Chapter 14 Dungeon

My Prince stands there, tranquil and bold, ready to have thirty-three horns rammed through him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It’s excruciating, agonizingly painful, but not cruel. It mirrors the Chosen’s destiny.— Prince Eater #34

“I’ve let him go too far.” No one was near enough to hear her frustration, empathize with her, or respond to her at all, but she talked aloud anyway. She perched on the stone ledge that served as both seating and bed in the windowless underground cell. Her back and head were pressed against the stone wall, her palms rested on each side of her, and her legs stretched out straight in front of her. Her disquiet was not due to her environment or any of the potential legal consequences of angering the Holy King. Her worry was, in fact, Harrison himself. He was nearly beyond control. The pain from the horns no longer stopped him, and upping the sedating effect of the horns did not always slow him down anymore. The transferred properties of the Prince Eaters transformed him into a beast more frequently than ever before. The only action that guaranteed his obedience, if you could call it that, was to induce a coma so that he remained unconscious for extended lengths of time. That was dangerous. It risked Harrison’s life, but more importantly, it jeopardized the cooperation of the people who loyally followed the monarch. As Harrison had astutely acknowledged, the public had become wise to the Ritual being counterfeit.

Once again, she was grateful that she was born a female. Ava O’Connor, niece to the former king’s twenty-third consort. Ava laughed out loud. Consorts, indeed. Each one was a plant, a spy. Each one had been hand-selected and deliberately introduced to the late king for the magi’s own purposes: distraction from scrutiny, a means of acquiring knowledge, and a more subtle method of influencing decisions than the horns provided. Harrison’s father, King Tiernan, enjoyed the tradition of having several consorts, while Harrison disagreed with it so vehemently that he tried to abolish the practice when he accepted the Crown. The magi had to intercede to prevent most of the male babies from being born, and then space out the births of the other boys to keep him in line. She needed someone like Harrison. She needed Prince Jon. He’s alive, she agreed with herself. He’s alive somewhere and I’ll find him.

She and Harrison were never meant to be together, of course. She was tagged for wealthy Old Baron Myllgreen of New East Anglia, and then one evening when Second Sun was low on the horizon, she discovered the teenaged Prince Harrison sulking in the gardens after an argument with his father. His reaction to her changed her life; his unabated, wildly ridiculous love for her altered everything.

SEVENTEEN YEARS EARLIER: HILLTOWN, CASTLE GARDENS

Angry because Ava had refused to conform her behavior while other novitiates did so willingly, Mentoring Priest Nell had disciplined her with solitude. Ava wasn’t supposed to leave the small, sleeping cell novice magi were assigned. She bided her time, knowing that Nell had been invited to share a late evening meal with Gráinne Most Revered, so the mage wouldn’t be there to stop her. Ava shrugged. If Nell learned of her excursion, she would try asking for forgiveness afterward. Ava was sixteen, at the pinnacle of her beauty, and gifted with education and intelligence beyond all of her fellow novitiates and most of the priests, yet life in the Citadel was so stifling that she sometimes thought she was back in the wild border town of her childhood.

As soon as First Sun dipped behind the horizon, Ava headed out. Since she would be disciplined for the unapproved excursion regardless, she eschewed the hooded cloak of her station and undid the tight, formal hairstyle that was required. She loved to feel how the wind lifted her dark locks and savored the light touch of a breeze across her skin. She considered taking the quarterstaff that all novitiates were assigned, but decided against it.

She heard the swearing before she could see the source. Her wariness dissolved as soon as she walked past a stand of ornamental grass and realized that it was Harrison, the Last Prince, destined to become the Holy King. She paused, undid the tie lacing closing the front of her shirt, tossed her hair so it tumbled more attractively, and then said softly, “Harrison? Is that you?”

The prince spun on his heels, and then stammered, “Oh, Ava. I didn’t realize anyone would be out here.”

Her eyes danced to his. She bowed so that her unlaced blouse fell open in full view of the youth and she responded, “Your Royal Highness.”

“Oh, ah, no, no, that’s okay, Ava. I apologize for my outburst,” he stammered with his wide eyes locked exactly where she wanted them to be.

“It’s of no importance. There’s only us here” she said coquettishly.

Having suddenly forgotten the layout of the garden in his nervousness, he looked around frantically, spied a gurygum bench, and said, “Please, would you like to sit for a moment?”

As she neared him on the way to the bench, she slipped her hand into his and squeezed it tenderly. “I only came out because of that baron.”

“He is an overweight buffoon, that’s for sure,” Harrison commiserated as he sat next to her and gently tugged her closer to him.

“I can’t believe the Most Revered is going to force me to marry him,” she complained. “It’s unfair. It’s abusive, that’s what it is. He’s a doddery pervert.”

“I agree. If you want, I can ask my father if he’d intervene. He isn’t very happy with me right now, though. I tried to talk with him about how Chadwick died during the Ritual. It seems so disingenuous, unfair, and deceitful. It’s murder.”

“It certainly is,” Ava agreed. “I hope that you don’t suffer the way your brother did.”

“Yes,” Harrison agreed. He let go of her hand, leaned his arms against his knees, dropped his head, and murmured again, “Yes.”

“I wish we, well, no it’s too silly. I won’t even say it.”

“What?”

Ava shook her head.

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“There’s only us here. You can tell me,” he reassured her. Instead of answering, Ava put her hands over her face and began to cry. Harrison sat up straight and encircled her shoulders with his arms.

“I wish we could be together,” she whispered.

“So do I,” he agreed. “I wish you were going to marry me. I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you. I don’t know what I’m going to do once you’re gone, living in New East Anglia.”

“I don’t want to live there,” Ava said softly. “I want to live with you.”

He brushed her hair away from the back of her neck, ran his tongue gently over her skin, and placed a row of gentle kisses along her neck. She leaned back against him. He fumbled beneath the unlaced front of her shirt. The two slid off the bench into the yielding stems of the ornamental grasses.

After their dinner meeting, Gráinne Most Revered and Nell strolled through the gardens. Occasionally one of them said something referring to their earlier discussion, but mostly they walked quietly meditating on the sights and sounds of the gardens. Hearing the noises made by the two lovers, the magi stopped, scrutinized them while hidden behind another stand of ornamental grass, and then met each other’s eyes in approval. Together they tiptoed back to the Citadel. Another novitiate was sent to rope in the ancient, wealthy, perverted baron, and Ava O’Connor was catapulted onto the path of becoming a future Most Revered.

Present Day

Ava laughed to herself and announced, “Enough is enough.” She pushed herself to her feet. Clasping her bracelets, she twisted their center rings in opposite directions.

Several floors above her, where Holy King Harrison still sat on his bespoke throne chair, lines of Holy Lightning ringed the horns closest to the king’s neck, and then traveled up his spine. Almost immediately he lapsed into unconsciousness, tilting so far forward that servants rushed onto the dais to keep him from crashing to the floor. As they settled the king back onto his throne chair, one of the horns punctured a servant’s arm. The man gasped for air as froth bubbled from the corner of his mouth. Instinctively, his hand flew up to grab the wound on his arm, but instead, he crumpled to the floor dead.

The Commander of the Kings Guards stared at the servant, assessed the king, and then ran from the throne room. He took the stone steps to the dungeons two at a time, not slowing until he was in front of the Most Revered’s cell.

“He’s unconscious,” the commander spat out anxiously. “The king, he’s unconscious.”

“Now?” the Most Revered said, feigning surprise and sincerity. “I only just left him.”

“Yes, yes, now,” the commander gushed. “You have to come back upstairs. Someone has to take control of the situation. A servant was poisoned by one of the horns.”

“I could have prevented that,” the Most Revered continued, her voice oozing concern. She paused as if weighing her options. “I don’t know.” She raised, and then dropped her hand emphatically and let her eyes sparkle in the dim light. “You’re right. King and country need me.”

The commander dashed down the dungeon passageway to the gaoler’s chamber and demanded the key to the Most Revered’s cell. An urgent discussion ensued, and then the gaoler and the commander hurried to unlock the cell.

“Most Revered,” Command of the Kings Guards said bowing. “Thank you deeply for putting this misunderstanding to one side and coming to the king’s aid.”

“It’s my duty,” the Most Revered said firmly. “Just as you must set aside personal affronts and emotions to do your duty, I have to, also.”

“Speaking of my…my duty,” the commander stammered. “When His Majesty has recovered, I may have to return you to your cell. Unless he revokes the charges, which of course, he may well do, given how you’ve helped him.”

“Don’t worry, Commander,” the Most Revered lied smoothly. “If it comes to pass that His Majesty remains upset about our misunderstanding, I will submit myself into your custody again without giving you any problems.”

“Thank you, Most Revered,” the commander breathed gratefully. “Thank you.”

The Most Revered smiled at the Commander of the Kings Guards as he offered her his arm and then escorted her to the throne room and the bespoke chair still containing the coma-stricken king.

Later that night, after overseeing the care of Holy King Harrison as the monarch was transported to the royal residence, Ava lounged in her private chambers in the resplendent Tara Citadel with the most current Journal of the Most Revered on the table beside her, ready for her to impart the day’s events. The Courtyard between Tara Citadel and the Castle was originally the launching and landing platform for the Mothership from Earth, and over the centuries the two buildings had been redesigned to be fortresses. Ava believed that Tara Citadel was the most beautiful religious building on Terra Saint Edmunds. Although Ava had not traveled to see other countries’ cathedrals, she was confident that nothing anywhere else would compare. The tall, leaded windows on either side of the Mothership Window allowed the magnificent colors of the Second Sunset to kaleidoscope into the room. She rose and strolled onto the balcony overlooking the Great Hall. The Mothership Window was dark. Once Second Sun had completely disappeared, the Constellation of the Lost Seaman would appear, centered in the portal window, and Ava would be able to use the Seaman’s cap to locate Earth in the night sky.

By tradition, the journals of the Most Revered chronicled all events in the life of the magi, from daily routines such as the recipe for making the polish used on the Great Hall floor, the best methods to force-feed a political prisoner, and even how to measure the pros and cons of every prince about to endure the Ritual. One of the first events Ava researched when she gained access to the journals was how Beathas destroyed the Mothership.

THREE HUNDRED SEVENTY-FOUR YEARS EARLIER

Smoke plumed into a long tail behind the Mothership's launch rocket. Beathas Most Revered shaded her eyes and squinted toward the sky. She wasn't certain. She had no experience with such things, but she had expected the Mothership's lift-off to fail and was genuinely surprised when it became airborne.

Beathas had taken precautions to guard the safety of Scientist Mackey and her equipment. Mackey wanted to remain behind to continue her experiments with the Insubstantiation Process, so Beathas had secured the scientist, her notes, her equipment, and her assistant deep in the Citadel vault. It was a dungeon really, but the term vault seemed less oppressive and more protective. Mackey would survive because Beathas needed her.

A gasp from the priests and novitiates caught Beathas' attention. Screams erupted from the citizens of Hilltown who had gathered to jeer at the Earth’s military who were deserting them. Overhead, the Mothership erupted into an intense ball of orange and red flames, billowing plumes of smoke. Pieces of the ship plummeted toward the city. Soldiers, crew, and passengers aboard the Mothership were catapulted downward, many burning alive as they fell.

The loss to the magi was negligible. The Citadel avoided damage, although a portion of a castle wall was hit by sections of the Mothership. Several citizens on the ground were crushed, but since none of the novitiates or priests were hurt, the loss was acceptable. Beathas wondered whether she had used too great a quantity of explosives or prepared the explosives to detonate at the incorrect time. She did not dwell on finding answers, however, since she had used all the explosives that could be found in Hilltown and the surrounding countryside and she would never be able to duplicate the process. All the lives lost were either people who would never have returned to Midhe Nuae or ones who didn’t matter anyway.

The Mothership's portal window had fallen, miraculously unbroken, into the treacherous gorefish moat. She would force honored volunteers into the water to retrieve it. Some of them would be eaten by the carnivores. Some would drown. But recovering the priceless Mothership Window would be worth it. She would get them started this afternoon. Right now she had to make an appearance to show the people that they are all united in their pain and grief during this time of unspeakable tragedy.

PRESENT DAY

Beathas’ actions had been meant as an offensive maneuver to punish Earth’s military for abandoning them, but her miscalculation lost everything. Ava was reluctant to make that same type of mistake with Harrison and his sons, but she still strived to live up to Beathas’ willingness to act. For instance, the journal recorded that as soon as Scientist Mackey had reassembled her equipment and taught the magi the Insubstantiation Process, Scientist Mackey was fed to the Prince Eaters.

Below Ava’s balcony, a group of novitiates scrubbed the marble floor of the Great Hall. When one of them noticed the Most Revered and told the others that she was there, Ava raised her hand in a blessing, and then pointed to the Mothership Window, drawing their attention to the newly risen Constellation of the Lost Seaman.

©2022 Vera S. Scott