by Connie Ward
"You may find, Little Red, in the end, it will be either a matter of you betraying Valleri or Valleri betraying you."
"Never,” I declared. “Valleri would never, ever, betray me. He'd sooner die."
* * * *
I was with Sestus in the dungeon, perusing a magic text entitled, ‘Mindspells For the Novice', when Repachea breezed inside, looking mangled and mauled but high on the euphoria of victory. In a manner I hoped was unobtrusive I tucked the grimoire under a pile of maps to retrieve later.
Repachea had not returned to Idyll empty-handed. Reaching into the sack he'd brought, he withdrew a bent tiara, glittering with an array of gemstones, and planted it on my head. “There you go, my girl. Closest we'll get to royalty, I'm afraid. Still, not too shabby, eh?"
He reeled away, pulled another sparkly diadem from the bag to perch it precariously on his own head, then slouched into a chair, well pleased with himself. Tossing a red velvet cap at Sestus, he crowed, “Sestus, you won't believe who I had the good fortune of bumping into on the road south."
Then, launching into his tale with unbridled enthusiasm, Repachea explained how he and his raiders had overtaken the unsuspecting escort to the Earl of Hundley, a staunch supporter of Uncle's yet also a braggart and boor whose company I could have done without several times. Hundley was a noteworthy man for two reasons, the first being the heft of his purse, and the second his prowess in the bedchamber. His escapades there had produced seven daughters, every one a stunning beauty and of marriageable age, both of which had conspired to cause the earl more than one grey hair. Thus, imagine Repachea's surprise and elation when upon opening the gilded carriage, he found within no bearded and pot-bellied earl, but instead three of Hundley's splendid daughters twittering behind their wimples, the commander's reputation apparently having preceded him.
Suffice it to say, the escort put up a vigorous fight but in the end Repachea and his gang looted the baggage wain and made merry with the Earl's happy-to-oblige daughters, now of questionable virtue.
"Charming girls. Simply charming,” he mused with a chuckle. “Bertie's going to have his hands full coaxing old Hundley down from the rafters."
"Well, as long as you had fun,” Ginger droned from the doorway, fresh from his own foray. I waved a greeting at Ragsey, who waved back over the mage's shoulder.
Repachea was immune to that famed Umagi glower. “Oh, hey, Ginger, old boy. Sorry. All out of fancy hats. But I've got a couple of nice bracelets and a gold pisspot if you're interested ... no? Well, your loss. You really need to get out more, my friend."
"I was out. Working."
Ginger placed a special emphasis on that last word, as if implying Repachea was simply out having a lark.
"Oh, now this I've got to hear.” Repachea shrugged at the mage's churlishness and flashed me a knowing grin. I returned it, tickled silly with my souvenir.
"Did you find out what the Royalist patrol is up to?” Sestus asked, massaging his temples with thumb and index finger.
"Not exactly.” Sliding into a chair, Ginger pulled out a deck of divination cards and began shuffling them. “Though we did get close enough to eavesdrop. Information has surfaced proving Castle Gryphon is indeed bereft of her beloved commander."
"Ruvie already told you that."
"She said the Gryphon Highlord was to be married and put out to pasture,” Ginger clarified. “But the marriage never took place. It seems neither holy wedlock nor retirement appealed to her. Instead, she opted to escape."
Uh, oh. Either Uncle is not as good at keeping secrets as I'd hoped, or Castle Gryphon is rife with spies.
"Escape?” Sestus echoed with a credible inflection of surprise. “How did she manage that?"
"Not very well. She's dead."
"Dead?"
"Stop repeating everything I say,” Ginger chided. “According to our informants she fled the castle on the eve of her nuptials. A patrol was dispatched to fetch her back, but when they picked up her trail they found her murdered."
"Murdered?” Sestus gasped, ignoring Ginger's previous remark. “By whom?"
"The castle claims we found her first and killed her."
"But ... but ... that's ludicrous!"
"Of course it is. You and I both know that patrol executed her, acting on Bertrand's orders. She played right into his hand. When she fled the castle it gave the Regent an opportunity to kill her and blame it on us. The whole sordid affair hasn't made us any friends. A good portion of Thylana's citizenry remains loyal to the Princess Kathedra."
"Are you sure she's dead?"
Ginger nodded. “The patrol, including a few casualties, returned with her helm, her horse, her sword, and her body—what was left of it. She must have put up a hell of a fight. She was bludgeoned almost beyond recognition. But they were able to identify her as Kathedra."
A body? How in the world had Averi managed that? I risked a glance at Sestus. His expression was neutral but his jaw had clenched, and I could see he pondered some deep thought.
"I'm sorry, Sestus,” Repachea said with genuine sympathy. “We all know how fond you were of the princess as a little girl."
Sestus shook off the words. “Do you know who identified the body?"
"Who else? Her second-in-command. After all, he was her lover."
What? Did everyone know? Poor Val. He must be beside himself with grief. Averi must have done some ghastly work on that woman he murdered to fool Valleri.
"That's not the half of it.” Ginger paused, turning to look directly at me. “You might find this of interest, precious. I've learned who's replaced the Gryphon Highlord. He led that patrol we encountered."
"Who?” I tried not to appear too eager, praying it wasn't that prig Urharde.
Ginger shot Sestus a triumphant look. “Her second-in-command. Valleri."
Val? I couldn't believe it. My own lover had replaced me? Sweet, loyal Valleri had taken my command? Impossible!
"That's interesting ... considering he's not of royal stock."
"Isn't it?” Ginger's gloating grin was ear-to-ear. “Not only that, but Bertrand named him his heir."
His heir? I shuddered. Everything was falling into place just as Sestus had predicted.
Repachea sniped, “Ouch! I bet that hurt old Bertie."
"What does that suggest to you?"
Sestus shrugged in response to Ginger's question, taking pains to avoid my gaze. “It seems a logical choice. After all, Valleri is next in command."
Ginger shook his head, impatient once more. “It suggests rather he was in league with Bertrand."
"What are you saying? I can't believe Valleri would plot against his own commander."
Nor can I. This little fable grew more fascinating by the minute.
"It's quite believable once you stop to think about it. Bertrand noticed his niece's powers had grown and decided to hobble her before she challenged him for the throne. But he needed help, so he approached Valleri. In return, he offered him the title of heir. How could the man refuse? Valleri pretended to be Kathedra's devoted lover, gaining her confidence, her trust, then betrayed her to her very own uncle. Ohh, they were a subtle pair."
"Valleri hates Bertrand,” Sestus huffed. “I can't understand why he would help him to do anything, let alone murder Kathedra."
"Honestly, Sestus, it's so simple a child could grasp it,” Repachea chimed in. “The throne. With Kathedra dead, Valleri has only to kill Bertrand and the throne will be his. He's a diabolical genius. He's gotten rid of his biggest rival and he's a footstep away from plunging a knife through Bertrand's black heart. I almost like the man."
"Bertrand is not stupid,” Sestus pointed out. “He is not blind. Surely he must suspect Valleri of ulterior motives. So if he suspects, why would he name the man his heir?"
"Bertrand may not suspect. Has not Valleri just proven his loyalty by betraying Kathedra?"
Silence descended as Ginger's question dangled in the air. Sestus's face grew grave, his eyes filli
ng with resignation. “I see what you mean."
I couldn't believe Sestus was actually buying this rubbish. How could Ginger make up such terrible lies about Valleri? They had to be lies. Val is not the devious, ruthless fiend Ginger would have us believe. Or ... is he? A swift, angry thought nearly got the best of me. As if in answer, a menacing rumble of thunder reverberated down from the surface.
Ragsey opined, “Sounds like a storm's brewing."
"A storm indeed,” Repachea mused. “When do you think Valleri will strike?"
"Hard to say,” Ginger replied. “He's still got some work ahead of him. First he'll try to woo the Royals to his standard while he simultaneously undermines Bertrand's Halberdiers. He's far cannier, far more dangerous, than anyone's ever suspected. He'll prove to be just as charismatic, just as seductive, as his predecessor. Gryphon's Royals will flock to his banner. Once that's accomplished, he'll slay Bertrand and take the glory. All Thylana will call him a hero. With the Princess Kathedra dead, Thylana will accept Valleri as its rightful king."
"Really, Ginger? Would it be so bad with Valleri on the throne?"
The mage fixed Repachea in a fierce glower. “Personally, I don't care who sits on Thylana's throne as long as it's not Bertrand or his kin. But know this: Bertrand's death won't end the revolt. Valleri won't compromise. He's too proud, too greedy, to give up absolute power once he wrests it for himself. Considering the lengths he has gone to in order to get it, he will go even further to keep it. We must move soon if we hope to accomplish our objectives before he achieves his."
Fanning out the deck on the worktable, the mage motioned me to pick a card. I flipped one over ... and had to bit my tongue in order to stifle a yelp of surprise. I had drawn the queen of swords, which could be interpreted to represent Ginger's enemy, therefore me, but with subtle, sinister differences. In any card deck I've ever seen, the queen of swords carries, well, a sword, and she glares out from the background with a clear, cold-eyed gaze. But this card showed her blindfolded, with hands bound behind her back. The figure from the mage's deck had been altered, whether by magic or some other unknown mystical force, I don't know.
"A good sign, Sestus. A very good sign.” Leaving the cards spread before us Ginger got to his feet, grinning his cruellest grin. “But the Gryphon Highlord's premature death is a terrible shame. I had so looked forward to seeing her again."
Sestus watched the mage stalk out the door. Frowning, he asked no one in particular, “What's he talking about?"
"He's met the Gryphon Highlord before,” Repachea muttered.
Really? What utter fantasy.
"Or do you forget, sir?” Ragsey added. “She routed him at Laurelac."
Laurelac? A bolt of revelation struck me. Laurelac. Ragsey was right. I had indeed encountered the wizard before.
I remembered Ginger now. The Crusaders had launched a daring attack on that harbour town, hoping to disturb the river trade and annoy Uncle at the same time. My Royal chased them out. But during a pivotal moment in the struggle, I eagerly spurred my mount up a nearby hill for a better overview of the situation, outdistancing my standard-bearer. Apparently, the Crusader captain had the same idea. We crested the knoll almost simultaneously from opposite slopes and nearly collided.
Startled, we reined in and stared at each other over the ears of our chargers from not ten feet away. The skirmish waged on below while we sat frozen, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Ginger gave no evidence he was a mage, but I felt his hatred. It hit my brain like a physical force. Though partially hidden by his helm his face was grim, streaked with sweat and grit. He held a sword while mine lay snug in its scabbard. Strangely enough, I felt no fear, no rage, no inclination at all to summon my Teki powers. Only surprise and a detached curiosity. My thoughts flowed serene. He had the advantage over me and yet he hesitated. I sensed his fury dissipate, replaced by something I can only call wonder.
But below his ragtag collection of Crusaders had begun to collapse, their courage faltering as Valleri pressed them fearlessly. The outlaw leader had to make a decision, either to waste precious time battling me or try rallying his survivors and beat a hasty retreat.
In the end he flipped me a mock salute, slammed down his visor and drove his charger back down the hill.
At the time, I'd assumed he was merely another Crusader commander. I had not known a wizard, a mad and near omnipotent wizard, held an officer's rank. It seemed miraculous we should meet again and yet not know it was not the first time.
A shiver slithered down my spine. Such an occurrence reminded me just how much of my disguise relied upon luck. I had worn light battle armour—a mail shirt, a blue surcoat emblazoned with the gold gryphon of Thylana, a cloak, and a helm. Ginger could see nothing of me save my eyes, nor could he recognize my voice since I had not spoken. There was no possible way he could connect me with the woman atop that warhorse.
Nevertheless, I remained in a precarious position. It would be next to impossible to persuade Ginger I did not deserve the same fate he intended for Uncle. His ego would not permit him to forget the defeat at Laurelac. He had a personal grudge to settle not only against the Regent, but the Gryphon Highlord as well.
I waited until both Repachea and Ragsey had gone, before retrieving the queen with trembling fingers. Sestus tried to reassure me. “It's just a card trick, Little Red. Ginger does them all the time. It doesn't mean anything."
"No? I think it means the threat to him, or what he perceives as a threat, no longer exists. That means I no longer exist, as the future queen, as the Gryphon Highlord."
"I really think you're reading too much into it."
"Yeah.” I returned the card to the deck. “Maybe."
* * * *
That night I spent hours walking around the shattered skeleton of the castle in an effort to soothe my rattled nerves. I needed to be alone, away from Sestus and the mage, so I might sort my thoughts and sift the truth out of Ginger's garbled information. I had little in the way of success, but if nothing else the peaceful evening air helped restore my equilibrium. When I returned to my quarters around midnight, Sestus awaited me.
"Where have you been?” he growled.
"Just out for a stroll.” I threw off my cloak and collapsed into Repachea's far too comfortable chair. “I wanted some time alone to think."
"I don't suppose I have to guess who it is you were thinking about?"
"Ginger is wrong about Valleri."
"Wrong? The man conspired against you, stole your command and usurped your position as heir to the throne. How can Ginger possibly be wrong?"
I sighed. “Ginger has an over-active imagination. He has distorted and manipulated the facts to serve his own ends. Whatever Valleri has done, he has done so in my best interest. I will not entertain the notion he has ulterior motives."
"How can you defend the man after all he's done?"
Ginger was a lunatic, Sestus too, if he believed the mage's mad delusion. The explanation was really very simple once I'd given it due consideration. “First of all, Valleri did not conspire against me. He helped me escape, remember? Nor did he steal my command. Uncle gave it to him because he is the most qualified person for the position. Lastly, Val was named heir for lack of anyone else. Everything has fallen into place according to his plan."
"Plan? Which plan would that be?"
"The one that will resurrect me to my throne."
"Resurrect you?” Sestus laughed, a high, giddy sound. “Valleri didn't help you escape. He led you right into what was supposed to be your death."
"But I didn't die."
"Partly due to my intervention,” he snorted, “in case you forget."
"Maybe, maybe not. Haven't you asked yourself why Averi substituted my body?"
"Because he failed to carry out Bertrand's order of execution and needed to cover his tracks."
"Not exactly. Averi had orders to return me to the castle, had the authority to kill me if I resisted, yet he implied otherwi
se. Therefore it's possible he received counterorders. Counterorders from Valleri. Val substituted my body, not Averi, by which to convince Uncle I was really dead, otherwise he would have ordered the hunt continued until I was found."
Sestus was quiet a long moment, unable to make sense of this particular riddle. “You think Valleri located a look-a-like for you and murdered her? Is Valleri capable of such an act?"
"Oh, yes.” I remembered the slain woman's blood in Valleri's hair, which he'd overlooked when he'd washed and changed clothes that night of my escape.
When Sestus made no reply I continued, “Valleri probably thinks I'm on my way to Zigores by now, ignorant of the fact I'm trapped in a Crusader stronghold. He should have known better than to trust Averi. It's safe to assume Valleri doesn't know what liberties Averi took with those counterorders. Val's made some errors in judgment, Sestus, that I'll concede. But he did what he thought necessary in order to help me. He's in the best possible position to protect my throne."
I did not reveal it to Sestus, but I was furious with Valleri. Small things that would have alerted me to his plot I had ignored, such as his insistence I take my white charger, so Averi would not lose sight of me, and his adamant refusal to flee with me. Val had been right not to divulge the full extent of my escape plan, for I would never have agreed to it. I would not have sanctioned the murder of that poor girl whose misfortune it was to bear a resemblance to me, nor would I have allowed him to enlist Averi's aid for fear of his treachery. But I suppose to Valleri, who was desperate to see me safe from Uncle, he had no alternative.
"I think maybe we should tell Ginger about you,” Sestus said.
I stared at him in disbelief.
"If Castle Gryphon believes you're dead, you've become a valuable asset to us. I think in light of that, Ginger would be willing to set aside his personal vendetta for the chance to use you against Bertrand."
"He'll use me against Valleri,” I protested. “That's where Ginger sees the true threat. Once I've served his purpose he'll discard me or worse. I'll be a weapon for his cause, true. But I'll still be his prisoner, and that means he'll see to it I never gain my throne."
