The Heir (2 page)

Baylin put his strong hands on Luana’s hips
as he leaned in, touching his lips to hers. She could feel his
bulge pressing hard against his trousers. She became breathless,
her stomach fluttered as she reached down and pulled at the laces
of his pants. Baylin needed little else to encourage him. He
stepped back and unlaced his trousers and let them fall to the
floor.

Baylin crawled back on top of Luana and took
her in his arms. She could feel his erect member against her
delicate flower. Just as Baylin began to press it against her,
someone knocked at the chamber door.

The couple broke their embrace, Luana
throwing her head back on the soft bed in frustration. “No doubt it
has something to do with war council.”

Baylin groaned, as irritated as Luana. He
clenched his jaw as he rose from the bed and pulled on his
trousers. “I’m sorry. You know the safety of the Kingdom has to be
my top priority. That does include your own safety, my dear.”

Baylin crossed the room to the door, shaking
his head as he went. He jerked the heavy wooden door open and found
the King’s steward on the other side. “Prince Baylin, the King
requested your presence at war council. He has new information to
discuss.”

“I will be there momentarily,” Baylin said
with a heavy sigh. He closed the door and pinched the bridge of his
nose.

Luana sighed, crossing her arms in front of
her chest. “Another night of planning, I see.”

“Luana, you know I must.” Baylin walked over
and sat next to her on the edge of the bed. “I am to be King one
day. I care for the welfare of my people. I do not relish being
pulled from your arms night after night.” Baylin brought Luana to
him, holding her close. “My only desire is to be with you, here and
now.”

Luana knew there was no point in arguing.
It’s not Baylin’s fault that the troll hordes have begun to
congregate in the west. He’s only trying to protect his
Kingdom.
Though she tried to believe it, the words did not
relieve the gnawing ache in her chest. She bit her lip to avoid
voicing her impatience.
He’s only trying to protect the
Kingdom.

“Could you at least… Can you get me
permission to leave this room?” she asked, staring down at the furs
on the bed. She knew it was forbidden, but she was so tired of
being locked away with nothing to do.

“You know I can’t, Luana,” the Prince said
with sadness in his eyes. “If it were in my power, you know I
would. But father has been very plain on this. You are not to leave
the room except when summoned.”

Luana felt disheartened by the words. She
may have had the love of a wonderful man, but she remained a
prisoner within the castle nonetheless.

Baylin tilted her chin so her eyes met his.
“When I am King, it will all be made right. You will see.” He
leaned in and kissed Luana’s lips tenderly. “I must go.”

The Prince walked from the room, leaving
Luana alone with her thoughts.

When he is King.
The idea gave her
hope, though there was still so much in those four words. He could
only become King by the death of his father, and she would not wish
the pain of that loss on Baylin, even if it meant she would remain
a prisoner the rest of her life.

Chapter Two

Baylin stalked down the long corridor to the
war room. He could not help but be angry for being pulled from
Luana’s arms to spend the evening with a bunch of old men.
I am
to be a father. I should be celebrating. Not planning more
strategies and warfare.

The long hallway was lined with blazing
torches, giving it a deceivingly warm look even during the harsh
winter nights. He knew these halls well, having walked them nearly
every night for the past two months since his father became sick.
I have spent more time with my father and his men than I have
with Luana.

He thought of the night his father fell
ill.

In the wee hours of the morning Baylin woke
with a jerk by a loud, urgent pounding on his chamber doors. Luana
stirred when he pulled himself from the bed, wrapping a fur around
him to keep the chill off. He walked across the dim room, the fire
in the hearth cast a soft glow on the room as it threatened to
extinguish.

Just as he reached the door, the pounding
came again. Baylin jerked the door open and found a young steward
with a panicked expression on his sweaty face. The boy was
breathless, as though he had run the whole way to the room.

“
Your Grace,” the steward said with a
bow. “Your presence is urgently needed. His Grace, the King, has
fallen ill.”

Panic pulsed through Baylin’s body as he
spun back into the room, grabbing his trousers and tunic. As he
dressed, he asked the waiting steward, “What is the matter? Has
Master Keon been to see him? Where is my mother?”

“
Master Keon attends him now,” the
steward replied. “The Queen requests you come at once. They fear
the worst, Your Grace. He has taken very ill with the cold. He
struggles to breathe.”

“
Pull all the maids and stewards,” Baylin
instructed. “Make sure Master Keon has as many hands as he needs to
ensure he can properly care for the King.”

The steward bowed and closed the door before
carrying out his instructions.

Luana sat up in bed at the sound of the
commotion in the room. With sleepy eyes she yawned and asked, “What
is it, my love?”

Baylin turned to Luana, her mess of long
silvery-blonde hair glittering in the dim light as it fell around
her face and shoulders. “It’s my father. He’s fallen ill.”

Luana wrapped herself in a blanket and ran
to his side. “Ill? How? What has happened?”

As Baylin relayed what the steward had told
him, fear flooded his mind. “What if Father dies? I’m not ready to
be King.”

Luana reached up and cupped his cheek,
discerning his worry and stress. “If only I could be there to help.
I’m so sorry.”

They were both silent for a moment as they
stared into each other’s eyes. She stroked his cheek with her thumb
and gave a soft smile. “Do not despair. Many have fallen ill in the
Kingdom, but none have succumbed. Your father is strong; he will be
okay.”

Baylin leaned down and kissed her. “I’m
sorry, but I must go. There may be little time left.”

As Baylin hurried from the room, Luana
called out to him. “Give him skullcap and passionflower.”

“
What?” he asked, turning to look at
her.

“
Instruct Master Keon to make him a tea
of skullcap and passionflower,” Luana explained. “It will help with
the breathing and any anxiety he might be experiencing. I know
Master Keon will most likely see it as a silly folk remedy compared
to what he has been taught, but he has been more receptive lately.
Trust me, it truly works.”

Baylin nodded. “Thank you, my love.”

The Prince rushed from the room, running
down the dim halls and up a long length of staircase, all the way
up to the royal medical chamber, which was kept separate for the
King and Queen. He pushed the door open and saw the large room was
filled with maids and stewards running around grabbing instruments
and blankets as Master Keon instructed them. Others were stirring
the fire, boiling water and doing whatever they were told to help
in assisting the old physician.

In the bed lay his father, grey in color as
he coughed and struggled to breath. Master Keon stood over him,
attempting to listen to the King’s chest with an instrument that
reached from the physician’s ear to his father’s chest.

Baylin’s mother, Queen Valasca, sat in a
large ornate chair next to the bed, holding his father’s hand. Her
face lined with worry as she looked up at her son. “Baylin, I’m so
glad you’ve come.”

Baylin hurried to the bed, kneeling down
next to his mother, putting his hand on his father’s shoulder as
the King endured another coughing fit that caused him to gasp for
breath.

“
When did this occur? He had a mere cough
this morning,” Baylin asked as he studied his father’s features.
The King looked as though he had aged thirty years in the matter of
a day.

“
It was so quick,” his mother said with
sadness thick in her voice. “He retired early for bed and then the
illness gripped him. His steward informed my maid that he was
having trouble breathing and seemed very warm to the touch. By the
time Master Keon was fetched, his skin was burning, and he acts as
though he is drowning with no water.”

Baylin placed a hand on his mother’s
shoulder to comfort her. He had never doubted his parents’ love for
one another. It was evident on his mother’s face that she feared
losing the man she loved.

The Prince looked to the old physician as he
rubbed a salve on the King’s chest. “What has been done? What can
be done, Master Keon?”

“
I’m afraid it is up to the gods now, my
Prince,” the old man said with a furrowed brow. “I have given him
everything that can be given. If only I could get his breathing
spasms under control, I believe he would recover.”

The Queen covered her mouth with her hand as
she attempted to stifle the sound of her weeping in reaction to the
old Master’s words. “My father is going to die? My father is going
to die!” Baylin let the emotion wash over him for a moment. “No!
This cannot happen. There must be something.”

The Prince thought of what Luana had told
him. “What of skullcap and passionflower? I have heard that, if
made into a strong tea, it can help assist with breathing
difficulties.”

Master Keon raised his bushy grey eyebrows.
“How have you heard of such things, if I may ask, my Prince?”

Baylin feared if the physician had knowledge
that the information came from Luana, he might be a bit resistant
to it. However, he had faith in her and hoped Keon would too. “It
was Luana. She insists it will help with his breathing.”

“
Ah, your young bed wife and her herbs.”
The old man looked apprehensive. He leaned back, stretching his
tired back, and placed his hands on his hips as he thought it over.
“Though, I suppose they couldn’t hurt. But this is the King’s life
we are speaking of.”

“
Please, Master Keon,” Queen Valasca
pleaded.

The physician’s expression softened. “Of
course, Your Grace. I’m not completely unreasonable. The young
woman does appear to have a gift.”

Baylin felt the tension ease from his body
as the maids set to work boiling water and gathering herbs for the
tea.

Once it was prepared, Master Keon
administered the tea and was able to use his other herbs and salves
to bring the King out of danger. However, King Ashmur had never
fully recovered, and Baylin had seen the days wear his father
thin.

Baylin’s thoughts of the King’s illness
diminished as he neared the war room. Even from down the hall he
could hear a loud clamor of voices attempting to speak over one
another. He arrived in the crowded room. The King had called every
general in the Kingdom.
The news must be urgent to have called
them all here.

As the Prince pushed his way through the
mass of bodies, he was greeted by his friend Ferric. “Your
Grace.”

“Ferric, my friend,” Baylin said, patting
the young man on the back. “What calls us from our beds this
night?”

“We have received troubling news.” King
Ashmur’s gravelly voice echoed from his high seat, causing the room
to go still.

Baylin was surprised to see his father. He
struggled daily to recover his strength and had been urged by
Master Keon to take bed rest to recuperate fully. King Ashmur
looked weary and much older than he should. The stress of illness
and impending war continued to take its toll.

“Father,” Baylin said, “what news do you
speak of?”

“Please, all of you sit,” the King
urged.

As the group of men bumped and tripped over
each other to find room to sit in the congested chamber, Baylin
made his way to the seat at his father’s right hand.

Once all were seated, the room went silent,
allowing for them to hear the King without the need to shout. “Men,
I have received a bird from King Gideon of Mirstone. The troll
hordes have breached the Kingdom’s boarders and are overrunning the
villages.”

The room erupted in gruff gasps and muffled
discussion.

Mirstone was one of the remaining five Keld
Kingdoms. It lay to the southwest of Grasmere. Though smallest of
all the Keld Kingdoms, Mirstone provided Grasmere with much-needed
fruit from their abundant orchards along with large, powerful
horses that could not be matched by any other in the world.
Grasmere’s alliance with Mirstone not only solidified the fate of
the people of both Kingdoms but also ensured the line of the royals
would endure.

Baylin turned in his chair to his father.
“How is this possible? What of the royal family?”

“The royal family is safe,” King Ashmur
reassured. “King Gideon managed to get Queen Fia and their
daughter, Princess Isla, out through a secret pass behind the
castle. They are being escorted to Grasmere on a ship up the
Crystal Waters. The journey will be longer by the water, but much
safer given the circumstance.”

Some of the men let out deep breaths and sat
back in their chairs in relief. However, many still sat ridged,
fidgety and restless. It was obvious everyone was troubled by the
situation.

“Your Grace,” an old man with a long grey
beard said as he stood up. “Mirstone is but two days’ ride from
here. Certainly we need to look to enforcing our own borders.”

“What of the people of Mirstone?” Baylin
interjected. “Surely King Gideon does not plan to leave them to the
mercy of the troll hordes.”

“No, my son,” the King coughed. “We will not
leave the people of Mirstone to suffer such a fate. But we must
first assess the situation. I have dispatched Lord Cadman with some
of his men to weigh the numbers within the Kingdom so that we may
quickly siege the troll army and lay waste to them.”