The King's Treasure

by Carol M. Vaughn

  Nami pursed her lips thoughtfully. “The king and the thanes hold audience each day. Even my father arranges meetings with his various factions. Perhaps not daily, but often.”

  Arianwyn nodded. “Let me ask first. But if I should be holding audiences, will you block out a time in the afternoon?” Nami nodded, following directions. “Also, I need time scheduled in the training arena in the early morning. Please arrange something with Captain Alberich.”

  “Yes, m’lady. Will that be all?”

  “For now. How do I find you if I need you?”

  Nami shrugged. “Send a page to find me. For now, I will visit your various instructors to determine when and for how long they plan on instruction.” Arianwyn nodded, waving her away. She suddenly felt exhausted. So much to do. And no clues. Nothing to indicate a direction forward.

  She wandered back among the stacks of books, frustrated. She ignored the history books. And the books on trade. And the ones on law. In her current state of mind, she doubted she would give them the proper focus. She picked up a thin book, hidden deep in the stacks. She flipped open the cover. The Tales of Nando.

  On her way out of the stacks, she guiltily picked up a book of law. Aldous would want to know she was continuing her studies. She made a face to herself. So would Rael. She considered asking Nami to write a report at the end of each day to deliver to Rael. The idea was dismissed. Rael would want to see that she was progressing in her legibility. She left the library, heading to a lesson with Lysander in the informal dining room.

  It only took a few days for Arianwyn to be grateful for Nami. She had reported Nami to Rael, giving him a copy of her schedule. He responded the next day, writing approval of her stewardess and reinforcing that she should be holding audiences. Lysander seemed disgruntled. He did not believe she was ready to hold court.

  A minor reception hall on the ground floor was appointed for Arianwyn to hold court. The first day, no one came. She spent the time drumming her fingers and ignoring Lysander’s pointed stares at her hand. The second day, three people came. All of them were women, seeking advice on approaching the king. When the last woman left, Arianwyn stood up and marched out of the hall. “Lady Arianwyn,” Nami called, “you still have your lesson with Master Fred!”

  “Please send my apologies. I’m feeling indisposed,” she snapped. :Parvati? Would you come take me to the Dragon Cave?:

  :Just a moment,: Parvati responded. Arianwyn sighed, pausing by the door. :Your male says you may use the stairs.: Arianwyn frowned, but headed up. Parvati must have a good reason for making her walk. She detoured to her bedroom, picking up her book, before heading the rest of the way up. Sigurd and Wymond looked surprised as she approached Rael’s door. So did the guard assigned to Rael's door.

  “I'm going to be awhile,” she muttered to her guards. She went the rest of the way to the Cave, smiling when she saw Parvati. She sat in the curve of Parvati’s neck, cracking the book open. “The Tales of Nando. I wonder who he was.”

  She settled down, beginning her book. It was nice being alone. :We have not been alone for some time,: Parvati remarked. Arianwyn hmmed at her, continuing her story. :Maybe you should have Nami schedule time like this for us.:

  “That’s a good idea. Will you remind me later? I’d like to spend some time not thinking about schedules now.” Parvati rumbled and closed her eyes while Arianwyn continued reading.

  Bernie

  Bernie dressed carefully, making sure his uniform was unwrinkled and his hair combed. The Soulless couldn't have arrived at a better time for him.

  He was getting nowhere contacting Ji—Arianwyn. Her bodyguards were too quick; they had her walking away from him before she even knew he was there. But with the Soulless...the king was desperate for information. Bernie could give them that.

  He marched into the Keep, making his way up to the War Chambers. Bernie kept an ear to the ground for scuttlebutt, a habit he had brought with him from the village. An enterprising man could make a decent amount of money by knowing what was going on. He reached the hall to the War Chamber. The bodyguards spotted him immediately, both straightening and glaring his way.

  Bernie took a deep breath and approached the woman reading. He struggled not to shake his head. A woman. Reading. It was such a useless ability. The bodyguards continued to glare at him, one leaning down to speak with Arianwyn. Her gaze came up and met his. She whispered something back at them, eyes fixed on him.

  Bernie stopped just short of the group and bowed. “Lady Arianwyn, if I migh’ haf a momen'? I’ve information to report.”

  “Of course,” she responded. She closed her book and marked her place with a finger. She stood and stepped closer to Bernie and farther from the body guards. For a moment, Bernie was tempted to grab her and run. It was a brief moment. Her bodyguards moved to flank her. Bernie scowled at them. Arianwyn sighed. “Could we at least be civil with one another? Bernie isn’t going to hurt me.”

  Bernie nodded curtly. Neither man moved. “I haf information abou’ the Soulless,” he muttered, shooting dark looks at the bodyguards. They still didn't back off. They would be troublesome. “The men…they wan’ it reported discreet, don’ wan’ the General gettin’ wind o’ what’s been said.” He let his mountain accent slip in, thick and heavy. Most of the city folk he had met had a hard time understanding him when he spoke with his accent.

  “I won’t tell him where my sources are from. And neither will Sigurd or Wymond.”

  Bernie took a deep breath, hunching slightly closer to her and lowering his voice anyway. He considered pulling her closer to him. A shift of the two men so that their hands rested on the hilts of their swords changed his mind again. “They say there’re haunted locations, places where grea' battles haf taken place an' the dead walk free. Mos'ly along borders, they say. Those who’ve patrolled 'long the Dragon-Manticore border say the hauntin's are real bad. Some refuse to return.”

  Arianwyn frowned. “Thank you, Bernie. I will be sure to inform His Majesty of what you’ve said.”

  Bernie saluted her. This meeting did not go how he anticipated. He turned to go, and then hesitated, an idea catching hold. “Migh' I talk with ya later? I’d like ta catch up.” He held his breath, waiting. His employer had been pushing hard for him to make contact with her.

  “I will have Nami contact you,” she said. Bernie nodded and walked away. He fought the urge to look over his shoulder at her, to see if she was still watching. He needed her to still be watching. If his plan was going to work, he needed her to trust him completely.

  25-Clues

  It was the morning of the meeting on the Soulless. Despite her best efforts, Arianwyn had discovered nothing to help them. She had learned more about library research. She sighed, leaning against the wall outside of the King’s War Chambers. Sigurd and Wymond stood nearby, speaking quietly with the king’s body guards.

  She slid into a chair, opening her book while she waited. She had read the first three stories in The Tales of Nando. She found that she had less time to read for pleasure since Nami began scheduling her day. She also discovered that there were a lot of duties she had been neglecting.

  “The night was dark and stormy. Perfect for an ambush. The King’s Third Division rode slowly forward, horse hooves wrapped to muffle the sound. A shudder ran through the line on the right side. I, Captain Nando, looked to the right, holding up a fist to signal a stop. ‘Undead soldiers, Captain!’ my first lieutenant gasped.

  “’Form up! Tighten ranks! Half right turn!’ I bellowed. I had encountered these monsters before, in the Forests of Dere. ’Strike for the heads!’ I shouted. ‘If you cannot remove the head, do not strike or they will grow stronger!’”

  Arianwyn gasped, looking up. “Are you okay?” Sigurd asked.

  “I think I just found a reference to the Soulless!” she said, excited. Sigurd stepped closer, glancing at the book with interest. Wymond watched curiously. “Do you know where the ‘Forests of Dere’ are?”

  Sig
urd frowned. “I have never heard of them.”

  “What about a Captain Nando?”

  Wymond groaned softly, looking down the hall. “You cannot believe what you hear of ‘Captain Nando,” he muttered. “There are a hundred variations of his tales, all of them told to make him the hero.”

  Arianwyn frowned at him. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t a kernel of truth to the stories.”

  “As you wish, m’lady.” Arianwyn rolled her eyes at him. Wymond glanced up the hall and straightened slightly, eyes narrowing. “Is that one going to attempt speaking with you again?”

  Arianwyn looked up the hall. Her heartbeat increased. “He’s a good man,” she whispered, watching Bernie walk down the hall toward them. She half-wished Rael were with them.

  Bernie stopped just short of the group and bowed. “Lady Arianwyn, if I migh’ haf a momen'? I’ve information to report.”

  “Of course.” She closed her book, marking her place with a finger, and stepped closer to Bernie and farther from the body guards. Sigurd and Wymond moved to flank her. Bernie scowled at them. Arianwyn sighed. “Could we at least be civil with one another? Bernie isn’t going to hurt me.”

  Bernie nodded curtly. Neither Sigurd nor Wymond moved. “I haf information abou’ the Soulless,” he muttered, shooting dark looks at Sigurd and Wymond. “The men…they wan’ it reported discreet, don’ wan’ the General gettin’ wind o’ what’s been said.”

  “I won’t tell him where my sources are from. And neither will Sigurd or Wymond.”

  Bernie took a deep breath, hunching slightly closer to her and lowering his voice. “They say there’re haunted locations, places where great battles have taken place and the dead walk free. Mostly along borders, they say. Those who’ve patrolled along the Dragon-Manticore border say the hauntings are real bad. Some refuse to return.”

  Arianwyn frowned. There was hardly anything new they were unaware of. “Thank you, Bernie. I will be sure to inform His Majesty of what you’ve said.”

  Bernie saluted to her. He turned to go and then hesitated. “Migh' I talk with ya later? I’d like ta catch up.”

  “I will have Nami contact you,” she said, ignoring the stiffening from Sigurd and Wymond. Bernie nodded, walking away. “He’s an old friend,” she muttered to them.

  “The king won’t like it,” Sigurd responded.

  The door opened. One of the king’s guards gestured for Arianwyn to enter. She stepped inside, catching the last bit of a heated debate. “Your Majesty, I must protest! The inclusion of that…that girl is not right! She will bring about the downfall of the kingdom,” General Albius snarled.

  “General Albius, be careful how you speak of my bride,” Rael growled back. “I have invited her to attend this meeting. She was one of two eyewitnesses of events at the border. And I will not have you insult her again.”

  General Albius pinched his lips together, glaring. “Your Majesty,” Arianwyn inserted. She curtsied, ignoring the icy look Albius sent her way. Rael gestured toward a seat near him and she took it.

  “Might I be excused, Sire? I have nothing to report at this meeting,” Albius said from between clenched teeth.

  Rael frowned. “Were your soldiers asked about the Soulless?”

  “They were, Sire. They said the Soulless were tales of green soldiers.”

  “You may go.” Albius bowed stiffly and then turned and left the room. Rael watched him go, frustration clear in his eyes. When the door closed, he directed his scowl on Arianwyn and Cyril. “And what of you two? Come up empty as well?”

  Arianwyn frowned at him, but bit her tongue. Now was not the time to reprimand him for his manners. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Cyril said. “The scholars have been searching night and day, aided by Lady Arianwyn. They have found nothing.”

  “Instruct them to continue searching.”

  “I will, Sire.”

  “The dragons knew nothing. However, I have found two areas. Do you know where the Forests of Dere are?” Arianwyn asked.

  Rael frowned, glancing at Cyril. Cyril shrugged and shook his head. “It sounds familiar, why do you ask?” Arianwyn placed the book on the table, pointing out the paragraphs she had read. Rael read the paragraphs, and then flipped to the front of the book. “The Tales of Nando are not the most reliable of sources,” he said dryly.

  “But it’s the only reference found. Most stories exist because something similar happened,” she said. Rael frowned, tapping the book with his finger. “Perhaps if we can discover anything about the Forests of Dere, we will be able to discover more of the Soulless.”

  “It’s a direction to search in, Your Majesty,” Cyril added.

  Rael sighed. “Fine. You said you found two areas?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. As a commoner, I believe the soldiers may have been more comfortable confiding in me than in General Albius.”

  “You’re not a commoner,” Rael muttered.

  “Former commoner, then, Sire.” She smiled at Rael. “They claim that there are several locations that are haunted. Most seem to be centered near great battles or borders. Some of the veterans refuse to patrol the Dragon-Manticore border.”

  “Excellent,” Rael said, nodding to her. He pulled the map closer. “That would explain our encounter. Did they mention the frequency of the stories? If they seemed to appear every ten years or just recently?”

  “I’m afraid not, Your Majesty. I shall be sure to ask.”

  Rael nodded again and dismissed Cyril and Arianwyn. “You realize that if this gets back to General Albius, he will be most displeased,” Cyril murmured as they left the room.

  Arianwyn shrugged. “He already dislikes me.”

  “You’re a woman in a war council,” Cyril chuckled. “Of course he dislikes you.” Arianwyn smiled at him. Cyril bowed and left, still chuckling to himself. Arianwyn shook her head and returned to the library, determined to study more about the Forests of Dere.

  She did not get much studying done. Sigurd insisted in following her around and muttering about Bernie. “You should not meet with him. He could be assigned elsewhere.”

  “He's not even a member of the Keep Guard,” Arianwyn responded. “And I told you, he's just a friend.”

  Sigurd snorted, leaning on one of the stacks and watching for anyone approaching. “Perhaps you believe that. But he does not. And the king will not feel inclined to see private meetings with him as mere friendly encounters, either.”

  “He is a part of the Wall Guard,” Wymond inserted from her other side. She frowned at him. “His Majesty felt obligated to take him in, since he brought news of you and lost his post back in his village.”

  She shook her head. “Nothing will happen between us, regardless of how Bernie may or may not feel,” she insisted. “Besides, I doubt His Majesty much cares what I do with my time,” she muttered.

  Sigurd laughed. “If he did not care, I wouldn't keep getting so many questions from him.”

  Arianwyn glared at him. “The marriage is convenient for him because of Parvati and Charon, nothing more.”

  Sigurd frowned at her. “You don't know that.”

  “He's said it himself on more than one occasion!” she spat. “I do not wish to speak more of this.” She snatched a random book and stomped to the tables, throwing the book down. Aldous glared at her. She sat down and opened the book. She stared for an hour at the page without seeing anything.

  Rael

  Rael paced in his study. It was late in the night but he could not sleep. “Barit, get me Sigurd!” he shouted at the door.

  :Will you stop shouting?: Charon grumbled. :I'm trying to sleep.:

  Rael rolled his eyes and continued his pacing. It took nearly half a candle-mark for Sigurd to arrive. He stumbled in the door, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Rael glared at him. “Why haven't you been reporting on Arianwyn?”

  “Fire-blazing...you woke me up for this?” Sigurd snapped. He stalked into the study and threw himself into a chair, scrubbing his fa
ce with his hands. “I've been busy following your orders—to keep her safe!”

  “What about keeping her away from the boy?”

  Sigurd shook his head. “She is not one of your soldiers, Rael. She has done nothing to warrant your concern.”

  Rael shook his head. “She is meeting with him in private. The servants are gossiping about her being pregnant,” Rael said. “And you say I have nothing to worry about?”

  “You shouldn't listen to servants' talk,” Sigurd replied. Rael shook his head again, resting his arm on the mantle and staring into the fire. “Rael, she isn't your mother.” Rael straightened from the mantle, his black fury settling over his face. Immediately, Sigurd knew he had gone too far.

  “Isn't she?” he hissed. Sigurd stood and chose not to answer. He stared straight ahead instead. Rael stalked over to him, standing in his line of sight. “She is bonded to a dragon. She is intelligent. She was engaged to another man and now seeks that man's attentions! How is she unlike my mother? How long will she wait after becoming queen to betray me?”

  “She was not raised like your mother,” Sigurd answered. “She will do what she believes to be right. And she will be loyal to whomever she gives her heart to.”

  Rael clenched his hands behind his back. “Do I have it? Or does this village guard Bernie have it?”

  Sigurd hesitated. He met Rael's eyes and considered lying. But he knew better. One of Rael's gifts was to detect a spoken lie. “I do not know.” Rael turned and paced again. Sigurd hurried on before Rael could speak again. “I do not know that she has given any man her heart. I doubt she loves Bernie. She has never said so. Even more, I doubt she trusts him. She will never love someone she does not trust.”

  Rael stopped his pacing. He did not turn to look at Sigurd this time. “Does she trust me?”

  Sigurd took a deep breath before answering. “Not completely.”

  Rael struggled to keep his shoulders from slumping. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. “What will it take?”