“Why are you chasing after me?” Raelynne demanded. “Your friend back there already made it abundantly clear that you had no interest in helping me.”
“I have my reasons,” Ydari replied evasively.
“And what reasons are they?” Raelynne asked, her hands on her hips as she gives Ydari a sidelong glare.
“I want to help because it sounded to me that your problem was of genuine concern to more than just yourself,” Ydari started. “The Magi usually keep to themselves so for one of your order to come asking for help from the likes of us means you have a problem that affects everyone.”
“Will you stop following me?” Raelynne yelled, not even turning her head to acknowledge Ydari.
“No, I can’t. This is what I do. I see a damsel in distress and I have to help,” Ydari replied dryly. Raelynne scrutinised him, an expression of incredulity on her elegant features at his remark. “Though in this case, the damsel may be more dangerous than the person who wants to do the saving.”
“Finally, you’ve got something right for once today,” Raelynne huffed as she sidestepped a beggar. Almost absentmindedly she reached into the recesses of her pockets and flicked a coin at the beggar’s feet. “But that still doesn’t answer my question. Why are you following me?”
“Well, unlike the band of misfits and ne’er do wells that I usually contend with, if you have a problem then that means it’s a problem for everyone. I’ve seen more than my fair share of misery and suffering but none of that compares to magical disasters,” Ydari answered. He looked deadly serious now and this caused Raelynne to pause in her tracks. “I’ve seen what happens when magic is abused. I was there at Avalor in the middle of an explosion that made the Gods quake in terror. That’s what I want to avoid.”
“Avalor? Don’t you dare speak that name ever again in my presence,” Raelynne exclaimed.
“Did I touch upon a sore subject?” Ydari asked.
“You have no idea,” Raelynne answered simply.
Raelynne and Ydari said nothing more for a few moments. An uncomfortable silence followed and the Guardsman began fidgeting as he took in his surroundings. Ahead of them, the street merged into the main avenue that stretched from the western city gates all the way to the palatial complex on the far side of Maleardhus. Ydari cast his eyes upwards and he beheld the gleaming white tower for which the city was famous and marked in everyone’s collective consciousness the residence of the Queen. His eyes flickered almost imperceptibly back to the towering monolith but it was enough for the fiery-haired mage to notice. She angled her head curiously as she beheld Ydari fully for the first time; taking note of his slightly dishevelled appearance.
“So, you were at Avalor too?” Ydari asked suddenly. The abruptness of his question drew another look of ire from his hot-headed counterpart. She opened her mouth to protest but she was disarmed with a look from the Guard Captain that spoke volumes. “Come on: it was fairly obvious you were there. Anybody who reacts that strongly isn’t doing a very good job of hiding the truth. It’s one of the perks of my job,” said Ydari.
“Fine,” Raelynne sighed audibly. “If you must know I was one of the first students at the College of Avalor. The idea was so simple: so pure.“ Raelynne’s voice drifted into an uncomfortable silence and she shook her head aggressively as if to banish a thought. The mage sighed again. “Mages have always been looked down on and Avalor was supposed to be a way for us to decide our own destiny, free from oversight from any Kingdom and secluded enough for us to train a whole new generation of Mages. But that’s not how it ended.”
“Far from it,” Ydari replied. “I saw the explosion with my own eyes and the crater that was left behind.” Ydari paused, Raelynne’s sharp eyes burning a hole through him, sizing him up and wondering if he could be trusted. The Guard Captain continued, ignoring her furtive looks. “We were under orders to investigate the college because the Queen had heard reports of abuse in the magical and arcane arts. I’ll never forget the screams,” Ydari half-whispered.
“So that’s why you followed me!” the Magi screamed indignantly. “I half thought you actually understood and wanted to help me but you just want to keep an eye on the freak so she doesn’t cause trouble.”
Raelynne turned on her heel and she stormed off down the street. Ydari rolled his eyes and swore loudly, his anger getting the better of him. He watched the retreating figure of Raelynne for a few seconds before swearing loudly again and giving chase. The Guardsman shouted after her but this only caused her to quicken her pace as she jostled through the crowds that were now forming. One of their number stepped in front of Ydari, his clothes giving him the look of a man who spent more time sleeping in the gutter than on soft bedding. The interloper bumped shoulder first into Ydari and offered a gruff apology. Abruptly the Guardsman clamped his hand down on the vagrant’s wrist and his iron grip tightened like a snake coiling around its prey.
“Nice try friend but while you may look like someone down on their luck your body gives you away. You’re far too well fed. Now give me back the coin purse before I decide to exact some street justice,” Ydari whispered, his voice calm and even. He drew a dagger from his belt and pushed it under the would-be thief’s chin as if to accentuate his point. Ydari thrust the blade up yet further and the panicked man rose onto his tiptoes with a muted squeal. The vagabond gulped loudly and his self-satisfied grin drained away, much like the colour from his face. “Reach very slowly into your pocket and drop the purse,” Ydari commanded.
The thief took extreme care with his movements, easing his hand into his pocket with what seemed minute movements of his hand. The coins jingled musically as the purse was dropped. All the while the dagger never moved nor wavered from its mark. Ydari put his foot on the purse and held it securely, all the while the thief was quivering and gently sobbing.
“I’m sorry Lord. I didn’t know,” the thief apologised hesitantly.
“You didn’t know you would get caught. Now get out of here before I decide to skewer you anyway,” Ydari barked. He released the man’s wrist but the dagger lightly pricked the skin and a thin trickle of blood dribbled onto his shirt. “Lucky for you, I have more pressing matters to attend to. Now go,” he whispered icily. He watched as the ruffian sprinted off with reckless abandon. He bent down and retrieved the purse and as he did so he spied the form of Raelynne who now hovered close by. “Now, as for you!” Ydari bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at Raelynne.
The red-haired vixen cast a look of haughty contempt in Ydari’s direction. He merely returned her stare with one of his own. His jaw was tightly clenched and he balled his hand up into a fist at his side, a putrid venom rising up in his gut and threatening to take over. The crowd began to disperse, though some of the more eager revellers stayed in the vain hope that this confrontation would end with someone’s remains smearing the wall. A vein began to throb on Ydari’s forehead and he clenched his jaw tighter as if to assuage some inner demon.
“What about me?” Raelynne demanded imperiously.
“You need to climb down off that high horse of yours. All I’ve done is gone out of my way to try to listen to what you have to say but you act as if the whole world is out to get you specifically,” Ydari roared.
“So, what? It’s better than being a hired thug for royalty. How many people did you butcher at Avalor?” Raelynne asked with a sneer.
“No mage has died by my hand then or at any other time,” the Guardsman bellowed.
“Just admit it. You murdered my brothers and sisters and you enjoyed every minute of it,” the red-haired mage spat. “You’re just like everyone else here. Bigoted but disguising it under a mask of friendship.”
“No. You’ve got it all wrong but I’m not going to waste any more breath on you except to say this,” Ydari started. His features now irradiated anger and to the world at large, it seemed as if the Captain would be consumed by it. His entire body trembled as he struggled to keep the inner demon contained but his eyes never w
avered, not even for a second. Ydari continued, his voice dangerously low. “I have fought for the rights of mages for years because I thought you deserved better. I saved the lives of your Brothers and Sisters at Avalor. Do you know why I did those things? Because I never thought for a second that your kind would be stupid enough to cause an explosion that killed my sister. She was a student at your precious college and your madness cost her, her life. I wish now, as I did back then, that I never got involved with you. You’re on your own.”
Without another word Ydari turned and walked away solemnly. Behind him, Raelynne opened her mouth to speak but she merely fell silent. Her shoulders dropped in defeat and she too turned to leave before stomping a foot on the cobblestones in frustration. The more curious of the remaining crowd milled about in case of an encore of their favourite show. This was street theatre and, as such, offered the most entertainment for the best price. The Guardsman rounded a corner and, finally, the troublesome mage was out of sight. He paused for a moment, swearing the choicest curses he could think of before continuing his journey. Ydari knew where he must go next and every fibre in his being enjoyed the prospect even less than arguing with Raelynne. After all, his next meeting was with the Queen and that would be an argument he would never win.
The White Tower loomed ominously over the entire city but, in Ydari’s mind’s eye, it seemed to exist just to draw him back to its pristine walls. His brow creased into a frown as he made his way slowly toward the Palace. Memories, ever-pervasive, loomed at the forefront of his mind and it inevitably led him to the same conclusion; his hatred for politics and always sniffing out conspiracies in every dark corner, even where none existed. Ydari trooped on in silence for several minutes. As he neared his destination the Guard Captain took in scant detail of his surroundings, his usually keen senses having been dulled by the uneasiness building in his gut. Abruptly Ydari felt someone feverishly tapping his shoulder. Ydari craned his neck to the side and Teobrin’s dull-witted face loomed into view. He sighed to himself. Teobrin’s features were animated at the thought of being helpful but Ydari remained unimpressed.
“Hello Sir,” Teobrin bleated happily.
“What are you doing here?” Ydari asked, almost dreading to hear the answer.
“Well sir, you did say to inform the Queen that you were tackling crime around your bed,” Teobrin said with a manic grin. “She said she would wait for you to get here with, how did she word it?” the Guardsman started, scratching his head with the effort.
“You didn’t actually tell the Queen I was tackling crime in my bedroom, did you? That was a joke,” Ydari said incredulously. “Oh, never mind.”
“Utmost urgency!” Teobrin exclaimed suddenly, raising a hand triumphantly as if to accentuate his point.
The Guard Captain mutely ignored his cohort’s idiotic ramblings and stepped past him. Ydari beheld the magnificent structure of the Palace complex one last time. At the peak of the soaring tower, a golden inlay had been painted onto the white walls, giving the peak of the spire the appearance of a mighty crown sat atop the battlements. The splendour of Maleardhus was well known far and wide and no expense had been spared on the city’s construction. However, to Ydari, it all seemed a pointless waste of time and effort. Teobrin hovered at his side, the same vacant-eyed expression adorning his features. At this point, his look of honest but simple wit seemed more like a permanent decoration. Ydari shook his head once more and headed toward the steps to the Palace.
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Chapter Two
The room that opened up before Ydari was vast. Huge towers of smooth white pillars rose up to form the base of the white tower, the Crown jewel of Maleardhus. The face of every stone was smooth and untainted, giving the expansive hall a cold, if not, clinical feeling. The marble floors shone and gleamed in the light. They were the same dazzling hue as the walls save for a thick black border where the walls met the floor to set the two in contrast. In the middle of the floor, the crest of the Faloria, the royal family, had been painted in black and was almost always the first detail that was noticed by visitors to the Palace. It was designed to scream the significance of the White Tower and was held up as a symbol of Maleardhus’ grandeur and significance.
One of the Royal Guard stood by each pillar and they created an imposing circle of steel that added a threatening undertone to the otherwise grandiose affair. Each one wore uniforms of rich emerald and maroon sashes draped over one shoulder. Ceremonial swords were strapped at their sides and they gleamed with the morning light. Several dignitaries milled about in the centre of this expansive space and the repetitive foot tapping of the more impatient among them echoed around the vaulted ceilings. Here the sound was amplified and the whole display made some of the more timid visitors to the Palace feel small and insignificant. On the opposite side of the room a staircase rose to the next floor and was very much the focal point of everyone’s attention should they ever find themselves here. Generations of the royal family had used it many a time to make a grand entrance while the ladies of the house swept gracefully down its steps.
To finish off the trappings of the Palace, huge portraits hung around the room and faces of long-dead monarchs looked out. This amused Ydari most of all. Every individual was treated with the same reverence and respect in spite of the fact that, in their lifetimes, some of these rulers had been some of the most tyrannical and paranoid men to have ever lived. Yet here they all hung. The Greats intermingled with the bloody butchers and beasts that cropped up once a generation. As such, to Ydari’s mind, they hoped to create an illusion of peaceful and glorious rule passed down through an unblemished royal line.
Ydari stepped forward stiffly, a shiver tingling its way up his spine as he approached the dignitaries. They half turned but paid him no heed. Ydari couldn’t help but take in their faces and observe every slight gesture and movement. Two of them wore ankle-length robes of rich maroon trimmed with a white woollen border. The one tapping his foot stood a full head taller than his companion and he wore a luxurious golden chain around his neck. At its centre, the seal of Azreus was emblazoned. His fellow priest wore no such adornment, save for a plain silver circlet on his head that signified his place amongst the faithful. Ydari’s glaring eyes caused the two men to look at him uneasily before turning their backs to him and conversing with one another in hushed tones.
The Guard Captain paid the two priests no further attention as he walked past them and toward the opulent staircase. Just to one side, the Royal Chamberlain waited, garbed similarly to the Queen’s soldiers who ringed the main hall just behind them. Ydari couldn’t help noting that the Chamberlain had a long face that seemed to be in a permanent sneer as if a hidden cache of smelling salts was never more than inches from his nose. His hair was thinning, bald spots glistening in the daylight, while the hair that remained had been swept to create an ineffectual comb-over. The Chamberlain turned to face Ydari as he approached, his sneer growing ever wider. In his mind’s eye, Ydari pictured slapping the smirk right off his face but merely contented himself to a half-smile. The Chamberlain’s brow creased in anger as he gave Ydari his full attention.
“Ydari, so good of you to come even though you still refuse to wear the ceremonial armour of your rank when you come to speak with her Majesty. You’ve tackled the recent outbreak of crime in the vicinity of your bedroom I trust?” the Chamberlain enquired with a condescending smirk.
“Indeed, which is still more crime than you could ever handle Londorff,” Ydari retorted. “And for your information, I only dress this way because I’m on such good terms with her Maj,” Ydari finished with a grin.
“This is outrageous!” Londorff exclaimed. “You will refer to her highness with the proper respect or not at all. Is that clear? And another thing, my official title is the Royal Chamberlain and you had best start addressing me as such,” the Chamberlain said with haughty derision. He tried to puff his scrawny c
hest out to give his words more emphasis.
“I hear you Mister Chamber pot. Awfully sorry to have offended you,” Ydari replied, his mischievous grin widening. “Personal question, if I may? Why does your face look more and more like warped shoe leather every time I see you? Your mother must have attempted to drown you at birth if she saw a face like that. More’s the pity. She would have surely been given a medal for her humanitarian services had she performed such a deed but alas I have to endure it every time I’m here,” Ydari said sardonically.
“Why I never!” the outraged Chamberlain blustered.
“Had an original thought?” Ydari joked, raising a finger in the air to accentuate the insult. “Now if you could be a dear and move? I have an urgent meeting. I do so enjoy these verbal sparring sessions we have, even if they are awfully one-sided.”
Londorff opened and closed his mouth a few times and the only sound to escape his lips was a raspy strangled noise. Ydari saluted to him mockingly before setting up the staircase. After the Guard Captain had disappeared from view Londorff remained transfixed, all the while his face turning a bright crimson as his anger grew behind a thinly veiled mask of etiquette and pomp. He turned and saw the two priests fighting to hide their laughter. The Chamberlain let out a sudden scream of frustration before turning on his heel and stomping up the stairs, the raucous laughter of the priests following after him.
The Fractured Heartstone Page 3
