nodded. A runner was sent to the Palace and he returned several minutes later with a message. The guard opened the massive gate and waved the carriage through.
The carriage rode up to the front of the Royal Palace and stopped. A Palace servant dressed entirely in white, except for an orange and black sash, opened the carriage door. Fredrik stepped out as proudly as he could. The servant closed the carriage door and then led Fredrik inside. The Palace was fairly new and very well decorated. The entry was large and spacious and sported large plants to give the room an outdoor feeling. Paintings lined the walls of the tiled corridors and the doors were made from excellently carved woods with gold scrollwork.
The throne room was large and the floor was completely covered with carpeting as fine as any Lanoirian rug Fredrik had seen. Spaced along the walls were large murals of the seacoast and statues placed between them. The throne, itself, was a gaudy gold chair with orange and black cushioning. Seated on the throne was a small, plump man with a receding hairline. Behind the throne were two women dressed in orange and black dresses. The servant announced Lord Wason and Fredrik realized he was speaking to the King.
Fredrik bowed to King Alfred and waited for a signal to approach. Fredrik had never been before a King and he had no idea what the protocols were, but he behaved as if the King were a god and hoped that whatever he did would not create an offense.
“King Alfred, I greatly appreciate you taking the time to see me without an appointment. I am afraid that our first meeting is marred by my need to ask something of you.”
“Lord Wason, please, I do not stand a great deal on the formalities of the old ways. The last I had heard the Lord of the Manor in Cidal was Lord Alrecht. As your name would indicate that you are not his son, may I ask how you have come unto your Title?”
Lord Alrecht was my uncle, Your Highness. He was murdered by Black Devils passing through Cidal and I am his only heir.”
“You have my sympathies,” the King offered. “I trust the Cidal Mercenary Company avenged his death?”
“Actually, Your Highness, Captain Grecho informed me that the company was unaware of the murder until it was long over and the Black Devils had moved on.”
“A pity,” the King sympathized. “Well, what is it that you wish from me, Lord Wason?”
“I have been chasing a young woman who was staying in my mansion in Cidal,” Fredrik gambled. “It has come to my attention that she was arrested here in the city this very day.”
“It seems to me, if I recall correctly, your uncle used to chase women, as well,” the King joked, “but I think I know of the woman whom you are referring to. A Lady of Caldar has charged her with sorcery. The Lady told me an interesting tale about having her dress ripped off her on the main street of Caldar.”
“That could very well be the same woman, Your Highness. The woman I am after used sorcery on one of my own maids in my own mansion and I have been chasing her ever since.”
“Well, at least I no longer have to feel guilty about executing her for sorcery,” chuckled King Alfred. “Of course, the Lady of Caldar’s word was enough to satisfy me, but your word assures me beyond doubt. I will allow you to witness the execution and then we shall have a great feast for the Lady and yourself.”
A shiver ran through Fredrik’s body. He had not known that the woman whom Niki disrobed in public was the Lady of Caldar. The woman had seen Fredrik with Niki and if she saw him here, he could also be arrested and executed.
“Your Highness,” Fredrik pleaded, “I would request that this woman be turned over to me so that I may have her returned to Cidal to stand trial for her crimes against me and the people of Cidal.”
The King lost his entire jovial mood and went silent. For several long agonizing moments, the only sound in the large, cavernous room was Fredrik’s own breathing.
Finally, the King of Melbin spoke. “You present me with a difficulty, Lord Wason. I have before me a woman who has committed serious crimes in two jurisdictions. Each jurisdiction is a potential ally and vassal of Melbin. Caldar appeared before me first, but Cidal is closer and has the backing of the Cidal Mercenary Company. This is a difficult choice. Would you care to look at the woman and confirm for me that we are, indeed, dealing with the same woman?”
“Certainly, Your Highness,” Fredrik agreed.
A servant and two guards led Fredrik out of the throne room and along a corridor to the rear of the Palace and across the yard almost to the far wall of the estate. Not far from the wall was a large, square plot of land surrounded by a moat, with a flagpole being the only structure above ground. The guards worked a winch that moved a narrow bridge out across the moat and the servant led Fredrik across. The entire island was a series of cages built into the ground, which were exposed to the weather. The servant stopped at the first cage and Fredrik’s heart sunk as stared down at Niki in the cage. She was sleeping and Fredrik did not have the heart to wake her.
Fredrik returned across the bridge and the guards withdrew it. The four men marched back to the throne room and Fredrik addressed the King.
“Your Highness, just seeing the woman again makes me plead that you give preference to my claim towards her.”
King Alfred nodded and laughed. “My Lord Wason, my advisors have come up with a plan to please both Caldar and Cidal. You will be given the woman to take back to Cidal as you requested.”
Fredrik’s heart leaped with joy at avoiding this close call over losing Niki.
“That will be, of course,” the King continued, “after we have executed her to satisfy Caldar’s claim.”
Fredrik’s heart sank and he begged leave from the King’s presence. On the way back to the Fluttering Jib, he tried to think of what he would tell the others.
Chapter 17 Breakout
When Mikal Obanik emerged from the basement of the leather shop, the sky had blackened and the alley was dark. As dark as the alley was, the news from Alcea was even darker. Instead of Alcea preparing to receive its new King, it sounded like the petty interests of rival Lords had taken precedence. Worse than that, King Byron had been assassinated and Queen Marta had fled the city.
Mikal waited a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness and moved down the alley to his next contact. Sounds far behind him in the alley caught his attention and Mikal refused the temptation to turn and look. If someone was following him, there was little he could do until they got closer. Care would have to be taken to make sure that no one knew his contacts, though. Long after Mikal had left the city, his contacts would have to continue living here.
At the end of the alley, Mikal stepped out on the wide street and watched the passing people. Gauging the proper moment, Mikal stepped out and merged with the flow of traffic, hoping to lose his follower. It was only a half-hearted attempt as Mikal was taller than most of the citizens of Melbin and his head would be visible above the crowd, still, the tail would know only the general location when he left the crowd. He worked his way patiently to the opposite side of the street and suddenly ducked into an alley. Walking quickly, Mikal reached the end of the alley and entered another broad street. He turned right on the street and right into the next alley. Halfway up that alley was a door and he opened it and slipped in.
The corridor on the other side of the door was unlighted and Mikal walked cautiously to a doorway at the end. Mikal tapped on the door with a distinctive knock that alerted the occupant on the other side as to whom was calling on him. The dim light that showed under the door was extinguished and Mikal heard a bolt being thrown back and the door opened a crack. Mikal slipped into the room and closed the door. A voice from the other side of the dark room called softly to him. “You have been away for a long time.”
“Matters of importance caused my delay,” Mikal replied softly. “I understand the situation at home is not well. Do you have any information on Mother’s whereabouts or what happened to Father?”
Mikal heard the other occupant of the room trying to use a striker and said, “I need to keep my night vision. The alleys of Melbin are full of rats tonight.”
“Very well,” the mysterious voice answered. “Father’s illness was just part of the Contest. I have no knowledge of the gambler who threw the dice. No one knows the whereabouts of Mother. Some are planning to
