‘I was sent to help you; to shape your destiny; to build your legacy.’
C?ran scoffed, ‘Great start. I’ve barely begun this community and already half of them are dead.’
‘And why are they dead?’
C?ran looked at Galvahha as if she said something incomprehensible, ‘Because I ordered them to fight for me.’
‘And they had every chance of turning back. You are not their leader. You command the army, but that is all. And yet, they follow you. They believe in this land. It is their home now, and they will protect it and shape it for their futures and the futures of their children. And there is barely a human being on this Earth that will not protect that with their lives.’ Galvahha looked up to the graves as the Sun rose above the crest, ‘Their sacrifice was not done without thought. They died knowing the children hiding in the caves would grow up. And each one was happy to give them that chance.’ She looked back to C?ran and he felt the dampness of tears form in his eyes, ‘They did not fight because you ordered them to, they did it because they wanted to. Because you gave them the hope of a beautiful future.’
Galvahha rubbed C?ran’s shoulder and he fell into her arms.
*
A few months after the attack, the village had rebuilt the houses, replanted the crops, and held onto their civilisation. A few years went by with no attacks, and C?ran sat at his table, alone with his supper, a roll of bread and cheese. It was a small roll, the harvest hadn't been good last year, though the crops seemed to be flourishing ready for the coming autumn. Their fortune fluctuated like this, but they had never experienced a truly bad year.
He looked up as the door opened, and Galvahha walked through; 'How's the bread?' she asked.
'Stale,' C?ran said through a mouthful.
'I could get you some fresh if you would like?'
C?ran shook his head and indicated for Galvahha to take a seat; 'A king shouldn't feast while his subjects starve.'
Galvahha smiled, sitting down next to him, 'They're not exactly starving.'
'No, but it’s the thought that counts. I don't expect them to eat what I'm not prepared to.'
'There's been another engagement.'
C?ran laughed, 'What is it about hard times that makes people want to get married. I'll perform the ceremony tomorrow.'
Galvahha took C?ran's hand and he looked at her, smiling.
'It also makes everyone wonder why you don't have a queen yet,' she said.
'Because I'm not a king.'
'You're their leader, and they'll call you what they will. And don't change the subject.'
C?ran grasped hold of Galvahha's hand and absently rubbed it, 'I just don't have the time.'
Galvahha laughed, leaning towards him; 'That's the point of a queen. To share the burden of leadership.'
C?ran looked at her and his eyes flicked to her lips for a second before going back to her eyes; 'It is a lot of work.'
Galvahha closed in, and C?ran felt her breath on his moist lips as she spoke, 'I can handle it.'
C?ran smiled and his mouth brushed hers, 'I have no doubt you could.'
*
And in that one moment I became the angel queen, Galvahha Afir?na. C?ran's fate was sealed with mine, and we would leave our descendants to achieve great things. I watched them all from above, the kings and queens of Calnis, forging a great nation that would shape the history of the world. I mourned its destruction, but my people lived on and it is in honour of them that I now write the Chronicles, the history of Calnis and its legacy.
And I knew at C?ran's coronation that his statement to the people was God's truth; 'This small community, this country … this entire nation … will live forever.’
*
UK author J R C Salter trained as a chef and practiced for ten years before quitting to pursue a writing career. His epic series, the Calnis Chronicles, depict the adventures of different characters surrounding a mysterious artifact. During any spare time, he likes to dabble in photography, build giant Star Wars models from Lego, and make cookies. J has an unhealthy thirst for knowledge, and has been known to waste time on Wikipedia and YouTube.
www.calnis.com
https://www.facebook.com/jrcsalter
https://www.facebook.com/thecalnischronicles
*
My Contact
(Excerpted from The Package)
Cleve Sylcox
My name is Dave Winter. I work, or should I say I worked for, a snake of a lawyer named, Bill Tinsley better known as BT. He gave me the package to give to Al. He said he would do it himself but had a pressing engagement. With whom he didn’t say. He told me all about the forty G’s and then rushed off.
Shit, I didn’t have anything better to do and who couldn’t use that kind of money, so I hurried to the wharf.
BT told me to go into Moe’s, a flea trap of a joint at the edge of oblivion. The bar is built at the end of the wharf which hovers some forty feet above the bay. If you stagger the wrong way it might be your last because just below the bay’s surface lays Elizabeth, a sunken Russian vessel which exploded some years back. Her jagged belly points up toward Moe’s. I stared down at her in disbelief. Only thing separating me and a date with those sharp points was a thin railing. I turned and went into Moe’s dark ambience. You’ve seen joints like this. They keep the lights down low so you can’t see any…dealings, if you know what I mean.
BT’s instructions were clear, go to the back of the bar to a table with a painting of a pirate above it. I was to sit there. Not talking to anyone and most defiantly not drinking anything. My first contact was to give me further instructions. Cloak and Dagger…kind of find this stuff exciting.