“Come in, Ronald. We’re as decent as we’ll ever be, or at least Floanne is,” the Princess quipped.
He entered and bowed in mock admiration. “If it’s complements you’re fishing for, m’lady, sorry I’ve used them all up. It is nice to see there is still a woman behind the armor, but where is your sword?”
She wrinkled her nose at him and held up a hand with tendrils of blue lightning dancing between her fingertips. Standing, Sofia patted him on the cheek. “I don’t think I need it anymore.”
Floanne giggled at the look on Ronald’s face and took the brush to her own hair, but left it hanging loose. He joined the Princess where she stood staring out of the window.
“What’s wrong?”
“You may yet regret your decision to follow me, Ronald. There is an evil here such as I’ve never felt before. I believe now the betrothal was a ruse from the very beginning. Someone here was only interested in obtaining the chest with the amulet inside, and they will be furious when it doesn’t appear. The question is whether the King and Prince Mathias were aware, or if they are being manipulated also.”
He turned to her, the sincerity in his tone unmistakable. “I will never regret that decision, or with what may happen. As for the rest, hopefully we will learn the truth if Poppie actually brings the Prince. Until then, what should we do?”
Sofia turned back to the window. “We wait.”
They did not have long to wait before their door opened and closed on its own. Floanne’s hand jumped to her mouth, stifling a scream while Ronald reached for his sword. Sofia grabbed his arm and shook her head.
The air shimmered, revealing a boyish looking woman, her eyes downcast, and hands outstretched, palms up. She raised her eyes to the Princess, and the notion of youth was crushed by the weight of years buried there.
“I am Emma Greenleaf, Lightshifter and Master Assassin, from the tribe of the Shadow Mountain Elintria, an Elder Race of Marlinor. I welcome the Deluti in the name of High Lord Demitrios, last surviving true Deluti.”
Time stalled and held its breath as the new Deluti and the Elder locked eyes, each aware of the other’s legacy. Sofia nodded and responded in kind as time gasped, marching forward once again.
“I am Sofia Salidoris, former Princess of the Kingdom of Dahlian, now Deluti and Mistress of the Storm. I accept your welcome.”
Emma broke out in a huge smile. “Wait till I tell the old wind bag he doesn’t know everything! Well, never mind. May I bring my partner so we can try and explain what you’ve walked in to? He’s big, ugly and hairy, but gentle, unless you make him angry of course.”
Sofia smiled at the little woman’s enthusiasm and nodded. Emma returned a moment later leading a reluctant ogre, who ducked coming through the door.
Sebastian faced the Princess and bowed. “I am Sebastian, a mountain ogre. My heart sings with the return of the Deluti to our world.”
Before she could respond, there was a knock at the door. Emma disappeared and Sebastian stood against the wall behind the door. Ronald, hand resting on his sword, approached and quietly asked, “Who’s there?”
The voice outside could barely be heard. “It’s Poppie, with a friend.”
Opening the door, the Lieutenant stepped back as the little man entered followed by someone whose face was hidden deep inside a hood. The man quickly reached up to uncover his head, and studied the strangers before looking down at Poppie and mouthing the question, “Princess?” The little man glanced at Sofia standing by the window and nodded.
Mathias approached the woman he had already determined was the Princess. Regardless of the simple outfit she wore, there was an aura of power and confidence surrounding her that wouldn’t have diminished even dressed in sack cloth. It was the quiet beauty and simple grace of the young woman seated that tugged at his heart. Their eyes met, and he almost stumbled before she hastily lowered hers with a shy smile.
When he turned back to the Princess, the twinkle in her eyes vanquished the little composure he had left. Shoulders falling, he appealed to her. “Forgive me, Princess. This has been the worst day of my life, and may be the last time we will get to meet. Can we just sit and I’ll try to explain, from my side, the impossible situation here.”
“Please do, Mathias, and call me Sofia. Princess is a title I no longer answer to. My companions are Ronald, a former Lieutenant in the Queen’s guard, and Floanne, who is actually descended from one of your past Kings.”
Her last remark almost turned the Prince’s eyes in Floanne’s direction, but he wisely kept them on Sofia. He was having enough trouble ordering his thoughts. They settled on chairs, the bed, and in Sebastian’s case, the floor. The ogre asked a question that had been on his mind since the Prince walked through the door.
“What has happened, Mathias? The scent of human blood covers you.”
Mathias, the haunting in his eyes plain for everyone to see, faced his new found friend. “I had to kill a man this morning, Sebastian. In cold blood.”
Ronald spoke up for the first time. “Killing a man is never easy, even if it’s necessary.”
“I’m sure Mathias wouldn’t have done so if it wasn’t necessary, Lieutenant,” the ogre replied in defense of the Prince.
Grumbling, Emma jumped to her feet and stood in the center of the floor, glaring at the men. “You men! Killing is easy. Living is hard, and will get harder if we don’t find a way out of this.”
She turned away from them and addressed Sofia. “I will make this as short as possible. The evil you sense comes from a portal in the Duke’s mansion tied directly to the Scarred Mage. The Duke wants to be King, and the Dark Lord wants you. Duke d’Lorange replaced every Palace Guard with men loyal only to him. I believe your betrothal to Mathias was just an excuse to bring all the ruling families to the Palace and eliminate them.”
“Surely the families will have their own personal guard. Besides, how would he accomplish such a thing?” Sofia asked.
“I’m afraid I can answer that,” Mathias replied. “The main audience chamber is the only space large enough to accommodate all the guests. It can easily be secured from the outside, preventing escape. As a young boy, I discovered galleries on either side that look down upon the chamber. They’ve never been used in my lifetime. A handful of archers up there could pick off their targets at leisure.”
While they were talking, Roll made himself useful by bringing up a couple bottles of wine, and passed them around along with goblets. He paused in front of Ronald who watched him with narrowed eyes. “Sorry, Lieutenant. I may not be able to shift the light like my cousin Emma, but I change my appearance for protection.” He then handed a goblet of wine to the Prince and asked. “Why don’t you tell them about the tunnel you found with the skeleton in it?”
Mathias gulped down his wine and hurried to explain. “We found an ancient escape tunnel in the lower level of the Palace leading to a blind alley in the city. The skeleton must have been there for centuries since a Deluti sword remained there also. Rafael, my oldest friend and a lover of history, found a drawing of it in one of the old history books. It had been given to the King during the Deluti War, but it and the King’s son disappeared about the same time. We believe the skeleton must be the remains of the Prince.”
Floanne leaned forward eagerly, her eyes bright and hopeful as she glanced back and forth between Mathias and her former mistress. She summoned the courage to ask the question foremost in her mind. “Highness, did this history of yours mention a daughter and name the King?”
Puzzled by the expression on her face, and the question, he answered. “Yes it did. Actually, the Princess disappeared at the same time as her brother. The King’s name was Harold d’Tomorin. Why do you ask?”
The slight change in Sofia’s voice fixed all eyes on her as she began to speak. “Prince Mathias. The spirit who inhabits the amulet I wear is the Deluti Councilor who gifted her sword to the King for safekeeping. After giving up her life to fuse her spirit into the amulet, it was
given to the Princess. While she escaped the city by ship, headed for Dahlian, the Prince acted as a decoy drawing the Dark Lord’s agents away into the Palace. Floanne is a direct descendent of the Princess and bears the name, d’Tomorin.”
Mathias almost lost himself to the possibilities if they could prove those claims, and gazed at Floanne in a whole new light.
“That’s all very nice and historical,” Emma cut in. “But it does nothing to help us. Mathias will be required to attend the banquet which leaves four of us to try and sneak into the Palace to do what? Eliminate forty or fifty guards without alerting the Duke? I may be good, but I’m not that good.”
In the silence that followed, Sebastian cleared his throat and addressed Sofia. “Would your power be of help to us?”
She shook her head. “Not in such a confined area, and certainly not quietly.”
The ogre nodded and fixed his eyes on Emma. “It is up to you, little one. You know what you must do.”
“Oh no. Oh no! Don’t make me do that, Sebastian. You know how he gets.”
“But I thought you were his favorite?”
Emma stared at him a moment before a smile lit up her face. “He did say that, didn’t he? Fine, but if anything goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”
With a heavy sigh, she turned to the others. “Brace yourselves, and let’s hope he’s in a good mood. You are about to meet High Lord Demitrios, the Ancient One.”
She pulled out her talisman and touched it with a finger, releasing a trickle of power to energize it. At once, a column of mist formed in their center and solidified into the vision of a tall, powerful man. Flowing white hair and beard framed a face surprisingly smooth for the number of years laid upon it. Eyes like polished steel pierced the diminutive Elintria who stood defiantly before him, and his mouth opened to speak.
Instead, he slowly turned and faced the Princess from Dahlian, surprise his only emotion. He cast down his eyes and bowed.
Eyes aflame, Sofia arose, and the spirit of the amulet spoke through her for all to hear. “Don’t you dare bow to me, Demitrios, Son of Tar. Because of your failure these children are now faced with the evil and hatred of your twin. They have the power and the passion to prevail, but lack knowledge and experience. Guide and instruct them. If they fail, your spirit will be forever banned from the Gates of Wistaglon.”
Sofia shook off the effects of the Deluti spirit, her eyes softened with compassion and then resolve. “I can almost feel sorry for you, Lord Demitrios, as one day I will have to face my sister, but the spirit is correct. We need your help and or suggestions.”
Unexpectedly chastised, the High Lord’s stature and youth diminished as the weight of centuries pressed down upon him. The face of a tired, old man regarded her.
“Very well. With your permission, it will be faster and less confusing if you allow me to view your thoughts. I will only read the surface, so bring to mind anything you think I should know.”
Receiving a nod of acceptance from everyone, he proceeded to stand before each one, and ended in front of Emma, scowling. “Old wind bag, is it?” He reached down, gently raised her head and smiled. “I don’t know how Sebastian puts up with you, but yes, you are still my favorite.”
She smiled back and immediately turned to stick her tongue out at Sebastian who laughed, his fangs glistening.
The High Lord turned and met the eyes of each human before continuing. “Remarkable. Not only has the blood of the Deluti returned, but the old blood of humans as well. Every one of you carries the blood of some of the most courageous men and women I have ever known. It gives me hope.”
He gazed out of the window in the direction of the Duke’s mansion, gauging the power and influence of the evil there.
“Sofia, your abilities are too chaotic to be of use within the confines of the Palace, but you can use your power to shield the others from my brother’s influence. What you need are men, and I can think of none better than those who fight for the d’Roddell name.”
Demitrios began pacing as the possibilities came together in his mind, and finally turned to Emma. “Run like the Eye of Death is at your heels, little one. There is an ancient path that leads straight to the keep from an old inn halfway between here and Twin Oaks. I know you will find it easily.”
“And what makes you think that stubborn son of the Baron will listen to me?” Emma grumbled, heading for the door.
The old man began to fade, and then returned. “Young Navon should face his trial soon, and if he survives, I have asked the spirits to deliver him to his home. He will convince his brother, and should provide the distraction you need to secret the men into the tunnel.”
He faced the Prince and inclined his head. “Forgive me, Prince Mathias. I took the liberty of pulling from your memory the location of the tunnel and the entrance to the galleries. I have placed them inside the minds of the others so no one gets lost.”
“If this Navon does not survive his trial, what then?” Sofia asked quietly.
Demitrios hesitated, unwilling to acknowledge the possibility. After a moment, he faced her with tired eyes full of sorrow. “If he fails, the High Lord of the Deluti will return to the world of men and create the diversion you need.”
Chapter Twenty Two ~ The Anger Within
The dining room was uncommonly quiet with just the two of them sitting across from each other. Jamar had managed to convince the grumbling cook to put together a meal for them from leftovers. Even though Navon felt hungry, he ate without tasting what went in his mouth. His thoughts continued to focus on the admission the elder had forced from him earlier. Already, the way he saw himself was changing. People would either accept him for what he was, or not. It no longer mattered.
His heightened awareness now hung at the edge of his sight, ready to be accessed with just a thought. Not only could he penetrate the world around him with his eyes, his other senses had also blossomed. Navon could separate the smells coming from the kitchen and identify each vegetable or meat being prepared along with the individual spices applied. Every sound was quickly identified as to their source. He raised his head and caught Jamar’s eye as the whisper of his name floated to the edge of his mind.
The elder nodded. “Our histories say the High Lord Demitrios commanded the army through his thoughts.” Having caught Navon’s full attention, he cautioned. “Beware, Navon. Some thoughts are better left unheard.”
Still reeling from this latest revelation, Navon turned at the sound of someone approaching. An elderly woman bent down to whisper in Jamar’s ear, never looking in Navon’s direction. She rose up and froze, accidentally catching the Deluti’s eye, then bowed and left quickly.
The elder stood and picked up his plate. “The new slave waits in the common room of their quarters. His name is Chaska.”
The moment Navon stepped into the common room, he knew a sorcerer sat there. A hint of evil hovered there also, but was confined to the silvery thread attached to the man. It could only lead back to the Scarred Mage. Interesting. Why would the Dark Lord send someone without a trace of iniquity, and guessing from his age, only an apprentice? Navon would have to be careful. Something here didn’t add up.
Chaska stood as they approached, his fair complexion, short blond hair, and medium build typical of a Dahlian male. He had some filling out to do, but then so did Navon as they were of an age. The apprentice’s eyes widened when they met the Deluti’s, and then quickly lowered.
Jamar introduced them. “Chaska, this Navon. You help care animals. He show you.” Turning to Navon, he switched to Shadhuin. “Show him quickly. Elder Atora is anxious for you to look at several of the Brothers.”
Navon nodded, but kept his eyes fixed on the sorcerer who glanced back and forth between them until Jamar turned to leave. The Deluti motioned for him to follow. “Come on, Chaska. The work isn’t hard, just tedious.”
“You understand him, yet you are not Shadhuin.”
“No I am not,” Navon replied, and left the implied
question unanswered.
Once they reached the center of the city, the apprentice slowed to a stop and stared at the lake. “Is this real?”
“Very real. A gift from the Deluti long ago to persuade the Shadhuin to give up their nomadic life and settle in one place.” Navon looked around and smiled. “Apparently it worked.”
They waited while a group of slaves filled their buckets and headed out to the fields. Navon and Chaska grabbed two buckets each, dipped them in the water and started walking towards the north end of the city.
“Always return the empty buckets to the lake for others to use. When you have all the troughs filled, find me and I will show you which feed boxes to keep full for the Brothers, and which ones to put in only a measured amount.”
“Brothers?”
“They are one of the Elder Races, and share this land with the Shadhuin. The two formed a partnership of mutual protection long ago. The Brothers are built like horses, but are as intelligent as humans, live long and communicate with their minds.”
“They can hear my thoughts?” the apprentice murmured.
“You will find out when you meet one. They can converse with Deluti, Shadhuin, and,” Navon turned to face him, “sorcerers.”
Chaska stumbled, suddenly afraid as that word coursed through his body. Had Scorpios sent him here to die? This Deluti was no older than him, yet even his words held power. He hurried to keep up, his eyes lowered pretending to watch his step.
***
Moonlight, nose to the ground, eagerly followed the scent of an animal hopefully larger than a rabbit. Moshere had shown her a source of water nearby, but food was becoming a problem. He warned her to stay clear of the area surrounding the Shadhuin city. Unfortunately, she was in a growth spurt and the small rodents available here were not enough to satisfy her hunger.
Her concern for Navon mounted. She hadn’t seen him or felt his presence in days, except for a momentary surge of anger and frustration broadcasted yesterday. Was he in danger? His absence was an ache in her soul she didn’t understand.
The Pain of Compassion Page 22
