The tension was palpable as we waited for Alum’s return from Vizonia.
For my husband to come back from the suicidal mission I’d assigned him to capture a Torak.
Minutes felt like hours, but in reality there was scarcely enough time for reinforcements to arrive at my chambers before the ripples of a portal void forced their way into reality.
‘Out of the way!’ I commanded, gesturing the soldiers to the sides and rear of the portal, and it was well that I did for a red-eyed Torak burst through a second later. The crazed monstrosity was apparently charging at high speed in Vizonia, and this momentum translated into a catastrophic assault on the fourth floor wall of my chambers. It shattered into splinters and the Torak fell forty feet to the ground below.
‘After it!’ I shouted.
Despite my words, I tapped a couple of soldiers to remain and guard the exit point of the portal until both Alum and Tadruk appeared. As the rest of the soldiers filed down the stairs, I could see the Torak shaking itself off slowly through the hole in the wall. It looked dazed. Apparently even an eight-foot tall killing machine couldn’t just shrug off a fall from that height, and that wasn’t even taking into consideration how startling it must be to suddenly find oneself in a different reality. Its eyes faded back to blue and I shouted down to the soldiers not to provoke it.
Alum appeared through the portal and it closed behind him. I went to embrace him, but he was still so highly strung from baiting the Torak and so disoriented from returning to reality that he pushed me away, shaking. A second later our eyes met, and he sheathed his sword. He took a deep breath to calm himself and stepped forward to attempt the embrace again.
‘You’re okay?’ I whispered directly into his ear as he held me tight.
‘Your plan worked,’ he confirmed.
Tadruk appeared behind us with a practised leap. His portal vanished into and out of existence in the blink of an eye. The art of an assassin, I surmised.
‘I recommend you hold the celebrations until we’ve got the Torak tamed,’ he advised.
I frowned at him and returned my gaze to the Torak on the ground. My soldiers had surrounded it warily and I descended to the ground and called for the beast to be restrained with chains and ropes. Though most were unwilling to relinquish their spears, officers organised the restraints and had them looped around the Torak’s wrists, ankles, and core, at first without touching it, and then pulling them tight and binding them firmly but carefully. This was very quickly a success; it appeared that the the blue-eyed mindset of the Torak was naturally submissive.
I arranged for it to be taken to the edge of the city where it could do the least harm. I trusted the officers to maintain a guard for the beast until Timoth returned to sort things out more formally.
Timoth. He’d run off, presumably to complete our mission on his own. We’d certainly created a worthy distraction, but that was far from enough to stop me from worrying for his safety. Why hadn’t he portalled back to Trackford? A long time had passed, after all. Had he been captured and bound? Was he trussed up in some Vizonian dungeon being tortured for information?
I couldn’t give up on him so soon, though my stomach was as a churning pit of worry. I returned to my chambers while Alum remained to organise a repair crew for the damaged wall. Mistress Pulfae wanted to leave, but I refused to give up on Timoth so quickly and bade her stay. Conversely, I hedged my bets by commanding Tadruk in kind.
‘If he doesn’t show up in the next hour, we’re going back in,’ I told him, and though he protested, his words fell on deaf ears.
Alum rejoined me and said that it was unwise to re-enter the hornet’s nest so soon after stirring it. I told him that wisdom did not enter into the equation when the safety of my family was concerned, only necessity.
Thus we waited, paused in anxious intermission, heedless of the affairs of state which required my constant attention. Neither Alum, Tadruk, Pulfae, or the handful of remaining guards dared break the silence, even when the work crew arrived to board up the damaged wall.
A portal burst into existence, followed quickly by Timoth. He looked terrible, heavily burdened by cuts and his clothes stained with blood, but he did not appear in too much pain. He even waved away Mistress Pulfae who, to her credit, moved to treat his wounds before the portal had even closed.
‘You’re alive!’ Timoth was the first to exclaim.
‘As are you,’ I replied, smiling and briefly embracing him. ‘Are you wounded?’
Timoth shook his head. ‘Naught but scratches, though I would be grateful if these could be sterilised and bandaged in time. Presently, I am honoured to present to you the Ashwood Blade of the faerie king.’
Timoth proffered me the blade in his outstretched hands and I grasped it by the hilt. The sword was entirely made of wood and reminded me of the training swords with which the Haelling Cove soldiery often sparred. I was not fooled by its mundane appearance, however, as the legend said that the blade was eternally sharp. And it was mundane: no gems or ornamental engravings decorated the hilt or blade. Barely discernible veins of milky white ran beneath the wood. It was even compact enough for me to easily wield, presumably on account of the fact that faeries were smaller than humans.
‘How did you manage it? I feared for your life,’ I said.
‘I managed to slip away from my pursuers in an empty building with an open window. I waited while they searched, ready to portal back at any moment, but then the search abruptly ceased and most of the soldiers ran in your direction. I took advantage of the distraction to leave my hideout and approach the archives, but they must have guessed my target for an ambush was laid inside. I had approached cautiously and was able to defend myself at first, but I knew I would soon be overwhelmed. However, I let them corner me inside the building rather than driving me out of it, and as I fled I searched for the Ashwood Blade. With difficulty, I stalled the soldiers near the blade’s exhibit and shattered the casing with the pommel of my sword. That’s where I got most of these scratches: their spears were too unwieldy in the tight space for a fatal thrust. Once I had the blade, I portalled back here.’
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‘A marvellous tale of daring heroics! But it has failed to explain the origin of the beautiful necklace you now wear. You did not take it with you into Vizonia, for I would certainly have noticed jewellery of such radiance.’
Timoth slipped the necklace under his tunic. I’d only been able to see it for a few seconds, but it had appeared as some sort of blue gemstone in a wooden casing made to resemble ivy.
‘Never mind the necklace, it is but a trinket. In any case, I too have questions: what was the distraction that freed me from my hideout? And what is the reason for the damage to the wall?’
I told him what had happened to us after our separation from him while the healers treated his wounds. He was understandably astonished at our accomplishments and almost leapt out of the room to see the captured Torak, stopped only by my demand that he let the healers finish their task. As we spoke, Tadruk slipped out of the room and I let him go. His task was done; our task was done.
In the following days, Timoth oversaw the construction of a wooden fence around the Torak, as well as the installation of regular patrols and guards around its enclosure. I doubted if either would be sufficient to prevent its escape if it became enraged, but it was all I’d seen the Vizonians make use of in their own enclosure so I guessed that it wouldn’t be too difficult to keep it blue-eyed and content. For this reason, and much to Timoth’s disappointment, I forbade physical experimentation on the beast. Timoth’s military experts would have to make do with mere observation and theorycraft.
On the other hand, this gave me freedom to attempt to train the Torak. I doubted that the Vizonians had gone to the trouble of capturing, armouring, and stabling the Toraks with the goal of merely letting them loose as berserkers in a battle where they’d be a hazard to both sides. They must have sufficient intelligence to obey basic commands at the very least. They could even be a fairly intelligent species for all I knew. Tadruk had certainly indicated as such.
Therefore, I made daily trips to the Torak enclosure, sometimes eschewing my courtly duties in order to do so. Food was unappealing to the beast, but I soon discovered its reliance upon sunlight. I had a parasol installed at the peak of the Torak’s iron Vizonian armour, shading its entire torso, head, and neck when open, and I used a trailing string to open and close it as a form of training incentive. At first I was too scared to get close enough to grab the string, but the Torak’s movements, though bulky, were neither sudden nor violent, and my courage grew with repeated exposure. The training itself was no more difficult than that of a castle rat-hound, no doubt assisted by a pre-existing Vizonian regime. Only a few days after the parasol’s installation, I was able to reliably command the Torak to walk, halt, and kneel purely with verbal instruction.
Pleased with my progress, I dubbed the creature Wargwa, in memory of the Gentleman whose demise was perhaps the darkest act of my youth. Of course, neither Timoth nor Alum approved of my time spent with the Torak. Alum in particular seemed distant and almost betrayed in response to my actions. I took my validation instead from Tadruk, who had the most experience with the creatures and seemed not at all concerned by my training. Apparently, he’d seen far more risky commands obeyed by the beasts and thought little of teaching them a dog’s tricks.
Late one evening, after the damage to our chambers had been repaired and we were alone in the dining room enjoying a post-supper glass of bloodberry wine, Alum spoke to me.
‘Recently, I have thought about you at length,’ he began.
‘That is very sweet,’ I replied, but he shook his head.
‘I do not refer to idle romantic fantasies. I mean that I have thought on how you have changed from the girl I first adored in Hollowhold. You raised the subject recently.’
His words chilled me. I wasn’t prepared for a deeply serious discussion of our marriage. Of course I’d changed, but he made it sound like I was so different that the person referred to in our marriage contract might no longer exist. His tone was morose and quiet and I dared not respond until he was done speaking his mind.
‘We were so in love - even though we barely knew each other. We looked across the capital at each other, loving from afar, waiting for that day when we might be together. Now, though we are together, you are riven with distraction. Where once I was made to feel as though I was your entire purpose, your entire world, I am now made to feel small.’
‘I did not mean to neglect you, Alum. Events have just moved so quickly. We have still found time to eat together, and couple in the evenings,’ I said.
‘Forgive me, Saemara. I am choosing my words poorly. I do not mean to sound like an embittered housewife regretting the replacement of romance’s initial uncertainty with the drudgery of daily life. My concerns run deeper than that. You have become a risktaker second to none! Personally accompanying the expedition to Vizonia was a massive risk, to say nothing of remaining there after we were discovered, or even of your decision to capture an enraged Torak! And since our return, you have persisted in spending your every free moment in the company of that beast. You were once refreshingly carefree to the point of naivety, now you are careless almost to the point of negligence!’
‘You would do well to watch your tongue, husband or not,’ I admonished him. ‘You speak of a carefree girl who knew not the burden of duty. Yet you were not with me when my family were murdered, nor when an attempt was made on my life and that of my brother. I would have thought a Prince from Hollowhold would understand the need to make personal sacrifices for the sake of the realm.’
Alum shook his head in exasperation. ‘We are talking at cross purposes. I understand duty. I am saying that what you once found joyful you now find tiresome, and that I am one such thing.’
‘So what if I do?’ I snapped. I felt ambushed by his accusations. I was astonished he had the gall to question our relationship with absolutely no warning. ‘I was sixteen when we met. I couldn’t even summon a portal! I was so stupid, I embarrassed my whole family before the House of Djiron. I cared only about image and romance, and I admit it - I find them tiresome! They are a distraction from more important duties.’
‘Would you have me leave? Should I return to Hollowhold alone?’
‘Of course not!’ I exclaimed, going from anger to terror in a moment. I didn’t have time to pick up the pieces from a failed royal marriage right now. The damage it would do to my regime would be immeasurable. ‘I love you, Alum. Truly, and with all my heart. I do not lie with you for the mere physical titillation of the act. But I can no longer be the bright-eyed country girl I once was. If I am no longer the object of your desire, then you must make your own decision. I cannot promise to put my own desires or even safety ahead of those of Ebonreach. That is not the hand I have been dealt, and I hope that you can come to terms with it.’
Alum said nothing in response, and I downed the rest of my glass of bloodberry wine. I thought about going to bed, as coupling seemed unlikely given our current mood. I sympathised with my husband, truly I did, but there was naught that I could give him. A countess has no time for frivolities. As much as his attractiveness had once enjoyed primacy among my mind’s fantastical wanderings, I now made love with him mostly out of duty to provide an heir and thus stability to the realm. It was all I could do to pray that, one day, our lives would be simpler, and there would be more time to enjoy with each other.