A War for Love

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3

“It’s amazing.” Lord Coille leaned back in his chair. “We felt it. As soon as the magic returned, we all knew.”

Trystan glanced between the men and women he’d assembled around the table. His most trusted advisors along with many of the soldiers he counted on. They all nodded as if they understood what Coille spoke of.

“I was ten-years-old when we lost it,” Lady Destan chimed in. “Only a child, but I still remember. I called on the magic to see if I’d still remember, and it was instinctual. My body understood what to do even before my mind caught up. It sensed when to stop drawing in the power and how to release it.”

“That’s good.” Trystan rested his hands on the table.

“Good?” Wren leaned forward. “Trystan, it’s brilliant.”

“Wren.” Coille scowled.

Wren hid his smile behind a cough. “Sorry, your Majesty.”

Trystan waved him off. “What about you, Wren? I know you were young, but…”

Color rose in Wren’s cheeks. “I… uh. I haven’t tried.”

“Why not?”

He lowered his gaze to the table. Alixa, seated beside him, place a hand on his arm.

Wren sighed. “My only memories of magic are losing it.” His eyes flicked to Lord Coille’s. “When it was ripped from the earth, we all felt our connection severed. Every person in Dreach-Sciene had this tie to each other. Magic. The earth. But then we were alone.”

The room deflated with his words. Those who’d been old enough to remember nodded in agreement, sadness darkening their eyes.

Wren continued. “I guess I’m afraid giving into the connection once more will bring it all back.”

Lord Coille’s eyes softened as they remained fixed on Wren. “Son, Dreach-Sciene will need you to be at your strongest. If we fear losing the connection to the earth, to our people again, we will. Give yourself to the magic as we were always meant to.”

Trystan needed to get the meeting back on track so he cleared his throat. “It’s good to know that anyone who once knew the use of magic can again, but the fact of the matter remains. Every person who was too young or not yet born will have no knowledge of this power. I am one of these people. As is Alixa here. Rissa’s Tenelach connection seems to have taught her the earth’s ways. And Davion… well, he’s already been trained.”

The room fell silent at the mention of Davi and unasked questions thickened the air.

“Your Majesty.” It was Lord Coille who spoke first. “Are you sure—”

“Adrian.” Trystan’s jaw hardened. “If you say what I assume you’re going to, I’ll send you right back to Whitecap without a second thought.”

“It needs to be said, sire.”

Trystan heaved a breath. “No, it doesn’t. Just like it didn’t need to be said about Alixa.” He gestured to her. “She’s since proven her loyalty to Dreach-Sciene despite her lineage. Allow the same for Davi.”

“There’s a difference between being the runaway daughter of Lord Eisner and actually working for the king of Dreach-Dhoun.”

“Where is Davion?” Wren asked. “Shouldn’t he be here at your side?” Unlike Coille, Wren had no suspicion in his voice. Only curiosity.

Trystan didn’t have an answer for him. Davi had been a ghost since they returned to the palace. Rather than play the role of second in command, he’d been avoiding everyone and everything.

“Be careful, your Majesty.” Lord Coille pinned him with a stern look.

“Adrian.” Lady Destan gave a delicate shake of her head. “If the king trusts Davi, we should as well.”

Lord Coille gave a sigh but didn’t say anything further. The Duchess of Sona was not someone people liked to argue with. Trystan smiled at her gratefully. She didn’t return the gesture.

“Just be sure, your Majesty.”

He nodded. Before anyone spoke another word, the doors to the council chamber burst open. Edric stood panting in the doorway.

“I’m sorry, your Majesty. The guards told me to enter because you’d want to hear the news I bring.”

Trystan pushed his chair back and stood. “What is it, Edric?”

“Rion has returned, sire.” He sucked in a breath. “And he has prisoners from Dreach-Dhoun with him.”

“Prisoners?” Trystan rounded the table as the rest of those present rose as well.

“Rebels. They say they must speak with you.”

Without waiting for anyone to catch up with him, Trystan strode from the room. They’d been waiting for Calis to make his move. For something to happen. The border had been too quiet.

Was this finally the beginning?

* * *

“You’re telling me these men are defectors from Dreach-Dhoun?” Trystan couldn’t decide if the men brought before him were more likely to pass out from terror or die from starvation, right in front of his eyes. Sunken cheeks and sharp shoulder bones. When had they last had a decent meal? Fear sparked in them as they stared. What other tortures had they endured along their journey?

“That is correct, your Majesty.” Rion ducked his head Trystan’s way. “We caught them crossing the border. Actually, we didn’t catch them at all. They gave themselves up quite willingly, wanting us to bring them into Dreach-Sciene. They demanded to speak with you, sire, saying they have news of Dreach-Dhoun for your ears only.”

Trystan narrowed his eyes and lifted himself out of his father’s throne. His throne. He still couldn’t bring himself to think of it that way. He paced back and forth across the raised dais, arms crossed, brow puckered in thought. He stopped pacing and stared down at the two men.

“Why now?”

“Sor… sorry, your Majesty?” One stammered as he twisted a dirty wool cap in his hands and stared up at Trystan with red-rimmed eyes. “I don’t understand the question.”

“Why have you chosen now to switch allegiance? I find the timing to be a little concerning since we’ve just had a run in with your king.”

“This was the perfect time, sire. You’ve done the impossible. You brought magic back to your lands, something Calis has sworn for years you could not do. He always preached Dreach-Sciene was a dull-witted, backward kingdom that could never stand up to him or his power. That you could never reunite the three who stole your magic. But you proved him wrong. And he’s gone mad with his rage. You call him our king, but we in Dreach-Dhoun call him our destroyer.”

Trystan stared down at the men in puzzlement. Why would Calis act in rage when bringing magic back to Dreach-Sciene was what he truly wanted? He stopped pacing and lowered himself down to sit on the edge of the dais where his throne rested, face to face with the captors. Raising a hand, he dismissed Avery’s worried “sire” at his lack of formality. He needed to sort this out.

“What’s happening in Dreach-Dhoun? Tell me all.”

The older man on the right wiped a weary hand across his eyes, trying to clear away exhaustion or tears. Maybe both.

“King Bearne was a hard ruler, who brought war to our lands, but he treated his people fairly. If you paid what was owed to the crown you had nothing to worry about. That all changed when his son took over. Calis Bearne is…is different. He rules with an iron fist. Punishing anyone who dares speak a word against him, and earth help you if you don’t have your taxes to pay the crown. They will take it, even in flesh if they have to. There were many of us who hated living this way. Many who wanted to leave Dreach-Dhoun, but we knew we could not seek help from Dreach-Sciene. Your magic was gone, your people starving. So we stayed. Our resentment and hatred of Calis grew. Bands of rebels formed all over the lands, trying to think of some way to oust him from the throne, but he was too powerful and too cruel. We’ve suffered much under him over the years, but these last few weeks have made the past pale in comparison. His cruelty has only grown. Innocent people, whole villages punished for no reason other than his twisted pleasure. Our lives mean nothing to him and his crusade to wipe out rebellion.” The man’s voice broke on a sob and the younger captive rested a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He squared his shoulders and continued. “Our village became a target. Although there were a few insurgents amongst us, he convinced himself the whole village was guilty. He sent his men to capture everyone in question, even the children.” The man swallowed hard, locking down his tears. “The few of us who escaped made our way here to the border. Not all of us made it, his soldiers took out most. Only me and Sal here survived, but we needed to believe what we heard about you was true, your Majesty. We needed to know that you were as honorable as your father was said to be and that we could ask for your help.”

Trystan hid his dismay behind a mask of calm. “My help with what?”

“In rescuing our villagers, your Majesty. Calis is trying to stop this rebellion once and for all. He has announced a mass public execution of the prisoners hoping it will scare everyone into submission. He will kill them all. Women, children, innocents that have nothing to do with any rebellion. Hundreds of people, sire. Anyone in traveling distance of the palace has been ordered to attend or suffer the same consequence. He means to drive this fear deep into our hearts. It’s as if he’s lost any thread of sanity he had left.”

No, he’s just lost his son. Trystan did not repeat that thought out loud, but deep down he knew that was the true cause of Calis’ insanity.

“When is this public execution planned to take place?”

“In a fortnight.” The man fell to his knees. “Please, sire, we need your help. If we do nothing, all of my people will die. My wife and children…” his voice finally broke as sobs racked his thin body, and he dropped his head into his hands. The younger man stepped forward.

“He speaks the truth, your Majesty. So many will die. Not even Calis’ own family is exempt from his tyranny.”

“What do you mean?”

The voice surprised everyone in the room, but none more than Trystan. Ever since their return, Davi had forgone anything to do with war talk or decision. His refusal to be involved left Trystan no doubt that his childhood friend no longer considered himself second in command. After being absent from all matters concerning Dreach-Dhoun, why was he here right now in the throne room, at this exact moment and advancing on the two captives like they were his worst enemies?

“Answer me. What do you mean not even his own family is exempt?”

The man on the floor cowered while the other stumbled away from Davi’s ferociousness. Davi didn’t seem to notice. His glower encompassed both men as he hovered in impatience. “I said answer me.”

“Davion,” Trystan hissed, waving away the guards at Davi’s back as they moved toward him. “Give them time to explain.”

“Davion?” The man on the floor whispered as he stared up in dawning horror. “Prince Davion? Here? It can’t be.” He scrambled back to his feet as he turned to his companion. “I fear we have made a mistake in coming here, Sal. We will not find help from someone who consorts with our enemy’s son.”

“I assure you Davi is no enemy of mine or yours.” Trystan’s voice was laced with steel. “Calis has played my friend in his evil plans along with the rest of us.”

“But I saw him,” Sal pointed a finger Davi’s way. “He was with Calis’ soldiers when they took the old seer. He was leading them.”

“Again, that was not the man you see before you right now. This man standing here is my most trusted friend and loyal follower.” Trystan’s words were rock solid, but he understood the question in Davi’s eyes as their gazes met. Who was Trystan trying to convince, the two men or himself? “You have nothing to fear from him, I promise you. Now explain your earlier statement. What do you mean not even Calis’ family is exempt?”

The two prisoners shuffled in uncertainty before the older man spoke up. “The younger seer, Calis’ niece. She is to be executed as well, along with the villagers. Calis has announced her a traitor and said that all traitors will hang, royal blood or no.”