by Henry Vogel
A shadow passed over us as the scout ship drifted up. It dropped lines to crewmen on the ground but the crew stayed at their stations, all eyes on the pursuing airship. The Tartegian warship came up close behind the scout ship, armed men crowding its rails.
An officer stood in the bow and, his voice booming, called, “We seek the man called Martin Bane. I hold a royal order for his arrest!”
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“Captain,” Callan called, “why is a Tartegian warship attempting to enforce a Mordanian royal order? For that matter, why is a Tartegian warship in Mordanian skies at all? You are allowed in our skies to escort royalty, nothing more.”
Murmurs of assent rose from the people in the park, all of whom had stopped to watch this drama play out.
“I am not in the habit of explaining my actions or my orders to random young women,” the officer said, contempt in his voice. “Now, if you please, direct me to the man in charge, young woman!”
Conversation in the park died away at this response. That meant my next words were heard by all.
“The proper form of address to this young lady is ’Your Highness.’ Further, I will hear a proper tone of respect in your voice when next you speak or you will answer to my blade!”
Callan crossed her arms and did something I would have sworn was impossible if I hadn’t seen it for myself. She looked down on a man floating twenty-five meters above her.
“That was a nice touch, David,” she said quietly. “It’s going to be fun having you around.”
“Princess Callan?” the officer exclaimed. "Can it truly be you? You’ve been missing so long that some in the palace have begun to fear the worst. Prince Rupor, of course, is not among those!”
Around us, voices rose again, this time in excited speculation and amazement. The kidnapped princess had turned up in their city and appeared to have had a hand in defeating the trogs. Listening to snippets of conversation, I could tell a legend had just been born. How long would it be before the story had Callan, sword waving above her head, leading the final charge against the trogs?
“You have not answered my question, Captain,” Callan said.
“Of course, Your Highness,” the captain said. I’ll give him this, he got the tone right this time. "I’ll be right down!”
As the crew scrambled to lower their captain, Bane said, “What is your intention, Highness?”
“Have no fear, Martin,” Callan said, “I will honor our agreement. You will not be turned over to this Tartegian.”
“I had no doubts on that score, Highness,” Bane said, “but if you expect a fight I must signal for my men to get into position.”
“Forgive me for misinterpreting your concern, Martin. I do not expect a fight,” Callan said.
The captain marched up to Callan and bowed. "Captain Hanral at your service, Your Highness! I am pleased to find you safe and well. To answer your question, we enforce the standing order of arrest issued by your father.”
“And how long has that order been standing, Captain?” Callan asked.
“I am sorry, Your Highness,” Hanral said, “I don’t know exactly. I believe the order was issued the day after your abduction.”
“Thank you, Captain Hanral. You may disregard that order,” Callan said.
“I don’t understand,” Hanral said. “Don’t you want those responsible for your kidnapping brought to justice?”
“More than you can possibly imagine, Captain,” Callan said. Motioning to Bane, she added, “But Martin Bane has rendered invaluable service to Mordan and is no longer subject to arrest.”
“This man is Martin Bane?” Hanral’s eyes went wide.
Martin sketched a salute, “I’m so very pleased to meet you, Captain Hanral.”
The captain jumped back from Bane and shouted to his crew, “Shoot this man! Shoot him now!”
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My heart stopped as Callan jumped in front of Bane and shouted to the Tartegian crewmen, “You will do no such thing!”
Then I jumped in front of Callan. To my immense relief, the Tartegian crewmen were already lowering their crossbows. Spinning to face Callan, I said, “Don’t do that!”
Hanral, his face pale, added, “I must concur with your bodyguard, Your Highness!”
“Well, I appreciate the gesture, Your Highness,” Martin said. I glared at him over Callan’s head and he added, “But it was rather ill conceived.”
Callan, unflustered by all the commotion, turned her gaze back to Hanral. “Listen to me very carefully, Captain. I am countermanding the standing order for Martin’s arrest. As of this moment it is null and void. Is that clear?”
“But Your Highness,” Hanral said, “this order comes from your king. A princess cannot countermand her king!”
“You dare to argue Mordanian law with me?” Callan’s eyes blazed. Once again, she managed to look down upon a man who stood a full head taller than she. “You are in command of a foreign warship in Mordanian skies. Wars have begun over less! If you want to argue legalities, Captain, let’s start with an explanation for that!”
All thoughts of arresting Martin Bane appeared to flee from the captain’s mind. Callan had neatly taken Hanral off the offensive and put him on defense.
“W-w-why I carry royal permits to sail Mordan’s skies,” Hanral stammered. “The permits, like the arrest order, are signed by your father. Our squadron escorted Prince Rupor to Morda and His Highness offered us to aid in the search for you, Your Highness. That is why we sail Mordan’s skies.”
“I see,” Callan appeared to mull over the captain’s answer. “You will fetch those permits when this conversation is over.”
“Of course, Your Highness!” Hanral replied.
“But that doesn’t explain what you’re doing here in Faroon,” she added.
“Ah, that is easily explained, Your Highness,” the captain beamed, apparently happy to have a ready answer. “We had returned to Morda to deliver a message to Prince Rupor and your father. While we were there, word came that Faroon may have been attacked. As the city was along the route back to the squadron, Prince Rupor suggested that we investigate the situation. Your father accepted his offer.”
“Very well, Captain,” Callan relented, “your explanation is reasonable. Have those permits brought to me and then you can be on your way to rejoin your squadron.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” the captain said. “I do have one question for you, if I may?”
“Of course,” Callan said.
“You are not the only person we seek,” Hanral said. “We also seek Prince Raoul. Do you know where he could be found?”
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“Prince Raoul was with us when our airship crashed in Faroon,” Callan said. “I’m afraid we were separated shortly after that. Now that the city is once again under human control, the prince is our top priority.”
Hanral’s face fell, though he rallied to say, “I’m certain you will do your best, Your Highness.”
“You have my word, Captain Hanral. We will not leave Faroon without Prince Raoul,” Callan said. “Now, please do not let me stop you from rejoining your squadron.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” the captain said. “but that won’t be necessary. All ships in my squadron have a standing order from Prince Rupor which overrides all others. Should any Tartegian ship find you or His Highness, we are to render assistance and provide escort to Morda.”
I was cursing silently but Callan gave the captain a dazzling smile. “That’s very kind of you and Prince Rupor! Now, could you fetch those permits your mentioned? It’s important that my subjects see me verify their authenticity.”
“At once, Your Highness!” Hanral said.
After the captain was hoisted back to his airship, Bane asked, “What really happened with the Spare Prince?”
“He ran away the first chance he got,” I said.
“And are you really going to take the time to search for him?” Bane said.
“Don�
�t have to,” I said. “We’ve got him tied up in a hideout not far from here. Tristan is looking after him.”
“Isn’t he a little old to be watching someone like Raoul?” Bane asked.
“Sorry, I wasn’t clear,” I said. “It turns out Tristan is a doctor. He’s tending to Raoul’s wounded leg.”
“The trogs got him after he ran?” Bane said. “Good for them!”
“No,” Callan said. “I stabbed him.”
Bane’s mouth opened and closed twice but no words came out. It was the first time I’d seen Bane at a loss for words. Taking advantage of his silence, I told him the highlights of our time in Faroon.
“I’ve got no idea how we’re going to keep the Tartegians from taking Raoul on their warship,” I said, “but we most definitely do not want Raoul talking to any Tartegians before we get Callan home.”
“Don’t worry, darling,” Callan said, “I’ve already figured that out. Milo? I want you to deliver a message to Tristan.”
As Callan gave her message to Milo, I decided to have one last talk with the Great One. I wanted to ask him about the translator. By the time I returned, Milo had delivered the message and was back, also.
“Remember the human translator for the trogs?” I said. "The Great One says the plan to form an army and invade Mordan was concocted by the translator.”
“Does this translator have a name?” Bane asked.
“I only know what the trogs called him,” I replied. “I had a hard time understanding what the Great One said, but it was something like Hard Hand Wind Low.”
Callan cried, “Ardan Windslow?”
Bane exclaimed, “It can’t be! He’s dead!”
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“You both knew this man?” I asked. “Who is he?”
Bane bowed to Callan, gesturing for her to speak first.
“You remember the kidnapping attempt I told you about?” she asked. "When I was four and Rob earned the sword he gave to you?”
“Of course,” I said. “Was Windslow one of the nobles behind the plot?”
“No, it’s worse than that. Windslow was captain of the palace guard. At one time, he’d even been my uncle’s personal bodyguard. My father trusted Windslow absolutely,” Callan said. "The lords behind the plot bribed him to clear the path for the kidnappers. He changed guard schedules, moved guards to other positions, and bribed or threatened other guards.
“After the conspirators were discovered, those lords tried to lay most of the blame on Windslow. It didn’t work and every one of them was executed, with the exception of Windslow. Somehow, he managed to escape the dungeon with the help of some petty criminal.”
Comprehension dawned as another tale came to mind.
“Martin, are you the ’petty criminal’ in Callan’s tale?” I asked.
Callan whipped around in surprise, catching Bane’s slow nod.
“We were kept in the same cell,” he said. "Windslow had an escape plan, but it took two men. I was awaiting execution so of course I agreed to help! Once we were free, Windslow went to a bar in one of the poorest areas in the city. He told me he needed to arrange passage out of the country for the two of us. Windslow had me keep watch from an alley. After an hour of waiting, I went looking for him. I found his headless body in a back room.”
“Are you sure it was him?” I asked.
“I didn’t take time to investigate,” Bane said. "The corpse had the right clothes and the right build. The head was missing, but I assumed it was Windslow and that he’d given himself away. It looks like I was fooled.”
Callan said, “The lords always claimed Windslow recruited them, though no one believed it. I guess Martin wasn’t the only one fooled by Windslow.”
“Is it possible Windslow was working with Tarteg at the time?” I asked.
“There were rumors... Tarteg and Mordan have a long history of conflict,” Callan said. "But I was too young to understand any of that. It was sixteen years ago, after all!”
“Whatever drove Windslow to betray your family back then seems to still be driving him today,” I said. "It can’t be a coincidence that you were kidnapped just as Windslow decided to attack Mordan. But was Windslow working with Raoul’s mother? Or does he just have a good spy network and decided to take advantage of the situation?”
Callan’s face hardened, “Either way, all of this has only been possible because of my betrothal to Rupor!”
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“Everyone told me Queen Beatrice—Raoul’s mother—was the one who suggested joining the kingdoms through marriage. It seems she waited until she had everything in place for her plot before making that suggestion,” Callan said. "I thought the marriage would mean an end to war between our countries. Instead, it’s caused more death and destruction.”
“But why would she want the trogs to attack?” I asked. “How would that help turn Raoul into a hero?”
“Maybe her goal was to lure Rupor into combat,” Bane said. “If Rupor dies, Raoul goes from Spare Prince to Heir Prince in the blink of an eye. That’s one heck of a display of motherly love, don’t you think?”
“This is giving me a headache,” I said. “I’m changing the subject for a while. Martin, can you send some men to repair Tristan’s airship? Milo can lead them to the Pauline.”
“Consider it done,” Martin said. He turned and began rounding up a repair team.
Callan said. “Milo, we need you to lead a repair crew to our airship. Head back to Tristan after that. Please deliver another message to him.”
Callan whispered in Milo’s ear for a few seconds. Milo grinned, saluted, then headed off with the crew. The salute wasn’t bad for a kid who’d never given one in his life.
“Now what?” I asked.
“Now we’re going to make Captain Hanral the happiest man in the city,” Callan said. Raising her voice, she called, “Please tell Captain Hanral I’ve just received word that Prince Raoul has been found!”
That caused some activity on the Tartegian airship! Within seconds, Hanral was lowered to the ground. Despite the excitement, the captain was carrying several pieces of paper. They must be the permits Callan had asked to see.
“You have news of His Highness?” Hanral asked.
“Yes, Captain. Raoul is alive and mostly unharmed,” Callan said. “He’s with—”
“Mostly unharmed?” Hanral interrupted. “What does that mean?”
Callan folded her arms and glared at the captain. Hanral had no idea why Callan was displeased. I decided to take pity on the guy.
“Pardon the Captain’s interruption, Your Highness,” I said. "I’m sure his concern for Prince Raoul’s health and welfare overrode proper etiquette.”
“Y-yes, that is exactly it!” the captain bowed. "I humbly beg your pardon, Your Highness!”
“Your dedication to Prince Raoul is commendable, Captain,” Callan relented. "You need not concern yourself. Raoul has a leg wound, painful but nothing to worry about. We travel with a physician who is attending to Raoul’s wound now.”
“Please forgive me, Your Highness,” Hanral said, “but I must insist my ship’s surgeon examine His Highness.”
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“But of course, Captain! I’d expect nothing less from a dedicated officer such as yourself,” Callan said, smiling. “I’m sure Dr. Agrilla will welcome a second opinion.”
“Dr. Agrilla?” Hanral asked. “The man they call the Desert Doctor?”
“The very same,” Callan said. “Is there a problem?”
“No! Not one bit,” the captain said. “From all reports I’ve heard, Prince Raoul couldn’t be in more capable hands!”
“Splendid!” Callan clapped her hands in delight. “Then you won’t mind if Raoul stays on our ship, with his doctor?”
The captain was taken aback, “You won’t be riding on my airship, Your Highness?”
“I began my return journey on Dr. Agrilla’s airship,” Callan said. “I’ll finish it the same way.”
Cap
tain Hanral took a moment to think the situation through, balancing Tristan’s reputation and a possible perceived insult to the woman he thought would be his future queen against the need to insure Raoul’s survival.
“I’ll defer to my surgeon. If he has no objections to His Highness riding with your doctor then I will allow it,” Hanral said.
“That’s a fine idea, Captain,” Callan said. “Have your surgeon fetched and I’ll take you to Raoul.”
The captain turned to call instructions to his airship. I took a moment to pull Callan away from Hanral.
“Callan, we can’t allow Raoul to talk to the surgeon or Captain Hanral!” I whispered. “He’ll tell them who stabbed him, for one thing, and—”
Callan placed a finger over my lips, “Raoul won’t tell them anything. Milo is delivering instructions to Tristan to drug Raoul. He’ll be incoherent at worst, unconscious at best.”
“That’s...brilliant! Our children are going to be smart and beautiful,” I said. “But what are they going to get from me?”
“Courage, strength, conviction, quick wits, a level head in emergencies,” Callan said. “I could go on, but the good Captain is looking our way.”
We rejoined the captain and, soon, his surgeon joined us. Together, we set off for our hiding place. I only hoped Raoul was unconscious when we got there!
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Raoul’s eyes were wide open when we reached the hiding place. When I walked in, his eyes swung toward me. Then they tracked past me to a spot on the wall. It looked as if Raoul was struggling to control his vision but not having much success. His eyes fluttered and then shut before Captain Hanral or the surgeon entered.
Tristan met the surgeon as he entered and the two quickly fell into a jargon-filled conversation. I got the gist of the conversation, if not the details.
