Sovereign Stone

by David Wells

  “His personal physician is attending to him,” the captain answered. “The Baron is very ill and must not be disturbed.”

  “Captain, you and your men will stand aside or we will enter by force.” Commander Kern was losing his patience. The palace guard tensed and raised their weapons. Clearly they were not willing to abandon their post and permit access to the Baron without orders.

  Alexander stepped forward and put a hand on Commander Kern’s arm to forestall any further threats. When the guard captain saw the blood splatter on Alexander’s face and cloak, his eyes widened and his weapon came up a little higher. Alexander stopped just short of the spear point and leveled his glittering eyes at the man.

  “Captain, you are to be commended for your loyalty to the Baron,” Alexander said, “but you may have allowed him to come to harm even as we speak. May I ask, who does the Baron’s personal physician report to?”

  The captain frowned before he answered, “Administrator Nero. All of the Baron’s affairs are handled by him.”

  Alexander nodded. “Nero is a fraud. He works for Headwater, not Buckwold, and he’s manipulating your entire territory into a war that will cost you dearly. Please, Captain, no more blood needs to be spilled today. I can see that you are a loyal servant of your Baron, but you’ve been duped. Allow us to pass and I give you my word that we will not harm him.”

  The captain looked incredulous. “You’re a stranger covered in blood. Why should your word count for anything?”

  Alexander drew the Thinblade and cut the captain’s spear off a few inches from his forward hand, then pointed his blade at him. The captain looked at the clean cut across his spear haft, then at the Thinblade, and his eyes widened.

  “I am the King of Ruatha. Do you recognize this blade from the old stories?”

  He nodded. His men stood stock-still, staring at the Thinblade.

  “I give you my word that we will not harm the Baron,” Alexander said. “Now, stand aside or I will add your blood to the stains on my cloak.”

  The captain considered the situation for a moment, all the while looking at the impossibly thin blade pointed at him. Then he nodded. “Stand down,” he said over his shoulder to his guard force. They obeyed and Alexander sheathed his sword.

  “Open the door,” Alexander commanded.

  The captain blinked. “I can’t. It’s barred from the inside. We can knock, but the physician is the only one with the authority to permit entry.”

  “Very well, then,” Alexander said, “knock and ask him to open the door.”

  The captain knocked loudly. There was no answer. He knocked again and still there was no answer. Finally, after several minutes of insistent pounding, a small window opened. An angry-looking man peered out at the guard and those behind him.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he snapped grumpily. “The Baron is not to be disturbed. He’s very ill and you’ve woken him from a much-needed rest.”

  The captain looked nervously back to Alexander and Kern. Both of them nodded for him to continue.

  “Open the door. The Baron has guests who will not be denied an audience.”

  The man behind the door looked indignant. “I am the Baron’s personal physician. He is not well. Go away!” He punctuated his statement by slamming the little window.

  “Captain,” Alexander said, “describe the locks and the bar holding this door shut.”

  The captain blinked for a moment before answering. “There’s a bar across the doors here,” he motioned across the double doors at about chest height, “and pins on each door that slide into holes in the floor.”

  “Thank you. Now stand aside,” Alexander said, drawing his sword.

  First he slipped the blade under the door and ran it across the two metal pins. He could feel just a slight tug of resistance as the Thinblade passed cleanly through the half-inch steel rods. Then he slipped the blade into the crack between the two doors and ran it up through the bar, cutting it neatly in two. He sheathed his sword and pushed the double doors open.

  The room beyond was a well-appointed entry hall with corridors leading off to the other rooms in the comfortable suite.

  “Commander, have your men secure the chambers and detain the staff,” Alexander said. “I suspect that Nero will be coming with more men soon. We may need some time to speak with the Baron.”

  The soldiers quickly pried the sheared pins from the holes in the floor so the locking pins could be used again and then barred the door with half of the cleanly cut bar. The palace guard looked on as they were once again locked out of the Baron’s chambers.

  Kern’s men were quick, thorough, and efficient. There were no soldiers within the Baron’s suites, just serving staff and the physician with his assistants. They protested loudly but obeyed when the soldiers showed them steel. Within minutes, the entire suite was searched, all the staff were detained under guard in a large sitting room, and the Baron was found sleeping deeply in his bedchamber.

  Alexander could see at a glance that something was very wrong. His colors were twisted and tortured. There was a quality to his aura that Alexander had seen before. It took him a moment to place it.

  “Lucky, his colors look like those surrounding the deathwalker root,” Alexander said.

  Lucky nodded and went to the Baron’s side. He was an older man with white hair all in a tangle from sleep. He looked frail, like someone who’d been bedridden for too long. Lucky smelled his breath and looked at his eyes before nodding.

  “They’ve been feeding him a tincture made from deathwalker root. A skilled herbalist would be able to keep him in a stupor indefinitely with regularly administered doses, but it’s very dangerous; too much and his heart could easily stop in the night.”

  “Can you do anything for him?” Alexander asked.

  “The most important thing we can do is prevent him from taking any more. I can make a tea that will cleanse his system and drive the toxin out more quickly, but ultimately, time is the best medicine.”

  “How long before he’s conscious and aware?”

  Lucky shook his head while he thought it over. “A day, maybe more; he has a lot in his system and it will take time to flush out.”

  Alexander nodded, “Stay with him and do what you can. I’m going to talk with that physician.”

  “Wait,” Commander Kern said, “are you saying he’s been poisoned?”

  Lucky nodded, “Essentially, yes, but not with lethal doses. It looks more like they wanted him alive but incapacitated.”

  Kern flushed with anger. “Nero has been running things since Baron Buckwold fell ill. He’s orchestrated this whole thing to get Buckwold fighting for Headwater.”

  Alexander nodded with a humorless grin. “Yes, but he’s failed. Now he’ll pay for his crimes.”

  Abigail and Isabel came into the room in a rush. “We have a problem,” Isabel said.

  Chapter 16

  “There’s a company-sized force of palace guards massing in the south courtyard,” Abigail said.

  “How easily can they get in?” Alexander asked.

  “This level is a good twenty feet off the ground with a balcony on three sides,” Isabel said. “There are no stairs and the only way in is the one we came through, but they have ladders.”

  “We need more time,” Alexander said with exasperation. “If they attack, can we hold them off?”

  Abigail and Isabel shook their heads in unison.

  Jack cleared his throat. Alexander turned to him with a little grin at the bard’s familiar mannerism. “You have a suggestion, Jack?”

  “Perhaps a ruse,” Jack said. “Commander Kern, would the palace guard attack if they believed we were holding the Baron hostage?”

  Commander Kern looked mildly shocked at the suggestion. The idea of holding his Baron hostage was something he had never considered but he answered nonetheless. “If they thought we would kill him, they would attempt to negotiate. Their first duty is the protection of the Buckwold family.”r />
  Alexander chuckled, “It would certainly buy us the time we need. Any objections?”

  Commander Kern looked distraught. “Lord Alexander, I’ve served Buckwold my whole life. I can’t hold the Baron hostage.”

  “It’s just a ruse,” Alexander said. “We have no intention of harming him, just using the threat to buy him time to wake up. Once he’s awake, he can make up his own mind.”

  “Do you give me your word that you won’t harm him?” Kern asked.

  Alexander considered for a moment. “If he decides he wants to be my friend, then I will not harm him in any way, but if he chooses to be my enemy, then we’re at war. I’ll leave that decision to him.”

  Kern looked trapped by indecision. Jack stepped in and offered a nudge.

  “Commander Kern, is the status quo acceptable? As it stands now, your entire territory is being played like a puppet by a liar and a traitor. Your Baron has been poisoned, and you are on the brink of a war that will not serve your people. Lord Alexander offers you the chance to restore your Baron’s health and with it his authority over Buckwold.”

  Commander Kern deflated a bit. “It would seem that I have to choose between a bad choice and a worse choice.” He considered for only a moment more. “Very well, your ruse will prevent a battle and give the Baron time to recover. How should we proceed?”

  “We should have a demand of some kind,” Anatoly said. “Hostage takers usually want something in exchange for the hostages. Might as well make it look authentic.”

  Alexander almost laughed when the thought came to him. “We’ll demand that Commander Kern’s legion be recalled immediately in exchange for the release of the Baron.”

  “That would certainly give them something to think about, but Nero will never recall the legion,” Kern said. “In fact, I’d wager that he’s already sent a new commander to take my place.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, but it won’t matter because we just need enough time for the Baron to wake up,” Alexander said. He looked around for any other objections.

  “I just hope the Baron will hear you out once he awakens,” Anatoly said, “or we could be in a tight spot.”

  “I’m willing to risk it,” Alexander said. “Anatoly, Abigail, can you do an assessment of our tactical situation just in case Nero decides to order an attack? We’ll go make our demands, and then I want to talk to the Baron’s physician.”

  Alexander went to the entry hall with Isabel, Jack, and Commander Kern. He could hear soldiers milling about outside, so he carefully opened the little window in the door. When he saw the guard captain, he called him over.

  “Captain, we’re holding the Baron hostage,” Alexander said. “You will relay my demands to the person in command. Is that understood?”

  Betrayal, humiliation, and anger played out across his face. “You gave me your word the Baron wouldn’t be harmed,” he said indignantly.

  “Captain,” Alexander snapped, “he will not be harmed, provided my demands are met. The legion formerly led by Commander Kern is to return to Buckwold. When it arrives, the Baron will be released; otherwise he will be killed. Do you understand my demands, Captain?”

  The young officer stared back with hate in his eyes. “I understand,” he spat at Alexander before he turned and strode off to deliver the message.

  Alexander closed the little window. “If Nero orders an attack, will the palace guard obey?” he asked Kern.

  He thought it over for a moment. “I doubt the rank and file will, but I don’t know how many of the palace guard are loyal to Nero.”

  Alexander nodded. “We have to be vigilant. Nero would probably prefer that the Baron die in this confrontation. That way he can blame me and rally the people of Buckwold against Ruatha. Go tell your men to expect an assassin.”

  Commander Kern suddenly looked worried. “This is a dangerous game, Lord Alexander.”

  “Commander Kern, war is the most dangerous game there is,” Alexander said. “When you’re done, meet us in the Baron’s bedchamber.”

  Alexander, Isabel, and Jack went to the sitting room where the staff was being detained.

  “What if the court has a wizard?” Isabel asked quietly along the way.

  Alexander looked at her sharply. “That would be a problem. We’ll ask Kern about it.”

  They stopped at the threshold of the room. Six of Kern’s soldiers stood along the walls, watching the eight people sitting fearfully in the center of the room. He appraised their colors and only one stood out from the others.

  The physician had magic.

  Alexander’s hackles raised a bit. He couldn’t tell from the colors what the physician’s calling was, but his level of power was less than that of a wizard.

  “Sergeant,” Alexander said to the squad leader, “bind that man and bring him into the other room.”

  The sergeant motioned for two of his soldiers to tie the man’s hands behind his back and walk him into the next room.

  “See to it that the rest of these people are treated well,” Alexander said over his shoulder.

  The soldiers sat the man down and Alexander appraised him for a long moment before he spoke.

  “Are you a sorcerer or have you survived the mana fast?” he asked.

  The physician looked startled at the question but regained his composure quickly. He was a medium man in almost every respect: average height and build with medium-length, very ordinary brown hair; eyes of the most common shade of brown; and a round, soft-looking face.

  He looked up defiantly at Alexander without a word. Alexander sighed and drew his sword. He held it close to the man’s face.

  “You will answer my questions or I will have no further use for you.” Alexander fixed him with his glittering eyes.

  He looked from Alexander to Isabel to Jack and found no help. He swallowed hard and nodded tightly. “I’m a sorcerer,” he said.

  Alexander sheathed his sword.

  “What magic are you capable of?”

  The man hesitated for a moment with a furtive glance at the Thinblade. “I can make myself look like another person if I’ve seen them before.”

  Alexander and Isabel shared a look before she took up the line of questioning. Alexander stepped back and watched his colors. Jack stood silently in the background observing intently.

  “Did you pose as the Baron to give Nero authority over the affairs of Buckwold?” she asked.

  He squirmed for a moment before he answered. “Yes, but it was Nero and Rake that made me do it. I didn’t want to.”

  Alexander watched the subtle shift in his aura as he gave up the pretense, and the weight of the burden of deceit sloughed off his conscience.

  Isabel frowned. “How did they make you do it?”

  “Well,” he hesitated, “they threatened me.”

  Alexander saw he was still hiding something. “Was that all?”

  He looked down and spoke very softly. “Rake also promised to pay me a thousand gold sovereigns.”

  “Besides Nero, who else is involved?” Isabel asked.

  “Just a couple dozen men in the palace guard. Mostly soldiers Nero brought on staff to help him with security.”

  “Aside from enlisting Buckwold’s aid, was there anything else Nero was doing that we might like to know about?” she asked.

  “Not that I know of, but they didn’t tell me everything.”

  Isabel looked at Alexander and shrugged.

  “Just one last thing,” Alexander said, “let me see you change into someone else.”

  “All right. But it takes a few minutes. Who do you want me to look like?”

  “How about me,” Alexander said.

  The man stared at Alexander very intently for several long seconds and then started whispering a chant over and over again. After a couple of minutes, his appearance very abruptly shifted and Alexander saw himself sitting in the chair in front of him. It was a remarkable likeness, but the physician couldn’t disguise his aura. There was a distorte
d quality to the man’s colors that revealed he was masking his true appearance. That was what Alexander was hoping for. He nodded his approval. They left the man alone in the room and closed the door.

  “We’ve got to do something about him,” Isabel said. “He’s way too dangerous. There’s no telling what kind of trouble he could cause.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Alexander said. “I’d feel a lot better if he was unconscious. I’m going to stay here and keep an eye on him. You two go get Lucky and have him bring some deathwalker root. Jack, I’d like you to stay with the Baron while Lucky’s away from him.”

  They hurried off. Alexander opened the door to find that the man looked like himself again. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, and watched the man until Isabel returned with Lucky.

  “Isabel told me about our friend here,” Lucky said. “I think your instincts are correct.” He fished around in his bag and produced a tin cup, then a water skin, and finally a jar of deathwalker-root flowers. He quickly mixed enough tincture to make the man sleep for a good eight hours.

  The physician watched intently with a bit of fear.

  “I think I’ll rest easier if you’re out cold. Drink up,” Alexander said.

  The man tried to resist but they held his head back, pinched his nose, and poured the tincture down his throat. In ten minutes he was asleep. They tied his hands and feet and laid him down on the floor, then posted two guards with orders not to open the door for anyone unless Alexander was present.

  They returned to the Baron’s bedchamber to find Anatoly and Abigail looking worried as they discussed their tactical situation with Commander Kern.

  “We’re surrounded by about three hundred soldiers,” Anatoly reported. “They’re well armed and well trained. If they attack, we won’t be able to hold them off.”

  “I saw Nero with General Randal on the far side of the courtyard,” Abigail said. “It looked like they were making plans. Alexander, I doubt we have long before they come for us.”

  “It looks like they have a battering ram in the hall outside the door,” Anatoly added. “They’ll probably come through the door and up ladders from the courtyard at the same time.”