Sword & Illusion Chapter One
The bedchamber on the top floor of the mountain hermitage was dark and he was almost overwhelmed with the heavy odors of incense and lemon weed. Several Monks of the Tinaldor Order, charged with caring for the dying and unwanted, hovered around the bed, praying and waving smoldering sticks over the woman lying there.
Prince Varian, ruler of Tellan, entered the room and stared at the thin, weak figure who lay in the opulent bed.
His illusory disguise slipped a little when he recognized the face of Princess Violetta Eugenia Francine. As grief and regret overwhelmed him, the minimal concentration required for the spell was disrupted a bit. Fortunately, the monks attending her were not looking in his direction when it happened.
As far as they knew, he was Emory, Duke of Wellsbury, an elderly relative of Violetta’s from Andarnnon.
He grabbed the door frame to steady the trembling that shook him. The urge to turn and leave this place was strong, but he had to talk to her, had to find out why she’d left him, why she’d stayed away and let him think she’d died.
Memories of watching another wife, and an infant son, die were still fresh in his mind and his heart ached to escape, but Varian wanted to be as strong as possible to hear whatever she had to say.
He took a deep breath and pulled himself together.
“I am gratified you came, Your Highness,” Violetta said as he walked farther into the room. Her voice was weak and breathy. “There is much we need to discuss before I go to my final judgment.” She attempted to sit up straighter in her bed but collapsed back onto the pillows, coughing.
The prince glanced around the room as the Monk Attendants ministered to her.
Leave it to Violetta to hide in the only hermitage in the Known Worlds that considered sitting a form of vanity and refused to have chairs even for visitors.
He watched as one of the Monks offered her a drink while another one wiped sweat from her forehead.
She’d been so beautiful on the day the Dragon of Tellan, Silverbeacon, had Marked her, signifying she was worthy to thwart the Curse. Varian had stood on the platform as she walked up to him, silently thanking the Holy One for His mercy in giving him such a beautiful bride.
“I’m sorry you have to see me in this condition,” Violetta said when the Monks stepped out of the room, “but I fear I have little time to say what must be said.”
“Don’t talk about dying,” he said. “You’re still a young woman, still one of the most stunning women I’ve ever known.”
“You’re still a gracious man,” she said, and then she shook her head. “I’m dying. I’ve accepted that. The Monks and their healers have done all they can for me. I’m almost ready to go. I just need to make things right between us.”
He waited, wondering what she would say that would change anything.
“I’m asking for your forgiveness, Your Majesty,” she said, wheezing into her handkerchief.
“Don’t call me that. You’re not my subject.” He sighed and shook his head. “I forgive you. It was almost fifteen years ago. We were both too young to marry, even if the Dragon decreed it. We should have waited, gotten to know each other better.
“You don’t understand.” Violetta began coughing again.
He waited.
“I am not asking for your forgiveness for leaving you,” she said after a few moments. “I did what I had to do. I couldn’t live with all the magic.”
“But you knew Tellan was a world of wizards before we married.” This was an old argument. Why was she talking about this now?
“I tried to do my duty, both to my family and to you. You were so kind and I began to see that maybe my fears were just irrational superstitions.”
She smiled and regardless of the years that had passed, Varian could see a hint of the girl he’d taken into his home and, eventually, his bed.
“I thought that your promise to use your magic less was a workable compromise. I thought that we could bring peace to our lands.” She closed her eyes. “It is an illusion. All of it.”
Varian held himself very still, wondering at her word choice and hoping his suspicions were wrong.
“What is an illusion?”
“All of it,” she said and began coughing again. Varian hurried to a small table where a pitcher of water and some cups sat.
“I know the truth of Tellan,” she said. “And all these years, I’ve kept your secret.”
“What secret?”
Violetta sighed and seemed to sink deeper into her cushions. “It happened close to our first anniversary. I was beginning to feel happy on Tellan. I hadn’t seen the insidious magic use I had come to fear. The world was beautiful and you had been so attentive. Life seemed wonderful.”
She sighed again; however, this time it sounded as though she was thinking about good times.
She shook her head and looked at her clasped hands. “One day, I took a ride on the horse you’d given me. Ruby Moonbeam. Do you remember?”
The prince nodded. “I named her that because your hair reminded me of red precious jewels touched by moonlight.”
Violetta smiled weakly. “No one else could speak poetry the way you did.”
“What happened that day?” Varian asked.
“I rode out with Tayla, my maid.” She sighed. “We had spoken with Estelle and wanted to head to the textile quarter of Rasoul to buy new silk for gowns.” A wistful smile crossed her face.
“I loved to shop. I’d never ridden that far away from the palace without you. I felt completely safe, though, and Tayla and I chatted as we rode. Soon, though, we were lost.”
Varian tightened his grip on the corner post of the bed.
She continued, “I saw a beautiful cottage, something I had never seen before. It sat beside the opening to a cave.”
“Did you go inside?”
Violetta nodded. “The entrance was surrounded by flowers and I saw a table with food and drink just inside. I thought it was just part of the paradise that Tellan was.”
Varian gripped the post so hard his fingers ached, but if he let go, he would collapse.
“And?”
“I heard snoring and became curious, so I investigated. The path led underground to a chamber where…” Her voice trailed off.
Varian didn’t have to question her further. He knew exactly what she’d seen, but it was unlikely she could understand the implications of her discovery.
“You saw a giant, sleeping.”
She nodded and wiped a tear. “I didn’t understand and I ran back out of the cave. I wanted to find you and question you about this.”
He knelt next to her. “Why didn’t you? I could have calmed you fears.” He didn’t know what he would have said to this so many years ago, but surely, he could have kept her from running away.
“As I rode in the direction I thought led back to the palace, I saw a tower.” She wiped away a tear. “I saw your horse, Obsidian Twilight, tied up outside. I thought I could go inside and talk to you and you’d help.”
“Did you go inside?” he asked.
“I wish I hadn’t. I wanted to talk to you, but you were talking to some wizards… Her voice trailed off.
He nodded, unable to speak.
“They were strange men, unlike anyone else I’d seen on your world. From the conversation I overheard, I realized that somehow they, with the help of that giant, kept Tellan from returning to the barren world Rillaur’s ancestors believed it to be.”
She looked up at him. “It was then that I knew the truth. Your whole world is an illusion, held together with the deep magic of the Dreaming Giants.”
Varian sighed and stared at the ceiling. “It’s not as bad as you’re making it sound. If only you’d talked to me…”
Violetta interrupted him. “Did she leave before talking to you about it, too?”
The strength and acid in Violetta’s voice shocked him. He stared at her. “Who?”
“The second wife. I know the Dragon selected a wife for you after you declared me dead. I also know you aren’t wearing your hair long and pulled back like married wizards are required to do.”
“She didn’t leave me,” Varian said, his head beginning to ache. He ran his hand through his hair automatically. “Elizabeth Louise wasn’t afraid of magic.”
Violetta stared at him and Varian waited for her to start coughing again. However, talking about Varian’s second wife seemed to make her stronger. He wondered if she was jealous or angry that after thirteen years of fruitlessly searching for her, he’d finally moved on with his life.
“Who was she?” Violetta asked.
Varian sighed. “It doesn’t matter, Violetta. She died, five months ago, along with my son. They succumbed to the red cough.”
She gasped. “I’m sorry for your loss, Varian.”
Neither of them spoke for several moments.
“I wish you’d stayed with me.” He sighed.
“Do you?” She smiled at him. “Did you really love me?”
He sighed. “Maybe. I don’t know about love, but we could have made our marriage work.”
Taking her hand, he said, “Why didn’t you talk to me? We could have worked through it.”
“It wasn’t that simple.” She paused, shaking her head. “I was so young and so bitter. I wanted to trust you, but you lied about the whole world.”
“How could I know that you wouldn’t run to your father and brother?” he asked. “If they knew the secrets, they could destroy Tellan.”
“I’ve kept your secrets even now.”
Varian stood up. “I’m glad.”
“There is more. You must hear the rest. Especially now that my father is dead and my brother has taken the throne of Andarnnon. He wants Tellan, you know.”
“That is not a secret, Violetta. I fear Rillaur may now have a chance at his prize after all.” The Dragon Moon would return in half a year and there was no heir. Varian knew he should be on his world, preparing his people.
“Yes, and for that I am also sorry, but you should know there may be chance to thwart the Curse for another generation.”
“How?” he asked. “Even if I had a wife, a child could not be born in such a short period of time.”
She took a deep breath and pulled her eyes away from his. “You had a daughter, an heir.”
Varian stared at her. “A daughter?” He shook his head. “Perhaps the medication you take has clouded your mind. We had no child.”
Violetta nodded and took a long breath. “About eight months after we got married I discovered I was with child. I thought this would be the thing that truly made us a happy family. I was going to tell you at a special dinner. Then I discovered your secret.
“At first, I couldn’t decide whether to stay or leave. I couldn’t bear the thought of living in a place where even the air I breathed was dependent on magic, but I thought I should stay with you because of the child. I was confused and took to staying in my rooms for days at a time.”
Varian nodded. “I remember that.” The memories weren’t pleasant; it was a frustrating time for him.
She took another breath and shook her head. “The child used her magic to enter my dreams.” She shuddered. “I felt violated. I had not anticipated anything like that. I thought that even if she had magic it would be years before we knew for sure and by then, surely I would love her enough to overlook it.”
Varian nodded and sighed. “It was the dream magic.”
The two of them were silent for a moment, each lost in his or her own thought about the child, the daughter, they had lost.
He opened his eyes. “What happened to her? Where is she?”
“Please forgive me. I placed her on a large stone in a stream in Southern Lireek. I left her there.”
“To die?” Varian’s knees threatened to buckle under him. He could not believe what he was hearing.
“Before she was born, I thought I would kill her myself, maybe I’d jump from a cliff and end both our lives,” Violetta said, her voice breaking. She clutched the bedclothes to her chest and gasped back several sobs.
Varian felt the room spin as he struggled to draw a breath. He sat down hard on the edge of her bed and dropped his head in his hands.
“Please try to understand,” she pleaded. “I spent my days in terror and anguish, but when she was born…”
She shook her head. “She was so beautiful and so small, I couldn’t do it. I believed that leaving her on the rock wasn’t really killing her…”
“No, it was letting the weather or wild animals kill her. Maybe even starvation.” Varian looked at her, feeling anger build within him.
“No,” she gasped and a coughing fit overtook her.
When she had gathered her strength again, she said, “It wasn’t like you think. I did not kill her, I gave her a chance. I trusted her to the will of the Holy One.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t bring the Holy One into this. You weren’t thinking of anything but your own stupid superstitions. There’s no way to deny it; you condemned an innocent baby to a horrible death for your own convenience.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. “You never even gave me the chance to know my own child.”
His ferocity of his outburst surprised even him, but the grief for his son Cyprian and his second wife was still fresh. Her news seemed to rip his already bruised heart into tattered shreds.
“Varian, I regret all my past actions. I wanted you to come here to beg your forgiveness.” She looked into his eyes. “Surely, you must have things you regret about our marriage.”
“I did not kill our child,” Varian heard his voice crack. He hadn’t realized how strong his emotions had become.
“I feared that she would kill me,” Violetta said. “I never imagined such terrifying magic. Please, forgive me.” Tears ran down Violetta’s face.
“Forgive you?” He was silent for several moments. “Because of your selfishness, I’ve lost my daughter. Not only that, but Tellan will suffer from the Dragon’s Curse. Should I ask my people to forgive you, too? I don’t think so.”
He couldn’t hold back the racking sob that rose up in his throat. “I don’t know if I will ever be able to forgive you.”
He couldn’t go on, so he abruptly turned away and headed for the door. He closed it behind him and put his head in his hands.
He could hear Violetta’s sobbing, but he could not bring himself to give her forgiveness or comfort. He walked away with a heart full of shadows.
***
Anthelme approached Prince Varian who sat at a table outside a café in Onnuliett, one of the Portal Cities on World Coragon, just a day’s ride from the citadel where the monks of Tinaldor cared for the sick.
“The Portal Master says we can’t get to Arma for at least another day,” the valet said.
Varian stared at the Portal gate. He’d come here right from Violetta’s bedside, wanting to get away from this place as soon as possible.
However, it looked like the soonest he could leave would be sometime the next day. Several large groups, including people and animals, waited for the master to let them through.
“What is so squid-bleeding important that all these people and their vermin have to all leave Coragon at the same time?”
Anthelme took a deep breath and brushed his long light brown hair out of his eyes. “The Portal Master says there are two royal weddings on World Erlantz this moon cycle and apparently they require families to arrive ten days beforehand with their entire households, including cattle. Also, two villages in the southern parts of Coragon were flooded out and the the refugees are fleeing to World Sefilo until their homes can be rebuilt.”
“This is just steaming, screaming wonderful.” The prince drank his whole tankard of ale in one gulp. “What am I supposed to do now?”
Anthelme sat down across the table from him, his tall, slight frame dropping easily in the chair. “I would suggest that you could just be patient, but that doesn’t seem to be your plan.”
“Patient?” Varian said, turning his attention from the mass of living things waiting at the Portal to his friend. “What benefit does being patient get me?”
The serving girl arrived with more ale. Anthelme pulled a few coins out of the pouch hanging from his belt and held them out to her.
When she reached for them, he captured her hand in his.
“Thank you so much for the drinks,” he said, smiling. “My friend and I have had a bad day and your lovely face makes it better.”
She smiled as he released her hands, leaving the coins in her palm. “Thank you, sir.”
Varian watched her count the coins. A moment later, she gasped and looked at Anthelme, who winked. She hurried away.
“What did you do?” Varian asked.
His friend’s blue eyes crinkled in amusement. “I might have paid her a little more than the price of the drinks.”
“Are you determined to spend all of our money before we get back to the palace?”
“I’m just assuring us good service. We might be here for awhile.”
The wench brought the fresh drinks.
When she left, Varian took a big swig of the beverage. “I don’t want to be here a while. I want to get home.”
“Are you going to try to find your daughter?
“As much as I want to believe that the child could still be alive, it’s a slim hope.” Varian shook his head. As unlikely as it was that the child could have survived, the faint hope tormented him.
“A slim hope is still a hope. Maybe that’s enough to hold on to. Maybe someone living on Lireek saved your daughter. If that’s true, and you found her, all your problems would be solved.”
Varian shook his head, his mood now dark. “If the child still lived, Rillaur would have found her.”
“Maybe he didn’t know about the pregnancy either.”
The prince shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible, but Rillaur wasn’t one to ignore his interests like that.”
“Surely, he didn’t see his sister as just one of ‘his interests’.”
“Of course he does,” Varian said. He took another sip of his ale. His head was beginning to ache and he knew it was time to head up to the room they’d secured. They weren’t getting through the Portal tonight.
“That seems a cynical way to look at your brother-in-law.”
Varian shook his head. “He’s not my brother-in-law. She was declared dead by Tellan law–”
“You mean you.”
“–so that ended our relationship. I’m sure he’s not sitting in his palace thinking about how lucky he is that I’m related to him.”
At this, Anthelme laughed. “Maybe he is. You never know.”
“I know.”
The inn’s dining room, which had been filled with a low buzz as guests chatted and enjoyed their meal, suddenly grew quiet.
Varian saw the amused expression leave Anthelme’s face, so he turned to look at the door.
One of the Monks of Tinaldor stood awkwardly in the doorway, clutching a scroll to his chest and looking around the dim room. The man was short, almost a child’s height, and his rough brown robes seemed to nearly swallow him.
“I’ll bet it’s for you,” Anthelme said, jerking his chin toward the new visitor.
The prince sighed and stood up. “I’m sure it is.”
When the Monk saw him, a look of relief and recognition appeared on his face. “Duke Emory, I’m glad you haven’t left yet.”
The small man’s eyes grew soft and he handed the scroll and a book to Varian.
As he unrolled it, the prince felt the color leave his face, and he dropped into a nearby chair. Anthelme rushed to his side.
“What is it?”
“Violetta is dead.”
“May the Holy One have mercy on her soul.” The Monk bowed his head and Anthelme followed his lead.
“May it be as you say,” Varian replied, blinking back unwanted tears.
He closed the scroll and handed it back to the Monk. He set the book on the table. “When did it happen?”
“Within the last candlemark, Sir.”
“Thank you.”
With a bow, the Monk turned and left the inn.
“Just a few moments ago, Anthelme.” A part of him ached at the lost opportunity to go back and forgive her. Another part was glad that she would face Judgment without it.
“I heard. Come back to our table, Sire. You are attracting a bit of attention here.”
Varian glanced around to see that several patrons were watching him, while pretending they weren’t. He stood up and followed his valet back to their table in the corner.
“At least you got to see her before she died,” Anthelme said after asking the serving girl to bring more ale.
“I wish I hadn’t.”
“You can’t mean that, Sire. Surely this visit gave both of you some feeling of closure.”
Varian shook his head. ” told her I couldn’t forgive her for what she did to our child.”
He stared at the table. “My father would be ashamed of me, not to mention that my mother’s heart would break knowing that her son had the opportunity to ease someone’s passage to the next world and I refused. And my own wife, too.”
The ale arrived and without looking at his friend, Varian took the tankard and emptied it in one breath.
“I should have forgiven her.” However, he wasn’t sure he could have.
“She left your child to die,” Anthelme said, gently. “Your reaction is understandable.”
Varian sighed and look at his friend. “My mother cared for the dying on Tellan. You know that. She raised all of her children to understand that whatever has gone before, when a person is facing that journey, he or she deserved forgiveness and peace.”
He shook his head. “I denied her that.”
Anthelme sighed. “The Holy One is merciful, Sire. I’m sure she had received the peace you were unable to give.”
“I can only pray that’s true.”
Varian glanced at the book. “This is her prayer book,” he said, almost
to himself. “I remember how frustrated I would be seeing her reading from this when she could have been talking to me.”
He opened the book. A stalk of dried thistle had been pressed between the pages.
“Why would she save a weed like that?” Anthelme asked.
Varian shook his head. “Who knows why Violetta did anything?”
