The shadowy forms of Claudia and Cat said nothing, waiting patiently. Danica stepped behind the door to wait. Helene soon arrived, huffing slightly from the climb. She gave the open door a curious look, but didn't hesitate in entering her own apartment. Danica slammed the door shut behind her.
"What?" Helene cried, then was cut off by Claudia's hand over her mouth.
"Be wary, cousin," Claudia said before removing her hand.
Cat turned up an oil lamp. Helene glanced around wild-eyed at the hostile faces of her friends, and the bared steel in their hands. A chill ran up her back.
"I don't understand. Why are you doing this?"
"Where did you spend the night?" Danica said. "And who was the woman you spent it with?"
Helene's eyes widened, then she developed a defensive look about her.
"Just a night of harmless fun with an old lover, that's all," she said, biting her lip nervously as she glanced from hard-set face to hard-set face. "Why do you ask?"
"We know where you spent the night," Cat said. "Did you betray us to the Votarian Guard?"
"No! I wouldn't do that. You're my friends," she cried. Danica thought she looked truly horrified to be accused of such a terrible deed. "I swear! On my honor as a knight, a Peeress, and a Vikon, I swear I have never and will never betray you!"
Claudia took a firm grip of her right upper arm, "Drop your wards."
Helene's eyes widened again as fear claimed her features.
Earlier Claudia had advised Danica how what they wanted would terrify Helene. No spellcaster liked to expose themselves unprotected to another spellcaster, not even to friends and family. Though she trusted Claudia with her life, Helene would find the simple act of dropping her protective wards almost impossible to do.
Helene closed her eyes and chanted the required spell that left her vulnerable to magical exploitation. Danica relaxed a little. The fact she yielded to quickly to their demand spoke volumes.
"There. Make it fast," Helene whispered, eye red and teary.
Claudia looked just as sad, but explained, "One of our Sorority Sisters betrayed us once, so now all Sisters are enchanted with a spell that enables our Sisters to check our loyalty and honesty with a simple spell." She took a deep breath and slowly released it. "It's not a spell we care to cast. Thoughts are sacred."
Claudia immediately chanted a short spell. Her hand began glowing blue as it traced intricate outlines in the air before Helene. Danica and Cat watched in a mixture of apprehension and awe of a power they didn't understand. Danica shifted to her mage sight, seeing Helene without her wards for the first time and seeing swirling magicks surrounding Claudia. Then Claudia placed her still glowing hand on Helene's forehead, ripping a gasp from her trembling lips as Danica watched the magicks surrounding Claudia rush into her and engulf her head.
"She's telling the truth," Claudia said, appearing both embarrassed and relieved. Removing her hand, "I'm sorry, Helene, but we had to know for sure."
Helene, visibly shaken, nodded, "I understand. May I replace my wards now?"
"Yes," Danica said, also embarrassed at having doubted her friend's loyalty. She watched Helene shakily cross the room to a chair, then replace her wards with a soft chant. "We're sorry, but considering the nature and power of our enemies, and then seeing you leading that Votarian Guard officer around on a leash..."
"I understand," she said. "I didn't see it before, but that was poor judgment on my part."
"I should think so!" Claudia said. "Considering the predicament our friends are in, you should have stayed far away from anyone who might be interested in their whereabouts. What if you had run into Dame Falen while in the palace? Where would you be now? Where would we be?"
"Palace? No one said she was actually inside the palace," Danica said. Helene tensed again, while Claudia and Cat gave Danica a curious look. "Her friend can take her inside the Imperial Palace after hours?"
"Yes," Helene said cautiously. "The Votarian Guard’s billet is on the palace grounds. We ended the night in her chambers."
"That's it! Helene's friend can get us into the palace," Danica said. "And no one will ask us any questions."
"No!" Helene shouted angrily, coming to her feet. "I will not let you use my friend in that way. She would be executed! My friends aren't your sword fodder!"
"After what just happened you'll refuse to help us?" Cat said.
"Especially after what just happened," Helene said, looking at them defiantly. "I have always thought of myself first, but this morning you reminded me that I must also think of others. I must be loyal to my friends." She paused to look each hard in the eyes. "All my friends."
Cat and Claudia turned away from her gaze, eyes downcast. Danica just nodded her agreement and sat down frowning.
"Can you help us locate this High Mage Rebecca? Do you know the layout of the palace well enough?" Danica said at length.
"I know basically where the Court Mages are located," she said. "Most everyone in Dahlys does."
"They're located towards the center of the complex," Claudia said matter-of-factly. "Just above the main torture chambers."
"Underground I assume," Danica said, more a statement than a question.
It was traditional to quarter Court Mages below ground and above the torture chambers, or at least within easy access to them. Wizards and sorceresses were usually disdainful of such "mundane" activities as acting as torturers, but their powers were very effective in forcing out confessions and information.
"Actually, no. They have their own wing in the palace," Helene said. "Sorceresses aren't feared and loathed in the same manner in the Empire as in the rest of the world. They played an important role in the Liberation."
Danica shrugged. She didn't really care for a history lesson.
"Exactly how do we get into this wing?"
Shrugging, Helene said, "I don't know. Don't want to know." Both she and Claudia shuddered at the thought of journeying to that lair of sorceresses. "You don't understand how sorceresses prey on witches, and on each other."
"They'd strip us of our powers and energy in a snap, then torture us to death for the fun of it," Claudia said quietly. "And we'd be helpless to stop them."
"We can't go there with you," Helene said, a mixture of guilt and fear on her face. Claudia nodded. "They would feel our magic, our presence, and we'd give you away."
Danica and Cat glanced at each other, both secretly relieved. They had never really planned to go even this far with the two Vikon, and after the near tragedy in the sky battle, they were relieved to know that they wouldn't have to be worrying about whether or not their two friends would die for them. Die for something they knew nothing about.
Though both Helene and Claudia were obviously dying to know the reasons behind their quest. All they knew for certain was that the Imperial Throne was in jeopardy, as were most of the Jarland Kingdoms, and that Danica was cursed in some horrible manner. However, the Vikon were a secretive people by custom and nature, so respected their desire for secrecy.
Of that, Danica was eternally grateful. She wasn't sure she could tell them the truth, and lying to them outright would be even worse.
If the two witches couldn't help her further, then she'd have to go back to her original plan. In some ways she felt passing herself and Cat off as ordinary citizens seeking an Imperial Audience would be safer. After all, simple folk couldn't be expected to know their way around the palace. If they were caught where they weren't supposed to be, they could say they were lost and be believed. Roaming the palace halls at night would be another story.
"We understand," Danica said. Everyone could tell she'd made a decision. "Today we cease to be Vikon, and become Amazons." Looking at Cat, "How much longer can we expect our glamour spells to last?"
"A week, maybe two. The spells don't seem to be unraveling yet," Claudia said after a short, chanted spell. "But it won't matter if a sorceress lays eyes on you. Any reasonably powerful sorceress will be able to tell you
have been enchanted and quickly figure out the nature of the spell. Their sorcery is much more powerful."
"Then we'll just have to be careful," Danica said, smiling at Cat.
"Like always," Cat said, arching a brow at Danica.
After a short laugh, Danica stood and walked to a mirror, "So... how do we get this paint off?" Then giving Cat a mischievous look, "This afternoon we are going to pay the Empress a little visit."
"What? That's how we got captured in Celia!" Cat cried.
* * * * *
Dame Falen swung out of the saddle as a member of the Votarian Guard held her bridle. After flying into the nearest mews, they commandeered horses and rode to the Imperial Palace so she could make her report to High Mage Rebecca. Now they were deep inside the palace grounds, near the middle on the north slope. The Court Mages' wing loomed above them in the cool cobblestoned courtyard.
Dame Falen and her remaining troops were all bedraggled, wind-burned, and red-eyed from long days astride warhawks scouring the countryside. She still found it incredible that she had lost Danica and Cat a second time. Rebecca would not be pleased.
Casting a wary glance toward the palace entrance, she noticed several Votarian officers scrutinizing her and her troop. The Votarians were all members of the White Sorority. Every member had long white or yellow-white hair. Other than being noble, gentry, or Peeress, hair color was the only requirement for membership. The White Sorority required its members to wear two votary braids and one ponytail. The votary braids were short and thin, hanging from their temples down to their shoulders and ending in three clear blue beads. The votary tail was a thick handful of their long hair pulled through a blue lacquered "Sorority Ring" atop their head.
Each of the six Sororities that made up the Votarian Guard had the same rule concerning hair color, but with different hair colors. Indeed, their names indicated what color hair the members had: White, Brown, Black, Gold, Red, and Auburn. They all wore the same uniform: White silk blouse under a silver cuirass with gold trim and decorations, short white pleated silk skirt, and very tall white thigh boots. They were armed with matching silver-hilted swords and daggers.
Dame Falen inwardly cringed at the looks of disdain coming from her fellow knights. She knew how she and her troops looked to these haughty officers. She knew the contempt they felt for mercenaries. They served Her Imperial Majesty. Pay was not a consideration, only honor, service, and duty.
Votarian Guards were all knights, whether officers or common guards. They served five years, then had the option of leaving. With it being a highly prestigious position, many chose to stay. Though few of them cared about, or needed, the pay, it was considered high by most standards.
Turning to her waiting troops, "Wait here. I won't be long."
After designating two troopers to follow her in with the bundles for Rebecca, she turned and strode past the Votarian officers with barely a nod to acknowledge them. She hated the way they made her feel inadequate. Though of gentry class herself, Falen followed the family tradition and served her five years in the Imperial Army. She served with distinction, receiving most of the Empire's highest awards for valor and service.
Passing the Votarians, she entered through the towering arabesque archway of pure white marble. The vast two-story entrance foyer was larger than the houses most of Falen's troopers grew up in. It was all white marble with elaborate golden giltwork. The room was brightly lit by tall windows on three sides, and four massive gold and crystal chandeliers. A grand double staircase, wide enough for four horses abreast to climb, hugged the back wall, sweeping up to the second floor in a crescent shape. A row of four double columns, painted light blue, stood proudly at the top of the stairs. Between them, entrances to hallways beyond could be seen. An even wider staircase dropped down to the lower chambers through the middle of the grand staircase. The Court Mages kept their living quarters upstairs and their laboratories below. The scene never failed to move Falen. She’d never seen the palace's Imperial Residential Wing, but couldn't imagine it being more spectacular and awe-inspiring than this.
After a brief pause, she hurried through the crescent staircase and down to the High Mage's laboratory. She steeled herself as she went. Rebecca would likely be able to see through her attempts to look confident, but her troops needed her to be strong. Who knows, maybe Rebecca wouldn't turn her into a marble statue, like she did to the last agent to fail her.
Stopping before the laboratory door, she quickly looked herself over. After straightening and smoothing her clothes, she knocked on the door. There was a pause, then the door swung open. No one was near them inside. Rebecca was across the eerily dark chamber, bent over some ancient tome.
Rebecca Alanour of Dahlys, High Mage of the Amazon Empire, Falen's employer and mistress, gave no hint she knew they were there. She was tall and slim, with waist length light brown hair and dark brown eyes. A shimmering gown of golden silk clung to her body enticingly.
Born a commoner, her mother a palace cook, Rebecca used her feminine wiles to good measure, becoming a favorite courtesan in the last Empress's Court. Realizing that youth and beauty were fleeing, she befriended the then High Mage, Ayesha. After becoming Ayesha's lover and apprentice, she found she had a knack for magic and quickly became second only to Ayesha in power. Then when Ayesha had to flee the Empire after siding with the losing side when the current Empress usurped her older sister's throne, Rebecca replaced her as High Mage. But Ayesha was still Rebecca's mistress and mentor.
The laboratory was spacious and comfortable looking, though dimly lit for the most part. To the right of the door were five thick oaken tables and numerous shelves covered with Rebecca's alchemy setup and jars of arcane ingredients. The mercenaries looked with a mixture of dread and curiosity at the bubbling liquids. Falen wrinkled her nose at the noxious odors emanating from them. To her left was a sitting area with a small fireplace. Expensive tapestries and paintings decorated the richly paneled walls. A thick-piled carpet of the softest blue covered the cold stone floor.
Signaling her two troopers to stand fast at the door, Falen advanced to a spot halfway to Rebecca and halted. She waited patiently to be recognized. Rebecca continued her reading. To help drive out the rising feelings of dread, Falen again began studying the chamber. It was one of the most comfortable looking laboratories she had ever seen. Most seemed to be dark and drafty affairs, with cryptic and disquieting symbols scrawled on the walls, floors, and ceiling. Rebecca had a side room like that, for conjuring demons and such.
The back of the chamber was lined with bookshelves. It was the most extensive private library Falen had ever seen. Most of the books were on magic. But many of the leather bound tomes covered history, especially pre-Arisen history. Falen was dying for a chance to rummage through the library, but was too scared to ask her mistress.
The only other thing of interest in the laboratory was Rebecca's little sex toy and battle trophy, Monique Arjenour of Horth. The powerful High Sorceress had been tricked and enslaved by Rebecca and her agents, Duchess Natasha and Dame Alexandra. Striped of her powers, enslaved by powerful magicks, the exquisitely beautiful sorceress now knelt near her mistress. Waiting patiently. Mindlessly. Falen found it unnerving to look into Monique's lifeless, big blue eyes. There was nothing there, no flicker of love, hate, fear, or intelligence. Indeed, the only spark of life seemed, strangely enough, to emanate from the large teardrop sapphire hanging between her brows from the sapphire and diamond studded circlet.
Aside from her eyes, Monique was strikingly beautiful and desirable, with a luxuriously thick mane of glossy, knee length chestnut hair and a petite, but shapely, body. Of all the women she had seen, Falen thought only Danica's exotic elven beauty more breathtaking.
"So...you have failed." Rebecca startled her, turning from the cracked, yellowed pages of the grimoire. Steady brown eyes gazed deep into Falen's. "You have returned empty-handed."
The lump in her throat threatened to choke off her reply. "Not entirely,
my Lady. We know their destination is here, to rescue Monique and we'll be ready. Besides..." She motioned for her troopers. After the two bags were emptied with a loud crash of steel on steel, "We brought their personal arms and armor."
Rebecca frowned. "Useless junk."
Startled, "But...but I thought you could discern their location with them. The Sorceress Maeve did back in Celia."
"It's been too long," Rebecca said, waving a hand dismissively. "After a week, personal objects are useless for such endeavors. That and the fact that others, namely you and your troopers, had possession and were handling them. All I'd learn from them is your location."
Dame Falen looked on the two piles with disgust. They had been her last hope of redemption in Rebecca's eyes. Plus, they had put in so much extra effort to bring the bloody things along. Falen paused. Bloody?
"Mistress, what of blood? Their blood is on the armor," Falen said quickly, hopefully.
Rebecca paused thoughtfully.
"Yes, blood would do the trick, but I wouldn't know whose blood I was using. I'd just as likely locate Natasha or Alexandra," she said, her eyes never leaving the twin piles. "But hair will be just as good."
Falen didn't need to be told what to do. She sprang like a cat on the pile of armor belong to Danica.
"No, Danica is an elf and my magic can't locate her even with a part of her body. I'll need some of Cat's hair," Rebecca said.
Falen didn't hesitate, hurrying over to shift through Cat's armor and clothes. Within seconds she had five long black hairs.
Rebecca took them with relish, twisting the ebon strands around a long delicate finger. The wicked smile she graced Falen with gave her hope. Only Rebecca was like a cat, you never knew where you stood with her. One second she was smiling at you forgivingly, the next you were a new statue decorating her chambers, or transformed into some exotic pet.
"Come, slave," Rebecca barked, turning on her heel. Monique didn't hesitate. She rose to her feet and followed Rebecca across the room. "Attend me, Falen."
Into Lands Forbidden (The Elfmaid Trilogy Book 2) Page 22
