by Phil Stern
Yes, the girl must be eliminated, Perno thought. But only after leading him to her outlaw mother.
***
As they stood from the table at the banquet’s conclusion, Tenen touched Anson’s arm. “Why don’t you come out with us tonight? There’s a place we all go to have drinks and relax in town. I think you’d enjoy yourself.”
“Yes!” added Verlith. “Do come, Anson. We’ll have fun!”
Noticeably stiffening, Lydia stalked off without another word, followed closely by Belle.
“Don’t mind them, Anson.” Clearly, Tenen was pleased at his betrothed’s reaction. “The royal girls don’t always approve of our recreational pursuits.”
“Stuck up, is what they are,” added Verlith.
“I do appreciate it, my Lord.” Anson firmly held off Lydia’s mental anger, broadcast loudly enough for every royal in the room to enjoy. “But I have to inspect the castle guard at first light.”
“Well, duty first,” Tenen agreed. “Some other time, then.”
“Yes, Anson.” Giving his arm a tight squeeze, Verlith giggled once more. “Definitely another time.”
***
That night Tenen laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, girls sprawled out on either side.
Being from a small farming town, Anson was unused to the big city. No doubt the need to hide himself over the years might also make him unduly shy.
Still, it wouldn’t do for his new sergeant to hold himself above his Lord’s ways. Tenen would have to make a point of inculcating Anson into the full ebb and flow of castle life, enjoying all the benefits his position had to offer.
***
A week later, as dawn was just breaking over the eastern horizon, Lydia found herself in the royal stables moodily combing Xander’s wonderful mane.
By now the novelty of having Anson nearby had worn very thin. In fact, sensing her love close by, yet knowing he was within Tenen’s detestable influence, was becoming a great strain. On two occasions she’d actually seen Anson accompanying the princes and their girls about town, including that awful Verlith, who’d been his date at the party.
Though at first dismissing such ideas out of hand, a terrible thought began tugging at her consciousness. Perhaps Anson was finding the temptations of castle life more alluring than their fledgling bond? The good Prince Tenen, she knew, caroused almost nightly at his party house in town. Surely Anson hadn’t allowed himself to become involved in such things. Had he?
Hesitantly, Xander said she was pulling too hard on his hair. Taking a deep breath, she promised to be more careful.
Ten minutes later, as she moved on to braid his tail, someone opened the stable’s rear door and slipped inside. An instant later Anson’s warm aura suffused the entire building.
Gasping, she dropped the comb, rushing out of the stall and down the center aisle to throw herself into his arms.
“Anson! My love!” Burying her head in his neck, she then kissed him, fervently, on the lips. “I thought you were gone!”
“Gone?” Laughing, he kissed back. “Where did you think I’d gone?”
“Well...you know, I just...”
They spent a few minutes catching up, Anson immediately understanding her concern.
“No, my love,” Anson smiled. “I have been true to you, never fear.”
“Of course.” Blushing, Lydia looked down. “I never doubted it.”
“But come, we have little time.” Once more dressed as a commoner, Anson indicated the rear door, from which he’d entered. “Send one of the Stallions into the woods, a quarter-mile from here. We’ll meet there in a half-hour’s time, and then off to see your mother.”
Dashing up to her room for a warmer coat, Lydia then struck off into the nearby forest, unerringly sensing Anson and Xander nearby. Five minutes later they were both atop the Stallion, her arms wrapped around her love as they cantered off toward Yarlee.
“We could just fly, you know.” Lydia spoke directly into his ear, the wind whipping her dark hair straight back.
“That might attract some attention,” Anson laughed. “As it is, we need to keep this Stallion on the back roads.”
Thundering through the country at almost unbelievable speeds, they soon arrived on the outskirts of Yarlee, Xander taking them unerringly to Aprina’s home.
Before the Stallion could even come to a halt, Lydia was flying off his back. Jumping into her mother’s arms, Lydia and Aprina hugged and cried for several minutes. By the time Lydia finally extricated herself, Anson had removed Xander’s saddle and reins, hiding both horse and tack behind Aprina’s cottage.
Soon they were all inside, sitting around the small kitchen table sipping tea.
“Mother, I’m so sorry this has all happened,” Lydia began. “I wish you could come home.”
“So do I, dear.” Smiling, Aprina took her hand. “I’m just glad no harm has befallen you.”
“I’m okay.”
“And what of Prince Tenen?” Aprina gently prodded. “How are things going?”
“He...he annoys me much of the time,” Lydia conceded. “But just knowing Anson’s nearby helps so much!” Touching his arm beside her, Anson’s shirt began glowing a warm shade of blue.
“Well now.” Pausing, Aprina took a sip of tea. “You two seem very close.”
“I feel so much with Anson!” As if puzzled herself, Lydia turned back to her mother. “I’ve never had this kind of connection before.”
Fleetingly, Aprina thought back to her own youthful experiences with Lydia’s father, the intensity of that first emotional, cognitive link. “This all must be overwhelming for you both.”
“I’ve always dreamed of meeting someone like Lydia,” Anson acknowledged. “I just never thought it possible.”
“Well, just take it slow,” Aprina advised. “Truly being in love with another telepath is a very powerful thing.”
“So all the royals who get married aren’t really in love?” Lydia asked.
“No, dear.” Aprina looked away. “Many of them are in arranged situations. Like what the King would impose on you and Tenen.”
“About that.” Leaning forward, Anson took Lydia’s hand in his own. “Have you been able to discover more about that other world? The one beyond the Outlands?”
“No, not much,” Aprina admitted. “All anyone seems to know is that there is someplace else.”
“Another Kingdom?” Lydia offered.
“More than just that,” her mother continued. “Like I told Anson before, many people say humans first came to the Kingdom from that other world. It’s bigger, and more advanced. Like our world in some ways, but very different in others.”
“Is it a good place to go?” Lydia frowned. “Would we be happy?”
“And how exactly do we get there?” Anson finished his tea, slowly replacing the cup in its saucer. “Even if we could safely cross the Outlands, is there some path we traverse? Landmarks to look for? How would we even know...”
“I don’t know the answers to any of this,” Aprina interjected. “I wish I did. What little we do know is more rumor than fact.”
“So...what should we do?” Eyes wide, Lydia tried to hold back her growing fear. “Is it something we should attempt?”
“Lydia, I don’t think you have any choice.” Aprina sighed. “They will force you to marry Tenen if you remain.”
“But if we stay here, with you...” Lydia began.
“They will eventually find us all,” her mother concluded. “And kill you both.”
“But...you’re here.” Helplessly, Lydia looked around the small cottage. “And you’ve remained hidden.”
“Princess Aprina has stature in the royal family. Her escape was almost a boon for the King,” Anson explained. “Had she stayed, His Majesty would have been forced to punish her in some way.”
“I’m sure the King is still very angry, but upon reflection, I think Anson’s correct. No doubt the Network is seeking me out, but the Royal Guard, and the King’
s army, remain in Brenlaw.” Shaking her head, Aprina once more took her daughter’s hand. “But if you, a young girl, were to defy our monarch, spurn Tenen, and strike out on your own with a commoner like Anson...”
“The whole Kingdom would be turned upside down looking for you,” Anson finished. “And me as well.”
Lydia thought on that a moment. “So it’s marry Tenen, or escape through the Outlands.”
“That’s about the size of it.” Sadly, Aprina nodded.
“Then we go.” Once more, Lydia took Anson’s hand. “Together.”
Before leaving Aprina’s cottage for the castle again, they agreed to flee the Kingdom in two weeks. That would allow time to gather supplies and plan a firm route, as well giving Anson’s mother opportunity to make her way to Yarlee. Princess Aprina had agreed to take her in, as the Royal Guard would certainly seek her arrest the moment Anson’s true nature became known.
***
It happened a few hours outside Brenlaw that evening. Riding back through the thick forest atop Xander, a slight stab of mental energy ticked the very edge of Anson’s mind.
“Did you feel that,” he muttered, pulling up on a slight rise.
“Yes,” Lydia replied, peering over his shoulder. “There’s somebody out there.”
They saw nothing moving among the trees, save several squirrels leaping from one branch to another.
“Wait.” Holding up a hand, Lydia concentrated. “The squirrels say there are men up ahead. Two they can see, and another they can’t.”
“Let’s dismount.” Sliding off the Stallion’s back to the ground, Anson held out his hand to catch Lydia.
An arrow went thudding into a nearby trunk, having passed just an inch from Lydia’s head. Yanking her from Xander’s back, they both landed in a pile by the Stallion’s feet.
“Go!” Anson yelled, shoving her behind a large tree. He then rolled to the other side of the path, underneath Xander, to take up position behind a second trunk. “Get the horse out of here!”
Telling him to retreat but stay in the general area, Lydia watched Xander thunder back the way they’d come. “Now what?”
“Lydia, stay here.” A second arrow plunged through the brush near Anson’s tree. “I’ll handle this.”
“Anson, you’d be alone.” Defiantly, she stared at him across the path, her back pressed up against the tree. “I want to help.”
“No. Your powers aren’t suitable for fighting.” Without waiting for a reply he rolled to the other side, ducking behind another tree.
“Anson!” she yelled.
But he didn’t turn back. Leaping up, Anson charged through the trees, feeling ahead for more arrows.
They weren’t long in coming. Deflecting three more rounds heading toward his chest, Anson spied an archer hidden in the crook of a tree. Mentally yanking him from the perch, the empowered youth heard the man’s neck snap when he hit the ground.
Momentarily distracted, a shot from the second archer grazed his shoulder. Dropping to his knees, Anson pulled the arrow from the ground before ducking behind a rock.
Blood trickled down his arm, but Anson knew it wasn’t serious. Holding the arrow before his eyes with only his fingertips, he wrapped his power completely around it. Then, lifting it into the air some ten feel off the ground, he mentally flung the arrow toward the second archer, continuing to guide it with his mind.
It wasn’t difficult. Anson plunged the arrow into the second attacker, killing him instantly.
A momentary calm descended on the forest. But the squirrels had told Lydia there were three men in the woods, one of whom they couldn’t see. What did that mean?
Since his battle with Senter, Anson’s mundane senses remained heightened. Listening now, he could barely hear a single human heartbeat, some hundred yards behind the archer’s ambush.
“Anson!” Lydia called out. “Is it over?”
“Stay where you are!” he yelled back. Though he’d detected no power in the two dead archers, this third stalker betrayed the soft emanations of a mighty, skilled telepath. Clearly, this new assailant posed a grave threat.
***
Standing out in the open, yet quite invisible to the naked eye, Perno mentally surveyed the entire area. Young Lydia remained out of harm’s way to the rear, yet her robust companion even now crouched behind some nearby rocks, ready to do battle.
Inexplicably, the Network chief felt this newcomer’s mental signature crawling over his own mind. A powerful telepath indeed, able to almost completely mask his own presence, yet detecting others at will. Had the archers not flushed him out, Perno doubted he would have sensed him at all.
So there was an Unknown Talent assisting Lydia after all. Clearly it was this new threat, rather than a mysterious third talent from Lydia, that helped the princess avoid him in the woods by the festival grounds.
Perhaps this was also the Talent who’d first escaped the castle, and then Senter in the Outlands? It would explain much.
That morning Perno had tracked Lydia leaving the castle on foot, heading into the woods. Soon losing her entirely, he’d then received reports of a royal Stallion thundering northward. Surmising it was Lydia and that she would take the same way home, he’d then set up this ambush on the route back.
After interrogating Lydia as to her mother’s whereabouts, both Aprina and Lydia would be killed trying to escape his custody. This would eliminate the burgeoning Tenen/Lydia power bloc within royal society before it even fully formed.
But now? He’d brought no backup, other than the now dead archers. After all, Lydia had no ability to resist him, and Aprina was best killed by arrow, the better to avoid her close-in powers of persuasion. He hadn’t contemplated running into someone of the Unknown Talent’s might.
Well, Perno was no slouch himself, and despite the Talent’s recent success, was far more experienced in empowered combat.
Surely, the advantage lay with the head Demon.
***
Swearing softly, Anson desperately wished for his own sword, still in its scabbard on Xander. Crouching low, he stumbled back over to one of the dead archers, scavenging a short, light blade from his pack. Not a great weapon, but it would have to do.
Making short dashes from tree to tree, he closed in on the mental signature of this new Demon. Finally peering around a large trunk, however, he saw nothing.
Puzzled, his sword at the ready, Anson carefully listened. Very faintly, he detected a soft step off to one side. Orienting on the location, he still saw nothing, but the mental presence of another telepath was becoming even stronger.
“Show yourself!” Anson called out, expertly twirling the blade before him. There was no response, the forest seemingly as empty as before.
Sighing, Anson flung a bunch of small stones and sticks about, trying to hit what must be an invisible Demon. “I say again, you coward...”
A strong pulse of energy burst forth to Anson’s side, a tall, strong man seemingly forming out of thin air, armed with a large sword.
Barely parrying the Demon’s blade in time, the two exchanged several blows, weapons swinging high and low. Still, Anson’s newfound ability to channel power through his own body soon told, a blistering attack knocking his opponent’s blade aside. With only a hint of remorse he then lunged, thrusting the blade fully into the Demon’s chest.
Nothing happened. Instead of physically piercing this new opponent, the steel passed harmlessly through him, embedding into a tree beyond. Breathing hard, arms held out wide, the Demon almost comically looked down at the blade transecting his own body, the skin and clothes around the point of impact visibly swirling about in molecular confusion.
“Well, that won’t do,” Perno muttered. Bringing the flat of his blade down against Anson’s head, the commoner youth was slammed to the ground, his vision spinning.
Slowly walking away from the tree, Anson’s sword once again passed through Perno’s body, the hilt finally disappearing within his chest to reappear behind
him. Once fully clear of the weapon Perno’s image ceased oscillating, clothes and body ostensibly returning to normal.
“Who...” Anson gasped, slowly sitting up, shaking his head. “Who are you?”
“Actually, I had much the same question about you, my young friend.” Standing back, sword held lightly at the ready, Perno studied him a moment. “You’re Tenen’s new man. I’ve seen you about the castle.”
Instead of answering, Anson spied a good sized rock a short distance away. Mentally grabbing it, he whipped the stone directly into the Demon.
Nothing happened, the rock passing harmlessly through Perno’s head.
“Enough!” This time Perno used the blade, slashing at Anson’s arm. Blood flowed freely into the leaves and grass. Crying out, Anson held his hand over the gash, pushing himself away from Perno.
“It would take more than one swordsman to defeat me.” The Demon slowly pursued, the now red-stained blade oriented on his wounded opponent. “Two or three, maybe, but not one.”
Breathing heavily, Anson helplessly backed up against a large trunk. “And I bet you could escape a gang quite easily.”
“Well, I’m not invulnerable, though I clearly have the better of you.” Advancing several steps, he placed the tip of his blade squarely against Anson’s throat. “Answer my questions, and you might live. Are there others like you?”
Anson said nothing, trying to twist away from the bloody steel.
Now Perno’s blade flashed down again, causing a shallow gash on Anson’s lower leg, the sword instantly orienting once more on his throat. “What is your relationship to the princess?”
“I won’t tell you anything.” Gasping in pain, Anson looked up at him. “You’ll have to kill me.”
“You leave me little choice.” Grimly, Perno smiled. “I’ll ask one more time...”
“Stop!”
The intense shriek burst out from behind Perno. Instantly spinning about, sword now pointed in the opposite direction, he was confronted with the anguished, irate form of Lydia some twenty feet away.
