by Greg Curtis
“Coming!” She yelled at the door, perhaps a little more brusquely than she should have. People were often saying she had a tendency to snap at them. But as she straightened her clothes and prepared herself for visitors, she didn't care. It was late. Too late for people to come visiting.
Then when she finally walked over to the door and saw who was on the other side of it, she cared even less about her fit of pique.
“Inquisitor?”
She saw the man and couldn't believe he was standing at her door. She was certainly no criminal! But there he was, standing there in his red and gold uniform with a pair of Royal guards flanking him. There could be no denying what the man was. Why he was wearing a smug look also confused her. Perhaps it was just something that went with the job? Still it didn't matter why he was there. She was cousin to the King. Even if she had committed a crime, he would not dare touch her. Not without the King's direct command.
“Dariya Tomkins of Astoria?”
“Dariya Morningstar,” she corrected him automatically. She never used her other names, not least because she didn't know which of them was true. Or that either was true. Was she a Tomkins like her father? Or a Featherstone like her mother? And did she want to be either? One was a murdered lord and cuckold, dead even before she'd grown even into a child. The other was a true monster romantically involved with an even worse one. There was no honour in either. But there were plenty of people who would know those names and gossip about her behind her back if they heard them. Which raised an important question for her – how did he know?
“Miss Morningstar then.” He managed an almost imperceptible nod. “May we come in?”
“Fine!” she sighed. There was no point in leaving them at the door. They'd probably just kick it down in all likelihood. “Make yourselves at home.”
Not that there was really any extra space for them. Her room in the boarding house was small and cramped. There was a bed, a chair and a dresser. Dariya took the chair, leaving the three men standing just inside the doorway, looking out of place and crowding the room. Worse, the room had a low ceiling, so that they had to hunch slightly in order to avoid their heads hitting the rafters.
“I understand you have had contact with the Fae?” The inquisitor began.
“I am a Friend of the Golden Concord. And yes, when my uncle sent his men to raid the Hallows, I gave chase and was there when the last of my uncle’s men were caught. I even shot one of them. Since then I have been speaking with the Fae.” There was no point in denying it she realised.
All this the man should know, she thought. After all she had given her report to the other Friends and they in turn had sent a missive to the King. But even if they hadn't, the Fae's Ambassador to Greenfields should surely have told the same sorry tale to King Richmond. She guessed that he was simply checking stories. Still, there was something deceptive about him. Untrustworthy. this man wasn't looking for the truth – only a suspect.
“So you can confirm that Duke Barnly sent an army into the Hallows?”
“I can confirm that he sent a small one, two maybe three hundred men into the Hallows where they kidnapped perhaps thirty Fae. In doing so the they also murdered sixteen people and injured a great many more. I arrived in time to see the last forty or fifty of his raiders were stopped on the border, and I stood with the Fae when the prisoners they had taken were freed.”
“That is –.”
“Too little and too late,” she snapped tiredly at him. “But it was all I could do. My report has been made to the Order. You may read it as you choose. Now please just stop dancing around the subject and get to the questions you’re here to ask. The sooner they’re asked, the sooner they can be answered and I can go to bed!”
“We need to know why the Fae have come.”
“Because they're angry of course!” How could anyone not understand that, she wondered? “Their Realm was invaded, their people attacked; some were even murdered! Others were kidnapped. Their sacred Glade was violated. And this was all done by people they regarded as peaceful neighbours. I have no doubt they regarded it as a betrayal of the highest order.”
“Perhaps I didn't make myself completely clear.” The Inquisitor shifted his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly. “I meant, why are they doing this, specifically? Building all these Trade Missions across the land?”
“As best as I can tell, they're trying to make a point.” She sighed heavily. “But they haven't shared their innermost thoughts with me or any others of the Friends.”
“Still what they are doing complies completely with the clauses of the Golden Concord.” She had to say that.
“With the letter, perhaps,” the man contradicted her.
“And with the spirit,” she told him. “Six hundred and some years ago the Golden Concord was signed. It was signed by both sides. And it was signed for a very simple reason. Both the Hallows and Grenland had been laid low by the wars. The numbers who had been killed were unknown but there were scarcely any families left that did not know loss. The lands had been torn apart. Cities had been levelled, forests burned. And still there was no end in sight. Everyone had lost.”
“Something had to be done. After centuries of feuding, betrayal and open warfare, peace had to be found anyway it could be. If it wasn't, neither people would survive.”
“So the Concord was signed, peace returned to the world, and both peoples concentrated on rebuilding their lives and their realms. Over time the war became history, and contact between our two peoples ended. That really should have been it. The Friends of the Golden Concord patrolled the border, stories were made up about the monsters that lived on the other side of the trees, and no one was stupid enough to cross it with bad intentions from either side. Few crossed it at all.”
“Unfortunately over the centuries the Friends have grown weak. Those with short memories and few morals like my uncle have grown bold. Now there has been an incursion, and a terrible one. And it was done by no less than the King's own uncle. A Royal. The Fae are making a point. They are reminding Grenland and King Richmond why the Golden Concord was signed in the first place. That as much as the people of Grenland may want to believe that the border protects the Fae from us, it protects us from the Fae as well. If there is to be another war, everyone will lose. Again.”
“I would guess that this will pass and things will return to how they were when the Fae are satisfied that the King is taking this incursion into their land as seriously as they do. When they see justice done.”
And really, when every city in the Realm suddenly had a new Trade Mission arriving on its doorstep complete with soldiers and a small army of riding wolves and eagles, that point was being well made. But it was still madness as far as she was concerned. It could all go horribly wrong very quickly.
“I take it you believe the border should be strengthened? The Friends should grow strong once again?”
“Yes. But even before that there is one other thing that should be done. Castle Alldrake should be levelled and the Duke hung. That more than anything else will settle nerves. It will tell the Fae what they want to hear. That this Realm also takes the Concord seriously and that they believe in justice. And that King Richmond had no part in sending an army into G'lorenvale.” And though she didn't say it, she truly wanted to see her uncle swing as well. In fact she would be happy to pay for a seat among the audience!
“You are certain that this would resolve the issue?”
“No. Of course not. No one can be. It has been six hundred years since anyone from Grenland has spent time in the Hallows. We have no knowledge of what G'lorenvale is like now. But I have spoken with some of the Fae and they seemed very much like us. That is what we would want, so I assume it is what they would want also.”
Nothing was said for a while after that. The Inquisitor remained standing there, presumably weighing what she had said. The guards naturally didn't say anything. It wasn't their place and they knew it. Dariya waited patiently for the inquisit
or’s response. Eventually it came. But it wasn't what she expected.
“The Fae are also recruiting? Hiring wizards?”
“Recruiting those with gifts or just offering support to the gifted as they claim? I don’t know which if either is the truth I’m afraid, or what their plan is.” Sadly that was true, even the Fae had tried to explain what they were doing just a few days past, while they had sat in Baen’s roof garden, sipping tea and eating cakes. Even now she didn't understand the purpose behind it. J'bel and Amaru had said it was simply the continuation of what they had always done. Which was true she supposed. They had always welcomed those with the gift to their home. And that she knew, was true But it wasn't the whole truth.
The wizard didn't know either. She had seen the doubts in his face. Heard his questions. And she knew he didn't completely accept their explanation. But he didn't know the answer. It was hard though, for either of them to see anything nefarious in what the Fae were doing. If only it weren’t so secretive.
But then secretive was a good description for the wizard himself. Baen had shown them his basement, hidden behind a wall of illusion, and it had shocked her. The man had an entire workshop hidden down there where he practised his enchanting! Simply walk through the illusory wall and down the stairs and you soon arrived in a different world. It seemed that when not tending his store he spent a lot of time creating potions, rings, and anything else he might think useful. And then he would store them in an underground warehouse that he had lit using crystal chandeliers that ran off magic. It was like an underground wonderland down there. Even the Fae had been taken aback by the sheer scale of his operation.
For her though, that hadn’t been the greatest surprise. Nor the way he stored his staff on a plinth that stood in the centre of the workshop and let it float six inches above it. That was interesting, for certain, even quite wondrous, but still not the biggest surprise. Instead it had been his means of making money that had truly shocked her.
The wizard had an enchanted printing press that could magically print any book! It even made its own paper from timber. All he had to do was find whatever book he wanted on the shelves of another book store, library or printery, give the commands, and the press would do everything else. No wonder coin wasn't a problem for him. He got his stock for free! Every book he sold was almost pure profit! And the man claimed to just be a simple book seller!
“No thoughts?” The Inquisitor pressed.
“Several actually. For a start they consider magic in all its forms to be a gift from the spirits. One that must be nurtured. It is respected wherever it is found. In whoever is found with it. The Fae have always accepted a few of our people to live with theirs should they have the gift. They call these people thanes or favoured souls and welcome them to their realm. They consider it a duty. This is surely in part that. But I do not doubt that there is more at play.”
“It's also becoming clear that there are many more people with gifts than I had thought. And that their gifts may be more useful than we had previously supposed.” She knew that because after Baen had told them about his family, J'bel had said that being able to speak with the dead was not only a common gift, but was one that was greatly valued by the Fae. It could teach them of the past.
The Fae were dismissive of printed books. They considered them a sign of a poor memory. For them their history could be remembered in song and recorded in painting and sculpture. But being able to speak with the ghosts of those who had passed on long ago was another way of remembering. No sooner had Baen mentioned his grandfather's gift then the pair of them had made plans to speak with him.
Baen himself had agreed to speak with his Aunt Millie who supposedly had the gift to grow plants to enormous sizes. The wizard had said that he would need to be the one to talk to her. He'd said that while his grandfather could at least hold a conversation with them, his aunt would refuse all visitors. She had become a hermit in the middle of the city. That in turn had left her wondering; how many others were out there who had shut themselves away from society because of a gift they might have? Dariya didn't know. But she suspected it was far more than people realised.
“You said several,” the Inquisitor pushed a little more.
“A speculation only. I find myself wondering whether my uncle, for all his diabolical plotting, made a mistake in attacking the Fae. He is of course seeking the power of those with magic and plans to steal it. But if there are many such people with magic in Grenland, why send an army into the Hallows? Their magic may perhaps be far greater. But I fear his intention was always more than to simply steal some magic. Perhaps he had a dual purpose; steal the Fae magic and start a war. Maybe he thought doing so might somehow help him in his efforts to steal the crown once more?”
Dariya didn't know if that was true. She couldn't see how it would profit him to push the realm into war with the Fae. How it would gain him the throne. But she did know that if it did somehow advance his goals, he would put all his efforts into it.
“You think –.”
“– As I said, It's only a speculation. I don't know. I haven't seen my uncle in a great many years. But I remember him as being clever and utterly ruthless when it came to getting what he wanted. And I know for a fact that he wants the throne. Imagine how much closer he would be had the raid succeeded and a war had broken out!”
More than that though, he wanted to take everything that his brother had once had. In the end theirs was an eternal tale of two brothers locked in a seemingly endless battle for their father's favour. It had started with her Uncle Andris – destined to take the throne – and his younger brother Barnly, equally determined to wrest it from him. And when King Andris had died and his son Richmond had ascended, the uncle’s rivalry had extended to his brother’s children. Barnly continued to covet everything that his brother had had, and every trace of his brother gone from the world. That meant not only taking the throne, the castle, the wealth and the realm from his dead brother's hands: It had also meant wiping out the entire Royal Family. And Dariya wasn't blind to the fact that it also meant claiming his sister as his too. Barnly didn't love her mother in any manner no matter how perverted. He never had. His only concern was that she favour him over her other brother. His only thought was to win. And she was some sort of prize, so he'd claimed her.
It was strange how easily that understanding came to her, Dariya thought, but it had never come to her mother. Everything came down to that original battle between the two brothers. Winning it was everything. Even ruling the Kingdom came second to that. Her uncle wanted the throne first and foremost because it had been his brother's. Because of that endless battle the Featherstones were a family constantly at war. But they didn't seem to understand that the true nature of what they were fighting for. Then again, the Featherstones were called mad for a reason.
Her mother was a simple soul. That was the kindest way she could think of her. Simple but beautiful. Her uncle was truly evil, and unfortunately very clever. Her other uncle the late King Andris, had been gifted with both looks and wit, but cursed with a complete lack of common sense. He had gambled, drunk, whored and made foolish mistakes of judgement. His son, King Richmond was said to follow in his footsteps, while his wife ran the realm in his stead. The advisers to the throne had insisted on his marriage and even chosen his wife for him according to the gossip. They needed at least one Royal they could rely upon. Without her King Richmond would have gambled away the entire Realm.
Two brothers and a sister. All of them Royal. Two of them eternally at one another's throats even down through the generations. And not one of them fit to rule!
Perhaps the place for the nobility had had its day? Inbreeding had ruined them, she had often thought. So many of the families seemed to have bumbling uncles and crazed aunts hiding away in their attics. The Featherstones were just an advanced case. It was a miracle she herself remained sane. At least, she hoped she was sane and not in fact fooling herself.
“Is there anything els
e you can tell me, Miss. Morningstar?” The Inquisitor finally broke the silence and jolted her out of her ruminations.
“No. Only that it's late and I'm tired. In the morning I have to start on my ride back to the outpost.”
Now that was going to be a fun ride, on her own. Reginald had already left a couple of days before to inform the Friends of what had transpired at the wizard's house. Baen Walkerton could prove a useful man to know. Whether or not he was a wizard, or even if there were such creatures, he had useful skills and more importantly, a machine that could print any book in existence. That had to include some of the ancient texts from the time of the Golden Concord. Assuming there was an original work still in existence. She'd stayed a little longer to see how things worked out with the Fae in Cedar Heights. But thus far things had remained peaceful and she didn't feel she could justify spending any more time here.
“Nothing about this man Walkerton who the Fae seem to have taken an interest in?”
“The book seller? What about him?” She asked, trying to feign surprise and disinterest, but not sure she was completely convincing.
“The Fae have been seen entering his premises.”
