The kingdom of Joh’oprinia, its broad southern boundary shared by Conschala, had always enjoyed the closest relationship with the most powerful of the Ten Kingdoms of Hafer’ty since before the Age of Insipirility and even the peaceful years of the Pax Zehdr. Northernmost of the civilized Hafer’tian alliance, it served as barricade against the wilding Outlands, where existed permafrost, ice-pirates, madmen and feral Cromag tribes, its only assets the Temple of Ariadne and one of the Nine Swords – Rada, Sword of Da, Goddess of Loyalty from the House of Oflomemnon.
Rada, the Swordmark, landed in the Outlands after Xorus’ defeat in the third millennium by Ariadne’s Curse, was said to mark the path to the lost temple and could only be found by one possessed of a good heart, the other eight Swords and the Book of Ceremony. If the Swordmark was ever located, and the Ceremony of the Swords performed at the Temple, Nirvana, realm of the Emotions of Oflomemnon – fear, hate, joy, love, jealousy, insanity, excitement, empathy, loyalty and pride – could be invoked, allowing the ceremony-master to control all the peoples of Terra, for better or worse.
As the barrier between the Outlands and the Hafer’tian nations, Joh’oprinia had as herald of its royal house a Silver Dragon breathing fire atop a wall. King Percivale X, tenth in the line of Silver Dragon kings, wore a shirt with his family emblem as he sat on the morning of Mocrolester 46, 3100 in private court with three travelers from Asch’endra-Conschala. He knew well of Tarl-Cabot, who had some fortnights before betrothed the sister of Prince Joel V, who was himself troth to Crown Princess Ardanla, elder of Percivale’s two children. There was too the Baroness Val Tress, whose mother led her private army in the Battle of Mes-mo in 3040, the turning point of the Great Battle against the Outlanders when they invaded Joh’oprinia and Conschala. Percivale’s father spoke of the elder Baroness’ heroics, resulting in 3061 in the first beknighted Women.
And then there was Val’ha of Carias, the Elf whose destiny it was to save the capital and royal city of Joh’oprinia, Bjursk-la, against the invasion of the Xoran Dragons. Through his High Wizarder, the King was aware of Val’ha’s exploits leading up to her victory on the Island of Dragons from which the army had arisen, for the wizards of the Order of the Sage held communion with one another and their master, Lath-vecat, when the Song of Terra was in proper flux and thus benefited their monarchs with fast word of events – the destruction of the Dragon hoard, the death of Asch’endra-Conschala’s High Wizarder. Unfortunately, with Oromasus’ death had come a complete halt to any direction communication with King Joel’s court, and it was to King Percivale’s dismay and great sadness that nearly three weeks had come to pass before he heard of the Asch’endran assassinations and Crown Prince Joel’s declaration of regency.
"Let me tell you of your regent!" he scoffed. "Long was he member to my own court, strayed from the palace of the Blue Rose kings and bound here through his own indigence as much as my eldest Ardanla. I remember the day Ardanla returned home, Zynlester 65 of the year 3086, Lady A’gren in her arms and a third child on the way." King Percivale strayed into silence, lost in the long ago, even smiling vaguely for the drift of a second. "Our kingdoms, Joh’oprinia and Asch’endra-Conschala, the two most powerful in history’s records, allies in the Great Battle and keepers of peace for the centuries of my family’s line, back I am told as far as your own great Queen Moncrovia. There was hope then; now, tatters. King Joel sent forth his three eldest to their duchies in the weeks before 3087; Prince Adam was sixteen, an age that your king felt it wise, practical and necessary to learn governance with grace and insipirility."
"Princess Igri went to the Reiglo Islands," said Tarl-Cabot.
Percivale nodded without looking at him. "Indeed, and Prince Adam as Duke of Caterwauler went in the opposite direction. Later the two youngest came of age, which you may not know, Lady Val’ha, Princess Phelra became the Duchess of Verdish given domain over the mountain chain that divides Asch’endra from Conschala, with her seat, Castle Knife, at the pass near Gyger River. Prince Delvi-Alana just two years ago sailed to the commonwealth of North Mibwaze, a kingdom of its own until early last century when the royal lineage ended and its citizens held a referendum allowing for the Blue Rose insipiriles to expand their administration. But in explaining all of this, you see, I have not spoken of Prince Joel, who was given the grandest prize of them all – the crown duchy of Conschala, covering all of the land north of the Verdish Mountains.
"But he rejected it." Percivale looked down and scowled. "By Zeus, he rejected it – the duchy, the land. He rejected it and do you know why? Laziness, arrogance, choose your option, he did not want the wisdom of rule though first to take his father’s place above all other. Sometimes I think King Joel’s ploy to disperse his children to all corners of the republic was fed in part by his desire to rid Castle Moncrovia of his eldest son! But Prince Joel said no to Conschala – he even said that the northern half of your kingdom was, if I recall, repulsive desolation unworthy of firstborn rule."
"His errantry and the Conschalan insult have in the last decade become much-spoken of throughout our land," said Baroness Val Tress. "It was said he desired no less than Asch’endra! But I wondered then and still, lord King, where was Ardanla’s temperance in all of this insolence and vanity? For I state – and my estate rests on the dividing line of the kingdom’s two halves – that resistance and rejection by all Conschalans to their humiliation and spurning by Prince Joel runs deep, from Denlineil to Ospet to Gold Dragon and every town and village in between!"
It was nearly a minute before King Percivale answered, and as he did, he removed the thin silver crown from around his head and set it upon his lap. "I answer you, Baroness, as father, not King, and demand your oath of confidence before I speak of my daughter." When all in the room had agreed, he continued. "Ardanla met Prince Joel twenty years ago when he arrived with your King, who was negotiating with me to create freer borders between our nations. The Prince and Ardanla had both assumed the age of majority and struck a quick friendship that led to love. They were betrothed and a year later bore their first child.
"Where was my daughter, you ask? Where was my daughter…my children Ardanla and Ghotrick are gifted with magickal blood, their late mother’s courtesy from her Elven forebearage. Ardanla was bright as a star and brought spring into my heart every day. Upon her betrothal she departed to Castle Moncrovia four years, only returning upon the exodus of the King’s scions. When she came back," Percivale said coldly, "Ardanla was a different girl, dour, and kept to corners in any room she was in. Fool I was in need of no jester – I had no room atall for the Prince and I dismayed of Conschala’s degradation, but what else could I do? I am insipirile! I could not refuse my daughter and grandchildren residence! I also do not busy myself in the affairs of my children, but with Ardanla and Joel in the castle I saw too much, heard too much, daily fighting and divorcement twice, and it grew much worse. I offered them their own palace just so I would not have to witness the hurt he caused my daughter and her children, but Joel was too lazy to occupy his own authority and Ardanla too collapsed in spirit to seek any guidance, so I hardened my heart and disavowed my tears and somehow we made it through the passage of time. I must tell you, when after Xorus’ second coming Ardanla’s family was beckoned back to Castle Moncrovia earlier this year, I was relieved – no, overjoyed It shames me to admit this, but it is true. The greater danger now, I fear as much as my counsel, is that without the balance of her family – her own people, Ardanla will descend further into the squalor of the Prince’s influence, for if he has nothing else, he has charm and a serpent’s tongue, and his dark charisma has brought many to accept and agree to words and deeds they would otherwise not.
"Prince Joel is an errant, a malcraft, and it saddens but does not surprise me what has happened to you," he said to Val’ha, Tarl-Cabot and the Baroness. "I rue the day he ever met my daughter! But I also must tell you that my agreement to an audience with you today, despite our indebtedness to you for saving the lives of so many here, does not guarantee your asylum, however temporary you seek it."
Val’ha looked around Silver Dragon Hall, with its green marble floor and oblong walls, malachite pillars and green jade throne, was famed for the ancient weaponry that hung between its narrow, barred windows, the arms having been used in the Great Battle by Percivale VIII and his captains. The doors were locked, with guards in full armor just outside; the three now before the King had arrived at first light to request asylum, having traveled at full pace from Castle Ohrt, where on the night of Mocrolester 24 they witnessed the murders of their King and Queen.
Seated in long-chairs pulled from the side of the room were High Advisor Pivrax Vu and High Wizarder Heemstress, who initially met (not very well) with Val’ha and the others at their arrival. Percivale asked their counsel and Heemstress, a dark Woman of many years clad in black robes and with hair so long she sat upon it, placed her ring-laden hands over her eyes before answering. "From their testimony the three fugitives rode as discreetly as possible after their passage through Denlineil to here. You truly steered wide of Gold Dragon city?"
The Baroness breathed deeply. "I beg your pardon, High Wizarder, but yes – as we have told you before, we parted company with the road leagues before Gold Dragon and it was no minor feat that our mounts were able to pass over all of the fences and farmlands of the Gold Dragon Fields."
"If the chance of your detection or recognition – you, Baroness, still wear the red-cross bearings of your house, and you, Sir Tarl-Cabot, the mark of the Blue Rose, and all of you have renown," said the High Wizarder. "If you escaped the Prince’s posses and reward-posters as successfully as you say, my counsel to you, King Percivale, comes in the form of three questions: "Has Prince Joel used Ardanla’s magic to divine their whereabouts? Second, if the two knights outside who also sought refuge with their friends in Denlineil, were met with such ease, can we or can we not be sure eyes unknown to all of them did not also witness their exodus from Asch’endra-Conschala? And last, will the memories of those who saw these five renegades plot the trail for Prince Joel to follow them here?"
The Baroness Val Tress sputtered, but Val’ha stood and silenced her further by removing from her tunic and holding aloft her mother’s protection amulet. "See here, King Percivale. Though I do not know your daughter or her powers, this charm veils us from detection by Xorus, and divine power exceeds that of any Terran wizard. If it is enough for him, I am sure magickal mortals could not find us." Heemstress did not move.
Percivale smiled. "Prince Joel from first meeting my daughter has had undue influence upon her. It breaks my heart, but if she used the magickal blood passed through her late mother’s line for him…" He shrugged. "Lady Val’ha, you answered my High Wizarder’s first question well, but what of her second concern?"
"We did stop after three days’ travel at Andy and Farron’s for respite, but in the passing of night with none other on the highway between Moncrovia and Denlineil. We left before daybreak, and I do not think Andy or Farron would betray our visit even under threat of arrest, so strong is their agreement that we have been done grave injustice. As to meeting Sir Quigley and Sir Porcie, who attend our horses in your stables, they were returning from Denlineil after a day of searching for High Wizarder Oromasus. When we told them of his death and what had happened to King Joel and Queen A’gren, how Prince Joel accused us of killing them and Sir Thoryn’s imprisonment, Porcie realized he would be returning to his own dungeon and Sir Quigley as well, for the Prince desires from his own words to capture anyone, everyone associated with us. Therefore, it was more than coincidence that we happened upon Porcie and Quigley."
"That Prince Joel desires revenge to the point of distraction is no surprise to me. Though tedious, he is also cruel verging toward mad," agreed the King, "and so my High Wizarder’s worry that his spies might have caught you crossing our border. Myself, I have no wish, with Zeus’ providence just missing the invasion of the Dragon hoard, to have the regent army of Prince Joel declare war upon us for harboring you."
"What say you to my last question?" Heemstress drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair, tinking her tin bracelets.
"Andy and Farron gave to us supplies, including over-cloaks that we used to hide our emblems," said Tarl-Cabot. "We cannot in the end guarantee none recognized us, but I must protest that this risk is small…"
"Still, it is there." Heemstress turned to the King. "By their own admission, then, Prince Joel could now be on his way to our country intent upon conflict. We cannot, when over half of your knights are in these days at the Northern Wall, battle against the Asch’endran army if even a third of King Joel’s outposts swear fealty to his son."
The High Wizarder refused to address or even look at Val’ha, Tarl-Cabot or the Baroness, who was having none of her caution. "Pah!" she yelled. "How it is that your kingdom comes with such fame as protector against the Outlands, I cannot see from this cowardice! Pox on you, wizard, if you will not give us but a few days to regroup and ponder! If you think for a moment that you would not all be dead but for Val’ha and Tarl-Cabot here, then your stupidity exceeds your chicken-heart!" She stood and stomped to the opposite side of the room.
Heemstress’ glower only hardened, and she crossed her legs and arms. "You are quiet, High Advisor Pivrax," said King Percivale finally to the gawky seven-foot Grey Troll next to him. "Speak."
Pivrax Vu was a member of the only intelligent race of Trolls on Terra, with deep grey skin, immense hands and feet, long thin noses and receding foreheads, dull black eyes and hair the color of iron, descendant of tribal trolls who aspired to mix with the civilized races, arriving at the Bloyck of Trolls – an old section of Bjursk-la that had fallen into tenements and disrepair – during the first year of the Age of Insipirility. "Kkkking-ing P’sssvall," said Pivrax, his voice a mix of fast hisses and high squeaks, "I-I-I sssseeee mmmy-self-elf nnnno-no-no gggggg-oo-ggoood ccccome tttt-o kkk-ick-inging outttt thththisssss five warrrrr-i-rrriors. ifth-thth-eyey here nowwwww-now, dammmmm-dam-damage isss d-d-donnnne alllllll-rrrr-eady." Pivrax whispered for a half-minute to the King before loping across the room to retrieve the Baroness.
"Yes, yes." King Percivale stood and clapped his hands. "There is ground between my advisors. The three of you will depart using the private door through which you came, and for several days more you may be the guest of the Vu family, but then I must ask you to leave my kingdom, for I wish no conflict with Prince Joel."
**
"Wretched bother!" said the Baroness after they rejoined Porcie and Quigley, covering their mail and crests with the over-cloaks at Pivrax’ strong urging, and were now being served vegetable soup by Lady Vu, pulling oversize tureens and spicejars down from shelves and cupboards Val’ha would need a ladder to reach. She had delighted upon first entering the Bloyck section of Bjursk-la, its dried-mud buildings long ago hidden behind trees, bushes, woodferns and flowers of every type and color, leaves falling and birds in every branch – it flooded her senses in most pleasant ways and made her long for Carias. Half of the tenement dwellers appeared to be engaged in tending to the flora, many waving cheerily at Pivrax when he rode by with his guests.
In the Vu’s four-room tenement were vases of dazzling floral sprays; sparrows and bluejays flew in and out of the open windows to perch on them. Unfortunately, most of the rooms were quite dirty as a result, but the dining and cooking area were quite clean and the bubbling soup brought comfort to Val’ha’s spirit, for it inspired other memories of nights in Carias’ cold shadow, with her father telling her of the gods and races mortal and immortal, making his herb stew and filling her mind with wonder and wisdom.
In response to the Baroness, Lord Vu broke apart his long-bread and dipped it carefully, his old coal eyes studying first those to his left, then those to his right, then his troth as she sat down to her own bowl. He lifted the moist loaf to his crooked teeth but did not eat. "Hhhhheeeeemstress-annn insss-ip-ipi-piril-asssizzzz…King," he said. "Fthfth-ey-ey arrrrrrrrrre nnna-t-t-t-ure p-p-peace-sssslov-oving-ing."
"They will not come to even the momentary aid of those who saved their lives! Damned insipiriles!" The Baroness took a draught of her wine.
"Baroness!" said Porcie. "Just because an insipirile does not wish to intervene is no reason to cast poxes upon them, for many are persons of grace and character. There is much to be said for insipirility in the Ten Kingdoms, and I for one would rather have open gates than mile-high walls surrounding every palace, meaning no offense to your Northern Wall." His brow raised at Pivrax.
"Nnnnn-ononessss t-t-taaakken."
"Still, is there no obligation when one’s life has been saved by another to honor the debt if it is possible? I did not travel night and day to exhaustion, hide myself in shame and become cut and dirtied over the course of these weeks just to be thrown back to that murdering cousin of mine, enough that I can only guess what he has done with the Baron!"
"I take as I have before," said Tarl-Cabot, "responsibility for this idea and I assert it is still our best chance. Prince Joel is, from Igri’s own testimony, intemperate beyond words and has always been so. You were there, Baroness, when you saw him ready to kill us despite the arrows having come from the surrounding wood, and you heard him mock proof and justice in determining Thoryn’s guilt…"
"I am well-versed in the shortcomings of my cousin, my lord."
"The only greater authority that can reason with Prince Joel was and remains King Percivale – no other has the power to counter the Prince’s rage with reason and until we determine a way to find the true assassins, our best hope lies in alliance with Joh’oprinia."
**
"The magician Feukpi has formed an alliance with Prince Joel, restored Castle Ohrt as his own and joined the search for you," High Wizarder Heemstress told them the next day in her dusty, scroll-strewn chamber. After dinner the prior evening, Pivrax had left the five visitors to his parents’ hospitality and returned to his own quarters in the royal palace, but during the morning’s breakfast returned, his face flushed with barely contained rage. He summoned them to the High Wizarder’s chambers on consent of the King, and in spite of their expectations he neither asked that they cover their heraldry nor escorted them through secret passages, but brought them instead through the main gates of Castle Bjursk-la. Pivrax would not, however, reveal the reason for his anger, only that Heemstress wished an audience. "It is necessary," finished the High Wizarder, "that your protection amulet does not fail you now."
"I do not expect that it will," Val’ha said, "but how do you know so much of Feukpi’s doings? We grant you that we too saw Ohrt’s restoration…"
Heemstress waved her hand and closed her eyes. "I do not consort with malcrafts, much less agents of Xorus. But I do hold communion outside of my Order, with those I have befriended for many years. A Denlineilian alchemist Cagliostra, is her name known to you?"
"Yes! She gifted us with a poison of her making once, witches brew."
"Ah!" A look of warm remembrance crossed Heemstress’ hard-etched face. Pivrax cleared his throat suggestively to bring the wizard back to her task. "Cagliostra has many skills, and communed to me what is happening in your homeland on several occasions since Oromasus died. It is her belief that the consolidation of Xorus’ power is nearing completion with the Xoran birthstone now inside the walls of Castle Moncrovia. With Feukpi near, the city shattered and Xorus’ fog capturing the spirits of any who die under its shroud, he may even be readying to raise the corpses and bones of the mist-covered dead to replace the vast defections from the Blue Rose army."
"Is it Prince Joel’s plan to nominate Feukpi as his own high wizard?" Porcie asked.
"It may be, but if so, the Prince is foolish," said Heemstress. "It is not in the capacity of Master Feukpi to hold communion, and such craft is necessary for even consideration by the Order. There are few who wield the power to commune – Cagliostra is one, the Sages, there are others. No, Sir Porcie, to answer your question, if there is no communing wizard in residence, as is the case with the Asch’endran throne, the crown scion must come to ally with another who can seek directly from the Sages their endorsement. I believe Prince Joel intends for Feukpi more immediate purposes." Heemstress said no further.
"Ccccon-onnnnnnntin-tinue ppphphllease," urged Pivrax after several moments of quiet, moving his arms up and down numerous times.
"It is valuable this information you have revealed to us," said Val’ha, "but was Cagliostra able to discover who bears the opal birthstone?"
"No, for she went not to Castle Moncrovia but Castle Ohrt, to call upon Feukpi on her trip home from the Magickal City, Bylikaegra. Before I speak further, I issue to all of you my apology for yesterday. Our first reaction to your presence here was not the calling of insipirility but its shadow, call it what you will."
"We accept," the Baroness said, "but why does your heart change over the course of one night?"
"Realization." The High Wizarder lapsed into silence again.
Pivrax began to breathe heavily. "Beeeeee-trayallll."
Heemstress clutched herself. "High Advisor! I will not countenance your lack of boundary in this room! The King agrees with my actions…"
"Come, come, now!" said Baroness Val Tress. "I am out of patience with your secrecy, Master Vu – betrayal? Speak to us, Wizard Heemstress."
"I communed last night with Cagliostra, as I said before." Heemstress shunned Pivrax. "Our communion is the source of my summons to you today, for the issue of your amnesty in this land," she addressed Tarl-Cabot, "has been rendered moot."
Tarl-Cabot stiffened. "Why do you look so at me?"
"It seems that on your journey to the Island of Dragons, Feukpi discovered two things about you – one, that you wield a Sword of the Nine?"
"Yes." Tarl-Cabot held the hilt of Crundin, the Empathetic Sword, and turned his body away from Heemstress as if to hide it; his eyes widened. "Feukpi’s troth, Carla! She discerned both my Sword’s purpose and its hiding-spell in the cavern of the stone matrix, she told it to Feukpi – I remember now. What other information did they divine?"
"On the ship’s passage you spoke with one called Tropruscht, a mercenary from Denlineil?"
"I did – but in truth it was Tropruscht who spoke to me."
"There was one who heard your conversation," said Heemstress; Tarl-Cabot swerved, his eyebrows raised at Val’ha. "The he-Elf Tarnac."
"Tarnac?" several of them asked at once.
"He heard you speak of a child."
Val’ha’s mind raced back to that day aboard the Bugbear…With most everyone on deck, she had gone below when she happened upon Tropruscht and Tarl-Cabot and eavesdropped unintentionally on the revelation of their child. Tarnac, who disappeared for several days during the Dragon journey and they discovered later was under Carla’s spell, Tarnac was not aboveboard with Flegretha. He must have been resting.
Tarl-Cabot tapped his foot once and then revealed his six-year-old boy, Tarlos. "It was to remain private," he said, "until after my betrothal to Princess Igri, who was delighted with news of another child, but then came…" Futility flattened his last words. "I have not seen my troth since the night I left for Castle Ohrt. I understand that Tarnac could have discovered Tarlos and told his enchanters, but of what importance is that here, lady wizard?"
"The Sword and the child are connected through Inez, daughter of Feukpi, for she has found and taken the child."
Whistles and gasps filled the room, and Val’ha felt as though cold water had been poured upon her. "Do not tell me…do not tell us that Xorus has renewed his pursuit of the Swords!"
"Xorus has never abandoned his goal to possess every Sword," High Wizarder Heemstress said, "but no, it is his most immediate desire. That said, Crundin is a valuable prize, one of only three left in the Terran realm, and its discovery has hatched greed in Inez to claim the Sword for her master. Xorus is allowing her this task, and she has learned well from her father: She ransoms Tarlos for its trade." Porcie, whose ownership of the Sword Dervish once stirred Feukpi to kill his intended and kidnap one of King Joel’s courtiers for it, rested his hand on Tarl-Cabot’s shoulder and then embraced him fully when Tarl-Cabot appeared to grow weak in his legs.
"The loss, then, of Dervish meant nothing in the end?" Val’ha asked in equal horror and dismay. "Oromasus went to his death for nothing?"
Heemstress frowned. "He saved Castle Moncrovia, Lady Val’ha, and has taken the Sword of which you speak to the limbic realm, but in essence your High Wizarder did little but slow Xorus’ quest for dominion." She turned once more to Tarl-Cabot. "Three Swords there are in the Terran realm, and Rada cannot be had until the others are found. It is known to Xorus that the Asch’endran papacy protects the Excited Sword, Dop-splythe; Feukpi will move toward its theft soon. But for you – for each of you – as I stated before, your attendance here is moot if you choose to save this child."
"How does Cagliostra become so involved in this?" Val’ha challenged.
"Under cover of a seduction-spell, Cagliostra gleaned from Feukpi the intentions of Inez, feigning her consideration over the role of Prince Joel’s High Wizarder. When she returned to Denlineil, it was a meeting of the city’s elders that sealed Cagliostra’s involvement."
"What do you mean?"
"She is an alderwoman on the town council with Mayor Gregarcantz and the explorer, Nopaach-to. Gregarcantz one night commiserated the loss of Tarlos over whom he is guardian and revealed, Sir Tarl-Cabot, your relationship to the lad. Then Lord Nopaach-to spilled forth, I am sure innocently, that your friends Andy and Farron confided in him your stay."
"But we did not tell Andy our destination!" Val’ha cried. "He would not know that we came all the way to Bjursk-la to petition King Percivale."
"Beeeeee-trayallll," seethed Pivrax again. "Sh-sh-sheeee betrayed-ed-ed you."
High Wizarder Heemstress threw up her hands. "Betrayal! Check your words, High Advisor…"
Several knights called out and there was great disruption in the room, with Heemstress defending herself and the Baroness pounding out of the room, "Gossip! Happenstance! Circle of idle talkers!" her last words.
"Cagliostra sought my guidance! I did what was necessary! You wish to save your son, do you not?" After everyone had inured to the High Wizarder’s betrayal of their whereabouts, she said, "Gregarcantz awaits you, Duke Tarl-Cabot – and there is one, another of his wards, who will guide you to the Lost Caves where Inez has stolen off with your child. I suggest you make haste back to Denlineil…"
"Th-th-they cammmmmmmme, they c-c-camme assssssssyl-ll-lumm, wi-wi-wi-wizzzarddd, not-not beeeee-tr-trayalll." Pivrax pointed his long grey finger into Heemstress’ nose, pushing her head back against her chair before she revolted with a crackling yellow-light from her hands. Pivrax stepped back, throwing down his Joh’oprinian signet ring and ripping off his Dragon-wall long-coat. "Beeeeee-trayalll! I-I-I cccc-cannott dev-dev-devise anoth-th-therrr mommmmmmmment-ent-ent…" In the end the High Advisor resigned his position after meeting with King Percivale to protest Heemstress’ actions and was given remuneration, a silver javelin and a giant goat, Vuvu his mount. With a stash of rosebuds and dried bark from the Vus for their son, thistles for Vuvu and Porcie, Quigley, Tarl-Cabot and the Baroness in unmarked shirts, hooded fur cloaks and horse-barding instead of the herald and mail they had arrived with, Pivrax led his new journeymates through the rusty collapse of Old Bjursk-la and southwest toward the border of Asch’endra-Conschala to save Tarlos.
**
The Bjursk-lan Plain occupied the coastal lowland between Joh’oprinia’s capital and the oak-spotted rolling hills of its southwest border, was three day’s journey. The journeymates went openly along the coastal highway, agreeing to leave the road when they reached the boundary crossing, which forked northwest on the Conschalan side to M’trossmyph’ and continued down the coastline to Gold Dragon.
The Baroness and Tarl-Cabot, for the thousandth time it seemed to Val’ha on the third morning as they decamped for the day’s travel, were again discussing the assassinations, with diminishing hope they might ever find any answers. "Prince Joel, I am evermore certain, arranged for his parents to be killed," said the Baroness. "I acknowledge, Sir Tarl-Cabot, that you are correct the arrows flew from a third direction, the woods behind the King and Queen, not where the Prince and his guards came through the gates of Castle Ohrt. But if you have not realized that mercenaries, even members of his own entourage, could easily…"
"This I grant you, Baroness, but what else to make of his presence there? It was simply too much for me to believe the Prince’s claim of spying on them, and if he did spy upon them, to what end? Concern for their welfare? He was counting the days to their deaths and his power."
"You know yourself it would be easy to eavesdrop, Tarl-Cabot – his chambers in the castle adjoin those of his parents; a hidden door, a crack in the wall, magic could carry the King and Queen’s bedroom talk to unexpected ears. I agree to your uncertainty about his motives where they were concerned, but still I cannot reconcile the Prince’s culpability in their deaths and those of their advisors despite his otherwise blatancy. Something in me senses that he might really have been telling the truth."
Such rhetoric continued throughout the morning, with Val’ha, Porcie and Quigley occasionally joining in when a new idea occurred to them. There remained other questions as well in Val’ha’s mind, Why were the three of us in particular summoned? Was Xorus’ opal birthstone or Xorus himself involved in the four murders? And who possesses it?
The specific date of their meeting with Mayor Gregarcantz of Denlineil regarding Inez and Tarlos was unsettled, but the time had to be nightfall and the location the home of newly-betrothed Lady Farron and Lord Andy. Mention of them brought a new strain of conversation, one that had also been turned over and again with no resolution. "Andy!" Baroness said. "Lord Loosetongue, we should not trust him."
"Lady Baroness!" said Porcie in exasperation. "Andy would not have revealed to any other but his master – he knew fully the implication of telling anyone, but I can see with great ease how he might confide such extraordinary news as your visit. I do not, however, think highly of Lord Nopaach-to."
"Then please leave the room when I bat Andy’s ears for such poor judgement, Sir Porcie."
"The bigger concern, as I have from the moment of Heemstress’ telling, is Cagliostra," said Val’ha. "If she offered herself falsely to Feukpi as candidate for high wizard, she could also be portraying to Heemstress falsely that she is not interested."
"Honestly! I do not think the Order of the Sages would accept one of her low caliber even if she was interested," said the Baroness. "She uses her spells of seduction and charm to persuade not just Feukpi, but Heemstress. I suspect what you say, Lady Val’ha, rings true, and it is also my intuition that Cagliostra plays different roles to different people."
"To what purpose?" asked Sir Quigley.
"Why does the confusion fly feast upon the earwax of carrion?" With the Baroness’ last image, everyone lapsed into silence until midday.
They spotted the first posters almost as soon as they were within range of the border junction. "’By decree of the Prince Regent,’" said the signs in part, nailed on trees and freestanding posts, "’A declaration and reward for capture of Sir Tarl-Cabot of Azimq’haadrin, Val’ha Elf of Carias and Baroness Val Tress, ten thousand silvers each for treason and the murders of King Joel IV and Queen A’gren, High Advisor Arpon-Altraine and Lady Frippe; and for detainment, killing or arrest of Captain Eedebee of the Bugbear, Sir Thoryn of Azimq’haadrin, Lady Aeysla of Moncrovia and Sir Preston-Altraine, five thousand silvers each for conspiracy of abovesaid crimes.’"
"Eedebee and Thoryn escaped!" Val’ha was ecstatic that her friends were at least, according to the parchment before them, free from Prince Joel’s clutch; she was, however, mortified to see Aeysla’s name on the list and wondered how she had become involved.
"Good fortune for them," said Baroness Val Tress. "By the absence of his name, it looks as though my Baron did not."
"I think as well," Porcie told Quigley, "we were, if what was said of defections from the Blue Rose army is true, likely considered deserters."
They reached a particularly thick patch of oaktrees when Pivrax, gone ahead past a small hill that hid the junction from their immediate view, raced back on his goat. "Th-ththerrrre Bluuuu-blue Rrrrrooose g-g-guarddssss."
The Asch’endrans needed no further explanation and led their mounts into the oakgrove until Pivrax said he could see them no more. "Ask after the welfare of the other princes and princesses, Sir Pivrax," requested Tarl-Cabot.
Pivrax positioned himself as though casually reading a poster on one of the tree trunks when Val’ha heard the army contingent, from the hoof-falls at least a hundred, slow and halt. "You there!" called a Woman. "You are one of the Grey Trolls, are you not, from the royal city, Bjursk-la?"
"Aaaaaahhh!" Pivrax’s voice was filled with almost too much merriment; Val’ha did thank her fortune, at least, that the wind shifted enough for her to hear what was being said. "Iiii-m, attttt-rr-rr ssss-er-ervice. What-at br-brings th-thphth-isss ffarr? Nnnnno-oo g-g-guardssss ourr b-b-bord-d-derss yearss."
"That has been true, master Grey-Troll," the Woman said. "I am Captain Cyr of the Asch’endra-Conschalan army under regent Prince Joel V. The insipirility agreement between our two countries, as you state, has traditionally meant that no guards occupy our shared borders, but I must tell you that Prince Joel has decreed his withdrawal from that treaty. We are heading to M’trossmyph’ to begin its fortification. More follow us to guard this road."
"G-g-g-ggguard? P-p-ppppaarrrrrr-parddd-onn, b-bb-buttttssss un-unp-preced-dented." Pivrax’s merriment was replaced by alarm. "Iss K-k-kingg Phph-perr-civvale b-b-b-betoldd?"
A long moment passed before Captain Cyr answered. When she did, Val’ha could sense more than anything else doubt and discomfort. "We must be off, Master Troll. You are fortunate, you know – when my rear guard arrives to patrol this road, there will be none who cross either way without inquiry or investigation. By the way, I see you read the posting. I do not suppose you would be able to tell us…"
"P-p-prayy w-w-ass l-looook-king ssssym-sym-symbolsss. C-c-c-annnnnnottt r-r-readdd."
"Good day then." With that Siress Cyr led her contingent to M’trossmyph’ and Pivrax fed his goat thistles until they could no more be seen or heard.
Sir Tarl-Cabot was about to chastise Pivrax for asking so few questions, but the Baroness came to his defense. "Do not be wont for so much so soon, Lord Duke. I am certain the Denlineilian Mayor will tell us much. For now we must depart from this highway lest we meet another party."
**
After five nights’ journey through the Conschalan countryside, the journeymates arrived in Denlineil just as opaline fog started to drift across the river and blot out the starlight. It took some minutes to find the Flooher’ty’s bedroom window and awake Andy and Farron. They were distraught that Lord Nopaach-to had broken his oath of silence and told Cagliostra and Gregarcantz of their friends’ stop through Denlineil weeks past, but not surprised since Nopaach-to had himself confessed to Andy his error, with no defense but that he wanted to aid Tarlos. Farron served bread and apple toddies, stoked the sitting-room hearth to life and departed for Gregarcantz’ house. Under the moonlight that reflected off Denlineil Stream into Farron’s sitting-room, Andy paced about. "With Gregarcantz’ remorse over Tarlos’ abduction and Cagliostra’s revelations about Feukpi discovering your relationship to the boy."
"What is worse, my friend," said Tarl-Cabot, "Gregarcantz knew already that I was father to Tarlos. There was no need for Cagliostra to hear we had seen you."
"I am sorry, to all of you I am so sorry," said Andy.
"Cease your lamentations, young Man. It is done."
"It is not done, Siress Val Tress." Gregarcantz, baggy-eyed and wringing his hands, entered the room with Farron. "It is not over – I fear it is beginning."
Farron went to Andy and embraced him. "Go on, master Elf," said the Baroness. "Clarify your words."
"Four days ago, Alderwoman Cagliostra resigned her commission and moved to Moncrovia, where beyond that I know nothing. She told me you had gone to seek asylum from King Percivale. She spoke of you," Gregarcantz nodded at Pivrax Vu, "and that you are acting on behalf of Joh’oprinia’s King to assist in Tarlos’ rescue."
Pivrax hissed and his skin turned from grey to black; his eyes bulged from their sockets and he muttered words of a tongue Val’ha had never heard. "Pivrax was not sent by their King!" she argued. "We were rejected in our petition and kicked out of Joh’oprinia by King Percivale and his wizard."
"The truth is not of interest to Cagliostra, though I myself do not doubt you," Gregarcantz said. "She intends to tell Prince Joel, if she has not already, that you have come to Denlineil to ransom the child, after which Percivale has extended to you the custody of his kingdom’s protection."
"All lies!" the Baroness said. "We have no future beyond recovering Tarlos and contending with Inez."
"That is so, but Prince Joel’s guards must by now be on their way here, I am certain, with many questions for me and, if the level of Cagliostra’s betrayal is as I suspect, others as well. I will deal as leader of my city with whatever consequences befall us here, but to you," Gregarcantz waved to Andy and Farron, "I recommend you pack whatever you can and flee from Denlineil – Cagliostra has implicated you for giving shelter to our friends." Fear crossed Farron’s face; words formed on Andy’s lips, but he could not muster them. Now to the rest of you, see across the river where lives your guide Ma’teus." Mayor Gregarcantz pointed out a black-stone lodge and as he unveiled all that he knew of Tropruscht, Inez and the kidnapping of Tarlos, Val’ha’s eyes strayed to a boat she had once seen from the sky, once from the ocean and several times from land. It was Flegretha’s merchant ship, the Dwarfkeep.
**
"Blast that fog!" Flegretha slammed her shutters against the opaline fog that floated outside the pantry window in the home she shared with Tarnac. "It is the mark of Xorus settling himself into Moncrovia, to be sure. What do you say, Fess?"
Fess scraped some more butter onto his crust. "I do not wish for more days as this one, Lady Flegretha. Bad enough that the quake should shake apart your smithery, having to lose a day’s progress is not especially welcome when we must finish the spiced swords ordered by the Baron Val Tress before he departs to his estate."
"Bless the saints he was in town for the royal betrothal, dear assistant, much less Lord Nopaach-to’s recommendation of our great invention. Godspell also that our shop did not take the damage of many buildings around us." Flegretha sat on a stool across the heavy-legged pine table from Fess and poured her copper mug full with hopsbrew.
"That is true. Hail to good fortune!" Fess, half sylvan, half Short Elf, ran Flegretha’s smithery, attached to her dwelling in the northwest part of the Royal City. As intended of Tarnac’s sister Oru, he had his own keys to the main house and often, like today, shared supper (or at least bread and hopsbrew) with Flegretha and Tarnac.
Unfortunately, Tarnac had gone missing a day prior and under normal circumstances Flegretha would not worry; still, Tarnac was strange since Xorus’ witch Carla threw opaline dust into his eyes. When they had returned from the Island of Dragons and gone by Tarnac’s merchantry on their way home, he started ranting in old tongues or godspeak, which Flegretha could not tell. Tarnac grew even paler and blathered of meeting the Xoran witch, Inez! Flegretha tried to bring Tarnac to seek for help when she finally got him home, but then he ran out for an hour and was back with another Elf named K’aleb who awaited unseen outside. Tarnac said he must seek the Crystal Caverns of Loran and not to follow him and his mysterious journeymate, but before he packed and armed himself, he kissed Flegretha on her cheek and promised his return, his full cure from Xorus’ pull and an explanation of his quest. Flegretha did not have time for any questions before he left again.
"Fortune to Tarnac as well," she hailed to Fess. "I did not know if he had jested or raved when he spoke of meeting witches half a kingdom away, but the moon arrives and he is gone a second night!"
Fess put on his coat to leave. "I cannot imagine but that Master Tarnac will find his way back to you. By the by, as I have spent the greater part of this day fixing our tools and repairing the smithery, tomorrow we can redouble our efforts to complete the Baron’s order, I promise you."
"Aye, dear Master Fespomorulantz, if there is no quake, if there is no quake." Flegretha slept badly that night when she did at all, wondering why she had not held Tarnac down to stop him from leaving, who K’aleb was, why it was necessary to meet Inez and what would be Tarnac’s fate in the Loran forest.
At midnight Flegretha lit a candle and went to her front door, opening it to a blast of cold air. Fingers of the opaline fog wafted into the house; she slammed the door shut and drank cherry wine until she fell asleep at her pantry table, dreaming of Tarnac being chased endlessly through crystalline caverns by a light-circled shadow.
She awoke at first light the next day, crumbs on her face, panic in her spirit and another quake rattling the spoons and pans off the walls. The ceiling cracked from one end to the other, and Terra rolled for numberless seconds, making Flegretha rush to find her bedpan and relieve her sickness. "I can no more," she said aloud. "No more!" She determined at that moment to search for Tarnac anywhere she could think of, then proceeded to do so – he was at none of the inns or shops they frequented, nor his merchantry or anywhere else. Flegretha ended up at the Moncrovian port around midmorning to scour her vessel, the Dwarfkeep, to no avail. She did not realize how much hope she had invested in her expectation that Tarnac might be on their ship; in a surge of frantic despondence she raced to the Bugbear. There was noone aboard, much to her surprise, for Eedebee had claimed the ship to be her prison.
By the time Flegretha was above-hatch from her search of the Bugbear she was beside herself, but then she spotted just beyond the prow a horse and remembered Val’ha lived near the port past the trees at the end of town. Flegretha almost tripped in her dash across the shoreline to the dwellings on the other side. She arrived at the very end-block of the city, the buildings a mix of levels, some with broken windows and cracked walls. Through the glass of the lodging furthest south, Flegretha peered in and saw Val’ha smile as she prepared a meal; Eedebee was speaking and throwing a key into the air, catching it and scaring a fat orange cat that scampered off one of two beds.
Flegretha gave a strong knock upon their lodging door. "Have you seen him?" she asked them desperately. "Have you seen my elfling Tarnac?" After a time she settled and took a draught from her wine flagon before proceeding with her story. "He is gone since almost our return from the Dragon island." By another hour’s passing Flegretha agreed that she should occupy places familiar to them for Tarnac’s return, and they saw her off after she finished her wine, thanking them for their direction and friendship many times over.
She reached home and heard the pounding and hammering of her hard-working laborers, Xorus’ opaline fog now lightly blanketing every block of the city, and no word of Tarnac from anyone she had asked, and decided several things: round up Fess and the other workers as soon as possible, for with or without Tarnac, Moncrovia was being consumed by Xorus’ evil; take her crews and their families to safe haven in Denlineil; and, after she told Tarnac’s family in Denlineil that he was missing, bring the Dwarfkeep around the kingdom to the northwest forest and find him herself.
Flegretha told Fess to send the smithery workers home to gather their belongings, troths and children and meet at the Dwarfkeep by nightfall, then packed her provisions and left notes all over their home, his merchantry and her smithery that she was taking the Dwarfkeep to Denlineil and to meet her there, making one extra note to tack onto the Bugbear for Eedebee and Val’ha. On the way to the port she zigzagged across Moncrovia to the lodgings of her shipmates, all frantic from the quakes, the fog and Xorus’ essence in the air and ever-growing in their dreams; they were relieved and thrilled to see their captain and to the one, Faielves, Short Elves, Dwarves and half-Dwarves accepted her proposal of exodus.
By Terr’Sol’s descent from the sky Flegretha was checking her ship’s riggings in the misty, empty harbor. Many of the Dwarfkeep’s crew had packed on the spot and followed her and were now busy preparing for departure or assembling their broods in the limited space of the vessel’s cabins. At Flegretha’s last count both crews were accounted for but Fess. He arrived at nightfall escorting three short cloaked figures, one hobbling more slowly than the others toward the plank. They did not look familiar to Flegretha as she went to greet them. "Ahoy, Fess! I did not know you had family in this city!"
"Ahoy, Captain Flegretha!" Two of Fess’ three companions carried their own packs; he boarded the Dwarfkeep with them and dropped his own pack and that of the slowest member as the three surprise guests lined up and two removed their hoods.
"St. Filips of the Dwarves!" Flegretha exclaimed. "I…I had not…I…"
"Lady Flegretha, these are the brothers Gnome," said Fess of the two roly-poly, close-shaven Short Dwarves, their pointed hats poking up when they removed their cowls.
The Gnome brothers bowed until their noses almost touched their feet and they said together, "Mercy, thanks, captain, bless," before scurrying down-hatch and Flegretha could react or object.
"Forgive me, Lady Flegretha," said Fess, "these are friends from where I lodge, and I could not let them stay here."
"It will be tight as warped wood at any rate, my dear elfling. Who is your other…oh, my!" Flegretha bowed this time, for the green-dressed, clover-smelling Leprechaun who faced her was exceedingly old, well more than three hundred years at least, and part of a race thought long gone by most.
"This is she we call Grandmother," said Fess as she nodded to her host.
"Welcome, welcome." Flegretha tried not to stare too much at the Leprechaun while she tottered toward her accommodations with Fess. Suddenly the memory of the note she had written to leave on the Bugbear entered Flegretha’s mind and she took it from her pocket. "I will be but a minute," she said to her crew, and made toward Eedebee’s Elf-ship.
When she had fastened the note to the vessel’s rigging and was making her way back, someone whispered her name loudly; Flegretha’s hand went to her knife and she exercised caution, for the silhouetted figure under the tree where Dragonslayer had been was not Val’ha’s horse but another, along with a swordbearing Man. She nearly pulled her weapon until the Man stepped from beneath the shadow. "Sir Thoryn!"
"Lady Flegretha." There was concern and distress in Thoryn’s tone and face, and he looked as though he had been in a fight. "I raced as fast as I could from the castle, but I cannot find Eedebee or Val’ha – do you know where they have gone?"
"I do not, honestly, dear knight, but what has befallen you?" With that Thoryn told of how he was in his chamber when Prince Joel’s guards accused him of complicity in the murders of King Joel’s High Advisor and the High Wizarder’s assistant, Lady Frippe, throwing him into the dungeon where the Baron Val Tress lay bruised and tied up. "From what I gathered from the Baron and the guards," Thoryn said, "our King and Queen are also in danger, but I must admit I do not have any idea what is happening at Castle Moncrovia. I was pondering this with the Baron when to my astonishment I vanished from our prison and in the next second was in the royal stables atop my horse with my sword at my side!"
"Great fright!" Flegretha cried. "Just as the city collapses, so too does the kingdom itself!" She told him of her plans.
Without invitation, Thoryn slapped his mount’s bare haunch and sent him away. "I throw myself at your discretion, Captain Flegretha, and request safe passage from here, for I cannot wait any longer to depart nor can I hope to find any other to assist me."
"It will be as packed as packed can be, but I cannot turn you away. Let us go now, Sir Thoryn – step lively!" Flegretha took Thoryn by the wrist and dragged him across to her ship. Several Short Elves were completing their adjustments to the rigging, and as soon as their captain was aboard, they lifted sail and maneuvered out of Moncrovia to the safety of Denlineil.
