Mixupland Dating

This is how Mixupland Dates work:
Most of the stories happen 800 something AGF which is "After the Glorious Founders". This dating starts from when the founders landed on the shores of Mixupland as year 1. From the release of the demons until the arrival of the founders dates are YDE for "Years the Demons have Eaten". The year the demons were released is year 1. Before that it goes backwards like BC and the dates are TOG for "Time of the Old God". The number in parenthesis next to the stories is the date the story takes place. At some point I might make a timeline.

Taken by the Wind: Chapter I

            The spirits of those in the Capitol of Orangeland, Artaria, were high. The Wine flowed freely and the feast was raging. It had been 60 years since the Ovic Wars. The southern Lands had reached a peace accord and held a feast to celebrate every 5 years. The celebrations were legendary and many from all over the continent came to join in the festivities. Feasting lasted 3 whole days. Jehu, heir to the Brownlandese throne, was one of the few in attendance that was not happy. He had finally evaded the flock of boys who called themselves his "friends." Jehu enjoyed the company of 5 of these boys but everyone else seemed to want to hangout with him because he was heir to the throne. Because of this he resented them. Jehu strolled in the massive gardens of Orangeland, thankful that finally he was alone.

             Alas, this did not last for long, he spotted a bright head of long fiery hair reflected in the pool of Thramgar the Great. Jehu approached the girl, she pretended to take no notice. Jehu, seeing her hair guessed, correctly, that she was from Orangeland. Her dressed was made from the finest silk which menat she must be from royalty.

           "ahem, Princess Emily of Orangeland?" Jehu said.

           "Jehu of Brownland, my friends call me Emi, you can call me Emily" she retorted rather boldly,

           "Hey Jehu!" crowed some of Jehu's "friends"

Jehu was not in the mood for his friends to interrupt his introduction to Emily. He turned around hurriedly to make the boys disperse. Then, all of a sudden, he couldn't stand up straight, he felt woozy, he collapsed to the ground as three hooded figures emerged from the bushes. Then, he passed out.

   

Elgaboth, the Kidnapping: Chapter 1

A scream rent the night, the last act of a dying man before his air was cut off forever. no friendly ear would have marked his passing had not fate conspired. Years ago a soldier, staying in the Satum's garrison had slammed his fellow into a certain wind which could never afterwards be closed completely. It was due to this circumstance that despite a very cold fall evening a window in what had long since become the boy's dormitory was open.

Kurt was a light sleeper and could go from unconsciousness to full alertness in a matter of seconds so he heard the scream. Not that he had any idea of what the sound signified but it pulled him out of his dreams and into his bed. Some sixth sense compelled him to glance out the window.

Panic and fear flowed through his veins as he saw the dark shapes climbing down the inside of the wall. In a few seconds they were displaced, if not replaced, by a surge of adrenaline. He had only two thoughts, first to warn everyone and second to find and protect his sister and... Lucy.

There was nothing he could do that would stop the attack, but never the less he started yelling. Few people could hear his actual words but it roused them. And by that time they could smell the smoke. The attackers, possibly having studied the methods of beekeepers, had lit a fire on the right side of the building.

Kurt's mind quickly processed the meaning of the smoke and he instinctively moved left. He, however, stopped a few seconds later. His father's words came back to him, well not the words but the general idea. If the enemy wants you to go one way, go the other. It was obvious which way they wanted him to go, it was the way he, himself, wanted. But instead he slowly moved to his right. The smoke thickened but he kept moving and finally made it to a window.

The fire was much smaller than the smoke had led him to believe and looking out the window he thought he could clear it. He jumped.

In his short life Kurt had never com really close to death. It is not the par of a rich Lords to dance with demons. But that night he came within centimeters of it. The flames licked him as he flew but somehow they could not catch hold of him or pull him into their blistering oblivion.

He hit the ground hard and instinctively rolled forward. There was a sharp pain in his ankle but he forced himself to ignore it as the one man left to guard the fire was in pursuit.

The main building  included the classrooms as well as the girl's dormitories. Once it had housed twenty kings and their retinues. Now it held at least that many princesses. It loomed ahead of him in all its imposing Majesty.

Kurt was fast but the pain in his ankle and his assailant's speed conspired to force a confrontation. He knew that if he didn't turn soon he would be attacked from behind so he spun on his heel and struck out with his fist at the same moment. The element of surprise was enough to sway the first moments of the fight to his advantage. The initial blow pushed him off balance and Kurt took full advantage of that, throwing himself at the man. It was only then that Kurt noticed the other figure.

The man’s hair was so blond it was almost white, even lighter than Lucy or John’s hair. He wore a thin mustache and his face was even thinner. His clothes were the same as those his men wore but no one could doubt that he was to be obeyed. He leaned his face close to Kurt and one of the men forced Kurt’s head up with the hilt of a sword only then did Kurt notice that he had mismatched eyes. One was very Light blue and the other was so dark that Kurt couldn’t locate the pupil.

“I know your father,” His voice came as a low whisper. Kurt’s body shook slightly as if a force beyond himself compelled his actions, “And I don’t mean that in a good way.” His hand went to a thin scar on his cheek.

Kurt wanted to spit in his face, that was what his father or brother would have done but his mouth was strangely bereft of saliva. There was a presence about the man that made even breathing difficult.

“So you’re not going to beg for your life?”

That thought had entered Kurt’s head but he knew instinctively that with a man like this it would do no good.

“Good, you really are your father’s son.” He stood and started to leave but then turned offered Kurt an ironic smile. “Of course he would have spit in my face by now.”

White hot rag engulfed Kurt but he held it in and pretended that he was still immobilized by the man's powerful stare. The man holding him took about a minute to shake off that hold. Then one rushed off after his master and the other jerked Kurt upright. Kurt didn't wait. He catapulted his whole body upwards catching the man's jaw with the top of his head. Then he ran, the anger dulling the pain in his ankle.

He slowed when he came close to the girl's dormitory and threw himself behind a bush. He watched as the girls were dragged out screaming, often in their night clothes. But he didn't move. There was no way he could fight all of them and he had to find Cassie. A hand covered his mouth and a surge of terror shot through him. He struggled silently until his assailant hissed in his ear.

"Eh, It's me, John."

Kurt turned and found himself staring into his friend's ice blue eyes.

"We find the girls?"

Kurt nodded though he knew for John there was only one girl.

"If we climb the west side we can get in their window. Maybe they're still there."

"You've thought about this have you?" whispered Kurt smiling.

John gave him a questioning look.

"How to get into the girl's dormitory."

John gave him a thin smile and shook his head. It was a lifelong goal of Kurt’s to instill a sense of humor into his icy friend.

They were silent and swift as they circled the building to the back. They decided that John would climb because of Kurt's ankle. There was plenty of Ivy and John pulled himself to the third floor like a spider and disappeared through a third floor window.

It seemed like an eternity for Kurt trying to ignore the now nearly unbearable pain in his ankle. The fire continued to consume the boy's dorm and dark shapes showed up against the flames, small struggles won and lost. Something fell to the right of him and he jumped.

He looked up and saw that John seemed to have tied a series of sheets together to make a rope. He considered making a joke about elopements but it was soon forgotten as he saw a cloaked female figure crawl out of the window and lower herself using the sheet rope. This took about three minutes and Kurt met her at the bottom. 

"Kurt," The voice was Judy's and disappointment threatened to drown him. He reminded himself that Judy was a princess of the realm his oaths to the king bound him to her, more than that she was his friend and he wanted her safe.

Another female figure climbed down the sheer wall. He waited again, breathless. Anna dropped into his arms and sent agony through his ankle but for the moment he didn't care. Anna hugged him tightly. They had been friends since childhood and she was almost a sister to him.

"They took them." She whispered, close to tears.

Terror flooded back into Kurt's body. "Cassie and Lucy?"

Anna only nodded.

"We need to get to the forest." said John sliding down beside them.

Kurt barely heard him. His blood was up and he was considering the possibility of running straight into the mist of the black clothed men. John saw what was in his friends mind and grabbed his shoulder.

"No Kurt."

Kurt nodded grudgingly as another wave of pain brought him back to reality. Limping he followed John and the two girls towards the forest. By the time they reached it he was leaning heavily on Anna for support.

"The wall is shorter over there," Anna pointed. "Maybe we can get out."

John nodded and they proceeded as quietly as possible through the trees.

The wall was in fact shorter. It had fallen down over the years and now it stood over them, only about ten feet all told.

John wasted no time; he gave Kurt a few short orders. They picked up Judy and she scrambled onto the top of the wall. Judy's golden head disappeared over the crumbled wall and they heard a plop as she reached the other side. The boys lifted Anna to the top of the wall where she perched to help with their accent. It was then that the difficulties began. Their flight up till then he'd been accomplished with almost surreal ease but now Kurt's wounded ankle began to tell. Kurt was not above average height but well-muscled and therefore he weighted a fair amount. John was only a few inches taller than his friend and a good deal thinner. With his ankle Kurt wouldn't climb up last so it was left for John to boost him over or try to. Hon could barely lift Kurt and not without intense pain in his ankle. They made three attempts and each time ended with Kurt sitting with his back to the wall desperately trying to breathe. Judy called something over the wall, her voice thick with terror. And they started hearing the shouts and footsteps of the men who were beginning to make a search of the forest.

After the third attempt Kurt grabbed John's shoulders and gave a few forceful words. John nodded reluctantly and pulled himself with Anna's help atop the wall. He eased himself down the other side. When he was safely on the other side Anna's face hardened and she slid back down to stand next to Kurt who had passed out.

John yelled over the wall. "What are you doing?

 "I'm not leaving him unconscious for them to pick up."

"Anna, I can't just…"

"There is nothing else you can do. Go get help. Run."

She heard the two sets of footsteps recede hesitantly at first then faster as they began to run.

Elgaboth, the Kidnaping: Prologue

A century ago the prospect of laying siege to the Satume would have been a formidable one but now it was all too easy. Then hundreds of soldiers would have been garrisoned, every crack in the twenty meter high wall vigilantly patched, every gate barred with steel. But time and relative peace had conspired to soften these defenses.

Now the former fort was guarded by a handful of sentries with all the urgency of a snake sunning itself on a warm afternoon. The walls had long ago been surrendered to ivy and the gates were slowly losing the fight against rot and rust.

Once the taking of the Satume would have been a challenge for a man like Aporum. It would have been a test of his mind and manhood. Strength pitted against strength and mind against mind but now it would be easy and quick. The Satum was surrounded as a leaf carried softly in the wind is caught in an instant by leaping flames. And Apocrum was determined that the Satum would fall, burn, and surrender to him the heart of more than one nation.

Scared Hands: part 1

The grass was gray. Trimmed to perfection, it was still the color of a thundercloud. Other that the grass, though the scene was perfect. A crystal clear river flowed slowly past and the sky was sapphire blue.

In the center of the river a small wooden boat rocked gently. Inside sat a girl and a boy. The girl couldn’t be more than twelve but there was no denying that she was beautiful. Dark curls framed creamy skin and perfect lips. And there were her eyes. Her eyes were large and as green as the grass should have been. Those eyes had gotten her in trouble before. Green is not a healthy they said. The boy’s bright blue eyes seemed less an offence.

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” said the girl whose name happened to be Angela.

“I’m not complaining” Jack, the boy, was grinning.

The side of the boat hid Angela’s kick. “Just give it to me.”

“What if I don’t give it to you so we can stay out longer?” Jack, still grinning, suggested.

“Then I’d row back to shore.” Said Angela through a manufactured smile.

“No you wouldn’t,” said Jack his grin still in place. “Your parents are counting on us. Oh, and tell Jordan I’ll have his book back by next week.”

Angela’s smile slipped. “Jordan’s gone.”

“What? How? When?”

“The SIF took him out of school yesterday.” Said Angela her fake smile wiped clean.

Jack just stared at her.

“Smile, if we don’t get this information to my parents they won’t be able to do anything.”

Jack smiled again but this time his grin, too, was fake. Silently he passed her a wrapped package and she hugged him for the benefit of any one watching. Jack rowed to the west bank and Angela got out. They made a show of hugging goodbye. As his head passed her ear he whispered.

“I’m Sorry.”

Angela watched Jack row to the other side. Then turned toward the gate holding the package Jack had slipped her. She didn’t need to worry about him; he wasn’t carrying anything. He had nothing to fear from the gate on his side.

“You guna open that?” sneered a guard who’s face, Angela felt, was one of those which really should qualify him for duty in a dungeon somewhere.

Angela looked at him innocently. “Not ‘til I get home.”

“Interesting, and what will be inside I wonder?”

“What?” Angela’s perfect brows knit in apparent consternation.

“I want to see it.”

Angela had long ago learned to call tears at will she did so now. “What did I do?” She sobbed.

The guard, however lacking in intelligence, had full measure of steadfastness. He snatched the package. Angela winced as the bright paper ripped. Then the guard stood holding a wooden bear.  He sneered again, obviously disappointed and knocked on the side to see if it was hollow. It wasn’t. He threw the bear at her. She sighed inwardly as he gave her a dismissive wave. It was hard not to run but that was a sure way to attract attention. .

She walked calmly through the gray circular houses. They varied in size but not much else. Beside her men walked with their eyes straight ahead and women walked with their eyes on the ground. The men wore black and the women wore gray. No one looked around no-one really saw anything. They had made sure there was nothing to see. Her house was the same as the others, at least on the outside.

She pulled open the door and closed her green eyes. Her mother and father were sitting on the black couch. Across from them, furiously scribbling on a note pad was a reporter.

“We had no idea.” Said Angela’s mother, her brown eyes filling with tears.

“I mean we knew he was with the wrong crowd. But Anarchy?” Her father’s arm was protectively around his wife’s shoulders.

The reporter heard the door and turned. “And you must be the sister. Do you have anything to say about your brother’s conviction?”

Angela froze. “Conviction?” She had known this was coming from the moment the grey-haired men stopped in front of his classroom she had known that Jordan’s recklessness had finally caught up with him, had known that the thing all of them had feared every waking hour had come upon them. But still to hear the word in all its finality was a blow.

“Your brother was convicted of treason this morning.” Said Angela’s father gently pulling her towards him.

The reporter did not give up. “What is your initial reaction to this news?”

This time her tears were real. “I wish he had thought before he did some thing that stupid.”

“Thanks I can use that.” He winked at her his oily black mustache bobbing.

“Goodbye,” said her father firmly. His jaw muscles were tense.

“Goodbye and thank you.” The door closed before the thank you got out.

Her parents waited until he was gone and then spun to face her.

“Did you get it?” they both asked.

She handed them the bear. Her mother sighed with relief and grabbed the bear. They followed her into the dining room. Behind the table was a stuffed bookcase. Her father pushed his hand into a crevice and pushed the mechanism. The bookcase slid apart revealing a long stairway and a door at the bottom. Her father led them down and pushed open the door. Angela pulled the door closed.

The basement was the best room in the house. It was elegantly decorated with green and red; books, banned books, lined the shelves. Perhaps the most defiant feature was the open fireplace. They hated fire.

Her father took the bear and twisted the right ear five times to the left three to the right then the left foot three to the left. Finally the right ear, once, right. A minute compartment with a tiny scroll inside popped out. Her mother handed him a magnifying glass. The note was written in code but he could read it almost as readily as normal letters.

“Dragon claw.” Isaac’s features were set

Her mother’s gasp was barely audible. “This cannot be right. It must have been intercepted and changed. This can’t be what it meant to say.”

“Everything is correct. This is the message.”

“So we are just going to abandon Jordan? No help will be sent and instead they send you on this suicide mission?”

“Perhaps help for Jordan is coming from a different quarter. Would we not be the first to be suspected if he escaped?”

“And if it does where will you be?”

Isaac closed his eyes. “We choose this Ama; we swore our oaths long ago.”

“Oaths? I was not a mother then.”

“But you were a wife. This mission will not change anything for Jordan, only for me.”

“What about Angela? How will we live?”

“If I die it will look like a suicide, not treason. You will not be suspected. There are jobs you can do.”

Angela could not take the sound of their voices anymore and slipped quietly from the room.

Sins of the Fathers: Chapter 2

The train was traveling through Quazypoor at the usual time with the usual criminals, drunks and dealers riding, but it was different somehow. There were four new passengers beside the usual rough crew of ex-convicts, murderers, and warlocks. The weirdest thing was that three of them were children, twin girls, who looked about four, with blond, curly hair and scared blue eyes, and boy who looked younger with black hair and big brown eyes. The last was a cloaked figures no one saw his face; it was covered in shadow.

It was only a matter of time; someone would make a move on the children. Sure enough a drunken man with clothes that spoke of disrepair and misuse walked toward them, but as his hand shot out toward one of the girls. He found a dagger at his throat and another one tickling his back.

“They’re with me,” a husky voice came out of the cloak.

The man laughed nervously, “I was only Joking.”

“Good,” said the cloaked figure pushing the drunk away from him.

About a half hour later another man walked toward the children. This man wasn’t in the drunken stupor even if he looked just as disheveled. His name was Gus and he had some respect as a fighter among the others. The cloaked figure stood up, placing himself between Gus and the three children. Gus pulled a knife and tried to stab it in the chest of the cloaked figure, but the knife stabbed air. Gus found a dagger aimed at his throat, but he was quick. Gus ducked and tried to ram the cloaked figure. He whirled and slashed blindly at the charging man. Gus stopped running at the pain in his shoulder and clammed a hand on to stop the blood. That gave the cloaked figure the second he needed and a dagger was at Gus’s throat. Gus dropped his knife but as the dagger lowered Gus ripped the hood off. Long dark ringlets of hair fell to frame a beautiful face and large brown eyes. Every head on the train turned and soon men, taunting, laughing, had surrounded her.

Nathan had watched the whole thing, silently rooting for the cloaked figure. He was the king of the train. He had gained respect and power by being the toughest, fastest, and strongest and because he didn’t show weakness by leaving those who challenged him alive. But there were few who challenged him now; people were scared. There were many dark rumors about his past. Some said wolves raised him and others said he had come from the lands across the sea. Nathan laughed at these stories. The only people who knew his true past were long dead. Some thought it odd that he never took up with harlots, of which there were a multitude in Quazypoor, but none dared ask him why.

He watched as the men crowded around the girl. He knew too well what was next, rape and murder for the girl, worse for the children. This girl made him remember his own daughter, Kendra. But she was long dead. She had tried to save the akbo children. Akbo children were usually a product of an affair or abandoned by their parents who didn’t want the trouble. The children were left near a small volcano to starve or be burned up by the mini eruptions. Kendra had been able to get one girl out of the country but she had chosen the wrong child. The girl she saved was a daughter of the king but not of the Queen. She had been taken because she had been seen with the child. Kendra wouldn’t tell where the girl was so she was executed the next day.

Suddenly Nathan knew where the children in the train came from. He suddenly knew that this strangely calm girl in the middle of a horde of angry men was doing the same thing that his daughter had given her life for. He couldn’t let this happen, not again. He suddenly knew what he had to do. Nathan jumped in the circle of men.

“They’re with me.” He said with quiet command.

The men hesitated for a second, torn between their dark passion and the fear for their lives. Finally they all turned and went back to their seats.

“Thank you,” said the girl quietly.

“What’s your name?” asked Nathan.

“Kendra,” she said in a soft voice.

Kendra saw his eye fill with surprise and…was it pain?

“Those are akbo children.” He said.

It was a statement not a question. Kendra nodded.

“Never do this again!”

Kendra was surprised at the vehemence in his voice, but she said firmly. “As long as I am alive and there are children dying I will not stop.”

“You could die,”

“If I do it will be but a small sacrifice for the lives of so many children.” Said Kendra.

“How can you say that?” Asked Nathan, shocked at her disregard of her safety.

“The Maker is strong enough to protect me if he wishes.”

Nathan snorted, “The maker is a fairy-tale, don’t put your trust in nothingness. My daughter did and now she’s dead.”

“I’m sorry,” said Kendra softly. “But I have to do this. I was an akbo child. Condemned to die even though I had done nothing wrong. A girl saved me she got me over the border but when she went back she was killed.”

“ What was her name?” Nathan’s voice was horse. He wondered if it could be or if it was too crazy.

“I was name after her,” said Kendra wondering why he seemed so agitated.

Nathan sighed shakily, “I’ve wondered for eighteen years what I would do if I ever met you.”

“What do you mean?” asked Kendra very confused.

“Kendra was my daughter,” said Nathan bitterly. “At first I planned to kill you. I held you responsible for her death. Now? Now I think it would be a shame to make her death worthless.”

“I’m sorry, but she knew where she was going.” Kendra said softly.

That brought a flash of anger, “You wanna give me pointless platitudes? People hope; they never know.” There was hopelessness in Nathan’s voice. “It was your father that…”

“You know who my parents are?” though she knew her parents had abandoned her she had a hard time keeping the eagerness out of her voice.

“You don’t want to know,” said Nathan.

Kendra desperately did wanted to know but she had seen the looks of fear on the rough faces of the men on the train and did not question him further. The train rushed through the desolate scenery, towards safety for the fugitives. Slowly the other passengers on the train got off at different dilapidated station platform on their own devious business. Finally they reached the border of Lafini; they got off at the first station over the border.

            As Kendra began leading the children off the platform she looked back a Nathan’s troubled face.

            “Thank you,” She said quietly and then turned and walked down the steps.

*          *          *

            Katharine stared at the rain-splattered window she was washing; it was another gray day. But then every day was gray in Quazypoor’s dismal and imposing castle. Her trained eyes searched the room for something that needed cleaning. There was the rich carpet. She use to shudder at the design; it was a black dragon on a green black ground with a silver serpent for a crown. This was the crest of Quazypoor and was engraved on every shield, every banner, and it seemed every other place that could be found.  Not only was it was painted on the ceiling of this room and there was a tapestry that featured it on the wall and it was even woven into the bedspread.

Katharine finally saw something that needed cleaning; the green curtains with silver snakes were very dusty and probably hadn’t been cleaned in a month. She started to take down the rods. Half way through the first one she heard footsteps in the corridor and she tried to go at it faster. Not fast enough; Prince Edles walked into his private chamber. Katherine’s only thought was to get out before he could make a move on her. She yanked the curtains down and started for the door. To late, his hand closed vice like over her wrist.

“Now which one is this?” He asked as he started to pull her veil off.

She dropped the curtains and grabbed the veil and tried to keep it on. His strength won out and the veil fell to the floor.

“You’re one I’ve never seen.” He mused.

She had seen him plenty of times but then she had never come close enough for him to take her veil.

“I’ve been needing a distraction. Let’s test your stuff.”

“Please no,” she pleaded her green eyes full of fear.

Edles’s brow furrowed “Any other maid would think it an honor to entertain me.”

Katharine closed her eyes. Would he rape her?

His dark eyes searched her for a moment. “I’ve never raped a woman, but then again I’ve never been refused.”

Katharine kept her eyes down hoping that he would let go of her wrist. He didn’t; using his free hand he lifted up her chin and looked into her eyes. She noticed, almost against her will, that his face was handsome framed with dark hair.

“Why won’t you entertain me?” He asked.

“I’ll keep my honor.” She answered as firmly as she could.

He uttered a cold laugh. “Honor, I can’t think of one person in this whole castle who has even a shred of honor left.” He looked at her again. “Go! Go before I change my mind.”

She picked up the curtains and started out of the room. At the door she paused and turned.

“My Lord.”

Edles looked at her his dark eyes narrowing.

“You have a some,”

“Some what?”

“Honor,” and she was gone.

Edles moodily through himself onto the bed.

“My lord?” said a gruff voice.

Edles jumped and looked at his bodyguard. He had forgotten that Shadrik would show up eventually.

“She refused me.” Said Edles half to himself.

“My Lord?” asked Shadrak, confused.

“She was nothing more than a maid and she still refused me.”

“You can have any woman you want, my lord.”

“hmmmmm,” said Edles.

“I could tell your sister and the maid would be dead by morning.” Suggested Shadrik.

“No!” said Edles sitting up quickly, “No,” he said more quietly as he lay back down.

“I could call for another maid.” Suggested Shadrik helpfully.

“No,” said Edles quietly. “Leave me. I want to sleep”

Shadrik did leave, but Edles did not sleep. He spent a long time staring at the black dragon on the ceiling.

*          *          *

By the time Katharine got to the washroom she was sobbing. She kept crying as she scrubbed the curtains. Soon she heard footsteps at the door and spun around. It was Cera.

“Child what’s da matda?” she asked. Suddenly understanding filled her face. “Oh Child were ya?”

She left the sentence unfinished, but thy both knew what she meant. “No, but it was close, so close.”

Cera look very relived and she let Katharine cry for a few minutes before speaking. “Ya know wha I di.” She said simply.

Katharine’s eyes flicked up to Cera face; the left half was badly scared. The Iron that she had held to her face had done its work well.

“We live in a den o lions; a woman mus choose betwin her beauty an her honor.”

“I wish I had your courage.” Said Katharine twisting a lock of long light brown hair.

“Ya will find yar courage.”

*          *          *

Cassie looked wildly around as the doorknob turned; at the last moment she dived under the bed. The space was very dusty but otherwise empty. Cassie heard footsteps coming in and saw four sets of feet come through the door.

“You weren’t in there for very long. How did it go?” Came Lady Gonda’s shrill voice.

“As well as can be expected. The queen, of, course poses a significant threat to our plans but I am confident that she can be over come.” The duke was speaking, contempt in his voice.

“I want something made clear,” Sir Rogus’ blustering voice said. “Who exactly is paying us for this? You told me we would be well paid but by who.”

“By the queen of Quazypoor.” It was Sir Belgun.

The effect of the words was immediate. Lady Gonda gasped and dropped her glass, Duke Gonda’s feet that had been resting on a stool crashed to the floor, and Lord Rogus spit out his wine.

“How could you have contact with her?” Asked Gonda in a small voice.

“I never had contact with the current queen but with her mother.” Said Sir Belgun with cold disregard for the nerve his words had struck. “She spoke with me on several occasions, but the last time was different. She said that a time was coming, coming very soon that the crown of all three nations would be up for grabs and that the only country with an obvious heir was Lafni. She told me that she would leave instructions to her daughter, who would claim the queenship and if Cassandra married Fredrick then I would be well rewarded.”

“She knew?” said Lady Gonda, shocked.

“Has it occurred to you that she only wanted Fredrick king so it would be easier for her daughter to conquer Goianda. Is it not possible that she has left no such instructions to her daughter or that Sapphira will not honor them.” Asked the duke astutely, at least for him it was astute.

“Of course I have, but with Fredrick on the throne and the lady Cassandra tied up controlling his more vile behaviors, the channel will be open for us to assume control.” Said Belgun coldly.

Cassie wanted to cry. She realized that her father had sheltered her from the malicious intents of his nobles. Her father had always been in complete control but with him gone there was an open line of fire and she was the bull’s eye. Cassie realized that if she wanted to keep her freedom she had to get out of this castle. There were only three people in the castle she was sure she could trust. When she left her mother needed to be able to truthfully say that she did not know where Cassie was, and her old nurse was almost deaf and couldn’t walk farther than a few meters. The only person to go to was Zeth.

The first thing to do was to get out of this room. Cassie looked desperately around. Suddenly she almost laughed out loud; this was the room her old tutor had lived in for the short time he had taught her. He had been incredibly superstitious, not to mention boring. She had convinced that the palace was haunted and at night crawled into the secret passage under his bed to make bumping noises. Cassie’s fingers felt the woodwork for the latch. There! She unlocked it as quietly as she could and slowly lifted the trap door.

“Dear, do you hear anything?” asked Lady Gonda.

“Mice probably.” Said the Duke, sounding discussed.

Cassie inched into the tunnel. She slowly closed the door and crawled, leaving the talk of mice far behind.

*          *          *

Sam’s headache was back. After more than a few hours of debates, speeches, and a lot of fists banging on the table Sam had realized that many of his nobles very little about war. His most valuable lords were the ones who care enough about their individual regions to actually do the hands on ruling, and that meant that they did not live in his castle. The meeting had finally ended.

“What do you want written?”

“What?” Sam turned irritable toward the servant at his elbow.

“On your father’s tomb, what do you want written?”

“Like what?”

“Beloved husband and father?” suggested the servant rather timidly.

“Write: He was a great King.”

“What about…”

Sam cut him off, “Just do it!”

“Yes sir.” The servant walked away quickly.

Sam needed to talk to his father’s general; Henry had fought for Sam’s grandfather and Sam wanted his advice. After some searching Sam saw him heading out of the room. Sam quickly followed him and had soon caught him up.

“Henry, I wanted to talk to you.” Said Sam as soon as they were astride.

“Oh, Sam, I’m sorry but I need to see if Kendra is back.” Said Henry glancing worriedly at Sam.

“Back? Don’t tell me she went to Quazypoor again.” Said Sam.

Henry nodded. “She was going to get back before the funeral.”

The pain in Sam’s head seemed to double.

“Walk with me. Well we have a bout a hundred men garrisoned here and we could have twice that number in three days.” Henry said distractedly.

“Too few,” Sam said half to himself.

“We could have another hundred in two weeks, but we don’t have that long.” Henry replied.

“She has twice those numbers.”

“Yes but we have these walls. We must hold her back and out last her.”

They finally reached Henry’s Apartments. As they walked in Henry sigh deeply.

“What?” Asked Sam confused.

Henry pointed at a dark cloak hanging on the silver stand. Sam understood; it was Kendra’s cloak. She was home. They walked into the sitting room. There was Kendra, talking animatedly with her shocked looking adoptive mother. As soon as she saw them she jumped up and hugged her Father.

“She took the train.” Said Henry’s wife in a weak voice.

Henry and Sam gave discussed sighs and Sam rested his aching head in his hand.

“The coach from Goianda didn’t come. So what else could I do?” Said Kendra defensively.

“Walk!” Said Sam.

“Wait for the coach, even if it takes weeks!” Said Henry.

“I’ll be sure to do that tomorrow.” Said Kendra, smiling.

“Tomorrow?” Asked Henry and Sam together.

“I’m going back.” Kendra replied.

Sam looked like he wanted to say something but he simple shook he head and mumbled something about it being late as he began to walk out. Kendra followed him to the hall.

“Sam?”

Sam turned around “I have so much to worry about, why do you have to add to it?”

“Sam, ple…”

“If war breaks out while you ‘re there what then? Have you though about that? I can do nothing if you are caught after the diplomats are pulled out. What do y…”

“Sam, I go there and I see little people being killed. They’re bodies might be a little smaller than ours, their brains a little less developed, but does that make them any less human? They’re people, Sam. They’re people and they’re dying every day.”

“Kendra.” Sam looked hard at her.

“Sam, remember what happened when your great grand father was king? Remember how the king of Quazypoor was killing all the people that came from Atual? Remember how your great grandfather stopped it, and how the people cheered “never again”? But it always happens again. It’s happening now, under a different veil, under a different name, but it’s happening. Well,” Kendra sighed. “You need sleep, it’s been a long day.”  She half turned. “Oh, and Sam, I’m sorry I wasn’t there this morning.”

Sam slowly rubbed his neck as he walked towards his room. Kendra was leaving the next day and he, king of an entire country, could do nothing to keep her safe. But that was Kendra, hard headed, Idealistic, always going on about some injustice, and beautiful, so beautiful. He wanted to put his fist through a wall. Finally he reached the room he had used for his entire life. This would be his last night there. Noises came from inside his room. Idly he wondered if a maid was cleaning. He opened the door; there was Ana. On the bed were three children, probably children of servants. Ana was always playing with their babies.

“Ana, Kendra went to Qazypoor.” Said Sam.

Ana just nodded.

“You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?” his eyes swept the blonde twins and dark haired boy. The realization of who they were stuck him forcefully.

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Hey!” Said Sam. The little boy had started banging two model boats together. “Those are expensive!”

Ana smiled. “You broke enough when you were his age, and father had them all fixed.”

There was a slight catch in her face when she said father and in a second she was in tears as memories flooded back. In a few strides Sam was there, holding her, giving her strength.

“Anny, wha’s wong?” Said a little blonde girl, her eyes wide.

“I have to go.” Said Ana looking at Sam. She picked up the little girl and beckoning to the others.

When she was gone Sam blew out the candles. He lay down, one last time, on his bed, and gave in to the tears that he had held back that whole horrible day.

The next day Kendra was really gone. Sam’s day was filled with more war meetings and was only marked by the moving of his things to his parent’s old room and the departure of the Quazypoor diplomats. Sam hated to do it with Kendra still gone but concern for their safety led him to bring back his own diplomats from Quazypoor.

That morning Ana woke up and wondered how she would be strong enough to care for the children. But as she helped the kids who had lost their parents too, she found she could smile and even laugh again. And though they could not take her pain away, when she was with them it seemed less, and slowly, slowly she began to heal.

Sin of the Fathers: Chapter 1

It had been four days since the bomb, set by an anarchist, had killed her father and the other kings and their wives. Now she sat by her mother’s bed and waited for her to wake again. Her mother had a concussion, several broken ribs, and a broken arm and leg. At first she had been too shocked and upset, but now she began to think about what would happen to the kingdom. She was the king’s only child. Would she be Queen? Her father had taught her a lot about ruling, but was she ready? Who else was there? She soon came to the cold realization that there was no one else. Only her cousin Fred, but he had a drinking problem and he was known for his violent character. No, she had to rule, for her father, for everything he had believed in. She had to be strong for her mother and for the people, no, for her people.

Her mother began to stir and she called for the doctor. “Mom, Mom.” She said hoping that her mother would finally wake.

“Cassie?” her mother sighed. “Where is your father? No, I know he was in the explosion.”

“He’s not coming back,” Her mother signed at this. Cassandra wondered what she was thinking. They were starting a new life, life without the king, life without her father. She didn’t know which was more frightening.

“She is finally awake.” Said the doctor walking to the white hospital room.

During the medical exams Cassandra wondered how she could bring up the subject of ruling. Finally after the doctor was done, she asked her mother simply, “Will I be Queen now?”

“Yes,” her mother said quickly. “We must do this. To save the country you must have the crown.”

*          *          *

Tears stung Anastasia’s eyes as she stood by her parents’ fresh graves. The service was over but she didn’t want to leave. She pulled her black cloak around her more tightly as her brother put his arm around her. So many eyes, the guards, the passer-bys come to see their king buried; she couldn’t even cry in private. She didn’t want to cry in front of her people, but the tears slid down her face and wet her long, blond braids. Her brother, now the king, led her slowly back towards the palace. Her black silk dress rustled as she walked, and she looked back at the grave covered with flowers. The massive seas of flowers stretched five yards from where her parents were buried and more had been littered in front of the castle. She stopped suddenly unable to keep going.

“Come on Ana,” whispered Sam, her brother. “We can’t stay here.”

She knew he was right and kept going even though with every step she left her childhood farther behind. Sam gently escorted her to her chambers. She lay on her bed sobbing for a while until she finally fell asleep.

Sam left his crying sister and began to prepare for another funeral. His head ached, he was exhausted and emotionally drained from his parents’ funeral but he knew that whoever was ruling Quazypoor must not be offended. He donned a black robe, a silver crown and a steel sword with a silver hilt.

As soon as he walked back out to the royal burial ground, sitting right on the border of the two lands, he saw the stark contrast between the two fresh graves. His father’s was littered with flowers, people still standing in line to pay respects. Only a few feet away was the grave of another king, a cruel king, the kind of man who would use women, who would spend the people’s money on himself. He looked at the grave totally devoid of flowers; no subjects mourned this death.

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the royal procession and her. Even after all this time her beauty still went to his head, but he would never be made her slave again. She stopped and looked at him. Long, long ago he had learned how to hide his inner turmoil behind a mask, and he was glad for this now. She stopped and her litter was let down. Everyone in her procession bowed. Seeing his guards did not he snapped his fingers. Obviously loathed to do so yet unbendingly loyal to their king they all went down on one knee. He made a cold bow and the procession moved on.

The service for the king moved quickly. There were very few people who cared for his death. The queen’s service went on a little longer, there were still those who remembered her as she had been before her husband broke her heart and changed her to a cold, cruel, and rigid person. In fact it seemed that the only one truly grieving for the king was his son. Sam looked him over. The prince was about five ten, muscular, with black hair and brown eyes. You could see the pain on his face. Not everything Sam had heard about him was good though. He was a reckless chariot driver, and his servants didn’t have very easy lives.

Alarm bells went off in his head as he saw her walking toward him. “Samuel, the king. Well you look handsome. Have you thought about us?”

“The only us there ever was ended two years ago.” He said fighting to remain cool.

“You will regret that. We would have had all the power.” her voice was like a dagger of ice. “But now I will have it all. After I win the war that is.”

“War?” Sam asked shocked.

“Yes, this could have been so easy.” She sneered, “Now men will have to die and I will have both kingdoms anyway. I am already the Queen of Quazypoor.”

“What about your brother? Shouldn’t he be king?” Sam asked. Grasping at straws while covering his shock under the mask he had become so skilled at creating.

“Edles? That spineless excuse for a prince? Sammy, you know me better than that. Can you honestly believe that I will be challenged by Him?” Her words were spiteful.

Suddenly Sam realized that being king would be more difficult than he, or even his father had ever thought. Sam left; he needed to think it over and make preparations. Sam and his guards walked through the first gate. looking up he recognized the wall guard as William, one of the few friends he and Ana had had as children. He waved.

“Hey Sam,” Will yelled down. “How did it go?”

Sam shook his head. Will immediately understood. It hadn’t gone well and Sam couldn’t talk about it now. Will knew that when his shift was over he would have to go ask Sam about it. He had to support his friend no matter how uncomfortable he felt around Ana.

Sam walked past the beautiful gardens and orchards, hardly seeing them. The giant gates of the second wall opened slowly and the portcullis was lifted. Sam walked through the limestone arch dismissed his guard to their barracks behind the castle. Seeing a boy walking past he sent him off to tell the lords and generals to come to a council in two hours.

Sam walked into the room that he had been his since he was a little boy. He ran his fingers over the model boats on the stuffed bookcases. He stepped on the familiar blue carpet as his eye passed over the oak dresser, the closet, and the desk. He had expected to live in this room for maybe thirty more years. Tomorrow he would move to the room of the king, the room that his parents had lived in. At nineteen he would take on the responsibility of running a nation and, even more daunting, the responsibility of a nation at war.

Sam sat down on the edge of his bed and held his aching head in his hands. He didn’t hear the door open or his sister’s steps as she came in. He looked up quickly as she put her hand on his shoulder. Ana’s eyes were red from crying, and her hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed but the hopelessness that had been in her eyes had been replaced by a determination, so strong it could overcome mountains.

“You should have told me where you were going. I would have come too.” She said softly.

He smiled at her, “Why do you think I kept it from you? I didn’t want to put you through that.” His smile quickly faded as he remembered Sapphira’s threats. “Ana, I think we maybe on the verge of war. Sapphira said if I don’t marry her,” he left the sentence unfinished and saw in Ana’s eyes that she was hurting for him. “This is all my fault if I hadn’t…”

“No,” Ana interrupted firmly. “What you did was wrong but it did not cause this. Sapphira is obsessed with power. She would want both kingdoms even if things had been different two years ago.”

Sam sighed, “I just don’t know.”

“Well I do know something. You need rest! You look horrible.” Ana said quickly.

“Oh, well, I have a council in an hour and a half.” Sam massaged his temples and wished his head would stop aching.

“I’ll wake you up. Now try to sleep.” Said Ana as she closed the wooden blinds around the room.

“I guess… but you have to wake me up.” Sighed Sam.

“Relax,” laughed Ana as she snuffed out the blue candles. “Can they start without the king?”

Ana decided to make sure Sam got enough sleep so she sat on the red silk couch and tried to read a book taken out of one of the many mahogany books that lined the hallway. After about twenty minutes Ana heard a step in the hallway. She looked up expecting to see a chambermaid but it was William.

Will gasped; his heart was going at a hundred miles an hour. It was Ana. Even though her hair was unbrushed and she was only wearing unadorned white linen she seemed more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen before. He wanted to run up to her and tell her he loved her. But he didn’t; he would never do that. Guards and princesses didn’t get together. He wished things could be simple like when they were children. He saw her red eyes and knew she had been crying. He wanted to comfort her, but then he would forget all the reasons that they could never be together.

“I…I came to see Sam.” Will stuttered.

“He wasn’t feeling well so I told him to sleep.” Said Ana quickly.

“Oh, I’ll…come back later.” Said Will as he began to walk away.

“Will,” said Ana running up beside him. “It just seems like I never see you any more.”

“Oh, yeah, um, I’ve been really busy,” Stuttered Will.

“Oh,” said Ana sadly. “Well bye then.”

“Bye,” Said Will.

All Ana could see was his swaying red hair and his worn brown boots quickly walking down the hall. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was avoiding her. Ana sighed and sat down to resume reading.

*          *          *

“What do you mean she can’t be queen?” Said Sabrina as she pounded her good fist emphatically on the marble table.

“My lady it is simple that while your daughter does have her supporters most of the people believe that our country needs a strong man to rule. Many now support her cousin.” Said the lord Rogus.

“You know why Fredrick can’t rule.” She said angrily.

“Which is why we came to the conclusion that the Lady Cassandra should, well…” Sir Belgun’s voice was apologetic.

“Marry the lord Fredrick.” Duke Gonda finished the sentence uncomfotablely.

“What,” said Sabrina. “She’s only sixteen! And Fredrick?”

“We simply believe that this would be the most… well that this would be best for the country.” Said Sir Belgun.

“Just think about it, supporters of Fredrick of your daughter united.” Said Lord Rogus his foot tapping nervously on the green tiled floor.

“All I can see in my daughter and Fredrick united.” And its not pretty Sabrina thought as soon as the words left her lips.

“We understand your desire to protect your daughter.” Said Duke Gonda trying to sound sympathetic.

“But we must think of the entire nation.”  Sir Belgun Finished fearfully.

“They’re cousins!” Said Sabrina upset now. “Our laws forbid this Union.”

“Well,” said Duke Gonda uncomfortably.

“We did a little research,” said Lord Rogus timidly as if unwilling to face the full wrath of his queen.

“And we found that they are not really first cousins.” Sir Belgun finished Quickly.

“But they share a Grandfather,” protested Sabrina.

“You’re right, but they don’t share a Grandmother. King Katon’s first wife died so he married again.” Said the Duke.

“Therefore they have the same genetic relation to each other as second cousins do.” Said Lord Rogus looking pleased with him self.

“The marriage of second cousins is discouraged but not totally outlawed.” Finished Sir Belgun proudly.

“My husband never would have wanted this for her,” said Sabrina wondering if she had any choice, any power to protect her child. Her unspoken question was immediately answered.

“We have discussed this at great length.” Lord Rogus’s usually blustering voice had a hard edge to it.

“This is what is best,” said Duke Gonda coldly.

“You do not have the power to stand in the way of the nation.” Sir Belgun’s voice was filled with ice and danger.

The meeting was over. There was nothing else to say. There were no choices. A sixteen-year-old girl would be sacrificed.

Cassie had heard every word. She was looking for an earring she had lost and saw it on the floor right next to the room where the discussion was going on. As she knelt to pick it up she heard her mother’s voice raised in anger, something she hardly ever heard. Tears sprung to her eyes as she slowly realized what they were discussing her. As she heard the meeting adjourn she ran into a small chamber on the left. She heard her mother pass and looked around. At first it looked like any unoccupied room, the mahogany furniture, the plush green rug, the rich forest green curtains. But it took only moments to realize where she was, the Duke’s personal apartments. Just as she was about to leave she heard a footstep at the door and heard the duke’s unmistakable voice.