Unleashed Fury (BloodRunes: Book 1)
Page 24
Only a few moments passed before the guard informed her that the King was now ready. Absently she wondered how he had been advised of his readiness, as she had seen no messenger. She stood to make her way into the hall and the guard opened the door and announced her. She curtsied to the King, who sat on the throne placed above her on the dais. He motioned for her to enter and take a seat by the chair which sat to his right, and she moved forward, doing her best to move flowingly and gracefully. She lifted her skirts out away from her so that she could sit beside him, and gave him another bow with her head. He sat staring at her, his piercing eyes seeming to cut through to her soul. She fought back a shudder, in awe of his beauty despite herself. “My Liege,” she greeted him, waiting for him to start the conversation in a polite gesture of subservience.
He studied her for a long moment before starting in his strange tone. “So you are my speaker of the Council,” he stated. Jezebel nodded, holding her tongue as no question had actually been posed to her yet. “And what kind of plans does my new Council have to use me as a puppet for?” he asked shrewdly.
Jezebel was not about to be caught off-guard and answered, “Only those plans which we believe will benefit both you and us and the country as a whole, Your Excellency, and certainly not to use you to meet these ends, but simply plan to share with you our vast combined knowledge in hopes that we may sway you to our cause.” She reached for the power tentatively, but withdrew the touch almost immediately as she felt him instinctively do the same. She was speechless at the amount he was able to command.
He gave her a warning glance and said, “Do not play games with me, woman. I am the King here and will do all that is necessary to protect that position. I will tolerate no disobedience from you, or anyone else, and will treat anyone committing treason against me to the highest possible punishment. I am well aware of the Council's attempts to bind the King to their bidding, and have no intention of letting them control me in such a way. Do we understand one another?” Jezebel chose not to disabuse him of the notion that she was working with the rest of the Council, and simply nodded submissively, allowing the King to assume that his threats had taken hold, and would keep her from trying to use him. After all, you didn't need someone's awareness or permission to use them to your ends, and in this case Jezebel wisely decided that telling him how wrong he was would not do her any good.
His next words floored her, however, and she lost all interest in controlling him for the moment. “You know,” he started languidly, “speaking of bindings, your father has quite a grip on you.” He paused, giving her a hard look as she stared at him dumbly. “His smell is all over you,” he wrinkled his nose in distaste. “He has you so wound in control spells that soon you won't be able to spit without him giving you permission.”
He waved a hand at her, and she felt as though something snapped inside her head. A horrible anger washed over her; as if her subconscious had known what was being done to her, but could do nothing, and now freed, it could vent its rage. She gripped the edge of her chair until her knuckles turned white, and could feel the power building within her, threatening to break free.
“Calm yourself,” the King commanded and immediately her rage disappeared, leaving her in a tranquil state, and she intertwined her fingers in her lap, looking up at the King and patiently awaiting his next words. He looked down at her and smiled. “That's better. Now let's have a little chat. Obviously you've just discovered that your father decided that rather than go the traditional method of deception and blackmail to control one of the Council members to his own use, that he'd just take you over, violating the bonds of blood that you share. Someone must have prepared a spell for him with your blood as your father is not strong enough by himself to have done such a thing, and no doubt you have been receiving enchanted letters and documents regularly to strengthen his hold. Hmm?” He loosened his grip on her emotions, allowing her to take control once more, and she fought down the anger of that betrayal while struggling for control.
She threw up hasty shielding so that no one could take her over again. “Who does he think he is?” she snarled angrily, her wrath at her father making her overlook the King's own brief control. She loosened her fingers, which were gripping her palms so hard that the nails were starting to draw blood.
“Well,” the King answered, much to Jezebel's annoyance taking pleasure in her ordeal, “he soon will find out that taking over control of one of MY Council members, especially one with which I have taken a personal interest in, is not a smart move on his part. The intrigues of the court cannot be helped, but magical subversion is not above punishment.” Jezebel felt anger being replaced by morbid pleasure at his words, and she smiled evilly at him to continue. “You see, my dear, I have heard quite a lot about you through a mutual friend of ours, and I find that you have sparked my interest. Unfortunately, that friend had a rather poisonous habit that seems to have caught up with him. That puts me in the position of dealing with you myself, which after much consideration, I believe will be beneficial to both of us.”
Jezebel sat further up in her chair, she had come to this meeting in the hopes of controlling him herself, but after witnessing his power she knew that this would not be possible - at least not through magical means. But the idea of working intimately with the King, and the possibilities that such a partnership could lead to was acceptable, and she wondered what had caught his eye. It would require a bit more subtle handling on her part to keep him under the illusion that he continued to be the one in charge once she properly established herself, but the challenge excited her. “Who was this friend?” she asked curiously, her mind whirling with possibilities of someone it could have been.
He looked at her and smiled. “Why Jonathan, of course, hadn't you guessed?”
Jezebel closed her mouth, which had dropped open of its own accord, and she choked out, “Jonathan? I'd hardly consider that little worm a friend-” she cut herself short, suddenly realizing the significance of this and remembering Devon's earlier words about Jonathan's position within the Order. “Does that mean you are the one he called, 'Master'?” she whispered incredulously.
The King simply smiled at her. Well, she thought to herself, this puts a whole new spin on things now doesn't it. A smile slowly spread over her lips as well, mirroring that of the King.
CHAPTER 27
Gryffon had drafted a message this morning, using a more elaborate method of coding this time. He explained that this was because while the last message both was hopefully unknown as a message and nonsensical babble to anyone but those already aware of what was going on, this new message would have to convey information that would be readable by any who intercepted it.
Therefore, he had gotten out what he called his cipher from a hollow coin for the newest letter. Layna had gasped in delight at the ingenuity of the hiding spot. Such a normal, everyday object, no one would think that you would carry something so valuable out in the open like that. But at the same time, coins themselves were valuable so you would have a perfectly good reason for carrying them close to you.
In his message, Gryffon reported the rumors that were floating around regarding war with Treymayne, and relayed a more detailed description of the disturbing fact that they could personally attest to the truth of the blood-magic being used. Gryffon had also asked Layna if she would be comfortable with him requesting information about the mark, without actually admitting to his handlers that he had come across someone with one. She had tentatively agreed, and together they had come up with wording that was acceptable to both of them.
She curiously drilled him on several subjects involving the secret coding, and was rewarded with information that she found fascinating. She was also pleased that he shared the information with her so readily now. He told her about coding methods that used innocuous-seeming documents as cover text to distract a reader from the real message within, scribes who could write so perfectly that the spacing between their letters or the boldness of their ink could dis
play huge amounts of information only useful to the other end who knew the key to reading it, and many other ingenious methods.
He admitted that some codes could be broken by analysis. Every language, he had told her, had certain letters that were more likely to appear next to each other or in greater frequency than others, and these patterns could be identified and used to break the code. There was also the simple fact that like with most things, human influence tends to cause even an unbreakable code to be breakable because of people using things that were important to them, like loved one’s initials, for keys and ciphers rather than being totally random in their choice. All in all, though, Layna was sufficiently impressed by the intricacy of Gryffon's art, and was once again left in astonishment at another layer of life that she had previously been so completely unaware of. She found herself wondering if she had ever come across such a message, ignorant of its true meaning, and caught herself more than once taking a second look at people on the street, wondering if perhaps they weren't what they seemed.
It had taken several days for the two messages to get a reply, but one had finally come. They carefully snuck it out of hiding and back to their room. The message itself was uninformative, but they were happy to have found that they had been sent a small amount of money, which was fortunate as they were about to overextend their stay. Gryffon had the message translated in short order and he had read it to her. “Copy new position, Black Fish, Usual Time, Weather.”
Layna had been baffled by this seemingly nonsensical phrasing, but Gryffon had explained to her that his handlers would not have wanted to send highly classified information through written word – which always had the potential for being intercepted and deciphered. Instead, they sent out a code which was unique to him in order to arrange a meeting in person to exchange the delicate information.
Gryffon lead the way to an isolated tavern on the wharfs, where they took a seat at the table at the back, and waited for the contact to make the first move. This tavern was code named Black Fish, hence the reference in the message. The last word in the code being 'weather', Layna was told would be the word that the two would use to recognize one another. After a few minutes a drunken man stumbled over to them and Layna watched with disgust as he tripped and fell in front of their table, grunting as he did. He pulled himself up onto the bench next to Gryffon and moaned. He slurred, “Hey man, I'm feeling a bit under the weather, would you do me a favor and walk me outside?”
Layna's ears perked up at the word 'weather' and she wondered if this was the informant. Her thought was confirmed as Gryffon stood and helped the man to his feet. “Hey thanks, man,” the drunk once again mumbled.
Gryffon responded, “The fresh air will do you some good, it’s beautiful weather out tonight.” The man grunted in reply.
They made their way out with Gryffon supporting the wavering man and Layna following behind. Once they were outside, the man glanced back at Layna, his suddenly clear eyes full of suspicion.
Gryffon said, “She's with me,” and the man nodded slightly.
“Over this way,” he said, losing the slur, but still leaning against Gryffon in case there were any hidden eyes upon them. They made their way to an abandoned building, and the man separated himself from Gryffon, abandoning his feigned drunkenness altogether as he pushed aside a board. He waved them inside and quickly followed behind them, dropping the board back into place.
He murmured something that sounded to Layna like what Gryffon had used to shield their room the other day, and then turned to them. “They're disappointed that you lost your cover, agent, your former target has moved into a position that could have proven most useful, especially with your disturbing confirmation of blood-magic returning. However, several contacts admitted to have been being followed, so it was determined that it was no fault of yours, but simply that the quarry was too watchful and much more dangerous than we had originally anticipated.” Gryffon shifted his weight and exchanged a knowing look with Layna as the man continued. “The situation has heightened; we believe that the forces behind the new King Nathair are indeed preparing for war as they were previously, though the plans seem to have stalled due to the death of King Edward and the resulting chaos that ensued during his replacement. We've been able to find out very little about the man, Nathair, who did assume the throne, so if you hear anything of value regarding this new King, please inform us as it could be essential to our ability to counter him. In addition to your report of the blood-beasts, we now have confirmed reports that the dark arts, that is to say, blood-magic, has been resurrected in other outlets as well, and we are suspicious that it may already be manifesting in more ways than creating magical beasts.”
Gryffon whistled.
“It's become a big tangled mess that we are snarled in, I'm afraid,” said the man, nodding soberly. “As to your request for information about the symbol, I'm afraid I have little to offer you. I've been authorized to inform you that the symbol is a sign of the Dark King, though how it relates to him exactly is unclear. The most information that we have been able to gather about it has come from the Shadowlands, a town renamed as such since being the Dark King's capital. It is also where his hidden fortress is said to lie, and reports indicate that the symbol is quite prevalent there. It is believed that this fortress was eventually made into the Dark King's tomb when the Bloodguard reburied him, and that within its walls they buried the secrets of his power. No one who has ever tried to gather more information has ever been able to circumvent its formidable barriers, however, so its mysteries remain secret.” He handed Gryffon a parchment. “Further instructions are enclosed, but for the moment your assignment is to stay put and watch and listen.”
With that, the man slipped out the back, and Gryffon and Layna were left to digest this news. “What do you think?” Gryffon asked Layna.
“I think,” she began, “that as far as the war and the blood-magic, he really didn't tell us anything we didn't know, but rather confirmed our fears.” She paused and Gryffon simply waited for her to continue. “I'd really like to know why I have a symbol of the Dark King on my neck though,” she whispered softly, fear slipping into her voice despite her attempts to cover it.
Gryffon gave her a sympathetic look and bit his lip thoughtfully. “Maybe we should show you a little more of your countryside.”
“What do you mean?” Layna asked.
“I mean that perhaps we should travel to this Shadowlands and see for ourselves why you are marred with such an evil mark when you are so obviously nothing like the King it supposedly represents.”
Layna was glad for the dim light to cover her mix of emotions at his words, and she pressed him, “What about your orders? They were to stay here.”
Gryffon shrugged. “It's not as though I'm vital to their operations here. They basically just told me that I'm now useless because I lost my cover, so they'll hardly miss me. Besides,” he said, his tone growing affectionate as he put a hand on her shoulder, “you are way more important. If what you need is to find answers about yourself, then we'll go to where we can find them.”
Layna reached her hand up to cover his on her shoulder and she gave it a quick squeeze. “Thanks,” she said gratefully.
“Plus,” he added seriously, “I'm sure it won't be long before Jezebel sends someone after us again, it will be good to be on the move.”
They decided that they may as well set out sooner rather than later, so they gathered up their belongings and settled their debt with the inn-keep the very next morning. They walked Axe and Fly through the crowded streets and made idle conversation about the city itself, and what Gryffon knew about the Shadowlands and the neighboring town of Dunlop.
At the guard station, they were asked to please come inside for a routine check. They were told that it was standard procedure for a random check to be done every so often on the people in and out of the city, and they were the lucky travelers. Layna broke into a cold sweat as they were led towards the small building.
The guard on-duty must have been nearing his end of shift as he was starting to speak in a monotone and kept glancing at the door as if at any moment his replacement might come walking in. Gryffon answered one of the questions, and the guard nodded, “uh-huh, uh-huh,” scribbling in handwriting that Layna wondered if even he could decipher later. He seemed to perk up somewhat when Gryffon started asking him about hunting, and they even exchanged a laugh which brightened the man's mood.
He finally stood and reached out a hand to shake Gryffon's, saying that if they were ever back in town that he should look him up and he'd bring Gryffon to all the good hunting spots.
A young man stepped through the door just then, and the guard greeted him gruffly. “About time there, laddy,” he admonished.
The young man looked to be just old enough to have joined the army, and was trying vainly to grow a beard, presumably to add to his respectability by looking older, but it only served to make him look asymmetrical and unkempt as it grew in odd patches rather than a complete coverage. The man straightened haughtily at the older guard's demeanor, and he stuck his rather large and pointy nose in the air. “I am here at the exact time I'm supposed to be here,” he informed the man in a pinched voice. He raised the papers he had in his hand. “And furthermore, I have just come from the general's office and been informed of a pair of renegade spies that we need to be on the look-out for.” The older man gave him a bored look and the small man narrowed his eyes as if unsure what to do with him.