Matderi and Abvi. My skill calls for quite the premium wage.
Pantros set five gold coins on the counter. “I expected as much.”
The jeweler’s eyes brightened at the sight of the gold. By her reaction, Pantros could tell he’d offered far too much.
The sun was rising by the time Pantros returned to the Rampant Gelding. The knight’s carriage sat in the street in front of the Inn. Marc was loading his guitar and Sheillene’s pack and waved to him.
“We figured you would be out,” the giant said. “Estephan is inside; he wanted to talk to us when you got here.”
The prince’s presence made Pantros only slightly nervous. He resisted the urge to check on the two gems tucked under his shirt. There was no way he’d been caught.
Inside Estephan sat at the end of a large table. David and Meredith sat to his left. Sheillene, Thomas and Tara all sat close as well. Otherwise the taproom was completely empty. Marc and Pantros took seats and then Estephan stood.
“My father is dying,” He said. Pantros, like everyone else at the table, started to voice his condolences, but Estephan silenced them with a gesture and continued. “I have to stay here and attend him, but I need a message taken to my brother in Melnith. He’s serving as an Ambassador, but he is two years older than me, which means when my father dies, my brother Reginald will be King. I’m giving you my carriage for the journey.”
“You want us to tell your brother?” Pantros asked.
“No, that would be asking too much. I am simply asking you to deliver a letter to him.” Estephan pushed a folded piece of parchment towards Sheillene. The letter had a wax bead on it bearing arms, probably those of the kingdom. “Lady Sheillene, I charge you with this missive,” he said.
“Yes, Highness. It’ll get there as fast as I can,” Sheillene said. “Do you have fresh horses stationed along the Abvian Highway?”
“No,” Estephan said. “I’m sending extra gold with the drivers. They’re going to try to trade for fresh horses when they can. Pantros, I’m charging you with securing the gold. You seem to be an expert in that area.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” Pantros was already regretting his early morning job, but he didn’t know how to undo it. Clearly, he wouldn’t have time get to the palace and back and even if he could, there would be more people in the great hall at this time of day. He pondered handing the ruby to Estephan, but knew that it was not the time for it, if there ever was a time for it, which he doubted.
“I’m going with them,” David said.
“I won’t order you to,” the prince said. “But, you don’t have another cycle at the Abandoned Arch for three seasons, so you are free to go where you will. Your leg is better?”
“I know one of the Tempests by the south docks, they aided the healing a little,” David said. “I could dance, well, if I could dance.”
“I’ve seen him try,” Meredith said. “A one-legged minotaur would have more grace.”
“It’s time I returned to the palace,” the prince said. “Your carriage should be ready for you to be on your way as well.”
CHAPTER 18: LADY GLACIA
Lady Glacia stood on her private balcony overlooking her holding in Demia. The cool breeze off her ice caves kept her palace comfortable. The only ice in Demia and it was hers. To her, it was what made her territories so special. Others, with ambitions, wanted it because it bordered directly on the lands of the King of Demia.
By concentrating a little, Glacia could focus her eyes on the distant lands, several leagues away. She set so many plans in motion every day, usually for her own amusement. The Murdread plans were finally coming to their ultimate fruition. Far away, at the gates to the King’s Palace, a very small army bearing Murdread’s sigil was pushing through a weak defense. The gates had already fallen and in the courtyard, pockets of defenders were struggling in vain.
A small demon glided down onto her balcony. Refocusing to her immediate surroundings, she held out her hand and summoned her icicle staff. It materialized in her hand with its point already barely penetrating the new arrival’s throat.
“You are not as wise as I believed, Kirvel,” she said, glancing at him then focusing her sight back on the battle in the distance. She left her staff in the demon’s throat, letting it draw a small trickle of blood.
“As you predicted Osris is not reacting to the incursion on his land,” Kirvel said in a strained voice, as if he were being careful not to move his throat. His fear of her would keep him from backing away from the staff. Fear had its uses.
“Those are my guards down there in Osris’s tabards.” Glacia said. “Is their performance believable?”
“I wouldn’t have guessed. Murdread has no reason to suspect the battle is anything other than it appears,” Kirvel replied. Glacia pulled her staff away, but kept it with her. “Why are your guards defending the King’s lands?”
“Because the King seems to have lost interest,” Glacia said. “His days are numbered, but I am retaining control over exactly what that number is. His entire staff, from his guards to the imps that handle his waste, is under my influence. I am awaiting a suitable replacement. So far, the candidates here are not pleasing to me.”
“But, you let Murdread into the King’s Palace,” Kirvel said. “Surely you are not going to let him take control.”
“No,” Glacia said. “But that’s where your knowledge of my plans ends. Thank you for your service. You will be rewarded when this has played to fruition. Be gone!” She pointed her staff back towards Kirvel, sure to hold the bloodied tip before his eyes. She didn’t even watch as he flew away, keeping her sight on the King’s courtyard. That courtyard was as far as her guards would let Murdread penetrate the palace. The gate was in that courtyard, which is what Murdread was after. Still, he hadn’t yet acquired the Key. She considered how involved she wanted to be to see that he did get the Key.
Once Murdread opened the gate to Mealth, he would no longer be a nuisance to her, but the timing had to be just right.
CHAPTER 19: CHARLES
Two Unicorns stood outside the Gypsy’s camp. Both had white coats and golden horns. The larger one’s mane and tail-tip were blue while the smaller one’s were pink. Charles stood beside them, along with Jonah.
“The colors are dyed,” Jonah said. “It helps them tell each other apart. Otherwise all Unicorns are as white as new snow and have the same golden horn, though their eyes vary from azure to blue.” The smile on Jonah’s face told Charles that last part was some kind of joke.
Until a moment before, Charles had thought Silon and Chelle to be human, just like the rest of the Gypsies. They’d invited him to join them outside the camp. When he’d arrived they’d introduced themselves then promptly shifted forms. It hadn’t been a shift so much as an instantaneous replacement. There wasn’t even a flash, just a slight whoosh sound as the air was forced to change shape around the Unicorns. The Unicorns themselves were not what Charles had expected either. Their long legs could almost make them look like horses from a hundred paces away on a foggy day after half a dozen drinks, but up close they looked nothing like horses as the legends described them. Their heads were wider than a horse, though they narrowed more at the nose and mouth than a horse. Their manes were more like a lion’s mane than a horse's and their tails were distinctly leonine. Their legs were thicker than a horse's and ended in tufted cloven hooves. The tufts were dyed on the smaller Unicorn but not the larger. It was also very clear that the larger of the two was male.
“They can’t speak?” Charles asked.
“They can make noise,” Jonah said. The Unicorns bleated then growled. Silon, the larger one, then roared.
