SEVERIN
“Father?”
Severin gazed into the empty hall, and for a fleeting moment, he saw a figure. It was his father. He stood tall, as handsome as ever, with that familiar stern expression. Any moment now, he would scold him once more. He often did, even though Severin had long since crossed into his forties, with four children of his own, and was soon to marry off his eldest son. His father had always found something to reprimand him for, even on the night he died, poisoned by some ill-fated meal. But that was many years ago. Why was he seeing him now?
The apparition of Oberon the Second, son of Oberon, was stern and cold, like a winter’s wind. Severin felt a bead of sweat trickle down his brow. He was alone in the throne room, uncertain of what to say to the ghost of his father.
Outside, a wolf howled. Then a second. They were the wolves of the royal court. When a third joined the chorus, his father’s image faded.
Severin leaned back against the plush blankets draped over his throne, where the heads of two recently deceased wolves protruded from the armrests, his hands resting upon them.
When subjects from the kingdom or guests from afar came to visit, Severin would cast aside the blankets and, hiding his discomfort, would sit upon the throne like a true king. Just as he believed himself to be. But now, with no one to expect, he had spread the blankets and settled in as comfortably as one could.
Now, the affairs of men and subjects troubled him little. Alone, as evening approached, he sat upon the bone throne, holding in his hand a strange object he had taken to calling the Bone, though he wasn’t sure it truly was one. The object was long, hollow, and slightly curved, with the form and structure of a bone. When he grasped it in one hand and lifted it, it was no longer than his arm. By the light of the candle beside him, he could see its hollow interior. Over the days he had possessed it, he had tried several times to break it, but each time the bone began to crack, his heart pounded faster and more fiercely, like a horse’s gallop, and he would relent, placing it beside him once more. Until the object seemed to call out to him again.
And so, he took it up once more, feeling that same surge of emotion. It was not joy, nor sorrow. Just a wave that washed over him from within. This time, the sound of the great, heavy doors of the throne room creaking open interrupted him. The two guards standing beside them stepped back, allowing a small, frail man, no older than sixty, to enter. The man approached with quick, purposeful strides. Severin wondered if he, too, was a vision, but no. He recognized this man. He was dark-haired, with a pendant hanging from his neck—a pendant that Severin himself had gifted him for his services to both his father and himself. The pendant was adorned with wolf claws, a rare gift, and only two men possessed one. One of them was Yorick.
The man came as close to his king as he dared, knelt briefly, and then rose just as swiftly.
“You summoned me, King Severin.”
Severin did not recall calling for him. Lately, he had been forgetting things. This, too, he blamed on the Bone. He was certain of it. The barbarian object was seeping into his mind more and more. Yet, in a strange way, it also brought him peace.
“Sit, Yorick,” Severin gestured to one of the chairs at the table in the center of the hall. He took the Bone in his hands, rose heavily from his throne, and joined him. He felt a sense of relief in his back. At times, he truly hated that throne. As he sat, he placed the Bone before Yorick and looked him in the eye. “What do you make of this, Yorick?”
“A bone, King Severin.”
“I can see that. But why was it so important to the barbarians?”
“The barbarians? I do not know.” Yorick lowered his gaze to the Bone. He grasped it with both hands, turning it over, inspecting it from every angle. He even attempted to snap off the tip, but failed. Then, he handed it back to Severin.
“It looks like an animal bone to me. Nothing more. If you ask me, you’re wasting your time.”
“Listen, Yorick. The barbarians may be ugly and vile, dressed in rags that even the poorest in my kingdom would not wear, but they are not fools. They are fierce fighters, and lately, they have been causing me considerable trouble. But they are poor. The only things that drive them are their hunger and their lust for gold. And this Bone… this Bone was placed upon a cushion, carried by two beautiful barbarian women. Well, the women died later, but at least ten warriors guarded them. They guarded the women, but in truth, they guarded the Bone. I believe I took something very important from them.”
“A remarkable victory, my lord. We lost fewer men than at the Eagle Bridge a few years ago. We have two gravely wounded who may not survive much longer. And that’s all. While the barbarians…”
“Two is nothing in the face of this victory. But there is one thing I do not understand. Why was this Bone so important to them? It must be sacred to them.”
Yorick took the Bone in his hands again, turning it over. He examined it closely, bringing it near his small eyes, then holding it away, before giving his final judgment.
“If you ask me, my king, it’s merely a barbarian trinket they worship. If I may be so bold, it’s akin to the way your Lilith is devoted to her books, or Borin’s love for ships and the sea. They, too, would die for these whims. This Bone is yet another oddity the barbarians use for inspiration. You know they do not honor the common gods. They worship things like this.” Yorick set the Bone on the table and pointed to it dismissively.
The wound from the battle, which still festered on Severin’s arm, began to throb. He placed his other hand over the wound, and his palm turned red from the blood. It had begun to bleed again. Yorick noticed.
“Shall I summon the healer, Martin?”
“No, Yorick. There is nothing more he can do. It’s slow to heal, that’s all. I’ll endure the pain. This is nothing compared to what I inflicted on the barbarians. Ah, if only you had seen how they died upon the tip of my sword.” Severin raised his chin slightly, staring into the distance. He still reveled in the battle as if it were happening before him. He loved killing barbarians. Even now, at forty-one, he still had the skill. He still knew how to fight. He had been trained by the best in the kingdom. He had become better than all of them. He hoped Bromir would become so as well.
Severin rolled up his bloody sleeve. The wound looked clean, but with each pulse he felt, a fresh trickle of blood would seep out, staining the table beneath him.
“Perhaps you should cauterize it, my lord. It looks clean, but it just needs to close, that’s all,” Yorick suggested.
“Martin told me the wound needs to breathe so his herbs and salves can work. Are you better than him, Yorick?” Severin looked at him, though he didn’t expect an answer. “I have no reason not to trust him. There isn’t a better healer in our lands.”
“I know of no other, my lord.” Yorick lowered his head, though he still answered.
Severin pulled down his sleeve and took the Bone in his hands once more. He looked Yorick in the eye for a moment. What he was about to do might seem foolish. Yorick stared back impassively. Severin rolled up his sleeve and dipped the Bone into the blood.
Nothing happened. He glanced at Yorick out of the corner of his eye. The advisor was trying not to look.
“Forgive me, my lord, but you’re beginning to act like the barbarians. What was that?” The old advisor adjusted his glasses and leaned back slightly.
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Severin frowned and let the Bone drop onto the table. His sleeve grew heavier and heavier, soaked with blood. The stain was now spreading across the wooden table. The Bone lay there, still as useless as ever. He saw nothing in it. But there had to be a reason the barbarians had guarded it so fiercely. He would find out sooner or later. Until then, he would keep it safe. And he knew the barbarians had more like it. He would be glad to take those as well. If only the wound would heal.
“Enough. I’ll summon Martin,” Yorick said, rising. The blood had frightened him.
“Wait, Yorick. I don’t need that herbalist now. It’s just a little blood. Actually, if you see Martin, tell him to find a book related to bones. I want to know what this is. Or if he knows, he should tell me.”
“You know, my lord,” Yorick said, speaking to him while looking at the Bone, its tip now wrapped in Severin’s blood, “our library isn’t very rich, and our healers are more knowledgeable about herbs than about such items. If I pass it on to them, they might be able to tell you what kind of animal it came from. Perhaps they could even tell you if it’s human, but books like that… Perhaps in Shilan…”
“Shilan?” Severin’s eyes widened.
“In Shilan, everything can be found. The greatest thinkers and scholars are there. They could give you more answers. We don’t have that many books, unfortunately. Or rather, to your daughter Lilith’s dismay, she’s read them all. Some even twice.”
“But what if it’s just a wolf’s bone? I don’t want to make a fool of myself before King Soren. He’ll welcome me with open arms, but if it’s just the bone of some wild beast that the barbarians worshipped... I’ll be the laughingstock. I don’t want to be made a fool of, Yorick.” Severin leaned in toward him.
“You could ask King Soren himself when he comes for your son’s wedding, but even he might not know. However, the people around him, especially the healers, would be aware. If they don’t know, you might have to go to the barbarians yourself. But that would be too much for just a mere bone.”
“Soren got lucky twenty-eight years ago. Or rather, it was that Ajax. His warrior.” Severin set the Bone aside. “I remember the last battle as if it were yesterday. But no, Yorick. I have no intention of going to Shilan. Actually, I will go. But it will be when I sit upon the throne. The throne in the capital. Then I will have the library and the entire world at my disposal. For now, let Soren come. We’ll talk of battles and women. We’ll drink southern wine and feast on meat. As for other matters, I’ll take care of them myself. When Tristan sends me up there,” Severin pointed upward, referring to the highest of all thrones, the one in the capital.
“But that is still two years away, my lord.”
Severin gave him a look that could terrify, and perhaps it did. Then he continued:
“I’ll wait. I was thirteen at the last battle. I expected my father to live to see the one that’s coming. He had high hopes, too, but he didn’t live to see it. And now we’ll win this one for him. I’m no longer a boy, Yorick.”
“Valrak nearly won the battle, my king,” Yorick interjected. “He was a great warrior.”
“A great… yet he lost. Great warriors do not lose. It’s just as well my father didn’t see his defeat.”
“Again, because of the barbarians, sire.”
“That we are not sure of. He was poisoned, but we are not certain it was the barbarians.” Severin gripped the Bone once more. “He would be proud now, seeing their rout. But after Valrak’s defeat, he withdrew and hid. He didn’t like to lose. And we haven’t had our own lord in how long? Eighty years?” Severin didn’t give Yorick a chance to answer and continued. “Speaking of which, how is Tristan?”
Yorick straightened in his chair, his eyes widening.
“Honestly, King Severin, without trying to raise your hopes, but Tristan is better than Volkar.”
“Didn’t you just say that you’ve never seen a greater warrior than Volkar?”
“Well, yes. But for his time. Now, as I watch Tristan…”
“I believe you, Yorick. I believe you.” Severin waved his hand. “But what do you know of battles?”
“Nothing, my lord. I’ve never held a sword. I’m better at writing and speaking.”
“The latter I know. So it’s better I trust Tiberius on these matters. By the way, where is he?”
“Training the new warriors, my lord. Several garrisons of fourteen-year-olds last saw their mothers today, sire, and joined the training grounds.”
“That’s good. Do they have food and water?”
“They do. Twenty of the guards have been sent on patrol in the kingdom, and the new ones will take their places. When they return, we’ll free up one of the stables, and with the help of the new recruits, we’ll turn it into a sleeping quarters. I heard this from Tiberius and gave him permission without consulting you. It seemed like a good idea.”
“You did well. Let them learn that nothing comes easily. I want to meet with Tiberius by day’s end. Be sure to inform him.”
“Of course, my lord.”
“And the queen? Where is my Mirena?”
“I last saw her in the garden, my lord. Shall I call for her?”
“Who is she with?”
“With your daughters, sire. At least, that’s what I saw.”
“All of them? Even Sophia?”
“I didn’t see Sophia.”
Severin laughed. Even if he had seen Sophia standing by her mother, he wouldn’t have believed it.
“And Lilith?”
“I believe Lilith was there too, sire, speaking with… Ariella.” Yorick had bowed his head. Severin pretended not to have heard and waited for him to continue. “Earlier today, some merchants passed through the kingdom.”
“Where were they from?” Severin quickly asked.
“From the settlements near the Eagle Bridge. The princess asked to withdraw from the treasury to purchase some things from them.”
“Books? Don’t make me pull the words from you one by one, Yorick. Speak.”
“Books, sire. As usual. She’s read everything in our library. And, honestly, it no longer interests her, with all the books on herbs and beasts. She wanted something more exciting. Her passion for books is impressive. She reminds me of myself when I was young. But I don’t have much faith in merchants, so we chose carefully.”
“Did you buy them for her, in the end?”
“Yes, sire. I gave two golden wolves.”
“Two whole wolves? You didn’t bargain?”
“We tried, but that was the lowest price.”
“Alright, alright. That’s not so bad. Still, I’d prefer she learn how to be a lady rather than lose herself in books. Those who read too much will serve her in time. She doesn’t need to know all this. And Borin?”
“His ship is nearly finished, my lord. I did exactly as you said. I found the best carpenter and made sure they met. They liked each other, and now the ship is almost ready. Last I heard, Borin is already assembling a crew. All over the port, people are talking about him and his ship. Honestly, not all the talk is good.”
“I care little for talk. And what kind of crew is this? I don’t like this business of his travels, and he knows it, but he’ll do anything to defy me. Has he gathered decent men?”
“You should see him when he speaks of his ship, sire. His eyes light up, and he seems to take flight. He looks just like you when you take up your sword.”
“And yet these ships are folly. He has everything here. Why does he need to travel?”
“I fear you already know the answer, sire. Your sister, Liora. Even as a child, he listened to her tales of the sea. She told him of the islands beyond, of the tribes there…”
“And she died at sea.” Severin slammed his hand on the table. “Most of her stories were fabrications. And after one of her voyages, she didn’t return.”
“Not everyone meets their end there, my lord.”
“I want you to find a good crew for my son, Yorick. Again, without him knowing. Find the best and sneak them into his crew somehow. Take as much as you need from the treasury.”
“That last part won’t be too difficult, sire. As far as I know, Borin is having a bit of trouble with money. But he has already found a crew.”
“He has? Investigate them.” Severin took the Bone in his hands again, turning it over a few times. This time, he wasn’t thinking about it. He was thinking of Borin. He was thinking of the great battle that would come in just two years. He was thinking of Tristan and his son, Bromir. And Yorick stood still and silent beside him.
“And Bromir? He’s the only one I haven’t heard about, Yorick.”
“If you look out the window, you might see him. He’s enjoying his time with Miss Jarr. They talk all day. She’s smitten with him, and it’s clear he likes her too.”
“The lovely Loren.” Severin tried to peer out the window from his seated position, but couldn’t. “She reminds me so much of my wife. Perhaps that’s why Bromir is drawn to her.”
“There is a resemblance, sire. Your Mirena was very beautiful in her youth. In fact, she still is.” Yorick corrected himself almost immediately and hurried to say something else. “The letters for their wedding are also ready. I’m just waiting for your command, sire. We’ll start sending them out whenever you say. We’ll invite the kings of all five kingdoms, and the sixth guest will be the king of all kings—Soren.”
“Not before Loren’s family arrives, Yorick. They’re already on their way. So have a little more patience. I must meet with Lord Jarr and discuss the wedding.”
“That sounds wise, sire. And Bromir, will he…?”
“No, I’m still alive, Yorick.” Severin had anticipated Yorick’s question. “Bromir is my first heir and will take this uncomfortable throne eventually. Until then, he can enjoy all the benefits of the kingdom. But he will also begin to bear responsibility. On that note… Summon Bromir and Tiberius. I want them both here. It’s time my son learned how to rule a kingdom.”
“Is it something about the wedding, sire?”
“You’ll find out when they arrive. I want you here as well.”
Yorick nodded and, with permission, rose and left the throne room. The knights at the doors sent him off the same way they had received him. Severin took the Bone and reluctantly sat back on the throne of bones. He had to be there, at least during the daylight hours, when anyone could come in.
He turned the Bone in his hands, squeezing it a little tighter, and it seemed he heard his father’s voice. He looked around, but his father was not there. He was certain it was his father. He even heard his laughter. He set the Bone beside him and closed his eyes softly.
“If you’re here, Father, know that you were right.”