A Royal Sacrifice Ch. 22

John chuckled. "Yes, I know."

"So . . . have you decided?"

John sighed, sliding his sword back within its sheath. He knew Drest was going to get around to the subject sooner or later. "It just seems so . . . incredible," he said. "Am I truly a bastard son of royalty, cousin to the Queen? I don't feel a damn bit different, to tell the truth. I do not feel as if my blood has suddenly become blue."

Drest smiled. "There is no difference between the blood of royals and commons," he said. He tapped his temple. "The difference lies within here--" He placed his hand over his heart. "--and here."

John nodded. "To think that some day, I may have the chance or reason to rule a kingdom," he mused. "Being a Knight is daunting enough."

The corner of Drest's mouth curled knowingly. "Yet you have taken to it with some ease."

"Aye, some," John said meaningfully. "I lead the Royal Guard only because I must. Two captains slain, Cedric taken . . . it falls to me to guide them, though I do not feel I am particularly good at it."

"I beg to differ," Drest said. "Only months ago, you were a stable hand. Yet I – and everyone else, I dare say – would be hard pressed to see you in that role now. Your bearing has always been regal, whether you realized it or not. Now it shows."

"You give me too much credit, Prince."

Drest grinned and clasped the knight's shoulder. "Better get used to it, John," he said. "After all, if Evie and I are wed, it would not be very feasible for I to sit upon the throne of Ural, whilst she rules Vix. Call me a romantic, but I'd prefer to have my Queen beside me."

John frowned, an expression of astonishment passing over his face. "You cannot mean . . . ."

Drest winked. "Think about it . . . King John," he said.

The young knight watched as Prince Drest turned and strode away. The shock on John's face remained, long after the Prince had disappeared within the manor.

King John . . . oh, God, what an ironic lord you are . . . .

***

Eric crouched behind a shelf of rock, overlooking the large cavern below. In the middle of the spacious natural chamber lay what looked like a large table in the shape of an 'X,' with manacles attached to each of the four arms. Eric's eyes narrowed as he gazed upon it, wondering what nefarious need the wizard had for such a device. Then his eyes drifted toward the form of the young man held captive.

His heart had at first sunk upon seeing Cedric hanging limply between the two wooden posts, thinking the young knight already dead. But now, as one of the bandits held a waterskin to Cedric's lips, from which the knight drank deeply, hope flared anew in Eric's heart.

One, two, three . . . eleven bandits in all, just in this chamber alone, Eric thought dismally. At my best, I doubt I could take on more than three or four. He quietly rest his axe against the rock before him and unslung the crossbow. A bolt snapped into place with the slightest sound. Carefully, Eric raised the powerful weapon to his shoulder, sighting along the shaft of the quarrel.

How many? Eric wondered. How many could I claim before they rushed up here to surround me? How many could I slay before I was cut down?

For several moments, feeling clammy sweat upon his brow, Eric kept the crossbow trained on the bandit before Cedric. His fingers lightly squeezed the cocking lever, ready to let it loose.

He stiffened as cold steel was pressed against his cheek, the sharp, slightly curved tip of a rapier. "Release that bolt, Eric, and you will have a new mouth on the side of your face."

Idiot! Eric berated himself. Gritting his teeth, he carefully set the crossbow upon the ground beside him and stood, slowly rising to his feet. He turned to face Guy Dorr, who stepped back, the rapier extended and ready to thrust. Behind him stood a pair of bandits, bows held at the ready with arrows knocked.

"Fancy meeting like this," quipped Dorr, his expression smug. "I must say I am impressed that you found us."

Eric glowered. "I should have known you would throw in with the wizard."

Guy chuckled. "I don't like to lose," he said, stepping back further. Though his eyes remained on Eric, he spoke to the brigands. "He came to find his friend," Dorr said. "I see no reason why we cannot oblige him."

"Come on, you," barked one of the brigands to Eric. The giant grumbled under his breath and reluctantly stepped forward, passing Guy Dorr.

"May God damn you for eternity," he snarled.

Guy scoffed. "If I thought that God cared, I might be worried," he snipped, watching Eric being escorted away. His smile faded quickly. You had better hold up your part of the bargain, Bagdemagus.

***

Closing the door softly behind him, Prince Drest looked across the room to where Evelyn stood before the window, watching the setting sun. The golden radiance that washed over her body brought out the inherent beauty of her features, making her eyes sparkle and skin glow. Her pale dress became nearly translucent, revealing the shape of firm young breasts with no need for the bodice to hold them up.

"My God, you are beautiful," Drest muttered.

Evelyn looked his way, a sad smile decorating her lips. It disappeared as she returned to her admiration of the land below. "'Tis almost sundown," she said, as if to herself. "The wizard will be coming for me."

Drest approached behind her, settling his hands to her bare shoulders. "I won't let him."

The Queen sighed, leaning against him. "We've none of us any choice in the matter," she said. Casually, her fingers touched a tiny charm hanging from around her neck. It looked like a finely-polished gem to Drest.

"A new piece of jewelry?"

Evelyn let out a short laugh. "My kingdom's salvation," she said. "I convinced the Lord Chamberlain to give it to me. Not many know he is also an apothecary."

Drest frowned. "An apothecary? What need—"

"Once the wizard has me, and he lets Cedric go, I will place this in my mouth and bite down upon it. The poison will do the rest."

A spike of anxiety shot through Drest's heart, and he whirled Evelyn around. "You cannot do this!"

Her expression was blank, full of resignation and resolve. "'Tis the only way, my love," she said, affectionately touching his face. "I will save the kingdom, and I will save my friend."

Emotion flooded Drest's eyes. "I can't let you, Evie," he declared. "I love you too much."

Evelyn's eyes softened. "I love you, as well," she said, before her features inexplicably hardened. "But I am your queen," she said firmly, stepping past.

"I don't care!" cried Drest after her, following the Queen into her chambers. "You are the woman I intend to wed! Together, we will rule the Twin Kingdoms, and Bagdemagus will be naught but a memory! Something to frighten our children about when they are unruly!"

She whirled about with a fanning of her petticoat. "Is that your official proposal, Drest?"

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "How can you be so bloody calm about this? If I didn't know any better, I would think you are looking forward to it!"

"At least it will be over," Evelyn said in a small voice.

Drest stepped toward her, locking eyes with her. "For you, yes. The kingdom will be saved, yes. But the wizard will still be alive. And vengeful. Do you think he will just go away? Do you not think that perhaps, out of spite, he will come for your dearest friends? One by one, he will find a way to slay them all. Muriel, John, Benedict—"

"Stop it!" screeched Evelyn.

"—me."

Evelyn trembled, revealing true emotion at last. "I don't know what else to do," she said. "I was so sure someone would find Cedric and rescue him . . . so sure . . . ." She fell to the bed, burying her face in her hands.

Drest lowered himself to his knees, looking up at the Queen. "Do you love me?" he asked.

Evelyn sniffled, lifting her head. Her cheeks were shiny with tears, eyes ringed with red. "What?"

"Do you love me?" repeated the Prince.

She touched his face. "Love isn't enough," she whispered.

His eyes were strong, gaze direct. "It was enough for you to sacrifice yourself for the sake of your friend and kingdom," he said. "Is it not enough to promise that you will accept my proposal when I give it?"

Evelyn clutched the prince's hands. "Then give it," she said. "Here. Now."

Slowly, Drest shook his head. "I cannot," he said. "I need one more day."

Tears dripped freshly from Evelyn's eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I love you. Promise me."

Evelyn shuddered as she drew in a deep breath. "I-I . . . ."

Drest waited, patiently, reassuringly massaging the Queen's hands.

Finally, Evelyn straightened, letting out a heavy breath. With one last sniffle, she nodded silently.

"That is not a promise," Drest said with a small smile.

Evelyn choked out a laugh. "You're insufferable," she said. "How can you still have hope?"

"Because God would not have seen fit to bring us together, only to take you from me."

Firmly, Evelyn squeezed the Prince's hands. "You've never given up on me," she said, then lowered her eyes. "Sometimes, I feel so ashamed, so . . . unworthy of such attention."

"But you are, Evie. My heart is not so easily given."

A weak smile stretched Evelyn's lips. "I want to believe that we will all survive, that this nightmare will end and—"

"We will," interrupted Drest. "It will. Now . . . promise me."

Apprehensively, Evelyn swallowed, then nodded once more. "I . . . I promise, Drest. When you offer a proposal of marriage, I will accept it."

Drest smiled genuinely, straightening take Evelyn in his arms. She melted yearningly against him, clutching tightly. He smoothed his hands across her back, through her hair, feeling the gentle shudders in his Queen's body. "Faith," he whispered. "Have faith in, if nothing else, my love for you."

"I love you," she whispered in return, pulling back only slightly so that she could see Drest's face. Her softened with desire. "I want you."

Drest said nothing before Evelyn kissed him, smothering his lips with hers, moaning softly into his mouth. Their passion escalated quickly, hands roaming with animalistic need and abandon. Evelyn gasped with pleasure, breaking the kiss and leaning back, allowing Drest to release her bodice, pulling down the fabric of her dress to expose creamy, firm breasts.

"Yes," she hissed, arching her back, pushing her breast to Drest's mouth. A soft cry of passion caught in her throat at the heat of his mouth, the loving swipes of his tongue across her nipple, the grazing of his teeth. Her hands held his head firmly against her bosom, bringing him with her as she moved up along the bed. Her legs spread invitingly beneath Drest as the Prince settled between.

Instincts guided them, instincts powered my passion. Supporting himself above Evelyn, Drest kissed her deeply, grinding himself between her thighs. The heat of her sex burned through the layers between them, especially once her petticoat and skirt were pushed up to her waist, and all that protected her was a single layer of silk.

"Let me make love to you, Evie," moaned the Prince, slipping a hand down between them, cupping her damp and needy sex.

Breath escaped, hot and moist, from Evelyn's lips. Her fingers threaded their way through Drest's hair as needy moans escaped her throat. Her hips rose and fell, pushing her sex against his probing fingers. She ached for him, to feel him within her. The need was so palpable it weighed upon her more than Drest's body, more than the impending threat of Bagdemagus . . . .

Bagdemagus.

With a breathless gasp, Evelyn pushed against her lover, forcing him to release a stiff, wet nipple from his lips. "Drest."

His eyes bore into hers. "'Tis not what you think, Evie. I love you."

A calming breath filled her lungs, making her breasts heave. "And I love you," she said. "But . . . I . . . ." She frowned, trying to find her words. With a frustrated huff, she gently pushed Drest away and sat up, lacing her bodice once more. The passion that had just moments before consumed her seemed so far away now.

"It is all right, Evie," whispered Drest, moving up to sit beside her and rest his chin upon her shoulder. "It is important to you to defeat Bagdemagus without cheating him out of your virginity, isn't it? Even if it costs your life."

Solemnly, she nodded. "It is."

Slowly, Drest reached beneath her chin with a single finger, bidding her to look his way. "Only a Queen would think that way."

Evelyn's eyes glittered. "My dear Prince," she said. "That is the most wonderful thing you have ever said to me."

He smiled, lightly kissed her soft lips. "I will have to remember that, then," he said.

Evelyn stood, fixing her dress. The sky was darkening, with a crimson glow just above the horizon. Wind stirred the Queen's long, lush hair as she stood before the windows once more. "I suppose it is only a matter of time before the wizard calls upon me," she mused.

"Sooner than you think."

The dark voice startled the Queen and Drest both, prompting the Prince to action. He bolted up from the bed, smoothly drawing the dagger at his belt as he blocked Evelyn with his body. He stared down along the glimmering blade at the figure which approached from the outer room.

"So you've come, wizard."

Bagdemagus nodded shallowly, holding out his hand. He looked past the Prince to Evelyn. "It is time, my Queen," he said.

Drest spoke before Evie could part her lips. "I think not," he said firmly. "You must first get through me. You will find that difficult to do."

Bagdemagus looked amused. "Your bravery is misplaced, Drest," he said. "Killing you would serve nothing. The ritual will commence, and there is not a thing you can do to stop it. I am taking Evie."

The Prince glared. "Only by stepping over my corpse," he growled.

"Drest--" began the Queen.

The wizard sneered. "Easily arranged," he said.

Evelyn cried out as a figure leaped from behind, pushing her aside and descending upon Drest. The Queen tumbled to the floor, slipping her own dagger free of its sheath, ready to defend herself. What transpired before her was nearly over before she could make sense of it.

Bagdemagus kept his distance as the two men struggled, the dark-garbed invader pressing his weight down upon Drest's back. There was a flash of steel in a black-gloved hand, before it disappeared beneath the Prince's chin. A flick, a gurgle, and Drest collapsed to the ground, blood spilling out from his neck.

Evelyn stared, eyes wide with shock and fear, lips trembling. The abruptness of what she had just witnessed made it all seem surreal. She stared at her Prince, her love, seeing only his closed eyes as he lay unmoving, the crimson puddle growing around his face. "D-D-Drest," she whispered.

Guy Dorr straightened over the Prince's body, wiping spittle from his mouth. "That went smoother than expected," he said casually, then gave a nod to the wizard. His eyes glanced briefly to the Queen.

"L-Lord Dorr?" she queried, heart palpitating. Furtive eyes danced back and forth from the traitor to the body upon the floor. She could find no voice with which to carry the scream that welled within her breast.

Bagdemagus smiled smugly as he lifted his foot over Drest's body. "As you said, only by stepping over your corpse," he muttered, then reached for the Queen . . . .

***

John's fingers danced nervously along the edges of the earthenware cup he held between his knees. Grams sat expectantly across the tiny table in her little home, waiting for her grandson to speak.

"I understand why you never told me," he said at last, his eyes addressing the floor. "But it is still difficult to accept."

"Are you certain you understand why this secret has been kept, all these decades?"

John lifted his head, confusion evident upon his face. "Well, the kingdom would have been embarrassed, of course."

Grams chuckled softly. "Given all that you have learned about the wizard," she said. "I would expect you to have realized a few things."

John's frowned deepened. "What does this have to do with the Spectre?"

Grams took a breath. "It was not a terrible secret that I entertained King Alfred," she said. "But what was kept secret was my eventual pregnancy. That was your mother, of course. Alfred was a bit miffed about that, but not for the reasons you would expect. He had wanted me to sire a son, in case Richard fell victim to Bagdemagus."

John's mind reeled. "I do not understand."

Grams fixed her grandson with a level stare. "The fate of this kingdom has always been linked to Bagdemagus," she revealed. "He was King Maxwell's advisor, originally. I am sure you did not know that."

John shook his head slowly. "No."

"When Vix came under Maxwell's rule, he wrested it from the hands of a very evil man," she explained. "With the wizard's help. You see, Bagdemagus was not always as cruel and vindictive as he is now. But . . . that is a different story, one that is not pertinent now. What is important is that Maxwell and Bagdemagus had a terrible falling-out. The wizard has been seeking vengeance upon the Royal Family ever since."

"What happened between the wizard and King Maxwell?"

Grams shrugged. "That, even I do not know," she lamented. "But whatever it was, it was enough to instill in Bagdemagus a hatred so intense for Maxwell's progeny that he has been taking his revenge ever since. Not a single member of the royal family, whether confirmed or not, has been safe. Not a one."

A dark hand suddenly gripped John's heart as he read into Grams' words. His eyes were hard as he spoke two simple words.

"My mother."

Solemnly, Grams nodded her head. "It was fortunate that she was able to hide you away before the Spectre came for her."

John ground his teeth. A quiet rage simmered in his heart.

"So, you see," Grams continued. "You and I have a vested interest in this as well. I have waited decades for this day, grandson."

John swallowed the lump in his throat and straightened, pushing to his feet. The leather of his armor creaked slightly with his movements. He gave his grandmother a determined look.

"Bagdemagus dies tonight."

***

Benedict pushed open the door to the Queen's chambers slowly, stepping before the four members of the Royal Guard who accompanied him. There had been no answer to his repeated knocks, and he had grown fearful.

"Evelyn?" he called out. "Dre--" Words froze on his lips as he saw the body laying upon the floor amid a broad pool of ochre.

"Is that the Prince?" asked one of the guard, venturing forward. But Benedict stopped the young man.

"I will see to him," he said firmly, then approached Drest. His eyes searched the chambers, looking through the archway to the Queen's bed. He could see no trace of Evelyn. Gingerly, he knelt beside Drest, touching the corpse's shoulder. He frowned when he felt unexpected warmth within the body, and nearly leapt from his own skin when Drest moaned.

"Prince!" cried Benedict, gripping the man's shoulder and rolling him onto his back. Drest's features clouded, and he coughed, blood sputtering on his lip. The left side of his face was soaked in the congealing fluid, but there was no wound upon him . . . only a small cloth bladder stuck next to his neck.

". . . Evelyn . . . ."

"I do not see her," Benedict said as the Prince sat up, touching his head. Drest's hand dragged down his face, and he pulled it away, staring at the thick blood on his fingers.

"What happened?"

"I would ask you the same," Benedict replied anxiously.

Drest sighed, taking a handkerchief out and wiping his face. "The wizard," he said, features dark and contorted as he recalled what had happened. "And there was someone with him . . . Lord Dorr."