Late that evening, each member was assigned a different location to stand guard. Flare was the last to be assigned a location. The sergeant led him through the nicer parts of the palace until they entered a large anteroom. Several chairs and couches were against the walls, and a large thick rug covered the floor in the center of the room. The room was well lit by lamps placed in the corners. On the far wall, a guard stood at attention beside another door. The guard stood straighter when they entered the room.
“Flare, this is the room of Princess Elizabeth, so please be on your best behavior.”
Flare's mouth dropped open. “This is the princess' room,” he asked, surprised.
“This is the princess' anteroom. Visitors wait here for an audience with her. Her rooms are through that doorway,” he said pointing to the door, “and are much nicer.”
“Soldier, you're relieved,” Sergeant Latts said, and exchanged salutes with the soldier.
“Excuse me,” Flare said, without thinking, “Is the princess already in bed?”
The soldier stopped, “No, she had dinner with the king, and is probably still there. Uh, and besides, Princess Elizabeth sometimes takes her time returning to her room,” the soldier said, looking uncomfortable.
Sergeant Latts motioned toward the door, “It's pretty simple. Just stand there and don't let anyone through. If anyone wants to speak with the princess, just open the door and notify one of her servants. They'll let you know her answer.” The sergeant ran a hand through his hair, “Shouldn't be anyone trying to see the princess this late at night, anyway.” He considered Flare for a moment, “the Lieutenant might look in on you tonight.”
Was that a warning? Flare wondered.
“Any questions?” The Sergeant asked.
“Uh, no sergeant,” he said slowly.
Sergeant Latts nodded, “I'll leave you then. I have to report the duty assignments.”
Flare had been standing guard for about thirty minutes, shifting from foot to foot, when the princess entered the anteroom.
King Darion had three daughters, and Princess Elizabeth was the middle one. She was eighteen years old, blond and beautiful. Her blond hair had just a touch of brown. Her eyes were blue, and she had smooth tanned skin. She had high cheek bones and full lips, and Flare was surprised that she was only eighteen. Her body had already developed the curves that attracted men, and perhaps she was just slightly over-developed.
Flare snapped to attention. She paused in front of him, and tilted her head slightly to one side. She moved closer, and he became uncomfortably aware of just how low cut her dress was. “What’s your name?”
“Flaranthlas.” His mouth was suddenly dry.
Princess Elizabeth ran her hand up to the right side of his head, touching his ear. “You look like an elf, but yet you don’t.”
“I’m half elven.” Flare said.
She grinned wickedly, walking through the door. “I’ve never had an elf before.” She paused, “I mean I've never met an elf before.” Her grin deepened.
The door closed behind her, and Flare shoulders slumped. What in the name of the abyss had she meant by that? He took a deep breath. The thoughts that swirled through his mind seemed awfully inappropriate.
The princess had only been in her room for several moments, when the door to the hallway opened, and Sergeant Latts and another guard entered.
The surprise was evident on Flare's face, “Sergeant. Is something wrong?”
“No. Nothing’s wrong, but I have to change the guard assignments. I need you to come with me, and Balandon will guard Princess Elizabeth.”
Flare hesitated just a moment, “Yes sir.”
Walking through the halls, a suspicion began to grow in Flare’s thoughts, until he got the nerve to speak. “Sergeant. Why were the guard assignments changed?”
Sergeant Latts glanced at him, “It’s nothing to worry about. It happens all the time.”
“Am I the reason?”
The sergeant stopped. He sighed, but didn't say anything.
“The king didn’t want me guarding his daughter, did he?” Flare asked.
“When I reported the guard assignments to the Lieutenant, he ordered me to change them.”
“Does the king think that I would take advantage of one of his daughters? I swear to you that I would never do that.”
Sergeant Latts smiled, “Flare, it's nothing like that. A lot of the king’s councilors don’t like you. If anything happens to one of the princesses, you would be held more accountable than a typical guard.”
Flare’s ill mood eased at these words, a little, but he was still disgusted with the whole situation. He was striving to be accepted, but in Telur, as it had been in Solistine, he was not being judged on his actions. He was being judged on people’s perception of him. When he arrived, it had made him mad, but now the anger was fading and a depressing resignation was starting to settle in.
Flare spoke in a quiet but forceful voice. “I have done everything asked of me. I have sworn my loyalty to King Darion. So why am I doubted?”
Sergeant Latts watched as the emotions played across Flare’s face. “The king doesn’t doubt your loyalty or your abilities.” He paused, leaning against the wall. “There is something else I should tell you.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I’m ordering you not to repeat this, but the king’s daughters are rumored to be well versed in the ways of the world.”
Confusion wrinkled Flare's forehead. What did that mean?
“Supposedly, they have shared the beds with their guards on occasion, and they are very vindictive. I have heard that they ruined the careers of several bright young soldiers. I believe that the king is trying to protect you from a similar fate. All it would take to ruin you would be a rumor about you and a princess.” The sergeant was talking slowly, “But if you’re not assigned to guard any of the princesses’, you can not be implicated in any wrongdoing with them. Do you understand that this is in your best interest?”
“Yes sir.” Flare said quietly, looking a little sullen. “Well, what will I be guarding tonight? The stables or the kitchen?”
Sergeant Latts chuckled, and slapped Flare on the shoulder, leading them down the hallway again. “Actually, Flare, I have a much more interesting assignment for you. I’m going to assign you to the kings’ magician. Her name is Cassandra MonDarbi.”
“Cassandra,” Flare repeated with just a touch of awe in his voice. The anger at being removed from the princess' anteroom was quickly replaced with a surge of excitement and interest.
“Cassandra doesn't normally have a guard on her quarters and who can blame her? I mean, who would enter a magic-user's room without permission?”
Surprised, Flare asked, “Well, then why am I guarding her tonight?”
The sergeant didn't seem to notice the interruption, “I'm not sure why, but on occasion she requests that a guard be posted in her room.”
With excitement mounting, Flare followed the sergeant to the northeast corner of the palace. The chambers of the magician were located in a tower that was in an empty part of the castle. Maybe the nobles didn't like having a magician as a neighbor.
Cassandra was stunning. She was simply the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had long black hair, and smooth tan skin. She was tall, had a slim waist, and was wearing a tight ankle length red dress. By far the most intoxicating thing was her eyes. They were a magnetic deep grey. Her eyes seemed to catch him and hold him in their depths.
The sergeant introduced them, and Flare mumbled a greeting. Cassandra smiled at his stumbling, and he realized with horror, that he was blushing.
Sergeant Latts excused himself, and he left grinning.
Cassandra’s room was decorated nicely, but it was apparent that functionality was more important to her than luxury. The stone walls were lined with book shelves. The floor was bare without any rugs or coverings. To his left was a bar which ran most of the width of the room, effectively splitting the room in half. In the half of the room to Flare�
�s left, were several tables. In this half of the room, there were two couches, several chairs, and two more tables.
Directly opposite Flare, was a balcony overlooking the courtyard. The balcony doors were open, and the breeze ruffled the deep purple curtains that hung on the door.
There were no torches in the room, but the room was still brilliantly lit.
To his right, was a doorway that had to lead to Cassandra’s bedchambers. The thought of her bedchambers sent a chill down his back. He felt his face getting warm, as he started to blush again, and he looked to see if Cassandra noticed.
She had been cooling appraising him, as he had been scanning the room.
“Lady Cassandra, I'll be right outside the door if you need anything.” Flare said.
Cassandra crossed her arms frowning, “First of all, I am not royalty. You will address me as Cassandra. And secondly, I need you in here.”
Flare’s heart skipped a beat. “In here!?”
“The magical experiments I perform sometimes require a man's strength. I have made arrangements to have my guard stationed inside the room, instead of outside. The sergeant knows this, and has no problems with it.”
“As you wish,” Flare said, taking up position beside the door. Cassandra moved to one of the tables and began reading a large leather bound book.
Cassandra spent several hours preparing and practicing for a magical spell. At first, Flare had found this deeply interesting, but his interest waned over time, and he stood there rocking from foot to foot.
When she was ready, she spoke for the first time in hours, startling him back to attention. “All right. I'm ready to begin, but I don't think I will need your help after all. I want you to be quiet and say nothing. Do you understand?”
“Yes, perfectly.”
Enthralled, Flare watched as Cassandra began casting her spell. She used reagents, which she mixed in a small bowl in the middle of the table. While mixing, she spoke slowly and haltingly in a different language. Startled, Flare realized that Cassandra was trying to speak high elven. Although, her pronunciation was less than perfect.
There were bowls of different sizes scattered across the table. Hour glasses of various sizes sat along the right side of the table. A large book rested in the center of the table. He rose up on his tiptoes, trying to get a better look.
He continued to watch for several hours as Cassandra continued. He had never imagined that magic was so complicated. Cassandra proceeded slowly, using the different sized hour glasses to time different steps in the magic spell.
For the first step of the spell, Cassandra mixed reagents in a bowl and then ignited them. She immediately turned over one of the medium sized hourglasses, and began chanting in high elven, while she kept an eye on the hourglass.
When the last grain of sand dropped from the top half of the hourglass, Cassandra poured a handful of what looked like dust into the bowl.
Flare could only wonder at how valuable the ingredients were. He moved several steps closer trying to get a better look. The small flame in the bowl immediately erupted into a flaming pillar, shooting towards the ceiling. Startled, he jumped backwards, bumping into the wall next to the door. His heart was beating like crazy.
He quickly looked at Cassandra, hoping that he hadn't disturbed her. Much to his relief, she didn't appear to have noticed. He turned his attention back to the bowl, where the flame turned from yellow, to a bright blue, and finally changed to white.
Flare tore his eyes from the flame, to look at Cassandra’s face. She was still calm. Apparently, everything was happening as she had planned.
Even though the flame was running along the ceiling, it didn’t appear to be burning or scorching it. And for all the flame in the room, the temperature still felt the same as before.
The flame abruptly died out, and Cassandra turned over the smallest hourglass. She stood up and scooped up a large bowl. Then she dumped the white sand from the bowl onto the floor in front of a five foot mirror. She dropped to her knees, right in the middle of the sand, and she began tracing runes and symbols.
She frantically traced the runes, only pausing momentarily to glance at the hour glass. She was still tracing the runes, when the last sand dropped from the top of the hour glass. She grimaced and returned to the table.
For almost two hours, he watched Cassandra perform the steps of the magic spell. Reagents were added to the bowl, and mixed in. Phrases and words of high elven were spoken at various points in the process. At one point she paused for so long, that Flare was beginning to think that the casting was over, until he noticed Cassandra watching the moon. When she was satisfied, she starting again.
Finally, she stood and spoke in a loud voice, “Alundia sezkial desnarrath. Alul dã lateth! Paloze en-tafille al gedst. Quintill fa la-cantorri. Yud xil akto!” When she finished speaking, she collapsed into a chair. She was covered in sweat, and looked exhausted.
She forced herself back up, with her hands supporting her against the table.
Flare was drained just looking at her. “What now? What’s supposed to happen?”
“Well, if everything I did was correct, then I will soon add this tome of magic to my collection. It’s ancient and extremely valuable. I gained it at great personal risk.” Cassandra’s eyes burned with intensity.
“Well how will we know if it worked?”
Her eyes fluttered, almost closing. “In a moment the book should glow a brilliant white. When it does, the spells protecting it have been deactivated. Do you understand?”
“Yes, but this seems awfully complicated just to read a book.”
Cassandra smiled, and brushed back a strand of loose hair. “The magician that once owned this book was very powerful, and he was paranoid about protecting his secrets. Quite a few magicians have died trying to retrieve his spells. It was not easy for me to ...”
Cassandra suddenly straightened up, the color draining from her face. Her eyes focused on something that was roughly halfway between them.
“What’s the ...” An explosion of light and wind cut off the question he was about to ask.
An oval shaped disk of light hung suspended in the middle of the room. The disk was generating winds that were swirling in a circular motion. The winds were starting to resemble a tornado. Books and papers were flying about the room, and with a start, Flare realized the winds were increasing.
A book went flying through the room, entered the disk of light, and emerged unscathed from the other side of the disk.
Cassandra came around the left side of the table, and hollered across the room. “Get out, or the winds will suck us in.”
The winds were already making it hard for him to stand, so he grabbed hold of the door with his left hand, to steady himself. “Hurry!” He shouted back at Cassandra.
Cassandra skirted the disk, giving it a wide berth. The winds were increasing, and she was having a difficult time keeping her balance.
She was about even with the disk, just about to pass it, when an enormously thick book slammed into the back of her head, knocking her to the ground.
“Damn!” Even holding on to the door, he was having a hard time maintaining his balance.
A stool flew through the air, and Flare instinctively reached out and swatted it away. But in doing so, he released his hold on the door.
He immediately fell prone on the floor, hoping that the winds wouldn’t be able to move him.
Cassandra was still lying on the floor, but he could see that the winds were starting to slowly drag her towards the disk.
Acting without thinking, Flare put his right foot against the wall and lunged toward the magician.
The force of his lunge propelled him between Cassandra and the disk. The pull of the winds were stronger that he had realized, and started pulling him slowly towards the disk.
Grabbing Cassandra around the waist, Flare pulled her to him. He dug the toes of his boots into the floor, and with the fingernails of his left hand, tried to hold onto one
of the cracks between the blocks in the floor.
They continued to slide toward the disk, and Flare could think of nothing to stop their momentum.
He was starting to panic, when his eyes came back to the cracks in the floor. He pulled the knife from its sheath on its belt, and drove the knife down into the crack. Then wrapping his left arm around the knife, he held on to Cassandra with his right.
Flare said a silent prayer, hoping the knife would be enough to save their lives.
The winds had increased beyond belief. Books, papers, magical instruments, and furniture were flying around the room.
Flare’s arm was aching with the strain of holding both of them. The strain was becoming too much as the winds increased, and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold on.
The disk shimmered and disappeared with a loud pop. In the moment it disappeared, the winds seemed to reverse with equal force. Flare and Cassandra were tossed in the opposite direction, and landed hard on the block floor. He landed first, and Cassandra came down hard on top of him, knocking the breath from his lungs.
The books and the other assorted heavier instruments slammed down hard. The papers settled easier.
They lay there for several moments, breathing hard. He was starting to worry about her, when a low moan escaped her lips.
“What happened?” Cassandra asked.
“You hit your head, so I had to save you.”
“Save me, how?”
“I drove my knife between the cracks in the floor, and used it to hold us away from the disk, until it disappeared. Are you all right?”
Cassandra sat up slowly and touched her head. “My head hurts, but I'll be okay. Thanks to you.” She smiled, and what a smile it was. Right then and there, he was quite sure that her smile had melted men’s hearts before.
“Do you want me to get a healer for you?”
“No. I’ll be fine, but please help me to the bedroom.”
Flare carried the magician to the other door he had noticed earlier. Her bedroom, unlike the outer room, was lavishly decorated. There were thick carpets, beautiful paintings, and a huge bed that rested on a dais in the middle of the room.
The Guardians: Book One of the Restoration Series Page 13