Huntsman

Chapter 6

After climbing the stairs beyond many floors, Abram and his escort came to one specific floor that had a large banner overhead, the fabric a deep purple with gold trimming and the symbol of the crowned dragon embroidered onto the center of it.

"Here," the rider said. He turned sharply, stepping onto the landing and gesturing for Abram to follow. He led the young man across the hall to an opening at the end. "Wait here until I return for you." With that, he disappeared through the opening.

Abram stood in a stiff pose, letting his eyes wander only as far as they could without his head following. It was a very bland hallway with barely anything to hold his attention for very long.

After what seemed an eternity, the rider came back out, stood to one side of the door and said, "Her Majesty is ready for you now."

Abram stared at the man for a moment, suddenly feeling as if his feet were laden with bricks. He mustered up the nerve to inch forward, however, and slowly made his way through the open doorway.

On the other side was another courtyard atop the veranda. It was a magnificent garden, with dark colored roses and other brooding flowers, and small blossom trees and neatly trimmed bushes. In the center was a fountain that spewed endless waters, and above it was a canopy of ivy leaves that came down in strands of curling vines. Standing in front of the fountain with her back toward Abram was the queen, a long purple cape draping across her slender form.

"So, you did not run?" Her voice was smooth and calm, her words slow and layered with the essence of grace. "What a smart young man." She turned her head slightly, the silhouette of her voluptuous lips barely visible. "This is the opportunity... Of a lifetime!" With that she spun around, her cape twirling and the hem of her greyish-purple dress swooshing. A wide grin split her brilliant red lips, her hands held out to each side. "Welcome, son of Aaron."

Abram was shocked to find that the queen was so beautiful. She was around the same age as his mother, with chestnut colored hair that curled in fat spirals and cascaded across one shoulder. Her eyes were a glistening blue, her lashes long and dark against her fair skin. However, beneath the beauty, one could see the malevolence that motivated her, a hint of wickedness that churned in her heart.

With graceful steps she glided toward Abram, studying him head to toe. "You resemble him, your father," she said. "Handsome, strong, defiant." Biting her lip, her eyes showed approval.

"Where is my father?" Abram blurted. He had longed to ask that question for many years, and the mention of him made it so he could no longer hold it back.

The queen froze. Her gaze lingered on him before she turned back to the fountain. "He ran from his duties. I couldn't let that example go to the other Huntsman's heads. I did what I had to."

Abram felt every muscle in his body go tense, his fists clenching until his knuckles went white. "You... You killed him?"

"I gave him a choice, really. Either come back and live the rest of his life in prison, or be assassinated. He didn't take well to either option. My rider had no choice but to slay him that instant."

"You..." Abram growled. His anger welled inside, choking him for a moment until his vision started turning black and all he could feel was hatred.

The queen raised an eyebrow, folding her hands in front of her. "Have you something to say?" Her tone was unthreatening, but the expression on her face dared the boy to be stupid enough to speak.

Abram bit his tongue, averting his eyes from her gaze. The queen looked almost disappointed, turning away from him. Seeing his chance, Abram whispered with a scowl, "Viper."

"Now," the queen started, apparently having not heard him, "your main skill is with your hunting knives, yes?"

Abram blinked. How did she know? "I know many skills," he said.

"Yes, but you're best with a blade. Hopefully a sword will feel much the same. Your father was a marvelous bowman. A great asset, really, except that he was a rebellious-" she stopped, glancing toward Abram. "Nevertheless, you will do good to remember that I do not tolerate traitors."

After a moment of silence, Abram realized she expected a response. With great bitterness, he forced his next words out, nearly coughing as his throat rejected his response. "Of course."