Chapter 1
Quest Seekers
Five Years Ago
“Are you okay? Can I help you?”
“Youth.” The hunched figure lunged forward. Queen Rena’s scrams pierced the night.
Five years later
There were four kingdoms in the country of Ishmar: Lindor in the east, Salnon in the north, Taneer in the south and the heavily taxed kingdom of Dilroc in the west. People fell into one of two categories: the crumbs or the upper crusts. The crumbs were the working class folks such as blacksmiths, tailors, shoemakers, woodcutters, etc. Mostly people who had just enough for a hot meal and a roof over their heads. The upper crusts were mostly those born into royalty or anyone lucky enough to work within the royal courts. The Lindor kingdom was populated with several villages scattered throughout the land. One of those villages was called Pleasant Hills. In that village, a farm girl rationed out chicken feed to several hens. “Don’t be greedy,” she scolded a plump brown and white hen. She sat on the rickety fence and wiped her brow with a dusty hand. She watched the hens peck away at the ground. The farm girl was named Xanith Tinsdale. She lived with her adoptive parents, Alma and Winston; they found her abandoned in the woods seventeen summers ago. A merry whistle diverted her attention from the hens. Coming down the dirt pathway was Chartreuse, Xanith”s best friend since the time they learned how to talk.
Chartreuse was as different from Xanith as the sea was from the sky. She was the daughter of a whitesmith (her father was the only one who polished metal weapons in all the villagers in the east). This paid handsomely so Chartreuse often wore clothes that made her appear to be a member of the middle crust (a disappearing class). Today was no exception as she floated down the pathway in a pea green ankle length brocaded dress, complete with a cinched waistline. Loose raven curls framed her ebony cheeks and fell around her shoulders. She was no doubt one of the most resplendent maidens in the village. Xanith on the other side was mostly plain. Often her butterscotch face was powdered with dirt, her hair often plaited and pinned into a bun. She was dressed in an oversized brown tunic, cowhide belt and tan leggings.
“Xan, they found another one.” Chartreuse thrust the Eastern Gazette at Xanith’s chest.
Xanith read the bold face headline: servant girl found outside the palace grounds.“She was nothing but skin and bones and aged like a hundred times over.” Chartreuse’s eyes were wide as any sea.
Xanith shuddered. “That’s terrible. That’s like the tenth one or so,” she said dusting off her leggings. “They need to catch that mad man.”
“I’m terribly frightened.” Chartreuse ran her fingers through her hair.
“Have no fear, Wilhelm the brave is here.”
The girls spun around to see their friend, Wilhelm, the baker’s son bounding toward them. He was easy to spot in a crowd with sun bright skin and a tuft of sandy brown hair. A lopsided grin decorated his face. “I know what we’re going to do today,” he said merrily.
Xanith traded sidelong glances with Chartreuse. “What do you have in mind?” they asked in unison.
“Going on a quest,” he said, his grin growing wider.
Chartreuse groaned.
“We have mini-quest all over this village.” Xanith made a sweeping motion with her hand toward the expanse of the farm. “There’s nothing interesting around Pleasant Hills.”
“That’s because we need to go on a maxi-quest. Somewhere beyond this village, he said.
“Maxi-quest. Is that even a real phrase.” Chartreuse pondered aloud.
“Where?” Xanith tapped her fingers against her hips.
“To find the onyx sword.”
Xanith traded glances with Chartreuse again. “Never heard of it.”
“Rumor has it that nobody has ever been able to hold onto the sword for very long.” he said his voice layered in a whisper.
“Why?” Chartreuse inquired.
“I don‘t know.” Wilhelm shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps the right person hasn’t claimed it, like me.
“You can buy a sword,” Xanith said.
Wilhelm scoffed. “I’m so broke I can’t even pay attention.”
“Did you know they found another girl, aged and dead,” Chartreuse said in a quiet voice.
“So, that’s an upper crust problem,” Wilhelm said.
“The victims are usually servant girls,” Chartreuse retorted.
Wilhelm softened a bit. “Well when I get my sword I’ll slay the killer,” he said feigning a sword fight.
Xanith shook her head. “Just yesterday you wanted to get a glimpse of the mysterious Porcelain woman.”
“I still do. We have to travel through the Hillshire forest on our way to finding the sword. We can hit two birds with one stone.”
“I hear she shuns the sun,” Chartreuse added. “And she’s misanthropic too.”
Wilhelm scrunched up his face.
“She hates people,” Xanith explained.
“We should head to the town square and try to win some funds for our quest,” he said.
The girls rolled their eyes.
The town square was located in the center of Pleasant Hills. All forms of commerce and entertainment happened in the square. Everywhere someone was selling something. “Get your alligator on a stick. Taste like chicken,” a robust man yelled through the throng of people.
“Funny, how everything tastes like chicken,” Xanith said as she made her way pass the alligator seller.
“Would you like a satin shawl?” a hump back woman asked the girls.
“They are very pretty.” Chartreuse reached out a hand to touch the fabric.
“No, thanks,’ Xanith said.
“These shawls come from India,” she said, holding them toward their faces.
“Sorry honey, we’re here to make some money not spend it,” Wilhelm said to the woman.
“I’ll be back.” Chartreuse mouthed to the woman before walking away.
While the girls lagged behind, Wilhelm searched for a way to make some money.
“What are you looking for?” Xanith asked as she finally caught up to him.
“I haven’t found it yet,” he replied.
“Your stride is too long,” Chartreuse said breathlessly.
“Your legs are just too short.” Wilhelm scanned the various contest booths.
“Arm wrestled a troll. Beat him, win five torkets.” A man dressed in striped overalls shouted to a crowd of on-lookers. Wilhelm stopped for a moment. The girls followed suit. “He’s not a real troll ya’ know, just a hairy little man.” Wilhelm walked on.
“Knock the giant into the pool, win ten torkets, announced a man with a polka dot hat.
Wilhelm rubbed his hands together. Now we are talking. He walked up to the booth attendant. “I’m here to topple the giant,” he said with a supercilious air.
“Good luck.” The man handed him a rock. Before Wilhelm could say anything else, the Earth beneath his feet began to rumble. The crowd cleared a path for the giant.
“Who’s next?” a gravel voice asked.
Wilhelm swallowed hard and took a reluctant step forward. “Of mice and men, I’m the latter,” he said aloud.
The giant peered down at him, her ruby lips curled into a menacing leer.
“Oh, you’re a girl,” he said, just above a whisper.
The giantess folded her arms across her mountain of a chest. She stood in front of a makeshift pool. Wilhelm’s eyes became transfixed on the translucent water. It wasn’t until the audience began chanting. “Throw the rock. Throw the rock”, that he turned his focus back to the giantess. The rock was jagged and rough in his hand. In the crowd, he sought out the faces of his best friends, Chartreuse (who was rooting for him) and Xanith (whose forehead wrinkled with worry). “I can do this,’ he said. He closed his eyes; an image of Chartreuse flitted across his mind. He smiled and threw the rock.
A thunderous roar silenced the chanting crowd. “You…broke…my…nail.”
Wilhelm opened his eyes. The giantess was glowering at him. “I’m going to stomp you like a bug,” she said wit ha feral look in her eyes.
“Would it help if I say I’m sorry?” He backed up.
Chartreuse hid her head in her hands. “Goodbye Wilhelm.”
Xanith scanned the crowd of retreating spectators. She saw a woman wearing a purple wide brim hat with a feather sticking out of it. “Bingo.’ She ran toward the woman and grabbed the feather. “Wilhelm.”
Wilhelm stood like a statue beneath the giantess’ raised foot.
“Move.” Xanith urged him. She pushed him aside. She grabbed onto the giantess’ ankles (which happen to be thicker than a tree trunk).
“Get off me you vermin,” she spat. The giantess shook her mighty leg. This created a strong breeze, which cause an old lady to lose her wig.
Xanith took the feather and started tickling her toes. The giantess roared with laughter, her deep bellows echoed throughout the town square. The giantess began to sway. Xanith grabbed Wilhelm’s hand as the giantess toppled backwards into the pool.
The returning crowd cheered as Xanith collected her ten torkets. She smiled but only briefly, as she saw Wilhelm stalked off. “Wilhelm.”
He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and kept walking.
“Wilhelm, come back.”
“Let him cool off.” Chartreuse took a hold of Xanith’s arm.
Xanith looked down at the bag of coins and then again at Wilhelm, who became lost in the crowd
“I guess this means the quest is off?” Xanith asked Chartreuse as they strolled through the town square.
“He can never stay mad at us,” Chartreuse said in between bites of her apple. “Besides if it weren’t for you, he’d be one with the ground.”
**************************************
“It’s happening again.” King Aquarius slammed the Eastern Gazette onto the table.“What?” Queen Thessily was busy scrutinizing her reflection in the soupspoon. Fainted creases formed around her mouth. She frowned.
“They found another girl,” he said. “Shriveled and lifeless.”
The queen made no reply. She continued to gaze at her reflection.
“This is a grave matter.” The king’s voice shook with thunder. “People are talking.”
“What are they saying, dear?”
“That someone in this kingdom is committing these gruesome killings.”
Queen Thessily sighed. “It’s probably just crumb on crumb crime. They’re poor. They’re bored. They kill each other.”
King Aquarius furrowed his peppered brow. “My dear Rena was the first to die that way.” A solitary tear trickled down the bridge of his nose as his thoughts drifted toward his late wife, Queen Rena. She was the mother of Prince Emmon and Princess Trulie and one night as the moon waned over the kingdom, she was in the garden, shriveled and lifeless. “My love,” King Aquarius muttered.
Queen Thessily looked up from her spoon. Before she could speak, a scream split through the castle. “Aaaaaaaaaugh.”
Prince Emmon was padding down the portrait-lined corridor when his sister’s shrill voice punctuated his quietude. “Might as well see what all the fuss is about,” he said turning on his heel.
Princess Trulie pointed her finger in the woman’s face. “I want a lilac silk dress for my birthday ball. “Not a lavender dress that’s satin” The seamstress cowered before the pint-size preteen.
“Um, what’s the diff?” Prince Emmon said but soon wished he hadn’t. His sister whirled around with fire blazing in her eyes.
“There…is…a…difference.”
“Move child.” Queen Thessily rushed into the room.
Prince Emmon shoved his hands deep into his pockets and walked away. He briefly exchanged glances with his father as they passed each other in the corridor. “I’m going for a ride,” Prince Emmon said.
****************************************************
Wilhelm strode through the town square; right pass Winnie Peg’s orchard and the Buns in the Oven bakery, where he helped his mother create the best cheesy pinwheels. He ignored the husky voice shouting his name.Thwack! Something knotty and hard hit him on the back of the head. He stopped and turned around. Xanith and Chartreuse were a few feet away. He marched over to them.
“Chartreuse, tell her to not throw apples at people.” Wilhelm clenched his fist as he spoke.
Chartreuse turned to Xanith. “He said don’t throw apples at him.”
“So we’re not speaking.” Xanith placed her hands on her narrow hips.
“Tell her no.”
“He said no.”
“This is ridiculous. Here take the money.” She held the bag out.
Wilhelm rolled his eyes. “It’s ill-gotten.”
“I’ll take it. I can buy pretty trinkets.” Chartreuse reached for the bag.
“I think not.” Wilhelm snatched the bag, hooking it onto his belt loop.
An old man crossed their path. He looked at them with his right eye, which was slightly larger than his left. “Don’t go into the forest,” he warned.
“Why not, old timer?” Wilhelm asked.
“The way is shot,” he said.
“The way is shot?” Chartreuse was perplexed.
“What does that mean?” Xanith asked.
“The way is shot.” The old man repeated once more before dissolving into the crowd.
“Weirdo.” Wilhelm shook his head.
“Maybe we shouldn’t go through the forest,” Chartreuse said with a tremble.
Wilhelm ignored her. He unfurled a ragged map. “According to this we have to travel on the Old Road,” he said pointing to a crude stain in the middle of the map.
Nobody travels on the Old Road,” Xanith said.
“Well I am” Wilhelm put the map under his shirt. “You two chickens can stay behind if you like.” Wilhelm briskly walked away.
Xanith exchanged sidelong glances with Chartreuse. “We better make sure he stays out of trouble,” she said.
Chartreuse nodded in agreement.
*******************************************************
Time had escaped Prince Emmon as he rode his blonde mare, Cera down a craggy road with grass burgeoning from the cracks. The sky grew pinkish-orange as the sun slid between the clouds. Prince Emmon looked to his left; there was a green mass of trees. Looking at them, he felt a shiver run the length of his spine. “I think we should be heading back old girl.” He started to turn around when three figures appeared in the distance. “Maybe we should see who they are?”The three strangers came into view; a resplendent young woman accompanied by two ragamuffins. Prince Emmon dismounted his horse. “Good evening, my lady.” He bowed before Chartreuse.
She giggled. “Evening.” She giggled again.
Xanith rolled her eyes.
“She’s no lady.” Wilhelm stepped in front of her, his hands balled into a fist.
Prince Emmon stepped back. “My dear lady, where I come from our servants aren’t so free with their tongues,” he said making eye contact with Chartreuse.
“Servants? What the hell…?” Wilhelm gritted his teeth and his freckles seem to turn a deep carnelian.
Xanith grabbed him by the elbow. “We aren’t servants. We’re from the village of Pleasant Hills,” she said.
“My apologies. I am Prince Emmon of the Lindor Kingdom.”
“Chartreuse,” she said making a clumsy attempt at a curtsey. “These are my friends Xanith and Wil…”
“Laertes.” Wilhelm cut her off.
“Wilhelm.” Xanith shot him a dirty look. “Don’t be rude.”
“Hey, I don’t give my real name out all willy-nilly,” he said.
“We’re going on a quest. Would you like to come?” Chartreuse asked.
Prince Emmon regarded the three villagers for a moment. The boy didn’t seem too friendly but the girls seem ok. He could finally have some friends. “I would love that,” he replied with a dimpled smile.
Chartreuse’s heart fluttered.
Wilhelm’s jaw clenched.
“We’re ’bout to trek through the forest,” Xanith said.
Prince Emmon glanced once more at the forest. “Oh.”
“Scared.” Wilhelm smirked.
“No, come one Cera.” He pulled on the mare’s reigns. She whinnied and kept her hooves planted firmly on the ground. “Come on. There’s nothing to be afraid of, Cera.” He stroked her mane.
“Let’s leave princey with his chicken horse.” Wilhelm laughed.
Xanith nudged him in the ribs.
“Ouch.”
After much coaxing, Cera only entered the fringe of the forest. “I’ll be back.” Prince Emmon patted her forehead before the forest swallowed him up.
