Leoden was locked down so tightly not even a mouse or an ant could have crawled out. With the Day Watch patrolling the streets and ordering people to stay indoors you would have thought the plague had returned. The only reason Serpico could move with relative freedom in the city was the red lion of House Leon sown to his cloak. Belonging to a group of actors patronized by a count came with some unexpected privileges.
But even this would not last.
As a playwright, Serpico had learned to use his imagination and he could see which way the things were going. Many people talked out loud about the return of the plague. Under hushed breaths they whispered about a civil war.
Serpico moved through the streets as quickly as he dared.
The Day Watch was like a suspicious dog. Any sudden movement could make it bite. The white cloaks and polished helmets didn’t make them look any less like thugs with swords. And they were still gentle compared to the Night Watch if they caught you past curfew.
Finally, he arrived at the theatre.
The World was the finest theatre in Leoden and not just because of the count’s money. Talent called out to talent, and they had the best troupe of actors in Leoden. Perhaps in all Garuccia. Or they’d had before the king had ordered the city gates and theaters closed. Now his actors were traveling the countryside to make a living while the World’s windows were boarded, and the doors barred to prevent rabble rousers from stealing the expensive props and costumes.
Seeing his World reduced to such a state broke his heart every time.
Serpico knocked on the door and a hatch on the door slid opened. A suspicious eye glanced outside before shutting the lid again. Keys jingled and a lock was opened. Serpico rushed inside to the relative safety of the World and the door was locked tightly behind him.
A relieved sigh escaped Serpico’s lips when he was standing in his theater, and he pulled back his hood.
Unlike most actors and playwrights, Serpico was tanned with rough hands and muscular arms. A reminder of his youth as a tanner’s son who had also worked the fields until he had left for Leoden in search of his fortunes. As was in style he kept his mustache thin and paired with a small beard.
“Did you get them?” Dio asked while leaning against the door.
Being the World’s lead actor, king of the stage, as some called him, Dio was a good-looking man and could still believably play young men and women as the plays called for. Having been born to the business, Dio had pale skin from spending his life playing in dark theaters and nimble the way only someone who jumped and danced around the stage for hours on end every day could be.
“I got them.” Serpico said and took out the bread, hard cheese and bottle of wine hidden under his cloak.
They sat down to eat on one of the tables nearest to the stage, under the banner of their patron. The words of House Leon had been adorned under the red lion that symbolized their House; Fortune favors the bold. Serpico hoped the words didn’t ring true. He was not feeling brave today.
“Any word on what’s going on?” Dio asked while they ate.
“Not a clue. I tried sending a letter to the count but even the mail has stopped running.” Serpico said.
Dio had a sip of wine and grimaced like he had tasted vinegar.
“You should be grateful that the mail isn’t running. If the word gets out that the count’s actors fucked off to the countryside without his leave, we’re all screwed.” Dio said.
“Not like we could do much to stop them.” Serpico said.
“Explain that to count.” Dio said.
Even though he made a living from his imagination, Serpico could not imagine a way to talk the count out of a temper tantrum. Lions had moods like natural disasters.
“I’d rather not.” Serpico said.
After the bread and cheese was gone, they sat back and drank the wine. It might be the last bottle they’d get to enjoy. Just because the World didn’t have any plays to perform, it didn’t mean that rent didn’t need paying. They were bleeding money, and it was only a matter of time before they were bled dry.
“I did… hear a rumor.” Serpico said after two cups of wine.
“What kind of rumor?” Dio asked.
Some secrets were too terrible to say out loud even after two cups of wine and Serpico leaned in closer to whisper it.
“They say Firebird is dead.”
Dio couldn’t have been more shocked if Serpico had told him that Osetaria had surrendered unconditionally and pledged loyalty to the Garuccian crown. Then came the fear. Just suggesting the crown prince was dead could cost you your tongue and even king of the stage was not good enough to act without one.
“… how?” Dio asked.
“I don’t know. He just… vanished right before the city locked down.” Serpico said.
“… oh fuck…” Dio sighed.
Dio was not just an actor but a businessman as well and he could guess what the death of crown prince would mean. War. Osetaria would not ignore such an opportunity, but the real threat came from the inside. Loss of the heir apparent could make the other nobles feel… bold. Firebird’s younger brother was still a child and if one great house decided to act… others would follow.
Civil war would come calling.
And while Garuccia was cutting itself to pieces, Osetaria would be watching and waiting behind their borders. Ready to strike when Garuccia was finished settling things amongst themselves. The Teeth were the greatest natural defense anyone had ever found but the Osetarians controlled the Bone Steps, Stone Steps and Steel Steps. If they thought it worth the effort, they would march their armies in and…
There was a knock at the door and the two actors almost fell over dead from fright.
For a moment Serpico was sure that the Day Watch had heard them spreading punishable rumors but then he realized they would have just kicked down the door without bothering with the knocking and confiscate their tongues. And then looted the theater.
Serpico and Dio glanced at each other and then at the door.
“Who goes there?” Serpico asked.
“Open the door.”
The command was simple and normally they would have told the knocker to piss off but the authority in the voice was so unquestionable that Dio didn’t even stop to think before he obeyed. He pulled out the key and opened the door.
A large man in a grey cloak was standing by the door.
His face was hidden by a hood, but his sword was not. He was taller than either of the actors with arms even more muscular than Serpico’s. His knuckles were flat and calloused. He brushed past Dio surprisingly nimbly for a man his size.
“Lock the door.” The man ordered.
Once again Dio obeyed, and the door was slammed shut. The man removed his hood and revealed a long face with an aquiline nose that had bene broken more than once. His black hair was clipped short, but his mustache grew wild. The deep blue eyes were hard as painted rocks.
But what was worse…
What was worse was that Serpico recognized him. It took Dio a moment to catch up with Serpico but when he got a good look at the man, they both bent their knees.
“Milord!” They said in unison.
The man… ser Orion of House Poe, captain of the praetorian guard… and closest friend of Firebird ignored them and looked at the empty theatre like he was trying to find spies hiding in the shadows. His hand never left the handle of his sword. When he had eased the worst of his paranoia, he looked at Serpico and Dio.
“You’re the playwright Serpico and actor Dio?” Ser Orion said.
Serpico and Dio glanced at each other just to make sure they were still themselves and then nodded.
“Playwright, you have been summoned to the Red Palace.” Ser Orion said and dropped a small purse on the table: “For your trouble. There will be more when you’re done.”
Serpico and Dio looked at the purse, too afraid to move.
“… may I, milord?” Serpico asked.
Ser Orion rolled his hand impatiently and Serpico opened the purse. The gold coins inside were almost blinding. It was more money than Serpico had ever seen. More money than the theater was worth. Enough money to buy the land the theater stood on. Enough money to buy a man’s services and soul.
“… what would you have me do, milord?” Serpico asked.
“We will leave immediately.” Ser Orion said.
Dio cleared his throat.
“… what about me, milord?” Dio asked.
“You will stay here and watch over the theater and the gold. My men will be close and watch over you.” Ser Orion said and suddenly he loomed over them both: “If a word of this gets out, I will have your heads.”
Serpico and Dio could only nod in response and ser Orion told Serpico to leave his tools. Writing utensils were prepared for him and he would not need to bring his own. Ser Orion had come with a spare cloak and handed it to Serpico. Serpico put on the same kind of grey cloak that ser Orion was wearing and they left through the front door. Members of the Day Watch glanced at them as they walked by and just let them go. Like they were no more than ghosts. Leoden was a city full of them. Shops and markets stood abandoned, and people had hunkered down in their homes. When Serpico follower ser Orion, he felt like they were the only people left in a dead land.
Then ser Orion brought him to the edge of the world.
There were two sides to Leoden separated by a steel and stone. A high wall cut off the Red Palace from rest of Leoden and inside it was a place that had never known want or sickness. Home of the rulers of Leoden. The rich and powerful. The few times Serpico had seen it, the place could have been from a fairytale. The streets were always clean, and the houses were built saving no expenses other than the architects imagination. There was no sign of the Day Guard which made sense. The Day Guard had been found to guard the rich from the poor. The wealthy were protected but not bound by the law whereas Serpico and his ilk… bound but not protected.
But…
The high wall had always made Serpico think that the king was trapped inside his own palace. A gilded prison. An observation he had never shared with anyone. Ser Orion was so accustomed to the wonders inside that he didn’t pay any attention to it, but Serpico took it all in. The marvelous clothes of the rich. Jewels of the fine ladies. People who had never seen beggars in street corners. The banners of House Eld waved in the flagpoles. A phoenix on a field of fire. Every time he saw it, Serpico thought of the words of House Eld. ‘Scorched earth soon becomes a new Path.’
Another wall separated the rich from the royalty. Reminder that there was power beyond money. The rich could buy what they pleased. The king could have anything created from nothing.
The Red Palace lived up to its name. It had been crafted from wine red stone and was the crown of Leoden. It stood in the middle of the city, so all citizens were equally close to their king. As they passed soldiers of the praetorian guard inside the Red Palace, Serpico noticed something. None of the knights were carrying the sigil of House Poe. Three golden stars on dark blue night sky. Instead, the banner depicted a red bull feasting on green grass. Serpico glanced at Ser Orion confused. As the captain of the praetorian guard and a member of House Poe, the praetorian guard should have been wearing his banner.
Even while walking ahead of him, Ser Orion could sense his unease.
“If you want to ask something, you have my leave to do so.” Ser Orion said.
Serpico gathered his courage.
“Why… did the captain of the praetorian guard come to get me personally? Why doesn’t the praetorian guard carry your banner?”
Ser Orion squeezed the hilt of his sword hard enough for Serpico to hear his knuckles crack.
“I’m no longer the captain of the praetorian guard. The queen relieved me of my post.”
Serpico laughed nervously.
“Don’t you mean the king, milord?”
“The queen.” Ser Orion nearly shouted: “She even bribed my family not to raise a fuss by arranging some Italian lord called Grimaldi to marry my sister.”
Serpico had learned to roll with the punches after dealing with drunken hecklers but now he was lost at words. He had heard rumors that the queen had been trying to arrange another Italian family called the Rossis to marry into House Leon.
When Serpico looked around, he wondered if the powerful were as safe as they thought.
Inside the Red Palace you could find the history of the country. Tapestries and painting depicting King Eld’s victory over the dragon Girusai and dedications to the old gods of the Wyrding.
Which made the church being built at the yard a shock.
“Unbelievable.” Ser Orion muttered.
“What is it, milord?” Serpico asked.
“The queen has ordered a new church to be built in the castle. One for the cross god. None of the cowards at court dared to object. Except lord Ferro.” Ser Orion said and rolled his eyes: “And what did the queen say? That since no one is forced to enter it, it would cause no frustration. Lord Ferro answered back that we should erect a whorehouse next to it. Since no one would be forced to enter it, it should cause no frustration.”
Serpico couldn’t help but laugh and Ser Orion laughed too.
“He was banished from court, of course. And with him left the last of the court’s backbone.” Ser Orion said.
They used the hidden paths inside the castle meant for servants that kept them out of sight and out of mind of those they served. Serpico wondered how many nobles lived their entire lives without realizing that food and clean clothes did not appear out of nowhere. That there existed an entire secret world that allowed them to live the lives they led.
After a while Serpico could tell they were ascending.
“What you will see here will not leave this room. Swear it.” Ser Orion said.
Serpico licked his dry lips.
“I swear by the Wild, milord.” Serpico said.
Ser Orion stared at him for a moment and then nodded, seemingly satisfied.
“Good. I swear by the Balefire that if you lied, I will hunt you to the ends of the Earth and beyond. You will not be safe from me even in the Wyrding.”
Serpico nodded to show that he understood, and Ser Orion led him into a room located in the tallest tower in the Red Palace. The room smelled of incense and flowers that could not hide the stench of creeping death. Incense to overpower the smell of decay and flowers to lay down on a grave. The walls were lined with art depicting gardens so vividly they could have tricked bees. But the finest perfumes and furniture could not hide what the place was.
A prison.
A man slept on the most comfortable bed Serpico had ever seen and for a moment Serpico mistook him for an old man. The face was sagged and the short-cropped hair grey. Then he realized he was a man in his prime eaten away by sickness. His face was rugged like it had been carved with an ax and burned by wind. His jaw was angular, and his nose could have been a raven’s beak. Until then Serpico had only seen the man in parades wearing his signature bird armor.
The crown prince.
Prince of the Balefire.
Ser Roderick Eld.
Descendant of the first king of men.
Firebird.
Before he knew it, Serpico was on his knees and pressing his forehead against the floor. Meanwhile ser Orion approached the bed with all the respect he could and nudged the crown prince awake with gentleness Serpico had never thought a knight would be capable of.
“Roderick? He is here.” Ser Orion said.
The Firebird opened his eyes slowly and they were the most vivid blue Serpico had ever seen. Almost purple. The color of kings.
“… Orion… I had a dream… that an angel was outside my window…” Firebird said.
“I see.” Ser Orion said and glanced at the prostrated Serpico: “The playwright you requested is here.”
Some clarity returned to Firebird’s eyes and Serpico realized he had been drugged with laudanum. It did treat pain but left a man witless. Like an Osetarian drunk. Serpico had never seen anyone force his mind clear up through willpower alone, but Firebird did just that. His expressions turned firm and his voice commanding even if still wracked by pain.
“You are… the playwright Serpico?” Firebird asked.
“… yes, your highness.” Serpico said.
“You have my… leave to stand. Orion… leave us for now… see that a room is prepared for him.” Firebird said.
Ser Orion bowed.
“It will be done, my prince.”
Serpico almost begged the knight not to leave him alone with the crown prince. When it was just the two of them, he felt pressure the kind you would only find at the bottom of the ocean. He was standing inside Firebird’s clenched fist. Getting crushed.
Firebird pushed himself into a sitting position with effort that seemed inhuman.
“Don’t be… so nervous. We have met before. Your company… did a play for the court… two years ago. I congratulated you… in person.” Firebird said and wiped sweat off his brow.
A heat started spreading from Serpico’s chest to the tip of his fingers and toes. His cheeks felt ready to catch fire.
“I didn’t think you’d remember me, your highness.” Serpico said.
“You wouldn’t be here… if I didn’t and… if you must use a title… call me ser. I am no longer the crown prince.” Firebird said.
Serpico stared at Firebird like he had just told him that the world had ended, and this room was all that remained. Outside the door was just the primordial chaos of the Queen of Cold and Darkness.
“… what…” Was all Serpico could manage.
“My father… in his wisdom… has stripped me of my heritage and titles… he said… a cripple is not fit to sit on the throne of Garuccia.”
Serpico stared at him feeling like his whole body had turned into wood.
“… what happened… ser?”
Firebird let out a bitter laugh.
“An accident… they say… a tragic accident… I fell off my horse when my saddle strap broke… the stable master was executed on my stepmother’s orders… before I could intervene… they blamed him but… I have my suspicions…” Firebird said and stared at his feet: “My legs… no longer work… I can barely move my arms… before I lose everything… I want my story written down.”
“Ser… milord… its forbidden to write plays of… living royalty.” Serpico said.
“I am… barely royalty anymore and… barely living.” Firebird said and coughed.
Serpico could smell blood on his breath.
“My stepmother… wants my father to make her brother a duke and… create a new Great House. House Hugo. If that happens… the only thing that stands between those foreigners and the crown… is my little brother… the truth will be Raoul’s shield…”
Serpico had sworn loyalty to House Leon and felt that he had to defend their honor even if it was against Firebird himself.
“House Leon would never stand for it. Nor would House Poe and House Ferro.”
“If they were… a unified front? Never but… stepmother has been bribing them with gifts and marriages to… foreign nobles. Unless I do something… Garuccia will soon bow to… Rome.” Firebird said and looked at him sharply: “You should fear this too. After all… you’re one of the Blessed.”
As an actor Serpico knew that sometimes you could tell more with body language than with a monologue and he tried to stay very still.
“Ser… I don’t…”
“Don’t… deny it. I could tell by a look when we met. I have been… to the Wyrding.” Firebird said and rolled his hand: “My spymasters… also try to protect the Blessed the best they could.”
Serpico smiled politely.
“And here I thought I had been so careful. The passing years have not been kind to the Blessed.”
“No… they have not. My stepmother has not been kind to anything Garuccian.” Firebird said and rested his hands over his chest: “… your blessing… you could show people… visions.”
This was a secret that Serpico had not shared even with Dio but Firebird… he felt he could trust the crown prince with his secrets and life.
“I can have people’s memories play out around them. All I have to do is touch them. It’s like a play happening all around them. I awoke to it when I was five and my parents were pleased. We lived in the country and didn’t know that being born a Blessed was no longer a blessing.”
Firebird nodded while staring the ceiling.
“It used to be… different… people born with gifts from the gods were cherished and now…”
“Now they’re called devil worshippers, ser.” Serpico said.
“… yes… and will only get worse… if that cross god sinks his evil claws any deeper into Garuccia… I can no longer wield a sword but… I have other weapons.”
Serpico noticed a small desk by the prince’s bed with ink, quills, and parchments. He approached slowly and sat down by Firebird’s side.
“Shall we begin, ser?” Serpico asked.
“Yes…” Firebird said and closed his eyes to sharpen his memory: “I am ser Roderick Eld… Firebird… Sword and Shield of Garuccia… Knight of Balefire… rightful heir to the throne… born in year 458 After Eld…”
Serpico reached out and touched Firebird’s shoulder gently. He called out to the magic that was in his blood and had never had to study in the magic schools to wield it. Firebird’s memories flowed out and Serpico waited to see what shape his memories would take.
He was surprised that instead of some great battlefield on the eve of war, they stood in a forest with trees thick as three men embracing and tall as castles. There was something odd about the place. The colors were more vivid than anything he had ever seen. The leaves were greener, the sky bluer and the scents… the air was so pure that just breathing was a pleasure.
“Is… this…?” Serpico said.
“Yes. The Wyrding.” Firebird said.
Firebird was no longer lying in broken bed but standing by Serpico’s side. Healthy and strong. Much to Serpico’s surprise Firebird was not a tall man. Of the two of them Serpico was the taller one, but his body was lean as a whip and the muscles in his arms were the most well developed Serpico had ever seen. He was wearing a simple leather tunic and thick boots you would pull on for training.
“This is part of the Wolf Clan’s Sacred Grove. Home of the wolf queen. Her Dreadful Majesty.” Firebird said and looked around with a smile: “She was friends with my mother. The true queen. The one my father cast aside to marry that foreigner.”
The memory around them shifted and now they stood on the training grounds of the Red Palace. Serpico and Firebird watched while a young boy was being trained in the way of the sword by a warrior wife who looked much like Firebird.
“My mother was the one who taught me to swing a sword. Once she was respected as a hero but as the cross god’s influence grew, people started calling her mannish and a traitor to her sex. When she was replaced by that pretender queen, she sent me to safety. To the wolf queen.” Firebird said.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
The memory shifted again, and they returned again to the forest… where a young Firebird… no older than ten was greeted by a golden wolf the size of an elephant. Her fur was gold, but her eyes were the color of morning mist. The air was sizzling around her like her sheer power was enough to burn reality around her. A god that walked in the Wyrding forest and made it grow.
And at the wolf queen’s feet stood… what Serpico first thought was a man.
Then he realized the man was an elf dressed in a green coat decorated with silver leaves. He was beautiful but eerie with features that looked regal and alien. His forehead was high and his ears long. His eyes were green as emeralds and the black hair was cropped short.
“Who is that, ser?” Serpico asked.
“The Green Knight, Demeron. The Wyrd King’s bastard brother and the wolf queen’s consort.”
“Demeron? Wasn’t he King Eld’s…?”
“Squire? Yes, he was. Demeron squired for King Eld and Roderick Eld squired for Demeron.” Firebird said and smiled affectionately at the divine couple: “And he made me earn it.”
Serpico watched as Demeron handed young Firebird an ax and told him to cut down the trees.
“Demeron always had a prickish sense of humor. During the reign of King Eld, he would let unworthy knights cut off his head and then just put it back and told them that he would return the favor next year. Then he told me to cut down a forest that grew back every night.”
Serpico and Firebird followed the child and watched him begin swinging the ax. No matter how hard he hit, the ax would just bounce off trees that were hard and tall as mountains.
“Those trees were tough as steel. It took me a week before I was strong enough to make a dent in them.” Firebird said and crossed his arms: “I would spend my days chopping down trees and my afternoons playing with Demeron’s and the wolf queen’s children. The warwolves.”
The memory faded again and Serpico saw the young Firebird wrestle with wolf cubs the size of ponies. The wolf cubs were not only unusually large, but they also had a far too human cunning in their eyes. Much like their mother’s.
“Can you imagine how fast and strong I was after a year of that? Before Demeron even started teaching me how to fight like a knight?” Firebird asked.
The boy grew strong cutting down trees and wrestling with the skin-changer wolves. His arms became thick with muscles, and you could have broken stones on his back. Splinters flew when his ax struck the mighty trees. Bringing one down would have been a day’s work, but the young Firebird was able to get it done in an hour. The whole world shook when the tree fell over.
“Seeing that tree fall was the best feeling I’d ever had.” Firebird said: “But that was only the beginning of my training.”
The memory was replaced by a new one and now Serpico could see young Firebird training with Demeron. Serpico had seen tourneys where knights went at each other with lances and blunt swords. It had taught him enough about fighting to know that only the great masters could make it look easy and graceful.
Demeron made it look easy and graceful.
Even with all his new strength and speed, the young Firebird couldn’t keep up and Demeron disarmed him time and time again. He had never seen anyone move like water. It was like Firebird was fighting smoke. Demeron was always outside his sword’s reach, but Firebird was never outside his and Demeron would envelope him without warning.
“It’s odd but I was never angry or bitter that I lost every bout with him.” Firebird said: “I was… invigorated. I thought that one day I could be his equal.”
Firebird laughed bitterly.
“As if I would live for centuries. I was a fool back then.”
Not all of Firebird’s training was done with Demeron and more often than not his sparring partner was a girl of maybe eighteen. She had a wolfish look to her with a deep tan and the kind of muscles you got from running, swimming, and climbing all day every day. Her eyes were the same shade of grey as the wolf queen’s, and she wielded a wooden sword like Demeron.
“Who is she?” Serpico asked.
“The wolf princess. Her Dreadful Highness. She was my best friend and… first love. She turned down my proposal. Gently.” Firebird said.
The memory shattered and they were back in the tower when Firebird had a coughing fit. He brought a handkerchief to his lips and Serpico could see blood on it as he coughed. After the cough had passed, Firebird lied on his bed looking like he had spent all day on the field. Dizzy and exhausted.
“… ser?”
“… water…” Firebird wheezed.
There was a jug of water by the bed and Serpico poured Firebird a glass that he helped him to drink. Firebird let out a relieved sigh like a man who was free of pain after a long agony.
“… forgive me…” Firebird said: “… let us continue…”
“We should hold off… using my blessing. It can wear you down.” Serpico said.
“… oh…” Firebird said sounding disappointed: “… very well… I stayed with the wolf clan for years… I didn’t return until I was fifteen and when I did…”
Firebird sighed and Serpico wrote everything down. I felt like he was taming lightning with his quill.
“… when I returned, I found the Red Palace to have been much changed. My grandfather had wanted to modernize Garuccia and had sent my father to study European nations. When he returned… and had abandoned the Balefire for the cross god and… cast aside my mother for a foreign woman… it gave him a wound that would not heal… when I returned… my grandfather was dead, and my father was king… with an heir to spare… my half-brother Raoul…”
Firebird grimaced from pain.
“… we… will continue… later… summon the… nurses…”
Serpico did as he was ordered and summoned the nurses who were always ready to serve the prince. He left to give the prince the dignity of privacy and found ser Orion waiting for him at the root of the stairs. The knight held out his hand and the playwright handed him what he had written.
“They will be safe with me.” Ser Orion said.
Serpico had no illusions about ser Orion and knew the knight would read what he had written and cut his throat if his work was found wanting. Outside night had fallen and ser Orion led Serpico to the mess hall where the guards and servants ate so as not to rouse suspicions. The air was heavy with the scent of grease and spices. Ser Orion went to eat with his fellow knights while Serpico filled his plates with potatoes, mushrooms, and chicken legs. He ate on his lonesome and tried to make sense of everything he had learned today.
His thoughts were disturbed when he heard laughter.
The Red Palace had become a grim place but even now people found cause to laugh. When he looked up, he saw a blonde child jesting with the other serving boys. Some of them were laughing so hard that there were tears in their eyes.
Serpico fell back in his grim musings.
He had never noticed it before but so many carried signets of the cross god around their necks. He had never taken much notice of it in the streets of Leoden but if it the cross god was taking hold of the Red Palace, it would soon become a mandate for the rest of the country.
“Breaks your heart, doesn’t it?”
Serpico looked up and was surprised to come face to face with the blonde child who had made other boys laugh. He had hay colored hair and light blue eyes that looked almost grey. It was odd but… Serpico could have sworn the boy was older than his youth implied.
“What does?” Serpico asked.
“The crosses.” The blonde boy said and took out a cigarette: “They pop up everywhere these days. Like warts on the tip of a whoremonger’s cock.”
The boy lit the cigarette and blew out a smoke ring before offering one for Serpico.
“No thank you. I don’t smoke.” Serpico said.
“Your loss. Have you at least studied the cross god’s ways? I have. Sounds like a con to me and I should know. I grew up on show business. After all the child molesters, flim-flam men, and cult leaders I ran into, I know a con when I see one.” The boy said and puffed out smoke: “What’s the difference between a flim-flam man and a cult leader, you may ask? A flim-flam man wants your purse. A cult leader wants your soul. The cross god is after both. Do as the cross god says and dole out all your dough or eternal fire awaits you. This is a con if I’ve ever heard one. I wish I had thought of it.”
“It does sound like one.” Serpico admitted and looked at the boy closely: “I am sorry but who are you?”
“Bert of the Hill and you… are master Serpico.” The boy said.
“You know me?”
“Of course. We’re colleagues after all. Sort of. I am a mummer by trade. Bert is my name and laughter is my game.”
“Bert is an odd name.” Serpico said.
“Not where I come from.” Bert said and smiled.
The smile was wide enough to show teeth and the boy’s canines were… unusually long and sharp.
“It’s good to find another man of the stage here. I was worried I was the only intellectual among rapists. This is a joyless place.” Bert said.
“I have noticed.”
“It’s good to notice things. Or not. It can be very dangerous to notice things. Especially here. No one dares to notice the broken bird in the tower.” Bert said.
Serpico stared at the strange boy he was beginning to suspect was no boy at all. His face looked… off. Like a mirage.
“… who are you?”
“I told you. Bert of the Hill. And I am here on behalf of my lady. She has been wondering why she hasn’t heard back from her special friend. Now I know.” Bert said and took out a stack of letters from under his tunic: “Would you be a friend to me and see that Firebird gets these?”
Their hands brushed together when Bert stuck the letters in his hand and Serpico gasped when he felt how cold Bert’s skin was. Like a corpse left in the snow.
“See that Firebird gets them. As a favor from one mummer to another.” Bert said before walking away, tobacco smoke trailing behind him.
Serpico sat paralyzed in place clutching the letters before running to ser Orion. He handed him the letters and the knight jumped on his feet and ordered the entire castle searched. The Red Palace was locked so tightly even rats could not have escaped but there was never a sign of Bert of the Hill.
“How the hell did an Osetarian spy get here?” Ser Orion growled.
Serpico looked at the letters ser Orion had tugged under his belt.
“What will be done with the letters, milord?”
Ser Orion sighed and gave the letters back to Serpico.
“Read them to him. The gods know he needs it.” Ser Orion said.
The writing would continue tomorrow and ser Orion led him to his sleeping place. He would lie down among the servants in a spare bed instead of a room of his own.
“I know the prince wanted you to have private quarters but that would draw too much attention. You will sleep with the other servants.” Ser Orion said: “I will keep looking for that spy. You will be safe here.”
Serpico slept uneasily but luckily castles always woke up early, and the Red Palace was no exception. Servants would rise before the sun to stoke the fires and prepare breakfast for the knights, lords, and royals in the castle. Serpico had barely broken his fast when ser Orion ushered him back to Firebird’s room. The prince’s bedsheets had been changed and the flowers in the vase looked fresh. Firebird was already awake and stared at the window with a wistful expression. His breath and teeth were stained with laudanum tea, but he was forcing his mind to remain clear and his words unblurred.
“… I dreamt of her again.” Firebird said.
“The angel, ser?” Serpico said while he sat down next to Firebird.
“… yes. She stayed outside my window… singing me to sleep.” Firebird said and then pinched the bridge of his nose: “Goddamn… opium. It dulls the pain but… dulls the senses as well.”
Firebird let out a long sigh and stared at his broken body hidden under blankets.
“They have to… turn me from side to side… bed sores could kill me otherwise. This is no way… for a knight to die.” Firebird said.
A shiver with steel shoes ran down Serpico’s back. Seeing a royal in this state would have been grounds to put a man to death. He knew he should have been terrified. Even now Firebird could have had him killed with a single word but… he did not feel afraid. There was no place safer then by the side of a true knight and even a broken knight remained a knight.
“These might cheer you up, ser.” Serpico said and held up the letters.
Firebird’s eyes widened when he saw the letters. Like he could tell their sender by the envelopes alone. Perhaps he could.
“… Katarina.”
Firebird tried to reach for the letters, but he didn’t even have the strength to move his hand except by inches. His hand fell on the blanket and Firebird stared at it like he was trying to shame it to work.
“… ser?” Serpico said.
“Read them to me.” Firebird ordered.
Serpico opened the oldest of the letters. The handwriting was clear, bold, and beautiful. The spelling was a work of art.
My dearest friend,
thank you for your latest letter. Hearing from you never seizes to excite me and your letters remain a great solace. Now more than ever for my father has gone missing.
I fear for the worst.
You didn’t see him at his worst during your visit, but he never fully recovered from the loss of my stepmother and little brother. He buried a part of himself with them. So overcome with grief was he that he might not leave his quarters for days at a time. A beast that seizes to hunt soon starves. Only Hilbert could make him smile but not restore his spirits.
I invited my natural sister to visit us, and it did improve his mood for a while, but he soon fell back to melancholy. To overcome his sorrow, my sister suggested that he would cross the Wyrd Stones and explore the Wyrding like he had in his youth. Maybe even rekindle an old romance with his first love.
I advised him to go and may have sent him to his doom.
For two years I have ruled as Baroness in my father’s name, and I have solidified my claim, but I worry. I worry for my father and the legacy of our House. My sister and uncle are looking for him but there is no sign of him.
Roderick, I need you now more than ever.
Blessing of the Storm upon you.
Sincerely your most beloved friend,
Baroness Katarina von Stradheim
When Serpico was done reading, he stared the letter in shock. House Stradheim was an Osetarian House. An enemy of Garuccia. And not just any Osetarian House but the wardens of one of the Steps that connected Garuccia and Osetaria. The Steel Steps.
“… Katarina…” Firebird whispered before grimacing: “… read me another one…”
Serpico’s hands shook when he put down the letter and opened another one. Just holding a letter like this could have been seen as treason.
My dearest friend,
I have heard what has befallen you and I am truly sorry that I added my own worries to your pain with my previous letter. I now understand why I never heard from you.
Roderick, I solemnly do swear by the Storm that you are not alone. You still have friends. I have not abandoned you.
The best news I can give you right now is that any threats to my power as the head of House Stradheim have been quelled. I summoned uncle Zorig by my side and no distant cousin with ambitions above his station dared to challenge the giants of Oakfall and the warriors of the Cat Clan.
I have an army and I will use it as I see fit.
The search for my father continues but I have made peace with the fact that he is gone. I pray he finds peace in Green Lands and that he died a warrior’s death. Hilbert is beside himself with grief. How do you cheer up someone who’s duty is to cheer up others? For all his japes and jokes, no one of our servants loved my father like Hilbert.
Even if my letters don’t reach you, I hope my feelings do. Stay strong my most beloved friend.
Blessing of the Storm upon you.
Sincerely your most beloved friend,
Baroness Katarina von Stradheim
Firebird sighed when Serpico put down the letter.
“… so… the Baron is dead… I pray that he finds peace in the grave… but… She is safe…” Firebird said and wiped a tear out of his eye: “… Katarina is safe…”
Serpico put down the letter and waited for the room to stop turning. What had he become a part of?
“Ser… how do you know Baroness Stradheim?”
Firebird stared at him for a moment without a word and then turned his head away.
“Pick up your quill and… use your blessing. I want to remember what it’s like to stand. Damn the weariness it causes…”
Serpico nodded and put his hand on Firebird’s shoulder. He started to write while Firebird’s memories set the stage for them. Suddenly Serpico found himself on a hill, looking down on a small farming village early in the morning. Firebird stood by his side and gazed sadly at the farming village.
“My grandfather would tell me stories from his youth. Of the times when giants still worshipped the old ways.” Firebird said.
The Old Ways… Serpico had heard of them. A polite way to say that there had been a time when giants had lived as bandits and pillagers. Taking what they pleased and killed anyone who tried to stop them. Who could stop a giant from taking what it wanted?
Firebird could.
“Giants were a scourge on all of us. Even lords weren’t safe in their fortresses. Giants could knock down stone walls and carry off ladies and serving girls alike.”
Serpico grimaced when he saw a band of giants descend on the farming village. Even the shortest of them stood ten feet tall. Their arms were thick and hairy as apes and their shoulders were so broad and muscular that they looked misshapen, but their faces were oddly human and looked puny on their hulking bodies. They wore chainmail and thick leather and wielded clubs the size of uprooted apple trees. Serpico could hear the knuckles in Firebird’s fist crack when they watched the giants rampage through the village. The leader of the giants seemed to take great joy in carnage and the horns in his helmet were soon stained by blood.
“Then one day the giants raided a mansion belonging to House Stradheim. They took the gold and food and the younger sister of Birgitta von Stradheim who was comelier than Birgitta. Sometimes ugliness has advantages.” Firebird said.
A painting appeared in front of them. A painting of a woman in glorious garb but even the finest silk and jewels could not hide the fact that she was an ugly woman with broad shoulders and a face like a bulldog’s. But there was quiet strength and wisdom in her grey eyes that made her endlessly fascinating. A woman of character whose inner beauty shined through.
“She was a hero. When her sister was taken, everyone gave up on her. Everyone except Birgitta. She took a horse and a battle ax and rode after the giants. She followed them all the way to the Wyrding.” Firebird said.
The painting disappeared and now they were following the same woman on horseback as she rode past the Wyrd Stones. The gate between the worlds opened her and welcomed her into the Wyrding as one of their own.
“She searched for a long time and her travels took her to the Wyrd King’s court.”
Serpico found himself standing in grand wooden hall where two elves sat on thrones decorated with flowers of every colors. The Wyrd King was slender and had the eerie beauty of an elf. His hair was long and golden and his eyes green as summer grass. He wore a simple green flowing coat decorated with golden flowers and his crown was made from flowers.
But the Wyrd Queen was a shock to him.
He had been expecting the Wyrd Queen to be much like her husband. Fair-skinned and golden haired but instead her skin was olive brown and her hair black as crow’s feathers. Her eyes were warm and brown as the earth and lines appeared around them when she smiled. She was dressed in green robes to match her husband but unlike him wore a crown sown from twigs.
“I did not know the Wyrd Queen was dark-skinned.” Serpico said.
“She came from a distant kingdom as a refugee when Girusai burned it down over five hundred years ago. She was one of the first to raise weapons against the black dragon.” Firebird said.
“Even before King Eld?” Serpico asked.
“Long before he was born.” Firebird admitted.
Serpico and Firebird watched as Birgitta explained her blight to the elf king and queen. They listened to her intently and then embraced her to soother her sorrows and promised to aid her in her quest. With the blessing and help of the Wyrd King and Wyrd Queen, Birgitta found her way to the stronghold of the giant king where her little sister had been made a servant.
“The king of the giants was so impressed by Birgitta’s force of will that he agreed to broker peace.” Firebird said.
“I suppose the threat of the Wyrd King helped, ser.” Serpico said.
Firebird nodded.
“Yes. I suppose it did but whatever made the giant king see reason, a peace pact was signed. Giants would give up the Old Ways and Birgitta would marry the king’s son, Ulric.”
“She married a giant? A daunting task.” Serpico said.
“She was a very robust woman.” Firebird said.
They witnessed the wedding ceremony between Ulric and Birgitta. The groom was eleven feet tall and dressed like a warrior. The bride barely reached her future husband to the navel but looked more determined than scared. Before her family and the gods, she agreed to take Ulric as her husband and worship the Storm from there on.
“The marriage was happy from what I could gather but there were hardships. When a half-breed child is born nature flips a coin. Some of them are born with the best qualities of their parents. Some of them… don’t live long. Their firstborn, Gaelic, did not survive the crib but their second son, Karloff…” Firebird said before trailing off.
Three of the Steps belonged to Osetaria. The Bone Steps, Stone Steps, and the Steel Steps. Four hundred years ago king Darius Eld had been bested in battle by the first king of Osetaria. King Darius and his entire army had been blinded and only the king’s squire had been allowed to keep his eyes to lead the king and his maimed army back home.
But not even the mention of the Bone Steps made Garuccians shiver like mentioning the lord of the Steel Steps.
“Karloff was never a king, but he was everything a king should be.” Firebird said.
Image of Baron Stradheim appeared before Serpico. Stories described the Baron as a giant and they had not been far off. Baron Stradheim stood over eight feet tall. He was lean and strong as a young tree but what stole Serpico’s attention was his face. The Baron had a striking resemblance to the ancient Roman emperors. He could have been Julius Caesar’s mirror image. They had the same powerful nose, high forehead, firm jaw, short curly blonde hair, and eyes that saw more than others. A man who could not be deterred or intimidated. There was a hint of madness in him too. All great men did. Madness and greatness had always been two sides of the same coin. It was a bitter thought that man that great was gone.
“To reward Birgitta or perhaps to shackle her, the king of Osetaria gave her House stewardship of Steelfort. All that battling made House Stradheim the fiercest fighting force in Osetaria and the Baron was knighted when he was just fourteen. A year younger than me.” Firebird said.
“I always thought it was an exaggeration when people said that House Stradheim had giant blood in them.” Serpico said.
“Some stories are more real than others. Even Katarina was over seven feet tall and strong enough to kill a knight with her bare hands.” Firebird said.
When image of the Baron’s daughter appeared, Serpico understood how she had made such a strong impression on someone like Firebird. She was taller than any man and even with her golden hair combed and dressed in the finest dresses and jewels, she looked like a barbarian queen just waiting for an excuse to run wild. The sheer determination in her grey eyes rivalled her father’s and she was beautiful as a tiger. Something most people only dared to admire from afar.
“The Baron worshipped the Storm like the rest of his family, and he would live between Steelfort and the castle of his cousin. Oakfall. Ruled by the young giant lord Zorig.” Firebird said.
“So… he was like you, ser?” Serpico said.
“Like me?” Firebird asked.
“You both lived in two worlds. You were both raised by the fae.”
Firebird thought about it and then looked very pleased with himself.
“I suppose we were. Although the Baron had a far more freedom on where he could go. During his stay at Zorig’s castle, he came across the tiger queen. Ruler of the Cat Clan. Her Vicious Majesty.” Firebird said.
The wolf queen had been the size of an elephant. The tiger queen was even bigger. Big enough that she should have made the young Baron look puny but instead the Baron held his ground and met the tiger queen’s gaze without fear. The skin-changer queen and half-giant stayed like that for a long time.
“The Baron was only seventeen, but he was able to seduce the tiger queen.” Firebird said.
“… what?”
“I wouldn’t have believed it either, but a child was born from their coupling. The jaguar princess. Her Vicious Highness. The Baron’s only bastard.”
Serpico felt dizzy just looking at a mirage of the tiger queen and couldn’t even imagine a man who could lie with her.
“Did you ever meet her?” Serpico asked.
“The jaguar princess? Yes.”
A jaguar the size of a bull moose appeared before them. Her fangs and claws were daggers, and her eyes had the green sheen of colored glass. The perfect hunter from whom no one could flee. Then the jaguar took the shape of a woman with black skin. Her eyes remained the same shade of green, but she was now dressed in furs and chainmail. A simple steel helmet protected her head, and she wielded a battle ax and a shield. Her muscles and shoulders would have made most knights envious.
“In battle she would have been more than a match for the wolf princess.” Firebird said and rubbed his chin: “The Baron acknowledged her as his and even after getting married, he kept her near.”
“Was he happy with his new wife?” Serpico asked.
“It was an arranged marriage but a cordial one. They had one child.” Firebird said.
“Katarina?”
“Yes… it was a difficult birth and… only Katarina survived.”
While the memories played around them, Serpico wrote everything down. He would have to draw from all his skills to turn this into a play.
“How did you meet Katarina, ser?” Serpico asked.
“After I finished my training with Demeron and was knighted by him, I returned home. I had no doubt that my stepmother would have been delighted to see me killed but no man could match me, and I was well-loved by my people.” Firebird said: “But I still stayed away from the court as much as possible. I travelled Garuccia and fulfilled my vows to protect the powerless the best I could.”
Firebird began rubbing his knuckles like he was dying to hit something.
“There was soon much need for knights like me. The giants had given up the Old Ways, but some fool always tried to bring them back. One of them was Gazeric. Too mad to feel fear and dumb enough to break the peace treaty. I was tasked with stopping him and I was even gifted with Mother Mercy to do it.”
A white straight sword with red ripples running through it that made the sword look like a bandaged wound appeared in Firebird’s hand. He tested its weight and swung it around a few times.
“This was one of the swords that Alberich forged. And the only one he cursed. Whoever wields it, is driven mad. My stepmother’s gifts were always poisoned but I managed to come to an understanding with the blade.”
The landscape of memories shifted and Serpico saw Gazeric rampaging through the Garuccian countryside until Firebird rode to stop him with his band of knights. They managed to root out the giant bandit and send him running.
“We stopped Gazeric from using the Wyrd Stones and fleeing back into the Wyrding. To save himself he crossed the Teeth to Osetaria, and I followed him there. I…”
The visions came crashing down when Firebird grimaced from the pain.
“… the nurses… get the nurses… Orion… can tell the rest of Gazeric…”
Much to his horror Serpico realized that Firebird had lost control of his bladder and bowels. The stench was nothing compared to the pain he felt seeing someone so noble dragged so low. He left the room quickly and called for the nurses. When he climbed down the stairs shaken, he found ser Orion waiting for him.
“Well?” Ser Orion said.
“He… needed to rest but… he told me you could tell me more about Gazeric, milord.” Serpico said.
Ser Orion was quiet for a moment and then nodded.
“Very well. I thought he was mad when he ordered us to follow Gazeric.” Ser Orion said.
“Because of Mother Mercy?” Serpico said.
Ser Orion was quiet for a moment like the mention of the cursed sword had knocked something loose in him. When he looked at Serpico his eyes were empty like a man wanting someone to share the horror he had seen. Somethings were too heavy to be carried alone.
“Want to see it?”
A drop of hot sweat ran down Serpico’s back.
“… yes, milord.”
There was an armory in the yard, but the prince did not use it. He had his own private storage where weapons he had won over his many adventures were stored.
It was where his famous armor was kept.
The armor stood in the middle of the room like it was keeping watch. It was lighter than most to make movement easier and Serpico realized that heavier armor would only be hinderance when facing the fae. A regular helmet could stop a mace, but it would be of little use against a giant. The armor was colored a dark shade of red and a black raven had been painted in the cuirass. Firebird’s personal coat of arms. A raven on a field of fire. The visor had hidden his face to protect the eyes, but it had also made him seem mysterious. More than a man. A living legend. The beak and eyes of a fierce bird of prey had been crafted into the helm which had given Firebird his name.
“Incredible…” Serpico sighed.
Weapons of all kinds had been mounted on the walls. Spears, axes, daggers, flails, morning stars, lances, and bows. All worn down with use but maintained well. And amidst them all was a heavy chest with a steel lock.
“He mastered all of these.” Ser Orion said while looking at the weapons: “He would pick a weapon one day and by the next you would have sworn he had been wielding it for years. When it comes to warfare, Roderick knows everything that has been ever done or tried.”
When ser Orion stood before the heavy chest, he took out a key hidden under his belt and then hesitated like he was about to let out a terrible beast from its cage. The knight steeled his resolve and turned the key in the lock.
Firebird’s memories of the sword hidden in the chest had not done the blade justice.
Mother Mercy was beautiful and terrifying like a siren beckoning sailors to a watery doom. White as fear on a coward’s face with red ripples that could have been simmering lava. But what was more… he could hear a voice… the sword was calling to him. Begging him to pick her up and let her drink the blood of his enemies from their open wounds.
Ser Orion slapped Serpico’s hand away when he tried to pick up the blade.
“You can watch but not touch.” Ser Orion said while gripping the chest’s lid like it was the only thing stopping him from picking up the sword himself.
“It… called to me.” Serpico said.
“I know. It calls to me too.” Ser Orion said and closed the chest: “The blacksmith king Alberich forged many swords from adamant. Father Justice that King Eld used to slay the dragon Girusai. Good Sister for the Wyrd King. Loyal Son for the Wyrd King’s family. And then… Mother Mercy. Gifted to King Eld’s son Beron.”
“It drove him mad, and Beron killed his father in his sleep.” Serpico said.
“Yes.” Ser Orion said grimly: “Gazeric recognized the sword at once and was sure it had driven Roderick mad. Why else would he have chased a giant to Osetaria? He was so sure that Roderick was crazy that he demanded for a duel. I was sure Roderick had lost his wits too when he said yes.”
Ser Orion glanced at him.
“I know you’re a Blessed. I know you can see into other men’s memories. So let’s do this.”
“As you wish.”
Serpico touched ser Orion’s shoulder and his memories flooded out. The armory turned into a mountain path… where Firebird’s band of knights had surrounded badly injured and malnourished giants. Only their leader still had some fight and bluster left in him.
Gazeric…
Gazeric stood over ten feet tall, and he had a brutish face and a cruel smile. He had goat horns grafted in his helmet and he wielded a halberd tall as a stone pillar. Firebird’s knights were standing behind their prince and Serpico could see them trembling. He spotted ser Orion among the knights and although he kept a brave face, he could not bring himself to stand by his prince’s side.
“Have you ever been a soldier?” Ser Orion asked.
“No, milord. Actors are exempted from service.” Serpico said.
“Is a man who hasn’t served truly a man? You probably have been raised to believe that war is some jolly romp where a knight can cut down hundreds of enemies with the flick of his sword.” Ser Orion said bitterly: “You know nothing. There is nothing more terrifying than war. There is little glory in victory because the victors have to see the battlefield afterwards. Only the dead are glorious in war. They are blind to the aftermath.”
They fell quiet when Firebird’s and Gazeric’s duel began.
He had seen sword fighting in tourneys and he realized immediately that tourneys were as much theater as they were a test of skill. Knights showing off their abilities to each other and potential lords who might be interested in taking them in their service.
There was nothing showy about this.
This duel was harsh and brutal. Gazeric swung his halberd like a tornado and Serpico could feel the earth tremble every time he missed Firebird and struck the ground. Most men would have run away from him spewing yellow and brown with every step.
Firebird was not like most men.
Even though Gazeric was over ten feet tall, Firebird made him look puny. An angry child swinging around a weapon he had never properly mastered and trusted that his superior reach and strength would overcome anything.
As if a giant could touch a bird soaring in the sky.
Demeron had trained the knight well and Firebird fought like King Eld reborn. He danced around Gazeric, testing his defenses and wearing him down. He moved like water the way Demeron had. So smooth and powerful. He made the giant angry and sloppy. Pushing him to make mistakes. Finding cracks in his armor. When Gazeric faced Firebird, his size became a weakness. When he could not just squash his enemy like a bug, he wore himself down quickly.
Serpico watched as Gazeric defeated himself.
Then the moment of truth came. Gazeric swung his halberd in anger and lost his footing. Suddenly Firebird flew past his weapon and drove Mother Mercy into the knee joint in his armor. Gazeric fell like a collapsing mountain and not even a giant was tall when lying on his back.
“Gazeric was a killer and a defiler of women, but he faced his end bravely.” Ser Orion said with some begrudging respect.
“The finest moment of his life was how he left it.” Serpico said.
They watched as Gazeric stared his death in the eyes and didn’t try to beg for his life. He simply accepted his end grimly. In return Firebird finished him quickly. A giant’s neck was thick but not as thick as the trees Firebird had spent his childhood chopping down.
Gazeric’s head hit the ground and the memory faded.
When they stood in the armory, ser Orion seemed to be on the verge of tears.
“Firebird… our Roderick… he made us believe that legends were true… that he was King Eld reborn… he should have been king… it’s not fair…”
Serpico would have admitted under the threat of torture that he did not much care for ser Orion who was boorish and brutish but… he was Firebird’s man. Through and through. Serpico realized that he was one now too. They had that in common.
“Thank you for sharing this with me, ser Orion.” Serpico said.
Serpico ate dinner alone and had a cup of wine while he waited to be summoned again. He had to wait through the night, and he slept uneasily. It was early when ser Orion woke him up and told him that he was needed by the prince’s side.
Serpico did not bother breaking his fast and rushed to his prince’s chamber.
When he entered Firebird’s room, his sheets had been changed and the room was aired out. But there was still the faint odor of urine that the flowers could not hide.
“I heard… the angel again… outside my window… asking to be let in…” Firebird said and stared down at his broken body: “… if only… I could open the window…”
Serpico glanced at the window. There was no balcony outside, and the walls were too smooth for even a cat to climb them. Firebird shook his head like he could read Serpico’s mind. It was all just a dream. There were no angels to whisk him away.
“Where… were we?” Firebird asked.
Serpico sat down and picked up his quill.
“You had been hunting down Gazeric, ser. Ser Orion showed me how you bested him.” Serpico said.
“Yes… it was madness… facing a giant like that but… I could see the road to victory. I wondered if it was… a mirage… an illusion of Mother Mercy… until I killed him… But killing Gazeric did not solve our big problem. We were… deep behind the borders of Osetaria… luckily… we had friends there.” Firebird said.
“Friends? House Stradheim?” Serpico said.
“Not yet… Gazeric had lived as a bandit and the Osetarians feared we were no better… I ordered my men to pay for everything we took and to be respectful with the Osetarians. We were… knights… defending the powerless… that includes Osetarians. They repaid our kindness with… shelter and food.”
Firebird let out a snort that turned into a coughing fit.
“I suppose… we were in less danger than I thought. The Iron King… would not have started a war just to kill me.”
“Maybe he was counting on your stepmother to do it for him.” Serpico said.
Firebird grinned.
“… that seems likely.” Firebird said and continued his story: “… when I was hunting Gazeric… House Stradheim was facing… hardships of its own… the Baron had married again… this time for love… but it did not last… his new wife died in childbirth and this time the child was lost too.”
Serpico wrote down everything he heard. Even great men could be broken. The heart was a fragile thing.
“… the Baron was distraught… he could no longer fulfill his duties… governance fell on Katarina… who was now his sole heir.”
“That must have caused a stir.” Serpico said.
“… yes… and Katarina left on a journey to soothe her vassals worries… but not all could be soothed. When she was staying with House Varius… they turned on her… chained her like a beast but… she was able to kill a knight before being brought down.” Firebird said and bared his teeth: “They wanted to… defect… House Varius had heard of me… and wanted to betray Osetaria… to join Garuccia… so they brought Katarina before me as… proof of loyalty. To hand over Steel Steps… and make them the new stewards…”
The memory came out like a typhoon and Serpico saw the tall and proud Katarina pushed on her knees before Firebird. Naked and in chains. It was revolting. Killing a tiger was one thing. Humiliating it was a crime that could not be forgiven. Instead of taking joy in seeing an Osetarian noble humiliated so, Firebird put his own cloak on her shoulders and cut off her shackles.
“Once… Katarina was free… I put that house of traitors to the sword.” Firebird said.
“Some might have accepted that offer, ser.” Serpico said.
“Foolish men… what is a traitor’s fealty worth? And offering me a woman in chains… like I was some common rapist… they chose their fate. No one… who breaks sacred hospitality may live.”
Firebird coughed again and Serpico helped him drink some water. Firebird licked his cracked lips and rubbed his eyes.
“Do you need to rest, ser?”
“No. We finish this.” Firebird said: “I returned her home and… it brought the Baron back to life for a moment… I had never seen a man like that… so overwhelming…”
More memories filled the room, and the tower became Steelfort’s great hall filled with music, food, and wine. Serpico saw the Baron sitting at the end of his table with Katarina on his right side that marked her as his heir and Firebird on his left side as was befitting of a guest of honor. He spotted Her Vicious Highness embracing her little sister and despite being the older sister, the skin-changer princess was a full foot shorter than Katarina.
The sisters could not have been more different.
Katarina was a politician with fair skin and golden hair while the jaguar princess was a warrior with dark skin and black hair but their affection for each other was apparent. They also had the same fire in their eyes. The same determination. Amongst the guests was also the Baron’s giant cousin Zorig. He was a very different creature from Gazeric with a noble presence and a boisterous look to him. He was also an albino with ash grey hair and eyes. Most color had been washed off from his skin and made him look like a living corpse.
Then there was the fool…
The Baron’s court jester was a great favorite and laughter followed him everywhere. He wore a white tunic and a dunce cap. His face was painted clown white, and he was dancing and joking. Something about him was so very familiar but he could not get a good look at his face.
“Who is that fool?” Serpico asked.
“… him? Hilbert.” Firebird said: “A minor annoyance.”
Hill… Bert?
No… it couldn’t have been. The fool Hilbert was obviously older than the young mummer he had met.
Serpico forgot all about Hilbert when he spotted an elf in the great hall. Like the Wyrd Queen, she was brown skinned and eyed. She was short in stature but had a powerful presence.
“The Baron had an elf in his court?” Serpico said.
“Yes… Drystania… Katarina’s private tutor… kin to the Wyrd Queen and a witch from the magic school Domdaniel.” Firebird said.
They watched the celebration for Katarina’s safe return. The Baron raised his goblet and patted Firebird’s back like he was his long-lost son who had finally found his way home.
“The Baron was part giant. Did he fault you for slaying his kin?” Serpico asked.
“… no… he was pleased… the peace treaty between humans and giants was his mother’s legacy… anyone who broke it was his sworn enemy…” Firebird said and coughed: “… we were guests of honor… for a week… then we rode through the Steel Steps… to home… but I stayed in touch with Katarina… through letters…”
Serpico could not help but wonder if Firebird and Katarina had stayed in touch with just letters. Firebird was infamous for turning down all potential suitors and a wandering knight could easily visit Steel Steps unseen.
“Now… letters… read for me…” Firebird said.
Serpico opened a new letter and for some reason… it felt different. The handwriting was without a doubt Katarina’s but… something did not feel quite right. Like there had been a… change. Serpico could not explain it but something about these later letters made him feel uneasy. Opening the letter felt like sticking his hand in a nest of snakes.
My dearest friend,
my father has returned. I mourned him too soon and now he has returned home. Like I thought he made his way to the Sacred Grove where the tiger queen lived and to raise his spirits, Her Vicious Majesty about a treasure hidden deep underneath the Wyrding. In the catacombs carved during the Age of Wonder. Where only darkness and corpse-feeders dwell now.
He went in and found the treasure.
My father has great plans for this treasure, and he is trying to convince me and uncle Zorig to take part in this gift. Hilbert has already accepted and partaken in the communion. Hilbert did always love my father the most and would follow him even to the land of the dead.
I have my doubts.
The gift is great but the price one must pay for it is great too. Nothing worth having comes for free but sometimes the payment is too high. What intrigues me even more is the Path my father uncovered. I have worshipped the Storm all my life. First tenet of the Storm. Power builds the Path. But this other Path calls to something in me.
Do as thy will is the whole of the Path.
My old tutor, Drystania, has returned to father’s side to help him understand his new gift and help him expand it. It is odd that I only know realize how unchanging Drystania is. Sometimes I wish I had been born an elf and have never ending time on my hands.
I must ponder this gift more, but I suspect I have already made my decision. Stay strong, my friend. You are not forgotten.
Blessing of the Dark upon you.
Sincerely your most beloved friend,
Baroness Katarina von Stradheim
“The Baron… lives…” Firebird said.
“What is this gift she is talking about?”
“I… don’t know… more read me more…”
Serpico opened another letter, and a shiver ran down his back when he touched the paper. A shiver he had felt when he had seen Mother Mercy. When the blade had called to him. There was magic in that letter.
My dearest friend,
I have accepted the gift. The price was steep but acceptable and now the world has opened to me in a way I had never thought possible. I can see wind. I can feel the bones of the earth under my feet. I can hear the world moving on its axis. I can even understand the mechanics that move the stars.
But I am not satisfied.
I wish to share this gift with you. We have had to hide so much but with this treasure we can be free. We can be free together. I want you to see the world the way I see it. I want you to wield the power I wield.
I will not waste too much ink this time. The time for letters has come to an end. It was high time we talked face to face. You’re not alone and soon we will be together again, my love.
Blessing of the Dark upon you, my most beloved.
With all my love,
Baroness Katarina von Stradheim
Firebird had fallen silent when the letter had been read.
“She… loves me… even now… would she still love me… if she saw me now?” Firebird said and closed his eyes: “And with that… it is done… Serpico… I have one order… make the world remember me as I was… save Garuccia from these foreign serpents.”
Serpico dried his eyes and hid the pages under his tunic.
“Yes, ser.”
“… good… before you go… open the window… I want to hear… the angel again.”
Serpico took his leave and found ser Orion waiting for him downstairs.
“So… it is done?” Ser Orion said.
“… yes, milord.”
Ser Orion looked at him for a long time.
“You are no warrior but… you have served him well. I now ask you something in return.” Ser Orion said.
“What can I do for you, milord?”
“Write a death poem for me. My prince will soon be gone, and I will not be far behind.”
A great weight fell to the pit of Serpico’s stomach.
“I… it will be done, milord.”
“Very well. I will have a payment readied for your services and…”
“Milord… let me be there. To witness the end. So all know it was over cleanly and honorably.” Serpico said.
Ser Orion thought about and then sighed.
“Very well. We will act tonight.”
Serpico could not eat anything that day and ser Orion used the time they had left teaching him of the secret passages in the Red Palace. He showed Serpico how to flee unseen and undetected when the deed was done. No one would know he had been there. He would simply disappear like a ghost.
And take the truth with him.
When night fell and the royal palace grew quiet and dim, ser Orion took Serpico to Firebird’s armory. There from the great chest they took out Mother Mercy. A knight like Firebird deserved to die by a famous blade. Ser Orion wrapped Mother Mercy in oil cloth while ignoring the sword’s calls and they used the secret passages to move unseen through the castle. They began climbing the stairs to the tower with heavy feet.
That was where they found the clown.
He was sitting on the stairs, smoking a cigarette, and blowing out perfect circles of smoke. He was dressed in a white tunic and dunce cap to match his skin… that did not look painted. The only splash of color on him where his nose, lips… and eyes. His eyes were red like drops of blood. He looked like a child but something about his bearing seemed so much older.
Serpico and ser Orion stared dumbfounded this odd creature who greeted them with a grin.
“Master Serpico. Ser Cocklepants. Evening. Blessing of the Dark upon you. Hilbert the Hilarious has arrived to save you from yourselves. Why not make some noise for the world’s oldest child prodigy?” The clown said.
“You…?” Serpico said.
Hilbert cocked his head.
“Sorry about that dog and pony show the other day but I had my orders, and all is well that ends well, am I right?”
Ser Orion drew his sword and pointed it at Hilbert.
“Who are you?” Ser Orion said.
“A bit slow on the uptake, are we? Hilbert the Hilarious is my name, and comedy is my game.” Hilbert said.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” Ser Orion said.
“Neither should you but I don’t hold that against you.” Hilbert said, stood up and flicked away his cigarette: “Now… be a pal and hand over Mother Mercy.”
When Hilbert put out his hand, Serpico could see his fingers ending in black talons. Ser Orion could see them too… and the fangs behind Hilbert’s painted lips. He acted without thinking and drove his sword through the monster clown’s chest. Hilbert looked down at his impaled chest and smacked his lips like wine had been spilled on his tunic. Then he looked up and laughed.
“Pretty wild, right? Like the tiger queen said to the Baron when she saw his dick for the first time… That’s a lot to take in.” Hilbert said and grabbed the bandaged Mother Mercy from ser Orion: “Thank you kindly.”
Hilbert stepped back and the sword was pulled out of his chest. There was not a drop of blood on the blade and Hilbert shook his head.
“Look at that. I am dehydrated. I need to get a drink soon.”
Hilbert swung the sword over his shoulder and began walking towards Firebird’s room. Ser Orion’s sword fell from his hand. They stood in stunned silence for a moment and then ran after him. When they got to Firebird’s room, they saw her.
The angel.
The angel was the tallest woman Serpico had ever seen. Her skin was white and perfect as marble and her hair the color of gold. She was dressed in crimson and her eyes shined like heavenly fires. She held Firebird in her arms and nodded at them before jumping out of the window.
Serpico and ser Orion ran to the window and saw a giant falcon fly away with Firebird in her talons.