They walked down the thoroughfare and into a seamstress’s shop, then through it and out the side door and into the side door of a general merchant’s shop, then to the back of the building. The man slid a crate out of the way to reveal a latch in the floor. He pulled it and Milandro heard a click as the trap door lifted up. Holding it, the man said, “Go.”
Milandro looked down into the blackness. He stepped down onto the rung of a ladder then felt with his foot for the next one. He climbed down at least twenty rungs before his foot felt something solid. “Get out of the way unless you want me to step on you,” the man said, coming down behind him. He had shut the trap door, leaving them in blackness. Milandro stood still while the man moved in the darkness, then there was light from a match. In the man’s hand was a lantern providing enough light he could see he was in a tunnel, not a room.
The man led him along, taking some turns Milandro couldn’t track, until they came to a door. He knocked twice and a voice within said “Come.” His escort pulled the door open then pushed him inside, shutting it behind him and remaining outside.
“I understand you wish to employ our services?” As the voice spoke, a shadow wearing a full-length black cloak seemed to materialize in front of him.
“Ye—yes,” he stuttered.
“Tell us the details.” The voice sounded female and her use of the plural indicated there were others, but he could see none of them.
“I want the youngest princess dead. Then, after a period of mourning, I want the betrothed of the second princess dead.”
The assassin in front of him laughed. “You are a schemer. If we decide to do this for you, when would your black heart would like the deed done?”
“The princess you can kill tonight or tomorrow. I don’t care, just do it soon. The other can wait for a moon. I care only that it gets done before another suitor tries to worm into my plans.”
“A hundred gold is our price.”
“That is outrageous. There is no way—”
“Then find a way. You ask us to kill royalty and lords. Did you think it was same as killing the son of a merchant? A hundred gold is our price.”
“I have twenty with me. I’ll pay you that and thirty when it’s done. Then I’ll give you the other fifty more before the next moon.”
“No. The other fifty in fourteen suns or we come after you.” The assassin stepped closer and looked up just enough for him to see her mouth move. In the faint light, it looked as if her teeth were sharpened. “Milandro, who so desires power. I’ll rip your throat out with my teeth if you even think about crossing us.”
She knew him, which meant she knew where he lived and probably much more. “I will not cross you.”
“Good. You will know when the princess is dead. Leave the other thirty at the inn by midnight the next day or—”
“You’ll rip my throat out, yes? It is all very clear.”
“Our servant will show you out. Do not ever try to come here or—”
“You’ll rip my throat out?”
“No. I’ll bite your balls off and eat them. Then I’ll rip your throat out.” The assassin laughed. Milandro reached for his money pouch and found it missing. The assassin tossed it up and caught it in her hand, showing him she already had it, and then let the light fall on the blade she had in her other.
When the door opened behind him, Milandro turned and walked out. He had no idea how the man in the hall knew to open it and wasn’t about to ask. The walk back took much longer than the walk in. When he finally climbed up the ladder and exited the building they were in, he found himself a long way from the palace. His hands trembled and his legs felt weak. It was not what he expected. He had thought it would be the way he was used to conducting business. While he had tried to put on a brave face, he knew she saw right through him. He swore to himself—for being a coward, but a coward is what he is—and began walking, hoping his horse was still at the inn.
He decided to go straight to the palace and not be any later than he already was. He would have a servant freshen up his clothes and wipe the sweat from his body, then make his apologies to all for being late. His betrothed would be there. It made him laugh that he would have to dote on her right up until the assassin ripped her throat out. He imagined what the assassin would say to her before she rent the princess’s flesh with her sharpened teeth. He laughed louder at the thought, then caught himself, his eyes darting around to see if anyone was looking at him. Soon he would be free and that would be a joyous day. The first step of his plan would be complete.
Walking fast, he made the trek in reasonable time and found his horse still at the post outside the inn. He rode far faster than he should’ve, yelling for other riders and walkers to get out of his way. He arrived at the royal stables, having ruffled many feathers in his haste, and jumped off his horse. “Tend to my horse,” he ordered. “I’ll be departing later in the evening. Make sure it is ready.” He offered no thanks or tip, leaving a grumbling stable hand in his wake.
Fourteen
“Murders, your highness?” Jarol asked. “We came across a lad burying his father and brothers. We weren’t witness to what happened and wouldn’t have been there at all had the rangers not directed us to leave the capitol road and take a round-about way to get back to it.”
“And why would the rangers have you travel out of your way?” Queen Esmirelda asked.
Jarol studied the five royals in front of him. The king was still angry, though for what Jarol didn’t know. Could be just their presence. The queen’s question was an honest one. It wouldn’t have crossed her mind that something devious was happening behind the scenes. The older two sisters seemed bored, but the youngest was on the edge of her seat. There was no mistaking she had some emotional turmoil she was trying and failing to mask.
“We thought it was but a taunt or prank, possibly to make us angry, but we didn’t take the bait.” Next to him, Theralin sighed. “It is common occurrence among soldiers and warriors, so we rode on as directed.”
“Can you prove what you say is true?” the youngest princess asked. Jarol turned toward her and smiled. He was happy she asked.
“We brought the lad who was burying his family with us. It seemed wise, as he was there before us and can tell more about what he found when he arrived. He hadn’t been there long, though. His horses were still lathered and upset. He had driven them hard pulling a wagon.” Jarol paused. “I can also say we already know who did the deed and it seems they have been dealt with. There was evidence of their demise left on the road.”
“Where is the boy?” King Illiand asked.
“He is in the stables with our horses. When our business is concluded, we are taking him north with us.”
“Guard, go to the stables and bring the boy before me.”
“Yes, My King,” the guard answered and hurried from the hall.
“Does the boy require a healer? Is he hurt?” the princess asked. Jarol detected a hint of concern in her voice.
A side door opened and an elf dressed in fine clothes hurried to stand next to two others. Jarol had noticed the two earlier when he assessed the room for threats. Obviously, the young nobles were connected to the princesses, judging by where they stood, and they definitely presented no threat. The youngest princess glanced at the newcomer, frowned, then turned her attention back to Jarol.
“Nothing more than a few bumps and bruises,” Jarol answered. “There is no need for a healer. Thank you for offering.”
“Why are you taking him to the north?” the princess asked.
“Why do you care? He is not an elf or of this land,” Theralin replied.
“Let her talk.” Jarol leaned in and whispered, “She knows something, and she isn’t going to steal your toy.”
“She doesn’t care,” King Illiand interjected. “You said you know who is responsible and that there is evidence to support it.”
“Yes, Your Highness. It was a band of renegade goblins. Their arrows littered the campsite.
We think it was a raiding party of about fifteen,” Jarol lied, knowing the number was close enough to the truth.
“Arrows can be bought,” the young noble who had been late said from where he stood.
“Let me ask a question, Your Highness, if I may,” Jarol said, ignoring the young noble. “Are any members of your house Dragonfriend?”
“No,” Illiand said. “The few remaining dragons are recluses most of time. There has been no opportunity for such a bond to be made in my lifetime.”
“Then you’ll appreciate this warning. We found the bodies of the goblins. They were burned to the bone, along with everything in the wood around them, by dragonfyre.”
“You are young to know what dragonfyre looks like,” Queen Esmirelda said. It was a fair statement.
“Aye, that be true, Good Queen. Our general is young, but I am not, and I believe you are younger than meself, though I think I be much prettier,” Stonehead said and winked at the queen. “I have seen and smelled what comes from both ends of a dragon and you not be forgetting it once you do.” Jarol was about to thump Stonehead when he saw the queen smile. The king said nothing, which was a relief. There were some gasps and chuckles from the crowd.
“I believe you, and you are right—partially right. You are much older than I am.” The queen laid her hand on the king’s arm again and whispered. They conferred back and forth until interrupted.
The doors that Jarol and his people had come through opened behind them and Jarol heard footsteps. “Jerk my arm one more time, you pointy-eared bastard, and I’m going to hurt you,” Jarol heard Morgan say and he cringed. He looked at Theralin and motioned with his head. She stepped around him and went to intercept them. He heard a fist hit, then Morgan groaned and feet shuffled forward. “Apologies,” Theralin said, addressing the guard. She held Morgan by the ear and forced him to his knees.
“Our apologies, King Illiand, Queen Esmirelda, Princesses. Our captive has spirit and a mouth on him. I intended to break both later, though now I wish I had already done so,” Theralin said and bowed. The royals said nothing while they studied the boy on his knees.
Jarol glanced down at Morgan, who was looking at the elven royalty spread out before him on thrones and chairs. Morgan turned his head slightly then stopped and blatantly stared at the youngest princess. Jarol looked at her and saw she sat rigid in her chair, staring into the distance, her posture contrasting the edge-of-her-chair stance she had before. Interesting, he thought.
Theralin slapped him in the head. “Head down, eyes on the floor.”
“And don’t speak unless spoken to,” Jarol whispered. “You’ll get us all killed.”
“That’s good to know,” Morgan answered. He looked up at Jarol and smiled. Jarol knew things might get ugly in the next few moments.
“My father and brothers were killed in your wood by goblins,” Morgan said, struggling to get on his feet. He stared at the king and queen. “Your rangers did nothing. Your soldiers were nowhere to be found. I know there were rangers in that area, so don’t try to tell me otherwise.”
Theralin pulled her leather gloves from her belt and tried to shove one in Morgan’s mouth. She fell to her knees struggling with him. Jarol shook his head, thinking he was going to have to shut him up the hard way before things got any worse. “They’ve been using your wood for weeks and you’ve done not—” Morgan yelled, twisting and spitting.
“Enough,” King Illiand ordered. Theralin paused but stayed poised to cover Morgan’s mouth, if nothing else. The king looked toward to wall where Jarol knew the captain of the guard stood. “Does the boy speak the truth? Have there been goblins running amuck within my kingdom?”
“There was word, My King, that goblins had been within our borders, but they did not linger. The reports say they used our wood only as means to evade pursuers. I have no reports of them straying so deep as the capitol road,” the captain said.
“You and your party will stay as guests tonight,” King Illiand said. “Rooms will be provided, and you will dine with us. We will investigate and get to the truth of the matter and continue tomorrow. The strength of the truth will determine whether we continue, or you leave my kingdom.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Jarol replied.
“What is your name?” King Illiand asked, looking straight at Morgan.
“Morgan.”
“You are the son of the lumber merchant Warren. Your father was an honorable man and steadfast in his duty to the treaty between us. It is for that reason you will walk out of here. If I ever lay eyes on you again, be sure to be seen and not heard.”
Jarol watched Morgan, hoping he would nod his head and not speak. When his mouth opened, Jarol didn’t hesitate. His knee took Morgan in the side of the head, knocking both him and Theralin over. He grabbed his shirt collar and hit him twice. He shoved a glove in his mouth and tied it in place with a leather thong.
“He understands perfectly, Your Highness,” Jarol told the king.
“You have way with people, General,” Queen Esmirelda said. “Your queen would be proud.” The queen’s tone didn’t hide her disapproval, though she could not know his queen would be proud.
“Sometimes, Your Highness, you have to save people from themselves.” It took a few seconds, then the queen nodded her understanding.
“Nafillion, see that our guests are escorted to their rooms,” King Illiand ordered.
“If you will follow me.” Jarol took Systhania from Trobar and asked him to pick up Morgan. The big orc lifted him and laid him over his shoulder.
Trobar was happy to trade, at least that was what Jarol took from his toothy smile. They both knew when Systhania woke up she would be a handful. Morgan was already awake and dripping blood down Trobar’s back. The boy could take a punch or two, it seemed. The chamberlain led them to a wing on the second floor. Along the way, they had picked up two servants who opened doors to the rooms the chamberlain indicated.
“This room is for you, General Jarol,” Chamberlain Nafillion said. “You can sort the rest of you group however you please between the five rooms that remain.”
“Clan leaders, take a room for yourselves. The rest of you, work it out. Trobar, put Morgan in my room, and Systhania is with you, Theralin; pick one so I can put her down.”
“If you have a problem with my servants, notify me and I will beat them myself,” Nafillion said, looking straight at Jarol. Disapproval flavored his tone. “I will have a healer come and check on your captives. That one is bleeding all over my floor.”
Jarol felt pleased with himself. They had gone from getting thrown out to staying a night as guests and dining in the palace. Now he had to turn his lie into the truth. He and Verlainia had not talked about gold and silver, but he thought he could offer ten percent of the spoils to the elven kingdom for doing nothing, really, and would offer to compensate for any damages to elven land incurred during their assault on the south. He knew where he could source the funds to cover it, as a Lord Ellitholm was entitled to a substantial share of the spoils for providing soldiers from his house. If he was dead, Verlainia could absorb his house and his people and they would use part of his percentage to pay the tithe. He would think on it more, but it felt like the beginning of a good plan. As it was, he hated the bastard and was going to kill him anyway.
*****
The king, queen and princesses stayed and listened to the opinions of some of the lords and ladies who attended the audience with the Northlanders. Opinions ranged from dragging them from their rooms and killing them because nothing they said could be trusted to the calmer, “Let’s wait and see. Any hasty action could lead to the north marching on the Black Mountains instead of the Southlands.”
Alexis noted Milandro was part of the faction pushing for action to be taken. The story of goblins and dragons cavorting around the kingdom was too farfetched for him. They had still not spoken to each other, which suited her, but at the same time irritated her. While her parents sat and listened, it was c
lear Milandro and some others were gaining some momentum with their idiotic ideas. What did they know? They weren’t even there. Alexis had planned on telling her father and mother that the Northlanders were telling the truth in private, but this seemed a better opportunity. She stood and walked behind her sisters and mother to stand on the end next to her father. He looked up at her in askance.
“What do any of you know of what happened? What do you know of the truth? Were any of you there in the wood today?” Alexis yelled, making sure she had their attention.
“They are Northlanders. They lie. It is simple, Princess,” a young lord standing next to Milandro said.
“Darling, you can’t tell us that you believe them,” Milandro said as if talking to a small child.
“Captain, did you not tell everyone present there are confirmed reports of goblins using our lands, if only to evade pursuit?” Alexis had known the captain of the guard her whole life.
“That is correct, Princess,” the captain of the guard answered, walking from his place toward the throne.
“Were there reports of dragons?” Milandro asked.
“No, but it is the around the time they should be awakening,” the captain answered.
“Let me just end this nonsense.” Alexis’s voice seethed with anger. “I was there. The goblins were trying to kill me and might have succeeded if not for a dragon that descended on them, belching fire, killing them all.” Alexis turned to her father. “I was going to tell you in private, so you could think about it without all the fools gathered around you.” Looking back to the audience, she caught the captain’s brief smile.
“Is it possible you were overtired—” Milandro started and never finished.
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