Gods Save The Queen: Book 5 - Yuletide

Gods Save the Queen

Book 5 - Yuletide

Created and written by Duleigh

Edited by KMaz317

Introduction

Gods Save the Queen Book 5 – Yuletide

Three millennia ago, the ruling wizards of Kodu gathered together to standardize the calendars on the planet of Kodu. Not only did each continent have a calendar, but each elf clan also had their own calendar. It was nearly impossible to coordinate events between kingdoms if they didn’t share the same calendar. Many elf clans were hesitant to change because their calendars were in the year seven thousand or higher and they didn’t want to lose that.

Arguments raged for years, until the wizards mentioned that things were happening in the skies that should not be happening. Namely the planet Zigu was clearly visible to the naked eye and was growing larger. Then strange people appeared on Kodu. They just walked into villages and towns and announced their presence. They called themselves “Aesteans” which was close to the elven word “Asteus” which means “God.”

The gods told of untold calamity ahead and what was worse, the wizards, whose primary task was viewing the stars, all agreed with the gods. They weren’t sure what was coming, just that it was going to be bad. The gods urged the elves to build underground fortresses and most scoffed at the visitors, but the gods meant business. They created dwarves and demi-giants to start digging and clear the rubble. They also created gnomes and fairies to help with life underground.

Then the first boulders began to fall from the sky. The huge planet Zigu was pulled off its orbit outside of Kodu, when the rogue moon Gion 01 slammed into the huge, rocky planet, driving it into an orbit inside of Kodu. Debris from this collision showered down on Kodu, shattering the crystal cities of the elves. Then, after Zigu had passed inside of Kodu, the moon Hiphus was struck by Zigu’s largest moon, Aestea, shattering both moons and creating years of falling debris that destroyed every elven city.

Then, after years of pounding, the major destruction stopped. Kodu was cocked on its axis with the northern hemisphere tilted toward the sun Thaal creating a burning wasteland north of the equator. As the elves emerged from their underground shelters, so did a smaller race known as the humans. While the elves were heartbroken over their loss of everything, the humans dug in and began to create their own cities. They allied with the dwarves and demi-giants and soon, population centers sprang up all over Kodu.

The last Ergonian Elf King, Elandorr Cailee, known to all as “The Wolf” because of his aggressive style of leadership, addressed anyone that would listen. He urged all to work together to rebuild Kodu, and he urged all to use the new calendar created by the wizards. He traveled all over the planet, helping those in need, and spreading the word of the new calendar.

Wizards are notoriously lazy. Why lift that book if you have magic to lift it for you? That explains the calendar they created. The Kodu year is 352 days in length, so they created a calendar of twelve months that were twenty-eight-days long. Each month had four weeks of seven days, leaving sixteen days left over. The remaining sixteen days were lumped into a semi-month at the end of the year and they named it Yule after ancient elven traditions. The winter solstice occurred then, as did the New Year. If a correction was needed to add or subtract a day to keep the calendar on time with the solar system, the day could be added or subtracted from Yule. The first week of Yule ended in a celebration called Yuletide, the celebration of the end of the Starfall, of escaping the underground shelters and reunions with loved ones. For over three-thousand years the calendar has been kept and Yuletide has been a celebration of miracles.

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Chapter 01 - The Twins

Mystara 27, 3438

Elm Springs, Uduithia

“Marlon!” Octavia called for the fourth time. The pregnant wizard shook her head, muttering, “where is that boy?”

“You should be calling for Annette,” said Izhar. He was right, she should be calling for Annette. The little blond and Marlon were never apart, and Annette came running whenever she was called. Finally, six-year-old Marlon Stein came running to the tiny witch’s cottage they called home. His hair was soaking wet and water glistened on his face, arms, and legs, but his clothes were dry. She was sure her son had been swimming. Tiny five-year-old Annette followed. Her long, golden-blond hair was soaked, but her pretty gingham dress was dry. “You two were in the pond again.”

“We were fishing for dinner, and it got so hot!” said Marlon.

Octavia nodded. There was no deceit in his words, but she had a feeling he wasn’t telling the entire truth. “Where’s your sister?”

Marlon looked around and saw his four-year-old sister, Holly, crouching among a flock of scratching chickens. “She’s talking to the chickens again.” He watched as a chicken stopped scratching, faced tiny Holly, and began clucking. Holly was a born witch like her father, but their dad, Nick, rarely if ever conversed with any animal other than his mules.

“Hitch the wagon to Bongo and take water to your dad and the boys,” said Octavia. “They’re pitching hay today, and they’re going to need their water.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“And make it cold water!”

“Yes, Mom!” The two children ran off to the barn to get the wagon.

Octavia placed her hand on her distended stomach and huffed. Izhar, her assistant wizard, pointed to the love seat inside the cottage. “I’ll take care of Hollie, you go sit and put your feet up,” said Izhar with a scolding tone.

“Please don’t make fun of her, she likes those chickens.”

“I will. I’ve watched over children before. Now go sit and open a good book.” Izhar worried about that wizard. She was so powerful, but soon she would be in for a trial like she’s never experienced.

While Izhar and Hollie talked to the chickens, Marlon and Annette emerged from the barn with Marlon’s donkey Bongo hitched to a small four-wheel wagon that was filled with a half dozen tin water jugs. They pulled up to the well pump and played a quick game of Rock-Paper-Scissors to see who would pump the water. Marlon claimed his mom enchanted the well pump, which she did, but in truth, it was an artesian well, and you only had to lift the handle for water to flow. Her enchantment caused the water to come out hot or cold and that was determined by a twist of the well handle.

As usual, Annette won the game and got to operate the pump, which means Marlon had to carry the empty water cans to the well, then haul the filled cans to the wagon. The cans were smaller versions of milk cans and had lids. They were almost magic because the water they held remained cool and refreshing for hours without magic. The cans were made by their farm manager Wayne Metsker, who was also an excellent blacksmith. When the town blacksmith, Wayne’s father Trei, has too much business, he’ll send customers up to the farm to see if Wayne has the time to serve their needs.

With the wagon loaded with six cans of ice-cold water, Marlon and Annette led Bongo out to the field where three huge men were pitching hay from a huge pile onto a hay wagon. Further off in the field they could see Wayne with a mule and a hay rake raking up the sun-dried hay into piles. They pulled up to the three demi-giants and Marlon bowed to them. “Good morning, Mister Alfie, Mister Bert, Mister Dexter.”

“Good morning to you, yer lordship,” said Alfie as the three demi-giants bowed to Marlon. The young boy had a special place in the hearts of the huge men. His middle name, Jehans, honors a demi-giant who died in the Battle of Breaze. Jehans Du Gouey was a close, personal friend of Duke Nicholas, and was the first Sergeant of the Breaze Royal Guard when Nicholas was the commander. Jehans died fighting to allow Marlon’s father to carry the queen to safety. Now Marlon is the son of that queen and the man who carried her to safety.

Additionally, Marlon has the courtesy title of Marquess of Black Mountain, which doesn’t mean much, but it sounds regal. He does have legal authority over the rule of Black Mountain, but his parents haven’t revealed any of that yet. He’s still learning how to read.

Marlon looked around, trying to see his father. The morning was very warm and the air was hazy but he could see the entire hay field. Being a farm in the mountains, the only truly level portion of the farm was the area around the house, barn, pond, and pasture. Everything else was on an incline of some degree, so if you situated yourself correctly, you could see the entire farm. “Where’s dad?”

“The professor was feeling good, so he wanted to do some fishing. They’re up at the duke’s secret fishing spot.”

“Ok, thanks, Alfie.” Marlon turned and helped Annette unstrap the wagon from Bongo, leaving the wagon and water cans there for the men to refresh themselves. Then Marlon boosted Annette onto the back of Bongo where Annette rode sidesaddle.

“Hi, Mister Metsker!” called Annette as they walked through the hay field and Wayne rode past on the mule-drawn hay rake. Wayne chuckled and returned the wave. “Those two kids,” Wayne muttered and shook his head. It was rare to see Marlon and Annette apart. They were always together, and when they were apart, they were both morose and silent until their joyful reunion.

Marlon and Annette headed up the mountain. Above them towered Black Mountain, known to the elves as Morna Oran. The massive mountain was home to dozens of species of elk, deer, mountain goats, longhorned sheep, and not a few mountain lions. Beneath the rocky flesh of the mountain were entire abandoned cities, even an underground palace; and it’s all owned by Marlon’s dad, Sir Nicholas Stein, the Duke of Wægn.

Nick’s secret fishing spot wasn’t a secret to anyone. It was a twenty-minute hike up the main road: then turn right at the rock with the odd dwarven carvings and follow the wagon trail through the woods to the stream. As Marlon, Annette, and Bongo approached the stream, a royal guard cried, “Halt! Who goes there?”

“Uncle Sloan!” scolded Annette. “You know me.”

“Sorry, my lady, but it’s part of the job.”

“Is the king here?”

“I can’t say that. You should know the rules.” Sloan Sidwell was a big, strong, brutally honest palace guard, and somehow Annette grew up calling him “uncle.” Both of her parents were born and raised way up north in Breaze, and Sloan was from the southern city of Torwin-Armistad, so the young girl could never figure out how he was her uncle. She decided that it must be a cop thing. Both of her parents were police officers, and Uncle Sloan was a royal guardsman, which was like police. She hopped off Bongo and walked up to Sloan and peered into his eyes… deeply…

“Ha! I knew it!” She turned back to Marlon, took his hand, and said, “Let’s go.”

“What did you know?” asked the confused boy as they led Bongo down the forest path.

“He’s a werewolf. You can always see it in their eyes.”

“Are all werewolves related?”

“No, but my mom’s family is huge.” Her mother was a member of the mysterious von Reichenbach family, the ruling family in Elbreshowth on the Moor. More accurately, they were the ruling family above ground. In Elbreshowth on the Moor, there’s also a huge population of dwarves who have many underground cities.

They walked through the trees and found themselves at the stream. The king’s carriage was parked in the shade of a maple tree, along with another guard. Nearby, fishing in the stream, was the King of Uduithia and Marlon’s father, the Duke of Wægn. Seated on a wooden bench under a spreading beech tree was the man that Marlon and Annette called grandpa, Doctor Tidor Dhukonn. He was the man who helped Marlon’s mom, Octavia, become the only female wizard on Kodu. He really wasn’t Marlon’s grandpa, any more than Sloan was Annette’s uncle, but there was some kind of relationship that Marlon wasn’t aware of. Marlon led Bongo over to the king’s carriage where the little donkey and the big black mare helped clip the grass from the path under the trees.

“How’s the fishing, Grandpa?”

Professor Dhukonn didn’t open his eyes; he just held his finger to his lips. “Shhh, you’ll scare the fish away.” It was clear that Professor Dhukonn liked the mystique and atmosphere of fishing better than the actual catching of the fish. His pole was leaning against the tree and Marlon checked his creel. There was two nice fat trout in the damp leaves.

“Can I use your pole, grandpa?”

“Go, enjoy. Just don’t scare the fish.”

Marlon grabbed the Professor’s cane pole and creel, then he and Annette dashed downstream. His dad’s secret fishing spot was fair, but he picked it because it was comfortable: nice shady trees with the branches trimmed back nice and high, easy to get to, fairly level, soft ground to stand on, or even nap on. However, Annette found the mother lode of trout. Further downstream just past some shallow rapids was a pool with enough current where the trout could just rest with their mouths open and let the current wash over their gills. And if a delicious fly should drift by, it was snack time.

Marlon and Annette were able to catch two more plump trout for the Professor’s creel when Annette dropped to her knees, clapped her hands to her temples, and cried, “Momma!”

“Are you well?” gasped Marlon. He bolted to Annette’s side and put a hand on her forehead like his mother does when he’s not feeling well.

“Momma wants Poppa,” gasped the tiny girl. Momma and Poppa are what Marlon’s parents call each other and Annette’s magical nature allowed her to hear Duchess Octavia’s silent conversations with Duke Nicholas when Octavia was scared or in pain. Marlon helped Annette to her feet and the youngsters sprinted back to where Duke Stein was fishing with the king and Professor Dhukonn.

Duke Stein was packing up his gear and making apologies; he also heard the call from the duchess. When he saw his son approaching, Nick said, “Can you stay with His Majesty and Professor Dhukonn? Your mother needs me.”

“Take me!” said Annette. “Lady Octavia said I could be there!”

Duke Stein crouched down and said, “Get on my back and hold on tight.” Annette threw her hands around Nick’s neck and squealed as he stood and sprinted down the narrow path. The young girl could feel him change underneath her. His neck grew longer and stouter, his body grew wider. He was running on all fours as he became midnight black and was covered with short hair. Annette cried out with excitement as they galloped through the woods. She grabbed two fistfuls of his mane, laughing in delight; the Duke was now a proud stallion. They burst out of the woods and onto the main road and Nick began to gallop even faster.

“Faster!” cried Annette with a laugh. “Faster!” and Nick raced down the mountain. That’s when Annette saw his wings unfurling. “Tianma!” she shrieked in delight. “I’m riding a tianma!” The huge wings caught air and the ride became smoother as they were lifted off the road and above the trees. Nick didn’t have to flap his wings; it was all downhill, all he had to do was stay above the treetops. He dove for the cottage where his wife waited, the treetops brushing against his hooves. Annette was breathless in excitement; she was actually riding a tianma! A black tianma, the fastest kind there was!

It seemed to her like they were going to crash into the house, but at the last moment, Nick leaned back with those huge wings catching the air, slowing them down to a near stop like a hawk eyeing its prey from on high, and with a jolt his hooves were on the ground. Nick crouched and checked to see if Annette was well after that flight, but he quickly realized that he needn’t have worried about the tiny girl. She was as tough as her mother, Detective Sergeant Annabelle Prescott. “You may join, but your job is to observe, learn, and keep Hollie quiet. The duchess is going to have a hard time; she doesn’t need to hear Hollie crying.” Four-year-old Hollie Stein was a typical four-year-old if not a bit more emotional. She was a born witch and showed some interesting peculiarities, like conversing with the rabbits and chickens on the farm.

“I will, sir.”

As they entered the cottage, several more witches arrived, some on a broomstick, others in carriages (a true witch would never ride atop another creature!) There was Nick’s cousin Bella McTavish, who was gaining seniority quickly in the witching community. Seldanna of the Rofir also arrived; she was an elf witch in the elf village of Irla Stein Anore. Tilly Potts, another young witch from over in Deasil, arrived. Even Silver Metsker, Wayne’s wife, arrived. Silver wants to be a witch, but she doesn’t have the magical aptitude. That doesn’t stop her from learning medicine and herbology.

When the word went out that the duchess was in labor, several women who were not witches also arrived. Silver’s sisters-in-law, Darina Ivers and Ena McCrory, arrived, and the only other twins in Hay-on-Wægn County, Lynet and Guendolen Borson arrived to welcome the new set of twins. The Borson girls were the first twins that Nick ever delivered as the new witch in the area, and only the third birth he ever attended. Guendolen was stillborn and Nick was able to revive her, and that act of mercy cemented his position as the witch of Hay-on-Wægn County.

Octavia was reclining on the couch that once served her as a throne when she was empress of the Xuantang empire six years ago. Nick had moved the couch into the center of the room and Octavia was resting between contractions. Nick was lecturing his fellow witches, many of whom had never seen a twin birth. “It’s really not unlike a single birth, the mother’s body knows when it’s time for the babies to get out, it just happens a bit earlier than a single birth. Since the babies will be less developed than in a single birth, much care must be given to the infants and the mother. If the mother isn’t able to nurse, a wet nurse must be on hand. If none are available, then I suggest warmed, whole goat’s milk. If no goat is available, then give the babies fresh, warmed whole cow’s milk.”

Hollie was wandering around confused. She knew something was happening with her mother and she didn’t understand. Then a heavily accented woman’s voice said, “Come stay with me. We’ll be in charge of the babies’ bath. Won’t that be nice?” Hollie looked up and saw Hau Chung Ning, mother of the Emperor of the Xuantang Empire. Auntie Ning. Hollie smiled and nodded; Auntie Ning always brought the best snacks from the palace kitchens.

“Thank you, dear lady,” said Izhar who was being ignored by his chicken-talking buddy, Hollie.

Unlike the sturdy women of Uduithia, Hau Chung Ning was short and slender with raven black hair and chestnut-brown almond-shape brown almond shaped eyes. She didn’t wear flannel, linen, or wool like the women of Uduithia; she wore brightly colored, figure-hugging silk dresses with golden pins and clips in her thick, straight hair. Hollie liked her because Auntie Ning had the same color hair as her mother, midnight black, and that was proof enough that she was worthy of the title of Auntie.

The witches were clustered around Octavia and the little girls couldn’t see what was happening. Silver Metsker turned to Annette and said, “It’s hot in here. Can you girls open windows and doors?”

“The bugs will get in!” said Annette.

“The fairies will catch them. Now hurry, Miss Octavia is getting over-heated. You need to help her.”

“I will!” cried both girls and they dashed around the house opening windows and doors. When they opened the front windows that looked over the front porch and garden, six fairies fluttered into the house to join the six already in there.

“You’re doing great, darling,” said Nick. “You are so wonderful.”

“I wish I could just magic them out,” panted an exhausted Octavia.

Nick crouched next to Octavia and gave her a kiss, then mopped her damp brow. They both knew that magic wouldn’t work here. For some reason, as her pregnancies progressed, her desire to use magic faded until it was a memory, but immediately after delivery, it came back vigorously. When she gave birth to Marlon in a bamboo jungle, she created a cottage out of bamboo trees for a place to rest and recuperate. Shortly after Hollie was born she magically filled the house with cookies and pastries because she was hungry. Nick was naturally concerned about what she would do after giving birth to twins. “Are you ready? We’re almost done.”

“My leg!” cried Octavia. “Put my leg back on! I don’t want my babies to see me with only one leg.” She genuinely looked panicked, worse than when she lost her left leg.

Nick looked around and couldn’t see it. “Where is Octavia’s leg?”

Everyone there began looking around but it was nowhere to be seen. Then Annette had an idea. She asked Hollie, “Have you seen your mommy’s leg?” The four-year-old girl nodded and led Annette to the back porch where everyone took off their work boots before entering the house. There with the work boots was Octavia’s wooden leg. “Did you put mommy’s leg away?”

“Uh-huh!” said Hollie proudly.

Annette picked up the leg and asked, “Where’s Mommy’s sock?”

Hollie dashed into the house where there in the laundry hamper was the thick cushioned sock that goes over mommy’s leg stump. Annette crouched down and gave Hollie a hug. “You are such a good girl. Here, give this to daddy so he can put mommy’s leg back on.”

“Uh-huh!” and the tyke zipped through the crowd of witches and handed Nick the sock. Six years ago, at the battle of Waelmore Castle, Octavia’s lower left leg was gnawed to the bone by a basilisk when Neth Skelm sent her and many other supporters of the king to Põrgu Saar, the land of nightmares. Many died, including the king’s two sons, Exavier and Abraam. Octavia once had perfect legs, legs Nick came to love having wrapped around his waist at the appropriate moment; now both were slashed and scarred. Her lovely face was also horribly slashed, but it was back to perfection after years of magic to heal the scars. The only remaining evidence of her facial injury was a violet left eye and an azure-blue right eye.

Nick quickly put the sock over her stump, then belted the wooden leg back into place in time for Octavia to let out a terrible scream. “Here it comes; it’s got Mommy’s hair…” called Nick as the baby slowly appeared. Next to him stood his cousin Bella who was ready to help. She had the string ready to tie off the umbilical, along with the snippers. “It’s a boy!” called Nick. He was stunned; they had expected two girls. They quickly cleaned him off and, as he cried, Nick named him Llywellyn, after the historic elf warrior Llywellyn Olomyar who helped drive Neth Skelm off of Kodu thirty-five centuries ago.

Bella took Nick’s place as he and Octavia got to know their baby, then Nick took the baby over to the pan of warm water where Silver Metsker and the girls waited. “That’s your brother, Hollie. His name is Llywellyn.”

Hollie struggled with the proud, ancient elf name and finally said, “Lou!”

“That’s a good name, Hollie,” said Silver Metsker. “Now you have two brothers.” That confused Hollie. In her world, brothers were older. Now there’s a brother that’s little? While Hollie got used to the idea of a little brother, Silver dried off Lou. At the same time, they heard a second baby give its first cry.

“Your daughter wants a name, Sir Nicholas!” called Bella McTavish.

There was only one name that would work. “Llywella!” cried Nick. Llywella Olomyar was Llywellyn’s twin sister and she helped rebuild the nations of Kodu after Neth Skelm left Kodu in ruins. “Mommy and I made sure you never have to live up to your namesakes,” said Nick as Octavia cuddled both babies. “What would you like, darling?” asked Nick after giving Octavia a kiss.

Octavia looked exhausted but happy, but her features turned sorrowful. “I want my mother.” As she hugged her babies, she began to weep, and she used her magic.

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Chapter 02 - The Eighth

Luminex 28, 3409

Pirangi, Kingdom of Chelmsford

Life was wonderful for Jutta Gilmaris. She was the daughter of a seamstress on a large farm, and her dad was a lead farmhand. Jutta grew up in the cabbage and onion fields of the Kingdom of Chelmsford, Barony of Pirangi. Pirangi was the breadbasket of The Cities, as the twin cities of Torwin-Armistad were called by the field workers of Pirangi. Pirangi was endless miles of rich, level land where the grains and vegetables that fed Torwin-Armistad were grown.

Jutta, her parents, and her two brothers were employed by Magthildis Farms, a huge multi-family farm growing vegetables, grains, and feed crops, and Jutta loved every acre. She was a beautiful farm girl, tall and strong like her parents Ayluin and Shelara, and her brothers Ryul and Santo. Like them all, she had raven black hair, a rarity on the continent of West Edux. She could manage mules, horses, and oxen and could control teams of up to eight mules or oxen. Every summer and autumn she joined the overland trains and hauled produce seventy-five miles to market with her lord’s ox team. In summer she drove three wagons, hauled by eight oxen, loaded with cabbage and onions from Pirangi to the Torwin Farmers Coop Produce Warehouse, a five-day, seventy-five-mile trip, and then returned with wagonloads of empty crates to hold next year’s harvest.

As autumn neared, she managed mules that powered the threshing machines. The mules pulled a fifteen-foot-long arm in a circle. The arm turned gears, which turned a driveshaft, which powered the mechanical thresher, which knocked wheat free from the straw and hulled the grain. There were ten of those threshers in a row keeping twenty mules busy all autumn long. When the harvest was in, Jutta joined the grain train to Torwin with three wagons, each loaded with a short ton of wheat.

Many men lusted after the tall raven-haired beauty, but she fended them all off. Jutta had a perfect hourglass figure with large, firm breasts, a tight, narrow waist atop round, perfect hips. Her legs were long and shapely from miles of walking with her mules. At the end of the day, when she bathed in the Tunmore Creek with the other farm girls, the girls all complimented her figure, and so did the fellows watching from the bushes.

Jutta had no interest in romance; the subject had never been all that important to her. Her parents aways appeared to her to be each other’s best friend, and that’s all she was looking for. The only man she showed any friendly inclination toward was Felix Aldana, a fellow drover who usually drove the lead team in the train. Felix was as tall as Jutta, and like Jutta, he was muscular from the hard farm work, and he was a kindred soul. Jutta and Felix could talk for hours about mules and oxen, which wagons pulled the best, and the best ways to repair the mule’s tack. Oddly, he had black hair like she did.

One evening, after a refreshing dip in an unnamed stream, she and Felix sat by a small fire and chatted. Somehow the talk got to their future plans. “I want to be a canaler.” She pronounced the word “Can-awl-er.”

“A what?” chuckled Felix as he tossed another piece of wood on the fire. It was a moonless night. Kuu, the largest moon over Kodu, was new, so it cast dim light on the plains below. The ring around Kuu was easiest to see at this phase.

“A canaler, a member of a canal boat crew.” Jutta got a dreamy look in her eyes and she looked up to the stars for validation. “That would be so nice, walking along a steady canal with only two mules pulling thirty-five hundred stone of cargo. I’d have a bunk every night and three hot meals a day, and a break every fifteen miles.”

“Wait!” Felix quickly did the arithmetic in his head. “Thirty-five hundred stone… that’s twenty-five tons. With two mules?”

“Four mules actually. I hear they have a second set of mules on the boat, and when the first set gets winded, you switch them out and the winded mules rest on the boat.”

“Where on Kodu is something like this happening?”

Jutta looked at Felix like he was from another world. How could he not know? Canals were replacing ox wagons all over Kodu. “The big canal is the Eldrin River between The Cities and the sea at Port Meabras, another up in Teurnia on the Arn River between the seaport of Edhellond and the capital of Termagant’s Bane. I hear ore is being hauled on the Gjorgiev River from Copper Mountain to near Slate Bottom Creek where it’s transferred to wagon. There’s even talk of digging a canal from Silvanor to the Eldrin River so they could haul a boat from Silvanor through Torwin-Armistad then to Port Meabras on the Lounast Sea.”

“I’d like to see that,” said Felix. He picked up a rock and threw it into the dark where it landed in the nearby creek with a splash. “That creek there is the biggest body of water I’ve ever seen.”

“What about the Eldrin River?” asked Jutta.

Felix chuckled and shook his head. It’s said that the Eldrin River proudly flowed into Torwin-Armistad from the north, then crawled out to the south weeping. It was the most polluted piece of water on the planet Kodu. “That’s no river, it’s a moving privy.”

“You make it sound so nice,” said Jutta as she punched him in the arm.

“Why don’t you bunk down in my tent tonight? We’ll sleep warm if there’s two of us in there.”

“I’m not quite ready to spend the next sixteen years carrying your child.”

Felix pulled a blade out of his hip sheath. It was long and razor sharp. She had seen him slice thick leather to repair tack with that blade. He handed it to her hilt first and said, “Here, sleep with this at your side. If I do anything more untoward than snore, you can cut me up and then cut your way out of the tent.”

She took him up on his offer and they spent the night talking in his tiny but warm tent. They talked of oxen they knew, and mules they loved, and the horses they rode, and they talked until the sun came up. Somehow they survived the night with their chastity in place and the blade unbloodied.

From that sleepless night onward Jutta was thrown into a state of confusion. Felix acted like she was his fiancée, but she didn’t want to be near him… unless she was not near him. When driving their oxen, she could see him ahead, leading the train two teams ahead of her, and she wanted to run to him. Then they would stop and water the oxen and she would somehow find too much to do preventing her from being near him until they started moving again, and she was two teams behind and she cursed the missed opportunity to be near Felix.

They slept in the same tent every night when on the trail; he slept half naked on top of his blankets, she slept twisted up in her bed roll with that huge knife in her fist. He was big, oafish, and loud, and he smelled so good… She usually nested with him at night because he was a gentleman, or as close to a gentleman as you can find leading a team of oxen. No matter how much the men of the grain trains admired her skills as an ox drover, they were still men and she didn’t want to spend the evening fending off their advances when the sun went down.

On the third evening of the return leg of the mid-summer trip in 3401, Jutta and Felix turned their teams over to their assistants and walked off in the dim moonlight. Only Rahn, the red double-ringed moon, was in the sky casting its reddish glow onto the world below. They walked in silence in the warm evening, like they did every evening, enjoying the cool breeze. Felix worked up his courage and said, “You can feel the attraction, can you not?” It was the most he said to her in over a week. He was quiet and let her have her way in this… whatever it was.

Jutta was attracted to a great many things: music, flowers, berries, puppies; and she was sure he wasn’t speaking about any of them. “You mean to you?”

“ Our blood—it calls to each other.” When he said that, she just looked perplexed. She did feel an attraction to him, and she was sure it would end up in marriage, which is why she pulled away. But now, what in the name of all eight hells was he talking about?

“Blood?” He merely nodded in response. “Ewww. You mean to your blood?”

“I have elf blood in my veins.” He threw a flat rock side armed and it skipped along the dirt path like it would skip across a pond.

“I don’t understand. You’re not elf, what do you mean?”

“My grandfather was a plains elf… your father has plains elf in him also. We are drawn to each other by our blood.”

“It can’t be. My father doesn’t have red eyes!”

“Your paternal grandmother was an elf, and your father’s father was human. That combination ensured that your father got all of the plains elf’s blood.”

Jutta frowned. She had never seen her paternal grandmother. She died before Jutta was born. It’s well known that despite their appearance, elves were different from humans. Plains Elves looked most like humans although many have ruby-red eyes. The conversation confused Jutta; this wasn’t a seduction, but they did hold hands as they walked in the ruddy moonlight. “How do you know so much about my family?”

“Our parents talk and…” Felix nervously sputtered and said, “When someone talks about you, I listen.”

Now Jutta was blushing. “So we are drawn together by our blood?”

“Blood… heritage… culture… maybe even magic, whatever you want to call it. Everything in us that comes from elf descent is looking for a mate of similar makeup.” Felix squeezed her hand and said, “I’ve never felt an attraction to anyone else, elf or human. But I am drawn to you.” Felix stopped in the road and faced her. He took both of her hands in his and said, “I feel so alone when we are apart, but when we are together I feel complete again.”

“I’m so confused,” she cried loudly. “What are you doing to me?”

“I was confused too, until I realized it wasn’t confusion; it was love.” He dropped to one knee and said, “Apart from you, I am nothing, a half looking for my other half to make a whole. Please, my dear Jutta, marry me, and our confusion will be gone.”

For the first time ever, Jutta was incapable of finding the right word; she finally stammered, “I don’t know!”

“That is fine.” He stood and pulled her close. “It’s not no.” She shook as his arms wrapped around her and there, in the moonlight, their lips met. A jolt of something shot through her body. It was everything she expected a first kiss to be, and so much more. The warmth of his body against hers, the taste of his tongue as it danced with her tongue, and the beating rushing sound of her heart in her ears.

When their lips parted, she could only gasp, “I can’t say yes. Not right now.”

“I can wait.”

That night they entered his small tent as usual but Jutta didn’t grasp his knife. In fact, when they woke up in the morning they were sharing a blanket. That day at the morning meal, they sat together eating their porridge in silence, but it was a peaceful silence. It was a shared, joyful secret that soon had the entire camp wondering what they were smiling about.

When they got back to Magthildis Farm, Jutta went straight to her family cabin, the tiny three-room cottage where she was born and raised, and went to her father who was puffing on his bone pipe and reading the almanac’s farming prediction for the next three weeks. All the successful farm leaders swore by the almanac. “How was your trip, dear?” asked her mother, Shelara, without looking up from the embroidery she was doing.

Instead of answering she went to her father and parted the long black hair on his left shoulder. Her gasp when she saw his pointed ear filled the cabin and all went silent. She looked in shock at her father’s ear. “Is this why you grow your hair long?” she demanded.

“Yes. There are a few men who wouldn’t understand. Most men wouldn’t care, but there are a few.”

Jutta stumbled back, not far, there’s not much room in the cabin. “So I’m an elf too?”

“Oh don’t be silly,” said her mother. “Neither your father nor I are elves, but we did inherit a bit of their magical nature and you did too.”

“So I can do magic?”

“You can probably learn. Next time you are in Torwin-Armistad go to the temple and talk to someone about it,” said her father without looking up from the almanac. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes, I’m getting married.”

“That’s nice, dear,” said Shelara as she finished the embroidery on Jutta’s wedding gown.

<><><><><>

Their wedding ceremony was simple, perfect for people of the land. A witch came in from the town of Pirangi and performed the ceremony and ten months later, on Luminex 28, 3402, Jutta Aldana gave birth to Corina Aldana. Corina was daddy’s little girl; Felix went nowhere without his princess. She was barely a month old and he introduced her to every mule and horse under his care. When she was two months old, they took her to the god of the Harvest, Bet ha-Kise, in Pirangi.

Bet ha-Kise was barely taller than a man and dressed as a peasant farmer with worn, rough-spun trousers and jacket, worn boots, and a straw hat. His skin was mahogany brown, and his eyes were yellow. He looked like a common farm worker, and he could have been on any produce train that Felix or Jutta had ever driven, but he had that aura about him. It was a tradition among the field workers of the big Pirangi Valley farms to present their child to the god Bet ha-Kise for his blessing.

The wooden temple was bare and rustic and reminded Jutta of a barn more than a temple, but there were the four temple columns that the gods use to travel from temple to temple. Her father told her how they step between the columns and emerge from the four columns in another temple.

“We beseech your blessing on our daughter,” said Felix as he and Jutta bowed to the god of the harvest.

“This soul is known unto Me,” mumbled Bet ha-Kise.

“Pardon?” asked Felix.

“We will have met,” muttered the god.

“What does he mean?” demanded Jutta. She looked at the tiny creature in her arms and she was still amazed that this little bundle of love lived inside of her.

“Gods are not bound by time like we are,” said an acolyte.

“Is this good or bad?” demanded Felix.

The acolyte shrugged, but Bet ha-Kise said, “It is most sublime! This little one is a celestial being of light. Escort her unto Lord Saehrimnir, for it is his divine will to bestow his grace upon her as well.”

“We will be taking a train of wheat to Torwin-Armistad in three weeks,” said Felix. “We can see Lord Saehrimnir then.”

“That is perfect.” The god handed Corina back to Jutta then bowed to the infant and said, “Until we meet again, your majesty.”

<><><><><>

Babies are not unusual on the ox trains that move across the prairies to Torwin-Armistad. This trip was extra special because it was Corina Aldana’s first ox train. Jutta was able to ride the wagon for the entire trip for the first time in years; she had been walking next to the oxen since she was ten-years-old. She held Corina the entire time and mother and daughter got to know each other.

Often entire families travel, and are welcome on the trail. The younger children learn about life on the trail, and the children old enough to work help wherever they can. In the evening when the teams are bedded down and the drovers and assistants gather at the cook wagon, someone would break out a lute and begin to play and the young girls would dance.

Even before heading out, everyone knew of Corina’s birth, and everyone on the train had to stop by the young Aldana family and see little Corina. “I knew it, I did,” said Gaffer Bivens, the Train Master. “When I saw ya lookin’ at young Jutta with that look in yer eyes that night of the big stardance, I says to myself, ‘those two are gonna hitch up!’”

“Master Bivens, the big stardance happened when I was seven!” said Felix. “That was my first train to The Cities. It was ages ago!”

“Aye, NOW it is ages ago, but when you tell the story to yer grandchildren, it will be just a moment ago.”

“He’s right, you know,” said Jutta after Gaffer Bivens left. “When we get back, we should go into town and pose for a portrait, so we can remember these days forever.”

“We should have the money for that. It will be a slim Yuletide though.”

“It will be our Yuletide gift to our future.”

Felix gave his beautiful wife a long, sweet kiss and said, “How did you get so wise?”

The next day the train pulled into Torwin-Armistad Farmers Co-op Grain Elevator and offloaded their wagon loads of grain. The next day, while the wheat grain was weighed and the price determined, Felix, Jutta, and Corina headed to the Temple of Saehrimnir. It was about a seven-block walk from the loading docks to the temple, a fair stretch of the legs. The Aldana family let everyone know what was happening, then made the treacherous journey to the temple through the streets of Torwin.

When they approached the temple, they stood, gazing in awe at the buildings. The temple itself was huge; it was said there were four Æther portals inside there. But attached to the temple was a huge university, and attached to that was a hospital. It was the biggest building either of them had ever seen. “Ready?” asked Felix.

“Let’s go!” And happily, the young family walked into the temple.

As they entered they were met by an acolyte who asked, “Greetings, fellow worshiper. What is the nature of your visit?”

“Bet ha-Kise told us to come here and get Saehrimnir’s blessing on our child.”

“Then your child must be precious to the gods! Come. I will show you where to wait for Saehrimnir’s appearance.” The acolyte walked between Felix and Jutta with a hand on their shoulders. Both Felix and Jutta felt a tiny prick on their necks but didn’t think anything of it. But soon both felt flushed and broke into a sweat; they started shaking and felt weak, then sank to their knees. “My goodness! Are you unwell?” cried the acolyte.

It was the last thing Jutta and Felix remembered hearing.

<><><><><>

“Lord Saehrimnir! So happy to see your return!” said His Holiness Stoill Spakeman, Archbishop of the Temple of Saehrimnir. The god was in a fair mood. He had been meeting with other gods. There was a war coming, and they were working hard to avoid it. It had been over four thousand years since the gods were involved in a war and they were not in a hurry to participate in another war.

”Greetings upon this twilight, Bishop Spakeman. How fares the sanctuary of my spirit?” said the god. His voice boomed through the huge temple and everything became silent as everyone there turned to listen to Saehrimnir. Saehrimnir was the presiding god because he was most powerful. He was a twelve-foot-tall man, handsome, with masculine features and curling sandy hair, and he radiated an aura of power. He wore a simple toga with a belt that showed off his muscular physique and sandals. It was the common clothing of three thousand years ago but Saehrimnir felt most comfortable in it, as did many other gods.

“We have a surprise for you, your holiness. Bet ha-Kise sent someone for your blessing.”

The bishop snapped his fingers and an acolyte approached with a baby in his arms. Saehrimnir gazed down at the tiny child who was finally asleep; she had been crying for several days. The acolyte put the baby in the god’s huge hands. ”By what title is she known to the heavens?”

“Her name is Octavia, my lord.”

”Octavia what?” demanded the god. He still had a smile on his face but his voice was cold.

“We do not know, sire,” said Bishop Spakeman. “She was the eighth foundling brought to the orphanage that day so the Holy Sister gave her the name Octavia.”

”Whither have her parents departed?”

“Her parents? Uh… it… appears…” The bishop couldn’t stop. The words were being painfully ripped out of him one by one. “… they… contracted… Haemoris… Fever… “

”LIAR!” roared the god. Saehrimnir saw the acolyte trying to sneak away. ”YOU! SPEAK NOW!”

“I had to do it, sire! The Bishop said he would sell my parents to the Idamaa slave traders.” Acolyte Rupert Belsey began to babble how he had a ring on each hand with a needle and poison on the ring. He knocked out the young couple and they were now on a ship to the Mandril continent.

”BRING THEM BACK!”

The bishop screamed and clutched his head. “Their ship is on the Lounast Sea! We can’t reach it!”

”Then you shall commune with them directly; command them to repent and return.” Saehrimnir waved his hand and the bishop and acolyte disappeared, leaving their fine robes behind. Then he handed the baby to Caspar Scholtz, a temple priest, and said, ”Behold, I vest thee with the mantle of Archbishop. This child dwelleth beneath my divine protection and benediction. No shadow shall touch her if you want to live.”

<><><><><>֍<><><><><>

Chapter 03 - The King of Breaze

Mystara 27, 3438

Elm Springs, Uduithia

“I should kill you,” growled Octavia.

“I’m sure you could, and I’m sure you have plenty of reason. Is there any reason in particular?” asked Nick.

“We had a house full of people staring at my doodle all day!”

“Mommy said doodle!” giggled Hollie.

“Shh!” warned Marlon as the two children sat at the screen door on the front porch listening to their parents talk inside the cottage.

“Dear, they were all witches, including me. It was all medical. I wanted these young witches to realize that having twins was nothing to panic about. All they had to do was keep everyone calm and take their time.”

“Even your cousin Bella was here!” That angered Octavia more than anything else. “She’s already had twins, so she didn’t need to be here.”

“She was here so she could give firsthand advice to the younger witches like Matilda and Seldanna.”

“Seldanna is an elf. Elves don’t have twins.” Then Octavia noticed the blush on Nick’s cheeks. “What is it now?”

“Ummm…” Nick continued to change the infant he was cleaning up.

“No! Don’t tell me.”

“Phyrra Glynwarin, the elven artist, Jhaeros Glynwarin’s mate, is carrying twins.”

“What is with you? Every female you touch starts squirting out twins!”

“Daddy makes twins!” giggled Hollie.

“Shhh! I want to hear what they’re saying,” whispered Marlon.

“I’ve never touched Phyrra, you can tell by the way I’m still alive.”

“Jhaeros owes me a favor so watch yourself,” snarled Octavia. “Hand me my son.”

“You have your son; I’m changing Loo-Loo.”

“For truth?” Octavia parted the swaddling and peered into the diaper of the infant she was holding. “Lou! You told me you were Loo-Loo! You faker!” Lou opened one eye as if to see why his mother was growling at him, then went back to sleep. “How long are they going to be sweet and quiet like this?” said Octavia with a contented sigh. Nick handed Loo-Loo to Octavia and both arms were full of the sweetest children she’s ever met.

“If they’re anything like their siblings listening to us on the porch, about twenty more minutes.”

“What’s a sibling?” whispered Hollie.

“I don’t know, but I think we both are one.”

“It means brother or sister, you goofs,” scolded Annette from the big rocking chair where she was relaxing.

Inside the cottage, Annette’s mother Annabelle came down the stairs with a cloth sack filled with extra clothing and pajamas for Marlon and Hollie. “I think I have everything they’ll need for a sleepover,” said Annabelle. “Are you sure there’s nothing more I can do for you?”

“No, thank you so much, sweetie,” said Octavia. “All we ask for is a chance for as much peace as Bubble and Squeak will give us.”

“We will give you as much peace as possible,” said Uric from the kitchen area as he finished cleaning the trout he caught. He put two trout in Octavia’s ice chest and the rest in his creel for dinner tonight at the palace and then cleaned off the counter where he was working. “I will leave a guard here to help you and fend off any visitors until you are ready to see well-wishers. Shall we go, sergeant?”

“Yes, your majesty.” Even though Detective Sergeant Annabelle Preston was raised among the royalty of Elbreshowth on the Moor, they were all relatives and thus their status did not impress her. Standing next to a real, live king with a crown and a castle was unnerving her. The only other king she knew was King Samrel Oakenarmour, king over all dwarves, yet he was just one of the characters that hung out at her grandma’s house. King Oakenarmour had far more subjects than King Uric, but he was a miner like his subjects. King Uric had an air of royalty about him, even though he just cleaned his catch in the kitchen of a subject. Annabelle turned to Marlon and Hollie and said, “Are you ready to go?”

“I wanna stay with the babies!” whined Hollie.

“Trust me, the babies don’t do anything,” said Annabelle. “They eat and sleep and cry. They don’t even wake up to poop.”

Hollie was horrified that babies would do such a thing. “Babies poop in their sleep?”

“It’s best to let mom and dad deal with that. We’ll have a pajama party with some snacks; I made some cookies we can eat before bed tonight. Now go give mommy a kiss and tell her you’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Uh-huh.” And Hollie dashed into the house. Nick had made a bed in the living room for Octavia and the babies and seeing it there sparked her curiosity. “Are you sleeping here now?” she asked her mother.

“Yes, so I don’t have to climb the stairs.”

“Can I have your room?” said Hollie with a look of eager excitement.

“No.” Mom closed the door of opportunity quickly. “This is just temporary. I will be back upstairs before you know it.”

“Awww…”

Octavia patted Hollie’s dark locks and said, “Someday you will have this entire house all to yourself, just like daddy did when he was young.” She didn’t tell her that the cottage was a tiny one room shack and Nick slept on the floor in front of the fireplace. There was no kitchen, no upstairs bedrooms, only one stick of furniture and that was Great-Grandmother’s rocking chair.

“All for me?”

“All for you. Now say goodbye to your dad and grandmother.”

“I will!” She dashed to the kitchen where Dad was preparing a meal for Mom. “Bye, dad!” And she turned to run but Nick snagged her by the frilly dress she wore.

“Come give me a kiss!”

“Awww…” Hollie gave her father a kiss and in return he tickled her, then she dashed to the rocking chair in the main room. “Bye Gamma!”

An image of a sweet old woman slowly appeared in the chair. “My, my, where are you off to?”

“Aunty Annabelle’s house. Mommy wants to sleep so we have to go away.”

“Having a baby takes a lot out of you,” said the ghost of Nanna Peacock, Hollie’s great-great-grandmother.

“Mommy made two babies!” cried Hollie holding up two fingers. “Lou and Loo-Loo.” Hollie’s outburst brought a “Shhh! Baby!” from her mother and father.

“We must keep quiet, little one. Babies have to sleep if they’re going to grow up big and strong like you.”

“I will, grandma.”

“Good. Now you run along and have fun. I will always be here for you.”

“Thank you!” She zipped out the door with a chorus of “Shh! Baby!” behind her. Marlon said his goodbyes and followed Hollie out the door and climbed into the police carriage with Detective Sergeant Annabelle Prescott and Annette. The King’s carriage followed with King Uric, Izhar, and Doctor Tidor Dhukonn in the carriage. This was their occasional trout outing, something the professor and the king enjoyed very much.

“We will escort His Majesty to the top of Breeder’s Peak before heading home,” said Detective Sergeant Prescott. Annabelle was small and cute, and was often teased that her daughter was as big as her, but she has an inner strength and a magic that she can use to protect anyone that is close to her. She proved that by killing the wizard Neth Skelm six years ago.

“Why?” asked Marlon. He was a bit confused; the king had several escorts and outriders. “He’s got guards.”

“Because he is our king, the ruler of our land, we extend him courtesy and protection.”

“My dad rules Black Mountain,” said Marlon with a huff.

“He rules Black Mountain with the king’s permission,” said Annabelle. “If your dad wanted to do something that the king didn’t like, the king can say ‘Stop,’ and he would have to stop. Your father is wise and he clears every decision he makes through the king.”

Marlon thought for a while then said, “Even the pub?” The One Eyed Duke was a pub named in Nick’s honor, so it was often called “Nick’s Place” or “Nick’s Office,” because the business of running the Duchy of Wægn was held there in the pub, in plain sight for all to see.

“The king helped build it and donated some of the materials.”

The path from Nick and Octavia’s cottage was an arrow straight road through the thickest part of the forest at the foot of Black Mountain. The road was called “Nana Peacock’s Drive” after the witch that built the cottage and started the farm, Nick’s great-grandmother. It was the home of the witch that provided medical care for the people and livestock of Hay-on-Wægn county for generations; now Nick is providing medical care as well as ruling as Duke.

It was a beautiful summer afternoon as they trotted down the narrow road to the bottom of Creel Creek Valley, where the village of Elm Springs was located. Elm Springs was well equipped for a tiny village with a grist mill, a sawmill, a blacksmith, a tiny general store, a cobbler shop, a temple (with both a god and a ghost in attendance), a police barracks, and a pub.

Even though the road between Elm Springs and Nick’s farm was through a thick and dark forest, the king wasn’t worried of bandits. Bandits stayed away from the forests north of Elm Springs because there were reports of three massive werewolves prowling the forest. King Uric would laugh at these reports because he knew the truth. There was only one werewolf and she was in the police wagon with the children. Of the other two werewolves, one was Nick’s pet, and the other was Nick.

“Professor, why don’t you stay the evening in our castle? We’ll dine on our trout and fresh vegetables and throw a dart or two in our pub,” said the king. “Izhar is filling in as my court wizard, you can observe and see if he is giving Uduithia a proper turn as wizard.”

“Indeed!” said Izhar.

Doctor Dhukonn thought about the king’s offer. Since retiring from teaching, the only thing he’s really done, other than play with Nick and Octavia’s children, has been assisting Izhar with his research in the Library of Nolmë. As he struggled with his decision, the king added an option. “Missus Henshaw has been asking for you.” Missus Henshaw was the queen’s secretary, and a widow about the same age as the Professor.

“Would Missus Henshaw be available to join us for dinner?” asked the professor.

“I’m sure she would be happy to join us. If you’d like, you may remain and continue your research with Izhar.”

The plan was for the professor to step off the king’s carriage in the village, then use the Æther portal in the temple to return to the Temple of Saehrimnir in Torwin-Armistad where he had a room. “I would like to spend the evening in the company of Missus Henshaw,” said the professor. “Of course, I would love to continue the work that wizard Izhar and I have been investigating for the past half decade. We are making some fascinating finds.”

The king smiled. It’s nice to have someone in the castle whose mind is on something other than politics, someone whose first words are not “Have you picked an heir yet?”

<><><><><>

The news that Octavia and Nick had twins spread from Uduithia out across the west side of the Edux continent. A week after the twins were born, Nick felt it was safe to leave Octavia and the twins, so he resumed classes in town. He took Marlon with him while Eryri and Seldanna of the Rofir came down from their positions on Black Mountain to help Octavia with the babies, and Hollie.

Nick was holding classes for anyone that wanted to learn to read. On the chalk board that normally displayed the pub’s menu, Nick had the twelve months of the year and the name of the sixteen-day holiday season written on the board:

Astra, Celest, Starend, Nebulique, Æther, Luminex, Mystara, Nebula, Spire, Whorl, Nexus, Cosong, and Yule.

“Ready? Which summer month has the planetary alignment that creates a stardance?” asked Nick. This one was easy; any child should get it. Hands shot up the moment he asked that. Nick had twelve students: seven children of all ages and five adults. He was teaching practical reading, quick lessons to get them started. His students may not return for more classes after today, so he needed to teach them to recognize words that they run into often. Were there any adults with their hands up? Yes, an old friend, and he called on that friend. “Merle, which month is that?”

“The planetary alignment happens in high summer, so it’s Mystara.”

“That’s right. Can you point Mystara out on the board?” asked Nick, and he gave the pointer to Merle Rorie, one of the boys that would be out watching Trei Metsker at the blacksmith forge with Sieffre Merrick and Tiernan Brighid. Merle walked up to the chalkboard and he pointed straight at Mystara. “Excellent! And how did you determine that?”

“It’s the only month that starts with the mmm sound, and that’s the only month with an M up there.”

“Absolutely right! This is what I mean by ‘sounding out a word…’” Just then, there were two extremely loud clangs of the temple bell next door telling Nick that Tervis, the god of health, did not recognize two people who just came through the Æther portal.

“Are you going to get that?” asked Merle as he sat down at a table with his grandchildren.

Nick shook his head. “We have a mayor, let him welcome the visitors to Elm Springs. Please take your books out; we are on page twenty four. Top of the page. Read along with me… Sir Daniel drew his sword and called, ‘Halt! Who goes there?’ and in the darkness he heard a familiar voice call, ‘Tis I, Sir Morgan; I must speak with the king! The centaurs are gathering for an assault…” The book was fantasy and not particularly good fantasy, but it kept the students’ interest, especially the teenage boys and the romantically blossoming girls.

Nick read an entire chapter and as he read, three men and an elf entered the pub and sat in the back. Nick soon came to the end of the chapter, snapped his book closed, and said, “That’s all for today; we will delve into chapter five next time we meet. As usual, you can take your books home with you to read or leave them here for next time. Place your slate and chalk on the shelf and push your chairs in!”

“Is there any homework?” asked Lynet Borsen.

“No, not this time,” said Nick. Lynet and her twin sister Guendolen sighed in relief.

“Can we see the babies?” asked Guendolen.

“You’ve never seen a twin before?” Nick teased the twins he delivered seven years ago. “Not this week. Let’s give Lady Octavia another week to get her strength back so she can shout at you good and strong.”

“Aye!” cried the girls. “Come on, Marlon, let’s play some ball!” Marlon looked at his father, who nodded. Then Marlon and Annette ran to join the Borsen girls and several others for a game of football in the street out front where Nick could watch. Soon it was just Nick and the two humans and one elf who came through the Æther portal in the temple next door. The humans were reviewing some documents they brought. The elf was armed with a sword and buckler, and he wore a breastplate and shoulder armor, but he was turned in his chair to watch the children play through the front windows of the One Eyed Duke.

Nick pulled up a bar stool and sat on it, which put him in a position above the visitors. “How can I help my visitors from Teurnia?”

“How did you know we were from Teurnia?” asked one of the men.

“It’s not hard. Bureaucrats from Teurnia have an aura of defeat and boring servitude about them.” That caused the elf to snort with restrained laughter.

“That was quite rude, even for a schoolteacher,” said one bureaucrat.

“Oh dear, I suppose you are going to have me killed,” said Nick with a sigh.

“I believe you are right,” said the elf. “Arm yourself, Sir Schoolmarm.” He rose and drew his sword.

“And you too, Sir Nursemaid,” said Nick and with a brilliant flash of sapphire light the walking stick he carried became a broadsword.

“Oh that’s nice!” said the elf as their swords crossed. “If I win, can I keep it?”

“If you win, you’ll have to explain to my widow how you cheated.” Their swords clanged and rang as they slapped together, terrifying the bureaucrats.

“Please stop!” cried one of the men. “There was no slight intended.”

“Oh! That is quite different,” said the elf. He sheathed his sword, and Nick’s broadsword became a walking stick; then the two embraced as old friends.

“Leomaris Autumnfall, how long has it been?”

“Easily five years, your grace,” said the elf, who was the commander of the Teurnian Royal Guard. “You and the duchess came to unwind; your boy was still a sprout.”

“This has all been a bit of theater?” asked a bureaucrat.

“Yes, and you earned it when you called the Duke of Wægn a schoolteacher.” With that, Leomaris returned to his seat and returned to watching the football game outside.

The two men rose and bowed. “Our apologies, your grace. We did not realize that a duke would be teaching children!”

Nick grinned and sat down on his bar stool. “Very few dukes are wise enough to do so. How may I help you? My math class is tomorrow if you wish to sign up.”

“It is about Breaze.”

Nick’s grin faded. “There is no Breaze. I failed my king and my revenge came far too late.” He tapped the scar on his cheek. “I still carry the reminders of my failure.”

“I told you this would be a hard sell,” said Leomaris without turning around.

“His highness King Ranzau of Teurnia needs a man like you to lead Breaze. Mariseau Castle and the city of Enkmaar are being rebuilt, and a king is needed. King Lars believes you are the man to return Breaze to its former glory.”

“Tell me, Mister Bureaucrat, how free am I with my tax levy?”

One of the men looked through the papers then said, “You may freely determine the tax burden of your subjects.”

“Oh, good, and I expect to retain one hundred percent of the tax income.”

“Uhhh, no, the percent you keep is determined by the crown.”

“Excuse me, if I were the king then I am the crown. I will need that income to raise an army.”

“You would not need an army; Breaze will be protected by King Lars’s forces.”

“So I would pay King Lars to protect Breaze, and if I did not pay, he would send his forces in to collect. Is that not right?”

“That would be correct,” said one of the Bureaucrats.

“So I am paying King Lars to protect me from his army.” Before the shocked bureaucrats responded, Nick continued. “Can I determine which crops the farmers of Breaze can grow?”

“Um… no. That will be determined by the court of Teurnia.”

“Where my fishers can fish and what they can catch?”

“No. That will be determined by…”

“What my miners can mine?”

“No… but you can…” Suddenly the bureaucrat stopped. He was no longer talking to a man; in Nick’s place was a Snowcross Mountain Lion, light tan in his summer coat. The cat was huge and it made a sound deep in its throat. Was that a growl? A deep purr? The huge cat drew close, and the two men could see that its left eye was solid gold. The cat reared up and put its massive forepaws on the table, and they could see the key-shaped tuft of white fur at the base of the lion’s massive neck. With a snarl, the lion swiped the documents the men had on the table and shredded the documents to ribbons.

With trembling hands, the men inspected the documents. “I tried to warn you,” said Leomaris. “Is that your boy playing outside, Sir Pommy?”

“Yes, it is,” said Nick proudly as he returned to human form. “Gentlemen, you said you need a king, but instead you showed that you were looking for a castrated governor. If you intend to hand me a crown and call me a king, then I will demand to be treated as one.”

“Sire, we were sent…”

“It’s ‘your grace,’ not sire. Sire is reserved for a king. And your king sent you here knowing what I would say. I love King Lars and would gladly serve him, but what you offered is a step down from my current position. King Uric needs me; my loyalty to that man cannot be questioned. What King Lars needs is a Duke in Mariseau Castle ruling Breaze, and the one that could fill that position best is sitting right there,” and Nick pointed to Leomaris.

“You bastard!” said Leomaris without turning around.

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Chapter 04 - Conscripted

Spire 3, 3345

Elm Springs, Uduithia

Nia Frost was born in the village of Troyer’s Corner and learned at an early age what it is to be a witch. She was in her teens when her sponsor, Tegwen Pugh, said, “I can’t teach the girl no more, she’s now teaching me.” So Nia struck out and stumbled upon an old shack on Black Mountain. None of the farmers knew or cared about the old shack, nor the abandoned barn behind it, nor the land it sat on. All that was there was a pond and a couple of level acres of land which was rare enough in the mountain kingdom of Uduithia. Nia purchased the shack, the barn, and the land from the Duke of Wægn, old Silbannacus Roem. A series of fortunate clerical errors occurred, and when the papers were set, signed, and sealed, and Nia’s only gold coin changed hands, she became the documented owner of the cabin, the barn, the pond, the farm—and all of Black Mountain.

Nia flew from Waleston over Breeders Peak and down into Elm Springs late one evening after sealing her purchase. Nia was an expert at flying on her broomstick, but she was shy and bookish so she only flew when she wouldn’t be seen. She was terrified that when she flew, someone was trying to peer up her skirts. Wearing frilly leggings and flying at night eased her worries, but limited her travel.

Nia found that Elm Springs was an empty village. It had hope and dreams but not much else. She stepped into the temple and discovered that the god who had reigned there left decades ago. She stepped into the administrator’s office, saw an elderly man at the desk, and said, “Who administers this temple?”

“Pray, art thou the new temple high priestess?”

“I just got here!” said Nia. “I just bought Black Mountain from Duke Roem.”

“Bless my soul, Duke Roem! I’m quite astonished he didn’t part with his whole duchy for a pittance. He’s become a touch addled in his dotage, you see.”

“Who are you?” demanded Nia.

“I am Grigeor de la Montesquieu, sorcerer and cleric of this most hallowed Temple of the Woods. I assumed my duties in the year 2891 and have not faltered in my service since.”

Nia was shocked and said, “That was over four hundred years ago.”

“I permit not even death to hinder my spirit. Art thou prepared to assume thy dominion, my daughter?”

“Daughter? My father is Alun Frost of Troyer’s Corner,” Nia said with a huff.

Grigeor nodded and said, “Alun Frost, scion of Aeron Frost, descendant of Vaughan Frost, of the lineage of Neifion Frome…” he named names that led directly back to him. “I am your grandsire, by fourteen degrees of separation.”

“That’s the problem with a small town,” said Nia with a sigh. “You can’t get away from relatives. Gaffer Grigeor, be a doll and send a young man to help with my farm.”

“Gaffer?” roared Grigeor. “Your generation possesses naught but a profound lack of reverence for their elders!”

“That may be so, but I can step outside and smell the flowers while you have to stay put and haunt this old temple. If you find an appropriate assistant, I’ll see to it that my grandchildren assist you in your temple duties.”

“Witches!” grumbled Grigeor. Defeated, he sighed and said, “I may be acquainted with a young crofter in search of honest toil.”

“Good; I’ll be done with my cottage on Thursday. You can send him up then.” And with that, she stepped outside, mounted her broomstick, and drifted off into the night.

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The shack became a cozy little cottage with an artesian well and a kitchen garden maintained by garden gnomes. The cottage remained a cozy one-room cottage for several days, then it suddenly sprouted a kitchen that contained an iron stove, a wooden ice box, and a dining table. Later that day, a young, strong fellow named Norman Peacock arrived looking for work. Norm was handsome and strong and he came with a pregnant cow.

“How long have you been farming?” asked a smitten Nia.

“About a year… maybe two. I used to be a carpenter.”

“Good enough!” Nia hired him and Norm moved into the barn.

Those were their halcyon days: long days of demanding work gathering fuel and food for the winter. And Nia had her hands full with the needs of the village. When word got out that there was a witch within a five-minute broom ride, pregnant women and injured workers emerged from every house and farmyard in the county. Nia and Norm looked like they were a couple; both were fair-haired and easy on the eye. Nia was cute as a button but had a stern will when it came to witchery and health. Norm was handsome and strong, able to do the work of two men eighteen hours a day and rise early the next morning ready for more.

As was typical of rural communities, birthing babies was paid for in livestock, and splinting bones and curing maladies was paid for in produce. Soon Norm and Nia were set with chickens, rabbits, and lambs. They even ended up with a bull calf. He was going to become steak, but when you have a bull in one field and two cows in the other… this is how profits were made.

Their days started at sunrise when Norman gathered eggs and set them in the kitchen for breakfast and for Nia’s shopping. In a rural economy, eggs were currency. He would start a fire in the stove, then, if Nia were sleeping, he would give her cheek a delicate kiss, then head out to feed the animals. Most of the time she was pretending to be asleep. As Norman went out to start his chores, Nia dressed and made a hearty breakfast then called him in by ringing the triangle bell for breakfast. They would discuss their plans for the day over breakfast, but both were thinking about the same thing—the kiss that Norm gave her earlier.

Winter neared, and Norm gathered several cords of firewood by clearing the deadfall off the mountain. He had traded a calf for a mule and was able to skid logs down to the farmyard where he would cut and split the logs. Luckily all the available firewood was uphill, and it was easy to drag the logs downhill. Through the autumn, Nia was busy delivering babies, so Norm ended up making dinner for them.

One morn