by David Pauly
'How many did we capture alive?' asked Creon.
Blankly, Gray Water said, ‘None sire.'
'None?' echoed a stunned Creon. 'How could they escape?'
'The surviving archers fled off the rooftops of the Second District and escaped on horseback. Apparently they had seized control of the closest Messenger stable. We Shadows are fast—but cannot run down a galloping horse. We could not follow immediately, as the attackers took all the horses with them when they fled.'
'Were none of the archers wounded instead of killed?' asked Creon.
'Yes, Sire. Two. But they were able to take a poison before they could be interrogated. We are clearly dealing with very dedicated men.'
'What of the archers at the Escarpment, or the men who destroyed the bridge?'
'The archers fled from the Escarpment and are possibly still in the City, but we have no leads yet to their location. I have increased security at the Great Gate and the gates that lead north out of the City, but it might be too late, and the enemy already gone. However, the men who set the first ambush, along with the arsonists who tried to set the joy house on fire, are in custody. I gave them to Lord Mergin.
Creon raised a questioning eyebrow, and Mergin took over for Gray Water. 'I questioned them rigorously for nearly a day. While they were stubborn at first, we broke them eventually. Unfortunately, they are simple criminals hired by an unknown man in a tavern. They were offered a large sum of gold if they would set their fires and even more gold if they succeeded. Little did they suspect that they would have been slain if they had completed their tasks and returned to their benefactor. As for the archer who slew the madam of that house, no sign of him has been found. Clearly, these conspirators are taking no chances.'
Alfrahil nodded grimly. 'If they are prepared to kill themselves, much less their mercenary cohorts, in order to avoid capture, we may be dealing with a political faction that we have not seen before. Are there any clues as to their origin?'
'Well, Lord,' replied Gray Water, 'the slain appeared to be an even mix of younger Shardan soldiers and older Eldoran men. One of the Eldorans bore the crossed swords tattoo of your brother's first personal guard regiment. However, all those men were retired years ago.'
'What of their clothing and weaponry?'
'Nothing remarkable there, I'm sorry to say. Their clothes were common, their weapons made by the Elves and traded to us in the ordinary course of business. This was a very well organized conspiracy, and we have learned little so far. Perhaps within a few days we will learn more.'
'What of any news from outside Titania?' asked Alfrahil. 'Do the Dwarves and the Lesser Elves know anything that may help us?'
Mergin replied, 'The Dwarves have stated that they know nothing, but they will make further inquiries. We have not yet made contact with the Elves, but we hope to do so within a day or two. The local Kozaki komandir knows nothing, but he has sped messages to Kozak to officially inquire if their King has heard of any plots against us or anything else that may aid us.'
'So we are completely baffled, it seems,' said Alfrahil in disgust.
'Not completely,' said Mergin. 'I have placed Minister Zarthir and his aides, along with several other important men who have expressed reservations about the King's policies, or engaged in other suspicious activities, under close watch and restricted their movements. Two of Zarthir's aides ignored this command. They are now in custody, and we are searching their homes and offices. Minister Zarthir has cooperated fully, however, and has retained one of the best counselors in the city, and I fear without some new evidence coming to light in the next few days, Zarthir and his aides will be free to move about the city again. As you are aware, Majesty, ancient Eldoran law regarding a Full Minister or a member of the nobility requires solid evidence to issue an arrest warrant, and so far there is only rumor and hearsay against Zarthir.'
'I cannot believe there is no evidence whatsoever,' said Alfrahil.
Mergin nodded. 'Two odd things were found on one of the rooftops. The first was an Elven cloak with significant magical properties of concealment. We have never seen its like before. This would explain how and why the bowmen were able to elude our Shadows. We believe that the surviving archers are using these cloaks to hide themselves. Also, a grapnel, incredibly small and, light, with long, thin tines like hair, was found connected to threadlike Elven ropes. The grapnel appears to be an alloy of Platina and other metals. Our best metal smiths have examined it and pronounced it to be of Dwarven manufacture.'
'Dwarves and Elves,' muttered Alfrahil. 'Wonderful. Now in addition to looking inside Eldora, we must look outside as well. I can see that it is none too soon to begin my diplomatic tour, Father. Before I make any official enquiries, I should start with Lord Golbur, who is currently in the city, and then proceed to speak with the Lesser Elves.'
'You may be correct, Son,' said the king. 'I understand that you have a good relationship with Lord Golbur?'
'Yes, Father. During my diplomatic posting for a year at the Bastion, I got on very well with Lord Golbur when he visited there.'
'Yes,' mused Creon. 'Why, now that I think on it, you actually learned a bit of their strange tongue, did you not?'
'It is strange to our ears, rough and unmusical, but there is a deep beauty in it,' said Alfrahil. 'Actually, Father, I am nearly fluent. The tongue of the Elves, which I also learned, is beautiful on the outside and within, like rich music that soothes the ears and captivates the mind.'
'I sometimes have wished that you had less of the diplomat and more of the soldier about you,' said Creon. 'But your talents will serve us well now. You will go to see Lord Golbur tomorrow and ask if there are any "unofficial" bits and pieces of news that he might share with us in light of the recent events here. I will have Shadows accompany you to your meeting with Golbur, and a company of knights to escort you from the city.'
'Father, while I understand the risks, Golbur will not likely be completely open with me if he believes I do not trust him. I must have authority to command the Shadows that come with me. Since I was nearly killed here in the heart of the City, while under guard, it would seem that the assassins can reach anywhere. I feel that I would be safer if I keep moving, with as few people as possible knowing my whereabouts. Therefore, I must reject the escort you propose.'
'He is correct sire,' Mergin chimed in. 'Until we learn more, the Prince could be attacked again anywhere. It is a calculated risk, but he is right: staying mobile, with Shadows toward him from danger, will keep him safer than broadcasting his movements by assigning him a heavy guard. Besides, it will not do for the crown prince to disappear from view after what has happened. That is how rumors get started. No, he must show himself openly but at the same time carefully. A diplomatic mission, with a handful of Shadows, will be just the thing to restore the aura of invincibility of the royal family.'
'Very well,' said the King irritably. 'But I insist that the Shadows will have the final say as to whether or not any particular situation is safe, and you must abide by their judgment. Can you agree to that?'
'Willingly,' said Alfrahil.
'Good. Then go, my son, and prepare for your journey to the Dwarves.'
'What about the Elves, Father? Shall I meet with Prince Ferox, who is nearby in Ackerlea, after meeting with Golbur?'
'You will not see the lord of the North Forest under any circumstances,' said a stone-faced Creon. 'Nor any of his court. I am sure that there are some Lesser Elves from the Great Forest rather than the Northern Forest that you will be able to speak with.'
'What is wrong with going to see Ferox?' asked a confused Alfrahil.
'Do not mention his name again,' said Creon his face flushing with rage. 'I have enough difficulty these days without everyone questioning my every decision! Find a different Elf to answer your questions. Are we clear about this?'
'Perfectly, father,' said a perplexed Alfrahil.
'Finally, Lord Mergin shall continue his inquiries, and we will watch to s
ee who comes and goes from the out-walls and communicates with your brother to gauge his involvement. When will Daerahil arrive, Lord Mergin?
'He should arrive about midday, my lord. When do you want to see him?'
'I will see him two hours after he arrives. I want you here as well, Alfrahil.'
'I am eager to see Daerahil and learn the truth of his involvement. I must tell you, Father, that I still find it impossible to believe.'
'Such loyalty does you credit, my son. But you shall hear and judge for yourself. There is a passage that leads to a small alcove behind that tapestry over there. Lord Mergin will conduct you there so that you may watch and listen unobserved as I put your brother to the question.''
'I would prefer to face him openly,' said Alfrahil.
'What you prefer does not interest me,' snapped Creon with a trace of his former anger. 'This is my command.'
'I will obey, Father,' said Alfrahil, bowing his head.
#
Before proceeding to the Healer Hall, in the Third District, Alfrahil had a brief but firm argument with his six guardsmen. While there was a real danger if he wandered around the city, a quick gallop down-hill to the Healer Hall would be unexpected; there would be no time for assassins to plot, as only Alfrahil and his guards would know his intent. The guardsmen seemed unconvinced but could not disobey Alfrahil's direct command.
The journey was without incident, save for those citizens of Titania who, seeing their prince riding without fear and seemingly uninjured, spread the news excitedly, as Alfrahil had hoped. He nodded to their cheers and waves, though the guardsmen were clearly ill at ease.
Bidding his guards to wait outside the Healer Hall, Alfrahil entered. White-washed walls and an immaculately clean white flagstone floor greeted him. The strong smells of medicinal herbs and plants filled the main hall, where many wounded people lay. Some patients had family visiting them, and there was a low hum of conversation present. One old woman wept loudly at the bedside of an old man. Seeing how the common people had suffered in yesterday's events filled Alfrahil with fresh anger and determination to find and punish those responsible.
Seeing Findalas across the hall, he walked quietly toward her. She appeared just as beautiful as she had the night before, and he stared at her with a nearly rapt expression on his face until quietly calling her name.
She looked up, seemingly startled by the sound of her name, and then looking even more flustered as she realized who had spoken. 'My lord prince, I did not expect—'
'Calm yourself, Findalas. My visit is unofficial and informal. I wanted to see my friend Biramin and my guard captain, Alcar. Can you help me find them?'
'Certainly, my lord, but what of your wounds, how are you feeling? You should be in bed resting!' Her face wrinkled in concern.
'I am well enough,' he answered with a laugh, feigning a strength he did not really feel. 'I am stiff and sore, and yes, I probably should be resting, but I cannot be at ease until I learn about my friends.' Alfrahil paused and glanced about the Hall. 'Thank you again for coming to me last night and caring for me, but I feel guilty now, with so many injured here in the hall. Surely there were others in greater need of your services.'
Flushing, Findalas replied with steel in her voice. 'Lord, I saw to all of my seriously injured patients before I came to you. I assure you that none of them were neglected.'
'That is not what I meant, Findalas,' said a chagrined Alfrahil. 'I was trying to thank you for your personal care for me, but I was concerned for those less fortunate than I.'
'My lord…,' Findalas began hesitantly.
Seeing her confusion and anxiety, Alfrahil interrupted. 'No matter, Findalas. Just know that I am grateful. Now, what can you tell me of Biramin?'
Findalas seemed glad of the change of subject. 'He is in a separate room, my lord, as befits his rank and station. He has several arrow wounds, to his legs and arms, none of them truly worrisome. He was wearing the most marvelous coat of mail I have ever seen, light as silk but so strong that broken arrow heads were tangled in it. I have never seen the like.'
'You never will, for it is a coat of pure Platina. But will he recover?'
'Yes, lord. He has a broken left leg, which will heal in six to eight weeks and will cleanly knit. Otherwise, many muscles were pulled and strained, but he will make a full recovery. Alcar, however, was horribly burned; we have him wrapped in our finest healing herbs and are keeping him unconscious with the juice of poppies. I have little hope for him. I have sent an urgent message to Lord Mergin requesting an Elven healer, but I have not received a response.'
'I will ask Lord Mergin about your request upon return to the Citadel. Now, can you take me to Biramin?'
Nodding, she led him to a small private chamber. 'I will be just outside, Lord, if you need me,' Findalas said with a bow.
Alfrahil nodded and opened the door to the room. Inside, he saw a small bright oil lamp, and a very beautiful young Kozaki woman anxiously keeping watch by Biramin's bedside. This was Wynhyrra, Biramin's wife of two months. Her long blonde hair had been plaited back in one thick strand, worn up in the traditional Valkyrja style.
She raised, her clear blue eyes shining with unshed tears, as Alfrahil entered the room, shutting the door behind him. 'My Lord,' she said in a hushed voice. 'Glad am I to see you here. Bu you are also injured?' as she glanced at the sutures in the middle of his forehead.
'My wounds are nothing,' he said, gesturing to her absently, his eyes on Biramin, whose sleeping form was wrapped in bandages. 'Please, return to your seat, Wynhyrra. There is no need for ceremony between you and me. Tell me, how is Biramin?'
'Lord, thanks to the healers, and especially Findalas, he is much improved,' she replied, seating herself again. 'He was awake this morning for an hour or so and asked after you. After hearing you had a very narrow escape but were safe in the Citadel, he was able to sleep again.'
At that moment, Biramin awoke and in a dry voice asked, 'Is it my Prince before me?'
'Yes,' replied Alfrahil, moving alongside the bed. 'I am here, old friend. How are you feeling?' There was a pitcher of water and a glass set on a small table near the bed, and now, as he spoke, he filled a glass and handed it to Biramin.
The man took the glass in a shaky hand and drank deeply. When he spoke, his voice seemed stronger. 'My pride is hurt worse than my body, lord. To think that I was caught in such an ambush! I failed my men, and I failed you, my prince.'
'Nay,' said Alfrahil. 'Speak not of shame or failure. The ambushes were cunningly laid and well planned. You and I are lucky to be alive.'
'Luck had little to do with it,' muttered Biramin. 'It was the shirt of mail your father gifted me with that saved my life. Had I not been wearing it, I would have suffered the same fate as so many of my men.'
'It would be foolish of me to tell you not to mourn your men, as I mourn mine. Long shall it be before the memory of these events grows dim,' said Alfrahil. 'But do not despair or blame yourself, Biramin. I have need of your valor as soon as you are fit to return to duty. You and I will unmask this conspiracy, and our vengeance shall be swift and merciless.'
'I will stand with you on that day, Lord. May it some soon!'
But Alfrahil could see that even this brief exchange had left Biramin exhausted. In another moment, the man was asleep again.
'Thank you, Lord, for seeing my husband,' said Wynhyrra in a whisper, reaching to take the empty glass from her husband's nerveless hand. 'It means a great deal to him—and to me.'
'Nay, it was my privilege, for he is not only my guard captain, but my great friend,' said Alfrahil. 'How are you, Wynhyrra?'
Her stony countenance did not soften. 'I am fine. I sent messengers to my cousin Flynn, nephew to the King of Kozak, to ask for his help if needed, and to find the men who tried to take my husband from me.'
'We are working diligently to find the assassins and the men behind the plot, Wynhyrra. Do not trouble yourself, for the men of Eldora will avenge your husband
,' said Alfrahil.
'With all due respect, Lord, it was the men of Eldora who put my husband into this bed instead of mine in the first place. I do not know who to trust in these dark times. Only the traditional riders of Kozak do I know and believe in. Brief has it been since I left my life upon the open plain, and always there was the chance of brigands attacking you or your camp, coming to steal your horses if you were not careful. The weather could also not be ignored, but these were known and predictable dangers, unlike these foul assassins that would try to kill my beloved husband. I do not believe the men of this City can be trusted, except for a few, like you, Lord. Even then, I fear you will always do what is best for your realm and not for those whom you should love and care for.'
Alfrahil saw the flash of steely will in her large eyes, and knew instinctively that she possessed at least one hidden knife; deadly as she was beautiful. 'I understand your fears, Wynhyrra. Findalas has told me that Biramin will be well enough to return to you in a month or so. I have granted him two weeks leave from that point, so that you may both see to the final stages of his recovery and be joyful again. I have always tried to keep your husband safe, but his duty to me knows no bounds, and he would willingly die for me, as I for him. Trust is indeed very dear in these times, but know this: long ago I pledged myself to your husband's life, if that means anything to you.'
'Yes, Lord, it does mean something to me, and I beg your apology for my anger. It was not directed at you, but at these scheming men who do not know the value of life and honor, the desire to grow old with your man and bounce his grandchildren on your knee. Thank you, Lord, for his upcoming leave,' she added with a smile. 'That was kind of you.'