Seer of Shadows

by Cleave Bourbon

  Lady Shey’s chambers were only two hallways away from the throne room. At the last moment, she decided to enter the throne room through the secret side entrance. The doorway from the throne room was designed to be seamless, Shey knew, so she just cracked it open enough to peer through it. Two men wearing leather armor and carrying heavy swords were striding down the main corridor of the throne room. Lady Shey was confused. From the way the servant was carrying on, she thought the men had already confronted the highlord. The man walking in front unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the startled highlord.

  Lady Shey abruptly pulled the hidden door open, exited the secret corridor, and cast the man’s sword from his hand with a wisp of magical essence. He looked at her, cracked a smile, and held his hand out to the spot where his sword clanged on the floor. The sword returned to his hand in an instant. He waved it once above his head, and in a slicing motion, lowered it to the highlord’s chest.

  The highlord’s eyes were pleading. “Do something, Lady Shey!”

  “Stop your pathetic pleading!” the man commanded.

  Lady Shey drew in essence and prepared to unleash it on the highlord’s attacker. She could tell by the man’s actions that he could feel her draw in essence. He immediately thrust his sword into the highlord’s chest before Shey could unleash it. At the same time, the highlord was gasping for breath, Shey let loose her spell. The highlord’s attacker blew back into the marble walls with tremendous force. The second attacker, smaller than the first and dressed in black, reacted. He expertly lobbed two daggers at her. Daggers she knew how to block well. With one fluid motion, she waved her forearm, and the daggers missed her, bouncing off the marble walls behind her.

  The first man, now recovering from her attack, rejoined the fight. Shey felt the invisible essence strike her chest. A moment later, she was on the floor. She had her eyes shut, reeling from the pain, but she could hear the commotion of the man at arms and his men entering the throne room. They temporarily commanded the attention of the attackers.

  Shey took the opportunity to go to the highlord. His body was limp; his eyes were open, frozen in the visage of terror. She reached down and closed his eyelids.

  The man at arms came up behind her. “How is he? I sent one of my men to fetch the clerics on the way here.”

  “He’s gone. There was nothing I could do. The sword must’ve pierced his heart; he died instantly,” Shey said.

  “That’s unfortunate,” the man at arms said.

  Lady Shey had no love for the highlord, but she was still sympathetic. “It’s more than unfortunate this man lost his life. Where in Fawlsbane’s name were you? Why were you not here where you belong?”

  “I meant no disrespect, my lady. I was called away. The highlord sent me out. I left two men here.” He glanced around. “Although I do not see them now.”

  “Did you capture the assassins?”

  “They are both wounded, but they still managed to slip away. I have men on it.”

  Shey nodded and then reached under the highlord’s shoulders. “Here, help me get him into a more dignified position.”

  The man at arms grabbed ahold of the highlord’s feet and helped Lady Shey stretch him out flat on the marble floor.

  “Find something to cover his body. I will return in a moment. I have to alert the King’s Council and fill them in on what has happened. If you can manage to stay here.” The man looked at her sheepishly.

  Lady Shey left the man at arms barking out orders to his men and securing the highlord’s body. She made an effort to hurry to the King’s Council chamber. With the highlord gone, they would need to decide on a ward to handle day-to-day affairs until the Silver Drake could select a new leader. She entered the council chamber to find the five men sitting around a wooden table, locked in debate. They abruptly stopped talking when she entered.

  “What is the meaning of this interruption?” a man with dark hair barked at her.

  “Forgive me, Lord Drakkius, but the highlord is dead. He has been murdered. The man at arms is with him now. His men fought with the assassins, but they got away. He has men chasing after the perpetrators.”

  One of the council members, a man named Yarbrough, stood up. “Where was the man at arms when these perpetrators entered the throne room?”

  Lady Shey was shocked. “I don’t believe I said it happened in the throne room, Councilman.”

  The councilman winced. “I only assumed . . . Where else would it happen?”

  “Indeed, where else?” She immediately knew her life was now in danger. Perhaps if I let him get away with the blunder, I can investigate what really happened, she thought. They were in on it. It was obvious to her now. “What are your orders?”

  Drakkius stood from his chair. “You will investigate these assassins. Go check if the highlord’s guards have captured them. Find out what you can and report directly to me in the throne room.”

  Lady Shey bowed. “As you command, Lord Drakkius.” She turned and left the council chamber. “Time to leave,” she said to herself. She went to her chambers to get a few things.

  While she was hastily packing, she accessed a secret panel under her desk where she kept an emergency requisition for a coach and team of horses. She clutched the paper and threw her good cloak over her arm to hide it. She managed her two bags with her free hand and headed for the stables.

  Chapter 4: Leave-taking

  Lady Shey entered the stables carrying her two bags. She spotted the stable master giving orders to a stable hand hitching up the carriage she planned to requisition. She disliked speaking with the stable master because he smelled of horse and his rotten teeth made his breath horrendous. His slovenly appearance completed his unpleasant presence. After he noticed Lady Shey was near, he advanced toward her, approaching entirely too close to her face.

  She handed him the requisition and held her breath, so she wouldn’t have to smell the barrage she knew was about to come.

  “Do you already have someone in mind as a driver?” the stable master inquired. “I have a few drivers available. I just need to know your requirements.”

  Lady Shey put her two bags in front of her to distance herself from him. “My requirements?”

  “Aye, a solid driver with experience, or a man who can get things done, a sword carrier, perhaps?”

  “You have someone like that?”

  “I do. He’s a bit jumpy. I think he served in a war for some foreign land at one time or another, but he is good with a sword if you need a strong arm.” The stable master rubbed his chin. “He’s a handy man to have around; he even stopped a payroll robbery for me once.”

  “Yes, I require someone like that, please.”

  “I’ll warn you, he isn’t much to look at, but he knows how to get the job done.” The stable master reached down, took Lady Shey’s bags, and tossed them on top of the carriage to be secured.

  “You’ve already sold me on him,” She cleared her throat and wagged her finger toward the rear of the coach. “Uh, I would rather you put those bags in the storage trunk if you don’t mind; I wouldn’t want them to get wet if we run into foul weather.”

  “Oh, sorry, my lady, I forget these royal carriages have trunks strapped to the rear.” He sported a rotten-toothed grin. “Force of habit.” He motioned to the stableman on top of the carriage to toss the bags down to the rear of the coach. “Oh, by the way, I was sorry to hear about the highlord. I heard tell you were fond of him. It might be none of my business, but some say that . . .”

  “You are correct, sir, it is none of your business. However, I assure you the highlord and I were never in amorous relations, or any other relations for that matter, other than the business of the kingdom.”

  “Forgive me, my lady.”

  “You are forgiven. Now, if you’d be so kind as to find the driver you spoke of, I shall be on my way.”

  “Aye, I shall return shortly.”

  Shey froze. How did he know about the highlord so fast? Either h
e knew something, or perhaps news traveled fast. Of course, all the commotion would have many tongues wagging; she conceded that much.

  She nervously waited in the coach for quite a while. As she watched the passersby, she became increasingly anxious and finally decided to find the stable master. She stepped outside of the coach and came face-to-face with a large man carrying a sword and a bow. She was startled by his ominous appearance. She struggled not to stare at the scar over his left eye or his scarred left ear. She focused instead on his jet-black hair, which was in recede.

  “Something wrong, my lady?” he said.

  “Um, no, you startled me, that’s all. I wasn’t expecting to step from the coach into someone.”

  “I’m your driver. Name’s Rodraq.”

  “Nice to meet you, Rodraq. My name is Shey Namear.” She held out her hand, and Rodraq lifted his sword and bow.

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Shey said lowering her hand. “I’ll see myself into the coach.”

  Rodraq nodded and stowed his sword and bow near the driver’s seat of the coach. He hesitated before he climbed onto the seat himself. “Where we headed, my lady?” He said before the door closed.

  She pushed open the door a little more to answer, “Through the Blight to Old Symbor.” She said pulling the door closed. It clanked shut and then popped open again. “I think the latch might be stuck.”

  “Here, let me, my lady.”

  Lady Shey sat back into the luxuriously cushioned seat. “Thank you.”

  “Aye, my lady.” He shut the door behind her and secured the door latch. “We after the high lord’s killers?”

  The hair on the back of her neck pricked up, “Why do you ask?”

  Rodraq shrugged, “You’re leaving the capital. No one else would be allowed to leave under the circumstances.” The coach tilted to the left as he climbed aboard.

  “Let me put it this way, the sooner you get us out of Lux Enor, the better.”

  “Aye, my lady.” He snapped the reins, and the coach lurched.

  “Rodraq.”

  “Aye, what is it, my lady?”

  “We will be stopping to pick up a passenger a few miles south of the city, an elven woman. There is a copse of trees not far from the main road; she’ll be waiting for us there. You can’t miss her.”

  “Is she important to the investigation?”

  “Aye, she is. Forgive me for asking, but where do your loyalties lie, by the way?”

  “I’m with you, my lady, I like seeing justice done; that’s all.”

  “Very well. Pick up the elven woman. She is vital to the investigation.”

  “Aye, my lady. I’ll keep my eyes open for her.”

  THE COACH RODE COMFORTABLY along the rutted streets of Lux Enor. Lady Shey sank back into her padded seat. So, this is how royalty rides, she thought. She had almost allowed herself to fall asleep when Rodraq pulled the reins on the four white horses to stop the coach. A few moments later, she heard the familiar sound of the metal steps and the coach door opened to admit her elven passenger.

  “It’s good to see you—” Shey began.

  “No, my lady, careful with your greeting. I am an unassuming traveling companion. Simply call me Sylvalora, dear. In fact, why don’t you call me Sylvalora until I tell you otherwise.” She winked at Lady Shey.

  “Of course, I understand.” Shey reached out her hand to help Sylvalora take her seat. “But it is good to see you.”

  “And you, my dear. It has been entirely too long since our last meeting.”

  Rodraq peered through the coach door. “On now to Old Symbor, my lady?”

  “Old Symbor?” Sylvalora asked.

  “That would be fine, Rodraq,” Shey said.

  “Aye.” He put the coach in motion once more.

  Shey crossed her hands on her lap, “I hope you’re not easily frightened, Sylvalora. There have been reports coming from The Blight of late. I even went there recently myself and found out a bit more than I bargained for.”

  “I know you're not serious. I’ve never been easily frightened, and I don’t plan to start now. You had best keep any revelations you may have learned to yourself for the time being until I deem it safe for us to converse.”

  “Aye.” Shey clamped her lips closed.

  “Good. Let me know if we run into any patrols of Defenders. I should like to have a word with them.”

  “I’m sure they’ll stop us after we enter The Blight.” Shey heard the sharp crack of the reins, and the coach lumbered forward a bit faster. “So, Sylvalora, I was surprised to get your message.” She tapped her temple. “Does your wanting to join me have anything to do with the highlord’s death?”

  Sylvalora grinned, “I have an interest. I know what you’re getting at, and no, the Silver Drake probably will not be choosing a new highlord anytime soon.”

  “Oh, and why is that?”

  “The Silver Drake is inaccessible at the moment.”

  Lady Shey nodded. “Well, I certainly hope the Silver Drake does a better job of choosing a highlord than it did last time.”

  “Highlord Stowe had his merits.”

  “Aye, and he kept them where no one could find them.”

  “Amusing. No wonder you got along together so well.” She gazed around the coach, “I see you have a royal ride. You must have been in good standing with him indeed.”

  “I must keep up appearances. I am on official business, and the kingdoms respond better to their own. If I pulled up to a palace in a normal, mundane carriage, they wouldn’t even admit me.”

  “It isn’t always the material wealth, my dear, sometimes it’s the richness in the soul of the person.”

  “Well put, but this lavish coach will help, you’ll see. I have dealt with these petty kings and queens before. They understand money and affluence above all else.”

  “If you say so, dear, but remember, sometimes people will surprise you.” She glanced about, “I assume the birds have flown then?”

  “To all the kingdoms by now. They will arrive long before we will. The news will be out soon.”

  “At least we are getting away before anyone has time to question you.”

  “Yes, well,” Shey adjusted herself in her seat to get more comfortable. “How long that will last is yet to be seen. Are you ready for my news?”

  “Hold on a moment,” Sylvalora said. “Let me secure the coach.” She closed her eyes for a moment. A wave of blue flame covered them and sealed the inside of the coach. “All right, we can speak freely now.”

  “The Blight is reawakening, but you already knew this, or you would not be here right now. Am I correct?”

  “You are correct. What else do you know about it? Why are we really going to Old Symbor?” Sylvalora asked.

  “Toborne. When I was an apprentice, he and Morgoran used to experiment with essence and little jade figurines, remember?”

  “I was there. I remember.”

  “The highlord used to keep several of these statuettes on a table near the throne for decoration. After he was assassinated, I noticed they were gone. They were there when I left him for my chambers. The assassins took them. The highlord just liked them because they were intricately carved depictions of elven maidens. He had no idea what they really were, and I liked having them close where I could keep an eye on them.”

  “So, you are hoping to find a clue about them beneath the White Tower?”

  “It was the last place I saw them after Toborne experimented on them. I wonder if there are any more of them left in the basement.” She cleared her throat.

  “Do you think it was Drasmyd Duil who did this to the highlord? If so, who would be able to control them? They can’t think and act on their own someone would have to direct them, dissidents, who have obtained the spells?”

  “No, the highlord’s council had him assassinated. I’m fairly certain of that. Since there was no smell to the supposed Drasmyd Duil, they had to be just an illusion. The council wanted us to believe it was dissid
ents, people unhappy with his rule, but it wasn’t. They got rid of him for their own benefit and continued on.”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions. You need proof.”

  Which is why we are headed to the white tower. I am playing a hunch.”

  “Hunch?”

  “Drasmyd Duil stink, remember? Their smell always gives them a way. I think that their appearance was a clever ruse. The council knew there would be no panic or question of their power after dissidents had the highlord assassinated as long as they were still holding the reins of government.”

  “That’s absurd. What would they have to gain? They already have the power. Besides, they would never have let you leave the capital.”

  “They don’t know I suspect them,” Shey continued. “But I know they did it because those corrupt idiots are under the control of dark forces, forces who want to control the Blight when it comes back. I know their type, and from what I learned from my trip to the Blight, they are trying to smoke out the opposition so they can eliminate it.”

  “What opposition?”

  “The descendants of the Battlefield. The legacy of the First Trine.”

  “But again, that would include you.”

  “I know; now you see why I had to leave Lux Enor.”

  Won’t they notice you are missing and send someone after you.”

  “Not necessarily. They will only send someone after me if they think I’m a threat. I think they will see my escape as merely me being naïve. Lady Shey is running out to investigate a death she has no clue about. If anything, I think me leaving will give them a false sense of security.”

  “I see; they will think you’re running in the wrong direction chasing phantoms.”

  Shey nodded, “Drakkius will think he has the upper hand. He might even send someone out to misdirect me; to keep me occupied and away from Lux Enor and away from the real assassins.”

  “And you are the one who is misdirecting. Where are these descendants?”