The Flame of Wrath (29 page)

             
“Another piece to the puzzle,” the Queen whispered.

             
“What does that mean?”

             
Maven schooled her voice to show a patience which she did not feel. “It means that another expedition will need to be sent into the jungles.”

             
“Which jungles and for what purpose?”

             
Maven no longer felt like indulging the Empress. Instead, she sat quietly. Her arms were crossed over her body as she stared forward into nothingness.

             
Aurea's flames rose furiously inside her eyes. Maven was holding tightly to her secrets. It was an insubordinate fact which would usually be dealt with in the most severe form of correction. After all, Aurea could not allow those beneath her to remain too willful. And yet, the Empress knew that she could not deal with Maven in the same manner she would others. This situation was one which she knew must be handled with care. As long as Maven possessed the information she required, Maven had to be kept as an ally. Maven was of the utmost importance because inside of Maven dwelt Aurea's only connection to the druids' destruction.

             
The Empress sighed sadly. “All right, Maven,” she breathed. “I don't want to fight with you. You fought so long and so hard while you were away. I couldn't bear for you to endure that a moment longer.” She turned to look over her shoulder at the weary Queen. Her eyes glistened in the moonlight with the onset of tears. “For now, just rest. Perhaps when you are feeling stronger, I can convince you why this is so important.”

             
The young ruler turned. She went to Maven's side then gently urged the woman to rest against the bed. She pulled the blankets close to swaddle the Queen. Her lips lovingly kissed away the troubles throbbing behind Maven's temple.

             
Maven's eyes closed. A hot tear trickled down the bridge of her nose before falling with a muted thud against her pillow. The Djidjiga bloom tea was beckoning her to dream. She surrendered to it completely.

             
Without another word, the Empress slipped from Maven's room. She gently closed the doors behind her. She stood outside the doors with so many thoughts swirling throughout her mind. She sighed wearily.

             
Aurea had grown to hate sickness. She had grown to hate the stench of medicines. Even the Djidjiga bloom's entrancing scent had grown to fill her with an odd sort of revulsion. It represented the onset of death more than the fragrance of healing life.

             
The sickly soldiers lining the beds made Aurea's insides quiver with disdain. Her resentment swelled. Tentatively, she drew in a long breath. It lingered inside her lungs as she took a moment to summon her resolve.

             
The Empress donned her most empathetic expression before she turned to face the others.

             
With tenderness in her every step, she immersed herself within the infirmary. She moved to the row of beds on the left. Taking a seat at a soldier's bedside, she began her work for the night.

             
Aurea offered encouraging words to each soldier, spending time at each bedside. It was well within the reign of the witching hour before she rose to leave the triage center.

             
The Empress' eyes had dulled to a weary blue. Her flames were weak. Her head tottered forward, sending her golden curls in disarray. She gave an attendant a tired smile as the woman gushed their gratitude for her help.

             
“It was my honor to help my people,” Aurea said gently.

             
She passed through the doors as they were opened for her. It was only when they had tightly sealed at her back that her face transformed to show the truest depths of her feelings. Her eyes were wild. Her flaming eyes sparked in angry intensity. She hurried to an empty room where fresh clothes awaited her. Violently, she stripped out of her garments. She threw them to their dejection against the furthermost corner. Furiously, she thrust her hands into hot soapy water. She scrubbed bitterly at what she felt stained her skin's perfection, but as much as she scrubbed, she simply could not make herself clean. She groaned sickly. She could still smell it wafting into her senses. It permeated everything. She could not rid herself of sickness and death.

             
“Highness,” a voice called gently from beyond the door.

             
“Come,” Aurea snapped.

             
When Olivia entered the modest room, she found her Empress bathed by the light of candles and moonlight. The sight of her naked body made the young Knight blush. She quickly turned her head respectfully. As she waited patiently, she heard the brutal sounds of Aurea attacking her own skin.

             
“Are you all right, my Empress?” Olivia asked worriedly.

             
“Olivia,” Aurea said. Her voice was touched by something frantic. “I need you.”

             
Olivia hurried forward.

             
“I can still smell it,” Aurea whispered hoarsely. “It's all over me.”

             
“What is, my Liege?”

             
“Death.”

             
Aurea drew closer to the young blond. “Help me rid myself of their failure.”

             
Olivia's eyes were wide with desperation. She lifted her hands awkwardly, wondering what she could do to help.

             
The Empress searched blue eyes with her own. She waited impatiently.

             
Taking a soft plush towel, Olivia gently dabbed the skin which Aurea had attacked so fiercely. In a voice of equal gentleness, she spoke. “Highness, failure could never touch you,” she said. “You are blessed. You are Virtuous. You have brought light to your people.”

             
Aurea's shaking slowly began to subside. She drew in a deep breath then expelled both it and her innermost demons. She closed her eyes. As she stood within the moonlight, Olivia dressed her lovingly.

             
When Olivia had finished dressing the Empress, she thought Aurea resembled herself again.

             
Aurea wore a fine toga of white silk. Its beauty was nurtured by accents of spun-gold. She opened her eyes slowly. Her hand reached out. She tenderly ran her fingers across Olivia's blushing cheek.

             
Thank you, Aurea seemed to say with her eyes, but her lips did not dare. Olivia had helped her in her time of need, but it was Olivia's duty to help her. For that, the Empress thought, she should never be thanked. After all it was her obligation to serve her.

             
The Empress moved to sit against the chair sitting forlornly in the corner. It creaked under her weight. Most of her face had fallen under shadow, but her mouth was still clearly visible. “Bring the Knights to me,” she instructed.

             
“Immediately, my Empress,” Olivia said. She bowed then took her leave.

             
Soon the silence came to claim Aurea. She surrendered to it, finding that her body had no other choice.

             
The sound of footsteps against the stone floors caused Aurea to jerk her head. She blinked as she struggled to reacquaint herself with her surroundings. She was in the monastery, she reminded herself.

             
Aurea frowned. Had she nodded off?

             
The door opened to admit her worried Knights.

             
Aurea looked among the strong Knights coming to encircle her. She knew by their expectant expressions that they were awaiting her orders. “Angelos,” she said at last. “You will lead a party to escort Maven to Whispering Winds when she is safe to travel. Protect her without fail.”

             
The dark-haired knight nodded his understanding.

             
The Empress turned her gaze to the eldest of Shadow Reign siblings. “Donovan,” she continued, “you will begin planning for the next expedition to Logos.”

             
The Shadow Reign sisters gasped fearfully which garnered a sharp look for their eldest brother. They silenced themselves immediately. Quickly, they looked away with tearful eyes.

             
Donovan swallowed hard. He straightened his stance. “When would you like us to move?” he asked hoarsely.

             
“We can do nothing until we've had the opportunity to learn everything which took place under Maven's command,” Aurea thought aloud. “I don't want a repeat of this failed venture. We must be successful.”

             
“Understood.”

             
Angelos IV exchanged glances with Donovan. He beamed inwardly. He had been chosen to stay because Aurea was beginning to rely upon him as a valuable asset, but Donovan.... Donovan it would seem was expendable to her.

             
Aurea stressed the importance of her next words with a searing gaze. “I will have Logos.”

             
Together, the Knights nodded. “Your will be done.”

Chapter Ten

Verses can be banquets consumed by those too foolish to truly appreciate what they ingest or they can be cherished morsels to those who only dare to savor the true immensity of their knowledge. Sit down at Her table. Bask in the things laid out before you, but always remember: Conduct yourself as you would have Her truly see you. Are you a soul of foolish gluttony or a gentle heart humbled by being at Her table?

----Book of Wrath

********

              The morning sun filtered into her royal chamber. It shimmered against the particles of dust idly floating through the air. Slowly its touch warmed the silken lavender sheets which fell so lovingly over her romantic form.

             
She woke as an arm and leg draped itself over her. Her eyes were the harlequin fields touched by fog at daybreak. As the fog of sleep slowly evaporated from the planes of her eyes, their color began to deepen in intensity.

             
She propped herself up slowly. Her elbows supported her upper body as she looked around her bed to the tangled figures of softness braided around her. Satiny long hair splayed across the faces of sleeping angels made her smile.

             
Her eyes shifted to the scroll brought to her three days before. It bore the seal of King Angelos IV. As she thought of its message, her heart raced beneath her full breasts. He would be arriving today, she remembered. He was arriving with a gift for Whispering Winds.

             
“Good morning, Queen Maven,” she heard a sleepy voice murmur into her golden hair.

             
She smiled then turned her head to kiss the top of coppery red hair. “Good morning,” she said.

             
“Shall I fetch your breakfast, Highness?” another woman asked as she gave lazy kisses to the Queen's stomach.

             
The Queen nodded her head with a gentle smile. She watched as the women uncurled themselves from her bed and padded to their robes before leaving to retrieve her morning meal.

             
Alone in the silence of her room, she sat up. The pillows at her back supported her even as she reeled inwardly. She brought her knees up to her body, hugging them closely. Her body was shaking with anticipation.

             
He was coming today, she thought excitedly. For a little over year, she had awaited this day. And now to finally have its realization a few short hours away was almost more than she could take.

             
She hurried from her bed with a burst of energy, determined to rush toward her day.

********

              The castle was abuzz with frantic souls. Preparations were lovingly completed with special touches here and there throughout the regal home in an attempt to properly welcome one of the Empire's heroes. It was an honor to have the Knights of Virtue in one's home, but especially the leader to the Knights.

             
Trumpeters shouted his arrival. It made her heart leap from her chest to her throat. Her shoulders rose as her body grew taut with excitement. She smiled radiantly. Quickly, she waved off the attendants fussing over her. The last of her rouge was applied to her supple lips before she laughed and wriggled herself free of their collective grasp.

             
Her shaking hands bunched her deep green gown. She held its plush skirt, lifting it slightly to free her legs which spirited her down the decorated halls. She ignored the women pleading with her not to run, not to ruin meticulously combed hair, but she couldn't stop. Not when her feet had wings.

             
“Queen Maven!” they pleaded. “Please!”

             
She laughed joyously and ran faster. Her bountiful chest heaved as she lurched to a halt just outside the front castle doors. At her back winded beauties fought to compose themselves.

             
She stared with bright eyes to the procession trotting down the long road. They occasionally fell under the shadows of the majestic trees lining the road, but they were never meant for darkness. The sky blessed them warmly as they again found themselves bathed in pure light. Each step their horses took struggled to shatter her desire to seem collected. It was chipped away by every crunched hoof-step against the white pebbled road.

             
A horse of mahogany wonders stopped directly before the Queen of Whispering Winds. Angelos IV sat proudly atop its back with a smile playing across his lips. Slowly, he dipped his head in greeting. “Good day, Queen Maven,” he smiled. “I have brought a gift for you from the Empress.”

             
The horses at his back gradually came to a stop. Among their ranks a carriage was safely nestled. Its doors opened to release a hooded figure. In her hands, she carried a small locked chest.

             
The Queen walked gracefully to Angelos IV, who offered up a golden key. She accepted it then motioned for the dark-haired Knight and all his men to come inside. “Please,” she said, “come inside. Let Whispering Winds show you why we are so famous for our hospitality.”

             
The procession smiled happily.

             
Turning, the Queen motioned the hooded woman to follow her inside. She sauntered into the castle with the silent woman following closely at her back. When they had found their way into the silence of her bedchamber, she closed the doors behind them.

             
She rushed forward. Her arms wrapped themselves around a waist she soon discovered was far too thin. Into the back of the woman's hood, her tears began to fall. “Oh, Mistress,” she cried. “You're so thin!”

             
“Shh, Salem,” a voice purred.

             
Salem wept with the relief flooding her soul. “I have prayed for you each night, Mistress,” she whispered into the cowl. “I pleaded with the Sacred Mother to watch over you.”

             
“You mean the Light, correct?”

             
Salem tensed. Her arms slowly released Maven. “Yes,” she stammered nervously. “Of course, I prayed to the Virtuous Light.”

             
Maven turned to face her decoy. She raised her hands to her cloak. Gently, she unclasped it. It fell lifelessly to the floor.

             
Exposed to Salem's eyes, Maven was weary and defeated. Her eyes were flat. Her face was harshly thin. “It's all right,” she whispered. She saw the fear in Salem's eyes as she realized her mistake. “You are safe with me.”

             
Salem rushed forward, wrapping her arms around Maven again. She closed her eyes contentedly as Maven held her close. “So much has changed while you were away,” she confessed. Her voice dropped to a fearful hush. “The Empress frightens me.”

             
Maven nodded her understanding. She too closed her eyes, taking a moment to rest.

             
“What will happen now, Mistress?”

             
With a sigh, Maven gazed longingly to her bed. She was so tired. “We must take this time to gather our strengths,” she said. “I need you to restore me.”

             
“I am your humble servant always, Highness,” Salem vowed. She upturned her face to stare devotedly into Maven. She was favored with a soft smile which warmed her soul.

             
“Until I am ready, you must continue to be Lady Maven,” Maven instructed, “and I will be your attendant.”

             
Salem nodded. She tenderly guided Maven to the bed. Her fingers worked nimbly to remove her garments. She undressed the Queen in silence. As she knelt before her nude body, she felt tears rise inside her eyes. Quickly, she looked down. Her hand rose to cover her mouth as she cried.

             
“Forgive me, Highness,” she sobbed.

             
“I know,” Maven soothed. She sat down cumbersomely. Her eyes stared forward, never quite seeing the world around her. “I look quite different than you remember.”

             
Salem cried harder, hating herself for being unable to mask her worry. She could only pray that Maven did not see her reaction as revulsion. In her eyes, Maven would always be the land's most beautiful woman, but seeing her like this, pained her heart.

             
Sniffling, Salem stood. She guided Maven to lie back against the bed. She pulled fresh red sheets over her body then sat at her side. Her fingers smoothed along soft blond hair. “Sleep, my Queen,” she whispered. “You are home. You have finally returned to us.”

             
Maven's lashes danced closed. She breathed the familiar scents of home, heard the trusted breathing of her nurturing confidant. “Home,” she murmured into her pillow. “I am home.”

********

              Molded by Salem's loving hands, Maven found herself returning to her former self with each passing day. And yet as Salem studied the eyes staring longingly outside the windows, she saw that no matter how she mended Maven's body, there was something broken inside her eyes which she simply did not have the power to heal.

             
Salem drew close to her thoughtful Queen. She lightly touched her hands to her tensed shoulders. “Highness,” she said, “I know that you are a private woman when it comes to certain things, but should you ever wish to share your burdens, I am here.”

             
Maven reached across her body. Her hand rested against the hand lightly sitting against her shoulder. She gave it a thankful squeeze. “One day,” she promised, “but I cannot today.”

             
Salem nodded. “Of course, Mistress.”

             
Green eyes again grew lost in the Pyrosian night.

             
The silence grew loud. When it was broken, returning them to the conversation as it had been before Maven grew lost in thought, Salem was almost startled by it.

             
“The Empress is coming?” Maven asked quietly.

             
“Yes, Mistress.” Salem could not help but worry. “She said she wishes to visit friends, but---”

             
“But you believe she has ulterior motives,” Maven finished.

             
“Yes,” Salem admitted hoarsely. She drew in a deep breath then spoke freely as she found green eyes looking back at her from within the reflective windows. “In all the time you were away, the Empress rarely came to the province. When she and I were seen together socially, it was because I attended an event where the Empress was. During those times, we conducted ourselves as if nothing was amiss. She treated me as if I were the true Queen of Whispering Winds, but when we were away from others, the Empress made it clear that she looked upon me differently, that she saw me as something lesser.”

             
Maven listened to all this with a sickening knot forming inside her stomach. She did not have the heart to say that Salem's suspicions were correct. She knew Aurea all too well. In Aurea's mind, Salem was beneath her and for this reason Aurea would want little if anything to do with her.

             
“I don't know what reason she would have to come here, Majesty.”

             
“Her reasoning is simple, pet,” Maven answered softly. “She's come to learn what I know.”

             
Salem blanched. “About Logos?”

             
Maven nodded her head slowly.

             
“Will you tell her?” Salem suddenly feared for her Mistress.

             
“I must,” the Queen answered simply.

             
Salem's heart fell.

             
“But,” Maven continued, “what I tell her and how much, is at my discretion.” She turned her head. Beautifully, she smiled over her shoulder. “After all, who can dispute what I alone know?”

             
Salem basked in that smile. It reminded her of the queen Maven had once been when Salem had pledged herself to her.

********

              By the time the Empress had come to grace the province of Whispering Winds, the land's Queen was restored to full health. The weight stress had stripped from her had returned to soften her body. Maven once again possessed her former curvaceous glory. She looked away from the mirror housing her restored strengths to the woman entering the room.

             
“Salem,” she whispered.

             
The woman looked divine in whispered blue. It was beautiful while possessing a modesty which her garments as a Queen did not. As she stood smiling warmly to her sovereign it was clear that she enjoyed her life as Maven's companion far more than she did her ruse of a life as Queen Maven. Her wondrous face was framed by a wig of deep brown. It accentuated the light dusting of freckles across her cheeks and nose. Her green eyes danced.