***
The Blind Seer's messenger emerged from the west wing, clad in all black with the cowl that always masked its face. ?The desert princeling stood outside, overseeing training regiments and perpetually listening to the never-ending complaints about the blasted desert heat from his steward. ?Without acknowledging anything around it, the messenger strode up to the desert princeling on its ungodly steed and silently handed him the letter.
The time is now.
"Ready the armies," he commanded his steward with a wide grin. ?"I will be bringing back a treasure of its own sort of rarity." ?Laughing, the princeling went to mount his own horse.
"The Seer expects her payment," the messenger rumbled in an indeterminate voice of ancient magic. ?The princeling froze at this, having not heard the messenger's voice before. ?He paused at the words, not expecting to pay the Blind Seer any type of required compensation.
"What does she expect?"
"She wants the bow and the Bastard's sword. ?She also requires a servant, someone who will learn the Ways and do her service, like myself."
"Choose any person you see fit," said the princeling with a forced smile and a desperate wish that the Seer would not require his invaluable steward.
Instead, the messenger turned its head to a stable boy, no older than ten years, and said, "He will do." ?The messenger pointed, and the princeling watched as the boy was suddenly enveloped by black and purple fire. ?The child screamed before disappearing entirely.
Archer of the Lake Page 18
