Authors: Brock E. Deskins
“The palace is abuzz with word of Evelyn’s pregnancy. Congratulations,” Gregor said when he entered the room.
“Yes, but now it practically takes an act of parliament and an armed escort for me to climb into her bed since the confirmation,” Gordon replied sourly.
“You’re the king. I doubt it is much of a challenge for you to find some other warm place in which to spend the nights.”
“It is not just about that. I do like a challenge, but her rebuffing strikes a blow to my ego.”
“You are culpable in the murder of most of her family and have made her a prisoner within her own home. I imagine that would put a damper on most anyone’s amorous inclinations.”
Gordon rolled his eyes. “Still, it wouldn’t kill her to be a bit more welcoming.”
“Well, since we do plan for her to have an accident once your heir reaches his age of confirmation…”
“About that. Is it entirely necessary to kill her?”
“Are you developing feelings for her? Such a thing could be rather dangerous and extremely inconvenient to our greater goals.”
“I understand that, but it’s just that she is quite pleasing to the eye, and I find her intelligence and willfulness desirable.”
“I think I know what is happening. You have never had to work for anything in your life, particularly when it came to girls. The household maids and common women likely threw themselves at you in hopes of you falling in love with them and raising their station. Now, you have an attractive young woman who would rather hump a cactus than share your bed, and you can’t stand the rejection.”
Gregor laid a hand on Gordon’s shoulder. “What would happen if we let Evelyn live and she produced a second heir?”
“An heir and a spare are practically demanded. I don’t see the problem.”
“What if the second son is not yours? That puts another bloodline just one step away from the throne.”
“She would never harm one of her children no matter who the father was.”
“What about others; people who despise you and The Guild? Your son would never live to wear the crown. No, we must extinguish the Altena line completely, or we risk losing everything.”
Gordon sighed. “I suppose. Speaking of death by sexual proclivities, have you discovered anything untoward regarding Captain Owens’ demise?”
“More untoward than strangling to death while he abused himself? No.”
“Such a bizarre thing to do. Wasn’t he part of the contingent that went with Queen Damodara when she and Marcus met their end?”
Gregor nodded. “He was the officer in charge.”
“You do not suspect foul play?”
“There was certainly foul play, but I am confident it was entirely of his making. My agents have spent the past two months investigating his death and found no sign of conspiracy.”
Gregor spoke the lie with ease. He suspected there was indeed another hand involved in the officer’s death. Three soldiers from the Queen’s guard detail were missing and five were found dead in their barracks of apparent alcohol poisoning. The fools had apparently gotten a bad batch of hooch, killing five of them outright and permanently blinding two others. He knew there were elements within the capital and throughout the kingdom that plotted against Gordon and The Guild, but he felt no need to worry the King with the details.
Gregor guided him toward the door. “Come, I have something that will cheer you up.”
The agent led Gordon through the palace halls and down several flights of stairs. Torches in sconces replaced the oil lamps lighting the halls above, and there was a noticeable increase in moisture in the air and on the walls. Gordon had never been to this part of the palace, and he surmised that few had. For those who did, it was likely an unpleasant experience.
A pair of soldiers stood guard outside a closed door at the end of the passageway. They saluted at Gregor and Gordon’s approach, but it was clear that the honorific was directed more toward the agent than their king. One opened the door to the chamber beyond and closed it behind them.
Victor leaned against one wall, and a small, scrawny man with long, stringy black hair stood over a table bearing several odd assortments, the most notable of which was a bowl filled with blood. He glanced up at their entrance, and Gordon noticed that he had blood smeared across his forehead and around his eyes.
“What is this?” Gordon asked, his stomach fluttering at the macabre scene.
“This is Moriban,” Gregor answered. “He is god-touched and says he can help us find out exactly where Adam is.”
“Moriban? Why do wizards always seem to have such bizarre names?”
The man smiled, revealing several missing teeth, and bobbed his head. “My given name is Tim, Highness, but I felt that Tim did not create the air of mystery I wished to cultivate around my persona. Even Tim the Terrible felt lackluster, so I chose one that sounded a bit more ominous.”
“I could care less if you called yourself a cheese sandwich. I’m not likely to remember it after I leave this room anyway. You think you can find them?”
“Yes, and I already have!”
“How?” Gordon asked.
Moriban gestured to the bowl of blood. “Agent Ward said he was certain they were traveling from the Highland Range into Arnao. There are only a few villages near the mountains, and all of them have large herds of goats. By applying some goat blood and using my magic, I can see through the goats’ eyes. It was inevitable that they would pass near one of the herds, and so they have, and I have found them.”
“You can see them now?”
“If I concentrate, yes.”
“Could I?”
“I could apply the blood to you, and then you could see them.”
“Can I talk to them?”
Moriban nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes! My magic is strong and very useful…and valuable I must say.”
“Would I be in any danger?”
“Oh, no, not at all. While you would experience everything the goat does, like hearing and seeing, it is a simple matter of breaking the spell to separate your senses from the goat.”
Gordon smiled. “This sounds fascinating. I can’t wait to see the look on Adam’s face when a goat talks to him. Do it.”
Gregor cleared his throat. “Gordon, are you sure about this? I think we should let Moriban relay our message to Adam. While I am sure Adam will listen, I cannot vouch for Garran’s reaction. As he said, you will experience what the goat does, including pain.”
Gordon looked to the god-touched man. “Can he hurt me?”
“If he does something to cause pain, you will feel it, but you cannot suffer any real injury.”
“Do it. I am not afraid of a little pain. Just be ready to break the spell.”
“Of course, Highness. Just close your eyes.” Moriban dipped his finger into the bowl, drew bloody rings around Gordon’s eyes, and dabbed it onto his ears and forehead. “You will feel a force in your mind like someone leading you by the hand. Relax and let it draw your senses forward. You should be seeing an image in your mind now. It is likely blurry and dim. Just keep concentrating and it will gain clarity.”
“I see it!” Gordon cried. “I’m in a field. There are patches of snow on the ground. I can feel the cold. This is amazing!”
“Look around. You should spot two travelers walking the road nearby.”
Gordon swiveled his head from side to side, his human eyes closed but his goat eyes seeing everything. “Yes, I see them! I recognize Adam. At least I think it is Adam. I have not seen him since we were children, but I am sure it’s him. He’s walking with some homeless beggar or something.”
“That would be Garran,” Gregor said.
“That vagabond is the one who has been causing us all this trouble?”
“It is foolish to underestimate him.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible. I need to get closer.”
“Command the goat to walk forward much like you would your own legs,” Moriban instructed.
Gordon stumbled and braced himself against the table. “I almost fell. Moving four legs is a lot more complicated than walking on two. I think I got it.”
***
Garran nudged Adam with his elbow and laughed. “Look at that goat.”
“Is it drunk?” Adam asked.
“Looks like it. It could have gotten into a patch of rapture root. It happens sometimes.”
The two watched the goat stumbling toward them in a drunken, ambling gait. It walked right up to them and stood directly in their path as if to bar their passage.
“Hello, Adam,” the goat said.
“Oh shit!” Garran exclaimed. “Did that goat just talk?”
Adam nodded. “Yes, it did.”
“Thank God! I thought I had blended too much opium into my tobacco twist and finally lost it.”
“No, someone is using some very dark and forbidden magic,” Adam said with a deep scowl. “Gordon, is that you?”
“In the flesh…well, in the goat flesh.”
“This is twisted even for you.”
“You made it necessary, Adam.”
“You tried to kill me! You murdered my family and forced my sister to marry you!”
“There has been a huge misunderstanding that I deeply want to remedy.”
Garran grabbed Adam by the elbow and pulled him away. “What exactly is going on?”
“Gordon apparently found someone who is god-touched and lacks any semblance of morality or respect for the law. He is using a spell that puts his mind into that of the goat’s.”
“So he can see and hear everything as if he were here? What about feel?”
“Since he was able to make the goat walk, then I assume he shares its entire nervous system.”
“Can we kill him?”
Adam shook his head. “No. He would feel the pain of the knife or whatever, but the spell would be broken as soon as the goat died.”
“But he would feel pain?”
“Until he broke the spell, yes, then he would return to his own body unharmed.”
Garran smiled. “Keep him distracted for a minute.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Some pain is easier to forget than others. Just keep him focused on you.”
Adam stepped back toward the goat. “What do you want, Gordon?”
“I want to apologize for much of what has happened. I had nothing to do with your parents’ and brother’s death. The assassins sent to kill you were also a mistake. I have no desire to see you dead. Are you still holding to your vows of celibacy?”
“I am. What of it?”
“All you have to do is return to the palace, and I promise you that no harm shall come to you or Evelyn.”
Adam watched Garran sidle around behind the goat out of the corner of his eye. “What will you do then; toss me in a dungeon until I die of old age?”
“Of course not. Obviously, your movement would be restricted, as is Evelyn’s, but you would be free to enjoy a full life within the palace walls. Surely it is little different from what you experienced in the abbey and a better existence than you enjoy now. I can’t imagine living with Hillman savages was terribly pleasant.”
“You cannot expect me to trust you.”
“I have made promises to your sister, and she has secured my good intentions. Besides, you are going to be an uncle soon. Wouldn’t you like to be here for the birth of your niece or nephew?”
Garran was now standing directly behind the goat. Adam could not quite see what he was doing until the weight of the reaping blades hanging from his belt pulled his trousers to the ground with an audible clatter.
“Garran, what are you—”
Garran thrust his hips, the goat’s eyes rolled back into its head, and it released the most god-awful, mournful bleat Adam could ever imagine an animal uttering.
***
Gordon fell forward, sprawling across the table, and knocked the bowl of blood and other implements to the floor. His eyes were wide with shock, and his mouth opened into a cavernous gape as it released a strangled cry.
“Break the spell!”
Moriban rushed to the King’s side. “Highness, what is wrong?”
“Break the thrice-damned spell!” Gordon screamed, his voice thick with panic.
The god-touched took up a rag and hastily wiped the blood from Gordon’s face and ears. Free from the spell and Garran’s brutal assault, Gordon stood straight, took several deep breaths to steady himself, and stormed up next to Victor.
“We know where they are and where they are surely going. I want you to send couriers to Brolla with a message for King Anton to hold Adam and Garran until you arrive. You will kill Garran in the most humiliating and painful manner imaginable and return with Adam.”
“Let’s not act too hasty,” Gregor said.
Gordon spun on the agent, his finger raised. “No! I will not be dissuaded. I am the king, and this is my command! Victor, when Gregor retires, you are my new chief agent. It is time for you to step up and show me you are ready for the task. Can you do it?”
Victor shrugged. “Sure, I can do it. I should be able to make it to Brolla about two days after the courier. If Adam and Garran don’t get horses any time soon, I should reach the capital within days of their arrival.”