The Caste Marked

by Mariah Esterly

  Doran himself preferred to spend his days in the lists with the soldiers, in the library expanding his mind or in one of the various taverns in Carpius. He had very little to worry about and he liked it that way.

  That was of course until recently. Three years ago, when he was sixteen, the first child had gone missing. In six months ten more had disappeared, stolen from locked house and rooms in the middle of the night. Doran had received the news with a casual air and had thought it more likely the children had run away from home.

  But recently, the disappearances were coming more and more steadily, almost as frequent as one every week. That didn’t include the disappearances that went unreported, mostly in the peasant classes. The fifty that had been reported had been from wealthy merchants, state officials, the landed gentry, knights and so forth. Doran didn’t like to think of just how many children had actually gone missing.

  His father had apparently had the same thought as he had the majority of his mages occupied with finding the culprit. The King himself seemed to be absorbed with the quest, hiding away in his chambers with his most trusted advisors, which Doran certainly was not.

  In fact, it had been nearly a week since he’d seen his father, which was why Doran had been surprised when he’d received a summons from him early that morning. Even more surprising was that the note requested he dress in formal attire and be in the throne room at precisely fifteen minutes after nine.

  Now Doran stood with his brothers behind his father’s throne. They were shoulder to shoulder, ranked in age from oldest to youngest. On Doran’s right, Ronson, only a year and a half older than him, stood, back erect eyes straight forward. Ronson had always been a stickler for decorum and etiquette. Try as he might Doran had never been able to convince him to break the rules.

  Luc, born a surprising nine years after Doran, was the complete opposite of Ronson. Often Doran had to convince his younger brother not to break the rules as he was likely to break his neck in the process. Even now Luc fidgeted to Doran’s left.

  Without turning his head, Doran lifted a hand and placed it on his little brother’s shoulder, reminding Luc that they needed to present a princely attitude to the multitudes of courtiers who lined the throne room.

  Luc looked up at him, his mouth turned down in displeasure. Doran winked. Luc’s glower deepened.

  Doran tried not to grin as the doors to the throne room opened. Almost immediately the courtiers started chattering, in a way that only courtiers could, hushed whispers designed to carry.

  Although normally Doran would have rolled his eyes, this time he couldn’t blame them. Standing framed by the two open doors, stood a dryad.

  Doran had never seen one in person and as she made her way toward the throne, he found it difficult to take his eyes from her face. She was beautiful in an untamed way with her long green hair streaming down her back to swing around hips encased in silky brown fabric. The torch light flickered over her mint green skin, throwing her dark brown eyes into greater relief.

  Doran blinked and found he could look away. Other courtiers, it seemed did not have that ability.

  The dryad glided to a halt in front of the throne. She executed a deep curtsey then straightened. Her wide set eyes never faltered from the king’s face as she spoke. “I am Natesa Sylvandra der Harfina of the Dryadian people in the West.”

  The king bowed his head. “We welcome you, Natesa Sylvandra der Harfina. What has brought you beyond the borders of the Sidonia Wood and to our palace?”

  “I have come on behalf of my mother Melita Tiana der Harfina to beg Your Majesty for aid.”

  Doran’s father paused before speaking. “What aid have you to ask of us?”

  “My sister, Natesa Mhairie der Harfina, was taken from our palace nearly two weeks ago. As you know we have protection spells along the border of our woods. But whatever took her could walk right through the spells. The tracking spells we’ve used have found nothing. We know that you have been conducting your own investigation into these crimes. We humbly request that you share any information you have that might hasten the return of my sister.”

  Doran’s father seemed to consider for a moment before saying. “We would like the throne room cleared, please.” The courtiers grumbled as they were ushered from the room by footmen dressed nearly as well as they themselves were. The king waited until the doors were shut before speaking again.

  “We are humbled that the Dryads would seek our help.” His voice was in no way humble. “Fifty years ago, when our father was new in his position, there was a great war between Iperia and Tournesol. There was a time near the end of the war that it looked as though Iperia might lose the confrontation. My father traveled to the Sidonia Wood to request the aid of the Dryads and their powerful magic. Your mother refused, saying that the worries of man had little to do with the Dryadian people.” Doran tensed knowing what was coming next. Although his father was a thoughtful king when his came to his own people, he was prideful when dealing with others.

  “We must decline to help. The worries of the Dryadian people are no concern of ours. You have had one child go missing, we have had over fifty.”

  The Natesa did not blink. In fact, Doran wasn’t sure if she had blinked once during the entirety of the audience. “I beg you to reconsider. The refusal of help now will result in a feud that none of our people can well handle.”

  The King leaned forward, his fur robes rustling. “My dear, we are already in a feud and our people are handling it just fine.”

  It took all of Doran’s willpower to not speak up. A joint search between the crown of Iperia and the queen of the Dryads would only garner better results. But he knew from experience that his father looked down on any input from his second youngest son. It was the King’s opinion that Doran had little place in the grand scheme of things except perhaps as a bargaining chip in the marriage market.

  Doran watched as the dryad bowed her head once, turned and left the room. She no longer glided, but rather strode, as though she had to leave as quickly as she could, or else she would do something she might regret.

  Knowing that his presence was no longer required Doran winked at Luc again and hurried out the side door that was reserved for the use of the royal family. Vaughn Oren, Doran’s constant companion since he was ten, was waiting on the other side. Without a word, Doran strode down the hall up a flight of stairs and into his suite of rooms.

  Vaughn followed quietly, closed the door behind the fuming prince.

  “Good meeting?” He asked, quirking his mouth up in a half smile.

  Doran paused in his pacing to glower at Vaughn. “I know you heard every word that was spoken in that room.” Vaughn shrugged. “How could he do this? An alliance between us and the dryads could only serve to further our situation, not only in this instance but in future ones as well. We should be striving to improve our relationship with the Dryadian people. It would further commerce. Think if we could open a market for Dryadian wares.”

  “I would love a bow made from Sidonian wood crafted by a Dryadian bowyer.” Doran could hear the longing in his friend and protector’s voice.

  “Exactly! But not only bows. They have access to healing herbs that we don’t. They know magic far more advanced than any of ours. I’ve heard that they can communicate with the trees and ask them to literally pull up their roots and move. Can you imagine having that sort of power on our side in the event of war?”

  Vaughn shrugged again.

  Doran stopped his pacing and looked out the window toward the city. “Her sister must be scared. I can’t imagine what I’d do if Luc was taken. I don’t think anything would keep me from tearing the country apart to find him.” His fist hit the stone window sill. He hated feeling useless and it was a feeling he’d lived with for long enough.

  “I have to do something.” He stated decisively. Looking down into the courtyard he saw the Natesa gathering her things and getting ready to mount up. He hurried out the door, hoping he would be fast enou
gh to catch her. He knew without looking that Vaughn was following, his ever-constant shadow.

  Doran arrived in the courtyard just as the dryad was putting her foot in the stirrup. “Wait!” he called. If she heard him, she chose to ignore him as she climbed onto her horse side saddle.

  Doran hurriedly caught the reins of her horse before she could urge him forward. “Please, wait.”

  “It seems I have no choice.” Her voice was cold.

  Doran quickly let go of her reins and stepped back. “Please, just listen to what I have to say.”

  The dryad looked down at him for a moment and then nodded.

  “I want to help you. If you give me until nightfall I can collect all the information that my father has and bring it to you. You may do with it as you wish.”

  She considered him for a moment, her brown eyes searching his face for any sign of deceit, then nodded again. “I will be at the House of the Lady on Prosper Street. Do you know it?”

  Doran nodded. “I do.”

  “You have until sunset.”

  Doran nodded again and turned to leave. He paused when she called out. “Wait.”

  He faced her again to see genuine gratitude across her strangely beautiful features. “Thank you, Prince Doran.”

  He smiled. “Call me Rian.”

  Getting the information was going to be a bit trickier than Rian had let on. His father’s study was guarded by no less than four guards and at least three different protection spells. There was no way he would be allowed to just walk into the room and help himself to the material he needed.

  Rian and Vaughn returned to his room and sat down to think. “Don’t worry about the guards.” Vaughn said after a moment. “I can deal with them. What we need is help with the protection spells.”

  Rian nodded, his brow furrowed in thought. After a moment, his forehead cleared. “You can ask Aloisa to help.”

  As soon as Rian said the young mage’s name Vaughn was shaking his head. “No, no. I know I’m supposed to do as you command, but I refuse to do that.”

  “You refuse?” Rian moved away from the window and walked toward the man he considered his best friend. “You’re actually going to refuse a direct order from a prince of Iperia?”

  A pained expression crossed Vaughn’s face. “You know that she…”

  Rian placed his hands on Vaughn’s shoulders and gave him a little shake. “I know that she left you for another man. But I also know that she would do anything for you and she won’t tell my father what we’ve done. She can take down the protection spells, copy all the information for us and then put the spells back up. She can do it, considering that she put up the spells.”

  Vaughn was silent, his arms crossed over his chest. Rian knew he was considering his words. Frankly, he didn’t blame Vaughn for not wanting to approach the pretty mage. The departure from their relationship had been rough for them both, and for a time Rian had feared that Vaughn would leave his post just to escape the possibility of seeing Aloisa again. But it had been almost a year ago. It was time for Vaughn to move on.

  “Come on, Vaughn. We can’t do this without her. Think of the little Natesa. She deserves to have the best chance at being found. The best chance is for her sister to have the same information that my father has.”

  He could see the instant that Vaughn gave in. A moment later, he nodded and turned to leave the room. Rian watched him go. He did not envy Vaughn for the situation that he was walking into, but sacrifices were required to achieve the desired result.

  He used the time that Vaughn was gone to change out of his dress suit and into his much more comfortable clothes which consisted of a plain long-sleeved white shirt, soft brown pants and a leather vest studded with silver. He pulled on calf high boots and returned to his sitting room.

  Once there he began to pace up and down his large, well-appointed room. Going over everything he’d heard in the past about the disappearances. The truth was that he hadn’t heard much. Being barred from his father’s advisory meetings had severely hampered the influx of his knowledge on the subject. He imagined that he knew no more, if not less, than the commoner who worked on the street.

  After half an hour Rian had come up with no more answers than he’d had when he started pacing.

  A knock sounded at the door and moments later Vaughn slipped through followed closely by a slim girl of twenty-one with short curly hair the color of honey. She was dressed as all the other guards who patrolled the halls of the palace, in a black leather vest with silver studs, black leather trousers and a crisp white shirt underneath. Only a small band of dark blue around the collar of her vest indicated that she was a mage.

  A sword hung at her hip. Although many men would look at Aloisa’s small stature and laugh at the very thought that she could defend herself, Rian had seen just how quick her sharp blade could be. In fact, he had yet to beat her in a sword fight.

  She bowed deep, murmuring, “Your Highness. Vaughn tells me that you have a job to ask of me. And although he has already outlined it, I feel it necessary to hear you yourself speak the words.”

  Vaughn snorted from where he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed.

  Aloisa turned and glared at him. “You can’t blame me. I mean the whole situation sounds ludicrous. It seems more likely that Vaughn has snapped and is plotting revenge against me.”

  Another snort came from Vaughn’s direction. Rian tried hard not to make a face as well. Vaughn was the least likely person to have a sudden mental break. One would think that the girl he was involved with for two years would know that.

  “I know,” Aloisa’s voice came much softer than it had been. “I know he’s not nuts. But you can’t blame me for raising the question, can you? You want me to break into the King’s private study and steal information from him. It is treason. To what end would you have me do this?”

  Rian nodded and kept his voice level as he told what had happened in the throne room and his promise to Natesa Sylvandra. Aloisa listened intently, her jade green eyes serious. When he’d finished, she ran her fingers through her hair, shaking out the curls then said, “Why would you father do such a thing? Refusing to help the dryads can only solidify the dissonance between our people. He should have been grateful to have been offered the chance to heal the wound of so long ago. Instead, he only made it worse.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “I, for one, would not look forward to war with the Sidonia Wood.”

  Rian nodded. “I know. I am trying to keep that from happening by helping their princess, but to do that I need your help.”

  Aloisa gave him an appraising look. “There’s more to you than I thought, Your Highness. I will help you.”

  It was Rian’s job to keep his father away from his study for as long as possible. In truth, it didn’t really take much. As he, his brothers, his father and all his father’s advisors sat around the table for an early dinner, it became increasingly apparent to Rian that his father was comfortable enough with the supposed stupidity of his younger sons to discuss at great length the situation with the kidnappings.

  Rian, at the far end of the table, with seven people between him and his father, had little hope of hearing anything. He was torn between trying to strain his hearing beyond its natural ability and pretending as though nothing were amiss. The latter won out in the end.

  He pasted a vacant expression on his face, one he’d perfected in the last three years and made idle chatter with Luc, the other disappointment to their father. Rian felt sorry for the nine year old, who still wanted his father’s approval. He had long ago accepted that as the fifth son there was little hope of ascending the throne and so was unworthy of his father’s time. After all, in his father’s eyes the only reason to spend time with his children was to groom them for the throne. The first three sons had that privilege. Ronson tried desperately to gain his father’s approval, but Rian had given up all hope of it. He was nothing more than another pawn for the marriage market.

  As much as Rian h
ated to say it, Luc was even less in his father’s eyes.

  Complications had arisen during Luc’s birth and their mother had passed away. Their father had blamed the small baby for his beloved wife’s death, and as such all but ignored Luc.

  It was something that Rian would never be able to forgive his father for.

  He watched as Luc, pushed food around his plate leaning back in his chair. He bent over and said, “Just a few more minutes of this, then we are released to freedom.”

  Luc grinned up at him and Rian knew that he’d planned something for the afternoon. He was about to ask what sort of mischief his little brother was up to when Luc looked around suddenly and said, “Where’s Vaughn?”

  Rian started in surprise. No one else had noticed that Vaughn was missing. Sometimes he thought that his little brother was far more observant than even he gave him credit for.

  “He’s doing something for me. He should be along shortly.”

  Luc shook his head. “He’s going into father’s study isn’t he, to help the dryad princess.” Rian could tell by Luc’s tone that it wasn’t really a question. “Why wouldn’t Father help her?”

  Rian sighed, and kept his voice low. “He refused to help because the pride of his father was wounded years ago.”

  Luc’s forehead wrinkled as he tried to work it out. “But why does that matter now? Aren’t kids like me in trouble? Shouldn’t that be the most important thing?”

  “I certainly believe so, but I can’t tell father that. He simply wouldn’t listen.”

  “So, you’re helping the dryad princess in the only way you can, by taking the information.”

  Rian considered lying to his brother, telling him that he was doing no such thing and that Vaughn was off buying him some trinket from one of the countless merchants in the city. As he looked into eyes that were so like his own, he found that he couldn‘t. “Right. You can’t tell anyone.”