Sapphire of the Fairies, Book 1 of Sword of Heavens

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “I have formed the Alcea Rangers,” Garth answered. “We are small, but we will succeed where larger forces would fail.”

  “I will arrange for Mitar and David to be here this evening,” Larc capitulated. “If you need anything in the way of support, you have only to ask for it.”

  “Thank you, Larc,” Garth appreciated. “You should know what I will be asking them to do so you can spare them their other duties. The heir is not proclaiming himself now. He needs more training before that can be accomplished. I will be asking David and Mitar to find the locations of their loyal members who have either left or remained. The Rangers and the Red Swords will not be reactivated now, but someone must lay the plans for doing exactly that.”

  “They will have my full support,” Larc promised.

  * * * *

  The tailor gathered his belongings and bowed as he left the room. Once the door was closed, Fredrik remarked, “I could learn to like this style of living. I have never seen an inn as plush as this one.”

  “Don’t get too used to it,” Tedi taunted. “We are not very far from the Targa dungeons and we could end up in them yet.”

  “I think the tailoring took more than enough time for the word of our arrival to spread,” Arik announced. “Let’s go down to the dining room and have Lord Wason show himself off.”

  Fredrik preened himself in front of the mirror, making sure his new, blue silk suit was not wrinkled or in disarray. Arik in his brown and gray breeches, white frilled shirt and brown leather vest waited at the door, as the Lord’s bodyguard should, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Tedi was attired as a servant with brown and gray breeches and shirt. Fredrik gathered up his straight, wooden walking stick, which was delicately carved with seashore scenes and topped with a small gold knob and walked out the door. Arik stepped quickly to stay on Fredrik’s heels and Tedi followed a distance behind.

  As they stepped into the dining room, dozens of eyes turned their way. Fredrik asked for a table in the corner as Kalina had instructed him. Not being in full view of everyone would ensure that people’s curiosity about who was seeing the newcomer would be kept high. Fredrik sat fully in the corner with Arik on one side and Tedi on the other. A waiter came to take the order and Fredrik suddenly felt ill prepared. He had never eaten in so fine an establishment and the wrong choice of food could show him as an impostor.

  Fredrik laid the menu back on the table without looking at it. “What is the best meal that is available in Tagaret?” Fredrik asked the waiter.

  “Without a doubt,” the waiter happily replied, “it would be the Land and Sand offered only here at the Palace Shadow, My Lord.”

  “Very well,” Fredrik smiled, “Bring us three of the Land and Sand and I shall tell you if your food withstands the standards of Cidal. And bring a bottle of your finest wine, as well.” Fredrik immediately turned his head to observe the room, pointedly ignoring the waiter as if he no longer existed.

  The waiter gave a short bow and disappeared. “I hope I can stomach what you just ordered,” whispered Tedi. “We don’t even know what it is.”

  “It will not matter,” Fredrik answered. “It will be finer than anything you have ever eaten, I am sure.”

  The stares continued as the waiter returned with a bottle of wine. Right behind him were three more waiters carrying large trays of food. They served Fredrik first and then Arik. By the time it came to Tedi there was almost not enough room for the plates of food. The Land and Sand consisted of a large lobster tail, scallops, shrimp, oysters, and a large portion of beef. Tedi thought his meal could probably last him for three days. Still, as he started devouring it, he had to admit that it was the best seafood he had ever eaten, and that was coming from a fisherman. He had never seen a portion of beef that was so large and yet so tender.

  The boys deliberately ate slowly, expecting people to come over and introduce themselves, but no one came. Eventually, they were finished and the waiters came to take the plates away. As soon as the waiters disappeared, the first caller came. Fredrik looked past him and could see everyone jockeying for position and almost laughed. He had thought no one was coming but they were waiting impatiently for him to finish his dinner. Some of them must be furious by now.

  The gentleman who was bold enough to come first was quite distinguished looking. He was dressed in a brown version of Fredrik’s suit, but also sported gold bracelets and a gold necklace. He was probably three times as old as Fredrik with well-groomed gray hair and mustache.

  “Welcome to Tagaret, capital of Targa, Lord Wason,” he greeted. “I am Duke Everich, King’s Advisor and head of the Council of Advisors.”

  Fredrik rose and extended his hand for the formal shake he had been informed was customary in Targa. Arik and Tedi rose and bowed. The Duke shook Fredrik’s hand and seated himself. He kept looking at Tedi as if there was something wrong with him. When everyone sat back down, the Duke sighed and Fredrik knew he had just committed some small mistake in protocol.

  “Duke Everich,” Fredrik began, “I am pleased and honored by my reception to Tagaret. Forgive me for retaining my men. One, I dare not let out of my sight. The other refuses to let me out of his.”

  “Ah, that explains a lot, Lord Wason,” the Duke declared. “I was not sure whether it was Cidal customs that dictated eating with your servant. I thought perhaps you were not made aware that there is a servant’s dining room, as well.”

  “I am afraid it is a discipline problem, Duke Everich,” Fredrik stated, glad that he had guessed the source of irritation to the Duke. “I fear that I came with only one servant and one bodyguard. Now I cannot spare my bodyguard to watch the servant and I cannot afford to get rid of the servant. Foolish on my part.”

  “You are young yet,” the Duke chuckled. “You have learned a valuable lesson. I must say that hearing of you here has piqued my curiosity. What is it that brings you so far from home?”

  “I have come to seek audience with your King,” Fredrik declared. “My advisor, Captain Grecho of the Cidal Mercenary Company, believes it is time to seek alliances.”

  “Your advisor rules a mercenary company?” asked Duke Everich.

  “Yes,” answered Fredrik, “the Company is loyal to the Lord of the Manor and serves as the Army of Cidal. It is useful for them to earn currency and experience in the service of others when there is no pressing need at home. I am surprised that you have not heard of them.”

  “Oh, I have heard of them, my Lord Wason,” the Duke replied as Fredrik cringed. “I have used their services before. I am just surprised that their allegiance has been kept secret.”

  “It has not been a secret,” lied Fredrik. “It is just not something that needs to be disclosed to every contract holder. If there was a conflict because of it, you can be assured that Captain Grecho would disclose it.”

  “Of course,” nodded the Duke. “In any event, you are too late to speak with the King, I’m afraid. King Byron is dead.”

  "My condolences,” offered Fredrik. “I do hope it wasn’t sudden. Has his heir been crowned yet?”

  “Alas,” frowned Duke Everich, “King Byron had no known heir. The Council of Advisors rule Targa. I can guess what Cidal has to offer to an alliance, but what does it wish from Targa, my young Lord?”

  “A common border, King’s Advisor,” Fredrik calmly stated.

  A look of shock fell over the Duke’s face. There was an awful lot of territory between Targa and Cidal. If they were to have a common border, quite a few countries or cities would have to fall. The young Lord would have to be either a fool or have access to an army larger than a mercenary company. Either way, he would be very useful or very dangerous, perhaps both.

  “I think we should speak more of this before I present it to the Council,” Duke Everich said. “Perhaps you would accompany me to the Royal Palace?”

  “It would be a pleasure, Duke Everich,” Lord Wason replied.

  Everyone rose and left the dining room, much to the chagrin of the other
nobles waiting to interrogate the newcomer. The walk from the Palace Shadow to the Royal Palace was short. Fredrik was amazed at the sheer size of the Palace and had trouble remembering the path so he could retrace his steps if necessary.

  Duke Everich showed them into a room that looked like a study. He again frowned as the two Cidal underlings followed Fredrik into the room. Fredrik seized the opportunity before it passed.

  “Duke Everich,” Fredrik inquired, “I do not particularly want my fellow countrymen involved in this conversation. I would post my bodyguard outside the door, but not with the servant to look after. I wonder if I might indulge myself of your good graces and store my servant in your dungeon until I am ready to leave?”

  “An excellent idea,” laughed the Duke. “I can arrange for some punishment while he is there if you desire.”

  “That will not be necessary,” chuckled Lord Wason. “If you could just issue authorization for my man to deposit and collect him, that would be sufficient.”

  The Duke scribbled an authorization and handed it to Arik. “I will have one of my men show him the way,” offered the Duke.

  Lord Wason leaned close to the Duke’s ear and whispered, “Don’t bother. Let him find it on his own.”

  After being dismissed, Arik gently shoved Tedi out the door and closed it. Looking at the authorization, Arik gave a smile and proceeded down the stairs he knew led to the dungeon. Garth had spent some hours trying to detail the inside of the castle to Tedi and himself and Arik felt like he had been there before.

  They reached the dungeon quickly and showed the authorization to the outside guard. Without a blink he opened the door to the dungeon and let them in. Inside the dungeon were two more guards seated at a table. They looked up as soon as the door opened and watched as Tedi and Arik approached. Arik walked past Tedi to give the authorization to one of the guards and was reproached for letting his back to a prisoner.

  “He is not a prisoner,” Arik stated. “He is just a troublesome servant that needs to be kept out of my hair for a while. You need not even trouble yourself with getting up. I will shove him in a cell.”

  “Nobody goes into the cell block without one of us,” the guard stated as he rose. “Servant or prisoner, he gets the same from me either way.”

  Arik began to fear that Tedi would be searched. Without his tools, this whole charade would be wasted and possibly worse if they found the lock picks Tedi had on him. The guard pointed the way and followed them into the cellblock. Arik’s heart dropped when he saw no other prisoners in the cells.

  Arik stopped and turned to the guard. “Is there a cell with a neighbor?” Arik asked. “This lout’s snoring will add some punishment to the culprit’s torment.”

  The guard laughed heartily and pointed Arik and Tedi towards another cellblock. “You have the makings of a Royal Tormentor, lad. The way you think makes me warm all over.”

  The guard let them walk down the corridor until they came to a cell next to another prisoner and ushered Tedi in and locked the door. The man in the cell next to Tedi looked too young to be the General.

  The guard turned to Arik. “Now that we have your friend locked up,” the guard laughed, “you’ll come with me and answer some questions.”

  Arik’s stomach turned as he looked at the massive guard with the wicked grin.

  Chapter 20

  Lady Wason

  Tedi craned his neck in an attempt to see into the other cells in the block, but he was unable to see anyone other than the man in the next cell. Quietly, for a while, he pondered his options. He was supposed to talk with the General and arrange his escape, but if the man in the next cell was not Sergeant Trank, who was General Gregor’s aide, he would call the jailers called down on him in a moment.

  “What is your name?” Tedi hesitantly asked.

  The man looked at him and pointedly ignored him. Tedi wasn’t sure what the dungeon guards had up their sleeve with their last comment to Arik, but he didn’t have a lot of time to deal with his neighbor’s reluctance to talk.

  “I had a cousin who looked a lot like you,” Tedi probed. “People often told him that he looked like General Gregor’s aide. Say, you wouldn’t happen to be Sergeant Trank, would you?”

  “You wouldn’t even know anyone who had ever seen a General’s aide,” the neighbor sneered. “Why don’t you do us both a favor and let me get some rest? Tell Duke Everich he will have to come up with a better scheme than sending you in here, so save your breath.”

  Tedi was taken back at the man’s hostile attitude, but clearly the Duke wanted something from this man and, just as clearly, this man didn’t want to give it. Tedi was going to get nowhere fast following his coy little approach.

  “I don’t know if you are Sergeant Trank or not,” Tedi gambled, “but my gut instinct tells me that you are. I do not work for the Duke, but I do need to talk to the General. I was hoping that they would put me in the cell next to him.”

  The man’s hostility seemed abated and Tedi bet his life on his next statement. “I was told to tell the General that I was sent by Garth Shado to affect his release.”

  The man stared at Tedi for the longest moment without speaking. After rolling something around in his mind, the man asked, “Who told you to say Garth Shado sent you?”

  “Garth himself,” Tedi answered. “He is a tall man, extremely well-built with long black hair in a tail. He called General Gregor his cousin and travels with a woman named Kalina. Does that satisfy you that I am telling the truth?”

  “Not hardly,” the man laughed. “This friend of his, Kalina, she has a special trick she likes to pull on new acquaintances. Surely, if you ever met her you would know of it. What is the trick?

  Tedi had no idea what the man was talking about. Kalina had done nothing that stood out as a welcoming trick. How would he be able to convince the man without knowing her trick? In desperation, he threw up his hands.

  “How am I supposed to know anything about her tricks?” Tedi blurted out. “I don’t know anything about magic and everything a witch does is a trick to me. What trick are you talking about?”

  Oddly, the man smiled. “Witch is a very derogatory term,” the man scolded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Kalina filled your sleeping bag with worms for that statement. How do you plan to get the General out of the Royal Palace? Just waltz him past the dungeon guards?”

  “That is for me to discuss with the General,” stated Tedi. “You still haven’t told me who you are or where they are keeping the General.”

  “You are a brave fool,” chuckled the man. “I see no harm in admitting that I am Sergeant Trank and that the General is in the last cell down. The Duke didn’t want me close enough to him to converse. You will have as poor luck in trying to talk with him as you have of getting him out of here, now that you are stuck being my neighbor.”

  “We shall see about that,” boasted Tedi. “We plan on getting you out, as well. Let me know by whistling if you hear the guards coming.”

  Tedi moved to the cell door and pulled his picks out of a pouch. The cell doors were not very hard to unlock and he finished it quickly. The real protection of the dungeon lay in the three guards. One would have to get past them and they normally searched their prisoners. Tedi, of course, was only a guest. Quickly and silently, he made his way along the corridor to the last cell. Looking into the cell he saw an old, but well fit, man with gray hair that was sitting on his bunk staring at him.

  “General Gregor,” Tedi said quietly, Garth Shado sent me to get you out of here.” Even while he was talking, he was working the lock on the General’s door.

  “Save your breath, son,” the General replied. “I have no doubt that you and Garth mean well, but I will not endanger Alcea soldiers to make my escape and that is the only way that I can think of to get past the guards.”

  Tedi withdrew a tin of dye and a rag and handed it to the General. “We will not harm anyone in getting you and the Sergeant out,” Tedi promised. “Use this dye on yo
ur hair and don’t leave the cell. If the guards come to check on you, pretend you are sleeping and keep your head covered.”

  Tedi moved quickly back to the Sergeant’s cell and picked the door lock before retreating back into his own cell. Tedi sat down on his bunk and tried to hide the fact that he was shaking with the fear of discovery.

  * * * *

  The massive guard ordered Arik to sit at the small table where he and the other guard had been when Arik and Tedi entered the dungeon.

  “Now,” the guard growled, “the Duke may think you are a Cidal Mercenary, but I surely don’t. I’ve drank with the Captain’s men and their uniforms don’t look like yours, especially that soft hat. Every mercenary who I know wears a helmet same as we do. You probably don’t even know the Captain’s name. What game are you up to, lad, and who are we holding as a guest in our cells?”

  “Game?” Arik got out in an offended tone. “You think being a member of Lord’s Wason’s personal guard is a game? Don’t let my young looks fool you. Three others and I were chosen from the ranks of Captain Grecho’s company for the honor of serving Lord Wason. If I have to prove myself to a Targan dungeon guard, you can well believe that I am ready.”

  The last was said with Arik’s hand on his sword hilt and the guard was taken aback. If Arik was who he said he was, the guard was not about to spill the blood of a Lord’s personal guard and, on second look, he realized the lad was finely fit to be wearing some uniform. He placed his firm hand on Arik’s shoulder. “Don’t get riled up, lad,” the guard said. “I’ve never heard of Lord Wason, but it is obvious that you do know Captain Grecho. You can’t blame me for being suspicious, that’s my job.”

  “I’m sorry,” Arik replied as he felt the tension lessen. “I have had to train twice as hard as the rest of the men to prove myself because of my youthful appearance. I guess I am a little touchy about it. Lord Wason was the old sailor’s nephew. Lord Alrecht died recently and Lord Wason has a good rapport with Captain Grecho. When he asked for a personal guard, the Captain not only readily agreed, he held a contest to see who would be chosen. I am very proud of the soft hat, which I wear. It is a symbol of my expertise.”