“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” Sholt started. “I wasn’t sure if he was truly needed on such a dangerous venture. I thought that it might have just been kindness on your part that was indulging his fancy. He tends to be a little highly strung, if you haven’t noticed. Confined on a ship, on a long sea voyage, he will become a nuisance, I assure you.”
“No,” Hyden looked the master wizard directly in the eye as his father had taught him to do. “It is more than indulgence, Master Sholt, I assure you. And no one will be more antsy on that ship than I. I trust Phen, and he helps me with Talon. He is fluent in several languages, including Salazarkian, for which I may need him as a translator when we reach the islands. But most importantly, he is my friend, and he really wants to go.”
“I see.” Sholt swirled his nearly empty goblet a few times then downed the last of the wine. “What do you plan to do with the items you find on this expedition? I suppose that is the pertinent question. As scholars and educators in the arcane, we would want to study anything of importance. And I’m sure you know that we don’t want any dangerous items ending up in the wrong places.”
Hyden was certain the high wizard was fishing for information just like Phen had been doing earlier, only with a little more tact. Phen couldn’t have told them yet, and wouldn’t have told them about the Silver Skull. “I assure you that anything of interest to you, Master Sholt, and your colleague, Master Amill, will be handed over once I’ve returned,” Hyden said directly into the man’s eyes. “My interest is only in the adventure of finding the old pirate ship.” And using the Skull of Zorellin to go into the Nethers and get that blasted ring away from the thing that my brother has become. Once I’ve accomplished that you can have the Silver Skull too, for all I care.
“Any scrolls, or texts would find their way to me or Master Amill before any other eyes delved into them, I pray,” the high wizard said seriously. “Neither you nor Phenilous are skilled enough in the arcane to do more than cause harm with something you don’t understand. When it comes to spells, potions, and artifacts, extreme caution and careful study is always the best route to take.”
“Of course, Master,” Hyden said from behind a forced, but convincing smile.
“Then I will inform Phenilous of his good fortune later this evening.” Master Sholt’s smile wasn’t forced at all. The prospect of acquiring new spells and artifacts excited him and set his mind to wandering.
The “tink! tink! tink!” of silver rapping on crystal grabbed everyone’s attention. The feast, it seemed, was about to begin. Oddly, Queen Willa’s place at the head of the table had been given to High King Mikahl. Queen Willa sat at the other end of the table with the round and balding, but extremely capable head of her Blacksword soldiers, General Spyra, on her right and King Jarrek on her immediate left.
Hyden was seated at High King Mikahl’s right hand, next to a large fleshy man who he thought might have been the mayor of Xwarda. Across from him, and to the King’s left, sat Princess Rosa. The aunt, who sat beside the Princess and almost directly across from Hyden, was staring at him with a dark, angry look in her eyes. The white of her knuckles as they squeezed around the handle of her meat knife wasn’t lost on him. Nor was Princess Rosa’s subtle amusement at the discomfort that her aunt was causing him.
He gave her a mock apologetic shrug and sighed. It was going to be a long meal, followed by an even longer, and less interesting series of negotiations masked as polite conversation. Hopefully Phenilous had taken the bait and was researching the Silver Skull of Zorellin. If he was, Hyden mused, at least something was getting done this night.
Chapter Four
“…thes weel intereast yew, Kang Jareek,” Princess Rosa was saying in her heavily accented, girlish voice.
The dinner dishes had just been removed and everyone was anticipating the desserts that were yet to come. Hyden was just glad that there were no more knives left at the table. The daggers in the eyes of Princess Rosa’s Aunt were as sharp as razor blades.
“A men neemed Dreeg, and hes company, are claiming up the iron mines around yer ruined Castlemont, and all threw the rest of Wildermont as weell,” the Princess continued. “It seems that he’s taking your people back to their homeland as slaves to do the werk-the digging and the smething, I thenk mother called it.” She touched a finger to her pouty lips and squeezed her huge dark eyes shut in concentration. “No, smeelting not smething, was whet she said,” she finished with a smile.
The room fell silent for a few long heartbeats. The subject was a tender one for both King Jarrek and High King Mikahl. Her information was welcome, though, and the fact that her mother had obviously told her to tactfully relay the news showed that Queen Rachel might be serious about helping King Jarrek’s cause.
“Dew yew reelly thenk that the zard-men are lizards?” the Princess asked High King Mikahl, in an attempt to change the subject.
He started to answer, but Hyden Hawk cut him off. “They are, m’lady.” He gave Mikahl a wink and then focused his full attention on entertaining the Princess. “They were a prominent race once. According to the writings of one Urfell Nevlen, the Westlanders attempted to kill them off a few hundred years ago. Up until recently, it was believed that they had succeeded. They ride big four- legged lizards called gekas, and they train long beaked swamp dactyls to fight and spy for them.”
The Princess’s expression showed the distaste she held for such slimy scaled creatures.
“Between the zard-men and the breed beasts, taking back Westland will surely be some bloody business,” King Mikahl said, more to himself than to anybody else.
“No less so than freeing my people from that slaver, Ra’Gren,” added King Jarrek with a nod.
“Now, now, sirs!” Queen Willa interjected herself forcefully into the conversation. “I will not have such talk at my table. The Princess was merely musing on the existence of those creatures. All of this blood talk can wait until later. I assure you that there will be a time and place for it, but that time and place is not here, nor is it now.”
Like two scolded boys, the kings mumbled apologies to Queen Willa with chastised looks on their faces. The sight was humorous to some of the ladies at the table, but the subject matter of the previous conversation kept them from doing more than eyeing the two men.
“I understand that you’re leaving on your treasure hunt soon,” someone said to Hyden.
“Aye,” Hyden started to respond, but then remembered his manners. “Um, I mean yes, sir, we are.” It had been the Lord Mayor of Xwarda who had broached the subject.
“Pirates’ treasure is it?” the pudgy, half-inebriated man asked. “It seems to me that, with the people of Wildermont enslaved, and Westland overrun with skeeks and beasts, the timing of this adventure is… well…well it’s just odd.”
Hyden looked at him coolly. There was a gravy spill on the man’s collar where his second chin mushroomed up out of the straining garment he wore. Hyden pointed at the stain conspiratorially as he responded.
“The amount of wealth that was supposedly on that ship is more than enough to buy back every single one of King Jarrek’s people,” said Hyden. It was a lie, but it sounded good. “Not that I would recommend buying them back. The High King and King Jarrek need the coin though; Highwander as well. Soldiers, carpenters, and lumbermen all have to feed what is left of their families while we rebuild.”
Queen Willa rescued Hyden from having to dig himself further into the conversation. “Lord Mayor, do not forget that Hyden Hawk is not a kingdom born man,” she scolded. Her narrowed brows and severe tone cowed the man, but she went on anyway. “He has already bested Dahg Mahn’s tower, saved Xwarda from the dragon’s wrath, and helped High King Mikahl destroy that foul wizard Pael. I think that if he wanted to build a ladder up to the moon it would be none of our concern.”
Silence again.
“Yeer Highness,” the Princess gamely tried again to gain the High King’s attention. “Deed you reelly fight the daemon-wizard from the back of a magical horse weth wings of fire?”
Hearing it from the mouth of the dreamy-eyed girl made it sound absurd, but it was true. Mikahl did fight the demon-wizard and his dark minions from the back of the bright horse. Humble by nature, Mikahl couldn’t find words. What was worse, the table had gone quiet in expectation of some boasting tale. He fingered his dragon bone medallion, trying to avoid the Princess’s gaze because he didn’t want to flush with embarrassment in front of the whole table. Knowing that she’d seen him naked as a jay this afternoon was too much at the moment. Luckily he was saved from having to respond to her awkward question by the arrival of a train of servants bringing in the
