by LeRoy Clary
I allowed the coolness of the night air to revive me. Her changes didn’t upset me, they encouraged me to an extent. I was not afraid because there were too many unknowns to consider, too many things to go wrong. My tasks this evening were simple. Act as the escort of a princess and keep her glowing halo of a crown intact while protecting her from mages, assassins, thieves, and worse.
She had all the hard work to do.
We arrived at the ballroom and found three coaches in front of us. We waited silently. When we dismounted, there were aides to walk us inside. Honest Bran helped us out of our linen dusters and my eyes saw his reaction. I glanced at the aide and saw the same. Elizabeth impressed.
I fought to withhold my smile. They hadn’t seen the whole package yet. The glowing crown would come later, so the impact would stun.
Inside, she handed the invitation to an aide who read it before handing it off to the caller, the royal Herold, if they had such a position. Her title and what she wanted him to introduce was on the invitation. His eyes went wide as he did a double-take at Elizabeth, who stood cool and calm, her eyes lowered. Clearly, they had not expected a royal princess from another kingdom.
To me, he leaned closer and whispered as he held the invitation where I could see it, “All this?”
I glanced down. In tiny writing, instead of simply our names, and perhaps a title, she had written a lengthy description detailing her entire royal name, her royal position, some of her many duties, and embellished the kingdom of Dire as the ‘wonderland of the north’ among other things.
I said abruptly, “That will do.”
On the last line, she introduced me as a Kaon Prince of the Old Order, whatever that meant. I was no prince, of any order, and doubted there was such a thing as the Old Order, but it sounded nice to my ears.
We stood at the top of the stairs behind two other couples waiting for the Herald to announce them and finally us. Below, music merrily played softly, softening even more as each measured announcement by the Herald was made, then it increased again until the next announcement.
Looking over the baluster, the room was smaller than expected, the royal dais at the far end, the band under us, and the crowd of people in the center talking, drinking, dancing, and generally ignoring those arriving and descending the stairs in honor.
Our turn came. The Herald glanced at the invitation, up at us, and at my nod, he shouted the standard call for attention, which was ignored. The music softened. I took Elizabeth’s arm and she said from the corner of her mouth, “Wait until we reach the third step.”
We moved ahead as he read the card, which drew more attention than I’d expected. A few heads turned to see the new princess. On the third step, I placed the glowing halo as her crown.
More heads turned. Conversation stopped in mid-sentence. The band quit playing. The room went still as we slowly took each step and paused before taking the next. I held my chin up, knowing nobody was looking at me but trying to do my part.
When we reached to bottom, instead of blending in as others had done, Elizabeth walked directly ahead, pulling me along with her. She walked regally, precisely to where the king sat, a younger version of himself standing at his side. She stepped up, released my arm, and curtsied deep and low, in the most respectable manner possible.
She was only two steps away from him. When he motioned for her to stand, she whispered fiercely, so softly I had a hard time hearing her and she was next to me, “We must talk. Now.”
The king slowly stood, his eyes, like those of the hundreds of people in the room, guests and servants alike, on the crown of light on her head. In comparison, his gold crown trimmed with jewels was pale and unimpressive. He was momentarily confused at her words, then recovered.
His voice boomed in the still air as he threw his arms wide to embrace her, “This is an unexpected surprise.”
Before any objections could be made, he kept his right arm around her shoulder and mumbled in her ear as he led her to the side, “Come with me.”
I meekly followed, expecting to be ordered to halt at every step, however, we managed to reach a door that I had not seen. We quickly entered, and for the first time, I realized there was a fourth person—the son that had been at his father’s side firmly shut the door to the rest of the guests.
The king fell heavily into a chair, one of five or six. His breath came hard and fast, his face flushed, but his eyes were stern and focused on Elizabeth.
The son was confused, part angry, part mesmerized by the beauty of Elizabeth. I was far too smart and well versed in royal manners to speak.
The king said between heavy breaths, “Who are you and what is this all about?”
“We are from the Kingdom of Dire and I am Princess Elizabeth, second in line to our throne, and this is Damon. I come here on a matter of urgency that cannot wait.”
He said, “I find most emergencies are because you have a problem, not me.”
“In this case,” she used the same droll tone as him, “It does concern you as much as me. Maybe more.”
“Sit. Tell me the short version of this dire emergency.” He chuckled. “Dire emergency. Did you hear my pun?”
“I’ve heard it too many times over the years and this is no laughing matter.”
His eyes drooped. Sweat beaded his forehead. It hadn’t been there a moment earlier. Elizabeth saw it too. She motioned to the prince. “Is there medication? No, never mind. Just listen.”
She quickly told of her father’s illness, the increased number of mages at Crestfallen, and when she had their full attention, she told them of Trager, Vin, and Dagger. How the royalty in each either sickened or died in accidents, the royal rule had eventually been taken over by a council of advisors.
As she talked, the king and his son exchanged several meaningful glances.
I cannot say she told the shortest version, but anger and fear replaced their festive expressions. Neither interrupted. She skipped a lot, especially about the last dragon, Kendra, and me but hit the highlights of the rest.
“Who is behind this attack on all of us?” The son asked.
I’d missed hearing the prince’s name if any had mentioned it, so I extended my hand to introduce myself and ask. As our hands clasped, a scream filled my ears, almost a wail of joy. It receded, but my hand tingled. It was so intense, my concentration lapsed, and the halo of gold flitted from existence as a result.
The prince was as surprised and confused as me. He backed away as if I’d done something to him on purpose. His surprise and confusion turned to anger.
However, I found myself smiling. I’d heard and felt the same before. Once. Without thinking of the breach of protocol, I slipped my sword free and raised it high. I said, “Please remove your sword.”
Obviously thinking we were going to fight, he pulled his blade and as the distance closed, the keening increased. I gently moved mine closer and the odd sound increased. I pulled it away and the sound quieted.
The king said, “What is this happening?”
“You can’t hear that?” the prince demanded.
“Hear what?”
The prince said to me, “What do you know of this?”
I decided to respond fully. “Over two hundred years ago, at least three swords were made and enchanted by someone unknown. They were to never be crossed in battle. Only the owners hear the sound we call singing.”
He moved his closer and backed away. I waited. He said, “You knew about this. You knew it would happen.”
I shook my head. “I knew of two swords. Mine and one that belongs to the rightful heir of Vin, Prince Angle. We discovered the spell as we attacked each other in battle. He is now recruiting men from Vin and Trager to help us take Dagger and march on Kaon and a magical being who is known to us only as the Young Mage.”
“Is that who makes my father ill and caused the horse to throw me?”
Elizabeth said as music drifted through the door. “To take control of Malawi all that is required is a
long illness by the king so properly appointed advisors from Kaon can be placed, one of the princes falls down stairs he has climbed since childhood, a second dies in a hunting accident and the last by the same illness that has plagued him since birth. Without knowing for certain, I’ll guess the next and next couple in the royal line has already met with untimely deaths.”
The king and his son exchanged another telling look.
Elizabeth said, “So the next to wear the crown is either weak, aged, or feeble. A council should be formed to rule until such time as the crown can be restored—which will never happen.”
The king said, “So, you came to warn us.”
“No. To ask you to join with us in defeating the Young Mage. My kingdom, my father the king of Dire, and my eldest brother, and the rule of my kingdom are all at risk, the same as yours. We’ve merely stalled the Young Mage. Unless we act and band together, he will use other methods to defeat all of us. His primary plan is already in place here in Malawi. His alternative is to attack you with the combined armies of five kingdoms.”
The last statement drew blood from the faces of both.
She continued, “When in all your history have six mages gathered in Malawi? Or even three?”
The prince snarled, “I never liked them.”
The king looked at me then back at Elizabeth. “What do you want of us?”
Without thinking, I knelt and held out my sword, the blade in the palms of my hands, and bowed, baring my neck. I said nothing.
After a time, the king took my sword and from the corner of my eye watched him examine it critically. He asked, “This was made here? One of the finest swords in the entire world?”
“It was.”
“Yet you offer it to me without condition?”
“I do.”
He took the sword by the hilt and tapped each of my shoulders. “Arise, Sir Damon.”
That hadn’t been my intention. I was as stunned as Elizabeth. She said with a giggle, “Wait until my father hears you’ve been abducted by the Malawi kingdom. He’ll be furious.”
I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t refuse. I didn’t have the option to accept or not, it was done. Both the king and his son were smiling at our reactions. The king said, “The longer we remain in here, the more rumors will fly, the more the mages will be curious and warned. Make her hair glow again, and the four of us will attend my ball as if we are the oldest of friends.”
“The mages,” I began to say.
He continued, “Are all in the castle, and we will decide what to do with them after the ball. Of course, I cannot allow two of the children of my oldest friend, the King of Dire, stay at an inn. Suites will be prepared for you.” He looked at his son. “See to it when you can slip out for a moment. You know which to use.”
We were almost ready to leave the small room when an odd feeling swept over me. My knees went weak. Inside my mind, I smelled the rot. A foul stench that sickened me. I sat heavily and reached out in my mind, *Anna!*
*Yes.*
*Help with what is in my mind. Can you?*
*It is close to you. Reach out with your mind and follow it to the source.*
My eyes were closed, but inside my mind was swirling red, like a red mist in a storm, and in that mist was a single spot of blackness. I followed it and found a tiny place where essence was stored, not much, just a drop or two. It was in the neck of the king. My eyes flashed open.
The three of them were administering to me, trying to help. I threw my arms wide and leaped to my feet. They backed away as if scared.
Anna declared, *That is the source of it. Evil. It smells like death.*
I said, “Before we go out there, you should know there is a small amount of what we call essence, a substance that allows mage’s magic to work, and it is located inside your neck. It is what makes you ill.”
“Can you remove it?” Elizabeth asked.
“I don’t know,” I said.
The king said, “Removing it might be a bad idea. I’ve had it for who knows how long, so a while longer won’t hurt. Removing it will tell whoever put it there you are on to him.”
Elizabeth nodded once and snapped at me, “Give me back my golden crown. We have work to do tonight.”
*We are fine. I’m going back to sleep unless you need me again.*
I thanked Anna and restored Elizabeth’s crown. If we had been alone, I’d have poured myself a tall glass of cool water from the tip of my finger and relaxed. Or maybe something stronger. I walked outside the door as the other three stepped onto the raised dais, a woman intercepted me.
I thought my abilities at hand-to-hand combat were adequate, however, they failed to compare to her snatch-and-grab of me as she clutched me whirled me onto the dance floor. It was funny. She got me there, but couldn’t keep me, as another beautiful young woman managed to slip between us and spin me away. She whispered in my ear, which was moist, damp air, and she nuzzled my neck. I don’t remember the words.
I did my best to escape her clutches. That is a lie, but saying it seems the right thing to do. Nearer the truth is that every unattached, and probably some attached women, wanted their time alone with me. Resisting was futile. I let them have their way with me, spinning, swooping, whirling, and dancing until late. I ignored their suggestions and blushed at several.
Elizabeth stole a dance with me, during which she hissed like a snake, “It is time for you and me to disappear. Dance us closer to that door below the stairs.”
I did as she commanded. The door opened at our approach and we danced through, where we were greeted by the prince. He said, “Quickly, this way.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The prince hurried us down a narrow hallway, up a flight of stairs that looked seldom used from the amount of dirt and debris lying about, and into a section of the castle that had expensive carpets so thick the sounds of our passing was silent.
He opened another door and ushered us inside but didn’t stop there. We crossed a sitting room, a dressing room, and then he moved aside a tapestry that hung from ceiling to floor. Another door was hidden behind it. He opened the door and inside was a small suite of windowless rooms, a musky smell, and dust.
“Sorry, I didn’t have time to clean it up,” the prince said.
“You? Clean?” I asked.
“This is one of a few safe places in the palace, known only to a select royal few, and yes, I clean it—or should have. People will know you entered the rooms outside, and we will create the impression you are staying there. Clothing, food, wine, and water will be placed there.”
I understood. “You think someone is going to come after us.”
“The mages. But their magic will do them no good if they cannot find you. A guard will stand outside the door to the outer suite of rooms, food and such will be delivered there, and word will spread that you are living there. But my father is more than angry and there will be hell to pay.”
“We need to talk. The four of us, and of course, your brothers as well,” Elizabeth said.
The prince paused, pursed his lips and said, “We will not invite them, and I will not attend but promise my support for whatever my father agrees to. I will share this information with my brothers.”
I saw what had been unsaid and headed off Elizabeth’s further questions, “Your father is scared to have all six of us in the same room. The ceiling might fall in on us, or the drinking water might contain poison. He’s smart.”
The prince turned to me. “You and I need to talk about our swords one day. There is a third, and I’d like to hear about it, how you met, and there should be a bottle or two of wine between us.”
“We will do that. It’s quite a story.”
He stood for a moment, and then said, “I am meeting individually with two of our top generals tonight, ones we completely trust as much as family. The first of them awaits me.”
He left and I used the heavy iron bar on the door behind him. A tiny hole at eye-level gave me just enou
gh sight to see who stood at the door the next time someone wanted in. Elizabeth sagged on wobbly legs to the bed nearest her, with no attempt to clean it first. At Crestfallen, she had been immaculate in her apartment, so it was a major difference.
I felt the same.
She said, “What about Bran?”
“I asked the prince to send him home and to pay him well.”
She closed her eyes and I realized the luminous crown still sat on her head. I shut it off and looked at the three candles burning. That was all the light we had, but a dozen more unlit candles were in the bedside table.
“I have never been this tired, not even when we walked across the desert south of Dagger.”
“It has been a long exhausting day,” I agreed. “But you should be proud of yourself. I never would have believed you could gain a private meeting with a king in a single day.”
“Your crown was the last key.” Her voice trailed off in volume and the last words slurred as she slumped sideways.
I went to her and lifted her legs on to the bed and covered her. A sofa was against one wall, and I decided to sleep on it because it was closer to the only door. As I closed my eyes, a stray thought entered as if on cue. The only door? What sort of “safe” apartment has only one way in and one out?
I used one of the lighted candles to light another, a fat candle intended to last the night. I’d hardly closed my eyes when a tapping came from the door. At the peephole, I found the prince and the king. I threw the iron bar aside and let them in.
The prince supported his father. He placed him on my sofa. Elizabeth leaped to our side, “What’s wrong with him?”
“He passed out.”
I knew why he’d been brought here. I searched and found the swirling red mist inside him, and the dark spot of evil black. It had been the size of a pea at the ball. Now it pulsated and was the size of my thumb—and was growing. The king was dying.
