Ancient Magic

by Blink, Bob

  Deciding she had heard enough, Queen Usaya pushed back from the small viewing hole and covered it with the piece of leather that made the spot invisible from the inside. She walked carefully in the near dark until she turned the corner where she had set down her candle before moving to the viewing port. She bent and picked it up, then looked around to be certain she had her bearings. It had been a very long time since she had come this far in the hidden tunnels, and while she should be able to find her way back even in complete darkness, she felt reassured to have the light back in her hands. Slowly she moved forward, navigating the narrow passageway until she returned to the large quarters she shared with the King. Finding the hidden latch, she opened the small door that allowed her inside, then secured the private door from within. No one would be able to enter that way now. The secret entrance was for the benefit of her and the King, and neither wanted someone else to be able to slip into their quarters by the secret door. Neither was foolish enough to believe that no one else knew of the passages, and they never discussed anything of grave importance in this room. There was an adjacent room which they knew to be secure from viewing where such discussions were held.

  The quarters she had entered were more than a bedroom. The large area comprised several rooms, which in addition to the royal bedroom they had a dining area, a large living space where guests could be greeted, and a second small room where a second bedroom existed. It had served as a nursery when the children were very young.

  Without hesitating, the Queen walked across the room and stepped out of the quarters into the stone passageway. The two guards on duty stiffened as she stepped into view. Someone was always on duty now. They followed respectfully a short distance behind her as she marched down the hallway toward the sick rooms where her family members were being cared for. The rooms were close to where she’d been observing the healers. The ill were being cared for in the special sick rooms which were close to everything that might be needed to ensure their recovery. She spent a few minutes with each, noting the nervous faces of the female attendants who had no choice but to wait in the rooms hour after hour in case a change in status or request from the dying needed to be brought to the immediate attention of the healers. It was obvious that the young women were resigned to contracting the dread illness and dying in the same manner themselves.

  There was no change, not that she expected improvement any longer. Her daughter appeared to be a little better. Perhaps because she was younger and stronger. There was hope there. But she agreed with the healers. It was only a matter of time before her husband passed. That left her a lot to do. Once he was gone, she would have little control how matters progressed. Women did not decide the direction of the country. The fact she had any power at all was because the King still lived and the people cared for him and wouldn’t go against his wife while they believed there was a chance he might recover. That belief was ill placed.

  The guards followed as she made her way to the chambers where the King normally made his rulings and oversaw the running of Branid. Those she passed averted their faces, not wanting to let their fear be seen by the Queen. Even the soldiers were uncomfortable, as word of the King’s failing status leaked out and spread rapidly. With the King ill, this part of the castle was far quieter than she could ever remember. Her footsteps echoed as she made her way down the wide and ornately decorated stone passageway. This was where dignitaries and visitors were normally greeted by the King, and it was grander than other areas of the castle for that reason. When they reached the office, she pulled the large bronze key from her pocket and opened the door.

  “Wait out here,” she commanded the guards.

  She closed the door behind her and sat at the massive desk near the window. She had written King Arotho of Kellmore earlier in the week describing what had befallen her husband. It was likely that message had only been recently received, having been sent by the birds they used for rapid communication. Now she felt she owed the man another. Her husband was not going to survive, and he should be prepared for the worst. Hopefully the treaties the two men had agreed to would remain in force, but unless she kept the man informed there would be no chance. She penned the message on the thin material used for the birds, then went to the door and ordered one of the guards to bring the birdmaster to her.

  While she waited she considered the situation. Rhory was meant to become King in the event her husband died. His situation wasn’t known at the moment, although the force led by his friend Commander Loum should be joining up with the Prince within a day or two if it hadn’t already happened. That would provide a sufficiently large and strong force that he should have no trouble making his way back to Sulen. Neither Rhory nor Loum knew of the current predicament, but the King had sent Loum with specific instructions that Rhory was to return immediately and not consider further adventures just because his forces had regained their full robustness. Within a month her stepson could be back and in a position to assume the responsibilities as leader.

  And what if the King died before Rhory could return? She mused. Her ability to directly control events would be lost. Rhog was here and she supposed that he would assume control as temporary leader. She wasn’t happy about that. Rhog wasn’t Rhory, and she had misgivings about Rhory’s twin, even if she couldn’t specifically voice what bothered her. She assumed that Rhog would stand aside as had been intended once Rhory returned, but she was aware that once one had the power of being King, some were reluctant to let it go. And what if something happened to Rhory before he was able to return? That would leave Rhog in control, something she wasn’t comfortable with at all. She shook her head. She had no say over what would happen. The King would be unlikely to see the week out and Rhory wouldn’t be back for weeks. That meant Rhog was going to be surrogate King for a while. She’d just have to try and guide him subtly.

  Rhog’s frustration showed as he stormed down the hallways as he headed to the stable where he would pick up his horse. Supposedly he was headed to the temple to appeal to Risos to spare his father, something that he actually wished for at the moment. With Rhory’s fate unknown, but supposedly secure and soon to be assured by the reinforcements that would be joining up with him, Rhog didn’t want to see his father die and Rhory announced King. That would make his own plans ever so much more difficult. In fact, however, he was headed to meet with Bishop Orano, who wanted to be kept current on the situation at the castle. Rhog was certain the man had spies who were telling him everything, but the Bishop saw this as a chance to exert control over Rhog, and he took every advantage. Rhog also realized that the Queen wasn’t keen on his being in control. He refused to think of her as mother since she had come into the castle after his true mother had died, and for that matter after the King’s second wife had passed. Already she had demonstrated that she hoped to be able to manipulate him if he took over in a temporary status. She would learn how ineffective her efforts would be once he was in control.

  “He won’t make it through the week,” Rhog told Orano once they were alone in the Bishop’s quarters. “I talked with his healer who finally agreed to be blunt with me. I think he fears what might happen once I assume control if he didn’t tell me.”

  “This situation is unfortunate,” Orano mused out loud. “With Rhory still alive, at least as far as we know, it would be better if your father were to survive. Rhory causes many within the Order distress, and already there are rumblings about what it would mean to have him as King. Clearly there are those who would see your devotion to Risos preferable. Unfortunately the Cardinal has directed that the Order will follow the rules of succession, and that all will support your brother.”

  “You have no news from your Priest traveling with my brother?”

  “There has been no news for almost two weeks now. Like the Queen, we are in the dark about where your brother is and whether he has yet joined with Commander Loum. Perhaps our special mercenaries have been successful and that is the reason for the silence. I suspect that is unlikely give
n the timing, and if Prince Rhory has joined with Loum the chances of our being successful are small.”

  “He’s going to come back unharmed, isn’t he?”

  Orano fidgeted. “Despite our best efforts, it is beginning to appear likely.”

  “What can we do?”

  “We’ll have to keep hoping and start working on an alternate plan. Meanwhile, you need to consider making some changes.”

  “What kind of changes?” Rhog asked.

  “Well, for one, you should get married.”

  “Married. Why?”

  “You are viewed as erratic and potentially unfit to rule by many of the nobles. While the rules of succession would point to you should your brother fall, either before or after the passing of your unfortunate father, the laws also provide for the Nobles to call into session a vote to chose a new King. They could, if they have enough unity, elect someone else to take the throne. That would be even easier if they had the support of the people, and at the moment you aren’t viewed with the same universal approval as Rhory. I doubt an attempt to vote for a new King over him would have a chance. Not so yourself. Getting married would gather support behind you and show you were considering a more stable and appropriate lifestyle.”

  “Well, I’ve been linked with Ikaly for some time. I hadn’t been thinking along those lines…”

  Orano was already shaking his head. “Not her. The woman has a reputation you want to divorce yourself from. Just because she excels at … . at satisfying certain of your more unusual preferences, doesn’t mean she would be a proper wife for a monarch. I was thinking more along the lines of someone like Lord Sooz’s daughter.”

  “Inge?” Rhog said. That was a surprise. He’d met her several times on her infrequent visits to Sulen. He’d long wanted to get under the woman’s skirts but she’d always refused and had shown no interest in him. It was a surprise that Orano had chosen her. “Why Inge?”

  “Her family is well positioned to earn you support that would be needed. They don’t live here in Sulen, which gives them a certain protection from the court and some of the issues at hand. Also, she is good looking and has a proper reputation.”

  “I’m fairly certain she wouldn’t be interested. She has made it clear in the past that she doesn’t like me.”

  “That probably wouldn’t be a barrier,” Orano said. “If it’s a matter of becoming queen, her parents would overrule any objections she might have. While she might not like you, she would have little choice but to submit. You, of course, could have any number of mistresses on the side.”

  Rhog grinned. He thought of what it would be like to have Inge under his control, where she would have no choice but to submit to whatever he told her to do. The more he thought about it, the better he liked it. “How do we make that happen?” he asked.

  “Let me work on it,” Bishop Orano suggested. “I think I know how to approach her parents.”

  “That still leaves Rhory,” Rhog complained.

  “There is little we can do until we learn more. Once he is back we will have to see what might be done. There is still the off chance that something has befallen him and we don’t know about it.

  Duke Cordale raised the flagon of cool ale to his lips and took a deep draught. He liked the bitter aftertaste, and savored it as he lowered the stein to the table. They were in a back room of an establishment he trusted, mostly because he owned it and everyone here worked for him.

  “A couple more days at best?” he asked, mostly because he wanted to hear the words again.

  “That’s what is being said around the castle,” his informant replied. The informant knew nothing about the Duke’s involvement in what had befallen the King, but like the other noblemen around Sulen, the Duke paid handsomely for information about the progression of the illness. Knowledge was power, and more than one of the nobles saw the sudden illness as an opportunity. What they didn’t know is how much support the Duke had arranged through bribery and blackmail, and how any vote was certain to turn out.

  “Has anyone else become ill?” the Duke asked. The old woman had assured him that the illness would not spread, but he wanted to be certain.

  “Just the daughter. The Queen has remained untouched. Risos smiles upon her. Despite daily contact, she has not become infected.”

  That was a good sign. Cordale also knew that none of the healers had become ill either. The five people most likely to catch the horrid disease had escaped. The Duke was also certain that nothing would ever be traced back to him. The only chance of a problem would have been at the time the poison was administered, and that had gone smoothly and undetected. Now the connection to the poisoner was lost. He’d also had one link in the chain of people who had transported the poison eliminated, just as an extra precaution. That meant that other than himself and Roit, who was far too valuable to lose, especially if he’d been successful in Lopal, only the old woman would have any idea what had really happened. He’d considered having the old woman eliminated, but for some reason hesitated. Some people you simply didn’t mess with, and she was one of them. It bothered him that he was so uncomfortable with her, but he’d let the situation stand for now. The only wrinkle was Prince Rhory. Until he heard from Roit, he had to worry about his possible return. That would ruin everything. The other prince was not a problem.

  The Duke slid a couple of gold coins across to the informant, who grinned and quickly pocketed them. Then he quietly slipped away.

  The Duke took another long pull at the ale. Soon, he thought. Soon it would all be his.

  Queen Usaya realized that there was only one explanation. Princess Mydra had fled. She had been difficult to find of late, and now no one had seen her in two days. A check of her rooms showed that certain items had been taken. It was pretty obvious that the items removed were not the result of theft but a careful selection by the Princess herself. Mydra had not been happy for some time, and now given the illness and the importance of maintaining the agreements with Kellmore had probably felt the likelihood she might be shipped off to Kellmore had increased. The Queen wondered where she might have gone. More than likely to stay with the lover responsible for her baby. They hadn’t found out who that was as yet, and the Queen simply didn’t have time to focus on the matter now.

  “My Lady,” Kristi said hesitantly, standing off to one side after coming into the room.

  The Queen looked at her, and then realization dawned. Kristi was supposed to stay close to her daughter. “No! Nooooo. It cannot be,” the Queen moaned.

  Kristi lowered her head and nodded tears running down her face.

  Without another word the Queen hurried out of the room and headed toward the healer’s room where Hegha had been bedridden. Everyone stood back when they saw her coming. Word was already spreading.

  She stormed into the room where two of the healers were just covering the body. The Queen threw back the covering from the face, and saw for herself that her daughter was no longer breathing.

  “She wasn’t that bad,” the Queen objected.

  “It happened suddenly,” one of the healers said uncomfortably. “She simply stopped breathing.”

  The Queen dropped to her knees next to the bed and sobbed. The healers were about to leave her to her sorrow when another of their group stepped into the room.

  “The King is dead,” he said solemnly.

  Usaya looked at the messenger through teary eyes. Risos had chosen to ignore her pleas.

  Chapter 48

  “No one suspects?” Kellmore’s King Arotho asked when his trusted advisor reported back shortly after returning from the eastern border of the land.

  “It went exactly as you wished, your Lordship,” the man replied. He was tired and dirty from long days in the saddle, but was pleased to have accomplished the task that his King had set for him. “Awll is safely tucked away at the hunting retreat in the mountains south of Pagner.”

  The King nodded solemnly. It had worked as he’d hoped. Each half of the force th
at his son had ridden off with thought the Prince was currently with the other. Trained military men would actually lead the effort, while the Prince sat out the coming months safely hidden away. The only issue would be keeping the lad occupied so that he didn’t insist on returning to the capital.

  The people were very pleased with the announcement several weeks ago that the prince was formally engaged to Princess Mydra of Branid. The planned joining was looked upon as an assurance and building of friendship at a time when the future was starting to look grim. Having Kellmore aligned with its neighbor to the north was reassuring to the people of his country. Of course, given the recent news, he wondered if any of it meant anything any longer.

  “That was well done,” the King said finally. “You appear weary from your travels. We can talk at length tomorrow when I would like to plan what we can do to keep the prince content.”

  The advisor bowed deeply, then turned and took his leave, happy to be able to escape after such a short time. The truth was he was bone tired. He’d not ridden so long in many years, and he was getting too old for such adventures.