The king's eyebrows widened at those words, and he gestured for Sorlin to continue. "By all means, good mage. It is herein where your counsel reigns supreme."
After putting down his chalice and gazing at his robe with a tired sigh, Sorlin muttered several guttural syllables and a curious Sorn, peeking very cautiously at the mage with one eye from his well-concealed perch in the center of the thickest overhead beam, found that he could comprehend neither words nor gestures. Indeed, the entire spell seemed to snap into being like a steel spring, as if the whole had been carefully constructed long before, needing only a single phrase to trigger the spell into effect. The objective, of course, was fairly easy to ascertain in this case, the spells cast designed to scan for either poisons or magic, Sorn knowing several such cantrips himself. The mage below, however, appeared to be using a completely foreign method of casting his spells, utterly different from the techniques that Sorn had practiced so long and hard to master himself.
Predictably, perhaps, the magically inclined Sorn found this development extremely interesting, and almost despite himself, he fluttered down lower to have a better look.
"Ah." The mage nodded with a satisfied smile. "The letter is mundane in every way. The bird, I suspect, is in all likelihood another matter entirely."
With that he formally handed the letter to the king before turning his gaze upon the rapidly retreating bird, once again out of sight, back on his perch on the center beam.
"Is he magical?" Elissa asked in wonder.
The mage gave Elissa a rueful smile. "Whatever he is, he's too clever to let me have a clear line of sight on him, which probably tells us something in and of itself."
Elissa grinned at that, though her expression quickly turned to alarm when she saw the dreadful pallor that had overtaken her father. "Papa, what's wrong?"
"It is… nothing, my child," the king said, voice heavy with false reassurance that did nothing to assuage his daughter's fears. He then turned to Sorlin, expression grave, and handed him the letter. "What do you think, my friend, is it valid?"
Sorlin peered at it, frowning for several moments. "What it portends is grave. We face a serious threat of the worst sort indeed, if what this letter warns us of is correct."
"What do you think of the latter half of the letter?" the king asked softly, as if afraid to invoke the possibility by even uttering the words.
Sorlin sighed. "If it's true, it explains fully Vorstice's actions, and exactly what type of creature we have allowed within our midst." His expression turned grim. "I would derive great pleasure in determining exactly what Vorstice's intentions were, would it not jeopardize four hundred years of peaceful coexistence between mages and nobility to find out, as he well knows, damn him."
Elissa's look was one of confused frustration at that point. "What are you two talking about? Why are you not letting me see the letter?" She asked with growing concern, seeing the grim look quickly exchanged by her elders.
"Elissa dear," The king consoled, "perhaps now is not the best time. I think it would be best if we called it a night, my dear. I would be more than happy to discuss this matter with you in the morning, should it need discussing. Right now what we most need is a good nights sleep."
"I'm not going anywhere, damn it, now show me that letter!" Elissa's brilliant green eyes blazed with frustration at what she no doubt saw only as her father's condescending over-protectiveness. "Really, Father, with the whole continent in a state of war, how will I ever be strong enough to rule, if you insist on protecting me from a simple letter?" With those angry words said, she snatched the letter from the high mage's hand, her hot stare just daring Sorlin to do something about it. With a sigh, Sorlin shook his head.
"You will do as you will, of course, dear child. Read it if you must," Sorlin said gravely.
"That I will!" Elissa responded frostily. A minute later her intent expression became one of outright horror as she neared the end, a ghastly pallor overtaking her features. She sat down without resisting when the mage gently led her to her seat, looking like nothing so much as a startled rabbit ready to dart for her life, yet too frightened to move.
"Not a pleasant message princess, we know. Fear not, one way or another, we will get to the bottom of this," Sorlin consoled.
"How?" Elissa asked gravely.
"Carefully, dear. Carefully." The king replied. "Right now, Vorstice has the council in the palm of his hand, just where he wants it. We can't risk him inciting the council to riot or worse, so we must needs find another way than accusing him of treachery directly."
The king's words were grim, and though his voice was calm, his eyes blazed with anger. "Damn that bastard. Any move we make he can use as a pretext to incite a riot against us, claiming we are attempting to destroy him for our own personal gain."
The three troubled figures sat brooding for some moments, the king quietly soothing his frightened daughter, the high wizard gazing thoughtfully into the fire, until someone finally broke.
"Oh by the Crow, people, it's not that hard!" declared an exasperated bird, unfazed by the three incredulous stares directed his way, though he was a little bit saddened by Elissa's yelp as she fell completely out of her chair, standing up moments later with the help of the wizard, rubbing her bruised derriere.
"You don't have to tell anyone you’re specifically looking for evidence of Vorstice's treachery, just organize a squad of men and say there has been a report of a murder in the area. Maybe say that several bodies were found stuffed in an alley with strange crossbow bolts in them. It's a perfect pretext to investigate. I mean, even if Vorstice and his band of cronies runs into you, what are they going to say? Your men can't investigate a strange murder because it will make him look bad? Please!"
The three below were still speechless, though Sorlin looked to be collecting himself, shaking his head and chuckling wryly.
"I mean, just remember to bring a mage who can scout the building invisible-like," The animated bird continued. "Once you see even a few men lounging about with unfamiliar uniforms or crossbows, you'll know that the letter is completely true, and you can crush the threat before it crushes you!"
"And so we are now advised by a talking bird," Sorlin said, still chuckling ruefully. "And who would you be, dear crow, in any case? Who do you really serve? What are your objectives in this, oh arcane familiar?"
Sorn visibly huffed at these accusations, giving a sharp retort though still on the ceiling beam directly above them. "First of all, I am nobody's familiar. Consider me a strictly freelance bird. Secondly, my long-term objective, as you put it, is simply to avoid seeing all the good citizens of your poor city being reduced to slavery, butchered and ravaged for the stinking Empire's pleasure. I choose to favor you with my friendship, and so your enemy is my own. It's that simple."
"If only life were that simple, good crow. If only one could trust such a noble declaration. I am sorry, good bird, but I find it hard enough to trust my fellow man, let alone enchanted beasts." The mage's tone was cynical, but sad as well. As if to say he was too sophisticated to be led astray, yet saddened by the jaded world he lived in nonetheless.
The crow, of course, only rolled his eyes in a gesture so blatant and familiar that Elissa, for one, could not help but break out in laughter. The chuckle was brittle, however, serving more as a release for all her pent up anxiety and fear, Sorn thought. Still, she suddenly seemed more at ease, and even her father cracked a smile at the bird.
Sorn gave a frustrated ruffle of his feathers. "Come on, good mage. Are you really this hung up about just checking out the possibility there could be a whole army lying in wait where none expect them? In the heart of your city, no less? You sound like one of those men who are so paranoid that they don't even trust their own messengers. In that case, what's the point of doing anything? Just hide in the hills and avoid contact with all living things. That's the only way you can absolutely guarantee you'll be safe. Barring avalanches, of course."
With that, the
crow turned his gaze to the king. "Look, Your Majesty, it's not that big a deal. Send a small squad with a single mage or two or whoever you want for reconnaissance, just to verify whether or not those enemy soldiers do in fact exist. Whether or not they're wearing uniforms or plain clothes, certainly their weapons will be unmistakable. It's an easy way to tell where things lie, and then you can all beat a hasty retreat and plan from there, knowing the truth of what I'm warning. I can even recommend a further step, but only if you're willing."
"Please." The king said, smiling after a moment. "Enlighten us with your further insight. At least you have given us some food for thought."
"And I could use some food for my belly," the crow said flippantly, earning himself another smile or two. "Very well. The other idea is this: if Vorstice does catch wind of our little foray into his warehouses, you could formally address the head of the council himself, assuming that Vorstice is technically under investigation as well as Halence and Sorn and their crewmates, even if it is just a pretext. You could then advise that the council give Vorstice a couple drops of… this."
The crow dropped a small vial onto the table, having picked it free of the twine lightly tied around his leg while conversing.
"It's a tellall cooked up by the good healer Salrie. If they don't trust it, they can always get another vial from some other potion cooker, I'm sure."
The king shook his head in frustration. "Can't do it, crow. One of the rules of the council is that no lord can ever be forced to imbibe any potion for interrogation or trial. The idea is that this will prevent corrupted potions from being used to magically force a false confession, though we all know the rule is really just a way for lords to protect their own. We've always allowed them their little privileges in the past. It keeps them placated, and the minor trouble they get away with is nothing compared to what they would be capable of, were they not content to live within the present system. At least, until now."
The crow stared at the king contemplatively for a moment before continuing. The way he switched his view from one eye to the next seemed mildly unnerving to the king.
"Protecting their own, hmm… So this is just something the lords do for their own benefit. I mean, it's not ironclad, is it? So the council leaders could allow it if they wanted to, right?"
"I suppose." The king sighed. "But the odds of them consenting to that are infinitely less than us being able to proceed to the warehouses in question unmolested by Vorstice's cronies."
Sorn bobbed his head. "That is, unless Vorstice taking the potion somehow benefited the nobles, right?"
The king gave a slight nod. "Of course. But how do we convince them of that?"
"Easy! Just tell them to ask Vorstice only a few questions, those questions having nothing to do with treachery against the king, or crimes committed against a commoner, but only the following: First off, does he plan on betraying his fellow nobles to a life of misery, slavery and death? Secondly, what does he intend for the younger sons and daughters of his fellow nobles in the future?
"These questions alone should pique the nobles' curiosity right where it belongs, focusing on the safety of their own skins. Most importantly, the questions have absolutely nothing to do with Vorstice's actions against Captain Halence or the Crown or any other ‘outside' group. It only concerns whether or not Vorstice plans on betraying his fellow nobles. Thus, they will see that it is not about them protecting one of their own against outsiders. Rather, it is about protecting themselves from being betrayed by one of their own."
Sorn paused a moment, taking a necessary break from his vital attempts to help save the kingdom in order to preen a particularly annoying itch between his tail feathers. "Anyway, this should at least pique their concern and curiosity, and may make them a bit more sympathetic towards our checking for a hidden enemy base that, after all, could well spell doom for their own families. At least some of the nobles will probably start to give some more thought about what is really at stake here, beyond their petty political maneuvering, and they too might conclude, 'better safe than sorry'. And that, my friends, is how we diffuse Vorstice's political blockade, and see about stopping this treachery before it spells doom for your kingdom."
Sorn fell momentarily silent, able to verify by the slowly nodding heads and thoughtful looks sent his way that his ideas were at least being considered.
The king and his mage shared glances for several moments, both smiling before turning away.
"My goodness," Sorlin said softly. "I do believe we're taking advice from a crow."
"Not just any crow!" said the bird in question, ruffling his feathers and preening before them. "Look at this exceptional plumage. Look at these bright little eyes. Am I a perfect avian specimen or what? Yessir, you couldn't design a better crow if you tried!"
Elissa couldn't keep herself from grinning, the bird taking that as an invitation to fly over to her shoulder, gently landing as she gave a small gasp of surprise, her hands tentatively reaching to stroke his soft feathers. The bird, apparently, didn't seem to mind a bit. He appeared, if anything, pleased by the attention. And despite the murmured concerns of her father, who had handled birds long ago during his own youth, the crow's grip on her dress was as soft and gentle as a lover's kiss.
Exchanging another glance with his king, the mage quietly uttered several more arcane syllables, and a peeved Sorn realize he had, at least to a certain extent, been discovered.
"That certainly is no normal crow," the mage confided quietly to his king, though loud enough for Sorn to overhear. "Not that that's any great surprise with a talking bird, mind you."
"I fail to see what's the big deal with my being able to talk!" Sorn huffed, though quickly soothed by Elissa's gentle voice and wonderful fingers that seemed to know just how to stroke his head. "Cockatiels can talk, parakeets can talk, and you couldn't get a parrot to shut up if you tried! So why can't we have a talking crow? Besides, it's not polite to cast detection spells on people without asking," Sorn grumbled.
"And isn't he a fine crow, for all that?" Elissa praised. "You make a far better conversationalist that any parrot, my good crow."
"Well at least someone appreciates me," huffed a mollified Sorn, quite pleased, in fact, to have Elissa fuss over him so.
"Don't mind Sorlin, sweetie. He's an old worrywart and fusses over everything. Of course we know you're a magical crow. You're too special to be anything else!"
"Hmm," Sorn nodded, liking the idea. "You've got a point, there. Certainly I'm too special to be any mundane bird! And you're right, you know. I am a much better conversationalist than any parrot. Well, mostly," Sorn amended, “but grampa doesn't count."
"Your grandfather is a parrot?" Elissa queried in her sweet voice, auburn eyebrows making a delicate arch over her deep green eyes as she glanced at the crow in puzzled bemusement.
"Never mind." At which point the crow turned his head to face the king, anxious to change the subject. "So, Your Majesty, what's say we get this show on the road and our boys in gear so they can go investigate our convenient little disturbance report? Let's go kick our enemies where the sun don't shine, and may justice prevail!"
"Animated little creature, isn't he? Such interesting turns of phrases he has," observed the mage wryly.
"Yes, but he does have a point," said the king.
At that point the small party proceeded to make its way out of the impromptu council chamber. The two startled guards the king made his way past seemed surprised at the king's abrupt departure from the chamber. Elissa, of course, followed behind her father, and perhaps they were alarmed at both the tension to be seen radiating from Elissa and her father, as well as by the odd sight of a crow rather tamely making itself at home on her shoulder without jess, lead, or padding of any sort.
"Your Majesty, is all well?" asked one guard in breathless concern.
The king eyed the man appraisingly. "It is only if you consider rumors of men being assassinated in the middle of the night and stuffed in alleyways
‘well’, and by a crossbow, no less!"
The guard of course gasped. "Such weapons are forbidden to any citizen not serving you personally or manning the wall!"
The king smiled grimly. "Precisely."
"Your Majesty, with your permission, I shall inform the head of the royal guard at once! We shall scour the city for signs of these murderers and put an end to it for certain."
The man's look was grim and his countenance resolute, causing the king to favor the man with an approving smile.
"I was rather thinking along the same lines myself. Come, you shall join us as we make our way to the head of the royal guard. Our men are indeed the ideal instrument with which to resolve this matter, should rogue crossbowmen be the culprits here as we suspect, well trained as you fellows are in that particular weapon."
Sorn, for his part, couldn't help but be impressed once again by the exquisite artistry of the portraits, murals, and other objects of art that they passed on their way to the quarters of the royal guard. He did his best to remember the various designs and themes, trying to imprint them in his mind's eye, to better decorate his own quarters, should he ever find his way home.
"Not that mother would even appreciate it," he murmured softly to himself.
"I'm sorry dear crow?" queried a curious looking Elissa, giving the crow on her shoulder a sideways smile as she did so.
"Oh, nothing." Sorn sighed. "My mother just isn't one for art is all. She wouldn't appreciate a fine painting if you banged her on the head with it… not that that's a particularly good idea either, mind you. Grandfather at least appreciates sculpture."
"My," said a smiling Elissa, "you certainly come from a line of sophisticated birds!"
"Princess, you don't know the half of it!"
Elissa giggled at this, earning a very curious look from the guard walking beside them. Elissa couldn't help giggling again under the armsman's incredulous stare, and Sorn found himself adoring the crimson flush of her blushing cheeks.
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