“Then take my coach when you go. Two of my men will go with you to guard you at all times. Be careful. It would be sensible to take your son Cringle with you.”
“Oh no King Georgio, he has better things to do than hang around with his mother all day while she tries on umpteen dresses. I’ll take you up on the offer of the coach though. Thank you.”
“Charge all your purchases to me. There’s enough in the treasury. Look upon it as catering to an international foreign dignitary.”
Yletta gave the King a warm smile and thanked him profusely before withdrawing.
Cringle wasn’t happy about Yletta going shopping on her own. He’d taken to skulking around the palace, applying the training he’d received from Merdon to listen around corners and observe who met with whom and where servants went. All was not as it seemed and security was lax but he couldn’t be exactly sure where the traitors were although he had a few, well-founded hunches.
“No, Cringle. I don’t want you with me. I’ll be going from store to store and will be trying on clothes all day. It’ll be a waste of your time and besides, I’ll have two guards with me and a coach at my disposal.”
Cringle gave up. It didn’t pay to argue with one’s mother.
Next day Yletta set off in the coach with the two guards perched on the back of it. It was wonderful to be able to pull up in front of an expensive establishment in the king’s coach and have people bowing and scraping as she swept into the store followed by her two guards. The service she received was excellent everywhere she went and soon there were packages and boxes strewn inside the coach. After lunch there was one more establishment to check out. It was quite large and there were a number of customers there already when she arrived but the owner of the store appeared immediately to serve her.
Yletta took her choice of dress to the changing rooms to try it on. There were two or three of them side by side and one other was occupied. She closed the curtain and started taking off the garment she was wearing and that’s the last she remembered.
Her two guards, sitting at the front of the store, were bored with this shopping expedition. Who wanted to sit around all day while some foreign woman tried on clothes? At least it got them out of palace duties, which could be quite onerous. The store owner was standing, waiting for Yletta to reappear. When she didn’t, the woman went back to the changing rooms and found them empty. She returned to the guards.
“Where’s your Mistress?” she asked them.
The guards looked mystified.
“What do you mean? She’s trying on dresses down the back.”
“No she isn’t. I just went to find her and she’s not there.”
The two guards looked at each other momentarily then simultaneously leapt to their feet and raced down to the changing rooms. They were indeed empty.
“Where’s the back door?” One yelled.
The store owner took them to it.
“It’s kept locked at all times and only I have the key.”
One of the guards tried the door and it swung open to his touch. Outside was an alleyway leading back to the main thoroughfare. He ran along it and looked up and down the street but could not recognise anything unusual in the throng of the busy city-centre retail area. He shook his head as he made his way back to his fellow. One of them had to tell the king.
Yletta felt jarring. She was trussed up and lay under some form of covering. She smelt fish. A groan escaped her lips involuntarily and the motion stopped. A corner of the covering was lifted and she blinked in the light, hearing one of her captors.
“She’s waking. Quick, where’s that draught? They told us to keep her out of it or she’d use magic.”
Use magic? Yletta was confused but there wasn’t much time for thought as she was roughly seized and a small vial placed between her lips. Someone pinched her nose and she was forced to swallow the contents. The last she heard was.
“That ought to do it.”
King Georgio was furious. He ordered the two guards disciplined, even though they’d called out the City Guard and started searching for Yletta immediately. Cringle was anguished. He knew he should have accompanied Yletta in spite of her argument to the contrary. Well it was too late now, someone had taken her. He wondered if it was petty criminals who were just after a quick ransom or something which ran a lot deeper. Why take Yletta? Was it something to do with King Georgio? The King himself came to talk to Cringle.
“I’m sorry Cringle. I feel really bad about this. Your mother should have been better guarded but none of us suspected she would be abducted.”
“The fault is not yours Sire, she stubbornly refused to be accompanied. If anything I blame myself but that won’t bring her back. We’ll just have to keep searching and pursuing lines of inquiry. Maybe there will be a ransom demand.”
For some reason both men thought that unlikely but neither said anything. Georgio went off to order further searches while Cringle quietly slipped into the servant passageways of the palace to see if he could learn anything further.
Yletta heard the lapping of the water and felt the motion of waves as she came too. Her tongue was furry and her mouth dry. She felt weak and her head hurt. She was on a boat, tied up securely and it was quite dark. Someone came with a lantern and held it up over her.
“Don’t try any magics or you’ll die. Were on a boat at sea, you’ve been kept knocked out for four days and we figured you’d maybe die before we got to where we’re goin’ so we let you wake for water and food.”
The light went away and returned. The man had a pannikin and a plate. He put the lantern down and stepping into the hold space she was in, untied her bonds.
“Any sign of trouble or magics and we’ll kill you,” he told her bluntly. “We’d rather deliver you and collect our bonus than throw you over the side dead but we will if’n we have to.”
Yletta gratefully took the pannikin from his hands and drank deeply. The water was clean and cool with a slightly old taste to it. There was a piece of bread and a lump of dry cheese but it didn’t matter, she found she was quite hungry and wolfed it down. She looked at her captor, sitting waiting for her to finish.
“I don’t have magic. You’ve got the wrong person.”
The man considered her for a moment.
“No matter to me, I get paid to deliver you. They told me it was you they wanted and to watch out for magic. So here we are. You can have a minute on deck to attend to your needs then come back down here. Any sign of magic and we’ll knock you out again.”
Yletta was grateful for the opportunity he’d given her and took as little time as possible before she returned. ‘Knock her out again.’ That would explain her headache and the lack of memory regarding her capture. The man tied her up once more but not as tightly as before and she settled down on the pile of canvas. It must be a sail locker she was confined in. There were worst places.
The days passed as she was held captive. Eventually her captors took pity on her and she was allowed to be free below decks. The hold space smelled of fish and although she wasn’t experienced around boats, Yletta got the feeling it was a fishing vessel. Made sense, it would be virtually unnoticed if there was a search going on and they could sail a long way without drawing attention. No one really noticed fishing boats. On the way to where they were going they weathered a storm which threw the little craft around and took its toll on the two men sailing it. Fortunately, the storm didn’t last long as Yletta felt quite ill with the movement of the boat and couldn’t keep anything down.
Back in Harrington every avenue of investigation had proved fruitless. The woman who owned the store was well known and had been a seller of women’s apparel for a long time. She was above suspicion. The kidnappers had forced a lock on a back door and waited for an opportunity to grab Yletta who’d apparently made no sound. After that she’d virtually disappeared. There was no ransom demand yet and Cringle had a bad feeling about it all. The two drakons didn’t know Yletta well enough to feel her mi
nd and although they flew reconnaissance flights, nothing turned up. One thing did come to light though. Cringle’s skulking around the staff corridors resulted in the capture of a spy. The man stoically refused to talk under duress until Vistala decided to have him taken outside. She conferred with Traginal and the black drakon walked over to the prisoner, opened his mouth and placed it over the man’s head and shoulders. There was a scream from within the jaws and the spy started to talk.
Cringle went to see King Georgio.
“Apparently there is a small network of spies in your palace and elsewhere in Boronia. They work for Alesander, Duke Erkhart’s chief spy and gather information for him which is sent south by pigeon. They know virtually everything you do here. We found most of them when the one I caught talked. Thanks to Vistala’s ingenuity. We also got their dovecot so they can’t send any more messages for a while.”
King Georgio sat tapping the arm of his chair. He came across as a plump and jovial fellow but he was King and had been trained during all of his princely years to make decisions and take decisive action.
“It’s too much Cringle. I’ve watched Duke Erkhart from afar for many years. I envy Melintana the protection given by their drakons but that’s all. Look at Septican. A fine man and a Healer to boot. His son’s been executed and he and his grandson persecuted. Then there’s the attempt on Prince Lermond’s life and maybe the death of his parents too.”
Georgio rang a bell and a servant slipped into the room.
“Go and summon the heads of the army and the navy. Interrupt whatever they are doing. Tell them it’s important.”
The man rushed off to do as he was bidden and Georgio turned back to Cringle.
“I’m a patient man but this is too much. We’re going to war.”
Yletta was told to stand up and turn around then place her hands behind her. She felt the ropes bite as she was tied up.
“Sorry Yletta, nothing personal but we’re goin’ to be coming into the harbour soon and we’ll have to take you up to the palace. We wus told to deliver you trussed and gagged and with a bag over yer ‘ead. We have to; otherwise we’d not get paid proper.”
Before they placed the gag over her mouth, Yletta spoke.
“Could you at least tell me where we are? Please.”
Her captors looked one to the other and when one shrugged, the other told her.
“Conurbal, capital of Melintana.”
The last thing Yletta saw was Conurbal’s harbour, as a black cloth bag slid down over her face obscuring her vision. Eventually the boat stopped rocking and soon after she felt the bump as it nosed against the wharf. It didn’t take long to walk her off the boat and into a waiting carriage which rumbled away over the cobbles, heading for the palace.
The carriage pulled into the courtyard and came to rest. Yletta was roughly manhandled from its interior and half dragged into the palace audience hall. The men who had hold of her were not those from the fishing boat. These men were impersonal and self important. Eventually it all stopped and she heard a well modulated voice say.
“Take the bag off and let me look upon the Mage.”
The bag was removed and she found herself looking at a man in his late forties, early fifties. He was well dressed and had a goatee beard. His hair was still dark and so were his eyes. As she stared at him, she felt the familiar ache in her head but this time it was different. The man’s face went white and he staggered, backing to sit down on the throne behind him, staring intently at her face before whispering in a hoarse voice.
“Yletta. After all these years. I thought you dead. Don’t you recognise me sister?”
She did. Finally. Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes. For two reasons. She had finally found the brother she had thought lost and the other? He turned out to be Duke Erkhart, the Black Duke.
20. One of the Spawn
It was a sombre group which gathered in the conference room of the king’s palace at Harrington. King Georgio sat at the head of the table. To his right was his Chamberlin, who had been in service to the royal family of Boronia for what seemed like forever and who just happened to be the father of one of Georgio’s childhood friends. To the king’s left sat Earl Bentson, the Commander-in-Chief of Boronia’s armed forces. Next to him was the Admiral of the navy, Sir Willam Vigtry, dressed in his resplendent blue uniform. Variously down both sides of the table sat Septican, Cringle, Vistala, Prince Lermond and even Kristen, who had personally been invited. She didn’t know why but Georgio was no fool, this young woman knew more of the inner workings of the palace at Conurbal than anyone else presently living in Boronia. The king started the proceedings.
“Right. We’re here to plan a war. Simply. If I said we march most of the army down to Melintana along the highway and send a thousand or so by ship to land north of Conurbal and attack around the harbour, what are the drawbacks?”
Without having to give any thought to the matter Prince Lermond demonstrated his grasp of leadership.
“There are drakons on patrol. They look out for Reavers but still your army could be seen and maybe the drakons will attack it. We don’t know if Serkahn rules the hive yet or not.”
Earl Bentson politely coughed to get attention.
“Sorry Prince Lermond, we in Boronia don’t know much about drakon politics. Would you mind explaining it to us.”
The Prince steepled his fingers before him as he thought for a moment or two before answering.
“A drakon hive is ruled by the queen. About a hundred years ago, Zaldara, the present Queen, lost her mate to a tunnel collapse. She turned a lesser prince of Melintana into the male drakon we know as Serkahn. We don’t know how she did it but she needed a mate and decided it was a good way to get one. However, the prince who became Serkahn was once third in line for the throne of Melintana and that gave him a thirst for power. Eventually he and Duke Erkhart found each other. Duke Erkhart vies for the throne of Melintana and possibly Boronia as well while Serkahn thirsts for power over the hive. They are a deadly partnership. Ruthless. I nearly died from the poison Erkhart gave me. A subtle and deadly poison he obtained from Serkahn.”
As the Earl was thanking Prince Lermond for his thorough reply, Kristen shyly stood up. The Prince noticed and as he and Kristen had spent a lot of time together, he knew she wanted to say something.
“Go ahead Kristen.”
“Your Honours, I just want to add something. Serkahn doesn’t live at the hive. I think he lives on the Duke’s estates. Quite a few years ago now they started tithing villages for young girls of fifteen summers that had already started the womanly flow. No one knew what happened to them after they were taken. It was assumed the drakons ate them, a small price to pay for protection from the Reavers but it isn’t so. I overheard the Duke telling one of his Captains to take a load of those girls to his estate and lock them in the cellars. It’s nothing to do with the Queen of the drakons. I believe Serkahn alone is responsible for that demand.”
Kristen sat down abruptly, embarrassed at talking in such important company. The King himself thanked her.
“Well done. If you can think of anything further Kristen, don’t hesitate to tell us. You might remember more such details.”
Kristen glowed. Praise from a king.
It was the Admiral’s turn next.
“If I’m to take ships anywhere near Melintana, I need to know how the drakons attack Reavers. Just in case they attack us.”
The Prince answered again.
“Their mode of attack is to spray venom in a fine mist as they fly over the ships. Sometimes the venom poisons the Reavers on contact, sometimes it burns them.”
Septican interrupted.
“We know that drakons can alter the composition of the poison in their venom sacs. Mostly it reacts with air when it’s sprayed out. The Prince was poisoned by a special venom Serkahn made to order and Zirca, our queen made the antidote which cured Prince Lermond. We have to find a way to stop the drakons from attacking the army or the navy
when they head south.”
Cringle decided to advance an idea.
“Most of us know that magic doesn’t affect drakons but the indirect effects of it should. I could travel with the army and use magic to blow the drakons away from flying over it but I can’t protect both army and navy at the same time.”
There were glum looks around the table, this was becoming a larger problem than they had at first thought.
Vistala had sat listening, waiting for an opportunity to speak. She took it now.
“I’ve been talking to Zirca about that very problem because she’s going to have her own hive one day and needs to think of controlling the drones. She said she could possibly fly down to southern Melintana and talk with Zaldara, her mother, the Queen of the hive there. It would allow her to find out if Serkahn rules the hive or not and if no, beg her mother to allow troops and ships from Boronia to invade Melintana. Apparently the agreement Zaldara made was to protect Melintana from Reavers which we clearly aren’t and she particularly dislikes the Duke for supporting Serkahn over her.”
Heads came up and all of a sudden there was a change in the atmosphere in the room. Now they took notice of the slip of a girl who rode drakons. She was not someone to be ignored.
“Will she fly alone?” Georgio asked.
Septican answered.
“Not if I have any say in the matter. Vistala and I will both go. Vistala will ride Traginal, who surprisingly has a little magic of his own and I will ride Zirca. I have some magical abilities at my disposal which may help us on our quest.”
Georgio seemed pleased.
“When do you plan on leaving?”
“Tomorrow Sire, tomorrow.”
Cringle signalled his desire to talk.
“Yes Cringle.”
“Do we believe my mother Yletta is in Conurbal?”
The King and his Commander-in-Chief conferred, heads together, before the King answered.
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