The Crown Of Yensupov (Book 3)

by C. Craig Coleman

  “I was afraid of that. What do we do now?” Tournak asked.

  Saxthor didn’t answer, but walked back over to the twitching official in charge.

  “May we stay the night? The winter winds are very cold, and we had no time to arrange lodgings.”

  The official was concentrating on the prince’s response to the current attraction and didn’t look at Saxthor.

  “You may stay the night, but I’ll deduct the cost from your fee.” Then he waved them away, clearly indicating they should not annoy him further. “I’ll pay you in the morning if all goes well with the evening’s entertainment.”

  “Very well.”

  The official waved them away. The troupe returned to their rooms on the lower kitchen level. Together and alone there, Saxthor started a discussion as to what they should do. “I have to get back to the great hall tonight after everyone leaves,” Saxthor said.

  Tournak, Tonelia, Hendrel, and Astorax looked at each other, then to Saxthor.

  “Did you forget something up there? Is there a good reason for going back?” Astorax asked his voice hoarse from bellowing. “You know there’s no telling when the festivities will end.”

  “Yes, well, the jewel is up there,” Saxthor said. “I have found it by moonlight, when it comes through the high windows in the early morning hours. The instructions didn’t say what time it will work.”

  “Great,” Tournak said.

  “So how’re we going to get back in there?” Saxthor asked.

  Tonelia shook her head. “I only planned one performance.”

  “We could sneak back up there and start a fire. That would empty the hall fast,” Hendrel said.

  “No, the smoke could diffuse the moonlight. I think I’ll need that at full intensity,” Saxthor said. “It would also bring more servants to put it out. Who knows how long that would take? Any other ideas?”

  “If we got a message to Bodrin to start trouble in the city, that might lure the court away from the great hall,” Tournak said.

  “That might make them more alert and inclined to stay up and remain in the great hall,” Saxthor said. “Besides, how would you get a message to Bodrin from in here? No, we’ll have to wait and hope the people leave in time.”

  They took turns listening to the chatter in the kitchen corridor. Just after two in the morning, there was an argument, then the palace was quiet. Tournak woke the others.

  The moonlight is just coming through the window here so it should be doing so in the great hall, Saxthor thought.

  “Hendrel, crack the door and check the kitchen.”

  “The kitchen is quiet, the staff has gone to bed,” Hendrel said, closing the door.

  “I’ll take only Tournak with me, since, if we’re caught, we can say we’re trying to find a lost item,” Saxthor said. “If we all go and are discovered, it’ll raise alarms.”

  “I’m going, too,” Tonelia said. “If the two of you are wandering around in the dark, it’ll still look suspicious. With me, you can claim you are escorting me to find my lost necklace.”

  “No point in arguing with her,” Hendrel said.

  Saxthor shook his head. “All right, but let’s get going.”

  The three slipped out of the room and up the hall, tiptoeing past a sleeping guard. They crept up the stairs and along the passage until they saw two more sleeping guards beside the great hall’s door.

  I hate to use the Peldentak Wand this close to Dreaddrac, the Dark Lord might sense it, he thought. However, it’s the only way I can think of to get in there. He pulled out the wand and with wrist down, drew a veil of invisibility around the three of them. Then he tossed a copper coin on the floor across from the guards.

  The sentries jerked upright, hearing the tinkling. When they realized it was unattended money, they both rushed to grab the coin. In the scuffle, Saxthor and his companions, slipped up by the door. While the guards argued, they didn’t notice one of the great arched doors slip open, then close again.

  Once inside, Saxthor slipped out of the veil of invisibility, which then dissolved. While his companions listened at the doors, Saxthor rushed to where the moonlight, streaming from the high windows, crossed the floor. He positioned his ring to catch the silver rays. Adjusting it for the difficult angle, he focused a beam through the Celestial Fire Topaz.

  “Hurry up,” Tournak whispered from the doorway. “The guards are returning. They may come to check the hall at any time.”

  Saxthor nodded, but continued as before. What can I do, I can’t hurry moonbeams. The silver light, streaking into the Celestial Fire Topaz turned blue passing out of the crystal. Saxthor kept maneuvering the ring until the beam was strongest, then adjusted it to strike the eye of the throne’s gilded dragon. As the royal blue beam hit the ruby eye, a rich purple flare illuminated the hall. It coalesced into a single reddish purple ray that shot to the far end of the wall opposite. Nothing happened.

  “I’m too late for the moon’s angle to reflect on the jewel’s hiding place, he thought. I can’t move the throne or the wall.

  As the moon moved across the sky and Tonelia chewed a fingernail, all he could do was make tiny adjustments in the ring’s angle keeping the beam on the wall. He played with the ring and shot the light stream on either side of the initial stone; nothing happened. Try as he did, he couldn’t get the beam to open a stone. Tense, his hand began to tremble making the beam wiggle. Tournak began fidgeting, too.

  If I’m too late, I’ll have to stall and try again earlier tomorrow night, Saxthor thought. What if festivities fill the hall earlier tomorrow? What if I can’t finagle an invitation for another night? Stop it. Get control of yourself; you’re a prince of Neuyokkasin. He looked at his companions.

  Tonelia froze. He listened; the guards were talking. She had her ear and both hands on the door. Her hand rose. Tournak and Saxthor froze, too. In the next instant, her frantic hands waved to get out of sight.

  While trying to get the ring on his finger, Saxthor turned too fast, tripping over a tall iron candle stand. The stand clanked, dancing on the floor before he could grab it. Though but a few clangs, it was enough to alert the sentries. Saxthor and Tournak disappeared in the furnishings, but opening the door, a guard saw Tonelia beside it.

  “What’re you doing in here?” the guard asked, his sword sliding from its casing.

  “Please don’t be angry, boys,” Tonelia said, with her head bowed. She glanced up, flashing the guards an innocent but seductive smile. “I was cleaning up earlier and dropped something. I just came back to get it. She swished and stuck her fingertip in her mouth. I was trying to be quiet so as not to disturb anyone.” She looked down like a child caught getting a cookie.

  “How did you get in?”

  “Well, when I came to the hall, you two were arguing over something you’d found on the floor, so I just opened the door and slipped in.” Tonelia bit her lip, then again penitent, looked down.

  The guard lowered his sword, studied her, then sheathed the sword and grinned. “What did you lose here?” the second guard asked.

  Tonelia looked around pretending to spot the scarf she kicked under a table earlier in case they needed an excuse to get back into the room. “There it is - that scarf there, under the table. May I get it?”

  The two guards looked at each other and then the scarf. “Ain’t nobody else asked for it,” the first guard said. His stance softened, warming to Tonelia’s smiles. He turned to the second guard. “She’s ain’t stealing the prince’s silver. That ain’t going to be trouble for us later.” They grinned at each other, the first guard poking the second on the shoulder.

  “Go get your scarf, girl, but don’t let us catch you sneaking in here again,” the first guard said. His head nodded with a predatory smile.

  Tonelia curtsied. She rushed over to the table and grabbed her scarf, then hurried back to the door. Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled at the guards, then hesitating, tucked the scarf in her blouse. She strolled down the corrido
r stopping here and there to be sure the guards followed. The guards closed the doors and shadowed her to the staircase.

  Saxthor came from behind a great chair and focused the moonbeams through the Celestial Fire Topaz onto the ruby eye that then shot beams to the wall. Enough time had passed, that the beam now struck a different stone. Something in the stone reacted with the light, and the beam turned scarlet. In the next instant, the block dissolved revealing a cavity. The scarlet beam struck the dark Green Emerald of Hope and the stone bathed the room in a brilliant emerald green glow.

  Saxthor held the ring just so and motioned Tournak to get the emerald before the beam moved off the cavity. Tournak dashed over, grabbed the emerald from its hiding place, and took it to Saxthor. Saxthor tucked the emerald in his breast pocket. The two men moved to the doors, where they peeked out through a crack. The guards were at the end of the corridor watching Tonelia as she sauntered down the hall with a little wiggle.

  “She knows they’re watching her. She’s keeping them away from here as long as possible,” Saxthor said. He drew an invisibility veil around Tournak and himself. The two of them slipped out the door and down the hall to a point opposite the guards. Tonelia was gone from view then, and the guards went back to guard the hall.

  “I thought we closed these doors?” the second guard said to the first.

  Saxthor looked at Tournak.

  “I thought we did too,” the first guard said. “You best be more careful.”

  “Me!” the second guard said. “What about you?”

  The arguing made enough noise that Saxthor and Tournak tiptoed around the corner and to the staircase without notice. Back at their room, the group drank a toast to their success as Tonelia sewed the emerald into Saxthor’s tunic.

  “Go to bed and get what rest we can. We need to get out of Prertsten Palace as soon as possible this morning,” Saxthor said. “Tonelia, you’re one clever lady.”

  “Who, me?” she said batting her eyelashes above a coy smile. “Why, whatever could you mean?”

  “One more thing, no one should ever mention this to Bodrin.”

  “Agreed,” Tournak said.

  * * *

  The Dark Lord’s eyes narrowed. I sense someone has used ancient elfin magic in Prertsten, he thought. Exactly where, I can’t pinpoint, but there was elfin magic at work in Prertsten that shouldn’t be there. As I remember, there have been unusual power surges and unexplained events I’ve not paid much attention to. Several years back, there was that unexplained power flash in the Highback Mountains that I never sourced. Didn’t the witch chase some Neuyokkasinian prince to Tixos, insisting he had some special power? Is there something to Earwig’s failed obsessive attacks on the obscure prince?

  I discounted it at the time, but I wonder if there was a connection with the sudden appearance of a Neuyokkasinian prince in Graushdemheimer. It’s time I found out about this strange energy, its purpose in Prertsten, and if there is a relationship to this mysterious prince.

  Hoya, Talok Tower, Tossledorn, Memlatec’s sudden appearance at Hoya, Hern – there’s a chain of events. How did Memlatec know about the wraith in Hoya? Then there were those reports of a Neuyokkasinian prince surfacing in Graushdemheimer. No member of the Neuyokkasinian royal family has set foot there in generations. There was that abrupt disappearance of my agent in Hador, a small band of subversives burning the boats at Feldrik Fortress, and now something going on in Prertsten. Were these events connected?

  The Dark Lord frowned as his boney finger followed the sequential incidents on his map of the peninsula.

  These aren’t isolated coincidences; they’re connected, he thought. Memlatec is up to something. Somehow, the energy trails, the destruction of the infiltrations coincide with this prince’s appearance.

  I must dispatch a wraith to find the power’s source. Someone is up to something in the area under my control, and I want to know who and what that is. “Smegdor!”

  “Yes, Master,” the aide said, from the workroom doorway.

  “The witch Earwig has reported for months that her nephew is still alive after disappearing off of Tixos years ago. Is it possible the bumbling witch is right in her ravings?”

  “One never knows what to believe from her, Master. Of what consequence is a minor Neuyokkasinian prince? As I remember, he’s not even crown prince.”

  “I’ll send a wraith to Prertsten to investigate the energy flux and another to talk with the mad witch. We’ll see what she might know. Perhaps it can keep Memlatec under closer observation, too.”

  “Shall I summon two wraiths, master?”

  “Yes,” the Evil One said. “There’s something going on under my nose. I need to know what it is before I unleash my armies on the peninsula.”

  4: Escape South from Prertsten

  Saber Wolves

  Next morning, the adventurers woke and had a veritable feast with the kitchen staff. They heard the official in charge of entertainment, who’d hired them, was cheap, keeping portions of fees for himself. They warned Saxthor that if he hadn’t gotten his fee in advance, the official would cheat him. Fearing entrapment after seeing the prince’s interest in Tonelia, Saxthor decided to anger the man so he’d expel them before the prince awoke.

  After they’d eaten, the master of entertainment came and paid Saxthor for his troupe’s performance. Saxthor bowed, but frowned. He thanked the Master of Entertainment through a sneer but tossed the coins in his hand, looking at them.

  “What’s the matter?” the official asked. He crossed his arms and stepped back. “Not enough for you?”

  “We really should get a larger fee,” Saxthor said. “We could’ve made more than that in the streets among the common people for such a performance.”

  The official puffed up, pleased with himself.

  “Well, that’s all you’re going to get. If you’re not happy with the pay, you can stop eating our food and get out of the palace. I should take out for the meal you just ate.”

  “No, no, Sir,” Saxthor said. He tucked the coins in his belt and bowed. “This will do. We’ll be on our way now.”

  The entertainment master smirked and left.

  “He’s pocketed the difference in, what he paid you, and what he got to pay you,” a kitchen helper said.

  “Yes, I know. We’ll just have to make up for the shortage performing in the city.” Saxthor turned to the others. “Hurry, get the gear. We’re leaving.”

  Reassembled, they followed an attendant to a service entrance at the kitchen’s far end. Without any ceremony, the troupe hurried out through the guards’ room into the streets of Prertsten.

  “Why did you let that official take advantage of us like that?” Tonelia asked, when they stopped to rest not far from the city gates.

  “You danced too well last night.”

  Tonelia became animated. She beamed at Saxthor. “You think so?”

  “Yes, but right now we need to keep moving. You impressed Prince Pindradese. He might want to see more of you. I don’t think you’d like that.”

  Tonelia looked puzzled for a moment, then blushing, jerked her head up, looking at Saxthor. “Oh … I see what you mean … Let’s go.”

  Saxthor lifted her chin and smiled. “Bodrin is a lucky man.”

  “Yeah - let’s go.” Tonelia took the lead toward the city gate.

  They quickly made their way through the streets stopping occasionally to do a short performance so their purpose in the city was convincing. Between the street performance rewards and the prince’s fee, they were able to replenish their depleted supplies before leaving the capital.

  The guards at the gate remembered the troupe and didn’t harass them, when leaving. A few choice taunts about venison would do before the troupe passed out of the guards’ sight and hearing.

  “Look at Bodrin,” Saxthor said, as the returning group sighted him before he spotted them. Bodrin was pacing up and down in the clearing with Delia, panting and pacing beside him.

&nbs
p; “Where’ve you been?” Bodrin asked. “I was about to come rescue you.”

  When she saw him, Delia broke ranks and, with ears flying and tail wagging, ran to Saxthor, demanding instant attention.

  “Dragons and wraiths can wait,” Bodrin said. “Delia’s going to lick Saxthor’s skin off. He’s not going to slip away from her like that again.”

  “I promised never to leave her, and she’s going to see to it that I live up to that,” Saxthor said. He was petting her, while trying to convince her to stop jumping up, then he looked up to see Twit, watching the people.

  “Look at Twit, looking down on all the fawning with condescension. For him the trip to the city was a nonevent, and Delia is just spoiling me.”

  Hendrel and Tournak laughed.

  “It just took longer than expected, Bodrin,” Tonelia said, through a comforting smile.

  “We were in and out of the enemy’s second most powerful fortress-city, where Tonelia got to dance for the prince. Saxthor only vaporized one guard,” Hendrel said grinning.

  “Danced for the prince?” Bodrin said, taking his arm from around Tonelia’s waist. He looked at her with raised eyebrows.

  “It was for the cause, Bodrin,” Saxthor said. “It was nothing like what you think.” He turned to Hendrel, who was looking sheepish. “You should be ashamed of yourself for upsetting Bodrin so.”

  “Oh, I am, I’m absolutely ashamed,” Hendrel said, but then he broke out laughing. “Astorax is the hero and he also earned us our supplies.”

  “I should’ve stayed in the forest of Heggolstockin, where I only had to deal with the hostile villagers of Girdane,” Astorax said. “I can see I joined the wrong group.” The band broke out laughing.

  It’s good seeing everyone so happy to be together again, Saxthor thought. This reunion has relieved the tension from last night’s hair-raising experiences. He looked over at Astorax who was introspective and sad. Saxthor went to him, “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Something’s wrong?”

  Astorax looked up at Saxthor. “Spending last night in the stable, with the horses, wasn’t very pleasant.”