by Phil Stern
“Where were you?” Tenen growled, roughly taking her hand.
“Nowhere,” she primly replied, pulling away and daintily leading him to the head table.
“The King was worried you’d run off!” he snarled, uncomfortably taking his place next to her. “He was about to send the Royal Guard after you!”
“Like he did my mother!” she hissed back, all while maintaining a happy smile for the crowd. “Well, our good King will have to send the Guard for me on our wedding day, my dear Prince Tenen! For I have no plans on joining you on any alter, lest I be in chains!”
“We’ll see about that,” Tenen mumbled, angrily snapping out his napkin, the silverware contained within tumbling down to his plate with an ugly clank.
Somehow she maintained a relatively pleasant air throughout dinner, even managing to smile and wave when the King announced her betrothal to Tenen. Actually, it was all rather silly, this celebration of a union that would never take place.
For Lydia knew she would never see her wedding day in Brenlaw, no matter what pressure was brought to bear. Anson would find a way for them both to escape.
How, she wasn’t yet sure. But escape they would.
***
A full hour after the dinner began, Perno finally wandered back to the festival tent. Though personally witnessing Lydia enter the forest bordering the fields, she’d then seemingly disappeared.
With difficulty he’d initially traced Lydia’s unusually subtle emanations through the trees, her power signature finally fading away entirely. Traditional tracking methods led him only to a log beneath a large tree, where the trail went cold. Presumably the princess had rested on the log, but where she’d gone from there was a mystery.
All the more so now, seeing Lydia back at the royal table, sitting a mere two seats from the monarch himself.
How had this teenage girl eluded the powerful and skilled Network chief, circling back here to leave him foolishly tramping about in the underbrush? Much more experienced telepaths, with talents better suited for evasion, had been unable to shake him in similar circumstances.
Which raised an interesting question. Like her mother, could Lydia possess some powerful ability of which they were yet unaware? That would put matters in a whole new perspective.
Grimly, Perno determined to get to the bottom of the matter. His own life, and the very future of the Kingdom itself, might well depend on it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WITH HER MOTHER’S DISAPPEARANCE, Lydia no longer qualified to remain in their large royal apartment by herself. Thus, two days after the engagement was officially announced, she and her three cats moved into smaller quarters, with Belle as her new apartment-mate. This was to be home for the next fourteen months, until her eighteenth birthday and supposed wedding day.
“Do you know what I heard?” Belle asked one night about a week later, sitting in their shared living room. “About the princes, I mean?”
By “princes,” Belle was referring to Tenen and three close buddies who did nothing but carouse and drink at all hours of the day and night.
Lydia sighed. “What now?”
Eagerly, the blonde princess sat forward. “I heard they invited ten commoner girls out to some house in town! They had musicians and jesters, all of whom were sworn to strict silence! They ate and drank all weekend!” Primly, Belle now looked away. “Among other activities, I hear.”
“That’s nice,” Lydia absently replied, continuing to work on her latest sketch.
“Lydia!” Clearly annoyed, Belle slapped her armrest. “Did you not attend what I just said? Your betrothed is...is...well, he’s cavorting all around the Kingdom without you!”
“Uh huh.”
“Are you not concerned?”
“Belle.” Firmly putting down the sketching pencil, Lydia turned to face her friend. “The good Prince Tenen can cavort, as you say, with whomever he likes. I don’t care in the slightest.”
“Oh.” Eyeing her friend carefully, Belle smirked. “I guess that means the two of you, um, are not...”
“No!” Nearly shuddering at the thought, Lydia turned back to her drawing. “No, dear, we are not.”
“Hmmm.” Belle thought a moment. “Are you going to have him over to dinner? After all, he is to be your husband.”
“Nope.” Lydia slowly shook her head. “No dinner.”
“You know,” Belle carefully began. “If you think it inappropriate to dine with him alone, we could have a double date. Why, Prince Warten asked me the other day...”
“Belle!” Groaning, Lydia turned back around once more. “Enough! I don’t want any dates, or double dates, or anything else. All right?”
“But Lydia, you are engaged.” Genuinely puzzled, Belle raised an eyebrow. “How long can you just ignore Tenen completely?”
It wasn’t an entirely unreasonable question. She’d have to give it some thought. “You’re right, Belle. I just need time to let it all sink in, that’s all.”
“That’s all right. I get it.” Smiling, Belle nodded at a chess board on the side table. “Up for a game?”
“No, I want to take a walk.” Standing, Lydia strode toward the door. “Get some air.”
“Checking up on the boys, maybe?”
“Goodbye, Belle!” Lydia cheerily called over her shoulder. “I’ll be back later.”
“Have a nice walk,” Belle giggled.
Strolling down to the courtyard, Lydia looked up at the bright stars, both moons high in the sky. If she wished, the party house that Tenen and the boys had set up was a mere fifteen minute walk into town. Maybe she should check it out, if for no other reason than to irritate Tenen.
But her thoughts were actually much more distant, far to the north of the capital city. She wondered what Anson’s home village of Hylen was like at this hour, and whether she would ever see it for herself.
Off to one side of the courtyard were the royal stables, with a single guard by the front door. Crossing over, she bid him good evening.
“My Lady.” Touching his cap, the man nodded. “What brings you out this fine evening?”
“Oh, nothing much. I just thought I might say hi to the Stallions.”
“By all means, my Lady.” Of course, everyone knew of her special affinity for the animal kingdom. “I’m sure they’d enjoy your company. Especially Xander.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“He just wandered back here this evening,” the man explained. “Don’t know where he went. That horse has always been a wild one. Thought he was gone for good this time.”
“Really?” Carefully suppressing a surge of excitement, she thought of her mother riding off on a Stallion the week before. “Well, I’ll have to see him then!”
Closing the stable door behind her, Lydia quickly found Xander munching happily on some fresh oats. Stroking his pretty flank, the great horse told her all about her mother’s flight, clearly picturing her safe house far into the countryside. As luck would have it, Aprina’s cabin was in a village not far from Hylen.
Giving the equine a huge hug, the brunette princess quickly said hello to the other horses, then went back up to her apartment. Chatting some more with Belle late into the night, she then went quietly to bed.
Getting up early the next morning, she wrote out a short note. Calling Percival the pigeon to her window, the paper scrap was soon wrapped tightly around his tiny leg, winging its way off to Anson.
***
Later on that afternoon, working out in the fields, Anson stopped for a cold drink of water. It was growing late in the season, and with all the time wasted in Brenlaw and the Outlands, the crops needed immediate harvesting. Already it had been a dry season, the corn and wheat sometimes brittle to the touch.
It was brutal work, with the late summer sun mercilessly beating down on the arid land. Yet Anson had turned to it with a gusto surprising all their neighbors, the more so since their own menfolk had come back to Hylen generally scarred and worn down by the Karden campaig
n. Within a short while most of their family farm had been cleared, the crops neatly placed for consumption and sale.
In fact, upon his return four days before, Anson’s mother had immediately noticed the change in her only son. Eating dinner that first night, she’d carefully asked him how things had gone.
“Fine.”
“Did you...” Trailing off, she let out a deep breath. “I mean, were there any problems?”
Not really, Anson thought, unless you counted discovery by the Network, battling two separate Demons, and a promise to extract a royal princess from the castle. “Everything went fine, Mom. No problems.”
“Oh.” Miserably, she looked down into her lap. “That’s good, dear.”
Groaning, he looked across the small table at her. “Mom, stop it! I’m a grown man now. I’ve been on campaign. You don’t have to worry about me like that anymore.”
“I know, but I’m your mother.” Smiling, she reached out and tussled his hair. “It’s just a hard habit to break, that’s all.”
Now, watching him from the relative comfort of their small house, tirelessly clearing the fields, she realized her son was indeed different. In some intangible fashion he’d almost instantly matured, a far cry from the shy teenage boy she’d conveyed to Brenlaw such a short time ago. Obviously, it was more than just his first military foray. Something had changed inside her son, but exactly what, she had no idea.
As Anson’s mother was about to step away from the window, she saw a pigeon land on the small wagon piled high with freshly cut corn, cooing urgently. Contemplating the bird a moment, Anson leaned over and took a paper from its leg, reading it carefully. Then, giving the pigeon some water and patting its head, Anson wrote out a reply, attaching the scrap to the bird once more. The pigeon promptly flew off, heading southward.
Her son then returned to work, as if nothing extraordinary had just occurred.
That evening, over dinner, Anson casually announced he needed to take a trip the following day, to visit a friend from the army who needed help.
“We’re well ahead on the crops, Mom,” he observed. “I’ll finish it up in a few days.”
“Sure. No problem.” Pausing a moment, she only smiled. “I’ll see you when you get back.”
Early the next day Anson struck out on foot, heading for the village of Yarlee in the next district.
***
A few hours later Prince Tenen startled awake, the ceiling drifting in and out of focus. Groaning, he painfully extricated his arm from underneath the girl sleeping to his right, it having gone completely numb from lack of blood.
“Oh, his Lordship is up, it seems?” Giggling, a second girl on his left snuggled closer. “After all that wine, I wasn’t sure you’d be among the awake before supper time!”
“How...how much did I have?” Tenen somehow mumbled, rolling over her to sit on the bed’s edge, throbbing head now held in his hands.
“We lost count, my Lord,” she primly observed. “You were completely mad with drink, though. Prince Warten tried to take a bottle away from you, but you singed his arm instead. Rather nasty, you were.”
Pulling on a robe, he gingerly wandered out into the living room, the previous night’s frivolity still on stark display. Princes and commoner girls lay all about in various states of undress, amidst bottles, wine glasses, and half-eaten food. Even one of the musicians slumbered peacefully in the corner, guitar clutched tightly to his chest.
Popping several pills to help clear his hangover, Tenen collapsed back in bed between the two girls. The one who’d slept on his arm now stroked his cheek.
“And what does your Lordship have planned for today?” she asked.
“A trip.” Though still tender, the drugs were already calming his throbbing head.
“Where, my Lord?”
“Hylen. A village to the north of here.”
The second girl screwed up her face. “What might be there, my Lord?”
“Someone,” he cryptically replied.
“Someone important?” the first girl prodded.
“Yes, actually.” Tenen put his arms around both young women, pulling them close. “Though he doesn’t know it yet.”
“By the King,” the second girl giggled, head on his chest. “Does Princess Lydia know what her prince has been doing all weekend?”
“Oh, I hope she does.” Eyes narrowing, Tenen once more stared at the ceiling. “I most certainly hope she does.”
***
Arriving in Yarlee near mid-day, Anson slowly rode down the main thoroughfare. It was a larger town than Hylen, with two general stores, several taverns, and a small marketplace.
Hitching his horse near the center area, Anson ambled about, stretching his sensitivity to its utmost. He dared not ask around concerning Aprina’s whereabouts, lest he draw unwanted attention to either of them. If he didn’t locate Lydia’s mother on this trip, he might have to come back some evening and search the outer areas. Maybe Lydia could even come herself on the Stallion that...
Wait! There, on the very edge of his perception, he sensed a powerful, muted telepath.
Meandering back to his horse, Anson slowly adjusted the saddle, trying to get a better fix on his target. It was definitely a female presence, now close by. Another walk through town might help him pinpoint her location more exactly.
Not three minutes later, absently studying a saloon, Anson felt a definite surge of power. Casually turning about, he saw a tall, brunette woman walk out of one of the general stores, carrying a small basket of fruit. She was dressed as any Yarlee native might be, with a long skirt, simple shoes, and a rough blouse.
Staying a safe distance behind, Anson followed her a few blocks farther down the street. When she stopped to window shop he would pause himself, idly staring into the various storefronts.
Abruptly, though, the woman he presumed to be Princess Aprina made a sharp left, disappearing from view. Hurrying forward, he found a narrow, empty alleyway between two buildings.
Where had she gone? Moving quickly into the alleyway, Anson looked for a doorway into either building. She was still nearby, that he could sense, but exactly where he couldn’t...
Without warning, Anson found himself flat on his stomach, head spinning. The sharp point of a knife was pressed into the back of his neck.
“Don’t move,” a woman muttered into his ear, weight pressing him down into the ground. “I can kill you before any power you have could take effect.”
“Indeed,” Anson mumbled. Only now did his inner clarion sing out, way after its warning could help him. “But I’m not here to hurt you.”
Aprina painfully crunched her knee into Anson’s spine. “Sure you’re not.”
“No, really. Your daughter Lydia sent me to find you.”
“Lydia?” The knife pressed even deeper, on the very edge of breaking his skin. “You’re lying! You’re a Demon sent to kill me.”
“No!” Mouth pressed into the dirt, Anson weakly coughed. “Your horse! It told Lydia where to find you. And she sent me.”
There was a moment’s pause. Abruptly releasing Anson, Aprina then spun him over, now pressing her knife against the front of his throat. “And who are you? How do you know my daughter?”
“Anson! My name is Anson.” Breathing heavily, he felt the cold steel against his bare skin. “I was a recruit, in the army. Lydia sensed me, found out who I was.”
“Really?” Aprina considered. “And just who are you?”
“A telepath, but I grew up in the villages. Not far from here. I have power, as you can sense.”
Frowning, Aprina studied him more closely, then stared right into his eyes. There was a surge of power, and then a calming, soothing state of utter equanimity. It was as if she was entering his very mind, sharing his soul.
“Tell me the truth, Anson,” she said. Pulling the knife away, Aprina then sat up, pushing her hair aside in the exact same fashion as her daughter. “Everything.”
And under her compulsi
on, that’s exactly what he did. Even if he’d wanted to, there was no way Anson could resist. Skimming over his childhood, the empowered youth described coming to the castle and his escape from the sleep-Demon, the battle with Senter in the Outlands, and then his subsequent meeting with Lydia.
“What insanity is this?” Aprina demanded once he’d finished. “You would put her life in danger with this crazy idea of escaping the Kingdom?”
“My Lady,” he breathed. “Lydia has been betrothed by the King. To Prince Tenen.”
“What!” Stunned, she sat back. “No, it can’t be.”
“It is, my Lady,” Anson gasped. “She cannot stay at the castle for long! At least, not without your protection.”
“Wait. Let me think on this a moment.” Standing, Aprina paced away several feet, absently staring down the alleyway.
Slowly sitting up, Anson felt her coercion draining away, his mind fully becoming his own again. “You are very powerful, my Lady.”
She looked back over her shoulder. “Not powerful enough, if my only daughter could be forced to marry that cruel young man.”
“But not for another year. We have time.” Now standing, Anson picked up her basket of fruit. “However, my Lady, we mustn’t stay here. Someone might come by.”
“Yes, you’re quite right. Come along.” Pushing Anson down the alleyway, they came out behind two buildings. Silently walking into the forest beyond, they stopped a quarter-mile in, between several large trees.
“We should be safe enough here.” Sitting on a log, Aprina now studied him more closely. “So you are the young man from my daughter’s sketch.”
“I’ve never seen any sketch, my Lady.” Settling down on a large rock, Anson smiled. “But we do share a connection. In fact, I’ve never met anyone like her.”
