Queen of Ashes by May Freighter

Author:May Freighter [Freighter, May]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0000000000000
Published: 2023-10-30T19:23:48+00:00

14

Words of a Mage

EMILIA

Emilia had much to think about. Malette and Bishop Lagarde had consummated a rather devious plan to dethrone her.

Want to drive me to madness with nightmares? You’ll pay for this!

She headed to the dungeon, which was near the tower she used to occupy.

Two knights on guard duty stood to attention when they saw her approaching and saluted her.

“Good evening, Your Majesty. How may we be of service?” a male knight on the left asked.

Emilia studied their features and complexions. They seemed to be native Dante folk and most likely worked for Count Baudelaire.

“I am here to see the mage. Let me through.”

The guard on the right picked up a lantern. “It gets dark and cold in the dungeon when the sun goes down. Shall I find a servant to fetch you a warm coat?”

“No need. I won’t be long.”

The guard with the lantern nodded, and the other unlocked the metal door for them.

The guard led Emilia down a flight of stairs cloaked in thick, murky darkness. The light of a single candle in its glass case was nowhere near what she needed to see ahead.

She nearly slipped on a step. Centuries of use had filed the stone down, leaving it with a polished surface.

Flickering torches came into view at the bottom of the stairs, along with an invasive stench of human waste and mould.

She covered her mouth and nose with a handkerchief.

Although she was aware that dungeons were not meant to be accommodating, she couldn’t take the chance of Duke Malette contracting an unknown illness before his trial. Changes had to be made to make the confinement more humane.

The emptiness of the cells began to feel oppressive as they walked farther in.

The guard stopped in front of metal bars and lit more torches around them before aiming the lantern inside the cell.

As darkness receded with the burning flames, Emilia noticed a skinny man kneeling on the stone ground. His gaunt face was marked with scars that went beyond his grey linen shirt. He had his hands and feet bound with shackles and an iron chain that connected to the stone wall.

“Is there a need to keep him restrained?” she asked.

“Lord Armel requested we do not untie him. According to him, this mage requires freedom of movement to weave nightmares. This should stop him.”

Clayton certainly learned from his mistakes. “I want to speak with him. Open the door.”

“Your Majesty, it is too dangerous. We are unaware of what he is capable of in his current state. Please, remain here.”

She stepped closer to the bars and spoke in an authoritative voice. “Dream weaver, why did you wish to harm me and my kingdom?”

The mage craned his head and awkwardly leapt towards her.

A rattle of chains resonated throughout the dungeon. The bindings held tight, keeping the mage a safe distance away from the bars.

His greasy hair dangled in front of his slanted eyes in clumps. The dryness of his skin made her think he had consumed no liquids in days, despite hiding in the pantry.

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