A Fate of Dragons

Gareth spun, shocked that anyone was with him in this chamber. He recognized the voice instantly; it was a voice he had become too familiar with over the years, and one he had come to despise. It was the voice of his wife.

Helena.

There she stood, in a far corner of the room, observing him as she smoked her opium pipe. She inhaled deeply, held it, then slowly let it out. Her eyes were bloodshot, and he could see that she had been smoking too long.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“This is my bridal chamber after all,” she responded. “I can do anything I want here. I’m your wife and your queen. Don’t forget. I rule this kingdom as much as you do. And after your debacle today, I would use the term rule very loosely indeed.”

Gareth’s face burned red. Helena had always had a way of striking him with the lowest blow of all, and at the most inopportune time. He despised her more than any woman in his life. He could hardly conceive that he had agreed to marry her.

“Do you?” Gareth spat, turning and marching towards her, seething. “You forget that I am King, you wench, and I could have you imprisoned, just like anyone else in my kingdom, whether you are my wife or not.”

She laughed at him, a derisive snort.

“And then what?” she snapped. “Have your new subjects wonder of your sexuality? No, I doubt that very much. Not in the scheming world of Gareth. Not in the mind of the man who cares more than anyone else how people perceive him.”

Gareth stopped before her, realizing she had a way of seeing through him which annoyed him to the core. He understood her threat and realized that arguing with her would do no good. So he just stood there, quietly, waiting, his fists bunched.

“What is it that you want?” he said slowly, trying to control himself from doing something rash. “You don’t come to me unless you want something.”

She laughed a dry, mocking laugh.

“I’ll take whatever it is that I want. I haven’t come to ask you for anything. But rather to tell you something: your entire kingdom has just witnessed your failure to hoist the sword. Where does that leave us?”

“What you mean us?” he asked, wondering where she was going with this.

“Your people know now what I have always known: that you are failure. That you are not the Chosen One. Congratulations. At least now it is official.”

He scowled back.

“My father failed to wield the sword. That did not prevent him from ruling effectively as King.”

“But it affected his kingship,” she snapped. “Every moment of it.”

“If you’re so unhappy with my inabilities,” Gareth fumed, “why don’t you just leave this place? Leave me! Leave our mockery of a marriage. I am King now. I don’t need you anymore.”

“I’m glad you raised that point,” she said, “because that is precisely the reason I’ve come. I want you to end our marriage officially. I want a divorce. There is a man I love. A real man. One of your knights, in fact. He’s a warrior. We are in love, a true love. Unlike any love I ever had. Divorce me, so I can stop carrying on this affair in secret. I want our love to be public. And I want to be married to him.”

Gareth stared back at her, shocked, feeling hollowed out, as if a dagger had just been plunged into his chest. Why had Helena had to surface? Why now, of all times? It was too much for him. He felt as if the world were kicking him while he was down.

Despite himself, Gareth was surprised to realize that he had some deep feelings for Helena, because when he heard her actual words, asking for a divorce, it did something to him. It upset him. Despite himself, it made him realize he did not want a divorce from her. If it came from him, it was one thing; but if it came from her, it was another. He did not want her to have her way, and not so easily.

Most of all, he wondered how a divorce would influence his kingship. A divorced King would raise too many questions. And despite himself, he found himself jealous of this knight. And resentful of her rubbing his lack of manhood in his face. He wanted vengeance. On both of them.

“You can’t have it,” he snapped. “You are bound to me. Stuck as my wife forever. I will never let you free. And if I ever encounter this knight you are cheating with, I will have him tortured and executed.”

Helena snarled back at him.

“I am not your wife! You are not my husband. You are not a man. Ours is an unholy union. It has been from the day it was forged. It was an arranged partnership for power. The whole thing disgusts me – it always has. And it has ruined my one chance to truly be married.”

She breathed, her fury rising.

“You will give me my divorce, or I will reveal to the entire kingdom the man you are. You decide.”

With that Helena turned her back on him, marched across the room and out the open door, not even bothering to close it behind her.

Gareth stood alone in the stone chamber, listening to the echo of her footsteps and feeling a chill pervade his body that he could not shake. Was there anything stable he could hold onto anymore?

As Gareth stood there, trembling, watching the open door, he was surprised to see somebody else walk through it. He had barely had time to register his conversation with Helena, to process all of her threats, when in walked a too-familiar face. Firth. The usual bounce to his step was gone as he entered the room tentatively, a guilty look on his face.

“Gareth?” he asked, sounding unsure.

Firth stared at him, wide-eyed, and Gareth could see how bad he felt. He should feel bad, Gareth thought. After all, it was Firth who put him up to wielding the sword, who had finally convinced him, who had made him think that he was more than he was. Without Firth’s whispering, who knew? Maybe Gareth would have never even attempted to wield it.

Gareth turned to him, seething. In Firth he finally found an object in which to direct all his anger. After all, Firth had been the one who killed his father. It was Firth, this stupid stable boy, who got him into this whole mess to begin with. Now he was just another failed successor to the MacGil lineage.

“I hate you,” Gareth seethed. “What of your promises now? What of your confidence that I would wield the sword?”

Firth swallowed, looking very nervous. He was speechless. Clearly, he had nothing to say.

“I am sorry, my Lord,” he said. “I was wrong.”

“You were wrong about a lot of things,” Gareth snapped.

Indeed, the more Gareth thought about it, the more he realized how wrong Firth had been. In fact, if it were not for Firth, his father would still be alive today – and Gareth would not be in any of this mess. The weight of the kingship would not be on his head, all these things would not be going wrong. Gareth longed for simpler days, when he was not King, when his father was alive. He felt a sudden desire to bring them all back, the way things used to be. But he could not. And he had Firth to blame for all of this.

“What are you doing here?” Gareth pressed.

Firth cleared his throat, obviously nervous.

“I’ve heard…rumors…whispers of servants talking. Word has reached me that your brother and sister are asking questions. They’ve been spotted in the servants’ quarters. Examining the waste chute for the murder weapon. The dagger I used to kill your father.”

Gareth’s body went cold at his words. He was frozen in shock and fear. Could this day get any worse?

He cleared his throat.

“And what did they find?” he asked, his throat dry, the words barely escaping.

Firth shook his head.

“I do not know, my lord. All I know is that they suspect something.”

Gareth felt a renewed hatred for Firth, one he did not know he was capable of. If it wasn’t for his bumbling ways, if he had disposed of the weapon properly, he would not be in this position. Firth had left him vulnerable.

“I’m only going to say this once,” Gareth said, stepping close to Firth, getting in his face, glowering back at him with the firmest look he could muster. “I do not want to see your face ever again. Do you understand me? Leave my presence, and never come back. I’m going to relegate you to a position far from here. And if you ever step foot in these castle walls again, rest assured I will have you arrested.

“NOW LEAVE!” Gareth shrieked.