Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Queen Solna stared in the looking glass at her own reflection. She wanted to cry, but dare not in case she could not stop. She had to tell Mikol, she knew, but she did not want to keep him from saving the steward.

“Twenty is too young to take the throne,” she whispered to herself. She could not stop looking in her own eyes. They were bloodshot. Only a few minutes before, she had broken out in a fever. “Jot, help us!” she plead.

Solna decided to go straight to her husband. His fever had broken at last, but had lost control of his bowels shortly thereafter. It was difficult for her to see him so broken and helpless. She was glad Mikol was not here to see it.

A few minutes later, she was standing alone beside the king's bed, looking into the glass box. His face was ashen and colorless. His breathing was coming in heavy gasps as he slept.

“My sweet Leijon,” she whispered. She finally let the tears release and broke down, falling to her knees. The wept for her husband, herself, and her nation that was now suffering from Verastava. News had reached her only an hour before that other cities and villages were reporting instances of the plague. It seemed the Chaelestans had made sure to infect as many people and places as they could.

“Jot,” she prayed aloud, “where are you? Why is this happening to our people? Can you not heal my husband?”

“Solna,” came Leijon's voice through a nearby communicator. It was weak and raspy. “My love, do not cry.”

“Leijon,” she said, wiping her eyes and looking up. The grabbed the communicator. “I have been infected, love. I will soon join you in this cage.”

“Solna,” he said, looking at her with compassion and empathy. “All will be well. Our son lives, and he will reign well.”

“Our people. Our people are dying from this plague,” she sobbed.

Leijon sighed. “I know. Perhaps this is punishment.”

“For what? What could cause Tuho to punish our nation? What have we done to anger Him?”

“You know how few of the rising generation actually believe in Jot, Loda, or Tuho.” Leijon broke into a coughing fit for a few seconds. The healers had stopped trying to calm such fits. It calmed and he continued. “The youth walk with high heads and speak with closed lips. They refuse the beliefs of their parents.”

“I know, but is this reason enough to send something so horrible to us?” Solna asked desperately. “Surely they could forgive the insolence of youth.”

Liejon shook his head slowly. “You know as well as I the abominable things this generation does. Many have even decided to pervert their lifeforce magic and raise dead creatures as pets. Others use their magic for other horrible things.” He coughed again. “One young liquid mage was brought to my attention. He was caught controlling a woman by her blood, forcing her to be his slave.”

“Such immoral acts,” Solna said in despair. “And we have done nothing to stop it!”

“What could we do?” Leijon asked.

“I. . . I do not know.”

“They are able to choose. Now they are facing a consequence for their choices. It just so happens that the innocent are caught in the punishment.” Leijon closed his eyes and caught his breath.

A healer came through the door.

“Your majesty,” she said, bowing to Solna. “It has been brought to our attention that you also have been infected.”

“Yes.”

“Then I am sorry, but we must continue to follow protocol. You must be quarantined.”

Solna nodded. “Yes, though I am afraid it will not do much good. But I request that I be quarantined here in this room, with my husband.”

“As you wish, your majesty. We will prepare another glass quarantine for you.” The healer left. Solna turned back to Leijon.

“Love, it seems you won't have to wait long before I join you in Jot's realm.”

“Perhaps they will find a cure before you do,” Leijon said, smiling. Even so ill, she loved his smile.

While the box was being erected, she went into a special chamber down the hall. Inside were shrines to Jot and Loda. She spent the evening in the shrine, praying for a miracle or healing. As the evening wore on, she started praying that the pain would at least be lessened for those infected, even if they could not be cured. She also prayed for Mikol, asking for Jot's protection on him. She stopped praying when she heard the palace bell toll nine o'clock.

She did not know that, at that same moment, her son had engaged in combat.