Keys of Candor: The Red Deaths

by Casey Eanes

  The long, black hood was finally lifted, revealing a stunning girl with flowing raven hair and dark skin that glowed in the firelight. Underneath her cloak, Bronson could see the purple robe she wore; the colors that came from the Realm of Preost. What in Aleph’s name is a Preost woman doing here?

  Bronson did not know much about the forest people, but he knew he had never seen a woman from Preost. Her beauty, even in the dim light, was stunning. Bronson was convinced that Seam was meeting with the most beautiful woman to ever come out of any of the Realms. Her hair fell across her shoulders in intricate curls, a waterfall of midnight. Her skin was dark like mahogany and smooth like porcelain. It was her eyes, however, that captivated the old guard, causing him to feel young and full of vigor and passion. She was exquisite, and Bronson had to tear himself away from staring at her. He lowered his rifle and slowly stepped back from the window.

  He chuckled to himself and let out a low whistle as he quietly climbed back into the truck to wait on his king’s return.

  ***

  Vashti was quick to notice the old guard staring at her through the tall stained glass window. Even when she saw him raise his weapon, she had wisely chosen to play as if she were unaware, only pulling back her cowl to showcase her good intentions toward the young King Seam. Her strategy had worked, and the incident that could have erupted was avoided without any harm. She looked down at the key that Seam had given her, felt its weight, and twirled it in her hand. She could not believe her good fortune. Her mistress would be so pleased with her.

  She stared into Seam’s brown eyes, calculating her approach toward him. With a subtle smile, she leaned in a deliberate attempt to showcase her luxurious curved features. She could tell the naïve man before her was falling for it and everything would soon go according to her plan.

  “You are the High King of Vale now. We can finally progress further,” she said with a smile.

  CHAPTER NINE

  As the sun rose on the beaches of Elum, gulls cried in high shrills, their chorus echoing over the thunder of the waves crashing in cadence on the province’s rocky shores. The sun slid across the surface of the ocean, awakening the dark, blue body of water into a golden slate of glass. The shores of Elum were renowned by those wealthy enough to afford the journey to visit them.

  The Darian family estate was a testament to the wealth and prestige of the Elum province. The complex sat high atop the cliffs over the southernmost beaches in the Realm, its marble columns standing proudly over the shoreline. One could see the structure from miles around. Flying buttresses of clear glass shot up into a sharp pinnacle, the structure taking on the same golden hue of the early morning light; a large glowing torch burning upon the water’s edge.

  The Darian family’s rule was marked with deceit, treachery, and skillful machinations of politics. All of it preserved Elum in its pristine condition. The Realm had been able to avoid conflict for hundreds of years, remaining largely disinterested in the affairs of outsiders and offering resources to all of them, treasures harvested from their lush ocean whenever needed. The abundance of oil stashed in their hidden reserves was all the leverage this Realm had ever needed to maintain its own peace. However, the peace was beginning to splinter a week after Grift Shepherd escaped from the Groganlands.

  Filip Darian was pouring himself his second glass of brandy that morning when he heard a bellowing roar of thunder that shook his palace’s foundation. His heart filled with fear when he looked out from his glass pinnacle to see the black cloud of three hundred rumbling Grogan rooks charging toward his doorstep. The massive army came to a rest outside the palace, as if this were a common practice. Filip stormed out of the main gates, barefoot and wearing only a silk robe. He pushed through the security guards trying to usher him toward safety. His face was flushed with pride, and a vein protruded from his forehead as he stamped toward the lead vehicle in the invading convoy. He threw his fist down on the hood of the first rook and bellowed a deluge of hot curses, waving his arms for the vehicles to shut off their engines. The convoy did not oblige the request, as the drivers continued to idle. Filip threw down his glass, which shattered upon the fine marble bricks, and held up his index finger in the air. He twirled it above his head like a mad magician as he screamed, his voice drowned out in the chaos. Drowned out or not, the command ushered out a platoon of snipers that flooded onto the roof of the palace. They lowered their weapons on the phalanx beneath them, hot pinpricks of red dots hovering over the invading army of faceless warriors.

  “SHUT your vehicles down. NOW.” Filip stared through the tinted glass of the head rook. The cockpit opened and Willyn Kara removed her helmet. She stepped out of the vehicle and whispered in her radio. Immediately the engines ceased, as the red dotted pinpoints of the snipers danced on her face.

  Filip growled at her, “What in Aleph’s name is this? What could be so important that you would bring a military detail to the front gates of my estate, Grogan?! I want to speak to your captain!”

  “General. General Kara. Now, call you snipers off.”

  Filip’s face transformed from shock to hot-faced rage, only to settle into a stern glare of disgust. He sent his hand through his thinning hair, cursed loudly, and spat on the ground.

  Willyn did not back down. “Now, Filip.”

  Filip snapped his fingers, and immediately the black armored sniper brigade lowered their weapons, but did not leave their post.

  Filip smirked at the young general and spoke flatly to her, his patience strained. “Mistress Willyn Kara of the Groganlands. What do I owe the pleasure of...”

  “Cut the pleasantries, Fillip. I am not here to visit. My sources have informed me that your family is harboring a terrorist. I want him now.”

  Fillip’s anger resurged and boiled over. He straightened a short, chubby finger and pointed it right into Willyn’s face.

  “STOP! RIGHT there!” Spittle reeking of alcohol flew from his mouth as he roared at her. “How dare you come to my front steps and accuse me of harboring a terrorist. Neither my family, nor the nation of Elum has any interest in giving asylum to a known threat to any of the Realms. Now I would advise you to explain yourself. The Sar must be utterly mad to send you to me like this without notice.”

  Willyn’s vision went black with rage. “IT IS BECAUSE OF THE SAR THAT I AM HERE!” Immediately, she stepped back and turned away from him, caught off guard by her own response. Get it together, she thought to herself.

  Recovering, she fired back at him. “I’m shocked to see you have grown a backbone, Filip. It suits you.” She smiled to see Filip bite his lip. She stared down at the short, portly magnate and spoke, “So you claim that you are not harboring the terrorist. Fine. I believe you, but rest assured the man I’m seeking is here in Elum, and I will find him. My men lost him a week ago, and I don’t have time to waste negotiating with you right now.”

  “Your lack of courtesy is remarkable, even for a Grogan, Madam Kara. Let me remind you that you are in my land, and it is by my graces that you remain in my land unharmed. Hagan must be feeling very insecure to send in his forces like this. What terrorist, pray-tell, would garner such a force from the mighty Groganlands?” He stared at her, his eyes like daggers. “Tell me. Now.”

  Willyn spoke, burying the unsteadiness she felt at the mention of Hagan. “Let me be clear, I am looking for Grift Shepherd of Lotte. He is the man responsible for Sar Hagan’s current debilitation.”

  Filip’s eyes widened, but his lips remained pursed as he pointed his finger back into Willyn’s face.

  “I saw on my datalink about your brother, and for that I am sorry. I did not realize how poor his condition was. However, your petty war with Lotte does not concern me or my people. I will overlook your Realm’s haste and incompetence for the fact that the Sar is unable to manage his generals.” Filip spat on the ground in defiance and continued. “You have three days. Three days to find Shepherd. Now let me be clear, on the fourth day you and all these troops will leav
e Elum regardless of your mission’s success. If even one of your troops remains in my state on the fifth day, I will, rest assured, cut off all trade with your barbarous nation. Your precious little machines will be no good to you without my oil. Also, I will send for a formal consul from a Brother Counselor.”

  Willyn laughed, “Filip, do you really think that my people are afraid of the monks? The old ways are passing away. Their influence is waning, and the faith that sustains them is losing its power.” She gripped the hilt of the pistol by her side. “Better to be equipped with guns and grit than to depend on the prayers of those old hermits. It’s nice to see that some still hold to the faith, though.” She glared at him, unflinching. “I agree with your terms. We will honor your request. “

  “Good.” Filip smirked and straightened his robe as he started to turn back to the palace. His bare feet flapped on the marble stairs, amusing Willyn greatly as he waddled back to his crystal estate.

  “Despite your insults and foolishness, I’m glad the Grogan people still have some mental capacity. Rest assured I want you and your men out of here as soon as possible.” Willyn continued to smile as the short ruler shot his platitudes at her. “Therefore, to aid you in your task, I am going to be sending my best scout to escort you personally through the Realm. He will not only be helping you find Shepherd, should he be here, but he will also be my eyes and ears. If you cause my people any harm, or if you cause any harm to befall on him, I will personally see this as an act of unprovoked war.”

  “Oh, we wouldn’t want that now would we, Filip?” Willyn whispered mockingly. “I would not want to be the cause of an international conflict.”

  Filip looked back to Willyn. His jousting words fell flat and serious. “You are still just a child. You do not know the way the world truly works yet, but trust me, when you are alone, you will find that your arrogance will have done nothing but hurt you.”

  Willyn blinked, taken aback from the comment. What is this old fool saying to me?

  “Now come on and I will introduce you to your escort.”

  Willyn motioned her personal security detail forward as Filip spun back around on his heels.

  “Leave your brutes behind, Willyn. I personally will guarantee your safety in my Realm, but I really don’t care to have my rugs soiled with your men’s boots. Now come on and get in here. It’s cold out and I am ready for another drink.”

  Willyn could not help but laugh. “A bit early isn’t it, Filip?”

  “It’s never too early for the finer things in life,” Filip said as he and Willyn stepped into the grand main parlor.

  He turned and addressed her, “Wait here, I will be back in just a moment. “

  Filip scurried away, leaving Willyn alone. She sat down at a sprawling pine table in the middle of the room and slowly examined the intricate interior surrounding her. The embellished moldings, crystal chandeliers, and hand-crafted furniture stood in stark contrast to the cold cement walls that made up her home in the Groganlands. Both were a show of power, the Grogan halls as a nearly impenetrable fortress, which could withstand assaults of nearly any kind. The nation of Elum, however, had no shame in putting its riches on display, flaunting its wealth and prestige.

  After a half hour of sitting alone in the grand foyer, listening to the nearby clock tick by the minutes, the door that Filip disappeared behind creaked open. Willyn was not greeted again by the diminutive ruler, however, but instead a lean, dark-haired man, who, without a word, stepped into the room and sat down across the table from her. He was handsome but plainly dressed, and Willyn noticed instantly that he did not carry himself in the same fashion as the Elum royalty. The man sat and stared at her with his cold, gray eyes, completely silent. He slowly and deliberately kicked up his legs up on the table, never breaking his eyes from her.

  The two sat in silence for a few moments. The stranger continued to stare. He did not blink, not once, and Willyn locked her eyes with him, accepting his unspoken challenge. They sat there for what seemed like an eternity. She could not maintain the strange ordeal a moment longer.

  Willyn bulldozed through without a pause, “Introduce yourself, stranger.” She reached down for her sidearm, threatening to release her pistol from its holster. “I don’t have time to waste so you need to speak up or get out.”

  The man slapped the table with such force that it nearly buckled, and he began to laugh. The laughter, if you could call it that, came in strange controlled bursts, rolling out slow and deliberate. Willyn sat dumbfounded as the stranger spoke.

  “Ha! Ha...ha. Oh, I do love a good laugh. You Grogans and your guns.”

  The stranger quickly straightened himself and stood to his feet. This oddness, along with the laughter, disappeared in an instant as he calmly addressed her.

  “Willyn Kara, what a pleasure to meet you. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Luken, and I will serve as your escort as you visit Elum. I am thoroughly at your service.” He bowed quickly and sprung up. “Now, I understand you have lost something.” A wry, knowing smile grew on his face. There was something captivating about the man with the gray eyes, as if he released a tangible energy that permeated the air.

  Willyn sifted through her feelings, relieved that the conversation was turning to what really mattered. “Not something, but someone. I am in search of a terrorist that I have reason to believe is hiding in Elum. His name is Grift Shepherd, though I doubt that name means anything to you.”

  Luken’s face dropped and his eyes became distant upon the mention of Grift’s name. He murmured something to himself, turning to stare out of the clear glass wall that overlooked the royal promenade. Willyn approached him, reading the recognition on his face.

  “Ah, so Filip actually did send me someone useful. I see you know exactly who I am looking for.” Luken did not acknowledge her, but continued to keep his back toward her. Softly, Willyn laid her hand on Luken’s broad shoulder and whispered. “Tell me, Luken, have you seen Grift Shepherd recently?” Her hand squeezed into his shoulder as the question lingered in the air.

  He stood motionless for several moments before blinking and reconnecting his sharp eyes with hers. Willyn could tell that he was weighing his words carefully. He knows something. He knows something about Grift.

  Luken spoke. “I know exactly who you are looking for. Have I seen him recently?” He shook his head. “No. I haven’t seen him in many years. However, I do know him, know of him. He is a Guardian, correct?”

  “Yes, he was the head guard, or guardian as you say, for King Camden’s security detail, but according to evidence I have received, he is also the man that attempted to assassinate my brother, Hagan.”

  Luken shook his head and looked back out into promenade. “No, that does not seem right. I believe you are mistaken about him. There is no way that Grift Shepherd would have attacked your brother. It actually makes no sense. You are clearly looking for the wrong person.”

  Willyn snapped back, “And clearly, you are a fool. I know who poisoned Hagan, and I have evidence to prove that Grift Shepherd was the man who attempted the assassination. Now quit with your petulant games and let’s start searching.”

  Luken made no rebuttal. “As you wish, Mistress Kara.”

  “Good.” Willyn turned for the door to the outer courtyards where her men were still waiting.

  Luken redirected her, “My lady. You are going the wrong way.” A small, wiry smile grew on his face.

  Willyn looked back over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. Her sneer produced no visible sign of fear in him, and it made her loathe him all the more. Luken chuckled and exited from the door where he first emerged. Willyn reluctantly followed.

  “You see, my dear Mistress Kara, Shepherd would not be on the mainland had he sought exile in Elum. People around these parts like to talk too much about good-looking strangers. They also are incredibly vain and materialistic. They would sell out their own mothers if it would buy them credits. No, he’s definitely not on the mainland.”r />
  “Then where is he?” Willyn asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious? If you are certain he punched a ticket to Elum, he’s on one of the hundreds of islands just off the coast.”

  Willyn cursed her luck underneath her breath. Islands meant boats, and Willyn hated boats.

  “Now, please, dear one, if you would kindly follow me down to the dock where my ship is waiting.”

  Willyn scowled. “I am not your dear one. What about my soldiers?”

  “Don’t worry about them. They will only slow us down. Filip will arrange for them to have a good time while we are out.”

  “And of my safety? How can I trust you?”

  “Did not Filip already guarantee your safety? Rest easy in the knowledge that my country has no desire to have a conflict with the Groganlands. That should be enough for you to know that I mean no harm to you and I will protect you from harm as well.”

  Willyn was surprised to find herself satisfied with this answer, and followed Luken out to the docks. Despite the answer, she still ran her hand down over her pistol as she reminded herself that she could never trust anyone too easily, especially some odd Elumite.