by M D Baker
My arrival at the palace was nothing like I expected. In contrast to most of my previous visits, the guards responded warmly when Griff mentioned my name at the gates. The best I usually could expect was a casual indifference, and there were even traces of hostility on occasion, but orders had apparently been passed down that this particular trip merited a somewhat better reception. I’d assumed that we’d be guided to some little-used meeting room or one of the lower-level guest chambers, but instead, our escort brought us to the palace’s highest floors, where we were instructed to wait in the antechamber of a massive suite.
“Lord Tayson will see you now.”
I barely had a moment to take in the plush accommodations before the attendant returned, much to my surprise. The Cyndhari dog hadn’t bothered to repay the insult I’d given him the day before.
Griff remained behind as I followed the servant into the adjoining chamber where Lord Tayson was waiting. As the man left, he shut the door, leaving me alone with the Cyndhari envoy.
“Welcome, Countess.” Tayson rose from his chair when I entered the room, his attempt at a cordial greeting overshadowed by his bloodred overcoat with shiny gold trim—the hated colors of my enemy. “I hope you will forgive me for my oversight yesterday. The course of our discussion went a bit differently than I’d expected. It was not my intention to offend you.”
Although he might have recognized the error on his own, the reference to his failure to offer terms of compensation was probably a misstep, letting me know just how closely the Sorceress-Advisor was working with the Cyndhari envoy. Such coordination between the two realms was practically unheard of, warning me that I’d been drawn into something far more disturbing than I’d imagined. While I had no way of divining the full extent or even the true purpose of the game that was being played, I recognized the critical role I’d been assigned—as well as the incredible opportunity it presented.
“And yet you have,” I replied coolly, playing the hand I’d been dealt to the best of my abilities as I took the seat opposite my adversary.
His pleasant smile reminded me of a lurking crocodile waiting for me to wander into deeper waters.
“Then let us make amends. Tea?” The envoy inquired as he poured himself a cup of steaming liquid, returning to his seat only after I’d shaken off the polite overture.
With a slight flourish, Tayson ambushed me much as I had the King’s messenger, producing a sheet of parchment before slipping it across the surface of the desk between us. Looking askance at the document, I let it lay there for a moment before deigning to pick it up. I had no doubt that the conditions outlined would be for the sole benefit of the Cyndhari, so its striking terms left me nearly speechless.
Stilling my features while re-reading the contract several times allowed me the few minutes I needed to compose myself. The ludicrous compensation Tayson offered wasn’t counted in silver—gold was the preferred denomination for sums that ran so high. The fortune would secure my household for… decades, perhaps even longer if managed with care. Yet his benevolence went far beyond the issue of money.
Rigid codes of conduct were expected of a sworn enemy that was allowed to enter foreign territory. A prohibition against carrying weapons and absolute accountability for any acts of violence were commonly imposed under such circumstances. Rather than those requirements, however, the contract expressly permitted me to enter Cyndhar fully armed and also offered total immunity should I feel the need to defend myself. Even that broad statement hadn’t been strictly defined; it left me completely free to strike out against literally anything I found threatening—a liberty that I wasn’t allowed even in my own country.
The uncharacteristic generosity didn’t end there. An iron-clad liability clause also provided for a rather hefty fine if I were injured, and an almost prohibitively expensive penalty should I have the misfortune of dying while under Cyndhar’s protection. Though I certainly wouldn’t be seeking out my demise, the gaudy sum was enough for me to briefly toy with the idea of allowing myself to be wounded in combat.
“These terms are acceptable for myself,” I responded flatly, barely restraining my desire to jump up and down with glee. “But they make no provisions for my guard, Griff, who will be accompanying me.”
“He’s in your employ, so the man’s pay will be your responsibility,” Tayson replied without missing a beat. “But his treatment will also fall within the same guidelines.”
“Then, I accept.” I allowed myself a half-smirk of satisfaction as I reached for the quill on Tayson’s desk.
“A note of caution before you do, Countess.” I detected a slight waver in the envoy’s voice as he spoke. “Despite what the terms may suggest, you will not be permitted to slaughter my people without consequence. While you have the right to protect yourself, any unreasonable actions will result in your expulsion from our territory.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” A single drop of black ink fell from the tip of my pen when I paused.
“Although the contract insulates you from harm, I will be held accountable for any… misdeeds you might commit while in Cyndhar,” Tayson revealed, swallowing a lump of apprehension as he leaned back into his chair.
This just keeps getting better, I thought to myself, smiling broadly as I scratched my signature across the bottom of the page.
“I can be packed fairly quickly,” I left the grin plastered on my face as I replied, already tallying up the various garments and equipment I’d require for the journey. “When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow morning, if that’s not too soon.” He shifted slightly under my gaze, giving away his growing discomfort.
“I shall await your arrival at my estate,” I replied, rising from my chair and gliding out of the room without so much as a nod in Tayson’s direction.
With the flash of our prearranged signal, I responded to Griff’s inquisitive stare when I entered the antechamber, letting him know that all had gone well without the need to exchange any words that might be overheard. Combining some of his military training with Valda’s lessons had enabled me to avoid many of the pitfalls others had stumbled into. We maintained our silence until returning to my estate, where I informed the Guard-Captain of the arrangements that had been made.
Griff expressed his doubts openly, scoffing at the concept of a benevolent Cyndhar. “I don’t like it, my Lady. It’s too good to be true.”
I couldn’t bring myself to disagree. “That it is, but I’m in no position to object.”
“We should bring the rest of my men,” he responded, knowing enough about my precarious economic circumstances to understand at least that part of the reason why I’d been forced to give in.
“No,” I sighed. “Our safety isn’t a concern, and they’re all I have to secure things here.”
It wasn’t as if crime ran rampant through the streets of Oldbridge, but an unguarded estate would eventually draw attention. The kind that might even spell danger for Jaine and Helred if I was careless enough to leave them without protection.
“Then I’ll take my leave and make ready, Countess,” Griff replied, ever formal as always.
Following his lead, I ventured upstairs to my rooms, packing away several changes of clothes and a few additional odds and ends for the road. Laying out one of my riding outfits beside my thin leather armor would make my morning preparations all the easier, and I took a moment to consider my choice of weaponry from the small armory I kept close at hand.
My sword and daggers were a must, if only for the obvious display they provided. Although there was no way to conceal them on the road, I tucked a pair of lighter blades I often hid beneath my skirts into my pack as well. After waffling back and forth for a while, I left my bow and quiver behind; I just couldn’t imagine a scenario where magic wouldn’t serve me better. My staff was the last weapon I chose to bring. The sharp spearpoint camouflaged beneath its intricate head provided a deadly surprise for anyone who was foolish enough to attack me.
Whi
le I expected Tayson to bring along any food and furnishings our journey might require, I wasn’t prepared to rely upon the Cyndhari bastard. I ventured down to the kitchen once my gear had been seen to, both to bid Jaine and Helred farewell and ask one last favor of them. I kept both their duties light, and as usual, the two were spending their time together preparing dinner for our entire household. The aroma of something truly tempting drifted from a pot slowly simmering on the stove when they noted my arrival.
“Evening, my Lady,” Helred offered, pausing her stirring to offer the greeting while Jaine inclined her head slightly as she kneaded a ball of dough.
“Sorry to ask this at the last minute, but Griff and I will be going away in the morning,” I informed them. “We’ll need some food for the road.”
“Will you be gone long?” Jaine lifted her arm as she continued working, wiping at the sweat forming on her brow with the shoulder of her blouse.
I gave her the best answer I could.
“Only a few weeks, I hope, but perhaps a bit more than that.”
“That long?” Jaine inquired, halting her work to look at me questioningly.
It wouldn’t be the first time I’d gone off on some errand, though it had been quite a while since my last foray. Once I’d given up on my efforts to reignite the war with Cyndhar, there’d been little reason for me to venture beyond the safety of capital.
“I’m headed to Blackwood Keep,” I relented, and the spoon slipped from Helred’s fingers as she sucked in a sharp breath.
“Why?” Jaine asked, her voice filling with eager anticipation. “Has the King finally won back your lands?”
“No.” I smirked, not fearing to share my true feelings with either of them. “He’s only pawned my services off to Cyndhar in some attempt to earn their favor, it seems.”
“Can’t you refuse, dear?” Helred inquired, lapsing into the more familiar form of address.
I shook my head, seeing the genuine concern in her eyes. “I’m afraid not. Doing so would risk what little standing I have left.”
“But what if…” Jaine stopped herself before she could finish the unpleasant yet obvious thought.
“Assurances have been given,” I responded to her concern. “The only difficulty will be having to endure the Cyndhari themselves.”
“You’ll be in charge during my absence, Helred,” I said softly, bringing the uncomfortable conversation to an end. “The only thing I ask is that you don’t allow your daughter to marry while I’m away.”
Jaine suddenly became extremely intent on the lump of dough in front of her as she tried to hide her reddened cheeks, while Helred smiled at my little jab. It seemed we were all a bit anxious for the proposal to finally come, though the farrier’s apprentice continued to draw things out for some unknown reason.
“I dare say I just might, my Lady,” Helred replied, flashing a sly grin as she prodded at Jaine with one thin finger. “Gods know the lad’s been keeping her waiting long enough.”
Chapter 9
My entire household gathered together for breakfast the next morning—an infrequent occurrence, but unusual circumstances prompted the uncommon event. Although they wouldn’t be joining us, Stephin, Bronson, Jak, and Oswolt stood beside their Guard-Captain when we ventured outside to await Tayson’s arrival, both to see us off and as a display of solidarity against the Cyndhari. Helred and Jaine sat on either side of me on a small bench in the front courtyard, both of them remaining silent while I juggled a handful of stones with Push.
The clip-clop of hooves and jangle of rustling metal soon echoed through the still morning air, and I rose to glance down the street, expecting to see the small group of Cyndhari soldiers as they approached. Though a full dozen of my enemies rode beside Tayson in their vile red uniforms, the four horsemen at the head of the column were adorned in the bright green of Farren with the emblem of the King’s personal guard emblazoned across their chests.
“Not in my worst nightmare…” Helred observed the procession, giving voice to the very same thought that had crossed my mind.
“Be careful, Amarrah.” Jaine leaned close, clutching my arm as she whispered in my ear, “There’s more to this than you suspect.”
“Obviously,” I replied dryly as I stood and made my way to the front gate.
“Good morning, Countess.” Tayson was all smiles once more, apparently reveling in the subservient role he’d forced upon both Farren and me.
“If you will allow my Guard-Captain a moment to fetch our mounts, we can be off,” I responded, sparing only a brief glance at the man as he presided over our humiliation.
“Your transportation is covered under our agreement,” he replied, staving off Griff’s departure as he waved a pair of his men forward.
A beautiful buckskin mare was brought to a halt in front of me, while a chestnut gelding stomped its hoof before Griff. Both steeds were much finer than the two waiting in my stable, yet I grit my teeth at the continued display of generosity. Tayson seemed to delight in flaunting both his wealth and power, taking every opportunity to rub my face in the nearly impoverished state the war had left me in.
“I’ll go get our saddlebags, my Lady.” Griff’s clipped tone told me he read the situation just as I had.
Studiously ignoring Tayson and his band of murderous thugs, I pulled myself into the saddle to await Griff’s return. After tying our extra baggage in place and climbing aboard his mount, we began our journey towards the city gates the moment the Guard-Captain signaled his readiness.
The steady canter of metal horseshoes ringing against the cobblestone byways provided a welcome diversion as I glanced at the shops and homes passing by. While many faces looked on with stunned expressions at the strange procession, more than a few glared at us in open hostility, and I began to see the wisdom in providing a strong Farren escort for the Cyndhari soldiers, something that went beyond my initial concerns. Nothing good would come of having the entourage assaulted within the walls of Oldbridge; avoiding a confrontation was in both our interests.
We were soon beyond the city’s confines and out in the countryside, though the King’s men remained with us. While nothing had been said, after noting the large bundles tied to their saddles, it became clear that our escort would likely remain with us all the way to the border. I found some comfort in knowing that I’d share at least that much of my journey with them, putting off the time I’d spend in the exclusive company of the Cyndhari for a little bit longer.
It had been some time since I’d ventured away from my estate, and as Oldbridge faded into the distance, the familiar taste of its particular blend of magic dwindled away. Out in the open plains, strong notes of Earth replaced the overwhelming presence of Life that dominated the city’s energy, while the remaining elements mingled together almost equally in the background.
“Up until this very moment, I wasn’t quite sure you’d actually come along, Countess.” Tayson sidled up alongside, interrupting my thoughts as we crossed a wide field dotted with yellow wildflowers.
“That makes two of us,” I lied in return.
“I appreciate how uncomfortable this arrangement is,” he went on as if I hadn’t spoken, his voice filling with false sympathy. “When I came to Farren seeking aid, I wasn’t sure who I’d find. Despite the circumstances, I must say that I was… pleased to discover your connection to The Blackwood.”
“I’m overjoyed to hear that my torment makes you happy, my Lord,” I pinned my eyes straight forward as I replied. “I’ll make sure to summon you if I feel the need to shed a few tears.”
“I’ve offended you again.” The envoy managed a passable impersonation of disappointment. “You have my apologies, Countess. That was not my intention. I only meant to convey my hope that our efforts will meet with swift success.”
“Believe me, Tayson, I have no desire to drag this out any longer than necessary,” I responded, spurring my horse forward to escape the insufferable man.
“Bit of a fool, that one
,” Griff commented brusquely when he caught up with me again.
“Careless with his words, perhaps, but he’s no idiot,” I grumbled, reluctant to surrender even the faint hint of praise. “That man managed to back both the King and me into a corner neither of us could escape from.”
The Guard-Captain absently stroked the well-worn hilt of his sword. “Do you think he could be dangerous, my Lady?”
“I’ve no doubt that he is,” I answered, having already reached that conclusion. “The only question is whether the risk is to me or all of Farren.”
Dispatching the last remaining true heir to Blackwood Keep would eliminate the only source of opposition to Cyndhar’s continued occupation of those lands. While there were other counties still under their control, my death would send a clear message, likely casting a pall over the few words of retribution that were still being whispered in Oldbridge. Killing me would subdue the heirs of the other districts, putting an end to our insurgency with a single, elegant stroke.
Even knowing the threat, I’d been left with no choice but to submit—Tayson’s maneuvering ensured that my defiance would’ve come at a cost that was too steep to bear. Ironically, I preferred death over a life of continued disgrace and dishonor. Spending the rest of my days without any hope of retribution held little appeal.
“You’ve a plan?” Griff inquired, leaning closer as he shifted in his saddle.
“Only to keep my eyes and ears open at all times,” I replied, shaking my head at the poor choices I’d been left with. “And to flee at the first opportunity if my concerns are proven correct.”
He nodded in understanding. “Soldiers’ tongues often wag, my Lady. I’ll be listening as well.”
Knowing that eavesdropping was a double-edged sword, we spoke no further of the matter, passing the rest of the day exchanging nothing more significant than a few idle observations about the villages we rode through. After his earlier misstep, the Cyndhari Lord thankfully kept his distance as well, sparing me from any more of his ‘accidental’ insults, and I was able to spend the remainder of the afternoon without the pleasure of his company. Instead, I had the joy of enduring the scorn of his soldiers. Their furtive glances and softly muttered curses of ‘witch’ provided a constant reminder of how Cyndhar viewed the sorceresses of Farren.