The Ice Dragon King & The Slave-Queen

Chapter 17 - No one must know

“Mmm this tastes good, Eve,” Taryn said, munching on her third pie that afternoon.

Eve exchanged glances with Lady Riona as they both watched Taryn gobble down the food in front of her with enthusiasm.

“Are you still hungry, my dear? You have eaten at least a bowl of soup, three pieces of bread with meat, and three whole pieces of pumpkin pie,” Lady Riona noted Taryn’s appetite, wondering if she was stressed eating or if it was a change in hormones.

Taryn looked at Lady Riona and Eve before she gave them a huge smile, “I just want to drown all my worries and sorrow in food.”

Lady Riona sighed. She had heard about the misunderstandings between Taryn and the king from Taryn herself. At first, the young woman had been consumed with anger. Yet later she decided she probably had been too harsh on the king, knowing that King Einar was, in fact, a king and it was within his rights to do whatever it is that he wanted to do — even if it meant taking a mistress or two. In fact, it is not against tradition for a Varangian king to have more than one wife as well.

King Einar was a true Varangian, a Norseman. There are no laws in his faith that forbid him from having a lover after marriage or even more than one wife. In the histories and legends of his people, even the gods sometimes have multiple spouses and children. In truth, Taryn knows she should not impose her Christian beliefs on the king. When she told the king she would rather he be intimate with only her, it was more of a suggestion, instead of an ultimatum.

By the third night, when King Einar still had not returned to the castle or even to his bedroom, Taryn started to turn to food to block out the images that kept coming into her head. She hated the woman with the dark brown hair. She hated even the thought of him ever being entangled with her in his bed. She wondered if the king had really gone back to his ex-lover after Taryn had rejected him that night. If he really did, then Taryn only had herself to blame.

“What if he went to her, Lady Riona? What if he went to any other women, for that matter?” Taryn asked, tears welling in her eyes.

Lady Riona looked at the beautiful young woman in front of her. Even when she was consumed with sadness and worry, she still looked beautiful. Lady Riona pushed Taryn’s thick locks behind her shoulders and held Taryn’s chin. She pulled Taryn’s chin up so that the young woman would look at her.

“And if he did, how would you feel?” Lady Riona asked.

Lady Riona looked into Taryn’s light blue eyes. She sees how Taryn’s forehead creases and how her chin starts to wobble. Her clear eyes turned darker, water filling up in them before they spilled onto her cheeks, much like the rain outside that hadn’t stopped for the past three nights.

“I don’t know,” Taryn whispered.

“But you do know, dear. It is written all over your face as I look at you right now. I want to hear you say it, however,” Lady Riona said as she turned to walk to the chair by the window and sat down. “How would you feel if King Einar Asgerson slept with that girl Tove? Or any other girl after you?” Lady Riona narrowed her eyes at Taryn. Eve stood near Lady Riona, her eyes darting from the governess to Taryn and back again.

“I…,” Taryn stopped. And then, she let out a sob. “I think I will die,” she cried.

Lady Riona sighed. She had expected this. When she found out Taryn was a virgin and the king was her first — and only — lover, she feared that Taryn would start having strong feelings for the king. It is only natural and human to be feeling that way, in Lady Riona’s opinion. However, Taryn, being an innocent child, secluded from a life of debauchery for the past seventeen years, might not be able to live like this. If it was the real Princess Orla, then maybe she would be able to cope well — probably much better than the king himself.

“Are you in love with the king?” Lady Riona asked plainly, her voice kind.

Taryn looked up from where she sat. Was she in love with King Einar?

Taryn stared into space. Taryn knows love. She knows about love. She was the product of love, wasn’t she? Not a fleeting love or lust that was often mistaken for being love, but she was the product of true love. She could only pray that one day she could experience the type of love her mother and father had for each other. She knows how to love. She had loved her grandmother with all her heart. She had cared for the old lady when she needed Taryn the most, provided for them both, and even allowed herself to be used by the Celtic king and his ministers, shipped off to a foreign country because of her love for her grandmother.

But with the Varangian king, the man whom she knew for only a few weeks, the man who had known her in the most intimate way but was still ignorant to her truths — how did she feel for him? Does she love him? Or is she in love with him?

“Ask yourself this girl,” Lady Riona began, after watching Taryn sitting there quietly. She could see the wheels in Taryn’s mind moving, thinking, her thoughts running a mile a minute. “How do you feel whenever he is around?” Lady Riona asked.

“Happy,” Taryn answered.

“Would you mind elaborating on your answers a little, please?” Lady Riona smiled, encouraging.

Taryn smiled a little and thought about it. “I feel uplifted when he is near or when I can see him and when I hear his voice. I would feel my heart beat quicker and a weird feeling would settle in my stomach. I would be overwhelmed with gladness,” Taryn answered.

“Good,” Lady Riona nodded.

“How do you see him? Not as the king that he is, but as a person,” Lady Riona asked next.

Taryn stared into space once more, her eyes trailing from the table in front of her to her bed on the opposite side of where she sat. She remembered the night the king knocked on the adjoining door connecting her room to his and asked her to be honest with him about the Celtic king. She remembered how he trusted her, and believed her answer even though he had a lot to lose if she truly was ploying against him. She remembered his open admiration when he saw her winning at the training grounds and how, in the privacy of his bedroom, he showed his pride for her through his gentleness with her, his care of her body, his soothing words.

Taryn had heard his nickname being whispered countless times when she was in the Celtic kingdom. But when she had arrived on this land and walked amongst his people, she saw the way his people, both men and women, respected him. They bowed to him not out of fear but out of veneration of the highest regard. She might not know how he gained the nickname ‘The Destroyer and Bringer of Misfortune’, but in her eyes, she thought he should be known as ‘The One Who Fights For Peace’ instead.

“I see him as a caring man, one who might have done many wrongs when he was younger but is making sure to right those wrongs now that he is older. I see him as a gentle lover, kind and understanding, not only to me but to others who are not on the same level as him. Men of his stature might have stepped on people of the lower ranks, people like us,” Taryn paused, pointing at herself, Lady Riona, and Eve, indicating their low status. “But from the day I was married to him, even though this was an arranged marriage, he has been good to me. In fact, he had been encouraging anything that I put my mind to. He encouraged me to do whatever makes me happy,” Taryn said.

“So, I would say that he is a good man. Any woman who is loved by him would be lucky,” Taryn finished.

“And so I shall ask you again, my dear. Are you in love with the king?” Lady Riona asked.

Taryn closed her eyes briefly. In her mind, she saw the way he laughed because of a silly remark she made. She then saw him walking on his land in his thin tunic, trousers, and boots towards the longhouse, his golden hair shining in the sunlight, greeting some of his men as he passed by, spending time to chat and give a hand if needed. She thought about the way he kissed the top of her head as she was about to drift off to sleep or how he would cover her shoulders when he thought she was deep in slumber. And most of all, she loved his fresh masculine smell that lingered in the mornings, exciting her, and making her feel lightheaded throughout the day.

Taryn opened her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Yes, I think I am in love with him.”

Taryn stood up and went to pick up a scarf from her cupboard. Then, she turned to look at both Lady Riona and Eve before she added, “But he must never know this.”

***

“Have something else to eat,” King Einar told Affan, the dark-skinned prisoner, in Alkebulan language, as they both sat on wooden stools outside the prisoner's cell, a small feast on the uneven stone table in front of them. Two of King Einar’s warriors, the same two who thought they heard the prisoners say the name “King Náel Sechnail”, stood guarding behind the prisoner and exchanged looks with each other, not understanding what their king was saying or why their king would even consider sitting and eating with the prisoner.

“I may not have eyes behind my head, good king, but I think your guards standing behind me would rather have these feast themselves instead of having me eating all of them up. Wouldn't it be nicer for you to ask them to join us?” Affan suggested, smiling kindly at King Einar.

“I would rather not. Maybe some other day,” King Einar answered, his eyes flicking at his warriors, catching one of them sending the other warrior a puzzled look.

“I would like to be left alone with the prisoner for now. You two may leave,” King Einar switched to his Norse language easily, dismissing both his warriors.

One of the warriors, a younger one, was hesitant at first, unwilling to leave his king with an unknown person, a prisoner at that. He was suspicious of the dark-skinned prisoner, one who looked dangerous and might hurt his king. So, he dared to look at his king’s face and asked firmly, “Are you sure, Your Grace?”

King Einar returned the young man’s stare and gave him a small smile. “Don’t worry, I know how to handle him. You may leave.”

As both warriors were about to get out of his sight, King Einar called out, “Fellows! Tell General Stig and Second-Commander Vali to come here later.”

“Yes, Your Grace!” He heard both his warriors reply in unison before their receding footsteps were no longer heard and the inside of the cave fell back into eerie silence.

Affan reached out for a fresh apple and munched on it loudly. “I have not come across such a juicy apple for a long time, lord king. This is especially delicious,” he said, smiling, showing his straight white teeth, in stark contrast to his dark skin.

“Explain to me this puzzle I’m trying to put together, Affan," King Einar began. "You see, when those two young men first guarded you and the other prisoner, Tar’mach, in my cave cells, they said they heard you two speak to each other in your foreign languages, as if you two knew each other. But here, you told me, you only met the pirates on that ship, including Tar’mach, on the night you set sail. So, did you or did you not know the pirates?” King Einar inquired.

It was a risk to have the tall prisoner outside of his prison cell and ask him this delicate question. Although King Einar was on high ground, at that moment, he was by himself. He may have his sword behind his back and his axe on his belt, but if the prisoner decided to lunge at him or throw the large stone chair at him, it might do considerable damage to his body. He would not have his general or second commander to save him in time, not even his Draki nearby to recharge the power in his body. He was on high alert, yet King Einar still decided to ask the prisoner that question.

In King Einar’s mind, he was sure of Affan’s innocence and wanted to clear the air so that it could be the beginning of a good relationship. If, however, Affan was a liar and would hurt him before trying to flee this place, the only compensation he could take to soothe himself was that the man would probably die not five steps out of the cave — it being such a perilous and deceitful path. As a consolation to King Einar, the tall man was also not as large as he used to be when he first arrived in the cave cell, since he had been starved, or almost starved, for the past few weeks. So, he might not be able to hurt King Einar very much, even if he wanted to.

“I will repeat what I have told you before, wise king. I did not know the pirates before meeting them as a slave to be sold across the Mediterranean Sea,” Affan said and bit into the apple one more time.

“I have said, I only knew my language, which is the Alkebulan, and the other language, the Anglo-Saxon. However, the prisoner whom you caught along with me, Tar’mach, was his name, you said? Even though he hadn’t spoken a word to me when we were onboard the ship, it was true that he did speak to me when we were both locked separately in our cell. That was the first time he spoke to me in Alkebulan. I had no idea he was able to speak my language, but he did,” Affan explained.

King Einar then remembered that before Tar’mach was eaten by Draki, he had said that he could speak a few languages. Maybe he could also speak Alkebulan, like himself.

“What did he say to you then?” King Einar asked.

Affan acted as if he was recalling what the dead prisoner said. After a while he replied, “He said something about not trying to speak to any of those men. He said that you all are a bloodthirsty race, killing and pillaging for gold to further advance your people. He said, by the end of the day, you most definitely would have us both killed, so it was going to be a waste of time to even say anything. He warned me not to speak of a king, but right now, I have forgotten the king’s name.”

Affan scratched his bald head and spoke quietly as if to himself, “Was it King Ráel Spiell? King Mich Snail? King Néch Sewgail? I’m not sure.”

“Náel Sechnail?” King Einar suggested, and Affan’s eyes snapped at him.

“You know this king?” Affan asked.

King Einar nodded. “Don’t you?” He asked.

“No, my lord. And that’s the thing. I was confused why Tar’mach would say the name to me, since I only knew the Saxons all my life and none other. I don’t even know who this King Neville Schmail was,” Affan answered.

King Einar tried not to smile and refrained himself from correcting the Celtic king’s name.

“Who did you think the stranger who paid the pirates to attack my warship was?” King Einar asked, handing Affan a piece of drumstick from the roasted duck in front of him.

Affan gobbled the drumstick quickly, making small moaning sounds as he helped himself with it, his eyes full of delight.

“I do not know, my lord king, truly. The man was cloaked and it was dark. Not only that, my movement was also very limited due to the chains on my wrists and my neck. It was only on the pirate’s ship that they unlocked the shackles on my wrists and neck so that I could help them with things below deck. My movement was very limited that night and I couldn't take a better look at the man. The man was mysterious to me, as it must have been to the pirates as well,” Affan answered.

King Einar sighed softly and Affan continued, “There are many types of people that come and go to that port, dear king. Some are good people but many are bad. There are brawls in the drinking shops and, often, someone will die from those brawls. There are no rules in that port, lord king, no one to govern them but themselves. That is why pirates strived there.”

King Einar nodded, accepting Affan’s explanation.

“Now let’s talk about your prophetic abilities next,” King Einar popped a grape into his mouth.

“Dear king, I have said that I am not a prophet nor a wise man,” Affan cleared his throat. Then, he continued, “These things that I sometimes see are only a version of things. Some of them are things that have happened in the past, some of them are things that might happen in the future, and some of them are things that would never happen at all.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Firstly, let me tell you when I received my first vision. It happened after I was kidn*pped, on my way to sea with other kidn*pped children after a night being kept in a small house, emptied of everything except a chamber pot. We were left to fend for ourselves on that cold night, huddling close to each other, unable to sleep from fear and the cold. On the next day, in the burning heat of the day, we then try to stay as far away as possible from each other so we can at least breathe,” Affan began, sipping the water from his cup slowly, his eyes filling with tears as he recalled that fateful day.

“I was starving, lord king, throughout the whole journey from the well where they kidn*pped me until the port across the sea where they sold me to the Saxons. I had not had food or drink for days and the hunger made me delirious,” he said.

Affan took a deep breath and continued, “That first night I dreamed that a ship that would carry a few kidn*pped children from the land I was born on would catch fire. There was no foul play, only that one of the hanging lanterns below the deck would fall and break near a barrel filled with melted fat used to light up torches. The fire would spread quickly, without giving much time for the people on board to react, especially not the kidn*pped children below deck who were all scared, unable to run, unable to swim.”

Affan sighed, “In my dream I saw the children die in the fire, before the ship slowly sank into the depths of the sea.”

Affan placed his face in his hands, shaking his head. “I was so scared. I thought it was a sign from the Almighty that that was my ending. I checked where myself and the other children were locked in, below deck. I checked to see if they had any live lanterns hanging anywhere or barrels filled with melted fat. But no, it was pretty much an empty small space, mostly filled with barrels of fish instead.”

Affan remembered when the ship he was on arrived at the port and how he was grateful to his God for saving him and the children on the ship they were on. He was glad that they did not die a gruesome death of being burned alive, or drowning in the sea when he heard an exchange between the man who brought them to the port and another fellow who was already waiting for them there. Both of the men looked like him and they spoke in Alkebulan but with a slightly different accent than his. He suspects they both came from the east.

Affan overheard the men at port recounting what happened to one of the other ships carrying kidn*pped children from another area. The man spoke loudly, harshly, of how the ship burned and of all the crew and children on it, only three men managed to jump ship and be rescued by a smaller boat near its vicinity. The children on the ship, he said, had perished along with the burned ship. The man was angry, however, because he said not only did he lose a ship but he lost so much money from all the dead children that he could not sell.

Affan cried for the dead children’s fate that day. He sobbed until he couldn’t speak. He cried harder than when he was first kidn*pped from his parent’s home. He couldn’t understand why he was able to see all that yet not given the opportunity to do anything about it.

“My visions are such, lord king, that I only see bits and pieces, yet do not know what they really mean until it is upon me or until it has happened. And sometimes, my vision will never happen, because in between the time it should happen, something or someone changes their course of action, which in turn changes the outcome of it. At the end of the day, everyone is in charge of their own decisions because God gives to man what He does not give to any of His other creations,” Affan said.

After a moment of silence, King Einar asked, “Which was?”

“Choice.”