by Phil Stern
Choking back an odd surge of disappointment, she forced herself to pay attention to the King.
***
“Congratulations on your achievements so far!” the King called out, slowly pacing before the line of recruits. “We are proud of you, and know you will serve the Crown well into the future!”
Before reaching the very end of the line, where Anson stood, the King peeled off and walked back to the center of the room, right before the Throne. Anson tried to not visibly exhale.
“The very near future, in fact!” the King continued. “For I announce here today that an expedition will leave on the morrow to give the Kardens what they deserve! And with that army will go these twenty recruits before us now!”
After a moment of stunned silence, everyone applauded vigorously, the recruits remaining rigidly at attention. In his peripheral vision, Anson saw several of the royal princes looking at one another in surprise.
“Fifteen hundred men will go to the Outlands, led by Prince Garob!” Nodding firmly, the King motioned vaguely to the side. “Prince Tenen will assist him. As one of our strongest young cousins, Tenen is well suited to take a more active role in our affairs!”
Nodding sagely, Tenen, only two years older than the 18-year-old recruits, was clearly pleased as this unexpected bolt of praise.
“We are strong!” Holding up a fist, the King slowly looked about the room. “Mightier than the Kardens! We will vanquish all of our foes, both in the field and closer to home!” And so saying, the grey-haired King turned to look at his own Throne, a ponderous gold chair weighing several hundred pounds.
Untouched by human hand, the massive, ornate chair lifted off the raised platform, floating out into the middle of the room to hover before the center of the recruit line. There were several “oohs” and “ahhs” from the crowd at this display of kingly power, a few of the women even offering brief applause.
For Anson, it was nearly too much. He had no idea the King possessed the same ability as himself. Breathing heavily, he couldn’t help turning to the left, staring at the Throne, panic nearly overwhelming him.
However, right underneath the levitating monarch’s chair, directly in his line of sight, was the empowered princess. Unlike everyone else, their attention galvanized by the now-wobbling Throne, she was staring straight at him. Somehow, he immediately knew she meant no harm, that his secret would be kept. Most of Anson’s tension instantly drained away. With a nearly imperceptible nod, she then pointedly drew his attention up to the Throne and away from her. Letting out a final sigh, he let his eyes wander upwards.
“Face front!” bellowed out Prince Garob. Thankfully, several of the other boys also couldn’t help gaping at the King’s display of mental might. Anson, along with six others, now snapped their faces down and forward once more, features frozen into emotionless masks.
Now shaking even more, the Throne meandered back to its customary position, dropping down with a thud. The King himself climbed the few steps back to the raised platform, setting into the monarch’s symbol of power with a tired sigh.
It had taken far greater exertion for the King to lift and move the Throne than it would have for Anson to do the same thing. At the moment, he didn’t know quite what to make of that.
***
“I assure you, my Lady, I’m just fine!” Unable to hide her impatience any longer, the burned Demon stood up from the table.
“But my dear, let me help you!” At one time the old princess had moderately effective healing powers. Now well into her dotage, she still hung around the castle infirmary laying her almost useless hands on anyone who walked in.
“My Lady, please!” Torched outer clothing abandoned in the passageway upstairs, the faux-cleaning woman grabbed a random dress from a chair, quickly pulling it on. “I must go now!”
“But my dear...”
Ignoring her, the Demon raced out the door.
There was an Unknown Talent right here in the castle! She’d even brushed up against his leg, but that young fool Prince Tenen had burst in just before she could look up at his face. So close, but she didn’t know what he looked like! The Unknown could be any of the twenty boys in that room.
At first stunned and woozy from Tenen’s attack, the Demon had allowed herself to be helped down to the infirmary. Now, having regained her composure, she knew what must be done. She simply had to find and stop the Unknown before he escaped the castle.
There wasn’t time to report to her superiors, and this was simply too good of an opportunity to waste. Capturing him would be a professional coup, leading to sure promotion, possibly even the King’s personal favor.
And her own power was well-suited for such an eventuality. This particular Demon could instantly make anyone fall into a deep sleep lasting several minutes. Thus incapacitated, the Unknown Talent could be drugged and hustled down into the dungeon before he even knew what had hit him. Following a full and leisurely interrogation, the boy would then quietly disappear forever.
At this point the ceremony would be ending, the recruits themselves now proudly exiting through the main castle entrance into the courtyard. (They’d been shepherded through a side entrance on the way in, the better to search for Unknowns. Obviously, someone hadn’t done their job.)
And that’s where she’d be, standing on a raised platform to the side of the main castle entrance. The recruits would have to walk right beneath her to get out into the courtyard, before passing through the outer wall gate into Brenlaw beyond.
Standing above, where the Unknown would least expect it, she’d be close enough to precisely identify him within the mass of recruits leaving the castle. Then all the Demon had to do was hop down, get within fifteen feet or so, and put him fast asleep.
And then he’d be hers for the taking.
***
Frustrated, Lydia could only watch as the twenty recruits made a right face and marched out the far door, the empowered young man now in the lead. Once out of sight, he quickly faded out of sensing range.
What had his name been? She’d been so preoccupied with mentally seeking him out during Prince Garob’s introductions she’d barely noted it.
“Belle!” she now demanded, grabbing her friend’s arm. “Where is Hylen?” Yes, that’s what Garob had said. Anson, from the village of Hylen.
“How should I know?” Wrinkling her nose in disgust, the thin blonde shrugged. “All those smelly villages look the same anyway.”
“Yes, but...”
“But what? Oh, I see!” Belle swatted her shoulder. “You liked one of them? And that’s where he’s from? This Hylen place?”
Uh oh. She’d already said too much. “Well, what can I say?” Lydia tried her best to act girlish. “They are cute!”
“Um. A few, maybe.” Clearly, Belle was already losing interest in the proceedings. “Physically, at least. But they’re all so dull! Not a single drop of power in the whole lot! Now, how boring would that be?”
So Belle hadn’t detected anything? Surprised, Lydia realized her own mental sensitivity must be greater than anybody else in the room, even the King himself. Otherwise, the empowered boy would have been discovered.
“Well, that’s very proper, isn’t it?” Lydia carefully replied. “Commoners don’t have power.”
“No, they’re not supposed to. Although I wonder?” With a mischievous glance at the male royals filing out of the Throne Room, Belle leaned in to whisper. “You know they sleep with commoner girls sometimes, don’t you? I’ll bet there are some young people living out in the countryside who can do some awfully interesting things!”
“Those would be devils, Belle.” Doing her best to sound stern, Lydia shook her head. “And they’re sired by the Dark Master.”
“Uh huh.” Belle couldn’t help giggling again. “I’m sure they are!”
By now Anson was completely out of range. Suddenly it occurred to Lydia he would have to pass near several more royals, and who knows how many of those empowered spies, on the wa
y out of the castle. Concerned, she now darted out of the Throne Room.
“Hey!” Hurrying to catch up, Belle fell into stride beside her. “Where are you going?”
“Back to the veranda over the courtyard.” Lydia had no idea what she’d do to help Anson if there was a problem, but she had to see for herself. “Let’s make sure that horse is all right.”
“The horse, huh?” Belle said. “I think somebody has a real crush!”
Trying not to blush, Lydia nearly ran down the passageway.
***
Laughing and slapping one another on the back, the recruits tumbled down a flight of stairs toward the ground floor. Once there, it was a short walk to the wide front entrance.
Everyone was excited about the upcoming military adventure. Trying his best to match the mood, Anson nevertheless kept his guard up.
Exiting the castle itself, they would have to pass through first a heavy door, then a twenty-foot long, outdoor constricted passage created by the presence of two wide stone walls to either side. This was a deliberate bottleneck, created so that any invaders who’d crashed the outer gates into the courtyard would then be forced into the small space before assailing the actual castle door. This would allow attack from the top of the bottleneck walls themselves, as well as boiling oil and other nasty stuff to be poured down on them from the upper levels of the castle itself.
But this would also be the most likely location for a Demon ambush. Pressed into the enclosed run, surrounded by his mates, there wouldn’t be much opportunity for escape.
Girding himself as best he could, Anson stoically pressed forward toward the wide-open doorway and the golden sunshine beyond, fellow recruits to either side.
***
The Demon made a point of swiping her dirty cleaning rags at some iron plating on the guard platform. Here she was just another lowly servant, trying to stay out of the way.
But set on top of one of the bottleneck walls running out from the castle door, the platform was a perfect place to first detect, and then incapacitate, the Unknown passing some ten feet below.
All she had to do now was wait for him to come out of the castle.
***
Bursting out into the mid-morning sunshine, Lydia was again on the same veranda from which she’d soothed the horse an hour before. Two long stories below was the stone bottleneck, a few soldiers standing guard on the wall platforms.
But wait! That cleaning woman there on the wall! Staring almost straight downward, Lydia was nearly overwhelmed by a surge of malevolent energy emanating from her. Though pretending to be a lowly drudge, this was obviously a Demon, her attention focused on the castle entranceway on the very ground level.
Clearly, she was waiting for someone to emerge. With a sense of dread, Lydia knew who it must be.
***
Just before crossing the threshold of the massive stone fortress, Anson’s inner warning clarion sang out.
Passing out into the bright daylight, Anson abandoned all caution, letting his own sensitivity extend outward. He immediately detected the same Demon from before, standing on the platform above.
Without even having to look up, he firmly swept the Demon’s legs out from underneath her, causing the woman to first crash down on the platform above his head, then tumble down to the ground within the constricted area between the two walls itself.
***
The entire contingent stopped, mid-bottleneck, to stare at the Demon now lying on the grass by the base of a stone wall.
“What the hell?” one of the recruits exclaimed. “She must have fallen!”
“Drunk, more likely,” said another. “You know how these washer-women are.”
“Hey, isn’t that the same drudge from before?” a third added. “The one that Prince Tenen warmed up?”
A few of the recruits laughed, kneeling down to examine the groggy Demon. Anson deliberately took a step back, maintaining his distance.
The first uniformed boy to touch the woman immediately passed out, crunching down beside her. Surprised, a second recruit bent down, also falling into a deep sleep.
“Get away from me!” Obviously disoriented, one hand gingerly gripping an obviously injured shoulder, the drudge now struggled to her feet. “I’m warning you!”
“Hey, what did you do to them?” Conger now drew his sword. “Those are the King’s men there!”
“Peasant!” snarled the Demon, unsteadily rocking back and forth. “You have no idea...”
With the merest mental flick, Anson flung the Demon back against the wall. Her head connecting with a protruding stone, she collapsed once more, unconscious. To everyone else it merely appeared the drunk washer woman had again tripped and fallen of her own accord.
Determining the two downed recruits were merely asleep, a bucket full of cold water jolted each back into full wakefulness. Five agonizing minutes later, during which time Anson fully expected more Demons to descend upon them, the recruits laughingly passed through the main gates of the heavy outer wall and into the town beyond.
For the moment, at least, Anson was safe.
***
Fretfully, Lydia watched the recruits pass out of the courtyard into Brenlaw itself. Looking downward, the young princess saw two other drudges attending to the empowered spy, who was only now awakening.
“By the King, Lydia, can we go now?” Impatiently, Belle tugged on her arm. “You’ve seen all the boys you’re going to see today.”
Nodding mutely, Lydia allowed herself to be pulled back into the castle.
As a royal, Lydia could display any power she possessed, live life out in the open, with no fear of persecution or reprisal.
But now she realized there must be a whole class of people, forced to run and hide their entire lives. What must that be like? And how could it possibly be changed?
And what of Anson? How must he feel, being so strong, yet never being able to share his ability with anybody else?
***
He was in his mid-30's, seemingly average in almost every way. Briskly striding down the stone passageway, the man’s uniform and light blue cape marked him as a low-ranking member of castle staff, perhaps an accountant or tax collector.
Yet the senior royals, those closest to the King, nodded with respect while unconsciously drifting to the other side of the passageway. Offhandedly nodding in reply, Perno went directly to the King’s private bedchamber. Waving aside the two Royal Guardsmen sentries at the door (one of whom was Perno’s man), he confidently rapped for entry.
“Come in,” called out the King. Without hesitation, Perno went inside the royal sanctum.
There was no official title for Perno’s real position. Yet as the head of the King’s secret police, he was one of the most powerful, yet least known, men in the entire Kingdom. Perno had risen to the top position following the execution of his predecessor for suspected treason, running the King’s Network of empowered agents for the past three years.
Having shed his heavy royal robes, the King leaned back in a plush chair. Tiredly running a hand back through his snow-white hair, the monarch was clearly distracted. “What is it?”
“My liege,” Perno formally began. “We have a security risk. There is an Unknown Talent now receiving training in the military camp. From what we know, perhaps a very powerful one.”
“Really?”
“Yes, my Lord.” Hesitating only a second, Perno continued. “In fact, he was one of the boys receiving Your Majesty’s congratulations today.”
Letting his eyes drift closed, the King gave a great sigh. “You’re saying this devil, this criminal, entered my castle undetected, was in my very presence, and then left without arrest? I find that hard to believe.”
“Nevertheless, my liege, it is true.”
The king grunted, briefly staring out the window. “And we knew nothing of this boy’s existence before today?”
Once more Perno paused before answering. “Very little, my Lord.”
Of course,
the Network always sent agents among the annual class of new military recruits, hoping to uncover those with power. Usually, this effort provided little or no result.
This year, however, there had been vague reports of a very potent Unknown Talent within the camp, one so skilled at subterfuge it had been impossible to zero in precisely on who it was.
Under Perno’s direction, the Network had efficiently interrogated a few recruits who spoke openly of such things (such as the unfortunate Jaron), yet were no closer to identifying the culprit. Perno himself, utilizing his own special ability, had spent time ambling in and among the recruits, but like his agents could detect only the vaguest hint of power on the very edge of mental perception. It could be anyone within a general radius.
Briefly, Perno recounted the day’s events for the King, including the discovery of the Unknown within the recruit ranks, Prince Tenen’s attack on his operative, and then the agent’s subsequent failure to take down the Talent leaving the castle.
“And why did Prince Tenen attack your agent?” the King asked.
“Apparently it was some ill-conceived jest, my Lord, designed to amuse the recruits.”
“And you have no idea who this Unknown is?” A glass of water drifted across the room of its own accord, settling into the King’s hand. “Only that he’s one of those twenty boys in here today?”
“That is correct, my liege.”
“Indeed.” The King now took a sip, then settled back down in his cushioned chair. “So now what?”
“I need the names of those twenty recruits, my Lord,” Perno briskly replied. “We must arrest and interrogate them all immediately.”
Grunting, the King put up his stockinged feet, considering the recommendation. “No,” he finally commanded. “Not now.”
“My Lord, it is the only way...”