by Cas Peace
“Killing me would be a grave mistake, my friend,” he sneered, “even if you were capable of it, which you’re not. You’d be signing your sisters’ death warrants, and your own, if you tried. You’re not that important to me, you know, so don’t tempt me to remove you.”
“When are you going to end this, Captain?” pleaded Ozella. “How long are you going to keep torturing me?”
“For as long as you’re useful!” Parren stepped abruptly close to Ozella. The olive-skinned youth took a backward pace, as if slapped, and sweat broke out on his brow.
Parren smiled. He had just decided that even if the Baron had no further need of Ozella’s services, Parren could still make use of him to further his own vengeful ends. He was deeply satisfied by Robin’s reactions to Denny’s scandalmongering and wondered if the Lieutenant had any idea of the tremendous damage he had caused. Parren remembered Denny well from their days as cadets, and had always suspected Sullyan had helped him through their final tests. Although Denny had never done Parren any actual harm, he had refused to join Parren’s schemes to discredit her back then. The scarred Captain’s soul was gratified to think he had used another of her friends against her.
Now that he had managed to create the rift between her and Robin, it was time to drive the wedge in further and cause as much grief to them both as he could. His smile turned sadistic and Ozella winced.
“I have a task for you, my fine lord,” purred Parren. “I know how hard you have found it to fit in here, and I feel sorry for you.” Ozella made a choking sound. “I want to help you. You need a friend, Ozella. Someone to confide in, someone to share moments of uncertainty with, someone to bolster your spirits. You have been feeling a bit depressed lately, haven’t you?”
“You evil bastard,” rasped Ozella, staring at the flash of pleasure in Parren’s flat eyes. The Captain was aware how deeply Ozella wished he had the courage to put his hands about Parren’s throat and squeeze the life out of him.
Staring back at him, Parren brought the two gold rings out of his pocket. He held them up before Ozella’s dark eyes and slowly closed his fist about them, leaving Ozella in no doubt of his meaning. The fire in those almond eyes died and the sick despair returned.
“Better,” approved the Captain. “Don’t push me too often, Ozella. You have two sisters, remember. I only need one to keep you in line.”
Ozella gasped like a stranded fish. He had clearly never considered that point.
Parren saw the unhealthy pallor of Ozella’s skin deepen as the Beraxian’s shoulders slumped. He fervently wished he had the man’s sisters in reality. Reen should have offered to let Parren guard them. He would have enjoyed that.
“What I want you to do,” he continued, reveling in Ozella’s air of submission, “is to make friends with that runt of a cadet. What’s his name... Tad, isn’t it? The one who has the pathetic crush on Major Tamsen. He doesn’t have many friends here either, I believe, so you should be ideally suited. I want you to become his shadow, his confidante. I want you to get him to tell you everything he knows or hears about Major Tamsen or any of the other Artesans. Do you understand? Make yourself indispensable to him. Be a brother to him, Ozella!”
The young lord swallowed. There was something depraved about Parren’s tone and Ozella clearly didn’t like it, but Parren knew there was nothing he could do. He was trapped and helpless, with no hope of an end to his torture. Parren saw the tears that pricked his eyes and smiled. Ozella slowly nodded his acceptance and Parren turned away, pleased with his own little scheme.
*****
Bull found Tad practicing training exercises in the College.
“How’s the hand, sir?” the lad asked when Bull entered the room.
“Mending fine,” said Bull, giving Tad a genuine smile and allowing the lad’s cheerfulness to dispel the frustration and sorrow resulting from his row with Robin. He lowered his bulk onto one of the tables. “Another day or so and it’ll be back to normal.”
“Is there something I can do for you?” Tad seated himself on a table opposite Bull. It wasn’t lost on the older man that Tad’s habit of perching on the corner of a table or desk, one leg swinging, was copied exactly from Robin. He wondered if Tad was even aware of the imitation. Tad’s infatuation was born of respect and love, and he could have had far worse role models than Robin. Current situation excepted, of course.
“I want to ask you to do something, lad, and it could be fairly important, although you might not agree with me when you hear what it is.”
Tad frowned and cocked his head.
“We’re all a little concerned about Ozella,” continued Bull. “I expect you’ve noticed that he doesn’t mix much with the rest of us, and he has no friends among the men, from what I’ve seen.”
Tad nodded.
“Well, he’s been acting strangely of late, and I’ve come to the conclusion there’s something wrong. But I don’t think he’ll talk to me, and with things the way they are right now, no one else can spare the time to win him over.”
Tad’s face cleared. “I see, sir! You want me to make a friend of him and see if I can find out what’s troubling him, is that it?”
Bull smiled. “You’re very quick, lad. That’s it exactly. I don’t know what your chances are, but you’re the only one who might be able to get through to him. I can’t offer you much advice, but I do know he’s very keen on that desert-bred horse of his. You might try starting there. You know a lot about horses now. Tell him how much you admire the animal, or something like that. If you can get him talking about his horse, he might open up about other things.”
Tad looked dubious. “I agree it’s a good place to start, sir. I just hope I can be a good liar. Because that skinny animal of his is useless for anything except desert racing. It’s certainly no match for our beasts.”
Bull chuckled. “I happen to agree with you, but we don’t have to tell Ozella that, do we? Just do your best.”
*****
Sullyan’s mind was in turmoil as she raced up to the Manor. She could understand Blaine’s anger at her absence and wished she had been here when the news of Eadan’s abduction arrived. She realized how her presence in Andaryon would look to the King, but then wondered whether Blaine would have told him. Well, she would soon know.
She cursed silently as she ran. Their enemy was growing strong and bold indeed if he could reach within the castle and abduct the Prince from under his guards’ noses. Yet this merely added weight to her theory that their enemy was within their own walls. Her prime suspect would be perfectly placed to carry out the deed without anyone being the wiser.
Her suspicions of the Queen’s involvement grew stronger than ever.
Blaine’s door was ajar and she could hear angry voices within. She didn’t bother to knock as she pushed it open. The room was full. Colonel Vassa stood by the window, his arms folded across his chest, his face reflecting extreme concern at this latest development. Robin stood by him, resolutely refusing to meet her gaze. Captain Dexter and Lieutenant-Major Baily were also there, as were some of the other captains. General Blaine was standing beside the King, who was sitting slumped in his chair, his head bowed over a parchment which he clenched in white fingers. His face was flushed.
Blaine stared at her, clearly still angry over her absence. Vassa’s expression was neutral. Not being an Artesan, he usually withheld his opinion except over military matters. Robin watched her covertly, frowning as if he too couldn’t believe where she had been. She felt a pang of grief. He of all people should have understood the debt of gratitude and love she owed Timar Pharikian. Baily and Dexter, along with the other captains, simply looked worried and confused.
In the silence that greeted her arrival, King Elias stood slowly. He trembled and his eyes, when they met hers, were almost inhuman; cold and savage. He didn’t speak, but thrust the parchment toward her. She saw how his hand shook. He appeared to have aged by twenty years. Her heart filled with pity for him and she wanted to throw
her arms about him for comfort. His hostile gaze held her back, however, and she could see now was not the time to display familiarity. He needed her professional skills more. She took the parchment and scanned it.
Fair exchange, Elias, since you are so keen on a trade-alliance. You attack our villages, we raid yours. You kill our people, we have killed yours. Yet still you weren’t satisfied. You took my son, my only Heir.
Fair exchange, then. Your son for mine. Until you return Prince Aeyron, whole and unharmed, you will not see your little boy. And if Aeyron is harmed in any way, your son will suffer the same. Think on that, Elias, and decide if it is not a fair trade.
At the bottom of the parchment, in place of a signature, was the royal seal of Pharikian’s House.
Sullyan raised her head from the note and looked straight into the cold fury of Elias’s stare. Her eyes filled with tears. Eadan was only just over a year old.
“Oh, Elias!” she breathed, her own hand trembling as she held the parchment.
The men were still watching her. The King took a step forward. She felt once more that strange tension that had filled the room while she and Robin argued.
“Where were you?” His voice was low and cold, quite unlike his usual tones.
She frowned. “I was not on duty, your Majesty. I was—”
“I said, where the Void were you?” His voice increased in volume and he took another step closer.
“I was attending the Hierarch, your Majesty. He received some bad news about his son and collapsed. He needed me.”
Elias’s unnatural stillness exploded into shocking fury. “How dare you? He needed you? What about me? I needed you, but when we searched for you, we found you were dancing attendance on the abductor of my son! You’re supposed to be my subject, Colonel. You’re supposed to serve me! Or have you forgotten that?”
Sullyan blanched in the face of his fury and fell to her knees before him. “Never, your Majesty! I would never forget that I serve you. I am yours to command, you know that. Yet how could I refuse the call of a dear friend in distress? Should I have left him to die when I could save him? Timar had nothing to do with the abduction of your son, you have my sworn word on that.”
Elias’s face flushed deeper and his eyes glittered feverishly. He appeared not to have heard her last words. “Is he dying?”
“I believe he will live, Majesty, given time to heal.”
“Then I pray he does not get it!”
She stared in consternation, thinking she had never seen a man in such extreme distress. Pharikian’s own reaction was no less violent, but the two men differed in that the Hierarch’s anger turned inward, whereas Elias wanted to smash something.
“He will pay for this,” snarled the King, turning away.
Sullyan was still on her knees. He hadn’t bothered to raise her. She watched him carefully, a dreadful suspicion forming in her mind.
“Mathias,” he snapped, “raise the militia. Get word to every village. They are to arm and send here every able-bodied man they have. Send runners to the garrisons. They are to march here immediately. I will send word to Kinsey to mobilize the Loxton garrison and raise the city. I need every man I can get.”
“Your Majesty!” protested Sullyan before Blaine could speak. She rose unbidden, her eyes full of horror. “What are you doing?”
Elias rounded on her. “What do you think I’m doing? Would you have me just sit here and twiddle my thumbs when that treacherous demon has stolen my son?”
“Timar does not have your son!” she insisted. “You are not thinking clearly. You are doing exactly what our enemy wants you to do. You are playing into his hands!”
Her exasperated tone caused Elias to freeze. He stood so still, she could almost hear the pounding of his blood.
“What did you say?”
His voice was frigid and he advanced on her menacingly. She glanced in appeal at the General. Surely he could see this was a complete overreaction? Surely he could feel something was wrong? Yet Blaine had closed his eyes. She was on her own.
Trying to stall him, Sullyan chose to misinterpret her monarch’s words. “Timar Pharikian does not have your son, your Majesty,” she repeated, hoping her soft tone would cut through the red mist of Elias’s fury. The situation was lost if she could not halt this desperate and unthinking rush for revenge. “He has no reason to abduct your son since he knows you were not responsible for taking Aeyron. How would Timar gain access to Prince Eadan? He was guarded too well. No, your Majesty. We must look within our own walls for the culprit.”
Refusing to be sidetracked, Elias shouted, “Then how do you explain the letter? How do you explain his seal?”
“Your Majesty, the letter Timar received early this morning, together with Aeyron’s ring, was signed with your seal. Did you send that letter to him? Did you sever Aeyron’s finger and send it with his royal signet to his father? Of course not!”
She stopped. Elias had turned bone-white and his trembling body would no longer hold him erect. He collapsed into a chair, breathing heavily; his blue eyes, hot with pain, fixed on her face. Blaine stared at her in open-mouthed horror while the other men muttered among themselves. Even Robin shook his head in despair.
Elias raised his face to the ceiling, two spots of color flaming high in his cheeks. His eyes darkened with terror and pain. “Oh, gods! Eadan!”
Too late, Sullyan recalled the passage in the note warning that Prince Eadan would be maimed to match any injury Aeyron suffered. She cursed herself for the slip.
“Your Majesty,” she began, moving toward the King. She had to lessen the damage, but it was too late. He was too far gone. He had been pushed beyond hearing, beyond reason. He stared mindlessly at her, all rage gone, all feeling walled away. She quailed at the alien nature of his expression.
“Your Majesty,” she tried again, “allow me to take some men and search for Prince Eadan. He has not crossed the Veils. He is here in Albia still, I would swear it. Whoever has taken Prince Aeyron also has your son. Timar Pharikian has nothing to do with this. He is as distraught as you are, and even now lies powerless in his bed, stricken with grief. His utter desolation may even prove too much for him. I beg you, do not attack Andaryon. You will be playing into the hands of your enemies, and I dread to think what that could mean. Give me leave, your Majesty. Send me to search for your son.”
Life returned to Elias’s dead eyes. His expression changed subtly, and she didn’t like what she saw. It was as if he had suddenly become a different person. She glanced at Blaine, who was watching his monarch.
Elias spoke sharply. “Do you serve me, Colonel Sullyan?”
She replied fervently. “Yes, your Majesty. You know I do.”
The King rose, all traces of distress vanished. He was fully, coldly, and unnaturally in control of himself. His voice, when he spoke, was strong and clear, yet oddly altered.
“Then I command you to lead my forces against the Hierarch, Timar Pharikian. As of now, we are at war with the realm of Andaryon.”
The End
Glossary
Albian Characters:
Ardoch, Master. Elias’s legendary swordmaster.
Baily. A Major at the Manor under Colonel Vassa.
Brynne Sullyan. A Colonel at the Manor under General Blaine.
Bull, aka Bulldog, aka Hal Bullen. Colonel Sullyan’s aide.
Cal Tyler. Taran’s friend, and life mate of Rienne Arlen.
Devis. Son of Jed, landlord of the Hazel Tree.
Dexter. A Captain at the Manor under Major Tamsen.
Eaden, Prince. Son of King Elias and Queen Sofira.
Elias Rovannon. Albia’s High King.
Fiann. A master bard from the Second Realm, Sinnia.
Fergus. A Kingsman at Port Loxton
Goran. Master cook at the Manor.
Hal Bullen. See ‘Bull.’
Hallian. A Captain at Port Loxton.
Hezra Reen. An Albian Baron from High King Elias’s court.
Hyram. General Blaine’s valet.
Izack. Baron Reen’s personal Commander.
Jed. Landlord of the Hazel Tree, an inn on the way to Port Loxton.
Jerrim Vassa. A Colonel at the Manor.
Jessy. Deceased sister of Robin Tamsen.
Jinella, Lady. The niece of Baron Reen.
Josh. Stablemaster at Port Loxton.
Kandaran. High King Elias’s father, murdered during Albia’s civil war.
Kinsey, Lord. Chamberlain to High King Elias.
Lerric. Client-king of Bordenn Province, father of Queen Sofira.
Lily. Lady Jinella’s maid.
Lyanda. Female member of King Elias’s runner service.
Mathias Blaine. The Manor’s senior officer and General-in-Command to High King Elias.
Milo. Landlord of an inn close to the Manor.
Morgan Sullyan. Deceased father of Brynne Sullyan.
Owyn Denny. A Lieutenant-Major at Port Loxton.
Ozella. A young Lord from Beraxia, sent to study at the Manor.
Parren, Glinn. A Captain at the Manor under Colonel Vassa.
Rendan Levant, Lord. First Minister to High King Elias.
Rienne Arlen. A healer, and Cal Tyler’s life mate.
Robin Tamsen. A Major at the Manor under Colonel Sullyan.
Seline, Princess. Daughter of King Elias and Queen Sofira.
Seth. Baron Reen’s manservant.
Sofira. Queen to High King Elias Rovannon.
Solet. The Manor’s stablemaster.
Tad Greylin. A cadet and Apprentice Artesan at the Manor.
Taran Elijah. Artesan-Adept and close friend of Brynne Sullyan.
Wil. A Corporal at the Manor.
Zane. Son of Jed, landlord of the Hazel Tree.
Andaryan Characters:
Aeyron Pharikian. Timar Pharikian’s son and Heir.
Anjer, Lord General. Officer in overall command of the Hierarch’s forces.
Barrin. A Commander in the Hierarch’s forces.