| Queen Elysa followed Jenavere
down the dark, damp staircase. Torchlight flickered against the stone walls.
The heat and stench of the place crawled upwards and closed around Elysa
like a shroud. She had not visited these dungeons in months. She'd had no
cause to. Enemies of the realm seldom allowed themselves to be taken
captive. Those who did simply killed themselves and returned to their clans.
The two women reached the bottom of the stone stairs. A short
hallway extended before them, its low ceilings awakening a claustrophobia in
Elysa that reminded her of the first few years of her life. All those years
of running from the King's assassins, creeping through tunnels and hiding in
basements. A panic rose in Elysa's chest and took hold of her heart. She
closed her eyes and breathed, willing the feeling away. She felt Jenavere's
eyes on her, and became even more panicked. A queen should not show weakness
in front of her subjects. Even subjects as loyal and friendly as Jenavere.
After a few moments, Elysa squashed the claustrophobia,
stuffed it back down into the dark place where she kept her Isparian
memories, and opened her eyes. She wiped a film of sweat from her upper lip
and nodded to Jenavere. Jenavere did not question. She simply pointed
forward.
Six cells lined the hallway. The doors to five of them
hung slightly ajar. The endmost cell on the right was closed. "It's like
nothing else I've seen," Jenavere said. "At first, I thought it was another
variation of the Burun. Some creature they've kept hidden from view. But the
more I study it, the less likely that appears." She shook her head. "No,
this... this is something new."
Elysa gritted her teeth. "Show me," she commanded.
Jenavere walked to the cell, pulled a heavy iron key from
her pocket, and opened the cage.
The first thing Elysa noticed was the stench. The corpse's
noxious metallic reek forced its way down her throat and dredged up a
searing wave of bile. Her eyes watered. She blinked away the tears,
swallowed back the nausea, and focused on the rotting mass of flesh before
her.
The thing was as large as a cow, though it appeared more
bloated than muscular. Its flesh was a sickening shade of pink and was
covered in boils, warts, and lesions. It had two massive, trunk-like legs,
and some sort of sharp spine jutting from its forehead. But the most
disturbing part of its body was its mouth. The beast's massive jaws were
full of hundreds of teeth. The power of the thing's bite must be enormous.
That mouth seemed to take up half its body size. Elysa grimaced. "This
creature was built for eating."
"And that it did," answered Jenavere. "It slaughtered
several cows, as well as a few of your subjects. A swordsman by the name of
Brayden Von Grohl finally killed the thing near Cragstone. He caught up to
it just before it could slay one of our Criers."
Elysa squatted and pointed to a long slit along the belly
of the beast. "What is this?"
"Brayden Von Grohl, your Highness. He cut it open. Found
some fish, some boots, an apple. And toast."
"Quite an appetite." Elysa stood and turned to Jenavere.
"Burn this thing. We don't know what it's capable of. I don't want it
springing back to life and rampaging through my castle."
Jenavere nodded, "Of course, your Highness."
Elysa made her way down the hall, but stopped when she
reached the stairs. "Jenavere," she said.
"Yes?"
"When you speak to Antius next, tell him..." Elysa
struggled for the words. She did not know what she wanted to tell him, but
she felt she needed to say something. That feeling that had come over her
that night in her bedroom still clung to her heart. That fear that she would
not see him again. "Tell him to be careful."
"Of course." Jenavere nodded.
"Thank you." Elysa walked up the stairs, quickening her
pace as she neared the exit from the dungeon. She made her way to her
quarters and shut the doors behind her.
Elysa leaned back against the heavy oak doors and closed
her eyes. A new creature was always a fell portent. And there was too much
of a coincidence between this monster's appearance and that of the
Viamontian in Rithwic. She could not help but assume there was some link
between the two.
Elysa opened her eyes and looked at the bow on the wall,
that weapon Antius had taken to calling the Queenslayer. It beckoned to her
with its promise of a simpler life. A life of smiting one's enemies,
defending one's family, and ignoring the responsibilities of the throne. How
she wished to take up that bow and flee this castle. She would take her
child and her lover and find her way to Asheron. Turn her back on the
citizens who cared not for her rule or the steps she had taken to protect
them. Live the life of a free woman.
It was tempting, yes. But it was not the right thing to
do. Not yet.
"Soon," she whispered. "I'll take you up soon enough."
From Turbine's
Throne of Destiny site
(March 22, 2005) |