CHAPTER SIX

King Kaelric stepped into the castle’s foyer, done with his daily patrol around Arkenholt’s southern border. He rolled his shoulders and took off his armor, handing them over to his steward.

“Change the strap on the cuirass and pauldrons.” He instructed and the young steward nodded, gathering all the pieces of heavy armor and ambled to the laundry room.

“My king!” Nireya ran frantic towards Kaelric, almost stumbling at his feet before he caught her arm. He glared at her worrisome face as she spoke. “Elira…she’s been vomiting blood and she's burning from a fever.”

“Who’s Elira?” Kaelric tilted his head to the side.

“The girl, the girl upstairs.” Nireya clasped a hand to her forehead. “Oh come, come see for yourself,” she grabbed his arm and pulled him up the stairs.

Kaelric strode into the room, tailing behind Nireya and sighted Elira’s laying helpless on the floor. He rushed over to her and got on one knee, raising her by the shoulders.

Her eyes were closed and suken in its hollow, color drained from her face and blood stains on the corner of her lips. “We need to take her to the chief priestess.” Nireya said, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.

Kaelric carried Elira into his arms and walked down the stairs, making his way to the chief priestess quarters at the west wing of the castle.

“Chief priestess, I need your help.” He said, barging into the temple with Elira in his arms.

The chief priestess—embellished in an embroidered black garment, charms on her wrists and black ink painted under her eyelids—snapped her fingers and the other priestesses cleared the room, preparing an examining table for Elira.

Kaelric laid Elira on the table and the chief priestess hovered her palms around Elira. She snapped her fingers again and a priestess brought a bottle and placed it in her hand.

“For the fever,” she said to Kaelric and he nodded, watching the chief priestess pour drops of the unlabeled liquid into Elira’s mouth.

Violently turning to her side, Elira retched out more blood, her body trembling on the table. The chief priestess snapped both fingers twice and a few priestess scurried to mop the floor while another placed a handful of sage in her hand.

The chief priestess burnt sage on a candlelight, encircling its incense around Elira semi-unconscious state whilst muttering incantations.

“What's wrong with her?” Kaelric asked but the chief priestess ignored his question, continuing her chants of healing, sensing an abnormal spirit in the girl’s body which she needed to incarcerate.

The bell tolled in the tower, signaling the start of midday and Kaelric recalled he had a crucial meeting with Advisor Maevin and members of his court.

“Nireya, watch over her.” He said to the elderly lady and took his leave, walking towards the courtroom. He couldn't be bothered by the mere illness of a slave when his own people suffered from worse, their deaths exceeding hundreds.

Storming through the double doors, the members of his court bowed in unison as he joined them on the round table, taking a seat in the middle, next to Advisor Maevin.

Advisor Maevin handed to him a written agenda for the meeting which he quickly glanced at and approved with a curt nod. “We begin this meeting with directions on a new food and water source for Arkenholt.”

“I reckon the neighboring villages have been supplying Arkenholt since our famine and drought.” A member of the court spoke.

“They have grown skeptical on granting aids to our people. They believe doing trades with us will make their lands cursed as well.” Advisor Maevin explained.

“Skeptical, my foot.” Another member spat.

“They will pay with their heads when Lord Orc and his raiders come to evade their territory.” Another member swore, marking a cross on his right chest.

Kaelric exhaled, bringing the discussion back on the topic before his irritation awakened. “Our next suppliers will be one of these villages which bounds Arkenhholt by the south.” He said, indicating at the locations on the huge map placed at the center of the round table.

“It would take our soldiers a week on horseback, to ride across Arkenholt’s mountains, get the supplies and come back.” Advisor Maevin mused in thought, rubbing a finger over his hairless chin.

“Moreover—” a court member pointed to an area on the map crossed with red. “—it tracks alongside enemy boundary, The Gryphons.”

A few murmurings was passed on between court members who knew it was better to sieve their next words than propose a futile suggestion to the king.

How the mighty have fallen, Kaelric reflected on Arkenholt prosperous past, glancing at the portrait of past kings hung around the courtroom. The double doors flew open and the chief priestess barged in.

By traditional decree, the chief priestess was a member of the council, but the council men of Arkenholt would rather piss in a cup and drink than allow a woman sit in their midst as they delegated the kingdom’s affairs.

“My king,” she bowed then lifted her head. “The slave girl, you brought under my care is pregnant.” She blurted to the entire court.

“A pregnant slave—how repulsive.” A court member repealed the abomination.

“Was she sold by the goblin? I didn't know that dirty creature slept with his merchandise.” Another spoke, shaking his head in disgrace.

“She was probably pregnant with another man’s child before being sold to the goblin.” They considered endless possibilities between themselves to the hearing of King Kaelric.

“Now her child will become a slave and a bastard.”

Kaelric’s mind propelled to the drunken night he spent with Elira. The details of the memory were still hazy to him as he passed out soon after, only waking up to see her body next to him and the smell of sex clinging unto his sweat.

Holding a hand to his temple, he shut his eyes momentarily and tried to make sense of the matter. He was intoxicated and got caught up in an abominable mistake, but he wouldn't be so unwise not to pull out.

Moreover, it was a month ago. She should've died before now, like other maidens if the child was his.

Kaelric exhaled and everyone quieted. “Chief priestess.” He called, glaring into the distance.

“Yes, my king.” She presented herself next to him.

“Perform a blood bond on me and child of the slave.” He said and the entire courtroom exclaimed at his words.

Advisor Maevin bent his head in shame, trying to conceal his unrestrained countenance of disgrace with a straightened stare. Quickly, he waved over a guard who stood against the wall, leaning in to speak into his ears.

“Prepare a grave for the slave girl and her child.” He instructed and the guard left at once.

No ritual preparation or blood divination! Advisor Maevin suppressed the seething anger within his crimson heart.

However, it didn't matter, cause if indeed she carried the seed of the dragonblood, Elira was as good as dead.