by I K Spencer
The couple stepped into the coach and he waited for it to disappear completely before moving from his spot behind the wall. When he could no longer hear the departing carriage, he scanned the street to insure he was alone, then walked toward the bungalow as though out for an evening stroll, pulling up his cloak’s hood to hide his face. He paused in front of the dwelling a moment to scan for nosy neighbors and seeing none, darted up the path and slipped around the side of the building. He continued around to the back, using whatever cover was available, and approached the back door, which he found locked. He slipped some thin strips of metal from his cloak and went to work on the simple lock, glancing up regularly to scan for witnesses. In a matter of seconds, he heard the satisfying sound of the lock opening and quietly slipped inside.
He stood with his back to the door and lit a small candle. He pulled back the hood of his cloak and surveyed the kitchen. The strong face looked haggard and thinner but his gray eyes were intense and determined as he looked around, deciding where to begin. The maiden's bedroom seemed the most useful location so he started there.
The guardsman methodically searched each room, careful to leave everything in its proper place. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, anything suspicious. He expected to have at least a couple of hours before the young lovers returned but paused whenever he heard a carriage in the street outside, waiting to be sure the coach did not come to a stop in front of the woman's dwelling.
It took nearly two hours to go through every room and he found nothing he could call suspicious. Disappointed but still feeling the woman somehow was involved, the weary guardsman sat in a stuffed chair and let his eyes wander around the darkened parlor. As his gaze passed over the alcove at the front of the bungalow where the artist kept her painting materials, he realized he hadn't really looked at her work. Curious to see if the woman possessed any talent, he rose from the chair and moved over to the work area. On one easel he found a partially finished portrait of a scowling, bald man Garrick assumed was her latest subject.
Leaning forward to take a closer look, Garrick's elbow hit a pot of brushes, knocking it off the small table next to the easel. With amazing quickness for anyone, much less a large man over fifty, he deftly snatched the pot out of the air just before it hit the floor. He whispered an oath, expecting to get doused with paint cleaner, but felt nothing. Frowning, the stocky figure knelt and felt the floor. It remained dry, though he’d been certain the pot had turned upside down as it tumbled into his hand.
He inspected up the lone brush that had escaped the pot and his eyes widened in surprise. The brush was caked with old paint. With mounting interest, he peered inside the pot and saw that it was dry and that dried paint caked all the brushes inside. He carefully held every brush close to the candle flame and examined each thoroughly. All were encrusted with dust and paint so old it crumbled at his touch. The brushes had not been used for months or even years.
Trembling with excitement, he next looked more closely at the unfinished painting, holding the small candle as close as he dared. The portrait, though of professional quality, looked blurred, and he saw why as he ran his finger along the top of the canvas frame. The portrait was covered with a thick coating of dust and he guessed it also had not been worked on for a very long time.
Garrick nearly cried out as the truth hit him—the fair Miss Urvena was no painter! He had never seen her work and though noteworthy, alone it was not overly suspicious since he had only been watching her for a short time. This, however, was a different matter. All the artisans he had known meticulously maintained their tools and materials. He now felt certain that the maiden was somehow involved and he must find a way to convince Anthen of it.
He hurried from the room and left through the back door, making sure he left it locked. He drew his hood up and after checking the street, made his way to the road from the shadow of the cottage. The hooded figure passing through the dark streets bore mixed feelings, happy to have finally found something of importance but worried about how it would affect the young guardsman.
Back inside the maiden's cottage, the moonlight illuminated the frowning portrait subject, perhaps angry in knowing the painting would never be finished. Everything in the alleged artist's work area was in its proper place, save for a single paintbrush on the floor beside the easel.
********
Anthen stared at Garrick with obvious contempt when the older guardsman voiced his suspicions about the maiden.
"You are insane!" The younger man's voice quavered with fury.
"Hear me out!" Garrick interrupted quickly. He had carefully rehearsed what he would say, knowing he would get just one chance. "Have you ever seen her paint?"
"No but that proves nothing! We always have plans and I have never paid her a surprise visit."
"Does she ever talk of her work?"
Anthen did not answer right away. "I do not recall but she may have."
"Anthen listen to me. Those brushes and that half-finished portrait have not been touched in months, certainly not since she arrived in Gates. I am not saying she has a hand in this matter with Cidrl. I am saying that these things are suspicious and we must consider that she might be involved. You must open your mind enough for that or we are doomed to fail," Garrick implored.
Anthen said nothing but Garrick could tell that the young guardsman was fighting to control his wrath.
Garrick pressed on. "Anthen you must see that you have changed. You have a rage burning inside you. Why? You feel your loyalties shifting in favor of Cidrl and away from the Guard do you not?"
Anthen did not answer but Garrick could see him struggling.
"How is such a thing possible Anthen? Look, I do not expect you to believe me right away. What I am asking as that we take precautions and investigate. Do not eat or drink anything she gives you."
Anthen winced as if the words were a blow.
Garrick continued, "If you must eat or drink something, take the poison antidote. Look for signs but do not change your behavior or you might make her suspicious."
Garrick could tell that the younger man was struggling to keep from breaking down completely. Just the thought that Urvena might have betrayed him appeared almost too much for Anthen to take.
When he spoke, Anthen choked out the words as though each caused him searing pain. "I will do these things but you are wrong. Once I prove to you that Urvena is innocent, I am finished with this insanity. I will quit the Guard." The young guardsman did not raise his voice but his rage was obvious nonetheless.
He turned and walked out of the room without another word. With shaking hands, Garrick immediately poured himself a shot of whiskey and drained the glass in one gulp. It tore him apart just to see the tremendous agony the younger man was obviously enduring. He would rather face an entire Dolonary squad alone than go through that experience again. There were moments during the heated discussion when he thought Anthen might explode and he did not relish having the deadly young warrior as an enemy. Somehow, though, Anthen had endured the inner battle and had agreed to at least consider the maiden’s involvement a possibility.
The weary guardsman, completely drained from the tense encounter, went to his cot and lay down fully clothed. No longer a young man, the long hours and stress were taking their toll. His last thought, before submitting to the much-needed sleep, was that in all likelihood he would be the one to leave the Guard when all this was finished, if it didn't kill him first.
Garrick arose early the next morning, though not as early as he usually needed to wake in order to follow Anthen. He had decided to focus on the woman and would seek lodging nearer to her small cottage. After a hasty breakfast of tea with bread and jam, he walked the surrounding streets and eventually found a room on the opposite side of the same street. Though some distance away, it still provided a reasonable view. Using his glass, he could watch both the house's front door and the alcove where the woman supposedly painted.
For the next few days, he spent most
of his waking hours watching the woman's dwelling. During the day he would watch through the telescope hour after hour and after dark he would venture out across from the bungalow to his previous vantage point behind the rock wall. The elder's hope diminished as day after day of the surveillance proved fruitless. He confirmed that the woman never painted but knew that would not be enough to convince Anthen in his current state of mind. Miss Urvena left on only a couple of occasions and the guardsman followed at a discreet distance. Both excursions turned out to be harmless shopping trips.
Anthen continued splitting time between Gates and Cidrl's estate. Each time the apprentice reported to him, it seemed to Garrick that the younger man's patience had deteriorated further. Anthen had also reported that Cidrl and he were planning to leave for Dolonar very shortly and Garrick did not like the gleam that came to young man's eyes, as though he was looking forward to it somehow.
Garrick feared he was running out of time. If something did not break before the trip, he was nearly certain he must abort the mission and get the young man out of harm’s way, though part of him feared he might already be too late.
********
Anthen stood at the window of his tower room nearly at the top of Cidrl's castle home. The moon was nearly full and he could see the compound clearly. If not for the trees on all sides he would be able to see far out into the surrounding plains. He had made the now familiar trip from Gates that afternoon. After a brief report, he and Cidrl had spent a good part of the afternoon on the practice field. It had been a good practice session and afterward, he’d enjoyed a nice meal before retiring for the night.
Despite everything he was in good spirits now. Garrick's bizarre accusations had really been a shock but several days had passed and the old man still had found no proof. He had taken the precautions Garrick had suggested and had kept his eyes open and he’d not seen a single suspicious act on Urvena's part. What bothered him most now was his statement to Garrick about quitting the Guard because he didn’t feel that way at all. He did not want to give up being a guardsman. What he wanted was for Garrick and his wild suspicions of Cidrl and Urvena to just go away. He was very tired of being on guard at all times and knew that he could really enjoy this apprenticeship if it wasn't for Garrick and his farfetched theories. So far all the worry and distrust had amounted to nothing.
He could hear only the slight rustling of leaves as he gazed out the window, his lamp the only light in the entire dark compound. It was long past the hour when the rest of the household had retired but he knew he would not sleep, though he felt tired enough. More and more at night his mind raced for hours and the thoughts and growing bitterness kept him awake.
Staring at the moon, he suddenly felt a strong sensation of movement somewhere nearby. He could see nothing but a moment later, thought he heard a light scraping noise from the direction of the stables, like a door opening. Still dressed, he grabbed his gear and silently moved through the dark house. As he stepped outside into the warm night, his attention was directed to the western gate and he caught a brief glimpse of a mounted rider passing beneath the arch.
Without really thinking about it, Anthen rushed to the stable, saddled his horse, and led the bay stallion on foot toward the gate through which the rider had passed. Once outside the wall he mounted up, though kept Rorc at a slow walk as they moved down the twisting road. Under the cover of the trees it was pitch black and he wanted to avoid overtaking his quarry.
After what seemed like a very long time, though it actually was just a few minutes, he could see the dim opening that signaled the end of the wooded trail. He halted at the edge of the woods, still hidden in shadow, and scanned the moonlit prairie for the rider. He saw nothing for a minute, then a mounted figure came into view, cresting a small rise to the west near the road to Gates. He urged Rorc into an easy gallop and struggled to keep the rider in view in the dim light.
He lost sight of the distant rider often but he merely followed the trail, Gates the man’s likely destination. Every so often he would catch a glimpse of the mounted figure ahead to support his guess. As they neared the town, he pushed hard and narrowed the gap, afraid of losing the rider among the many streets of the border town. Both riders slowed their mounts to a walk as they entered the silent town and, as the rider passed beneath a street lamp, Anthen felt nearly certain the figure ahead was Cidrl. The apprentice kept well back and used any available cover as he followed the horseman through the dark streets.
With a growing dread, Anthen began to recognize the path they followed. At every corner he prayed that the horseman not make the familiar turn and at every corner he was disappointed. As the rider turned onto what the young guardsman feared to be the street of their destination, he cut behind a building and quickly followed a parallel path of back alleys, circling ahead of his quarry. Once near the street again, he dismounted and crept to a connecting alley. Fighting to control a building panic, he waited for the rider to pass the alley. He clasped his trembling hands together and brought them to his lips in a praying gesture. His mind raced, offering countless excuses for why Cidrl would come here and immediately knowing each was false. Seconds passed and he felt a brief glimmer of hope that the master guardsman would not pass but then he heard the horse approaching and pushed his fist to his mouth to stifle the small moan of anguish that escaped his lips as horse and rider passed by, silhouetted by the moon.
Anthen slumped heavily against the building but just as quickly forced himself back to his feet. On instinct alone, for his mind was in utter chaos, he moved back up the alley to the back of a building and entered it through an unlocked back door. Making no sound but moving quickly, he made his way through the dark tavern rooms and up the stairs.
He reached Garrick's room and gave his regular knock, whispering, "No light."
He felt like screaming for the older man to hurry even though the door opened almost immediately. He pushed past Garrick, already fully alert despite waking only seconds before. The stricken young man went directly to the window, ignoring the older guardsman. Garrick followed his gaze and they both watched the rider pull up in front of the maiden's lodging.
In unison, the two guardsmen raised their scopes and both, one with great interest and one in tremendous pain, saw the face of Cidrl as he dismounted and walked toward the dwelling. Anthen's agony increased tenfold as the door opened and Urvena, clad in a flimsy white robe, hurried forward into the tall guardsman's waiting arms. Garrick gripped the apprentice's arm as they watched the pair kiss passionately. Anthen angrily shook off the elder's hand.
The pair broke the embrace and looked up the street in the opposite direction from the tavern. The guardsmen followed their gaze and saw another rider approaching. When the rider was near enough, both men recognized it to be the man in black. In his current state of mind, Anthen felt a savage joy when he saw that the man still bore marks from the beating Anthen had given him weeks earlier. The thin man joined the other two at the front door and all three stepped inside.
"I will try to get close enough to hear them. It is warm and there may be windows open," Garrick whispered and started for the door.
"No," Anthen answered sharply. "I will go."
"Anthen, you cannot," the older man said softly. "You must be ready to flee quickly to return to the castle ahead of him. He must suspect nothing."
Anthen's knuckles whitened as he gripped the telescope fiercely, knowing the older man was right but struggling to maintain enough self-control to keep from rushing across the street. "Go," he finally whispered in a barely audible voice, then turned back to the window.
Garrick hurried through the silent tavern and out the back door that Anthen had entered earlier. He jogged behind some outbuildings, then ducked along the stone wall across from the woman's lodging. He paused there and peered over the wall to survey the situation. A lamp had been lit and the trio was seated in the front room of the small house. After a moment he slipped over the rock wall and crawled quickly across the r
oad to the house, flattening himself against the rock exterior of the dwelling. He heard their voices murmuring and moved closer to the window, straining to hear the words.
"... into trances for minutes at a time." It was Urvena's voice. "He angers instantly, though never toward me."
"Well he has to me and he will pay some day," interjected an angry voice Garrick guessed to be that of the man in black. Had Anthen given him the bruises?
"You will have the ultimate revenge," said the smooth voice that must belong to Cidrl. "He will be lost forever, his body my slave. And we are agreed that he is ready?" The speaker's confident tone, as much as his words, brought a shiver to the elder guardsman's spine.
Garrick could not hear the response if there was one.
"Wonderful," Cidrl continued. "I will send the apprentice to Gates tomorrow to settle his affairs and bid farewell to his dear love," he said sarcastically. "We will depart the following dawn. Our time is at hand my friends. The apprentice will belong to me by the time we reach Dolonarian soil and our friends across the border should be nearly ready. A great storm is gathering, like the world has never seen." Cidrl laughed and the confidence in that laugh chilled Garrick.
"And we will be together my Lord?" the woman asked, a hint of fear or uncertainty evident in her voice.
"Of course," Cidrl answered. "And you shall be a queen."
A slight change in Cidrl's eager tone made the guardsman wonder if the traitor was being completely honest with the maiden.
"Leaving so soon?" Cidrl asked abruptly and Garrick stiffened in alarm, thinking he might need to flee.
"Are we not done here?" replied the other man. "If you are departing the day after tomorrow, then I will start out tomorrow. I am sure the two of you will not mind if I say goodnight now."
"Not at all," the fallen guardsman chuckled. "But first we shall toast to the victory that soon will be ours."
