by James Fuller
“This is only the beginning, Keithen… it gets so much better. Stick with me and I will make you a god among men,” Astaroth said coolly. “But let us dispose of this evidence. We do not want to be gone for too long, we might be missed by our ever so nosey friend.”
Keithen threw away the ice and it was quickly replaced with a column of wizards’ fire. It burned brighter and more smoothly than he had ever been able to cast before. His eyes moved from his hand to the corpses that dangled from the tree. He turned his hand forward and released the power, his flames licking and consuming the bodies of the wizards until nothing but burnt ash remained.
“We should just kill them,” Keithen said, watching the ash flake to the cold ground.
“And we will, when the time is right,” Astaroth confirmed. “First, I need you to do what you do best, Keithen. Sniff out our enemies, all of them. Find out all who may know our secrets so that we can strike them down as one!”
Keithen grinned. “I will.”
Lady Tora paced her bedchamber feverishly. Her lips moved as if she was speaking but no sound escaped, her mind flooding with questions that she tried to answer. Had she not been so wrapped up in thought, she might have found it ironic how many times she had caught her late husband doing just such a thing.
“If you continue to pace like that, you will wear a hole into the rug,” Lady Angelina said, as she closed the door behind her.
Tora stopped and looked at her friend and could tell she was wracking her brain just as much. “I am still trying to piece this all together.” She slumped down on the corner of her bed.
“I too have been unable to escape the constant questions that are plaguing my mind,” Angelina admitted.
“I just find it very strange that Berrit and Keithen have been seen together as often as they have… almost like they are friends?” Tora said.
“Or partners.”
Tora’s eyes widened at the statement. “You do not truly think…?” Angelina looked at her grimly. “No,” Tora protested, “He would not betray his own like that.”
“Why would he not?” Angelina asked. “Keithen has always been the black sheep of the castle; always off to the side, never in the spotlight. He does not have many friends and Ursa paid him little mind in training him with his Gift. His own mother cares so little for him, that she has had nearly no contact with him since he began his training. So really, what have we done for him that would keep him honorable to us?”
“Borrack gave him and his mother a home and work,” Tora bellowed, “when they had nothing!” Tora calmed herself, sitting down, trying to rationalize everything.
“It is sad, but it could very well be true. Keithen’s always wanted acceptance and praise. Maybe he is being manipulated with such a thing?”
Tora stood from her bed and began pacing again. “This has just added more questions to an ever growing list.” She halted her steps. “We will need to confront him.”
“I highly doubt he would tell us anything,” Angelina stated. “Also, it would only alert them that we know more than they may think we do.”
“We will just lock him up until he tells us what he knows,” Tora argued.
“He is Gifted,” Angelina reminded her. “He may not be very well trained, but his powers still make him dangerous.”
Tora sighed. “I had not thought of that.”
“Keithen has never been known for his intelligence,” Angelina added slyly. “We may be able to play him out from under Berrett and into our hands.”
“How?”
Angelina’s smile widened as she adjusted her olive-green dress, amplifying her cleavage. “Why…the way woman have been playing men since the dawn of time.”
“You, my dear friend, are a dangerous woman.”
“You do not know the half of it.”
Tora stood and made to follow Angelina, a questioning look crossed her face. “But what if we are wrong?”
“I am more worried about whether we are right.”
“My Lord, should we not make camp for the night?” Dagon’s captain asked, riding up to match his horse.
Dagon surveyed their surroundings in the fading light. They were not long from the castle if they could ride hard, but Dagon wanted the element of surprise - riding in with this many men would alert his enemy. “Yes, we will see Draco Castle in the morning.”
“Yes, my Lord.” The man saluted and rode off to relay the order.
“What are you doing?” Master Wallace replied. “The plan was to ride all night and get there while everyone was sleeping so we could confront him without the whole castle alerted to what is going on.”
“The plan remains the same, but we travel to the castle this night… alone,” Dagon replied. “I feel something in the air. Something is wrong.”
“I, too, feel something is amiss, but do you think it wise to go in alone?” Wallace asked.
“No, but my gut is telling me we cannot wait.”
Wallace knew Dagon had his mind made up. “All right, you and I will end this tonight,” Wallace replied with a darkening look.
“Yes, we shall,” Dagon muttered, his eyes staring coldly off in the direction of Draco Castle.
Keithen slouched through the halls of the castle, his stride much slower than normal. He strained his ears in the hopes of picking up any voices or murmurs that he might eavesdrop upon.
As he passed each door, he slowed just a little more, in the hopes of catching someone on the other side without giving way to his presence. He had heard several idle conversations, but nothing of the nature he was looking for. One of the servant women had gotten pregnant from one of the married soldiers and feared what would become of her. Another had stolen a bottle of fine red wine from the cellars.
Frustration was getting to him. He had already cased the first two floors of the castle and had heard nothing of use. The castle seemed quieter than normal, which was odd at this hour while it contained this many guests. He was just about to climb the stairs to the third floor, when he heard two female voices coming down the stairwell.
Panic coursed through him for a moment as he looked for a place to hide so he could eavesdrop, but to no avail - there were no such places around. So as not to look suspicious, he continued walking towards the stairs.
“Oh Keithen, what are you doing up at this hour?” Angelina beamed.
Keithen was taken aback that she would acknowledge him. Normally the ladies of the castle merely glanced at him with distaste and continued on. “I… I was just stretching my legs before bed, my Lady.”
“What a coincidence, as are we,” Lady Tora replied, with a big, welcoming smile. “Would you care to join us, Keithen? We would love to have your company.”
“Wha…? Really?” Keithen stuttered, confused.
“Of course we would, Keithen,” Lady Angelina chimed in eagerly.
“Why?” Keithen asked, still confused.
Tora looked around her, as if nervous. “Well to be honest, Keithen, we do not feel safe at this late hour by ourselves within the castle.”
Keithen twisted in even more confusion. “Why would you not? We are safe here.”
“Too much has happened now for a woman to feel safe, even within the great walls of Draco Castle.” Tora rested her hand upon the grey stone of the wall. “Borrack was murdered in his very room; my husband Tundal struck down by an assassin in his office. Even the disappearance of Master Samuel and a servant girl has raised questions.” She watched Keithen’s face sink at the mention of the servant girl - she had heard he was fond of her. “And with war breaking out across the kingdom,” she sighed, “it just makes me feel unsafe.”
Keithen swallowed the lump forming in his throat back, guilt starting to sweep in. “I… I guess you are right.”
Angelina rested a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “What she is trying to say is we would feel much better if we had a strong male escort like you. Will you oblige us?”
“Of…of course I will!” He boasted prou
dly, all thoughts of his original plan fading.
“Such a gentleman,” Angelina smiled.
They flanked him on either side and began to walk in a leisurely pace back down the hallway.
Keithen could not help a smug grin as they passed by two patrol guards, who looked at them oddly. Yes, Keithen - the kitchen dishwasher and untrained wizard - was in the company of two of Draco’s most beautiful and powerful women. It gave him a sense of authority and he felt a stir in his loins he had to suppress. Maybe when he and Astaroth took over the castle, he would be allowed to let those stirrings come to life. He grinned at the thought of what their flesh would feel like beneath him.
“I am actually glad we ran into you, Keithen,” Tora said. “There is something I have been meaning to talk to you about.”
Keithen’s steps nearly faltered. “Wha… what about, my Lady?”
“Well, before Tundal was…” Tora did her best to hold her tone steady, “murdered… we talked about our eldest daughter, Salvira, and the fact that she is coming up to the age to be wed. You know her don’t you?”
Keithen blushed slightly at the thought of the beautiful girl. “Yes.”
Tora smiled. “Good, she talks fondly of you. Tundal and I talked of who we thought would be a good suitor for her. You were our first choice, Keithen.” Tora watched as the young wizard’s eyes lit up with awe and excitement.
“Really?” Keithen blurted out. “I… I do not know what to say, my Lady…”
“I understand this is a big decision, Keithen, and one I do not expect you to make right this instant. Please think on it - it is an important match,” Tora said.
Seeing Keithen’s confusion, Angelina jumped in. “If you did wed Salvira, it would make you Lord of Drandor.”
Keithen’s eye lit up and he gasped out loud. “A Lord… me?”
“Yes, it would be a very big decision for you and one that would elevate you greatly. But I need no answer this moment, think on it and get back to me.”
The trio walked in silence for a while before finally Angelina broke the silence. “So how is Prince Berrit doing?”
Keithen’s steps slowed momentarily before he replied. “What do you mean?”
“He has seemed to take a liking to you and you two are always together it appears,” Angelina said, “which is great because I am sure he needs a friend, seeing as how he is so far from his homeland and family.”
“Yes, that is very true,” Tora added. “We feel just awful that he has no one here to relate to.”
“Yes, I guess that is true,” Keithen replied, still off guard.
“It is good of you to befriend him; I am sure it helps for everyone, though it is surprising that he has taken so kindly to one with the Gift,” Angelina said causally, watching Keithen’s reactions like a hawk.
“He said it was because…” Keithen paused, trying to think of something smart to say. “He is trying to better understand the Gift, so he is no longer ignorant.”
“That is wonderful!” Lady Tora replied enthusiastically. “So, how is he doing?”
“Fine, I guess.” Keithen replied normally, falling for the ruse fully now. “Mainly, he just likes to keep to himself… and me of course.” He finished proudly.
The ladies knew now, without a doubt, that something was amiss. From the way Keithen had acted throughout their conversation - from his tone and facial expressions - they knew.
“Well, this is our stop,” Tora said as they came to a stop at her door with Lady Angelina’s door across the hall.
“Oh, yes of course.” Keithen laughed a little and turned around to face them to say goodnight. He was just about to speak when Lady Tora’s door opened wide and out stepped Master Mervyn and Master Regis. “What were you doing in Lady Tora’s room?” He asked suspiciously, his eyebrow cocked up.
“Keithen, we need to talk,” Master Mervyn replied firmly.
“Wha… what do you mean?” Keithen stuttered nervously, again taking a step back.
“We know what is going on, Keithen,” Regis said, taking several steps to the side, trying to surround him.
Keithen took another step back, his eyes darting from the wizards to the Ladies. “I do not know what you are talking about,” He stammered. “What is this?”
“Do not lie to us, Keithen,” Lady Angelina barked. “We know the truth of your…relationship with Prince Berrit.”
“There is no need for this to turn ugly, boy. Tell us everything you know and you will be rewarded, not punished,” Master Mervyn told him, taking a slow step towards him.
Terror flashed through Keithen’s eyes as he realized the truth. They knew everything and this had all been a setup. The friendliness towards him from Lady Tora and Lady Angelina had been a ruse, to get him to talk. Though he did not say anything that would give them away, he knew his actions and body movements had betrayed their secret. His eyes darted this way and that, trying to find the best way to run.
“Keithen, do not be foolish!” Lady Tora told him angrily, seeing his panicked searching.
“We are your friends and this is your country. Do not betray us any further than you already have,” Angelina said.
Keithen’s eyes met hers squarely. “My friends? My country? What have any of you done for me? You belittled me, ignored me, and even my own Gifted brethren have no faith or respect for me.”
“That can change, Keithen - just have faith in us now. Help us and all that will change, I promise,” Tora replied, guilt filling her heart.
“Just come into the room, Keithen, and tell us what you know,” Regis said, his tone firm and unwavering. “All this can be put right.”
“Never! Astaroth is my Master now and I will never betray him!” Keithen screamed, swinging a punch that landed hard on Tora’s face, toppling her into the others before he bolted down the hallway toward Berrit’s room.
“Are you all right?” Angelina asked, helping her friend up.
“I am fine… do not let him get away!” Tora cried, but Master Mervyn and Regis were already in pursuit, calling for the guards.
Keithen ran as fast as his legs would carry him down the stone corridors, swerving gracelessly through a handful of servants. How could I let them fool me like that! It was so plain to see now; how they had baited him so easily. He was a fool and had now ruined Astaroth’s plans. The thought almost made him stop in his tracks. How would his Master deal with his failure? Likely, he would kill Keithen, yet at the moment, Keithen was a dead man anyway. If he did not reach Astaroth in time, they would both be dead.
Two guards heard the yells of the wizards down the hall and stepped in to intercept him. Keithen tried to dodge the guards, but could not. One of them grappled his arm and without thought, wizard’s fire flared up, blistering the soldier’s hands. He screamed in agony and let go, crashing into the wall, staring at his ruined hands. The second guard pulled his sword and stepped forward, but a thick icicle embedded into his chest, stopping him in his tracks as Keithen ran passed.
Three more guards met a gruesome end by the time he reached Astaroth’s door and he knew the two wizards - and likely, an army of soldiers - were right behind him. He slammed into Astaroth’s door, swinging it wide open. “They know!” He called out, seeing Astaroth at his desk.
“What?” Astaroth stammered as he got up from his desk, but even as the question left his lips, he knew what Keithen meant.
Keithen slammed the door shut and slid the locking bar in place. “They know everything and are coming for us!”
“How long do we have?” Astaroth growled, but before Keithen could answer, he could hear the pounding on the door.
Keithen’s eyes welled up, fear causing him to lick his lips. “What do we do?”
Astaroth stared down at the paperwork on his desk, all of it incriminating. He stole a glance at the doorway, contemplating the odds. With a quick, rueful glance behind him, and he seemed to make up his mind. With a single thought, the papers burst into flames, leaving behind a smold
ering pile. “We run.”
The door to the Zandorian prince’s room exploded as an arc of power struck it, sending burning fragments everywhere. Master Mervyn and Regis stormed in at the ready, a handful of armed guards behind them.
“Well, that was quite the unnecessary entrance,” Berrit said, strapping his sword belt on calmly. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“We know everything, Berrit,” Mervyn said, “or should I say, Astaroth.”
“Then I guess there is no more need for this little ruse.” Berrit’s form wavered away and before them stood Astaroth in his true form, drawing several angry gasps from the soldiers in the doorway. “You know everything, do you?” He laughed. “That is indeed a bold claim to make, wizard.”
Regis took a step forward, his hand crackling with energy. “Just give up and make this easy for yourself. You are trapped - to fight would only invite death.”
Astaroth suppressed a snarl - he knew he was outnumbered and his chances of escaping dwindled by the moment. He cursed to himself; this was not how things were supposed to work out. He was not destined to die here. The thought brought him comfort and a twisted smile crossed his lips. “And if I surrender…what then?”
“That is not for us to decide,” Mervyn replied coldly, not liking his enemy’s response.
Keithen had slowly moved his way closer to his Master. His heart pounded furiously in his chest; he thought it might explode. He knew they were trapped and would be taken prisoner and, more than likely, put to death. That thought caused his heart to beat harder. He stole a glance at Astaroth and was surprised to see his demeanor was composed.
“I am sick of this!” Regis spoke, lifting his energy-shrouded hand.
Astaroth’s hand moved impossibly fast and two twin blades launched at the wizards. Regis was barely able to avoid the attack and the blade flew past him, embedding into a soldier’s chest behind him. The other struck Mervyn high in the shoulder, a finger’s width from his neck. He fell, crashing into the guards behind him.