“Well, the choice is clear. We need to locate this abhorrent infant and slaughter it.” As ever, Warrimonious was straight to the point.
Agmunsten spoke directly to the dragon prince. “I have something to ask of you, my old friend, Zimapholous.”
“Your old friend hey? This should be interesting.” Zim was expecting the worst.
“I, or rather, The Circle, need you to perform an important task. Will you do it?” Agmunsten knew Zim wouldn’t refuse, especially as he was also a member of The Circle.
“When have I ever refused any request of The Circle? Although it might depend on what you ask. Why don’t you just get to the point, old friend?”
Agmunsten drew a deep breath. “We need you to fly to Brenland, to King Heskin’s castle. We need you to bring the king and Elphus here.” Agmunsten almost shut his eyes in preparation for his colleague to burn him to a crisp.
Zim took a few deep breaths. He knew that the head of The Circle had meant no insult. In fact, there must be dire need for Agmunsten to have asked the question in spite of the reaction he would receive. “As reluctant as I am, I will not allow pride to interfere with what needs to be done. I will do it, but I may never let you forget it.”
“I can live with that. Thank you, you are a credit to your race.”
“Gee thanks, sorry I can’t say the same about you.” They shared a smile. Agmunsten had to admit, it had gone a lot better than he had imagined.
The group spent the rest of the night discussing how their objectives could be completed, however were not much closer to a solution at dawn than they had been at midnight. Their fast was broken in contemplative silence. Discussions resumed mid-morning. Only inching closer to an answer, the group conceded a few hours rest wouldn’t go amiss.
Agmunsten sought Arie. He had left him alone for too long and had to question quite a few dragons before he found his charge in the upper reaches of Vellonia. Arie was with Symbothial, the dragon who had first welcomed them.
Arie was learning about the fortifications created to withstand the Gormons. He had no idea the brilliant golden spires were a powerful defence, capable of destroying the enemy. Symbothial was extremely knowledgeable; it was his job to make sure the spires remained charged. Satisfied Arie was in good hands, Agmunsten returned to his room and slept. He was woken a couple of hours later by a sharp rap on the door. He swung out of bed and shuffled to the door, grumbling as he did so. A dark blue dragon, he had not previously met, stood impatiently outside. “Sir Realmist, you are required urgently. There is an emergency. One of The Circle is dying.” Agmunsten blinked to clear his grainy eyes. He’d slept in his clothes, so was ready to run.
Agmunsten had to jog to keep up with the blue dragon’s large stride. What could have happened to Zim? He was in his own city, protected by more than the rocky walls. It was unlikely to be a dagger strike, the dragon’s hide being too thick to penetrate with an ordinary blade. Had someone poisoned him? Agmunsten cursed himself for leaving his pack behind. This shouldn’t be happening and could spell disaster for everyone, not to mention the collective grief if Zim were killed.
He rushed into one of the city’s bedrooms and was greeted with an unexpected sight. His assumption that Zim had been in danger was completely wrong. A sandy haired young man sat next to a still body, deep lines of distress cutting a premature path across his youthful brow. On his knee was a rat, on his shoulder a white owl. In a split second Agmunsten realised whose face he would see when he looked at the unmoving figure. He was glad Zim was not lying there, but his heart dropped as he gazed upon one of his oldest friends. Arcon’s face was pasty white, his breathing shallow, barely audible. Agmunsten swallowed his emotions and acted quickly.
He approached Arcon and undertook a brief physical examination, noting temperature and heart rate. Cupping his hands firmly, but gently, around Arcon’s skull, he used realmistry, delving into his brain. Agmunsten addressed the young man, whom he now knew to be Blayke. “You shouldn’t have let him do this. He’s dying.”
Blayke answered as he looked at Agmunsten with moist eyes. “I told him not to; we all did.” His head fell forward until his chin touched his chest. Phantom hooted comforting tones; Fang said nothing.
“I want everyone out. Now!” His shouted words reverberated in the silence. Agmunsten was already ignoring the departing crowd, focusing solely on his friend and colleague. By shielding himself, and his group, for an extended period, Arcon had used most of his life force. His cells were drained, every part of his body close to collapse. It was only a matter of time before his kidneys, heart, and brain failed. The leader of The Circle replaced his hands on the patient’s head. What he was about to do would take hours and drain him significantly, not to mention open them up to attack from outside—but he had no choice. To go on without one of The Circle was suicide. The realmist took a few deep, centering breaths and began. He couldn’t imagine how their situation could be any worse.
21
Pernus and Fendill sat locked in their quarters. The men sat companionably at a small table, Fendill happy the soldier had thought to bring dice. Leon’s realmist and Edmund’s captain had been imprisoned in their rooms for what they assumed was six days, relying on the frequency of meals to estimate the passing of time. Leon had been coming and going, and Princess Tusklar had even made a couple of appearances to see Prince Leon. At these times they had shut themselves in the prince’s private rooms. Pernus had dared point out the foolishness of such an arrangement, and had received a broken nose for his efforts.
The princess distressed Pernus. She had always presented as a polite and pleasant woman, but he sensed a disturbing undercurrent. He wondered if Leon’s apparent escalation of violence was because of her.
It seemed the relationship between Leon and the princess was going well. It was maybe for this reason that Pernus and Fendill were waiting for their prince to return from a meeting called by the king. The soldier was on edge. Was the king happy or was he sharpening his sword? Pernus rolled the dice. Fendill laughed. “It seems you lose again. You’re going to owe me a lot of money when we return.”
Pernus smiled, but his reply wasn’t so jolly. “If we return.”
The Veresians looked at each other for a moment. Pernus was broaching a subject they had both been contemplating but had been too afraid to give voice to.
“Something’s going on with her.” They dared not use names, in case someone were listening. If it were obvious the princess was the subject of their conversation, they would have had dramatically shortened life spans.
“I know Pernus. I was shocked at his reaction the other day. I would have fixed it for you, but if he noticed…”
“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt too much. My soldier’s instinct is yelling at me to run. Something’s happening, something we couldn’t have anticipated. We need a plan.” Pernus was sweating. He knew Fendill was a good man, but he had been loyal to Leon in the past. Would he run straight to Leon with accusations of treason? At this point Pernus felt he had no choice but to risk it.
Fendill answered quickly, indicating he had been thinking along similar lines. He whispered, “I think,” he took a deep breath, “I agree.”
Pernus could see the disappointment and sadness on the man’s face. Fendill spoke again, “I assume your plan is to facilitate our extraction from this place.”
“As soon as possible.” Pernus leaned in and lowered his voice further. “There’s one thing before we leave. I need more information. King Edmund deserves to know as much as possible about what’s going on here. If we escape on a hunch, I don’t think our welcome will be very enthusiastic. I’m sorry to have to ask you.”
“Not quite sorry enough.”
“Not quite. Is there any way we can eavesdrop on a conversation between our man and her.”
“It’s possible, but dangerous. They would have no idea, but the king’s realmist might sense what I’m doing. I need some time to think about how I can do it.
&
nbsp; “That’s fine, I was losing anyway.” Edmund’s brown-haired Captain of the Guard slipped the dice into his pocket. “I’m going to take some thinking time of my own. Come and get me when you’ve worked it out.”
Pernus rose and headed for his bed. He was a tall, strong man, with a wide chest and heavily muscled arms—an imposing figure on any battlefield. Today, though, he felt none of that strength, and was glad Fendill was there.
Fendill remained at the table, green eyes staring blankly at the wall. The problem ran around the maze of his mind but hit dead end after dead end. He was forced to retrace his steps again and again. This was the most important thing he’d had to do in his thirty-five years. He was young for a realmist of his station, Advisor to the Prince of Veresia. He knew he was a good realmist, but held no illusions about why he had been chosen for the job. It had been a struggle to remain loyal to the prince, but he told himself it was really loyalty to his king and country. He knew he had been chosen because of his youth. He was easier for Leon to intimidate than an older, more experienced realmist.
He believed Pernus when he said it was now do or die. Fendill’s own instincts told him the same thing. How could this have happened? One minute he was a respected member of the court at Bayerlon, and now? Now he was virtually a prisoner awaiting execution. He had tried to hold the belief that Leon would keep him as his advisor if and when he married the princess. It could still happen, but he could see two other, unavoidable options. He knew Pernus was on borrowed time. Once Leon had a foothold here, he would think about going against his brother. He wouldn’t be surprised if Leon sent Pernus’s decapitated head to Bayerlon as a gift for the king.
The other scenario was that all three of their heads were sent back to Bayerlon. Leon was not treading lightly enough for his liking. From what he could see, King Suklar was an intelligent man who did not have much patience. He was surprised Leon was still allowed contact with the princess. What they discussed in private, he shuddered to think. Were they plotting their own treason? He was not sure how the princess benefited from upsetting her father by liaising with a Veresian prince. Maybe she truly was enamoured of Leon, but who could know what a young woman was thinking, let alone one from another culture, which was practically another world.
Fendill had never bonded an animal, a decision he now regretted. If he had bonded a small animal he would have had a ready-made spy. The problem was, he didn’t like animals. He saw them as dirty, smelly liabilities. He liked eating them, but that was about it.
A few hours passed. Leon returned. He had taken to entering from their room, probably an excuse to keep an eye on them. He was smirking. Fendill jumped up when the prince entered, and bowed. “You look well, my Prince. How go the negotiations?” Leon looked at his realmist, sudden distrust flicking across his face. It was gone as soon as Fendill noticed it.
“Hmm. I would have to say it’s going well. My brother might get a wedding invitation sooner than he thinks. So, tell me Fendill, my man—what have you been up to?”
Fendill ignored the innuendo. “Pernus and I played some dice earlier today; since then, nothing. I have to say, we’re getting bored cooped up here like laying hens. How long must we remain so?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ll ask Suklar next time I see him. I’m going to my room for a while. When the princess arrives show her straight through.” Leon abruptly turned away and unlocked the door to his rooms.
Fendill revised his earlier thoughts. He was now sure his head would be joining that of his friend Pernus. Leon was either very astute or suddenly paranoid. Had the princess caused the sudden alteration in personality? Not only had Leon been shorter of temper, which Fendill had not thought possible, he was edgy, and now suspicious of his own men. They clearly did not have long to come up with a solution. He hoped Pernus was close to finalising a plan to get them out alive.
The thoughts rushing around the realmist’s head ceased their frantic activity. Peaceful silence embraced his mind for an instant before a smile threw the tension from his face. He realised he had not moved since Leon had left the room. Fendill was not sure how much time had passed, but he wanted to move quickly now that he had a solution to the first part of their problem. He went to Pernus as fast as he could without running, and found the large man sleeping. Fendill stood there a moment, composing himself before he woke him. Pernus opened his eyes at the sense of another; and smiled in reaction to Fendill’s excited expression.
“I know what I need to do. The princess is coming to see him soon and I have to show her into the room. When I’m in there I’ll separate from my body.”
“You’ll do what?” Pernus’s mouth hung open. “I thought you said you had a solution.”
“I don’t have time for your questions right now. Save it for later. Anyway, when I leave my body, there’ll be nothing holding me up and I’ll collapse. Leon will probably call you for help. Tell him I wasn’t feeling well after lunch; that I was a bit dizzy. Make him think it was the food. You’ll have to carry me to bed. Whilst my mind is floating in his room I’ll be able to hear everything.”
“Won’t the other realmist know? Won’t he be able to sense something?”
“No. I’m not utilising the Second Realm. He won’t know a thing.”
“How will you get back?”
“When Leon opens the door I’ll come back to my own body.”
“Why all the drama? Can’t you just lie on the bed and travel through the door after he’s closed it?”
“If I were somewhere safer I could. The doors here could be warded against such things. I can’t see any wards, but they may still be there. I don’t understand enough about this place to risk it—I barely understand how those shimmery doors work.”
Fendill heard the door open. He turned quickly and bowed deeply at the princess. “Welcome Princess Tusklar. Please allow me to show you to Prince Leon’s rooms.”
Fendill rushed to the prince’s door and knocked loudly. “Come in.”
The realmist opened the door to see Leon standing in the middle of the room, back straight, head held proud. Princess Tusklar followed Fendill into the room and watched approvingly as Leon bowed. “You do me a great honour, yet again, Revered Princess Tusklar.” Leon turned to Fendill. “You may leave.”
Fendill’s face slackened and he dropped to the floor with a thud.
Leon stood there for a moment, arms crossed. He seemed embarrassed and not at all concerned that his advisor was lying in a heap on the floor. The princess was more alarmed than Leon. “Is he alright?”
“I’m not sure. Just a moment, princess. Pernus! Get in here, now!”
Pernus had been waiting for this invitation and rushed in. He found Leon prodding the body with his foot. “Find out if he’s still alive.”
Pernus squatted next to him. He lowered his face to his friend’s mouth to feel for breath and felt his skin; it was still warm. The soldier stood and faced the prince. “He’s still alive. He may have food poisoning; he complained of stomach cramps and dizziness after lunch. I’ll take him to his bed.” He didn’t wait for any refusal and dragged Fendill outside.
“Close the door. I don’t want to be disturbed. If he dies, you can tell me when I’m finished.”
“Sorry Princess. If he doesn’t die, maybe we can kill him anyway.”
“You are so funny.” She approached him. “You may embrace me.” He followed her orders and risked a kiss on the cheek. She purposely turned her face and kissed him passionately on the lips. Fendill would have blushed had he been in his body. He hoped this was all they were going to do; he hadn’t come here to observe what Leon and the princess got up to in their private time. Fendill would be quite cranky if they didn’t provide some information. He also resented the foot prod he had received. There was no doubt now about what sort of person Leon was. Fendill was hurt at the lack of concern his prince had shown when he had collapsed, but at least now he wouldn’t feel any guilt about their planned escape.
After s
ome time, to Fendill’s relief, the couple unlocked lips and started talking. Tusklar remained in Leon’s arms whilst they spoke. “You had something you wanted to discuss with me Princess?”
“As I mentioned before, I would like to marry soon. I feel I have found a suitable match. I think you know him rather well.” Leon smiled self-indulgently. Whilst he had hoped for success in his endeavour, he hadn’t thought it would come so easily. “There is only one problem, which was foreseeable.”
“Oh? What problem would that be?” Leon knew very well she knew what problem it would be. He also knew a kindred spirit when he met one, and knew her solution would be similar to his.
Her brow crinkled. “My father.” She broke from his embrace and walked toward where Fendill’s spirit hovered. He quickly moved out of the way. She wouldn’t have known he was there, however it was hard for him to remember he was insubstantial.
She watched Leon as if sizing up what his reaction would be. The voice in her head had told her what they needed to do, and had assured her Leon would be amenable to her suggestion. The voice was not there and suddenly she felt less sure of herself. “Are you prepared to do anything to marry me?”
“Anything, Princess.”
He was enjoying the game. It was even enjoyable to see she was ever-so-slightly uncomfortable with what she was about to suggest.
Tusklar sensed he was playing her. Instead of being incensed she laughed. “Your answer would be yes?”
He nodded. “Of course I would do anything to marry you.”
“I sense you would do this thing regardless of whether I were the prize.” Leon wasn’t sure now who was using who.
“Please, do tell me what this thing is.”
“My father will never agree to a marriage between us. He is old-fashioned and believes only another Inkran is suitable for his daughter. I truly believe he feels no one is good enough for me and will leave me rotting as a spinster until he dies. He wants to hold the throne as long as he can. He lives for nothing else but his totalitarian power.” Her eyes held fire but Leon was too mesmerised by his anticipation to take heed.
Shadows of the Realm (The Circle of Talia) Page 24