“Explain yourself immediately, Lynna." The gruff voiced snapped, all other conversation ceased in an instant. "Trade meetings are strictly forbidden to women. What are you doing here? ”
“Father, Megalem is hurt. I am afraid…” Tears welled up in the young woman’s eyes. Brushing them aside, she took a deep breath and continued. “I am afraid his fall may have been fatal.”
Hardly noticeable, King Cestan blanched beneath his scruffy red beard. He recovered instantly.
“What happened?!”
“He was thrown from his horse, my lord.”
“You have fetched him help?”
“Yes, I immediately rode to the commons and ordered the servants there to fetch Megalem. Then, I came to inform you myself.”
“You did well.” Turning to the two dozen staring eyes, Cestan told them “This meeting is temporarily postponed until further notice. You are dismissed.”
King Cestan stalked out of the dim council chamber followed by the trade representatives. All respectfully lowered their eyes as they passed the king’s daughter, except the last to leave. An Elf.
Kind, grey eyes searched Lynna’s face as he stood tall before her.
The Elf spoke first, slowly, choppy and with a soft, lisping accent. “My name is Ervyn. I am sorry to hear of this accident. I have been trained somewhat in medicine. I offer my services to your brother.”
“Thank you, sir. I only hope…” Biting her lip, Lynna looked away and tried to blink away the salty tears slipping down her flushed cheek.
A slim hand rested on her shoulder for an instant. Strength and comfort seemed to radiate from the Elf’s touch. “I will do all I am able to help him. You have my word, highness.”
Lynna sighed and nodded her thanks. The hand slid away; the door opened and closed once again. The princess slid against the wall to the blackened wood floor, unable to stand any longer. Finally, she allowed herself to cry.
Late that night in the infirmary, the Elf, called Ervyn, assembled the remainder of the royal family. Without Megalem, there was only the king and his daughter.
Ervyn spoke quietly. “Megalem is unconscious now, he may wake again. I am afraid to say that my efforts to heal him have done nothing, except perhaps save him some pain. I do not feel the end is far off.”
They had dreaded such news all day. The color drained from Lynna’s face. King Cestan frowned and placed an awkward hand on his daughter’s shoulder.
Ervyn sighed. After offering the simple wood backed chair to the family, the only furniture in the room besides the bed and a small table for a candle, he sat and kept vigil. The prince remained unconcious. His face, gruesomly pale in the candle-light twitched as the blood soaked bandage ceased to hide the growing bruise along his temple. Ervyn's eyes fixed to the dying visage. Around him, the world seemed empty. Still. Silent.
As if the whole village held its breath for its prince.
Something changed. Easing himself off the chair, Ervyn moved to the bedside. An early morning chill had settled into the room; the stone floor scraped loudly beneath his boots in the silence. In the corner, the princess had fallen asleep on a extra chair brought in after midnight. Her black hair sheilded her face as she slept fitfully. The king had dissapeared some ten minutes earlier.
Ervyn stooped over the prince. Megalem remained pale, but he lay too still. The expression too fixed.
Placing a hand above Megalem’s mouth, Ervyn felt for a breath. There was none. Ervyn placed a hand upon the forehead. It was cool and dry to the touch. The Prince Megalem, heir to the throne of Humans, was dead.
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