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The Rose Has Thorns
Farewell
A Moment's Thought
Kaeslyn Parody
Kaeslyn - Prologue
Kaeslyn - Chapter 1
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Chapter 1
Evil.
She could sense it, feel it, taste it on the air. She took a deep breath. “It is coming,” she said to no one. She quirked an eyebrow. “For me,” she added, almost surprised.
She opened her eyes. The Asarian caravan stretched out below her window, working its way up the winding road to Castle Aidem.
She leaned out the window slightly, letting the elven part of her fully take in the taint. “I may not know you yet,” she whispered, “but you may not find me so easy to capture.”
The door behind her opened and a rotund woman entered, holding a jumble of multicolored dresses. “Come now, Kaeslyn. You’d best be dressed to meet your husband to be,” she said happily.
Kaeslyn turned and smiled softly at her nursemaid. “Dear Antara, you know that I don’t wish to marry that child. He is far too distasteful to suit me.”
Antara walked over to the large canopy bed, laying the dresses neatly across it before answering. “Little Kae, you also know not to hope for love at so young an age.” She shook her head. “Besides, with even half the life span of your elven mother, you will have time enough for that after the Prince has died of old age.”
Kaeslyn shook her head, throwing up her arms and giving in. “It is useless,” she said with a sad smile.
Antara helped Kaeslyn dress and ready herself for a formal court appearance. When they finished, Kaeslyn inspected herself in the tall mirror.
The blue gown nicely complimented her large gray eyes as well as her rather lithe figure, another characteristic inherited from her mother. Her cheeks had been reddened slightly to show off her higher cheekbones. Her hair had been tastefully done up to hide the tips of her slightly pointed ears.
She smoothed her dress, examining and taking note of every flaw to be found. “It will do,” she said finally.
When the time came, she walked slowly down the tapestry-lined hall toward the grand hall. Standing outside the doors was a handsome man similarly prepared for court. She would have guessed he was no more than his mid-forties if she had not known he was nearing his last quarter of life at seventy-five. Time had been good to her armsmaster.
“Hail, Nureth tal’Motar,” she called to him.
He turned to face her and a smile spread across his face. “Hail, my Lady Kaeslyn of Aidem,” he replied cheerfully.
When she reached him, he patted her shoulder affectionately. “So, how fares my Lady this fine day?”
She looked at him seriously. “You know very well that I have dreaded this day for as long as I have known of its approach. It is not, by any means, a ‘fine’ day.”
A servant cracked the doors open and poked his head through. “Are you ready, my Lady?”
Kaeslyn let out a long breath and glanced at Nureth, who smiled. “As much as I can ever be,” she replied solemnly.
The servant nodded knowingly and softly closed the massive door.
Nureth offered her his arm and she took it gratefully. He patted her hand reassuringly.
The doors swung open, exposing Kaeslyn and Nureth to the crowd inside. “Lady Kaeslyn of Aidem, escorted by the Armsmaster Nureth tal’Motar,” a noble voice rang through the room.
As soon as they took the first step into the room, Kaeslyn was assailed by the overwhelming presence of evil. The same that she had felt earlier, but much stronger. Whatever was causing it was now in the room with her.
She scanned the crowd for anything that could be the source, but saw only a crowd of noble men and women. Anyone of them could her enemy. Anyone could be her friend. There was no way to know.
They turned a corner on the walkway provided for them and suddenly were facing the dais. They came to a stop just at its foot and each gave a bow.
The young man standing at the right side of the dais descended and took Kaeslyn’s hand from Nureth. Kaeslyn smiled through her disgust and managed to overcome the instinct to withdraw her hand.
Kaeslyn glanced up to the top level of the dais. King Tolaan of Asaria sat in the topmost chair and looked down upon his son and soon to be daughter-in-law with a welcoming smile. Kaeslyn smiled back in spite of herself.
Kaeslyn and the Crowned Prince Revlis of Asaria turned back to the crowd and took their seats to the lower right of King Tolaan.
Her father, standing at the left side of the dais, then raised his glass and shouted “Let the celebration begin!”
The chamber orchestra promptly took up the call and lively music filled the grand hall with merriment.
If I could but partake of just a little of their joy… Kaeslyn thought. She glanced over to Revlis, who was in turn eyeing her. She shivered in disgust and turned her attention to the hastily forming mass of well-wishers and pasted on her most gracious smile.
Some time later, Revlis leaned over to Kaeslyn, brushing his shoulder length black hair across her exposed shoulder. “Just think, my darling,” he oozed. “In a mere two weeks we shall be wed. Are you not exited by the mere idea?”
Kaeslyn turned her head slightly toward him and spoke softly. “Hardly. The young are always impatient,” she replied coolly.
“You mean to say that you have not dreamt of that day since your own sixteenth birthday now three years past? Surely you must jest,” he said in mock outrage.
“My dreams are my own, and not for discussion,” she said, more sternly than she intended. Then a thought occurred to her. “Have you any bastards?”
A most evil smile spread across the prince’s face. “None as of yet, my darling, though I do toil to correct the oversight.” He sounded pleased with himself. Too pleased, to Kaeslyn’s ears.
“Although,” he added, “I have never before had an elf woman. It shall be a treasure.”
“I do not need to remind you that I am but half-elf. It is evident enough for everyone else.”
“All the more exotic, my darling.” He paused a moment, thinking. “My lady, have you any bastards?”
“I? Have you yet seen any children of mine? No? Then I must not have any… must I,” she countered with a coy smile, returning her attention to the nobles lined up before her.
A noble couple then approached the dais, cutting off any reply Revlis would have made. Kaeslyn nodded her head in greeting.
The man stepped just in front of his young wife at the base of the dais and addressed the prince. “We are Halson and Ilsana of the neighboring duchy of Falron, your highness. We are most pleased to wish you our most sincere congratulations.”
“The Lady and I thank you,” Revlis replied in a bored princely tone.
Halson then very boldly approached the prince, as Ilsana did Kaeslyn. Halson reached Revlis first, however, and Kaeslyn was able to overhear a bit of what was said.
“You need not speak for the halfling, Your Grace. Do not forget that while her human blood is in truth noble, she is tainted by the blood of the sinister elves.” He paused to watch the affect his words had on the prince, who merely stared back at him in disbelief.
By this time Ilsana had reached Kaeslyn, who now noticed the elven-hair necklace worn tight around her neck. “Though you are to be married some years after the prime, you will secure a most advantageous station.”
“It is hardly late in my life. If I am not mistaken, my elven blood assures me a span nearly four times that of yours. I shall still hold this ‘advantageous station’ when your great-grandchildren come to honor me.”
“True, Lady Kaeslyn, but only should more unfortunate ends not interfere with Nature’s plan.”
“I can but hope that it is so,” Kaeslyn replied.
Duke Halson ended his conversation with Prince Revlis and the pair retreated from the dais, back into the sea of guests.
Another form detached itself from the throng and approached Kaeslyn directly. He stopped midway and bowed deeply, his long red cloak nearly swallowing him. Slowly, he lifted his head and brushed back his cloak and long black braid. Kaeslyn’s eye was immediately caught by a flash of golden light reflected from an amulet he wore about his neck.
“Lady Kaeslyn, I am Alaman,” he said simply. It was all the introduction he needed.
Again he advanced toward Kaeslyn, his eyes fixed on her. Icy blue his eyes were, and the made her shiver to look into them. But even in his walk he did not hold coldness. He emitted an aura of fire, of ambition. And, of evil.
Kaeslyn’s senses fought the urge to gag as he reached her side. He bent over her, dangling the golden amulet in front of her. The light reflected off its fiery form as if the molded flames themselves had life.
“Please allow me to further introduce myself,” he said. Kaeslyn nodded. “I am head mage under the command of King Tolaan of Asaria. I have accompanied him here that I might aid his Highness and Mylaren’s King Caltor in preparations for the wedding.”
“Sir mage, I regret to inform you that our noble King Caltor is unable to attend due to the great rains in the center of our glorious country as well as his own ill health. He has sent a messenger, however, to convey his kindest regards. But why would you, one of such high standing, perform such menial tasks as preparing a wedding,” she asked.
Alaman looked at her as if explaining to a child. “Due to the political implications of this wedding, my Lady, we thought it best that men handle the majority of the planning. Your ladies will still have free reign with the flowers and such,” he added with a nonchalant flip of his hand.
“Then, sir mage, I shall look forward to our discussions,” she said politely.
“As will I,” he replied, just as falsely. He would surely be an interesting player in this twisted game.
He bowed to her once more and left the dais melting back into the crowd. The sense of evil left with him and Kaeslyn let out a sigh of relief.
The rest of the night went on without much excitement and Kaeslyn retired to her chambers, pleading a headache. Her lady-in-waiting was there to meet her.
“Oh, Ty,” Kaeslyn cried to her dearest friend. “What a pig Prince Revlis is!” She shook herself in disgust.
“Sounds more like Prince Revolting to me,” Tylora replied smugly.
“If only I had the pleasure of meeting him in a dark alley late one night… I’m sure that Nureth has taught me enough,” Kaeslyn said, brightening.
Tylora chuckled. “What about that red cloaked man? Who was he?”
A shiver chased down Kaeslyn’s spine. “Alaman,” she said softly. “He is Tolaan’s head mage. I have never felt anyone so vile in all my life.”
Tylora quirked an eyebrow. “How so?”
“I’m not sure. He just… was. Hmmm…” Kaeslyn walked slowly across the room, forming a plan in her mind. She pulled aside the corner of a wall tapestry and pulled the hidden lever she knew to be there.
The wall creaked and a block three stones by three stones slowly swung inward.
“The old tunnels,” Tylora queried. “We haven’t used those since we were children. What are you planning, Kae?”
Kaeslyn shot her a devious grin, then changed to seriousness. “I just want to know what he is up to. A hunch I have…” Kaeslyn shook her head, clearing her thoughts. “Are you with me?”
“Aren’t I always,” was the quick reply. Tylora smiled wryly and joined Kaeslyn next to the entrance. “After you, my Lady.”
Kaeslyn nodded with her own smile and gingerly stepped into the dark, damp passageway. Tylora stepped through a moment later, stooping her tall frame to avoid the dirt and cobweb encrusted ceiling.
Kaeslyn paused, looking around worriedly. She felt an overwhelming urgency need to find Alaman. She must find out what he is up to.
She closed her eyes, letting her elven senses detect his evil. “This way,” she whispered.
Tylora followed on her heels as Kaeslyn led them down the long forgotten passages of the ancient castle. It did not take her long to realize where her senses were leading her.
They reached the wall behind the library in minutes, Even before they came fully upon it they could hear voices. Kaeslyn immediately recognized that of Alaman.
“You fool,” his deep voice boomed, “kill her now it will all have been in vain! I will not let you waste my months of planning.”
A second voice offered meek protest, but was too muffled by the stones to understand.
“Enough! No more excuses,” he raved. “You have your archers ready for the wedding. No one will take the halfling’s life until I give the command. This Sha’talme can only be removed if it is done with discipline and precision.”
Kaeslyn jumped as Tylora touched her shoulder. Her friend’s normally tan face was ashen as she motioned for Kaeslyn to move back down the passage.
Once they were safely beyond the library, the two fairly ran through the tunnels in their dismay.
How could they think that she of all people was the Peacebringer? She was no leader of men, no hero to be admired. Her thoughts raced faster than her legs.
But it made sense. It could be said that she ‘joined elf and human as one’ in her own body. And she was definitely considered low among her the rest of the nobility.
Could those long forgotten texts be describing her?
Assassins. The thought would not leave Kaeslyn’s mind. He had come for her. |
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