Karvik and Stavin helped each other out of their armor, then Stavin led the way into the bathing room. The tub was every bit as large as the one in his suite in Twin Bridges, and already filled with steaming hot water.
Karvik tested the water and said, “Hot enough,” as he stripped off his under-padding and then climbed in. Stavin had stripped as well, but he brought his under-padding with him. He rinsed it out first, then put it aside to drain a bit.
Stavin chuckled as he glanced at his armor. “Dragon-scale cloth is so much more convenient than wool or even cotton. Too bad it can’t be duplicated.”
“Maybe so, but maybe not,” Karvik said as he looked at his friend. “Imagine how many washer-women it’d put out of work.”
Stavin nodded as he started washing himself. He and Karvik traded the favor of washing each other’s backs, then got out and dressed in their armor again. Stavin had convinced Lord General Zel’Kordil to issue each guardsman two sets of under-padding so Karvik had a clean set as well. Once they were armored up, they left the suite feeling and smelling much better than when they entered.
Varik met them at the entry to the common room. “We kept the table occupied, Prince Stavin. Sergeant Zel’Fordan’s team cleaned up when you did and is on watch.”
“Well done, Var,” Stavin said as he passed.
“Take your men to clean up and try to get some rest. You take the watch again after mid night,” Karvik added.
“Yes, Sir,” Varik replied with a bow, then turned away and signaled his men to follow him.
Sergeant Zel’Fordan stepped up to Karvik and bowed. “My team has the watch, and your team is standing by, Sir.”
“Very well, Sergeant. You know the drill: Let one Chosen lord or lady through at a time unless they are together.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The first of the Chosen to approach Stavin was indeed a married couple. “Lord Avelin and Lady Alissa Zel’Fallon,” the sergeant announced then stepped aside.
Stavin bowed his head and said, “Welcome.”
“Prince Stavin,” Lady Alissa began in a high, sharp voice, “your guardsmen are very rude and need to be reminded of their place.”
Stavin sat in silence for a moment as he considered his reply. He looked her in the eye and said, “Sergeant Zel’Fordan is the second son of Lord Cavael Zel’Fordan, the Lord of Zel’Fordan in Evandia. He is also a direct descendant of Lady Marydyth Ne’Karyn Zel’Fordan, more commonly known in the legends as Mary Death. His place, as a Royal Guardsman, is one he knows very well: it is between me and you. You may go.”
“Now wait a moment,” her husband objected, “that wasn’t what…”
Stavin interrupted him before he really got going. “I have limited time, Lord Avelin. It was announced that I would only be addressing one concern of each visitor, and I have done so. Good evening to you both.” Turning his attention to the sergeant, he nodded once.
Another guardsman stepped forward and said, “This way, Lord and Lady Zel’Fallon. And before you ask, my name is Kavin Zel’Hestel.”
The next visitor was an elderly lady with thick white hair and a very wicked grin on her face when she bowed to Stavin. “Nicely done, Prince Stavin. I am Sahrana Zel’Aniston, Lady of Zel’Aniston.”
Stavin had sat bolt upright as soon as Lady Sahrana said her name. “Zel’Aniston, Lady? I have never met anyone from the Chosen Clan of Aniston before.”
Her smile deepened as she replied, “Now you have, Prince Stavin Ne’Aniston Zel’Andral. Aniston, the estate and town, lays twelve spans by carriage to the east on the high road. I invite you to come visit the land of your ancestors whenever you wish. We have all been curious about you since we first heard a song about the Dragonblessed warrior Stavin Kel’Aniston.”
Stavin stood and bowed deeply to her before replying, “Lady Zel’Aniston, as soon as I have discharged my duty to Evandia, I shall visit Aniston.” She bowed in return, then smiled and turned away without another word.
Karvik looked at Stavin and raised his eyebrows. “That’s interesting. Good thing we’re not on a tight schedule. Add a day to our itinerary?”
Stavin tilted his head to the side and said, “Add two. I’d hate to have to rush.” Karvik nodded as Sergeant Zel’Fordan brought the next Chosen lord forward.
The night was, as predicted, a late one. A steady stream of Chosen lords and ladies filed by, most taking just a few moments, but there always seemed to be another waiting.
When the mid night bell rang, Stavin stood and addressed the crowd. “Lords and Ladies of Zel’Kassel, I thank you for your greeting, but the hour grows late. I wish you all a pleasant night.” With that he left the room followed by shouts and groans of disappointment.
Karvik was, as always, at his side. “Middle of the night and the room is still full. I guess none of them have to get up in the morning.”
“Probably not,” Stavin agreed, “but we do.” A huge yawn punctuated his remark. “I’m going to hate dawn.”
As he had during the entire trip, Karvik shared the royal suite with Stavin. He closed and locked the door behind them, then checked the windows. Per his orders, there was a guardsman outside each of them. Satisfied for the moment, he and Stavin stripped out of their plate armor as well as they could, then helped each other with those buckles that were always hard to reach.
Royal suites always had more than one bed, and Stavin had already picked out his, but it wasn’t the big royal bed. Karvik walked over and shook his head. “A servant’s bed again, Stave?”
Stavin jerked his head toward the big bed. “I’d feel lost in that thing.”
“Do you mind?”
“Sleep there if you want, Kar. It looks like it’s big enough that your feet won’t stick out.” He finished with a grin and Karvik laughed in return. Karvik was so tall that his feet normally extended well past the end of average-sized beds.
Chapter 2
THE NIGHT WAS QUIET EXCEPT FOR the comforting sounds of the men on watch. Then a new sound filtered into the room: the sound of a crowing cock out in the inn yard.
“Gods Below, it can’t be dawn already,” Stavin grumbled.
Then one of the Guardsmen outside the window pounded on it as he shouted, “Fire!”
A hand immediately started pounding on the other window and the call was repeated. “Fire! Prince Stavin, Major Kel’Carin, fire! The inn’s on fire!”
Stavin and Karvik both rolled out of bed and armored up, then grabbed their weapons. Karvik had inherited his father’s sword, but Stavin was armed with his own Dragon’s Tongue.
“Behind me, Stave!” Karvik commanded, and Stavin obeyed. They were both well aware that a fire at a royal inn meant an attack against a royal guest.
Varik and six guardsmen met them in the hall. “The fire is in the front,” he reported, “so I have our men clearing a path out the back.”
“Good thought Var,” Karvik noted, “but Stavin is going out the side. Be ready for an attack at the back of the inn.”
“Yes, Sir,” Varik replied, then turned away.
“How are we going out the side?” Stavin asked as he looked up at Karvik.
Karvik grinned at his prince and nodded toward the weapon in his hands. “Feel like doing a little carpentry, Stave?” His grin got Stavin laughing, and a moment later the inn had acquired a new side door.
Stavin led the way and dropped to a crouch in a shadow as soon as his feet touched the ground. Karvik was only a heart-beat behind him. Once they were both ready, Karvik led the way toward the back of the inn.
Varik and all thirty-two of the guardsmen were in a standing battle against a large number of men. Stavin immediately started forward, but Karvik held him back. “No, Stave. They don’t need us.”
A blinding flash of light sent five guardsmen flying, and Stavin growled, “Yes they do,” as he started forward at a dead run toward the spot the magebolt had come from. Another magebolt met him as soon as he broke cover, but if the attackers thought he wou
ld be vulnerable to a surprise attack, they were sorely disappointed.
Stavin hit the mage first, taking his head off with a sweep that ended in the chest of another man. His bottom blade arched up to gut a third man, then Karvik killed the fourth with a sword-stroke that nearly beheaded him.
Stavin and Karvik turned toward the main fight, but the attackers had fled as soon as the mage fell. Karvik shouted, “Lieutenant Kel’Horval, report!”
Varik walked over with his sword still in his hand. “Sir, we were attacked as soon as we came out of the inn. I’d guess there were about fifty of them, but they weren’t warriors.”
Stavin looked at Varik’s sword and asked, “How many, Var?”
Varik’s mouth twisted into a sour grimace. “Just two, Stave. I’m never going to earn a star.”
Stavin shared an amused grin with Karvik. Because of the Kel’Kavin traditions, the Evandian Royal Guard had added stars and stripes to their uniforms. Varik only wore one red stripe and four white on his left shoulder to supplement the lieutenant’s insignia on his breast.
“That’s ten kills, Var. One more and you get your second red stripe,” Karvik pointed out as he slapped Varik’s shoulder.
Varik shook his head sadly. “Six expeditions and not even two red stripes,” he said with a groan.
Stavin and Karvik both laughed and headed toward where the rest of the Royal Guardsmen had gathered. Karvik looked at his men and said, “Report.”
Sergeant Zel’Fordan snapped to attention and said, “Two wounded, no dead, Sir. Nineteen enemy dead and five wounded.”
“Add four more to your count of enemy dead, Sergeant. Who is wounded?”
“Private Zel’Freedan took a sword-stroke to his forearm that broke through his mail, and Private Kel’Chamlin got his head dented by a mace, but it doesn’t seem too bad.”
“Very well,” Karvik replied. “Take our wounded to the side while we question the attackers.” Karvik turned toward where his men were holding swords ready around five recumbent figures.
The men were dirty, unkempt, and wearing patched-together armor that didn’t cover any of them adequately. Karvik’s piercing glare lingered on each of them for a moment before settling on the man in the middle. “What did you think to accomplish by attacking Prince Stavin?” he asked.
“T’were Master Cardik’s idea, Lord. He said we could get ten-thousand gold crowns ransom fer him.”
Karvik shook his head. “Haven’t you heard that Prince Stavin is immune to magic?”
“We has. Everyone has. But Master Cardik said he’s been blessed by Lebawan and could get past his armor.”
Karvik turned toward his prince as Stavin growled in anger. “The priests of Lebawan again.”
Stavin looked past Karvik and his golden eyes seemed to glow with anger as he growled, “Lady Sahren is my patron, and She is more than a match for the upstart Lebawan.”
All of the men on the ground looked shocked and more than a little frightened by Stavin’s comment. The one in the middle spoke in a nearly inaudible whisper as he said, “Lord Lebawan is above all the Gods.”
Stavin struck downward with his Dragon’s Tongue, piercing the man’s heart with a lightning-quick thrust. “No, he isn’t,” was all he said as the man gasped out his dying breath. Stavin looked at the others, but a shout from behind him made him turn and come to the ready again as the Royal Guardsmen around him braced for another attack.
“Stand where you are and drop your weapons by order of the City Guard!” No one moved. “You heard me!” the man shouted again. “Drop your weapons now!”
Karvik looked the man in the eye as he said, “The Evandian Royal Guards do not drop their weapons for anyone.”
The four-man team of City Guardsmen paused for a moment, then came forward cautiously. “You’re the Evandians? Why did you set fire to the inn?” the leader asked.
Karvik tilted his head to the side and said, “We didn’t.” He pointed toward where the mage and others were laying. “They did.”
The guardsman walked over and examined the bodies, then stood and backed away. “You’ve killed the Priests of Lebawan.”
“Not for the first time,” Stavin commented as he stepped forward. “Lebawan’s priests have attacked me before. They seem to think they can take me and use me to claim Evandia for the Cutter and his followers. So far the only things they’ve claimed are graves. None of them can defeat the protections of my armor.”
The leader of the guardsmen stepped towards Stavin with his sword drawn and demanded, “Who are you to dare--?”
Karvik cut him off. “You are addressing His Royal Highness, Dragon Blessed Senior Warmaster Prince Stavin Markan Karvan Do’Kalin Ne’Aniston Zel’Andral of Evandia. You will show him the proper respect, or you’ll face me to atone for your insult.”
The guards were saved from having to answer by the arrival of the innkeeper and a dozen others. “Prince Stavin! Oh, thank the Gods Above you’re safe. You are safe, aren’t you? I’ve already sent for a Healer.”
The innkeeper’s eyes fell on the City Guardsmen and his demeanor changed. “There you are!” he shouted as his arms rose. “You were supposed to be on watch to protect Prince Stavin and see to it that nothing happened. Look at my inn! It’s burned half to the ground. Someone cancelled the anti-fire spells!” The guardsman tried to answer, but the innkeeper had already turned back to Stavin.
“Your Highness, please forgive us. There has been some unrest of late and--”
“It was the priests of Lebawan, again,” Stavin interrupted.
“The Cutter’s Priests? Why would they burn the inn?”
“Because they want Evandia and think taking me will get it for them.”
The innkeeper looked at Stavin with wide eyes, then glared at the guardsmen. “Lady Mayor Zel’Tessel will hear of this. She doesn’t follow the Cutter any more than I do. Those four will pay for this with their lives even if they have convinced some of you fools to follow their teachings.”
“They already have,” Karvik said with a slight smile. “The Evandian Royal Guards do not take kindly to being attacked.”
“But, the mage--”
“Wasn’t very powerful,” Stavin said. “Probably just a Journeyman masquerading as a Master.”
More people were swarming around the inn and suddenly the flames vanished. Everyone fell silent in the darkness until a few moments later when torches were lit. People started talking again, discussing the events of the morning, but were silenced again moments later. A woman’s voice shouting commands heralded the arrival of the mayor.
“Prince Stavin! Prince Stavin, are you here?” she shouted, and Stavin moved to where he could see her and be seen. “Prince Stavin, thank the Gods Above you’re safe! I heard a call for a Healer and feared the worst.”
Stavin bowed his head slightly. “Yes, Lady Mayor, I’m fine. Several of my Guardsmen were injured, however, and need assistance.”
The mayor bowed deeply to Stavin, then turned on her guardsmen. “I want whoever is responsible for this caught and brought before me. You don’t go off-duty until they are in chains.”
All four of the guardsmen bowed, then the leader said, “Lady Mayor, it was Lord Corin-”
“Lord Corin!” the mayor shouted. “Since when is a Del’Horse accorded the title of lord?!” she all but screamed.
“Lady Mayor, he was the High Priest of--”
“He is a deluded fool!” the mayor snapped, then paused and asked, “What do you mean ‘was’ High Priest?”
The guardsman looked past her toward Stavin. “The Evandians murdered him.”
The mayor looked over her shoulder at Stavin and shook her head. “No. Anyone attacking Prince Stavin is committing suicide. That’s been a well-known truism for several years now. Only someone foolish enough to follow Lebawan’s teachings would be fool enough to think otherwise.”
“Lady Mayor!” the guardsman began, but she cut him off.
“Silence!” the mayor sh
outed. “Corin Del’Horse was a failure at everything he ever tried to do. Now he’s turned to religion and he’s proven himself a failure there as well. Take the bodies to his shanty temple. You and any of his other followers who care to do an honest day’s work can bury him.” The mayor dismissed him with a backhanded gesture normally reserved for the most menial of servants.
Stavin had watched the exchange, and now stepped forward. “Lady Mayor, we will be leaving for Aniston as soon as my men can be safely moved.”
A panicked expression crossed the mayor’s face as she said, “Prince Stavin, please don’t let this incident--”
Stavin held up his hand to stop her. “Mayor Zel’Tessel, this incident could have cost some of my men their lives. I intend to return, but you have some house-cleaning to do. I will not stay where Lebawan’s followers flourish.” With that he turned away, leaving the mayor sputtering behind him.
Stavin joined Karvik where their men were being tended. “How bad?”
“They should be fit to travel once the Healer is done. He’s just a Journeyman, but he seems to know what he’s doing.”
“Damn Lebawan and all of his followers to Eshokanal’s Hell,” Stavin cursed. “We’re not staying. As soon as we can we’re going to Aniston. I told the mayor that we’ll be back, but I’m not committed to it. If Lebawan’s followers are flourishing here, then I want to avoid them.”
Karvik bowed his head slightly. “As you wish, and I agree completely. I don’t feel good about how quickly this attack happened. This was arranged well in advance of our arrival.”
Stavin glared around them and said, “Agreed,” in an intense tone. “At first light we buy a wagon and go. We’ll take the wounded to Aniston this morning.”
Karvik nodded and signaled Varik to his side. “Lieutenant Kel’Horval, have our men prepare to leave. One team at a time, Var. I want the other two teams on watch.”
Varik snapped to attention and said, “Yes, Sir,” then turned and started giving the men their orders.
The innkeeper had crept closer and said, “Prince Stavin, please--”
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