by Victor Kloss
A guard appeared. “Lord Samuel. Would you please come through?”
The chair creaked under Lord Samuel’s bulk as he stood up. He was clearly pleased that he had been called first and gave the others a pompous nod before disappearing through the door.
The minutes seemed to drag out and even Michael started to feel tense. Finally, the door opened and Lord Samuel re-emerged, his face redder than usual. He looked straight at Michael with a scowl of open hostility, before stalking off. What was that about? The other directors appeared equally baffled.
“Lady Charlotte Rowe,” the guard said.
Charlotte rose, her anxiety washed away by fierce determination. Michael gave her an encouraging nod as she walked into the royal suite.
Time passed just as slowly before Charlotte came out again. Unlike Samuel, there was no anger, just a thoughtful expression as she left.
The remaining directors came and went until Michael was left alone in the hallway. He was surprised to find he felt slightly disappointed at being last.
“Michael James Greenwood,” the guard said.
Michael approached the doorway and entered the royal suite, his heart beating a little faster.
Queen Elizabeth sat on a gilded chair at the centre of a spacious, exquisitely furnished room. To her left was a display of her famous armour in all its glory, the golden sword floating inches from the ground. Michael smiled, remembering the first time he’d seen the sword, at his entrance examination for the Institute. That had been an interesting day.
Michael bowed and the Queen beckoned him forward. There was nowhere to sit, but he was more comfortable standing anyway.
The Queen looked tired. She tried to conceal it, but Michael knew her too well. Her auburn hair and pale face were as flawless as ever, but there was a weariness in her eyes and her back wasn’t quite as straight as usual.
“Michael Greenwood.” Elizabeth let his name hang in the air. There was a hint of a smile on her face. “After all these years I never thanked you for repaying my faith.” Michael looked at her with surprise and Elizabeth continued. “My advisers, Lord Samuel among them, tried to dissuade me from promoting you, the baker’s apprentice, and Charlotte to the Institute’s highest echelon.”
“Then it seems as though I should be thanking you,” Michael said with a bow. “However, if I may correct you on one point – I was no longer a baker’s apprentice; I became fully qualified several years ago.”
Elizabeth’s smile wiped the weariness from her face. “That is why I like you, Michael. You speak your mind, even to me.”
Michael waited patiently for her to continue. This idle talk was clearly a prelude, but he knew better than to press her.
Elizabeth turned to her armour and her humour faded. “My armour is not safe here.”
The announcement caught Michael by surprise. “How can that be? Surely there is no safer place than the Institute?”
“Safe from the outside perhaps, but not from within.”
Michael felt his stomach lurch. “You suspect treachery?”
“The lure of power is an irresistible force.”
Michael instinctively thought of Lord Samuel. Suddenly, the man’s troubled face made more sense. What had the Queen said to him?
“My armour must be kept safe for Suktar’s eventual return.”
“Suktar’s return?” Michael said, a little too loudly. Then in a softer voice. “I hoped he hadn’t survived after we defeated him in Taecia.”
“We may have routed his army, but Suktar got away. The High Council warned me the Armour’s magic could not be fully harnessed by a single individual. In my arrogance and greed I ignored them. There were repercussions, especially to myself.”
The Queen paused, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her hands gripped the armrests, fighting a sudden tremble. When the Queen's eyes reopened, Michael noticed a subtle gold tint to them.
“He will return,” the Queen continued, calm once more. “It may not be for decades or even centuries, but we must be ready when he does.”
“What is your plan, Your Majesty?” Michael asked, for she clearly had one. That’s what this was all about.
“My Armour shall never again be owned by one man or woman. It shall be split amongst you and the four other directors.”
Michael stared at Elizabeth’s Armour, allowing the magnitude of her order to sink in. The story behind the forging of the Armour was one of Queen Elizabeth’s most guarded secrets. Much was speculated, but little was known about its power.
“The Institute is not to know of my Armour’s fate. It must be kept safe, handed down to your descendants, until Suktar returns.”
“I am honoured,” Michael said, with a bow.
“Do not be. I have burdened you with a great responsibility.”
“Will your son not wonder why he isn't to inherit it?”
“I will deal with my son,” Elizabeth said firmly. Yes, there was a definite hint of gold in those brown eyes. “Henry of all people must not know my Armour's fate. If he has even the slightest inkling of its whereabouts, he will go mad searching for it. Should Henry don the Armour, the consequences would be dire.”
Michael very much wanted to know the reason behind such ominous portents, but knew better than to ask. He turned his attention to the magnificent suit of armour. Each piece had a specific purpose.
“What am I to be entrusted with?”
“You shall take the sword. It was crafted for the sole purpose of ending Suktar’s life. That objective will fall on your bloodline.”
“May I know which pieces the others will take?”
Elizabeth thought for a moment. “I will tell you only this – Lord Samuel has the shield. He must be at your side, protecting you against Suktar’s mightiest blows. You two have the greatest burdens.” Elizabeth sensed Michael’s unease. “I know your opinion of him, but Lord Samuel’s courage cannot be doubted. It is a trait I hope his family carries with them.”
Michael bowed. That left the helmet, the boots and the breastplate. Each served a particular purpose. He wondered who was taking what.
Michael assumed the meeting was over, but Elizabeth was looking at him again, gauging him.
“As guardian of the most powerful element of my Armour, the task of re-assembling it when the time comes will fall on the Greenwoods.”
Michael met her stare with a note of pride. Queen Elizabeth had seen him last not because he was least important; quite the opposite.
“It shall be done, Your Majesty,” Michael said.
There was a flash of white light and the memory faded. Ben felt himself being sucked back into his body.
“Ben!”
Charlie was shaking him. He and Natalie were bent over, staring with anxious faces. Ben was lying on the ground, his back wet with mud.
“Are you okay?” Natalie asked as Ben got to his feet.
Ben was too stunned to speak. Bits of the memory kept replaying in his head. Michael Greenwood. Queen Elizabeth I. Her Armour. Her son. Suddenly everything made sense. His parents were searching for the rest of Elizabeth’s Armour. The realisation made him want to scream with joy and sigh with relief all at once.
“What happened?” Charlie asked urgently, holding Ben’s shoulders.
It took Ben a moment to find his voice. In that brief interlude, something caught his eye behind Charlie and Natalie.
Movement in the trees, footsteps, voices.
Charlie and Natalie began to turn round, but Ben grabbed them.
“Behind the boulder!” he said, and they scrambled to safety. Ben risked a peek, his heart hammering.
Wren and Alex appeared through the trees. Alex looked a mess. His face was bloody, his hooded cloak torn and his jeans scorched and ripped. Yet he somehow retained a relaxed stance. Wren, by contrast, seemed no worse than when she had faced off with Elessar. If anything it looked like she had managed to tidy herself up. Her hair was now in a long ponytail and what Ben could see of her dress in the
remaining light looked cleaner than before. The only sign of battle was a gash on the side of her face.
Ben, Charlie and Natalie rose in relief.
“There you are! We need to get off this island,” Wren said. “Reinforcements will arrive soon. Are you all okay?”
Charlie and Natalie nodded.
“My parents were up here. I saw them,” Ben said.
Ben thought they might not believe him, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. The weariness in Alex and Wren vanished. Alex hobbled around the small hilltop like a man possessed, touching boulders, sniffing the grass. Wren didn’t move, but Ben got the impression she was somehow searching just as thoroughly.
“Here!” Alex said. He was leaning down by the smallest boulder. “Tracks. Thirty minutes old.”
Wren came over swiftly. “They’ll be gone by now,” she said with disappointment.
Alex and Wren stared for some time in the direction of the tracks.
“Did they leave anything here?” Alex asked, turning towards Ben.
Ben suddenly felt strangely reluctant, but he showed them the spell pouch. Alex took it eagerly and peered inside. “It’s empty.”
“There was a pellet inside, but it activated as soon as I touched it.”
Both Alex and Wren were looking at him very closely. “Did anything happen?”
Ben felt all eyes on him now, including Charlie’s and Natalie’s. He thought quickly, knowing any hesitation would be treated with suspicion. “It threw me backwards and I blacked out.”
“Is that all?” Wren asked. God, she had a penetrating stare! Ben wondered if those grey eyes could magically detect a lie.
“Yes, that’s all,” Ben said, forcing a look of innocence and meeting Wren’s eyes without a flinch.
Alex cursed, scrunching the spell pouch into his pocket. Wren continued to stare at Ben a moment longer. When she finally looked away, Ben had to resist the urge to sag his shoulders with relief.
“We should get going,” Wren said.
Ben could feel Charlie and Natalie looking at him as they set off down the hill through the trees. He desperately wanted to tell them about Michael Greenwood’s memory, but it would have to wait.
— Chapter Thirty —
Apprenticeship
“We owe you an explanation,” Wren said.
Ben wondered when they were going to get around to that. He had so many questions he barely knew where to start.
“Everything that has happened here revolves around your parents. We were trying to find them.”
“It’s a long story,” Alex continued, “but we think Greg and Jane might be the only people able to stop Suktar.”
Ben felt both their eyes on him again. It took some effort to remain cool. Did they know about Elizabeth’s Armour? Did they suspect he knew?
Wren continued. “You may remember I went to Riardor to help repel a dragon raid, which is why we didn’t see each other the morning after your stay at Hotel Jigona. Normally the dragons get discouraged after a day, but this particular raid was unusually persistent. It was only when Alex sought me out and told me about Colin and Draven’s deal with Elessar that I realised what was happening. The dragon raid was being created by the dark elves in an attempt to keep me away from the Institute. I returned at once, but you had already left.”
“To Borgen to find the wood elves,” Ben said.
Alex took over. “Shortly after, Wren and I received an unusual summons to the Commander's office.”
“The Commander?”
Ben must have raised his voice because everyone turned to him in surprise.
“What did he want?” Ben asked, with forced composure.
Alex gave him an odd look before continuing. “The Commander was in one of those rare moods when he acts like a leader. He told us about your execution and ordered Wren and I to drop whatever we were doing to rescue you. Somehow he had detailed maps of the Floating Prison and knew exactly how to get in and out.”
Ben was careful to mask his confusion. How much did the Commander know about Elizabeth's Armour? Alex continued and Ben reluctantly pushed thoughts of the Commander aside.
“Wren and I thought we could save you and make contact with your parents at the same time. All our attempts to find your parents had failed – they were sure to surface to rescue you.”
“But they didn’t,” Ben said.
Wren and Alex exchanged uncomfortable looks.
“We made an error of judgement,” Wren said.
“What she means is – we messed up. They must have seen Wren and myself on the hill and assumed we were there to rescue you. Our plan was to trick your parents like we tricked you. We wanted to make it look like I had changed sides and betrayed Wren. Unfortunately, they didn’t buy it.”
Ben rubbed his forehead. “If you wanted my parents to show up, why not just wait out of sight? That way my parents would have had to rescue us.”
“Now that’s a good idea,” Alex said with a smile, staring pointedly at Wren.
Wren shook her head. “That was Alex’s original plan, but I felt that it was too risky, especially when we learned Ictid would be present.”
“Ictid?”
“King Suktar’s son, the Prince of Erellia. He is a dark elf of incredible power. Even Greg and Jane would have had trouble pulling off a rescue attempt with him there. I wanted to be on hand if anything went wrong. Unfortunately, your parents thought we were there to rescue you.”
“I waited until the very last moment,” Alex said. “I was sure if we didn’t do anything, your parents would intervene.”
Ben felt his stomach sink a little. “But they didn’t.”
“I have no doubt if I hadn’t stopped Elessar, your dad would have.”
“Then why did you intervene?”
Alex turned to Wren who answered. “I wouldn’t take the risk. I told Alex to act if there was no sign of your parents.”
Ben recalled the moment Elessar had tried to execute Natalie. Could his parents really have intervened if Alex hadn’t? It seemed impossible. He recalled Elessar’s sword inches from Natalie’s neck. How could they have possibly stopped that?
“Why didn’t you tell us what you had planned?” Ben asked, frowning at Alex. “My heart stopped when I saw you with Elessar.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Alex replied, having the good grace to appear momentarily sombre. “Your reactions were necessary to fool both Elessar and your parents.”
It was starting to make some sort of sense, but Charlie clearly wasn’t finished.“When did they capture Wren? From what you told us, she returned to the Institute just after we left for Borgen.”
“Ah, finally we come to the part of my brilliant plan Wren didn’t object to,” Alex said, struggling to raise a triumphant bloody hand. “I met with Elessar and convinced him I was done with the Institute and willing to trade Wren and Ben for valuables.” Alex took out a small bulging pouch and wiggled it. It glowed purple and radiated an energy that made Ben wonder at its contents.
“Elessar fell for that? Because he doesn’t strike me as the type easily duped.”
“Elessar and I were already well acquainted; I have been working for him these past six months. The dark elves are always trying to infiltrate and destroy the Institute from within. In the hope I might learn more about their search for Greg and Jane, I convinced them I was ready to switch sides. I had to cough up a few costly Institute plans, but it earned me Elessar’s trust.”
“Alex already had a reputation for being a bit of a loose cannon, so it didn’t take a great leap of faith for Elessar to make an alliance,” Wren said.
“What she means to say is I don’t confine myself to the needless red tape imposed by the Institute. So I struck a deal with Elessar and we set a trap for Wren.”
“Which I allowed myself to walk into,” Wren continued. “It was the only way I could get close to the action.”
“But how did you know they wouldn’t kill you after capturing you?”
Ben asked.
“She didn’t,” Alex said, “but I managed to persuade Elessar it would be better to add Wren to the bait and dispose of her after.”
“So the whole thing was to get Ben’s parents,” Charlie said softly.
Alex nodded. “Indeed. Unfortunately, they called our bluff. We must think of another way to get hold of them.”
Ben kept a calm face, but inside his heart was racing. Charlie, lacking Ben’s knowledge of his new memory, was still frowning.
“If you think Ben’s parents are so important to stopping Suktar, why don’t they come back?”
“That’s a very good question, Charlie,” Wren said. “Initially we thought it was due to the Institute’s ridiculous declaration of treason, but I have a feeling they will not return even if it’s removed.”
Ben felt Wren’s stare but said nothing. He wondered again if she knew anything about Elizabeth’s Armour.
He became vaguely aware they weren’t heading back the way they had come. Of course, the location of the exit gateway was always different to the entrance. At the base of the hill they were joined by the Spellswords who had survived the battle. Together they formed a loose circle, with Ben, Charlie and Natalie in the middle. Wren and Alex moved a little distance apart to talk quietly between themselves.
Ben paid little attention to the darkness and unwelcome landscape as they walked. He kept replaying his ancestor’s memory, still trying to take everything in. Michael James Greenwood was his ancestor. Was that the same Michael James marble statue at the Institute? It must be. For some reason his surname had been omitted from history. Ben felt a shiver up his spine knowing he was related to the original Director of Spellswords, a legend within the Institute and one of Queen Elizabeth’s right-hand men. What an unbelievable secret for his parents to conceal. What other secrets did they have? One thing was perfectly clear: going back home was not going to help find his parents. He needed access to the Unseen Kingdoms. To get that, he needed to join the Institute, but that was a problem. The Institute was strictly invitation only. Neither Wren nor Alex had made any such offer. What was going to happen when they got back to Taecia? Were they going to send him home for good? The thought caused him endless worry and he worked frantically on a solution, knowing with each passing minute he was running out of time.