Authors: Lana Axe
T
he following
morning, Ryshel’s father arrived. Duke Arden was tall and broad-shouldered, his
face seeming younger than its sixty years. He was eager to lend assistance to
the king in any way he could.
“It is good to see
you, Your Majesty,” he said as he stood before the king. “I thank you for
inviting me to court.”
“Welcome,” Efren
replied. “I have named you my First Advisor. Your wisdom is appreciated here at
court.”
“I am pleased to be
of service,” he replied, bowing.
Ryshel hurried to
her father and hugged him tightly. “It’s good to see you, Father,” she said.
Arden beamed proudly,
squeezing his daughter in his arms. “My daughter is a queen,” he said. In all
his imaginings, he had never pictured his own child on the throne of Ra’jhou.
Though the deaths of the two previous kings had saddened him, he could not
contain his pride. His own grandchildren would ascend the throne someday.
“Your Majesty,”
General Willem said, interrupting the pair. “I have brought the man you
requested. Perhaps we may discuss your plan now.”
A slender man of great
height stood next to the general. With a few tweaks, he would look exactly as
Efren desired.
“We will discuss it
further in private,” the king said, standing. “Duke Arden, you shall accompany
us.”
“Of course, Your
Majesty,” he replied. He followed closely behind the king, who led the men into
a small chamber next to the throne room.
“Close the door and
make sure no one is outside of it,” Efren said. “Duke Arden, describe this man
to me.”
“He is taller than
most men, standing a head taller than General Willem,” Arden replied. “He is
slender of build and has deep-set eyes. His skin has a heavy touch of the sun,
and his eyes are blue.”
“That should do
nicely,” Efren replied.
“This is Kal,”
General Willem said. “He is a fine archer and an intelligent man. I have
observed my men closely these past few days and could think of none better to
serve you.”
“I need someone to
pose as a mixed breed,” the king stated. “Can you read, Kal?”
“I can, Your
Majesty,” Kal replied.
“Good. You will
have much to learn, and quickly.”
“I’m afraid I don’t
understand,” Arden said. “You plan to disguise this man in some way? What is
his mission?”
“Yes, he will be
disguised,” the king stated. “He will pose as a half-elf. With luck, he will
infiltrate the Na’zoran army disguised as a potion maker. I intend to poison
their mages.”
The room fell
silent as the men digested the king’s words. The plan had merit, and it could
prove a great success. Infiltrating the Na’zoran army, however, would be no
easy task.
“Majesty,” the
general began, “this plan seems rather difficult. How do we get him past enemy
lines? How does he convince them he’s an elf?”
“If I may speak,”
Kal said, looking to the king for approval. “I once traveled to Al’marr, where
ships from Ral’nassa often visit. They purchase gems there, and some of their
sailors frequent the taverns. I know more of the Enlightened Elves than most
men, and I have no doubt I can imitate one.”
“Can you manage the
accent?” the general asked.
“I can,” he
replied, speaking as if he were a native of Ral’nassa. “I have heard them speak
plenty of times. I can explain away my ears with a story of my low birth
between a tavern girl from Al’marr and a ship’s captain from Ral’nassa.”
A broad smile came
over Efren’s face. “I think you shall do nicely,” he said. “You sound as if
you’ve already been preparing for the role. General Willem, I will leave the
details to you and Duke Arden. Get this man prepared and find a way to slip him
behind enemy lines. They won’t refuse his services, as they have great need of
their potions. I have exchanged letters with Na’zora’s original suppliers, and
they no longer desire to remain involved in the war.”
Willem was stunned.
How could the king have possibly cut off Na’zora’s supply of potions? Though
frustrated that he had not been privy to the scheme, he chose not to ask
questions. Whatever the king had done, it would only help Ra’jhou’s cause. Now,
the general had a new matter to attend to—getting Kal safely in front of the
Na’zoran army.
“You are certain
Na’zora will have need of this man?” Arden asked.
“I am,” Efren
replied. “The Na’zorans will readily accept his help. You have your orders.”
The king exited, leaving the three men behind. His confidence was high that the
plan would succeed. Cutting off Na’zora’s potion supply had been no small
victory. If Kal could manage to poison the mages, the tide of war could take a
dramatic turn in Ra’jhou’s favor.
“You’re sure you’re
up to this task?” Arden asked.
“I am, my lord,”
Kal replied. “Nothing would please me more than to rid Ra’jhou of its greatest
enemy.”
Willem shook his
head. “Kal, you have no training in magic. These men may believe your look and
accent, but they will never believe you are a potion maker.”
“Yes, the king was
quite short on details on that point,” Arden commented. “Still, we have been
given a task to perform, and we shall see to it. I assume there is a library in
this castle? I haven’t had much time to acquaint myself with the surroundings.”
“There is a library
on the third floor,” Willem replied, his brow furrowed.
“We should start
there,” Arden stated. “We need every bit of information we can find on
Enlightened Elves and potion making.”
The three men found
their way to the library, where an elderly gentlemen sat dozing behind a desk.
The room was covered in a light layer of dust, suggesting few others had
visited recently.
Arden cleared his
throat, hoping to wake the librarian. “Excuse me,” he said. “We are searching
for information. I need to know about magic and potions.”
The old man stared at him groggily, his expression
slightly puzzled. “Whatever for?” he asked.
“It interests me,” Arden replied impatiently.
“Where might I find it?”
The old man rose from his seat and plodded toward
a shelf at the eastern corner of the library. Sliding a tall wooden ladder
along the rows, he pointed to the top of the stacks. “If I have the information
you seek, it will be there.”
Arden stared at the old man a moment, realizing
that he would have to climb the ladder himself. Grabbing onto the rungs, he
climbed to the top of the shelf. The librarian was correct. The top row was
filled with books on the subject of Ral’nassa, the Sunswept Isles, and specific
topics of arcane studies. One volume in particular caught his eye—
Magical
Abilities in Humans.
Arden smiled and nodded. “This one might prove
useful.” Grabbing the book, he tossed it down to Kal.
“I don’t suppose there’s one titled
Potion
Making
, is there?” He grinned at the duke and raised his eyebrows.
Arden descended the ladder with an armload of
other books. “I’m afraid not,” he said. “Looks like we’ve got some reading to
do.”
S
hala walked
casually through the castle corridors, hoping to avoid suspicion.
Act
normally,
she told herself.
No one knows what you’ve done.
Arriving
at Aubriana’s chambers, she stepped inside, looking back over her shoulder only
once.
Aubriana sat on her balcony, staring off at the
Wrathful Mountains. Leaning heavily upon one hand, she took no notice of her
maid’s presence. Her mind focused on the scene before her as she tried in vain
to drive away thoughts of her son.
“My lady,” Shala said, her voice shaking slightly.
“I have some news.”
Aubriana turned her eyes to Shala, but her
melancholy expression did not change. Whatever news the girl had brought would
not be the news Aubriana longed for. The only thing she wished to hear was that
her son had been sent to stay with her. Nothing else mattered.
“You said I should keep my eyes and ears open for
any information that could help you reunite with Rayne,” the girl said. “I’ve
heard something that might help.”
Now she had the princess’s attention. “What is
it?” she asked eagerly. “What have you heard?”
Shala shifted nervously and took a seat near the
princess. “I overheard a conversation. The king is planning something that,
well…,” she trailed off.
“Tell me, Shala!” Aubriana pleaded. “What is it?”
“The king wants to infiltrate the Na’zoran army.
If you let Tyrol know about it, then he might consider you a friend. At the
very least, he will know you weren’t spying for Ra’jhou.”
Aubriana looked deep into Shala’s eyes,
contemplating her words. “Shala, you must tell me everything you heard.”
“King Efren, Duke Arden, the general, and another
man who I do not know, met secretly to discuss poisoning the Na’zoran mages. It
seems they want to send the tall man in posing as a half-elf. He is to offer
his services as a potion maker.”
Aubriana shook her head. “That won’t work. The
mages get their potions from the Sunswept Isles. King Tyrol pays a fortune for
it.” Her heart dropped, knowing that Tyrol would take no interest in such
information.
“King Efren seemed to think he had changed that.
He didn’t go into details, but he said their original supplier would not be
sending any more potions.”
“You’re certain of it?” Aubriana asked. She
wondered how Efren could have accomplished such a task. To her knowledge,
Ra’jhou had no relations with the Sunswept Isles.
“Yes, my lady.”
“So, this man will offer his services, and the
mages will be glad to have it,” the princess said, thinking out loud. “They’ll
accept him eagerly, and he will poison them.”
“I believe that is the plan, my lady,” Shala
replied.
“Efren must know this servant will be killed once
he’s discovered. The man must be expendable.” In her mind, she began to justify
what she was about to do.
“I didn’t hear anything like that,” Shala said.
“There was no mention of how the man was to return once the deed was done.” The
maid had not followed the men when their meeting was concluded. She feared
being discovered and having to explain why she was listening to their
conversation.
“They didn’t mention it because he won’t return.
They’ll know who is responsible for the poisoning, and they’ll kill him.”
Aubriana swallowed hard, wondering if this might truly endear her to the Na’zoran
king. This unknown man’s blood would not be on her hands, would it? He was
doomed either way. “I must compose a letter to Lady Bartin,” Aubriana said decidedly.
“It’s the king you must inform,” Shala replied.
“He won’t take a letter from me,” the princess
stated. “He will think it’s another plea for my son, and he will throw it
away.”
“How will we get the letter there?” Shala asked.
“Leave that to me,” Aubriana replied. “I still
have friends who will help as long as I meet their price.” Hurrying to her
dressing area, she stopped at a small wooden box and retrieved a golden
earring. “This should be more than enough,” she said.
Sitting at her writing desk, she took up her quill,
but no words came. Was there a chance Efren’s plan could succeed? If so, Ra’jhou
could likely win this war, and she might then be able to retrieve her son.
No,
she realized.
Even without their mages, Na’zora’s army greatly outnumbers
Ra’jhou’s. I must do this.
With a shaking hand, she wrote:
My dearest Lady Bartin,
I hope this letter finds you in good health. I
have arrived in my childhood home, but I find myself missing Na’zora with every
breath. I long to hold Rayne in my arms and tell him I love him. I hope he is
not sad over my departure. I would have him be happy each day, even if I am not
there to see it.
I have learned of a matter that might interest
King Tyrol, if you would be so kind as to relay a message. I trust that he is
wise enough to allow you to speak on my behalf. King Efren is sending a man
disguised as a potion maker. I know Na’zora has need of one. The man will
appear to be a half-elf and will arrive soon. Do not trust him. He intends to
poison the mages to eliminate them as a threat. He must be stopped. I hope the
king will listen to you, as this is a serious matter.
Sincerely,
Princess Aubriana of Na’zora
Aubriana shoved the letter away from her,
stretching her arms across the desk. Her heart pounded in her ears as she tried
to take deep breaths to calm her nerves. Was she doing the right thing? Would Tyrol
believe her? Did this letter make her a traitor against her own family?
Aubriana sighed. It was unclear which kingdom she should support. This place
felt like home, but her son was destined to rule Na’zora. Would it be so bad if
he ruled Ra’jhou as well? Only one man’s life would be lost, and she considered
him lost anyway. Efren was sending him to his death, so what difference did it
make whether it was sooner or later?
With a quick movement, she folded the letter and
sealed it with red wax. “Shala you must carry this for me,” she said. Handing
her the letter and earring, she said, “There is a servant in the kitchens who
will know what to do with these.”
Shala nodded and hurried from the room, determined
to deliver the letter right away. There wasn’t a moment to lose if the letter
was to reach the king in time.