar and had several rounds while we waited for the cook to ready our meals. I knew Misha well enough to know what Nalev was getting at, and how it hit him.

"What about the rest of the party?" I asked.

"I've sent scouts to find their trail, to see if they made it to the next stop, but to no avail. It's like they just vanished. There was so much confusion after the accident. I'm sorry that I don't have better news."

"At least we should have about a day or so before Rad'en' finds out."

"He's already upstairs. I sent him a message the same time I sent yours."

"Kranch," I muttered into my drink.

We had just coerced Misha to eat something when Rad'en' walked into the very small and very emotional room. Rad'en' was not yet forty and could best be described as average in every way but one: his temper. He was notorious for his quick temper and, in that, he most reminded me of my father. Luckily Tironik's easygoing nature and years as the unofficial peace keeper between the King and Queen prepared him for, well, just about anything...

"Misha," he said coldly.

"Rad'en'." The sarcasm was missing from Misha's voice...

End of RETRIBUTIONS

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

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End of the Holy War, Commentary by Tironik

2009-01-10T16:12:00.020-05:00

After years of trying to annihilate each other, I first met Misha face to face during the surrender of Gelassi at the end of the holy war. I really don't think that anything could have prepared me for that day...

We had been in the thick of it for three days, with casualties soaring on either side. Eyre Tosdoc, the high commander, had been slain and, absent both Naeri and Hezason, I found myself in charge of holding our position.

On the foggy morning of the fourth day, there was only stillness. I sent out a scouting party to report back on any activity from Eyre Nalev's battalion. Fearing a trap, my expectation for seeing the twenty men again were not high and our men remained poised to resume the fight. The first sign of movement occurred at the height of the day. Not only had the scouting party returned, but they were joined by Misha.

Zubastyi, the senior most member of the scouting party, presented me with a lengthy document.

"Commander Tironik," Zubastyi began. My attention was on Misha who was unarmed, unrestrained and quite at ease. "Eyre Nalev has received confirmation that the Lane has been freed by King Eburgistraten and Misha has been appointed to negotiate a truce between the Houseborne forces and Kanabulan."

"So he sends us his page?" I asked still befuddled by the situation as it was unraveling, not at all trying to sound condescending.

"Companion, please." Misha corrected. "Erye Nalev is even now personally disbanding entire Houseborne legion."

"Without a truce?"

"Our directive from Eltesnia was to wage the holy war until the freeing of the Lane. As that objective has been met, we have no choice but surrender to Kanabulan."

"How many are in your battalion?" I asked.

"We are three thousand."

"Three thousand men prepared to march unarmed across No Man's Land and into this camp?"

"Yes. It is in writing." Misha gestured to the document that I hadn't as yet consulted.

"We have no accommodations for three thousand prisoners."

"Then we must make them. I assure you, Commander Tironik, that unless the new Eltesnian king can use his sway with court in council, the Houseborne have no place to go."

My decision was to wait until the return of either Naeri or Hezason. I had Misha taken to a holding area where he could gain little information as to our troop size or availability of resources as I contemplated the complexities of the situation.

In addition to my many years of service as field surgeon, my less official duty was to keep peace between my mistress Naeri and Hezason. While we did our best to keep hostilities directed toward the clear and present danger of the Eltesnian forces, the two hotheads would invariably, in their quest to prove their honor, courage and superb military leadership, wind up in the same battle. Naeri possessed a passionate loyalty to the throne. Her fearlessness and ability to quickly apprise and lead sound but daring counterattacks made her loved among the common soldiers. Unfortunately as the darling of Prince Eburgistraten and wife of Hezason, she was ill-favored by most officers who considered her brash and uncontrollable.

I had received message from a forerunner that it would be Naeri, joined by an additional 500 soldiers, that would bring the king's directive to the encampment at Gelassi. She arrived early that evening. Gone was the crazed look of vengeance from when she stormed off to find Hezason after Eyre Tosdoc's death, downgraded to her typical fiery stare. She dismounted her horse and I took her hand.

"My mistress," I bowed politely. She said nothing until we moved to into the privacy of the command center. She removed a large leather sack from her back and placed a great number of documents onto the table before us.

"Burgi has left us will a multitude of correspondences between himself and King Dalma proving their collaboration to free the Lane and what events they hoped would follow. We have sent men into Cznorh to meet with the king, but we have lost all contact with them and fear that they have been captured as spies and executed."

I looked over the letters and notes before me. "And he told you nothing about this?"

"Nothing. But it appears that my mother was involved from the very beginning. She too has been sending diplomats into Cznorh but they have been turned away."

One particular passage in a letter from King Olan to Eburgistraten caught my eye.

"If fate has chosen you to succeed in this crucial endeavour between our peoples before those stubborn, self-seeking bastards of my council have altered their rulings, then you must be prepared to aid the most loyal and down-trodden as testament to the good faith between us now and forevermore."

"So they expect us to open our camps and invite them in for tea?" I said rather sarcastically.

"It appears so. Send for Misha."

The Truce of Gelassi took nearly two months to draft and was never officially signed by Eltesnia proper. During that time the Houseborne were incorporated into our midst as enemy noncombatants. The war continued, waged now almost entirely by the secular army.

A terrible illness swept through the court of Cznorh claiming the life of King Olan, Princess Adelaide and her infant son as well as many, many others. It seemed that the recently crowned King Roarke would not any agreement between his father and Eburgistraten and decided that an unrelenting push would bring Kanabulan to its knees. The Houseborne were declared mercenaries and traitors and the King's Army authorized to bring them in, dead or alive. Ironically until that declaration most of the 3000 had busied themselves either in expanding the prison camp or providing sundry noncombatant aid to our soldiers at the front.

Already considered the enemy of their former country and with no new direction from Eyre Nalev who had gone to King Roarke's court, many of the Houseborne, under direct supervision of Naeri, took up arms with us. The added incentive of citizenship was promised for all who fought for Kanabulan.

Misha had been one of the first to accept the offer. He had been a formidible opponent and was now a welcomed ally.

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

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"Companion. If You Please." From Fen's Memoirs

2009-01-05T22:01:00.015-05:00

Zyta's mother Serena was a very young woman when Misha came to live with her family. At the age of five, all Houseborne males were separated into two groups: those who would remain and become the next generation of priests and the majority that would be reared by host families in Cznorh proper. The host family provided the basics of food, shelter and a clothing until the child turned twelve and began their training at the military academy.

Serena was the youngest of three children and the only girl. When her mother passed away Serena and Misha became inseparable. Unfortunately Serena's father didn't care much for Misha. The sounds of laughter and frivolity always seemed to set him off, at least when he'd been drinking. On more than one occasion he'd erupt in to into a fit of anger usually directed at Serena. Misha would intervene, but to no avail. Soon enough Misha turned twelve and Serena never saw him again.

One of Serena's brothers became an officer in the secular army. The other sibling was killed in a hunting accident.

"With no one to leave his jewelry business to, it was passed on to my mother and father when the old man finally died."

She still hadn't gotten to why she was here and I didn't care what sad heart story she was weaving. I didn't like her. She reminded me of every fair young maiden that ripped me to pieces in not one, not two but all three courts. And she was going to be set lose on D'Hir.

"My mother included Misha in her will. At the end of the holy war my father and I set off to find him. With their army disbanded and with no place to go the Houseborne scattered. A good number had surrendered to the Kanabulan army and later offered to take up arms with them against the secular army when the war continued. Some turned to begging or stealing. At any rate, most were considered criminals."

"Misha, being the legendary oldest page of all time..." Neopar started.

"Companion. If you please."

"And a fine companion you are. Misha was not terribly difficult to find. Zyta's father traveled all the way to Belaurri to carry out Serena's dying wish. Isn't that beautiful?"

"When did all of this happen?"

"While you were out galloping about the countryside, I'm sure." Neopar quipped.

"What other secrets are you hiding from me?" I asked Misha.

"None," he responded. I knew him well enough to believe him despite his curt tone.

"How does all this make her suitable for service? What makes you think she'll be successful with D'Hir?"

"I have no choice," Zyta replied softly.

"What she means to say is that her father has accepted a position as, um, something or other, in an undisclosed location until they can be safely be reunited."

"Neopar, you're holding him prisoner?" I accused more than asked.

"He is a guest, a very closely guarded guest, but a guest none the less." Neopar turned to Zyta. "Well, my child, I believe it's time we said good night."

"I almost forgot," Zyta went back into Misha's bedroom. She returned with a neatly folded shirt. "Misha asked me to take care of this."

I took the shirt, thanked her and showed the two of them out. After closing the door I turned abruptly to Misha.

"Tell me her mission is really D'Hir."

"Her mission is D'Hir. She's really a sweet child, Fen. I think you're overreacting."

"I bet she has fabulous feet," I muttered under my breath. "Was that part of the plan," I gestured to his side.

"A scratch was part of the plan, but that was too difficult for such a mediocre swordsman as the Lord of Inger."

"How much did her mother leave you?"

"Enough to retire from this lap of luxury to one of my own design."

"When are you leaving?"

"When my job is finished."

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

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Sometimes You Just Misjudge People, from Fen's Memoirs

2009-01-03T23:33:00.019-05:00

It was the night of the great feast after the fast of Purlong. I was always surprised when it was celebrated in Belaurii because it wasn't yearly as it was in the House and Cznorh. I also found it interesting that there were more Dzai living in Belaurii than anywhere else. Later I would discover that it was because Belaurii had much to gain from the great war yet suffered few casualties.

Most of my knowledge of Dzai customs and rituals were imparted to me by Hetta. Hetta's mother was a member of the House and an expert seamstress who decided to leave and marry a wealthy patron. That was unusual for two reasons: the patrons from Kanabulan were rarely well to do and apostasy was not dealt with lightly.

Her parents rose to quasi fame as dress designers for the court of Olan, but the knew the real money was in Cznorh and Belaurii --that the House had ways of carrying out commerce even across enemy lines. A mutually beneficial agreement was drawn up that, in addition to the monetary benefit to both parties, the official standing of Hetta's mother was upgraded from "heretic" all the way to "friend and benefactor."

I watched the doctor stitch up the gash Misha's side while he lay on our dining table and couldn't help but reminded of Hetta and all of her stories.

"I've never seen you lose, Misha."

"It has been known to happen, just not of late." He winched slightly as the needle went in and out of his flesh. "Don't you have something better to do? I'm alright."

"The King wanted me to check on you."

"You know, I really thought the Lord of Inger liked men. I still do."

"We all thought that. Perhaps you weren't his type."

"First, all humility aside, just look at me."

"All done, Misha. Take it easy until it heals." The doctor began to clean up his supplies.

"Thank you, doctor."

"Second, even if it were in the remotest sense possible, that would hardly be cause to try to kill me."

"Certainly killed the party." I paused. "Can I ask you something...?"

"I'm not telling you where I hid his shirt. I cant stand to see you moping about in that dirty thing."

"Forget the shirt. It's been over four months since I've heard from him."

"He doesn't write to me, dear."

"Nalev does."

"And I've let you read the letters from him."

"All of them?"

"Yes, all of them. Everything from Nalev is about politics and the settlement. When King Roarke shuts himself up in his library he sees no one, not even Nalev. I assure you, Fen, this has little to do with you."

"Now let's get you up and some where more comfortable." The doctor helped move Misha to the couch.

"Thank you."

"Good night to you both." The doctor nodded and left.

"Misha...?"

"Is it going to be one of those nights, Fen?"

"No, I could leave you here in pain, but then who would you have to insult?"

"What is it?"

"If the Houseborne males were forbidden to read and write, when did you learn?"

"It seems that immediately Nalev won me in the card game he suffered extensive loss of his near sight and had to teach me so I could handle all his correspondences."

"Was that legal?"

"Not legal, but very practical."

The door opened and Neopar made an uncharacteristically quiet entrance.

"Well it seems that yours truly has had a better night than either of you." He paused and turned to Misha. "How are you?"

"Fine."

"Good, good. I just had the most interesting talk with the Lord of Inger." The King poured himself a drink and finished it as Misha and myself waited.

"I wouldn't want you to forget, Neopar," Misha condescended. Most people have wanted to kill Misha at some point or another, but not Ompar. Misha was many things, but not a fool.

"No, I won't." He poured himself another drink. "How thoughtless of me," he gestured with the bottle and his glass.

"No, thank you," I responded.

"The Lord of Inger is terrified, yes, I believe I can say that without undue exaggeration. He has evidence that someone in Belaurii was behind the coup in Cznorh."

"Did he name them?" Misha asked.

"Not as such. But only the Queen is capable of instilling such utter terror. We need to get the Lord into Cznorh for questioning and safe-keeping. Are you well enough to ride?"

"Of course he isn't. He'd bleed to death on the way. I'll go."

"I don't know who I can trust to send with you."

"Speed is all I have. Tell me where he is, and I'll take care of the rest."

"I'll have horses made ready."

"There are 550 guests leaving as we speak, finding two horses saddled up and ready to ride will not be a problem for me."

The horses were not the problem. Unfortunately, the Lord of Inger was not waiting in Neopar's study and no one in his entourage had seen him. I went back to tell the men the devastating news but also that I would continue on to Cznorh to question the one person who might be motivated to speak against Queen Dophe: D'Hir.

"Absolutely not," responded Neopar.

"I'll be fine."

In your current state of panic you're a menace to us all."

"But, I've done what you asked of me. And the Lord of Inger --."

"No, you did exactly as I expected you would do and created a frenzied diversion to confuse the Queen and her allies. The Lord is quite safe and already in transit. As for D'Hir, he does need to be questioned, but by no means is that going to be left up to you. Lady Zyta will go."

"Zyta the laundry servant? When did she become a Lady?" I inquired.

"When Ompar was firmly convinced that I could be trusted," was Zyta's reply as she stepped out of Misha's bedroom.

"Ompar?" I repeated.

"Someone's jealous," Misha smirked.

Zyta was young, fair and sweet. I hated her. "I am wounded, King Neopar, that I should be left out of plans of such importance."

"I came here in search of Misha," Zyta said. "Nothing more..."

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

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A New Order, from Fen's Memoirs

2009-01-03T17:37:00.015-05:00

I stayed many days at the seaside thanks to the gracious hospitality by the locals toward the king's mistress. Even though I had traveled with only the clothes on my back there was such an outpouring of gifts that I in turn needed to give away before my departure. The journey, at a relaxed pace, took the better part of a day.

After taking my horse back to the stables I went to my quarters to change and rest before the evening meal. Soon there was a knock at my door. It was Misha holding a letter.

"I heard you were back." He came inside and handed the letter to me.

"Thank you," I said.

I recognized the Hetta's handwriting at once.

My Dearest Fen,

If you are reading this, please know that I am sorry that I did not have the chance to say goodbye in person. I have been in service to your family for three generations, loving each of you as my own.

After you left, I received word from Vay that a great friend of mine in the House has begun a rapid decline and her memory is quickly fading. For whatever time she may have left and despite whatever the toll it will take on me, I must be at her side. I trust that you will understand and forgive my hasty departure. I am set to leave with King Roarke and D'Hir who have graciously offered to send be the rest of the way to Kanabulan with escort.

I can teach you no more, my dear Fen.

With Much Affection,
Your adoring Hetta

I cried. It was a much needed release.

"Don't get all emotional."

I buried my head on Misha's chest. He put his arms around me. "This isn't about Hetta, is it?"
I shook my head."There is another letter for you."

"God--not from D'Hir," my voice crackled.

"Not from D'Hir. I wouldn't expect to hear from him any time soon."

I looked up at him and he smiled warmly. "Well?"

"Yes, give it to me."

"Please."

"Yes, please, Misha. May I have the letter?"

"There will be a lecture later." Misha reached into his shirt and handed me another letter. I looked at it for a moment.

"Is it from--?"

"Yes."

"Read it to me."

"Absolutely not."

"Have you read it?"

"No, but he handed it to me personally."

"Did he say anything to you?"

"He said, 'Please give this to Fen.' Now if you want to know anything more, open the damn letter!" He paused. "I'll be in my quarters."

I tore open the letter and sat down on the couch.

Dear Lady Fen,

We leave today to Cznor. In all this time since you've been gone I have not regained sufficient courage to speak freely with the King and Queen. I shall be eternally grateful for the trust and kindness between us.

As I return to my home, it is my utmost concert that D'Hir and I must suffer the loss of our loved ones once more, only now as we rewrite history with the truth that must be told I fear is will be more painful to him than the lies.

I must apologize to you, Fen, that I have you at a terrible disadvantage. D'Hir's letters to me spoke countless volumes of your warmth, beauty and great tenacity. When the dust has settled, I should like very much to have the opportunity to meet with you again.

Until then,

Roarke

I read it twice more before placing it in a locked drawer along with the letter from Hetta. As I went to pick up the pitcher from my vanity to have it sent down to the kitchen my foot caught on something on the floor. It was Roarke's shirt. I folded it and placed it with the letters.

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

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Fenaway, from Fen's memoirs

2009-01-02T17:53:00.013-05:00

I was startled to find him already inside, naked to the waist and cleaning himself after the fight. Surprise turned to horror as I saw the thick scars across his back. He laid the towel he was using down on my vanity and turned to face me.

"I said I needed quiet, Fenaway, not solitude."

I offered him a clean robe and we sat together on my couch. Though the image was already burned into my head, it was improper for me ask. "Thank you," I said quietly, "For defending my honor."

"Without honor, we are nothing. In that Misha and I are in complete agreement." His eyes were peering deep into me. The tables had been turned on me. "I'm sorry, Fenaway. I have failed you--both of you and brought dishonor on the alliance Burgi and I vowed to protect at all cost."

It had been such a long since I heard that name. Only Burgi had called me that as a child. Fen, away from the knives, the wine, the older boys. It spoke to me of the closeness between those two men, caught on opposite ends of the war, yet cut into my very soul. I closed my eyes for a moment and fought off the tears. He was good.

"I'm listening."

His hand slowly brushed away an errant tear from my cheek. I caught his hand and held on and waited.

"There were rumblings in the council against my father. Many feared that his deep ties with the House were a disadvantage to the other sects. They were mere rumblings when I sent you and D'Hir here. None of those loyal to my father had any idea how swift the tide would change against us. Vay and all members of the House were barred from entry to both court and council. We foolishly believed that our actions would appease the opposition. There was a fleeting calm before the plague descended upon us, brought on not by god but a violent coup."

"The council had them killed?"

"Until only I remained, with no will left to challenge them. Paynor needed a figure head to keep the country from falling into anarchy."

"Eyre Nalev?"

"With the end of the holy war Nalev returned to victorious. Instead of a hero's welcome, he was thrown in prison. His wife Zbinka helped to restore order and justice to the court. It was she who appealed to Paynor to allow for Misha to be found and sent to you and D'Hir, and was greatly surprised that he agreed."

"D'Hir knows nothing of this?"

"Three days ago, Fen," he started. "Three days ago I poisoned the council like the vermin they were. But that wasn't good enough for the mastermind Paynor. I would take no chances with him." Roarke let out an uneasy laugh and bit his lip. "After years of being robbed of all I loved, my dignity and my country I severed the head of the beast as he slept. And what of that do I tell my only son and heir to the throne?"

"The truth. What else is there for you?"

"We need you, Fen. D'Hir's letters to me gave me strength when all else was lost. He wrote only of you. All those years, Fen, only of you. Together we can make some sense of this."

"I can not return with you. D'Hir knows that." I said.

"You know I would be within my rights to hold you to that agreement."

"I know you will do what is right for D'Hir and not deny him the chance to have someone worthy of his attention."

"He's sleeping with the Queen, isn't he?" I looked away. Judging by the trembling in his voice, he blamed himself for that as well.

"And you, are you happy here?"

"Being Ompar's mistress affords me many freedoms I would not otherwise enjoy."

"Ompar?" Roarke chuckled. "You will think me a great hypocrite..." He began.

"You are among friends here. You have my word that no harm will come to you."

He brought his face close to mine. There was no more talk either past or future, only one moment that blended into the next, all too perfect for words.

When at last he fell asleep, I pulled away from his embrace and he rolled peacefully onto his stomach. I kissed his ear and softly ran my fingertips across his back and knew that nothing could rival the scars to his soul. It pained me to leave him there, but he would not be surprised.

I quickly got dressed and went into the night. I rode faster and farther that I had ever gone on my own. I rode and rode, all the way to the sea. But there was no peace for me there, only solitude.

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

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One Lavish Party After Another, from Fen's Memoirs

2009-01-01T19:13:00.017-05:00

There were many diverse tasks associated with being mistress to Ompar. It was even possible to excel at a good number of them with my dignity intact. I enjoyed the parties. The planning was as endless as the money at my disposal. So many opulent choices with the food, wine, ambiance. Pouring over the guest lists with Neopar hour after hour to determine who would need what kind of attention in order to drop their guard and divulge their hidden agendas. That was intriguing. Often my problem was that the King's voyeuristic tendencies precluded the when and where of my fact finding missions. Other times, it hardly mattered. Hetta warned me that I was becoming too jaded. I assured her that if the proper occasion ever presented itself, that I could choose to be as sunny, trusting and altruistic as humanly possible. While I failed to convince either one of us by my statement, in time it would come back to haunt me.

After two years of more of the same, one peaceful afternoon as I fed grapes to Ompar with my feet, which he adored for their daintiness, and he played cards with Misha a messenger from King Roarke awoke us to the inevitable. Apparently King Roarke had much to discuss with us in person and would be there with his entourage in three days. Apparently...?

"Does the Queen know?" Neopar inquired.

"Yes, your Highness. She said that you should make the necessary arrangements."

King Neopar waved the messenger away and resumed playing.

"Three days? Kranch. What do you want me to do in three days?" I straightened myself from my recumbent position on the couch.

"Magic as usual, poppet."

"And D'Hir?" I inquired. The debauchery between he and Dophe had gone one much longer than we anticipated.

"The Queen keeps few secrets from him," Neopar replied matter-of-factly.

"And how are we delicately going to inform King Roarke about--" There was more than a note of panic in my voice.

"I have no idea. Absolutely no idea. Love to hear what you come up with, my dear." Neopar gave me a crooked smile and a wink, that was his way of waving me off.

Fortunately for me, money and power provided the necessary incentive to do the impossible, at least in the material sense. Countless scenarios ran through my mind as to how to broach the subject that his only son and heir had been used these past two years as the Queen's plaything. None ended well. Certainly if Queen Dophe were more diplomatic and less of a contriving shrew she could handle the very situation she created for herself. My only real hope was to have D'Hir packed up and ready to return home with his father as soon as possible.

"You mean our things?" D'Hir asked when I spoke to him a few moments later.

I forced the whirlwind in my mind to halt long enough to really look at him. "You need to go, D'Hir. Your father needs you." I tried to be as feeling as I could.

"But what about us? We can start over."

"So Daddy comes to get us and makes everything all better? Come on, D'Hir, listen to yourself." Admittedly, that was not the type of feeling I was trying for. "What can he possibly say for himself? Leaving us here for so long."

"He was protecting us."

"Protecting us? That's not good enough for me."

"He's the King. He doesn't need to justify his actions," D'Hir stated.

"And you and I, D'Hir?"

D'Hir put his hands on my shoulders and spoke softly to me. "We're survivors, Fen." He bent down and kissed the top of my head. I found myself embracing him. Part of me wanted to believe that he loved me, that he'd always loved me. But that was only part... I mainly just wanted him gone, and with as little bloodshed or bad feelings as possible.

Despite his exuberance at being reunited with his only son, there was a heaviness about him. I feared that he had already found out about the Queen and tried my best to keep him distracted with the revelry. I pretended not to notice as his eyes followed me around the room. But I did notice. And something in his gaze made me uneasy. I had another drink to steel my nerves and focused on my objective: facilitating the hasty departure of D'Hir, King Roarke and their entire entourage without endangering the long-standing alliance between the two countries. There was no one better for the job at hand, but my reputation was about to become my undoing.

After enjoying some levity with the musicians and dancers I returned to the table honor to find Misha and King Roarke engaged in a heated discussion.

"There, there, gentlemen," King Neopar tried to pacify them. "The Great War is finally over and we have much cause for celebration." Neopar raised his glass to make a toast.

"The war ended with the freeing of the Lane. The senseless debacle that endured these past two years was completely unjust, fought without honor and devoid of mercy." Misha exclaimed.

Misha was the last person I would have imagined to challenge King Roarke.

"There were many obstacles preventing a truce until now," Roarke said defensively.

Misha continued his objections. "What obstacles? When the holy war was over we lay down our weapons and marched into oblivion."

"And the rest of the Houseborne did not fare as well as you, Misha." Roarke's reply was sharp.

Misha stood in an imposing manner and I placed my hand on his shoulder to ease him back down.

"Is it true, King Roarke? Has the fighting come to an end?" I asked.

"Even now, Eyre Nalev has taken control of the entire secular army. We two have spent much time formulating a plan for the gradual integration of the Houseborne as full citizens."

"Nonsense!" Misha snapped. "If such plan existed, Nalev would have written to me."

I heard the Queen herself gasp. Roarke rose to his feet and shouted, "Damn your insolence, man!"

D'Hir approached the volatile standoff. "Pay him no heed, father. It is the drink talking."

I tried again to gently guide Misha back into his seat. Neopar was little diplomatic help. To him, this was mere foreplay. Misha turned his face around to me and scowled, "Don't touch me you whore."

Considering the source of the comment, this was less insult than statement of fact. To King Roarke, it was an outrage. He looked to his son to defend my honor but was only appalled by his lack of chivalry. Roarke stepped forward and struck Misha hard across the face. Misha responded in turn. The music stopped.

The king and guard drew their swords as D'Hir and I rushed to get out of the way.

Fortunately the fight was short lived. Misha put away his sword and offered a hand to his clearly bested opponent that lay flat on his back. Roarke accepted the aid. D'Hir picked up his father's sword and held it out for him.

"Misha, a word," King Neopar called. No one expected to see either of them before morning.

"I beg your pardon, Queen Dophe. I must take my leave for the night. I am in need of quiet." He motioned for his entourage to stay.

"I trust that clearer heads will prevail in the morning. Until then, King Roarke." Dophe gave him a polite nod and he walked off alone.

I didn't know how much of what I'd just witnessed was real or merely an act, at that moment I didn't care. I went to King Roarke's guest room but was informed by his guards that he had not yet returned. Considering the time I wasted dragging my feet down the corridors, I found that difficult to believe. None the less, I went to my quarters to come up with my next move. Then discovered that it was not at all my move to make.

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

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A Proposition from King Neopar, from Fen's Memoirs

2009-01-01T13:37:00.016-05:00

King Neopar's hand remained on my shoulder as he led me off to his sitting room. He called for his servants to bring food and wine as he attempted to comfort me.

"It's all a game to her," Neopar said as he poured me a cup of wine. "Don't worry, no harm will come to the boy." He paused and studied my face. "How long have you been here now, Fen?... While the Queen and I have been gracious hosts, I believe it is time for you to face the fact that you're not going back and to do what you can to control your circumstances."

"I have been a diligent lady in waiting for over two years now."

"Yes, and I know how exasperating it is to spend that much time with the Queen, but look at trouble that has brought upon us all. No, my child, I believe you would fare far better with me."
He let me think about this while he ate. My hunger won out and I sat to dine with him.

"You remember my mistress Delcine..."

"That the Queen had beheaded."

"Yes, but not because she was my mistress. Delcine was stealing from the Queen. Dophe was well within her rights to punish her, as if a Queen needs to justify her actions to anyone. But you're getting me off point."

"So sorry, King Neopar."

"Call me Ompar, please." His gestures were quirky and he was incapable of subtlety, but I found him not in the least bit threatening.
"Ompar."

Neopar smiled so warmly that a few drops of wine dripped from the corner of his mouth. I leaned toward him and wiped it off with some linen, thus beginning my tenure as new and final mistress.

Upon receipt of the news of my new court appointment, King Roarke sent a congratulatory letter along with Eyre Nalev's former page who was to be my new guard.

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

*******
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Strangers in Court, from Fen's Memoirs

2008-12-29T19:28:00.039-05:00

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

Part II - Retributions

For nearly five years D'Hir, Hetta and I lived in the court of Queen Dophe and King Neopar without much ado. Other than the absence of D'Hir's parents, our lives were pretty much the same. At least mine was. I had grown accustomed the feeling of abandonment; however, D'Hir missed his family terribly. Hetta and I had become his only real family and friends. I loved Hetta. She was the only person I trusted completely. To everyone else I was a pawn. There was comfort in knowing that most of the scheming was altruistic.

As much as we both loved Hetta, once D'Hir was old enough to ride we overlooked no opportunity to escape into the countryside. We always said that each time we would go just a little bit farther until at last we would find ourselves all the way to the sea where we could stow away on a ship and explore a world far removed from our pampered, dictated and confining existence.

It was at the seaside were Roarke and Adelaide took their last holiday in Belaurii with us before their baby son was born. Yasper always seemed to be ill and the Prince and Princess never left his side. A dark cloud seemed to fall upon their court. Despite Burgi's sacrifice in freeing the Lane and the end to the holy war complete with the voluntary disbanding of Eyre Nalev's men, the fighting between our countries waged on, even intensified. Yasper perished before his first birthday. His mother and the King himself were taken by the same plague, leaving a grieving Roarke as the new leader. No matter our persistence, Roarke was adamant that we stay in Belaurii lest we fall victim to the same fate.

D'Hir had finally surpassed me in height, which was a great relief to me. Before that time he had the dreadfully annoying habit of staring at my breasts as we danced in court events. He was becoming a young man and the fondness and familiarity we shared for so long seemed to be lost to awkwardness. Another four years and we would marry as arranged by Burgi and Roarke long ago in some great alliance the details of which neither one of us seemed to be privy. I looked for any opportunity not to be alone with him. There were my dalliances with men around court which I managed to keep from him, but not from the watchful and vengeful eyes of Queen Dophe.

I had become lady in waiting to Queen Dophe when I turned twenty even though she had never liked me. Burgi had humiliated her by refusing to set in to honor the alliance of marriage after Drezi was killed by the Lane on the eve of their wedding. She made sure that the minds of the women of the court were set against me, which is probably why I found the company of its men so alluring.

My mornings were generally consumed with the arduous task of dressing the Queen and perfecting her coiffure, all the while biting my tongue as she found countless things for which to chide me. If she was feeling particularly malicious she would offer me the opportunity to play a game of cards with her. I had grown very good at devising strategies that ensured her victory. Eventhough I owed her a king's ransom already, I could not imagine the misery that would beset me should I dare to defeat her.

One particular morning, despite my noblest efforts to feign amusement and joviality, the Queen saw through me to my utter boredom and disgust. The games went on and on. We didn't stop to eat and I dared not ask even to get up to stretch my legs which kept falling asleep. A grueling eternity passed as my stomach growled and eyes blurred. Evening came and went. Finally the tedium was interrupted by a knock on the door. For the first time in many months I was truly delighted to see D'Hir when the Queen invited him into her parlor. I started to sort through the cards of the interrupted game when I was curtly dismissed.

If I was at first confused by her move, the baudy ruckus that ensured quickly dispelled any misconceptions. I knocked on the door, and was ignored. I knocked harder. The Queen's only response was to move the action closer to the door. While I stood in my astonisment, I was joined by the only person in court that the Queen despised more than I.

"There there, poppet," King Neopar said as he patted me on the shoulder, "She'll give him back when she's done with him."

"Two things I need you to know before you leave," Prince Roarke told me before D'Hir, Hetta and I went alone for our stay in Belaurii. "Keep an eye on D'Hir. I'm counting on you to keep him out of trouble." He made an uneasy sigh and looked my squarely in the eyes. "And whatever you do, keep your distance from King Neopar." I did my best to honor those two requests, and was quite successful up until that night.

Next --->>

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"Creating Misha", from Fen's Memoirs

2008-03-11T08:47:00.041-04:00

Looking back, it was no real surprise that I be so drawn to him. He was my constant companion, strong and silent--a blank canvas to satisfy my every need...

With the holy war over and the Houseborne disbanded, King Roarke was faced with a societal conundrum. As one of the bastard class, Misha had no rights of citizenship, was prohibited from marriage, garnering wages and even reading. Men in the tens of thousands suddenly had no place to call home. Even as the secular war continued to rage, these men were prohibited from joining the ranks of the true countrymen and land owners. Erye Nalev, who rose from the worker class with the aid of the religious class, used every influence he possessed to end the oppression of those who had served their country so valiantly. To the Eyre, Misha's appointment, even in a foreign country, signaled a monumental change that would give hope to generations of men. To Misha, it was babysitting...

Never more that twenty steps away, Misha's charge was to see all without looking or speaking, both night and day. The intent was for him to become an invisible part of the scenery. I spent my days trying to reinvent myself among the young women of the court. The handiwork was tedious and the gossip was mainly about my exploits. Ironically, the Queen's disdain for me seemed to subside. She was pleased that the perfunctory relations with King Neopar was no longer her obligation. Fortunately for me the King's fetishes were not exclusively of a sexual nature and I was afforded much opportunity for imaginative and amusing play. He loved the outdoors as much as I and even fancied himself a woodsman. He enjoyed falling trees. Often he would have drunken competition with his guards and servants see who could log roll longer. Since he was so enamored with my delicate feet, I was forbidden from the contests.

Yet I yearned for a normal romance. While Misha worked so hard at being a statue, I bared my heart to him, sang, danced, flirted shamelessly. I imagined that he wanted me desperately, yet feared for his life. Day after day I plotted to win his affection and release him from his impervious state.

I decided that it was best to remove ourselves from prying eyes and while on a seemingly innocent walk near the stables I borrowed a horse and darted away, knowing full well that Misha would have no choice but to chase after me.

Riding full speed through the countryside I felt free and alive. I knew Misha must feel the same. I was giddy with delight and rode into a wooded area. The sunlight that trickled through the tree tops was intoxicating...

The next thing I remember was lying on the ground, with a terrible headache. Misha kneeling beside me pressing down hard on my forehead with his ripped sleeve.

"Stop it, you're hurting me!" I demanded.

"The tree hurt you. You've been knocked senseless for quite some time. Of course, in your case, it's more of being knocked silent." When I tried to sit up, Misha held me down. "You'll stay put until the bleeding stops." He chided, "How am I supposed to explain this escapade to the King? Do you want to get me thrown in prison? It's my job to keep you safe, or haven't you grasped that yet?"

I looked at him and smiled. "You have a beautiful voice."

"I must insist that you don't kill yourself on my watch," Misha said stoically.

"I was in the mood for a ride."

"Everything is about you, princess."

"Don't call me that."

"Sorry, bastard child. You're still second in line for the throne whether you choose to play the part or not. Remember, I spent nearly two weeks traveling with your mother."

"Sorry if I'm a disappointment to her," I snapped. "I'm hungry." Misha handed me his water skin. "I said I'm hungry, not thirsty."

"Perhaps if you told me ahead of time that you were planning to run away I'd have packed us a light lunch."

"You're very snide."

"And you're very impetuous."

"I want to go home," I said struggling to stand.

"I really don't think you're ready... " He sprung up and caught me before I fell back down to the ground. My head was throbbing now.

"I'll make a deal with you, princess: if you can keep quiet, I'll tell you my story."

Misha shot a forceful look at me when I went to open my mouth. He raised one eyebrow and waited...

Misha proceeded to tell me of his earliest memories being raised with the other Houseborne until the age of 5. Never knowing a father or mother, he didn't know what to expect when he was placed in Eltesnia with a foster family until he was ready to begin military academy at the age of 12. His foster father was a cold-hearted widower with three children, the youngest being a little girl still living at home.

"After military academy I was selected for training as a page. My first Eyre was well-respected in both the House and Royal Armies. He was a stout middle aged man who always smelled of cheese. My sole lesson learned from Eyre Savlii was how to keep my mouth shut. A lesson I unlearned rather quickly when my fortune changed."

"Eyre Savlii was often outraged with Eyre Nalev, who he perceived to be a young upstart pushed ahead by the High Priestess Vay. It was true that Nalev was far younger than any of the other Eyre's when the position was bestowed on them, but his skill and character were beyond question. The High Priestess had a strange way of working."

"Even though Eyre Savlii sought every opportunity to knock Nalev down they still had to fraternize. Occasionally there would be a card game that Nalev would be invited to. For a brilliant strategist he was terrible at cards and would have lost the clothes off his back if they were not military issue. We never talked much because it wasn't in my station to interact socially with the others, but we noticed each other. When Eyre Nalev found out that my Eyre was planning to release me back to the academy to be retrained as a school master, I was nearly 18 and was no longer desirable to have around as a page. Life at the academy had one major stumbling block for myself and the others: all adults on staff were eunuchs. Not that I had any say in the matter."

"Eyre Nalev, on the other hand, entered into a most interesting proposition with Eyre Savlii. He suggested a game of cards. If Nalev won, I would become his page, no questions asked. If Savlii won, Nalev would resign his position. The challenge was too good for Savlii to pass up. I dare say we were all surprised when Nalev won."

"I served at his side until the surrender at Gelassi. Since then, the only word from him was that he wanted me here in Belaurii. I fear that something terrible has befallen him. I would do anything to know what has happened." Misha confided to me.

"Communication has been impossible with Cznorh, but I will speak with King Neopar on your behalf."

"Thank you, princess."

"That's a long time to be a page."

"Companion, please," Misha insisted.

"Still, it's a long time."

"Eyre Savlii swore I'd be the end of Nalev's career. At first, we thought that was absurd. Then the fear that I really was too old to be a page and he was far to young to be an eyre started to take hold and Nalev distanced himself from me. He started meditating, legs crossed on the ground instead of sleeping, insisting that he was even more invigorated. On the third night, after watching him for some time I went and sat down facing away from him. I matched his slow breathing and sat there quietly.

"What are you doing, Misha?"

"You made such a good case for this, I thought I might try it out as well." I said.

"I'd like to be alone."

"Was it something I did wrong?"

"No, Misha."

"You're just tired of me already."

"It is hard for me to live with an equal. This space does not permit it."

"I'm your page, not your equal."

"In many ways I feel you're already a far better man than I. I hate that the situation that brought us together is also working to tear us apart."

I leaned back, touching our shoulders and I turned my face in the direction of his ear. "Come to bed, Lev. Let's get some rest."

"So it got better?"

"More or less." Misha grew quiet.

"I think I can make it back now." He held out his hand and helped me to my feet and waited until I was steady.

We rode at a snail's pace and were fortunate to make it back before dark. Ompar, who enjoyed Misha's company quite enthusiastically, was gracious enough to take Misha under his wing and the three of us became inseparable. King Neopar wasn't the boisterous buffoon that many took him for and Misha and I would soon find out, but a man fearful for his life and the kingdom he shared with Dophe, who he perceived to be his biggest threat.

2007-08-21T19:33:00.006-04:00

“Kranch!” Shrieked Naeri at Hezason who was caught in the most compromising position.

Hezason rolled quickly out of bed and fumbled for his sword. Tia pulled a robe around herself.

“Ouch!” Murmured Eburgistraten as he was trampled underfoot by two hefty evacuees in the corridor.

“What is wrong with you, Naeri!?”

“Eyre Tosdoc is dead.” Naeri engaged him in sword fight. Her apparent fury and utter contempt left no doubt in Hezason’s mind that she would kill him if given the advantage.

“What happened?”

“You dare feign concern?”

Taisia moved cautiously toward the door to call for help. Her father was on the other side, struggling to stand.

“That is quite enough, Naeri.” Eburgistraten spoke sternly.

“Eyre Tosdoc was slain in battle, while his second in command is in bed with his widow.”

“We can get to the bottom of this later.”

“No we can not!” Protested Naeri.

“Very well. What are you doing here, Hezason? And make it quick, there is an evacuation underway here.”

“I am on leave. King Olan sent word for me be on hand for a few days.”

“That does not mean..” Naeri began.

“That is enough, Naeri.” Eburgistraten motioned for her to put down her sword.

“What?!”

“That is an order. Hezason, I need you to get these two out of here, quickly. The king making is about to occur. I will deal with this situation later.”

He wanted so badly to say good bye to them, but time was running out. He watched as the three disappeared down the corridor. Eburgistraten turned and walked the other way toward the throne room.

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

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Panic Spreads Through The Palace

2007-08-21T19:31:00.005-04:00

Word spread quickly throughout the castle. The fearful seemed to erupt out of every door and window lest they be consumed by the eternal wrath of Lane. When King Erebus was joined to the High Queen in immortality, all save the young princess were annihilated that were found within the city walls. While none of the subsequent king-makings resulted in such a sweeping loss of life, they all required much sacrifice.

Eburgistraten walked the palace halls. Naeri and his good friend Hezason were on the battlefield, strange now that he would consider them safe. He was now in his family’s wing, fighting his way against the flow of panicked courtesans and servants alike. His inner sanctum was empty, for the first time. Wives and other baubles of the king were outrunning the impending disaster of the king making.

Whatever relief he felt was short-lived as he thought he saw his eldest daughter, in full battle regalia, storm into Taisia’s chamber, sword drawn.

Eburgistraten called to her, “Naeri?!”

There was no reply. Eburgistraten quickened his step and arrived near enough the door to hear the fight inside.

Send to Flight

2007-08-19T20:37:00.004-04:00

Eburgistraten knew that his plan’s success would be greatly aided if he kept his distance from his family. There were pressing needs to attend. He must get to the kitchen.

Ordinarily a prince of any tier was not in the least likely to be found in the kitchen. Eburgistraten, however, was a young man who loved wine, women and song, not to mention a good game of chance, all of which were bountiful in the kitchen. Many times he had met Vay in the servant’s quarters, when he was unable to visit her at the House of Women. On other occasions, even more plentiful, he would sample the local cuisine. His liaisons with the maids and cooks were rarely uncovered, just as he preferred. Kanabulan law stated that any prince of the tiers was entitled to claim for his inner sanctum a seemingly infinite amount of women. It also required that any woman having carnal relations with a prince to be sequestered indefinitely. This was most inconvenient to the young woman, uprooted from her existence and thrust into the perpetual company of princesses and, worst of all, courtesans. While princesses were bound by their own sense of honor and decorum, the courtesans were oft too jealous of the steady influx of Eburgistraten’s curiosities.

Eburgistraten entered the kitchen as the cooks prepared the evening meal. The winks and nods from the servants were returned only with an uncharacteristic solemnity as the prince focused his attention on a young woman with her back turned to him.

“You are dismissed. Spend the rest of the day in town.” Eburgistraten ordered.

The head cook, sensed what was about to happen and she motioned for everyone to leave with her. The prince was alone with Phaeta.

“Is it tonight, then?” Phaeta asked.

“I am to be the next king.”

“What possible reason with your cousin...”

“King Olan had him poisoned. He grew impatient for him to have daughters for the tier.”

“But that’s obscene! How could the king kill his own heir?”

“The madness.” Eburgistraten took her hands in his. “It’s the damned madness. The same that will await me someday.”

“It will not be your fate, Burgi. You have fought so long to find a way.”

“Go now, before our future is consumed by our past.”

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

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Plans and Panic

2007-08-19T20:35:00.003-04:00

King Olan’s speech to Eburgistraten was difficult to hear over the multitude of voices uttered by the High Queen. Olan himself doubted that it made sense, yet it was of little consequence to him.

“Eburgistraten, exceptional men of integrity, vision and common sense have ascended the throne immortal. You seem to possess none of these traits. But, in the end, it is all the same. Gather your children, this day you shall have your king-making.”

“King Olan, I am flattered that you should want me to sit upon the throne, but you forget about Duke...”

“He is dead.”

“King Olan, certainly you must be mistaken. I saw him only this morning.”

“Yes, well, I have only just ordered him poisoned. You see? Now, stop confusing the matter at hand. Now leave and prepare yourself for your fate.”

Eburgistraten rushed from the throne room. He was drowning in thoughts he dared not believe. Hurriedly he passed the wing that housed his family and continued on to the next.

When he reached the main room of Duke’s abode his heart stopped for a split second. Duke, his two wives and sons were seated for their meal.

“Stop!” Eburgistraten yelled.

Duke raised his cup and smiled at his cousin. “Burgi, come sit down– ” Duke’s head suddenly dropped to the table.

Eburgistraten vanished in the ensuing chaos. His time most dreaded was about to befall him. He sent word to his wives that his king-making was at once. His sole wish was that there was enough time for his plan to succeed.

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

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King Olan

2007-08-19T20:34:00.003-04:00

King Olan continued his downward ride into oblivion. He wept for seemingly no reason. He would on occasion remove all of his clothing when in the presence of a beautiful woman, in vain hope that his body would remember what it was supposed to do. In the end, he was reduced to a mere babbling of emotions and schemes. It was time to act before he spent eternity in this sad state. He needed desperately to set the next king upon the throne. The rules were clear: the oldest male of the third tier, or greater, having at least one daughter would be the successor. Duke was the oldest cousin brother, by all of twenty minutes, but he had only sons. King Olan had no choice. He dictated two notes and sent them off. One was to summon Eburgistraten to the throne room. The other was to have Duke poisoned.

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

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Naeri and Eburgistraten

2007-08-05T20:09:00.005-04:00

Five years later, two of Eburgistraten’s cousin brothers were killed in the same battle, leaving only he and Duke in line to produce daughters to continue the lineage. King Olan grew nervous—and everyone noticed. Any sign of emotion told of the king’s degeneration into the “madness immortal”. The never-ceasing war with the Dzai, the well-enumerated casualties in that dreadful cacophony of the damned, thoughts of the simple carnal pleasures of food and sleep all weighed him down. He had been king for over two hundred years and had hoped that his reign would be different. Surely he had learned from those immortal kings that begged for death to swallow them in their anguish.

At the same time Tironik was to go off to his military training in the field. Naeri insisted that she be allowed to go as well. Certainly other young women had done the same, even those will less skill and stamina than she herself possessed, but a princess? It was with great pain and ample pride that he arranged for his dear old friend Hezason, second in command under Eyre Tosdoc, to accept both Naeri and Tierney into his legion.

Eburgistraten was lonely. The direction he had for more than fifteen years was off defending their kingdom. He spent most of his days and nights wondering if Naeri was safe, roaming the palace like a lost soul. It was in such a state that King Olan found him and begged him to take a wife, actually several. Within a handful of weeks, Eburgistraten married Murel, a tall and elegant woman, the recent widow of a prominent Eyre from the great country Bilaurii to the far north. Murel had a daughter age twelve named Tia, as bright as the sun, who looked as though she would certainly need a father to defend her honor before terribly long.

Next was Svia, princess from the far-off island of Lar. Then D’Lena, Wrenia, G’leel and Extam. Eburgistraten managed to proliferate his way back into the good graces of King Olan.

When Naeri was a young woman of nineteen she had another request of her father. She had become thoroughly smitten with Hezason and insisted that a wedding be arranged. Eburgistraten knew Hezason’s feelings for his most cherished daughter, or rather the lack there of, but promised her that he would work on it.

To make matters worse for Eburgistraten, the wife of Eyre Tosdoc was one of many in their home village to succumb to a virulent ailment and perish. Kanabulan military protocol entitled any Eyre to marry an heir to the throne. Eburgistraten was the only heir to have daughters of marrying age.

Eburgistraten thought long and hard about the familial dilemma. His ultimate solution was to summon Eyre Tosdoc to a feast at the palace to discuss betrothal. Tosdoc already knew Naeri quite well and was looking for a wife of a more quiet and sympathetic demeanor. Imagine his surprise to meet Murel’s beautiful daughter Taisia at the feast. Although Taisia was not a legitimate heir to the throne, he was more than happy to live with the consequences.

Eburgistraten threw the biggest most lavish wedding celebration for Taisia and the Eyre. Then after an hour or so of marriage, Tosdoc returned dutifully to the front lines. The King hoped to use the happy occasion to announce the betrothal of Naeri and Hezason; however, the groom-to-be was nowhere to be found. As it turns out, he was locked in a servant’s quarters with Taisia.

Despite his involvement with Taisia, Hezason could not refuse Eburgistraten’s offer.

Years passed with Hezason waiting impatiently for a son. Once he had a son, he could spend less time with Naeri and more with Taisia who had already bore him a daughter named Fen.

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

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Eburgistraten Returns

2007-07-10T19:24:00.010-04:00

Eburgistraten returned, albeit defiantly with High Priestess Vay as his bride. Vay was short and squat in physique with long graying hair. She possessed a finely tuned sensuality and was a gifted interpreter; however, neither of these attributes made her accepted around the court. King Olan was on a very long list of men and women who considered the High Priestess to be a duplicitous whore. He ordered that she be removed at once because it was not prudent to bring the enemy into the palace. Eburgistraten agreed, as long as she was not already with child.

“The woman is a prostitute. What makes you think you would be the father in any event?” Olan’s voice was calm yet stern.

“First of all, Vay is High Priestess, and as such is only engaged in sanctimonious matters. Secondly, would you have me risk sending an heir...”

“Yes. All right. She shall remain here for three months, under our strict supervision. If she is not pregnant, out she goes. You will arrange for your first and most important marriage to Princess Dophe, if her father can still be bribed. The royal family was not pleased to arrive and find the groom dead and his replacement gone missing.”

Vay was in fact with child and in due time produced the most beautiful baby girl. Then she was ousted from the palace, happy to return to the House of Women. Eburgistraten employed the services of his childhood nurse maid to help him care for his daughter, the daughter he named “Naeri—fiercely loyal”.

As a child Naeri watched the soldiers in training and insisted her father teach her to sword fight. Eburgistraten was not an accomplished warrior in any respect and he sought a young playmate for her instead. His name was Tironik He was from a long line of warriors, though none particularly well-decorated. At three they played with sticks, then wooden swords. By the time they turned ten years or age they were given their first real weapons.

Eburgistraten was blissfully happy. His daughter adored him and King Olan, ever-questioning the true lineage of the girl, virtually tossed him aside. With four others in line for the tier, it was no great loss for the kingdom.

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

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"Who'll Stop the Rain?"

2007-07-09T20:16:00.004-04:00

Eburgistraten returned to his room—long enough to gather a cloak and sword. Then he vanished quietly into the dark of night.

Two days later he appeared at the palace of King Dalma to seek asylum. Unfortunately, my father was of all places, deep within Kanabulan at for the annual summit with the Dzai priesthood. Held at the House of Women, the event was designed as a week-long celebration of diversity within the Dzai community and camaraderie, usually of the orgiastic type, culminating in the Reenactment of Entrapment.

As a lad of eight I was of no help to Eburgistraten. I did persuade him to stay and showed him hospitality. In return, Eburgistraten helped me with my math assignments, for which he always seemed to have a colorful gambling analogy. As the only child of the richest kingdom in the east, I could scarcely imagine what would compel a young prince to leave his home.

Once my father returned to the palace, he and Eburgistraten were sequestered for the better part of a month. I hoped that he was granted asylum, but, as abruptly as he arrived, Eburgistraten exited my father’s private study, unaccompanied, shook my hand and gave me a broad smile. It would be years until I was privy to any details of that encounter.

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

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The Kings of Kanabulan in the Era of the High Queen

2007-07-08T21:15:00.009-04:00

King Erebus the 15^th king of his people, but the first to be joined with the High Queen Born: 1702 Kinged: 1737 Died: 2017

King Philrone

Born: 1975 Kinged: 2017 Died: 2543

King Appomex

Born: 2500 Kinged: 2543 Died: 2692

King Olan

Born: 2631 Kinged: 2692 Died: 2890

King Eburgistraten

Born: 2848 Kinged: 2890 Died:

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

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Fatal

2007-07-08T20:11:00.004-04:00

On the eve of his seventeenth birthday, Eburgistraten, along with his closest cohorts, Drezi, an older cousin brother, and Hezason involved themselves, as well as to be expected in their inebriated states, in a parlor game of chance. Hezason preferred tests of strategy and always was first out. He had lost all of his gold to Eburgistraten, as was typically the case, and turned his full attention to drinking and heckling his friends. Eburgistraten and Drezi were both about to claim victory, at least each looked sure of it, when King Olan entered the parlor with the ever-present demon the High Queen.

When not channeling the voices of war casualties and other notorious dead, the High Queen was still the most captivating vision of beauty. Years before she had taken to wearing a long dark hat and veil with feathers and jewels jutting about in a silly arrangement. There were those in the court that felt it was yet another muse to lure the wary before draining the life from them. She was actually, as those closest to her found out, showing signs of aging. Ara had been legendary in both beauty and vanity. Little by little, Ara was emerging from the hold of the Lane.

The High Queen wore a gown made of loosely hung white gauze that dipped and moved in all the most provocative places. The wise knew to keep their distance from her. Others never had the opportunity to become wise, or anything else for that matter.

Eburgistraten rolled his dice, then cheered. “Fatal!”

“How could you possibly win again?” Drezi protested. “Would you have me a pauper before my wedding day?”

“Not I cousin. The dice.” Eburgistraten smiled and collected the gold and silver coins from the floor.

King Olan tried to socialize with his guests, but was ever wary that he would be interrupted by a harrowing death count. For now, the High Queen seemed aloof. Hezason watched her, his eyes transfixed. “She comes this way.” He spoke aloud, but quietly. Eburgistraten counted his winnings.

“Who?” Asked Drezi as he stood from the floor.

Eburgistraten looked up just at the moment that Drezi bumped into the tail end of the High Queen. Drezi was dead before his body hit the floor. The young prince dropped his coins and horrific shock came over him. Hezason fell to his knees beside his friend, but there was nothing to be done.

King Olan quickly took notice of the situation and spoke calmly. “Looks as though Prince Eburgistraten will marry the princess tomorrow. Do try to get some rest. And do not show up for the ceremony suffering from the ill-affects of too much drink. We have enough troubles with the Eltesnians.”

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

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Holy War

2007-07-07T20:05:00.006-04:00

Outraged by the hubris of their enemy, the Dzai waged a holy war against Kanabulan. Every man, woman and child became both soldier and theologian as the Dzai were thrown into this next phase of their evolution as a people. The earliest members of the priesthood were uncertain as to the greater abomination: the entrapment itself or their own vain attempts to ponder the imponderables.

Many great scribes and theologians have penned lengthy accounts and analysis of the factions and iterations of the Dzai religion. I am no theologian but a king—and really more of a scholar than a king. Who better to recount how another reluctant king—both sworn enemy and trusted friend—would come to challenge over a millennia of atrocities and traditions?

Part I: TRANSGRESSIONS,
Part II: RETRIBUTIONS,
Part III: ALLIANCES,

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