Beginning with the day of their initial conversation Iskald and Laela took an immediate liking for each other, one that was amplified even more during their subsequent meetings. Neither, however, was willing to admit this, and neither was aware of the other’s feelings.

Both were embarrassed and hesitant as to whether or not they should further explore the exciting sensation they felt when around one another. Iskald felt it would be absurd for him to even try to pursue the Princess because he was in no social position to do so. He was, after all, nothing but a former slave with no name, heritage, fortune or future. Laela would never allow him to touch her or discover her in the manner he dreamt of when alone in his apartments.

What Iskald did not realize was that Laela in fact wanted nothing more but to feel his hands all over her skin, running over her body, exploring and caressing her. She made no further attempts, however, to express her feelings because she was unsure of Iskald’s feelings towards her.

Moreover, she thought others would believe it inappropriate for someone of her status. She was a Princess after all and Iskald was clearly not the a match that the Court had envisioned for her. Her father would never approve if he discovered any affair of this sort.

He would do much worse than simply disapprove, Laela thought, and he possessed many means enabling him to express dismay. They ranged from, at best, having the power to expel Iskald from the borders of Nekrya under heavy escort; to having him thrown into the darkest dungeon of the Kingdom or even to having him hanged.

No, she shook her head as she paced her chambers in a translucent night-gown that did anything but cover her luscious body. She must abandon these new and stirring feelings that overwhelmed her ever since the Northern stranger stepped into her life. Still, she stopped... It was exciting to think what it would be like if Iskald entered her room and saw her as she was now, wearing almost nothing; if he saw her firm breasts and nipples erect beneath the see-through cloth; if he touched her as she was now, ready to receive him. Laela closed her eyes and slid her hands over her breasts... No, it must stop!

With great discipline, she denied herself these feelings that came back wave after wave every time she saw Iskald. Her manner towards him did not change at all and she was as friendly and compassionate as ever.

Extremely helpful in aiding the young man adjust to his new life, Laela exuded so much joy and love for the world that Iskald was convinced now more than ever before that she was an angel indeed. She was so good, kind and caring that the young man did not know what he would do without her.

More and more he became attached to the Princess and he soon found it hard to believe that there was a time when he did not know Laela, when she was not part of his life; that there was a time when his days were not filled with her cheerful laughter.

The medic summoned again by Laela announced that Iskald’s body needed much time to recover from the excruciating and painful experiences it was subjected to over the past two years. The final verdict was at least a month or two in bed and then a few more during which strenuous physical therapy was to be applied. He was going to recover almost completely, the medic said, but it would take time.

Iskald was not at all pleased to hear this, but said nothing. He was still weak, he felt it; and he understood very well that after everything he had been through, he needed some time to pull himself together and to mend his wounds. Still though, his spirit was as eager as ever to experience the new world he found himself suddenly thrown into. It was raring to go, ready to plunge into the novel surroundings, to meet new people, to admire the wonders of the beautiful world that was denied him for so long. His spirit was ready to experience life all over again.

But Iskald was forced to put all this away and to be content for the time being with that which was immediately available. The limited sounds coming from the open windows, the bits of navy blue sky he could see from his bed, and the stories that Laela was happy to share with him, they all helped to soothe his impatient soul. He asked to have his bed moved so that he could spend time by the window, listening to the sounds of the world and breathing the beautiful fresh air, breath after refreshing breath.

During this time the young man also met the King of Nekrya, Diovinius, who came to Iskald’s chambers himself despite a multitude of responsibilities that continuously occupied his valuable time. Laela had asked him to and he could not refuse her.

He spent quite some time that day with young Iskald, who struck him as particularly intelligent, something the King did not expect from a former slave. The aging Monarch quickly recognized and appreciated Iskald’s keen mind and sense of humor and thought that there must have been more to this young man than he was willing to reveal.

Before leaving Iskald’s chambers to return to the responsibilities awaiting him, the King promised himself to keep an eye on this promising youth. Laela was clearly amazed by how easily Iskald impressed her father and told him as much when the aging King left. The young Northerner only smiled and said that he had met a King or two in his days, something that Laela dismissed as a joke.

Growing up in Vahan’s Court, Iskald had encountered several Monarchs when they visited Lyons and he quickly learned to behave properly around them. By the age of ten he was already astonishing the Lords, Princes, and Kings with his wit and intellect, so it was little surprise that Diovinius was impressed as well.

The King of Nekrya made an impression on the young man just the same. He held a cheerful approach to life and had an easy-going attitude. All of this, combined with his great wisdom and acute intellect, helped him gain the respect and love of his subjects. He was a good and just ruler who spared nothing to improve the lives of all Nekryans.

Diovinius was also an unparalleled military leader, one who had no equal on the Southern side of the Azmattic Ocean. An ingenious strategist and resourceful leader, the Nekryan Lion had made a great and lasting impact on the post-Azmattic World in the previous four decades.

It was mainly his doing that forced the slave-trade to be abolished and it was chiefly thanks to his armies and troops that Tha-kians lived in relative peace with their neighbors. Had it not been for Nekrya, the numerous, relentless, and undisciplined Tha-kian hordes would have spilled over their borders and flooded the entire South, including even the nations they were supposedly at peace with.

Diovinius was the chief advocate of peace among the fighting nations. Despite his power and the ease with which he could conquer half of the civilized world, he remained within his own borders and never invaded another Realm. He only resolved to use his well-trained troops where diplomacy failed or if treaties were broken and his borders were attacked. Only then the sleeping Nekryan Lion woke, stretched its massive body and reached in the direction of its enemies with a menacing growl. Horrified by its strength and power, they always fled.

It was during this time that Iskald contemplated whether or not he should admit his true heritage and essentially expose himself as Nekrya’s enemy. He fought the urge to tell the truth because he realized that despite the warm welcome he had received from Laela and Diovinius, their reactions would be mixed at best if he had revealed his true identity.

Iskald felt no animosity towards the Nekryans; any feeling of this sort which might have been rooted in him by Vahan, was by now erased and rendered meaningless by his own experiences. The young Duke hated slave-traders and anyone opposing the vile industry was someone he would admire and respect.

The true Nekryan spirit was in his mind embodied by Diovinius and Laela, who stood opposite such vermin as Isla, Cisil, and other Nekryan keepers in the mines. It was Laela, really, who was responsible for generating Iskald’s warmest feelings towards Nekrya. After all, she did save his life, after all she was incredibly beautiful, and after all, his heart beat much faster every time she came to visit him in his chambers.

More importantly, though, the young Duke spent many nights contemplating the possibility of his return home. Regardless of anything that had happened over the last two years, assuming the throne and replacing Vahan as the rightful leader of the Order of the Northern Wolves and as the Lord of Lyons was his birthright.

But there were questions in Iskald’s mind. It was two years since Vahan’s death and his own disappearance and many things might have changed in the Estate as a result, things of which he had no means of learning until now. Iskald soon started to cautiously question Laela about the past and the current events taking place in the world, focusing especially on the Northern region of the post-Azmattic world.

Laela showed no surprise at his interest; she realized that he was away from his native Biyack, she thought, for quite some time so it was only natural that Iskald wished to learn about what happened there during his absence. As far as the Estate of Lyons, she was not surprised at his questions either because after all, the Estate was still a part of Biyack, and who knows? Maybe he had relatives living there?

As a daughter of a powerful King, Laela was prepared from an early age to rule the Kingdom in the event of his untimely death and possessed great knowledge of history as well as the political structures and current social events. Noting Iskald’s keen interest, Laela started telling her story from the approximate time Iskald was abducted. The coincidence between the time period when this happened and the murder of Vahan of Lyons and the disappearance of his son, whose name she could not remember, she dismissed as trivial. Iskald breathed a small sigh of relief.

Laela spoke of the events that took place after the savage and devastating attack, events that sent shockwaves throughout the Estate of Lyons and Biyack as well. Dreadful things happened after Vahan and his son were killed, she said. A man of notorious temper and questionable past, one named Aezubah, vowed to avenge their deaths and had assumed sole power over the Northern Wolves.

Many stories were told of this man’s past exploits as a legendary General and many legends grew around this shady figure. Many of those stories were fantastic. The one she recounted now was real, though, and evidenced by a trail of blood and death that Aezubah had left in his path, Laela said. His vengeance-fueled hatred had led him straight into the Tha-kian Kingdom, into their Capital Dilli, where he had unleashed his blood-starved Wolves into the unsuspecting city. It was judgment day, she said, with a certain amount of satisfaction. Nearly everyone in Dilli was butchered and burnt and the Tha-kians to this day had not fully recovered from the carnage.

Iskald smiled softly upon hearing this. Aezubah had come through after all. His heart trembled at the sound of that dear name and the young man had to use all the power of his will to keep from jumping up in the bed.

Laela continued her story, saying that what had transpired in the small Estate had real effects elsewhere in the world as well. Biyack was affected especially, she said. The Duke of Lyons had been a thorn in his eye for a long time now and with his disappearance, the road to total dominion over Lyons lay clearly before the ancient Northern Kingdom.

Biyack was always afraid of the ever-growing strength and power of Vahan and had for a long time feared that the Estate would eventually revolt and break from its patronage. This would be devastating to Biyack since the Estate, abundant in resources, was obliged to supply the ancient Kingdom with a large portion of raw materials, materials that had recently come to constitute the core of Biyack’s subsistence and economy.

With Vahan murdered, the threat of Lyons seceding was gone, Biyack thought, and quickly seized the chance to exercise his right to elect a new Duke in the Estate. His choice was his sister’s son, Vasil, who assumed the throne just days after Vahan’s death while Aezubah was still in pursuit of the Tha-kians.

The aging warrior returned soon after destroying Dilli and avenging the death of his friends, but only to find the Estate in turmoil. The people rose against Vasil and banned him from their borders. Aezubah wasted no time and organized a revolt that frighteningly quickly escalated into war. Unveiling his long-hidden identity as the legendary General, he ignited a fire that within days had engulfed the entire Lyonese territory and then spilled into the Southern lands of Biyack.

Aezubah and his army of Wolves stunned the Biyackian legions stationed in Lyons, massacred them and then, showing tremendous audacity, they invaded the ancient Kingdom itself. The General did not lead an army of peasants, but an army of highly trained, fearless and ruthless troops of the Order of the Northern Wolves, whose notoriety was exceeded only by that of the Vikings.

The rebels initially experienced a great deal of success, although somewhat due to the fact that King Biyack was still involved in peace talks with the Vikings in the North. Aezubah attacked ferociously, sending waves after waves of Wolves into the heart of the ancient Kingdom, sacked a few minor cities and town, and forced his way into the Biyackian mountains where he received even more troops from the highlanders, who revered him and treated him as one of their own.

Despite the initial surprise, however, Biyack quickly regained control of the situation. As soon as an understanding was reached with the Vikings, as fragile as it might have been, the King sent his troops South to quail the rebellion. Outnumbered and outmatched, Aezubah was eventually defeated and forced to retreat. The Wolves were dispersed and Vasil was once again placed on the throne of Lyons, which he rules now.

The aging General carried his head out of the war and escaped from beyond the reach of Biyack. No one had heard of him since, although rumors circulated that he had taken refuge among the Lyonese highlanders whose homesteads, the dreaded cholchoz, lay hidden amidst the snow-capped mountains and the misty fiords of the North, unreachable among the clouds.

The news shocked and disturbed the young Northerner. The throne of Lyons was in the hands of a Biyackian Duke! Iskald’s first urge was to jump out of bed and run, fly, soar, swim across the ocean, reach his beloved Motherland as soon as possible and reclaim it, save it from the hands of the wicked Biyackian Duke. But Laela sat next to him and he was forced to restrain himself from either doing or even saying anything that would betray his true state of mind.

The next few moments, during which Laela went on with her story, allowed Iskald to regain his composure and to think calmly once again. As quickly as the urge came to rise and run to save his people, it subsided and gave way to cold reason. It was an impossibility, it was a dream almost. Who would believe him that he was Iskald, son of Vahan, the true and rightful owner of the Lyonese throne? Who would lend him a hand? Where would he find support, warriors, friends?

Vasil would not give the throne without waging war. He had an entire Biyackian army behind him, whom did Iskald have? He did not even own a sword. Taking the throne back from Vasil would require a revolt, an army, hundreds of trusted men. People who would have believed him, people like Aezubah, Jasper and the rest of the Northern Wolves, they were all either dead or dispersed all over the world. He had nothing to go back to, Iskald realized. Not now, not ever.

To be continued...

Copyright © 2008 by Slawomir Rapala