I meant to get this out last night, but it has been so hectic around here catching up from being sick. So this week it is the Wednesday Night Storytime. This week’s story took a little turn from the path. I had the thought, what if there were another reason why the man needed to die? Well, you will see what I mean. This week’s story is told through a new perspective as well, the Queen’s. I think both story lines will be very important to the overall tale.

I wonder what will happen from here? It’s hard to tell. Remember, if you have ideas or something you would like explained, or if you want to help decide where it goes from here, just post it in a comment. I’ll try to take those into account.

As always, I hope you enjoy the story. Click here to read any missed parts.

Queen Kiarsi Modros felt sick to her stomach as she approached the path out of the forest. With Pekosh no longer in sight, she spit out the herb he had given her. Not that it was the cause of the pain she felt. The source of that lay in what she had accomplished here today; and whether or not it was the right decision.

It had been difficult to maintain the frozen position of her feigned poisoning through everything that happened, there had been no toxin in her blood forcing it. It was imperative that he believe he held the high ground from the start in their meeting, and the poison from the elycior flower seemed a good choice. She was not so ignorant as the Zeegrak seemed to think, another thing that was important to maintain. Her hands touched softly at the pack around her neck. Ironically, it contained some of that very poison. It did wonders for interrogation after all.

The Zeegrak was a dangerous and cold man, bitter in his dealings with humans. It had not always been that way, she remembered, but the man she knew as a child was long gone it seemed. Had there been another way that she could see, she would have taken it in an instant. As things were, there was no other way. Nobody had the deadly efficiency that Pekosh did. She forced a nod to help convince herself of that.

The grin he left with disturbed her. She knew what kind of man he was, and he wouldn’t hesitate for a second to draw a dagger across the young heir’s throat, especially an heir to that name. Yet she had done nothing to truly prevent it. She could have given the order and guaranteed his safety, but she did not. Sure, she had said to leave him be, but why had she not ordered it outright? Maybe she really was as weak as he accused.

The line of men in formation outside the forest line visibly relaxed when they saw her. Or some did anyway. It was her duty to separate those that did not; and to remember them. Sir Jorda rode out to meet her. The captain of her guard had done so hundreds of times, but he made it seem important even after all these years.

“How did it go, my Lady?”

“Precisely as planned, but whether it was for better or worse… Well, we shall see.”

The knight nodded solemnly. “Now we wait, and see if prophecy and reality are one in the same.”

“Do you think it will change him?”

The knight thought hard before answering, “I think so, yes. By all accounts he carries all other requirements for the ritual, it is probably true. But does he know of the ritual, and would it even work if he does? That is another matter. There is also another way of looking at it…”

She thought of Pekosh’s reaction to hearing Lord Byron had the amulet.  She knew that he was fully in the know of that at least. “No, Jorda. We have discussed that path. I will not invade his home while he performs my own tasks. This forest,” she gestured with her hands, “will not rest while he is gone either. It is not a safe place.”

He nodded again. “Well it has served its purpose for us today. Come, my Lady. Let us return to Tatigin.” He moved his horse forward to take the lead. The men in her personal guard moved in perfect formation to prepare and follow them.

Kiarsi turned to the forest again. She kissed her fingertip and touched it to her forehead, a personal blessing for both the forest and the lonely Zeegrak within it. “With all hope, old friend, I hope this let’s you remember who you truly are.” Then she turned and followed the captain.

Tags: Fantasy, podcast, The Conflicted Zeegrak, Tuesday Night Stories, Writings

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