Excessica Anthology BOX SET Winter (105 page)

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After
an uneasy sleep, Kestra watched from a balcony as the early rays of dawn began
to reveal the spires and rooftops of Kropolis. Dowena and Zenna still slumbered
as Kestra watched the old city come to life as people and carts began to move
and markets opened for the day. She envied her handmaidens for still having
their inner peace as they did not know there was danger on the horizon. Yet
inside she was still in turmoil over her visions.
I am the Princess of
Sarcon, my father’s daughter, not some timid farmer’s daughter. Why am I so
filled with fear at these foolish visions? No matter what the truth is, I must
be strong for father, not a weak burden he has to bear.

Kestra
was wiping tears away when Zenna appeared behind her. “My lady, are you
troubled again by your dreams? How may I comfort you?” The emotion behind the
handmaiden’s words was heartfelt and Kestra knew she wanted to relieve her
burden on Zenna.

“If
you saw a terrible vision, Zenna, something which you felt could not be true,
would you fear it and run or would you face it bravely?” Kestra’s words were
just above a soft whisper so as not to be heard if Dowena was awake.

Zenna
paused for a moment to consider, but her consideration was brief. “Tis of no
import what I would do, Mistress, for I am but a loyal servant. Yet what I do
know is my lady, my Princess, she would not fear for her father’s blood runs
through her veins.”

Kestra
smiled at Zenna’s reaffirming answer and she hugged her loyal servant, but she
had one more question for Zenna. “Well spoken, Zenna, but I would ask you
another question. If your princess were to face danger with her head held high,
would you be at her side even if she was going to enter the gates of hell?”
Kestra knew part of her strength rested in the loyalty and company of her two
closest friends. If they stood with her she could imagine herself facing any
danger.

Zenna
took even less time to consider her answer. “I was sworn to your service,
Princess, and I will be forever at your side. Only my death will still my feet
from following yours.” Zenna’s voice was choked with pure emotion and Kestra
knew she had her answer.

“Then
there is nothing to fear. Go and wake Dowena and we shall dress for the council
meeting. Do not be frightened.” Kestra reached out and wiped the tears from
Zenna’s eyes. Zenna hurried off to wake her fellow servant, but as Kestra
looked down she saw her hand was shaking like Augustus.
Now I must be strong
for them as well as father.

* *
* *

After
the huge wooden doors of the council hall were pulled open by four burly
guards, Kestra and her entourage made their way down the long, dimly-lit,
corridor toward the inner sanctum where the king and the entire council would
be gathered. Beside Kestra walked Taylar and flanking the couple were Kestra’s
handmaidens each maintaining a pace which kept them the requisite few paces
behind. When they reached the door to the inner sanctum, two armed guards bowed
to the Princess and pulled the doors open. Kestra stepped forward to enter, but
one of the guards raised his hand to bar Taylar and the servants, as they were
not members of the council or the royal family.

Kestra
knew this and knew she could not change Sarconian law as much as she might wish
to. She turned to Taylar, Dowena, and Zenna and spoke quietly. “Wait for me
here. I don’t know how long this will take, but I’ll want to see you all when I
return.” All three bowed their heads signifying they would obey her.

The
first guard now signaled the second who stood on the threshold of the council
chamber. The second guard bellowed an introduction of Kestra. “All rise for
Princess Kestra, heir to the throne of Sarcon.”

When
the guard was done Kestra slipped by his girth and followed a path between rows
of seats. Initially the light was dim, but Kestra found it grew as she got
closer to the center of the room. As the council chamber was built like an
amphitheater, Kestra found herself descending to the center of the room where
she finally beheld a smiling face, the one she had so much wanted to see.

Beneath
his bejeweled silver crown, King Valla sat on his throne on the raised platform
in the center of the huge room. Kestra noted her father’s gray beard had grown
grayer and his face looked more tired than she had ever seen it. Was he already
under some tremendous burden?

 Kestra
hurried up the steps of the platform to hug and kiss her father before she sat
in the somewhat smaller throne chair to his right, the very one her mother had
once sat in. At first she couldn’t help but feel excited as she took her first
look at the faces of the assembled Council of Sarcon. The council was three
hundred and fifty two of the finest scholars and leaders in Sarcon chosen not
for their thirst for political power, but solely for their desire to serve and
advise their King. Kestra was at first mesmerized by the many faces, all mixed
by age, race, and gender so no one category predominated, but her eyes finally worked
their way back down to the royal platform where she noticed a large painting
supported by a tall easel in the front corner of the royal platform.

What
Kestra saw in the painting made her freeze with fear and brought back to the
surface the terror of two nights past. There in front of her was a replica of
the scaly black face and those glowing red eyes. The parchment of the painting
looked old, but there were two words painted under the grim countenance. “The
Tarsus.”

No,
it can’t be true.
The Princess of Sarcon sat on her throne in sheer terror
as she stared at a painting of a creature she had denied the existence of.
Kestra felt a cold fear crawling all over her as her worst nightmare seemed to
be taking shape.

* *
* *

Her
father seemed to notice her anxiety and he reached out his hand to grasp hers.
“Thank you for coming, Kestra. It is time you knew all which awaits you so you
can decide.” From Valla’s eye came a single tear which ran down his face which
alarmed Kestra for she had never seen her father cry.

“What
is it, father? Is something wrong? Are we in danger?” Kestra’s apprehension was
spiking from her father’s actions and the painting.

“Listen,
Kestra, this meeting is solely to inform you and answer all the questions we
can.” Slowly Valla got up from his throne and the assembled councilors rose
too. Kestra rose and ran into her father’s always sheltering arms to the
audible sighs and murmurs of the council. It seemed to Kestra everyone in this
chamber knew something she did not.

As
he held her in his arms her father spoke with pained hesitation. “I would have
spared you this had your mother not died so young. If we’d had a son, I would
have removed you from the succession for your safety as well as Sarcon, but now
you must be told of the ancient prophecy and the decision must be yours.”

At
first Kestra was in shock at her father’s words.
Why would he make a younger
brother king over me? Doesn’t he trust me to rule this land?
It seemed to
Kestra her father did not believe in her.

“Father,
I can be as strong as any son. Do not forsake me, please!” Kestra’s plea set
the council to chattering until the King bellowed out a command.

“Silence.
Neval, come forth and explain the prophecy to my daughter.” At Valla’s command
the room fell silent and an old councilor with a long white beard began to walk
towards the front.

The
King took Kestra’s hand. “Listen to Neval. He will explain what has been kept
from you.” Valla squeezed his daughter’s hand as they again sat on their
thrones and Kestra focused her attention on this old man.

The
old councilor moved slowly to the ancient painting and finally when he was
there he began. “This painting was discovered in a deep cavern about four
hundred years ago before Sarcon was united. We think it was the property of the
oldest tribe, the First People. We do not know how old it is, nor do we know
who painted it, but it is the only evidence we have of those called the Tarsus
who are referred to in our ancient texts. This reference is known only to a few
as it has been kept a closely guarded secret for hundreds of years.” Neval
paused and Kestra nodded her understanding so far. She knew what the ancient
texts were. More or less they were Sarcon’s connection with her distant past, a
huge book which contained the writings of many scholars and historians from the
very beginning of Sarconian civilization when the inhabitants were a small,
primitive tribe of savages. Many of the passages were taught to school children
and read by everyone, but the passage Neval referred to had been suppressed for
some reason.

“The
passage I speak of is the very first passage of the texts and I shall read you
the passage as it is written, my lady.” Neval’s words indicated to Kestra
something was wrong for she, like all other Sarconians, felt she knew the first
passage well. It was a sort of Adam and Eve story written by an unknown first
chronicler of Sarcon.

“But,
sir, I know the first passage of the text. We all do. Any child could tell you
of it.” Kestra questioned the ancient scholar.

Neval
stood at the lectern and he paused before he opened the huge book laid out
before him. “Princess, what you know as the first passage is actually the
second. What I read to you now is the true first passage.” Neval opened the
cover of the massive volume and began to read. “They shall go forth, our
seedlings, and they shall grow and multiply in this chosen place. They will
live peacefully, doing as they will for generations, until the Tarsus returns
to claim what is and always was theirs. When a Queen rules the land the Tarsus
will return.” Neval closed the book softly and turned to Kestra. “I will be
glad to answer any of your questions to the best of my ability.”

Kestra
was indeed filled with questions, so many she had to sort them out. Her first
thought revolved around a story she had heard. “So is this why Princess Sophia
was judged incompetent?” Sophia was the eldest child of Anthese, First King of
Sarcon, and she had been found to be mentally unbalanced and thus she was
removed from the succession. Rumors had circulated for generations saying she
was quite competent and her removal was for other reasons.

Neval
seemed unsure as to how to respond, but Valla did not hesitate to clear the
air. “Anthese’s heart was in the right place if his sense of right was a bit
skewed. I won’t judge him for what he did for I too had thoughts of remarrying
and producing a son to rule for you, Kestra. I won’t condemn a king for being
overzealous in protecting his daughter and perhaps his world.” Valla looked at
his daughter with tears in his eyes. “Perhaps I am foolish for not doing as
Anthese did.”

Her
father’s admission seemed to make it clear in Kestra’s head as to the
seriousness of this matter. “But you didn’t, father, does that mean?”

“Just
as you think it means, my dear. It will be your decision if you wish to assume
the obvious risk and rule Sarcon as her first Queen.” Valla squeezed Kestra’s
hand tightly to empathize how much he believed in her. “If you take up the
challenge you will be a magnificent Queen.”

Kestra
leaned over the arms of their throne chairs to hug her father like never
before, clinging to his gaunt frame as if it gave her strength. After the hug
Kestra gathered herself and looked at Neval in a new light. He was now her best
resource on the Tarsus and what this prophecy meant. “Neval, why should I fear
ascending the throne and perhaps bringing about the return of these creatures?”

Neval’s
face looked dour as he responded. “Princess, all we know of the Tarsus is what
the painting shows us, their physical appearance, and what the passage hints
at. Let me apply some logic to what it says. It refers to us as seedlings
saying how they own us and always have and they will come to reclaim what they
planted. This speaks of our people as if they are a crop to be harvested, as a
wagon load of chakka roots might be to us. It’s not certain, but those who
harvest usually use what they harvest for their own purposes and have little
concern for the harvested. We have no idea what their need for us is.”

Kestra
immediately thought of the hundreds of different plants and animals the people
of Sarcon harvested to survive. Most were eaten, or used in toil for the good
of her people. Neval was right, the passage did make the coming of the Tarsus
sound sinister, but was it?

“So
if we do not know their purpose it could be beneficial to us, not dangerous,
right?” Kestra was hoping for a mere admission from the scholar.

“It’s
possible, Princess, but seemingly unlikely.” Neval maintained his dour face so
Kestra tried to shift her focus.

“Why
should I believe this passage is real and not the ramblings of an insane
chronicler?” Kestra was looking for any reason to discount the prophecy.

Neval
motioned from behind the lectern for Kestra to come forth. “Come up and see the
passage for yourself, Princess. The evidence is best seen to be believed.”

Kestra
thought this strange, but she rose and moved to the lectern. When she looked
down at the open book she saw the cover and all the pages save one looked the
same, as in they were old, yellowed parchment which had been written long ago.
Yet this first page, the one Neval had read the passage off, seemed new, crisp,
and white. As she looked closer she saw how the words of the passage glowed
red, just like the eyes of the reptilian man on the painting. The glowing
script was of Sarconian style and language, but as Kestra touched the page she
felt something strangely alien. The page itself felt warm as if it was alive.
Neval leaned in and took hold of the page and tried to tear it, but as Kestra
watched she saw all his might could not rip the page.