Chapter 7
As the king lay down, he knew it was pointless. Another sleepless night. Exhaustion overtook him as images of times past filled his mind; he was standing outside. At his feet, a pair of black shinny boots hit the ground hard. Dust bellowed up from every direction.
His young son was placed in his arms. “Dad, dad!” He shouted as Kol sat him on the ground. “That was the most exciting thing ever!” Again, the black boots hit the ground with force, another child the same age as Frego was placed in the king’s arms. He wasn’t excited about his experience. Tears streamed down the little boys face.
When Kol sat him on the ground, he shook as he sputtered, “I’m, I’m going home.” He ran in the direction of his house.
“What just happened?” Kol asked his son.
“That was Iram, Jeramiah’s son. We were just playing.”
“So you climbed the bell tower?”
“Yes, it was exciting and scary. When the birds fluttered, we held our breath. We just knew something was after us. I didn’t know Iram was afraid of heights or I never would have taken him up there. Now I know he is afraid of birds, heights, and the Bejhar.” Frego laughed. “That was amazing. I can’t wait to do it again.”
“You know I don’t want you anywhere near the bell tower.”
“I know.” He pawed at the ground.
“Please tell me why the Bejhar had to save you?”
“Oh,” he puffed out his chest. “I didn’t need saving. Iram was scared stiff. I couldn’t just leave him up there. And I couldn’t move him. So I rang the bell.”
“I heard. We all heard.” Kol’s face was pointing down to the ground. He was talking more or less (now) to his sons head.
When he looked up, there she was, trying not to smile but losing the battle. She straighten her face and her tone. “You couldn’t have climbed back down if you had wanted to, young prince. Five of the steps collapsed behind you. That jump would have been too much distance and far too dangerous.” She was there. Right there. That white hair was going wildly in every direction. Those blue eyes sparkled. Something was different but he didn’t know what.
He cleared his head, “is the bell tower not locked, my son?”
Frego thought for a moment, “no sir, it wasn’t.”
“The next time you climb the bell tower, it will be for a totally different reason.” Frego kicked at the ground causing dust to boil up. “You are going to apologize to Iram. Tomorrow, you will help repair the damage to the bell tower.”
“Yes sir.” Frego answered in defeat.
“Where is?” He saw black dusty boots, “say thank you, my son.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Kol heard himself say.
“You are welcome, young prince. You are welcome, my king. I will check out the lock to the tower. Make sure it isn’t broken.”
“Thank you.” He woke with a start, covered in sweat. As he lit the candle, Max answered. It never occurred to him that it might not be Kessa.
“My king,” Max bowed his head.
Since Max was here, he might as well ask. “do you and other members of the Bejhar talk to each other? Let’s say you are walking the wall and find a brick loose, do you tell everyone else?”
“Yes, we collectively can’t fix a problem if we don’t know about it.”
“This was a long time ago. And it was Kessa, Frego and Iram were playing in the bell tower.”
Kol could tell Max had started thinking about that event.
“Steps had collapsed.”
“Yes.”
“Something else was strange about that.” Max continued thinking. “Something about a key. A lock.” He twisted his lips and wrinkled his nose. “Nothing was locked. Not the gate or the door. We have patrols that walk every inch of this city. Every night. We spent a good week trying to figure out if the guard on duty was lying to us or if someone had been messing around.”
“Did anyone ever tell me what you discovered?”
“That would have been Kessa. If she talked to you, she didn’t tell me. Not all information is shared.”
“Thank you.”
“My king.” He bowed his head and left.
Kol decided to try sleep one more time. He was watching Frego wrestle. “He’s good.” How long had it been since he’d heard that voice. Was it right? The pitch seemed a little off. Maybe?
“I think so.” He answered her question.
“You have done a fine job raising him.”
“I had a lot of help. What do you want?” He dared not look to his left just encase his mind was playing tricks on him.
“I didn’t get to know Kessa in life. What is she like?”
“What do you want?”
“I deserve that. I was a horrible wife.” She snorted. “The more you tried the harder I pushed.” Kol remained silent. “She’s pretty. Not as pretty as me. Where did she get white hair from?” She redirected her own conversation. That’s not why I’m here. You’ve been noticing that Kessa looks different in your dreams but you don’t understand why?” He finally turned to look at Sarah. Her black hair trailed off her shoulders around her arms. For just a moment, he remembered what attracted him to her in the first place. “She failed.” Sarah started laughing. “Failed!” She shouted as her wicked laughter faded away. “Failed.” Echoed through his head one more time.
Was this just one more chance for her to hurt him?
Poetry & More 