DAWN OF THE PHOENIX Page 18

  Abberdon had brought its soldiers down to the northern border of Bandara, forty-thousand strong. It would be no small incursion. This time it would be war.

  King Cain had ordered Talorn to prepare the army to make the march north to the Abberdonian border. Cain had paid the army with Duke Blackthorn’s generous donation and had spent time over the last few weeks talking with the now-placated Bandaran officers. He made sure they that knew that under his rule they would never be neglected again. He had patches made with the personal symbol he had adopted: the Bandaran red-winged hawk flanked by crossed lances on a blue field. Cain told the troops that the phoenix was still the symbol of Bandara, but he wanted them to wear the hawk so it would remind them they were fighting for their king as well as their country. It would signify that whenever they marched out, he would be with each man in spirit.

  The young king was smart, the army had loved it. Most of them had never served under a king that indulged the military. King Aaron had been very indifferent to it, finding them to be just a large draw on the royal treasury. Now the army was ready to enforce the king’s will and defend the kingdom again. Cain had accomplished it all in less than two weeks.

  Raygan didn’t care about Cain and his war, she was far too distracted by her feelings for her new physician. While Cain had been spending all his time with the army and his tax collectors, Rhys had healed the damage to her face. His skill was amazing; it looked like it had never been damaged at all. She was beautiful again. Her side was still a little sore, but Rhys said he would take care of that today. The handsome healer had won her respect and admiration, and maybe a bit of her affection as well.

  Rhys had not only healed her physical wounds, he had helped the sorrow she had in her heart. His kindness and concern had helped to ease the pain of the loss of her father. The healer had been a true blessing from God. The only thing he couldn’t take away was the anger she felt for her brother. She tried to think of ways she could make Cain pay for what he had done to her. It was the only other thing on the princess’s mind besides Rhys.

  She found herself thinking of revenge often, and not just for the beating or the engagement to Talorn, which she had told no one about. What had drawn her true ire was he had placed her father in the royal tomb in the dead of night with almost no one in attendance at all. She hadn’t even been told about it and wasn’t present at the crude service Bishop Lyfair performed, if he had even truly performed one. Who would know? She wasn’t being told anything. Isabella lurking around the palace eavesdropping was her only source of information. Of all the things Cain had done to her, that was the worst. He had buried their father as if he was ashamed of him. The contempt he had shown for his own flesh and blood was unforgivable. What had really crushed her was she hadn’t gotten to say goodbye to the father she loved so dearly. The new king had taken even that from her.

  The people of Turill had not liked the disrespect shown for their former king, either. They too wanted to give their beloved king a sendoff that benefitted his station, but their anger at the funeral services for the old king didn’t last long. They had quickly found a new target for their outrage: the staggering new taxes Cain had imposed on them. The usually harmonious people of the city had changed to a disgruntled mob in just a few weeks. Her father had been right. Cain was quickly destroying their Bandara.

  Her mind was torn, half of her was filled with rage at her brother and the other half with the feelings she was starting to have for the handsome healer from Tara. It was exasperating; Cain’s deplorable actions had weaved themselves into her life like the thread of a cheap rug. She simply wouldn’t think about it anymore, what could she do anyway? Raygan decided to turn her thoughts back to Rhys.

  She sat in her garden thinking about what she would say to the young physician when she saw him today. As she sat daydreaming, a large male peacock, one of the several that roamed the garden, walked into her line of sight. How her father had loved them. He had once even had the royal dressmaker construct a cape for her out of their tail feathers.

  When she was in the garden, her thoughts always returned to her father. He would have been very fond of Rhys too, she imagined. The healer was gentle and bright, and the old king had loved those traits. She started to fantasize about the two of them. What would they have talked about? It would be her, of course, and the thought of it made the princess smile.

  The warm spring breeze brought her back to the present. Raygan wondered what was keeping Isabella and her healer. The peacock let out a piercing cry and quickly ran for the cover of a hedge cut into the shape of the pagan goddess Octavia. She turned to see what had frightened the peacock.

  Cain was coming across the lawn towards her, and she started to shake despite herself. She had not spoken to him since he had almost killed her. All her petty schemes of revenge washed away only to be replaced by cold fear. She stood up from the bench and put her hands behind her back so Cain would not see her trembling.

  “Sister, may I speak with you a moment?”

  He wore a heavy quilted red gambeson trimmed in gold with the phoenix of Bandara emblazed on the chest. It covered a shirt of fine chainmail their father had given him several years ago.

  She swallowed hard, getting up the courage to speak. “I don’t want to talk to you, Cain, after what you have done to me. I don’t think there is anything to say.” She said it with as much disdain as she could muster.

  Cain nodded. “You’re right, Sister. I was wrong to hurt you like I did, and perhaps I should have waited until you were able to attend Father’s funeral, but war has come and there is no time to stand on ceremony or cater to the whims of women. Besides, you seemed to have overcome your injuries quite quickly. Selmac said that you would be permanently disfigured. Tell me, Sister, how was it you healed so swiftly?”

  Raygan knew then that Cain had heard about Rhys. She had tried to keep his visits private and make them appear as unimportant as possible, but Cain had found out anyway. She was not surprised, many of the servants in the palace were his spies.

  No wrong had been committed and she was the Princess of Bandara, after all, and had the right to have a personal healer if she chose to. There was no reason to fear, but she found herself petrified.

  “I found a very good physician in the city, and he worked wonders on the damage you caused.”

  “I know what you’ve been up to, Sister, and who you’ve been up to it with,” the king said. “His name is Rhys Morgan, and he is from Tara, and if I’m not mistaken he is on his way here right now. I also know he had to have used magic to fix your face. Selmac said there could be no other way the damage was repaired.”

  Raygan’s eyes widened. “No, no, no, there was no magic used. He has a special talent, but it has nothing to do with magic at all. I can tell you…”

  Cain crossed the distance between them in two strides and put his hand over her mouth. “Shut up, Raygan, don’t try to lie to me; sit down on the bench and keep quiet and I will tell you what your king is going to do.”

  Tears came to her eyes and she began to shake all over. There was no hiding now that she was terrified.

  She obeyed Cain and sat down on the bench, and she hated herself for doing it.

  “Very good, dear sister, you are learning. First, your healer will be arrested when he arrives today. The guards at the gate will take him to Bishop Lyfair and he will stand trial for using magic without consent from the Church. He will be found guilty and he will most likely hang.”

  Raygan began to sob; she covered her mouth with her hand and tried to stifle the sound.

  “Second, you will marry Talorn tonight before he takes the army north, and I will not listen to any complaints about it. You should have kept your affair more secret, Raygan. On the bright side, you have your looks back, and I won’t have to listen to Talorn grumble about wedding a woman with a ruined face.”

  Raygan was stunned. Marry Talorn tonight? “Cain, there was no affair, he’s just my healer and…”

&
nbsp; Cain held up one finger then pointed at the princess. “I can put your face back like it was, if you like?”

  Raygan hung her head and said nothing.

  The king stepped back from his sister. “Guards.”

  Four of the Royal Guard emerged from behind a row of hedges; they marched over and saluted their king.

  “Take her to her rooms and stay with her until the wedding.”

  They saluted again, then two of them grabbed Raygan’s arms and pulled her up from the bench. They formed a square around her and prepared to take the princess back to the palace. Cain lifted her chin until she was looking in his eyes.

  “Don’t ever forget who rules Bandara, little sister.” He jerked his hand away and motioned for the guards to take the princess.

  Raygan could only look back at her brother, tears streaming down her face as the guards led her away.

  Isabella thought the guards were acting strange at the palace’s north gate. They seemed to be more alert than most days, watching the people of the city walk by with much more interest than usual. There were more of them too. Most days only two of the Royal Guard were at each entrance to the palace. Today, the north gate had four.

  She thought little more of it, perhaps it was on account of the coming war. The whole city was on edge about it. That and the tax collectors that were going door to door assessing what each citizen should be paying.

  The princess had bid her wait at the gate for Rhys and escort him to her as usual. Isabella didn’t mind, she liked the healer and he had been very kind to her over the last few weeks; he didn’t treat her like a servant at all.

  At first she had thought he was a wizard or evil mage, but as they spent time together and she watched him with the princess, she knew she had been all wrong about him. Isabella had grown fond of Rhys, but not as fond as his royal patient had.

  He had greatly improved the princess’s mood and Isabella was very thankful to him for that. When the princess was sad, she had a way of making everyone else around her sad too.

  She saw Rhys coming and started to wave. As he got closer, Isabella realized it wasn’t him, just a man who looked similar. The guards drew their swords and grabbed the man by the arms, dragging him towards the gate. The man was struggling and asked the guards what he had done.

  They held him there until an officer came down from the center wall of the palace and told the guards they had the wrong man. They released the fellow and pushed him back into the street without even an apology. It took no time for Isabella to catch on to what man they were looking for. Someone in the palace had ordered Rhys’s arrest. The princess would be furious.

  She had to warn him, but what could she do? If she yelled when he approached, she would be seen and that could go bad for her, and there was no time to go find the princess. She couldn’t let the healer be caught, she would just walk into the city and try to warn him before he got to the palace. Yes, that was a good plan. She walked out the gate as she did any other day, acting as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

  Isabella had gotten only a few steps past the guards when they stopped her.

  “Halt, girl, the king has given orders for you not to leave the palace grounds.”

  She turned back towards them, hands on her hips.

  “The princess has sent me on an errand and I must go, unless you want to deal with her.”

  She turned her back to them and walked on. One of the guards grabbed her by the arm.

  “You’re not going anywhere, girl.”

  She started to give the guard a good cussing when she saw Rhys come around a corner down the street. He was heading right for the gate. She had no choice. If she didn’t do something, it would be too late.

  “Run, Rhys! Run, they mean to arrest you,” Isabella screamed as loud as she could.

  Rhys looked up the street at her struggling with the guard. He seemed confused at first. Isabella thought he was going to come down the street to see what was happening. So the handmaiden continued to yell. The guard tried to cover her mouth, but she bit him. Rhys must have finally heard her and realized the guardsman was holding her back. He turned and ran back the way he had come. The guard holding her arms cuffed her in the head.

  “You’ll pay for that, you little Celonian alley cat.” The guard shoved her to the ground and all but one of them ran down the street after Rhys.

  The remaining guardsman picked her up and held her by the arms. The alarm bells were sounding throughout the palace grounds. Royal Guardsmen appeared from everywhere, and she watched as over fifty of them ran out into the city.

  A tall officer walked up to the guard holding her. He was so mad he looked like he could bite his sword in half.

  “What the hell happened? All you had to do was stand here and he would have walked right up to you.”

  The man shoved Isabella forward, still holding her by the arms. “This little bitch called out to him and he ran before he got all the way up the street.”

  The officer slapped Isabella across the face, making her mouth bleed. “Take her and lock her up inside, the king may want a word with her.”

  The guard grabbed her by the hair and started dragging her to the palace. Isabella struggled, but the man punched her in the back twice and she lost her air. She was caught. There was nothing she could do now. She hoped Rhys was a fast runner or it would all be for nothing.

  General Talorn and King Cain stood talking together in the throne room. Captain Overton Hightower did not want to tell the king they had been unsuccessful in capturing the healer. The new king was already notorious for how little patience he had for failure.

  Hightower had just been promoted to the position of Captain of the Royal Guard, and he didn’t want to lose the position or his head.

  The king had been in a foul mood the last few days and Hightower didn’t want to be the one he took his displeasure out on. If he were lucky, the king’s anger would be directed at the scrawny blonde girl he had in chains by his side.

  She had fought them when they first tried to put the chains on her, but his guards had slapped the disobedience out of her. Besides, they would catch the healer soon enough. He had over a hundred men out looking for the elusive physician. Like it or not, he had to make his report.

  “Majesty?”

  Cain looked to the door. “Come in, Captain, we were waiting for you. Did we catch my sister’s…healer?” The king gave Talorn a smug look. The new general said nothing, but the captain could see he looked very unhappy.

  Captain Hightower’s boots clicked on the marble floor as he walked his shuffling prisoner across the throne room. He brought the girl to stand before the two most powerful men in Bandara. The captain told the king and General Blackthorn what had happened at the north gate. They listened without interruption.

  Cain climbed up the stairs of the dais and sat down on the Phoenix Throne. “Talorn, would you go see if Raygan is still in her room? I want to make sure she is preparing herself for the wedding.”

  Isabella’s head snapped up. She looked at the king, but didn’t say a word. Talorn bowed slightly and left the throne room.

  “Captain Hightower, be so good as to shut the door and dismiss the rest of the guard. You and I should be able to handle one small girl.”

  The captain did as he was told. The room was still, only the hush of their voices disturbed the quiet. “My sister didn’t tell you about her upcoming wedding, did she?”

  The handmaiden shook her head.

  Cain smiled down at the girl. “Don’t feel bad, she doesn’t think much of the lower classes. I doubt she would have allowed you to come to the wedding anyway, you know how she is.” The king watched the blonde girl carefully, but her expression didn’t betray her thoughts.

  “Isabella, I want to ask you a few questions. Be at ease, just answer me truthfully and no harm will come to you.

  “Did this healer, Rhys Morgan, defile my sister?”

  Isabella shook her head no.

  The
king looked perturbed. “I want you to speak, Isabella, not just nod. How will I know if you’re telling me the truth?”

  The handmaiden shifted her feet, rattling the chains around her ankles. “I don’t even think they like each other that way. At least I never heard either one speak of it, Your Majesty.” Her voice sounded very small in the empty throne room.

  Cain tapped his finger against his lips and looked down at the girl. “Did the healer use magic to mend your lady’s injuries?”

  “No, Your Majesty, I saw nothing like that.”

  Cain rubbed his eyes. “Isabella, why are you lying to me? This is especially important. You do understand that, don’t you? You can tell the truth, I will see to it Raygan never finds out who told me. You’re a pretty girl, it will not be hard to find another noble for you to serve. You will never even have to see Raygan again. All I want is the truth.”

  Isabella raised her manacled hands and tried to pull her hair back behind her ears. “I’m telling the truth, Your Majesty, I have no reason to lie. Neither one of them has done anything wrong I know of. I will even swear to it on the Holy Tome before Bishop Lyfair.”

  “Well, Isabella, you disappoint me. Captain Hightower, take her to the dungeon and see if Arn can ring the truth from her.”

  The captain looked at the king, puzzled “The royal executioner, Majesty? A good twist of her bony arm and she would most likely give you the truth.”

  Cain stood up from his throne. “Are you questioning my order, Captain? Is that what I just heard you do?”

  “Not at all, Majesty, I will take her down right now.”

  The captain took Isabella by the arm and led her out. There was no need to send the girl down to the dungeons, the new executioner was a monster of a man. This waif of a girl wouldn’t last a second with him.

  Arn had been sent from Braxton Bluff by Duke Blackthorn as a gift to the new king. The duke had told the king that every ruler needed a good executioner and he swore this Arn was the best.