"That is correct," nodded Audric, "but the Talent did not destroy the poisons, did it?"
"No," answered Jared. "The poisons were merely transferred to me. Why are you not having convulsions?"
"I ate leaves that counteract the poison," answered Audric. "It would hardly do for us to keep passing it back and forth. What else have we learned?"
"That Jared would forfeit his life to save mine," declared Prince Antion.
"Good," Audric nodded vigorously. "And you were willing to risk your life for his benefit as well. You both have come to understand how very important each of you is. That was a necessary thing for both of you to learn. Without each other, neither of you can do much to halt what is coming."
"What about you?" asked Jared. "You used evil intent when you gave the berries to Prince Antion. How will you ever return to equilibrium?"
"I never left equilibrium," smiled Audric. "I did not use the Talent with evil intent. One can have evil intent all day long as long as one does not use the Talent to achieve one's goals. I didn't use the Talent on Prince Antion. I gave him a bowl of berries and told him to eat them."
"So it is all right to be evil?" frowned Jared.
"Do not learn what I did not teach," Audric shook his head. "My evil intent did not affect my equilibrium because I did not use the Talent to achieve my goal, but that is not to say that being evil is all right. One should never seek to be evil."
"I am not sure of the real purpose of the lesson," frowned Prince Antion. "You did not poison me to show Jared that he can extract poison out of my body, so why did you do it?"
"You are perceptive, Prince Antion," grinned the old man. "Jared is as pure as the winter snow. As I have taught him this past half year, a budding concern has grown within me. I fear that Jared may take it upon himself to try to draw the dark side of the Talent out of others in an attempt to help them achieve equilibrium. He must never do that. As the demonstration with the poison shows, the dark Talent would invade his own body, and he would become that which he sought to cure. The difference is, there are no magic green leaves as an antidote for the Talent. You must remember this lesson all of your days, Jared. Never try to bring another to equilibrium. You will destroy yourself."
"I understand," nodded Prince Antion. "A powerful lesson it is. If you don't mind, though, I would prefer a less lethal one for tomorrow."
"No lesson is as important as this one," replied the old man. "I will never endanger your lives again."
"I will hold you to your word," frowned Jared.
"As you should," nodded Audric. "I saw you both earlier working in cooperation. I want you to know how proud I am of both of you. From the first day you arrived here, you both have given every moment to your studies. You have devoured my teaching at a pace that far surpasses any other students that I have ever had, including your mother, Jared."
"A great deal is riding on what we can learn," offered Prince Antion. "We would be fools to waste this opportunity."
"Quite true," agreed the old man, "but it still requires a great deal of devotion, and you have given it. Sadly, there is little more that I can teach you. By the time the leaves begin to fall, you will have learned all that I am capable of teaching. What will you do then?"
"I don't know," shrugged Prince Antion. "A lot will depend upon the state of the world when we finish. I must admit that I grow anxious not knowing what is going on outside this cove."
"I will want to visit my father," answered Jared. "You have shared much of my mother's time here, and my father's, and I yearn to see him again. I think I shall look at him differently now."
"In what way?" asked Audric.
"I have always loved my father," replied Jared, "but I guess I never knew him. I always suspected that he was a criminal of sorts, but I was always afraid to mention it for fear of hurting his feelings. Now I know the truth and it is quite different from what I believed. I want to tell him how much I love him and thank him for what he did for me. I only hope that I will find the words to express my feelings to him."
"Then it is settled," smiled Prince Antion. "We will return to Anatar when we are done here."
"Now that we have those thoughts out of the way," smiled Audric, "let's get back to our lessons. I still have much to teach both of you."
"We are ready to learn," offered Jared.
"I want to talk about sensing the Talent," Audric began. "As you have become more attuned to the Talent, you must have noticed your ability to sense when I am approaching. Is that correct?"
"I suppose it is," Jared nodded after a moment of thought. "I have not actually thought about that much, but now that you mention it, it does seem that I always know when you are around. Is the Talent supposed to work like that?"
"If you are strong in your ability," nodded Audric, "and you are strong. We are going to try an experiment. I want you to cover your eyes. Prince Antion and I are going to roam around the cove. I want you to call out each time you sense one of us. You are to estimate the direction and the distance as best you can."
Chapter 43 - The Officer
The Officer
The Empty Keg tavern in Anatar was popular with unskilled laborers. It was poorly lit, and the furnishings had seen better days, but the prices were among the lowest in the city. The clientele were usually a noisy lot, and empty seats were few on most nights. It was the tavern of choice for Galan.
Galan was not an unskilled laborer, nor was he a skilled laborer. In fact, Galan held no job at all, yet he always seemed to have money for ale. The truth was that Galan was a thief. He made his living by taking from others and spending it on himself. Still, he was a popular regular at the Empty Keg as he always had a few coins to spend on those who were down on their luck.
On this particular summer night, Galan's table was full, and his friends were making quite a bit of noise when the door opened and a stranger walked in. The stranger stood in the doorway for a moment as his eyes scanned the room and then he walked directly to Galan's table. The stranger tossed a silver coin on the table in front of Galan, and everyone looked up to see whom the coin belonged to.
"You were kind to me the last time I came through town," smiled the stranger. "I said I would return someday to repay your kindness. Here I am."
Galan looked confused for a moment, but he quickly hid the fact that he had never seen the stranger before in his life.
"Ah, yes," grinned Galan as he stood up and picked up the coin. "I remember you well. It's been a long time. I really would like to find out what you've been up to since you left."
Galan elbowed his way past the rest of the men on the bench until he got to the end of the table. With everyone's eyes on him, he tossed the silver coin back on the table.
"Why don't you gents have a few rounds on me," Galan grinned. "I'm going outside for a bit to talk to my old friend."
The men at the table hooted and hollered as they called for more ale. Galan nodded towards the rear door of the tavern, and the stranger followed him. They exited the tavern together, and closing the door muffled the noise from the common room.
"Who are you, and what do you want?" Galan asked cautiously.
"I want to give you some gold," answered the stranger. "Where can we talk?"
"You aren't the one that I am used to talking to," Galan frowned suspiciously.
"My gold comes from the same purse," shrugged the stranger. "Have you grown wealthy in only a few weeks?"
"I need to be cautious," Galan declared. "I don't know you."
"Nor did you know the other one, either," chuckled the stranger. "In fact, you never saw his face."
"How do you know that?" asked Galan.
"We work together," declared the stranger. "Are we going to stand here all night and discuss this, or should I take my gold elsewhere?"
"We can talk here," Galan stated. "What do you want?"
"I want a high ranking officer in the Arin army," smiled the stranger. "One who is high enough to roam the palace without be
ing questioned, but not so high that he will be bothered by subordinates."
"You want me to kill an officer?" gasped Galan. "You don't have enough gold for that."
"I did not ask you to kill anyone," scowled the stranger. "I just want to meet him alone. I have a room at the Palace Shadow. I want you to send him there. It is at the top of the stairs, last door on the right."
"You want to meet a high officer in your room?" Galan shook his head with skepticism, "but you don't really care which one?"
"That is correct," the stranger said as he withdrew a pouch of gold from under his tunic and held it up in front of Galan. "It is worth a great deal to me, but only if it is done properly."
"What's proper?" asked Galan as his eyes focused on the pouch trying to determine its weight.
"The officer is not to have a chance to tell anyone where he is going," instructed the stranger, "and he must come alone. I don't care what you tell him to get him to come, but if these conditions are not followed, you will forfeit your life."
Galan opened his mouth to protest, but the stranger pushed the pouch of gold into his chest. Galan grabbed the pouch and hefted it. His eyebrows rose and a smile spread across his face. He opened the pouch and took out a coin and looked at it.
"It's all gold," smiled the stranger. "I have strict demands for those who serve me, but I always pay well. Can you deliver?"
"Count on it," Galan nodded eagerly. "I will have him there within the hour."
"Do not rush it," warned the stranger. "I want all conditions met. If it takes all night, the gold is still yours. If he has not arrived by morning, we will meet and discuss an extension for another day. Agreed?"
"Agreed," nodded Galan.
The stranger turned and walked away. He made his way to the Palace Shadow and entered his room. He sat in a chair by the window and gazed out at the street below and the gates of the palace. He was only watching for a few minutes when Galan appeared at the gates. He spoke briefly to the guards, and one of them left and entered the palace. The stranger wondered what story the thief would tell the officer to get him up to the room. It hardly mattered, but he was curious.
Galan waited nervously in front of the gates. He paced back and forth, and occasionally glanced up at the Palace Shadow, but the stranger was sure that he could not be seen from the street. Several minutes later the guard returned with an officer right behind him. The officer approached Galan to speak, but the thief waved him to one side so the guards could not overhear the conversation. As Galan talked, the officer became agitated and glanced at the inn. When the officer looked as if he might strike the thief, Galan backed up a few steps and shrugged with his hands out as if whatever they were talking about was out of his control.
The officer spun to approach the gates, but Galan swiftly danced in front of him. More words were exchanged and then the thief suddenly turned around and walked away. The officer stood silently for a moment as if weighing a heavy decision. He glanced once more at the Palace Shadow and then started marching towards it. The stranger smiled broadly.
A few moments later, a loud knock sounded on the stranger's door. The door had not been closed all the way and the force of the knock caused the door to swing open slightly. The officer looked in and saw the stranger sitting by the window.
"Sorry," the officer apologized. "I must have the wrong room."
"You have the right room," the stranger replied calmly. "I have been waiting for you. I am not sure what the thief told you to get you to come, but I would love to hear the story. Come in and close the door."
The officer frowned with suspicion. His hand hovered near the hilt of the sword, but the stranger showed no fear.
"Who are you?" asked the officer.
"Do you want me to announce it to the world?" asked the stranger. "Come in and close the door. I am unarmed and certainly no threat to a man such as yourself."
The officer cautiously entered the room and looked behind the door for any would be attackers. Seeing none, he closed the door, but he did not move away from it.
"I am sorry to be so mysterious with my invitation," smiled the stranger, "but a man in my profession must take certain precautions."
"And what profession would that be?" asked the officer.
"I am a spy," volunteered the stranger, "although I often pose as a Caprian bandit or a wagon warrior. Today I am a wagon warrior, which is why I could not approach the palace myself. I do not want any stray eyes seeing me talking to an officer of the Arin army."
"What about the thief?" asked the officer.
"Galan knows nothing about who I am," shrugged the spy. "People like him will do anything for two silvers. He will drink himself into a stupor tonight and remember nothing tomorrow."
"Fair enough," nodded the officer. "Whose spy are you?"
"Salacian," answered the spy. "I came across some documents that King Caedmon will be very interested to see. It appears that you have a rather large Borundan spy network in Anatar. I stumbled over it quite by accident, but I recognized it for what it was as soon as I saw it. One of the names on the list is a man we have been searching for for months."
"Oh?" the officer said with interest. "Can I see the documents?"
"That is why I asked for an officer to come here," nodded the spy as he rose and walked to the bed. "I plan to give the documents to King Hector when I return to Kyland, but I felt that it was something you need to see right away. Every day these spies are in place presents a chance for a catastrophe."
The spy pulled a large stack of papers out of his pack and dropped it on the bed. "It is a lot of material," he said, "but you can look as long as you want to. The night is quite young and I can always sleep later."
The officer nodded as he moved to the bed and picked up the stack of papers. "I recognize some of these names," he said after a moment.
"I would think that you would," nodded the spy. "You probably recognize more than I do. It is your city after all. Have a seat and make yourself comfortable. It will take a while to read those."
The officer nodded subconsciously and sat in the chair by the window as he started flipping through the pages. Within minutes he became so engrossed in the information that he did not see the spy remove a cudgel from under the blanket. The spy smashed the cudgel over the officer's head, and the officer collapsed on the floor.
"I still hope to find out what Galan told you to get you up here," smirked the spy.
The spy stripped the officer and tied him to the chair. He gagged the man so that he could not speak. As he waited for the officer to regain consciousness, the spy removed his own clothes and put on the uniform. The fit was not perfect, but it was passable. He had been prepared to alter it if necessary, but that would have precluded its use the same night.
When he was fully dressed in the uniform, the spy moved the chair next to the bed, but facing away from it. He sat on the edge of the bed and waited for the officer to wake up. As soon as the officer began to stir, the spy placed his hands on the man's head. Visions, sounds, smells, and feelings flooded the spy's mind. He closed his eyes and let the officer's memories flood into his head. The officer struggled to escape his bonds, but it did not distract the spy. In just a few minutes the spy was done. He moved his hands to his face and mentally composed an image of the officer in his mind. He felt the transformation occur, and he smiled in triumph. The spy rose and walked around the chair to face the officer.
"This is how you look to others," smirked the spy.
The officer's eyes grew wide in terror as he stared at the likeness of himself. He tried to scream, but the gag would not permit it.
"And to think that Galan got you up here by saying a young woman was accusing you of assaulting her?" laughed the spy. "Rather foolish on your part, don't you think? Ah, I guess you can't answer right now, but I will give you something to think about before I kill you. I want you to think about why a Borundan prince would want to impersonate you."
Prince Zinan drew the knife on
his belt and sliced the throat of the officer. He wiped off the blade on the officer's underclothes and sheathed the weapon.
"At least you are better looking than that Caprian bandit I had to portray to get here," smirked Prince Zinan.
Prince Zinan, in his new disguise as a high officer in the Arin army, left the room and the Palace Shadow Inn. He marched the short distance to the gates of the palace, and the soldiers opened the gates as they saw him approach. One of the soldiers manning the gate made a comment to the officer, but the officer did not reply. He continued walking through the gates and into the palace
It was not long after the evening meal, and there was a fair amount of traffic in the corridors, but the officer marched through the halls very much like a man on an assignment. No one interrupted his passing with casual talk or idle questions.
Using the officer's memory of the layout of the palace, the dark prince moved quickly to the chambers reserved for Zalman. He opened the door without knocking and found the rooms empty. Prince Zinan knew that at the given hour, there were three likely places to find his father, and he had just eliminated one of them. Refusing to enter the dining rooms that would be filled with people of high rank, the officer turned and headed for the library, a place that had almost become a second home to Zalman.
When he reached the library, the dark prince halted in the doorway. A lone man sat in a comfortable chair total engrossed in a book. It was Zalman. The dark prince stood and stared for several minutes as he gazed at a man he had never known, the father who had abandoned him on the very day of his birth, the murderer who had taken his mother's life.
Prince Zinan roiled with rage, but he maintained a calm composure. He slowly entered the library and crossed the room. Zalman looked up when he heard the officer's footsteps, but he quickly returned his attention to the text. The officer moved quietly until he was standing directly behind Zalman. Zalman felt the officer's presence and began to turn around to see what the soldier was up to, but Zinan's hands streaked and grasped the old man's neck. The dark prince closed his eyes and his mind whirled with images and sounds from Zalman's mind even as the prince's hands choked the life out of his father.
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