by Sigrid Kraft
Raiden joked: “Apart from Lady Chrystell. She has only been here for two days and is already driving me up the wall.”
Danian was astonished: “She is in Naganor? Amazing! I thought you had a kind of non-aggression pact and agreed to steer clear of each other!”
Prince Raiden replied wearily: “Yes, now you see how worthless such political contracts are. They melt faster than ice in the sun. She is here on the pretext of finding a suitor for Estell, and I am to decide that. You know my honest view on marriage, and I know little about sons of the nobility and who should be considered. What would you do in my place, wise King?”
Danian laughed a little. “I’m not wise, I just try to do the right thing. Estell is still young though. There is plenty of time for such matters, surely.”
“Exactly what I said,” Raiden interjected, as Danian continued: “Perhaps put on a grand tournament and see which nobles are interested? That narrows the choice down, and also gives you the chance to see the men for yourself.”
Not a bad idea. A tournament also takes time to prepare and could not happen for a few months at the earliest. A year would be even better. That would give me plenty of time to think the matter over. Or delay it at least.
Danian did not let up: “Can I count on you? Will you send the Guard?”
You scratch my back... “Yes, well, in return for your advice. I will dispatch them through the gate tomorrow. There is another gate by Wyvernwall, so the men will be there quickly, and you can sleep soundly. Lord Danwick Durin can provide their quarters.”
Raiden watched in the mirror as Danian nodded in agreement. “I am secretly increasing troop numbers everywhere and have a lot of men in position in Urus. My gut instinct tells me we will be drawn into the conflict.”
My brother the King is very anxious.
“Danian, I didn’t know you had the gift of foresight,” Raiden teased, and Danian countered:
“It is only, dear brother, kingly intuition and awareness of political intrigue.”
“The darkest magic of all...” reasoned Raiden before saying goodbye.
Once the Prince was roused, he acted quickly and with determination. He first contacted Lord Danwick, who seemed less than happy to be accommodating half the Black Guard and in such a hurry, too. Sir Danwick could at least feign more enthusiasm, the Prince thought, before preparing the Guard to march. He mustered three hundred men: The mage’s Company and two regulars – that is, the second and fifth companies.
I can send the cavalry companies later. What difference will a week make anyway? The civil war is not going to break out tomorrow.
There aren’t many mages in my service who can send others through a gate. So getting three hundred men through will probably take all day tomorrow.
Prince Raiden then gave Master Calwas instructions and sent for Lord Boron.
The Prince hoped to eat supper in silence. It had been a long and arduous day, and the last thing he needed now was more of his wife’s nagging. The meal began very quietly and he almost dared hope that Lady Chrystell had run out of complaints. No sooner had she finished eating, however, than she picked up where she had left off:
“It is an absolute affront that you assigned that man to stand guard.”
What’s happened now? “Hmmm?” the Prince mumbled with his mouth full.
Lady Chrystell’s voice went up an octave when she was upset. “Have you not noticed that he looks just like you and even has the same voice?”
“He has no business talking. A bodyguard’s job is to keep watch and not talk.”
The Prince cast a glance at Eryn and Ravenor. Those two are blameless in my eyes.
Her Ladyship’s shrill voice rang in his ears again. “If I ask him something, he has to answer! And when I ordered him to take off his helmet, my first thought was that you were playing some awful joke and had dressed up like a guard.”
“Coincidence. Some people look like me. Big deal!”
This was too casual and irritated Lady Chrystell even more. “I don’t deserve such treatment. It is an insult to parade it before me. I am a Princess of Gelderon and... deserve better!”
Tears shone in her eyes. Prince Raiden could not tell if her embarrassment was real or merely feigned, but he knew he had had enough – more than enough!
“Ravenor, you are dismissed from your duty. Report back to the garrison immediately!”
“Yes, my Prince.” Ravenor did not need telling twice, but Eryn was unhappy to remain alone.
“And who ensures Estell’s safety now, Husband?”
Does this never end? “This is a farce. No one needs guarding in Naganor. It is safe! But if it makes you happy, I will order that soldier to waste his time guaranteeing your health and safety. I hope you’re satisfied!”
Angrily, he snatched up his wine glass, but the magical warning spell told him to be wary of its contents.
He looked more closely and saw that a strong love potion had been added to the wine.
Interesting. She’s trying to entice me into bed. Either I rid myself of my wife through some “tragedy,” as many other desperate noblemen have done before me, or I dull my senses with this brew.
Raiden hesitated and checked the liquid in the glass cup once more, finding nothing but the violet addition. So he put his doubts to one side and brought the glass to his lips, draining it in one draught. The world began to change, and he floated on a mood of delighted contentment and relaxed desire. Supper was soon over, and shortly afterwards Prince Raiden found himself with Lady Chrystell upstairs in his bedroom. She nagged away as usual, but he was not listening. His hands were skillfully removing her dress, while his eyes admired the perfection beneath. Her bony body, drooping breasts and the deep wrinkles on her face - all exactly as it should be.
I can end the spell any time I want, the Prince thought, but he abandoned that plan and allowed himself to be carried away by a wave of excruciating joy.
The troops had been going through the gate since first light and, as ever, Lady Chrystell was moaning about the unacceptable state of affairs. “I can barely take a step without falling over a soldier.”
Prince Raiden retorted: “My dear, you should be glad that the Guard is leaving to help your cousin, noble King Vicerion of Gelderon.”
Lady Chrystell had to have the last word of course, and she was convinced that: “Cousin Vicerion is very able to manage the situation on his own. Gelderon is a much larger country than Ardeen, and Lord Berington has only a handful of men compared to the King’s superior forces.”
Ah, so soon! Yesterday she thought exactly the opposite. The potion’s effect had almost worn off, which made him susceptible to her nagging again and brought back the usual anger.
As soon as Lord Boron arrived at Wyvernwall, he had problems with Lord Durin, who had done very little to provide quarters for the men. There was nothing for it but to report to the Prince, commandeer suitable houses and muster all the available horses.
Lord Durin protested, but could do no more.
Once the mages were through the gate, Lord Boron sent them off in all directions to gather information. Each worthy mage was accompanied by an escort of unmagical men.
With a lot of things on his mind, Lord Boron rushed along the Wyvernwall corridors and almost collided with Lord Hochwitz, who was visiting the castle as the King of Gelderon’s ambassador. They endured a stilted conversation, in which Lord Hochwitz mentioned that he had been Lord Durin’s guest in Wyvernwall for two days now. The Gray Wolf responded with a platitude, keeping his true thoughts well hidden.
There’s a Gelderon rat sneaking around Wyvernwall, and Sir Durin hasn’t thought it necessary to inform the Prince yet. I am slowly coming to the conclusion that Lord Durin is lazy and incompetent, particularly as Lord Hochwitz is here in the name of his King, trying to find out how Ardeen will react to the threat of conflict.
A few hours later the Gray Wolf met Lord Hochwitz again. And now to business! The Gelderon Lord subtly tried to
find what it would cost for Ardeen to consider supporting Gelderon with troops. They were seated on opposite sides of a small map-table and the conversation was tortuous.
Lord Hochwitz is slippery and talks sweetly to move things in his direction, but I am a man of action, and it is in my nature to distrust gabbling diplomats. I took against Lord Hochwitz the moment I saw him.
Lord Hochwitz would only reveal snippets of information, so the Gray Wolf had to ask for more military detail on more than one occasion. Lord Hochwitz described the situation:
“The King is gathering his men in Tworivers, because we think Lord Berington intends to take the city.”
This is very surprising. If Lord Berington wants to win a civil war, he would be much more likely to march towards Halonhall than to take an unimportant city far from the capital. Lord Boron refused to believe this and said as much: “Would it not make more sense to secure the capital? If Halonhall surrenders, the rebels have won the war.”
Lord Hochwitz took a different view, however: “The insurgent Berington does not consider himself strong enough yet to strike at the heart of Gelderon. Look, I will show you the alliances on this map.”
Several maps of various sizes lay atop one another, and Lord Hochwitz picked a large-scale map and indicated with his fingertip.
“This region is sympathetic to the traitors. Our informants tell us that Lord Berington intends to take control of the trade routes to the west. That would be a damaging blow to the kingdom, and it is why Tworivers is such an important place, particularly as the town is less well-fortified than others. Despite its site on the River Sarekant, the rebels can travel quickly from north to south directly before the city walls.” Lord Hochwitz relayed further unimportant details and embellished his speech with flourishes, but Lord Boron was not being given important information such as the number and kind of troops. He felt Lord Hochwitz was holding back, so finally he asked a direct question: “How many rebels are we actually speaking of? And you can surely give me details of the rebels’ current location. If you really want Ardeen to support you militarily, such information is vital. As I’ve already mentioned, I’m interested in facts, not hypotheses.”
Lord Hochwitz’ smile did not appear genuine:
“I try to think ahead, that’s all. If you prefer numbers though, I certainly won’t keep them from you. Tworivers is now manned by a thousand men loyal to the King, with more troops on the way. My information on the rebels is unverified. I have vague estimates of Lord Berington’s troops: A thousand men, north of the Sarekant still, near his ancestral seat at Braithall. I cannot give any more information, as I do not have it, and the situation could have changed while I’ve been traveling.”
This blabbermouth talks too much and knows too little. I had better trust my own sources. With my men already out there, I will soon be up to speed with the current situation.
Lord Boron was truly relieved when the meeting with Lord Hochwitz was over.
Lord Boron reported back to Prince Raiden that evening via an artifact. Afterwards the Prince spoke with his brother, and Danian described the developments at the highest political levels. King Vicerion had officially requested military assistance, so the Black Guard could advance to Tworivers without delay. Yet the brothers agreed that the Guard should remain in Wyvernwall for the time being, to wait and observe how the situation would develop.
At supper, Prince Raiden once again accepted Lady Chrystell’s clandestine proposal. He drank the relaxing potion of delight to regain the feeling of deep inner content. The brew also dulled his mind somewhat but not too much. He thought it a good moment to mention to Lady Chrystell his intention of holding a tournament, without saying the idea came from Danian. Not that it mattered: Lady Chrystell could think of a hundred reasons against the proposal.
“Such tournaments are little better than a parade of bulls at a cattle market. The very suggestion of such an event strikes me as vulgar.”
That settles it. I won’t change my mind even under the potion’s influence. Perhaps it was indeed the potion that helped Prince Raiden stand his ground: “As always, you come up with a convincing counterargument, dear Wife, but the decision has been made.”
Lady Chrystell tried to persuade him, but the Prince remained steadfast until his Lady gave in. In the aftermath of such a dismal rout, Lady Chrystell changed the subject:
“It will happen as you desire, my husband. One other thing - are you thinking of leaving for the Gelderon border, now that your Guard has already gone?”
Is that really anxiety I can hear in her voice? “I have yet to decide.”
To be honest, I don’t really intend to. Those squabbles in Gelderon are of no interest to me, and I already think that Danian is making too much fuss about them.
Master Eriwen had been heading north with a small company for a few days now. Their order was to find out where Lord Berington and his men really were at the present time.
Why are Gelderon scouts so incompetent and unable to produce reliable information?
It was a cool morning with dew glittering like silver in the rising sun. The River Sarekant could not be far away – and there it was! The dark green water meandered through the picturesque landscape.
As they approached the banks of the river, Master Eriwen reined his horse to a stop. It was probably too soon to rest, but Master Eriwen had no intention of resting. He wanted to scan the river magically on both sides. The horses were not averse to a little feasting on the lush green grass, and the men of his escort dozed in the sun.
Only the mage was busy, following the river as far as he could with a magical eye. He first scanned towards the south, but found nothing there apart from a fisherman throwing out his nets.
Then he sent the eye northward. His magic was strong enough to send his eye about half a day’s ride ahead. A river was always a good opportunity to spot an army. It created a bottleneck where soldiers had to cross with boats, over a bridge or through a ford, all of which took time. This made it easier to discover the troops.
Master Eriwen’s eye had wandered far north and the view had already started to grow dim. He was close to the point when the picture would vanish completely, when something suddenly attracted his attention. Figures moving in the mist. I need to make sure.
So Master Eriwen ordered the escort to mount and they headed north for a few more miles. The mage then scanned again and now he saw it: armor reflected the sunlight, as steeds and knights snaked in a long line over the river, followed by wagons and foot soldiers. The retinue seemed endless and there were also a large number of the soldiers waiting to cross.
So. Lord Berington has only a thousand men? I can see perhaps five times as many here. This is not good news.
Master Eriwen passed the information on to Lord Boron immediately, then headed further north, closer to the enemy army. He stopped on a small hill and watched Lord Berington’s soldiers from a safe distance.
They are heading west along the edge of the forest. Master Eriwen scratched his head, pondering the situation. Trees always make for a good defensive position in case of attack. So I imagine Lord Berington will use that to his advantage before turning south towards Tworivers.
Meanwhile Raiden waited in his tower, hoping to avoid being drawn into it all. Two days had passed and the King of Gelderon was begging for urgent military support in return for a substantial sum of money. King Vicerion wanted the Guard to supplement his men at Tworivers, and he brought this up whenever he spoke with King Danian. Danian then passed this on to his brother, and they considered which further steps to take, especially as Lord Berington was still moving westwards and had not shown any intention to head south as yet.
So the Guard stayed in their quarters at Wyvernwall, and Raiden surrendered once more to the sweet potion. Lady Chrystell must have paid dearly for that. What on earth moved my wife to do such a deed - bewitching me with a love potion?
With absolute self-confidence, he came to the conclusion:
; Because I’m that damn good in bed! And that’s what all women want: a real stallion. Even a touchy specimen like my dear wife.
He climbed the stairs with a smug smile.
Lady Chrystell had already held the dark phial between her fingertips on several occasions, but she had been unable to bring herself to actually use it. Once again she was considering the little flagon pensively.
No, I can’t wait any longer. It all depends on this. Raiden won’t notice. He will just think it’s the violet magic again and he’s already swallowed that bait more than once. So why do I find it so difficult, after all he has done to me? The countless affairs he doesn’t even try to hide. Everyone knows about them and makes fun of me.
Every joke was a further blow to her wounded vanity.
The Prince never loved me: that’s for sure. And he never made a serious attempt to get to know me. My father said I should marry him for the sake of peace with Ardeen, but this dubious peace means nothing to me. Even Raiden’s magic won’t be enough to cure this poison. Once it has been in his veins for a few hours, he will be done for. And without its fearsome mage, the great Prince Raiden, Ardeen is a rather weak country.
Lady Chrystell descended to the hall at first light and ordered the servants around. When she was alone in the room, she opened the phial and poured the contents into Raiden’s wine glass. Then she took the second phial and added the violet potion. She looked at the result.
All seems... rather normal.
A little later they all sat together at breakfast. Lady Chrystell made the usual frivolous conversation so as not to arouse any suspicion, and her husband did not suspect a thing.