Authors: Phil Stern
Now crying himself, Anson sobbed into his mother’s shoulder.
***
The morning after Lydia first saw Anson in the Throne Hall, she watched the King’s army break camp and troop off toward their confrontation with the Kardens. Distracted and fretful the rest of the day, she embarked on a solitary stroll that evening through the woods a mile from the castle.
Normally a teenage princess would never dare wander off by herself, yet Lydia was far from alone. A huge, tawny panther treaded by her side, sniffing the air for any hint of danger, her two cubs tripping along behind. A nearby herd of wild horses remained in light mental contact, while a single hawk circled attentively above, watching for anything the panther might miss.
In fact, all the animals in the area knew the young royal well, and on occasion had even called on her for assistance. Once she’d saved a baby hawk that had fallen from its nest, and had even helped the mother panther when she herself had been a cub. Liking and trusting her, the animals universally welcomed Lydia’s presence in their midst, never allowing any harm to befall her.
Still, it wasn’t the animal world that drew her thoughts this night. Picturing Anson’s tall, strong form, she imagined him marching off to battle with the others, totally alone with his secret. She wished to help him in some way, but didn’t know how.
Padding along behind her, one of the cubs stepped on a thorn. Yelping in sudden pain, he sat back on his haunches, holding his paw up, the offending twig sticking out. Cooing reassurance, Lydia bent down and gently worked the thorn free, the cub licking her cheek in thanks.
Looking up, Lydia saw Prince Tenen step into view in the middle of the path behind them, just watching, a haughty grin plastered over his gaunt, ugly face. Letting out a sigh, she rose to face him.
She’d known he’d been following her, of course, having received Tenen’s mental image from the circling hawk some twenty minutes before. The horses had already been called off, Lydia not wishing their pretty coats singed by the arrogant prince. Nodding a dismissal, she then watched her three cats slink off into the underbrush, momma panther growling in disdain.
Every once in a while one of the Demons would follow her out, just to see what she was up to. This was the first time, however, Lydia could remember one of her royal cousins showing an interest in her solitary wandering. While not feeling in any danger, it was definitely unusual.
“Lydia,” Tenen began, walking forward a few steps. “It’s a beautiful evening.”
“Indeed it is.”
Strolling closer, he gently touched a branch reaching over the path. “I was wondering if you would consider an offer of marriage.”
Gasping, she held a hand to her throat. Marriage to Tenen? She felt nothing but revulsion. In alarm the mother panther, hiding in the nearby bushes, started forward, but Lydia again warned her away.
“That is an interesting proposal, my Lord,” she smoothly replied. “To what do I owe such an honor?”
Shrugging, he advanced even farther, stopping about ten paces away. They now faced each other directly in the evening twilight, the woods unusually quiet.
“Would we not make a good match?” he asked. “You are a very powerful royal, as am I. The King would doubtless approve. Who knows?” Smiling again, he almost laughed. “I may well succeed our current monarch. You could be the next Queen.”
Groaning, she looked up at the canopy of trees covering the woods, the evening sky softly glowing up above. “Tenen, you’re only twenty. Too young to take a wife, and way too young to become King.”
“But if we became betrothed...”
“And who says I wish to get married at all?” she demanded. “This is absurd!”
“Lydia, we both know you will have to marry one of your royal cousins in order to produce empowered children.”
“I would bet my children would have power no matter who I married!” Once more, images of Anson came before her mind’s eye.
“Please, Lydia. We both know that’s not the way it works.”
At least officially, she silently countered, thinking of Belle’s musings on the genesis of empowered commoners. “Look, Tenen, when the time is right, my mother and I will discuss what’s best for my future. Until then...”
“Ah, yes. The good Princess Aprina,” he rudely interjected. “Lydia, your mother’s welfare would be the best reason of all to become betrothed.”
Pausing, Lydia strained to read his expression in the fading light. “I don’t understand.”
“Your mother has a...a past, shall we say, you may not even be aware of,” Tenen explained. “She now possesses powerful enemies, people very close to our King. What better way to protect her than your own engagement to one of His Majesty’s favorites?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she seethed. “Get away from me!”
“Fine.” Initially turning away, he now rotated back. “But remember, the time will come when you’ll need friends in high places.”
“Like you? I think not.” Breathing heavily, she tried to keep her composure. “Isn’t your place with the army that left this morning?”
“I’ll catch up on one of the Stallions. I’ll be with the army well before it reaches the Outlands.”
The Stallions were a breed of large superhorses that could run at great speeds all day long. Only the royal family could ride them, but Lydia knew the Stallions all detested Tenen. “Well, do be careful, my Lord! Goodbye!”
Lydia’s mock courtesy wasn’t lost on him. “As should you, my Lady. Can I escort you home? It’s getting dark.”
Picking up a stick, she caused it to glow brightly, casting a beam of light to guide her. “I think I can manage.”
“Of course.” Bowing low, he turned and strode down the path away from her. “Think on what I said,” he called out over his shoulder. In a moment Tenen was gone, swallowed up by the now foreboding forest.
***
Tramping along with his unit, Anson watched yet another field of corn slide by. Now in the Kingdom’s rich central farmland, the royal army was still a two day’s march from the north-western frontier, scene of the latest Karden incursion.
Surprisingly, Anson was enjoying his first military foray. After feeling uncomfortably close to the center of royal power in Brenlaw, and then the near-catastrophic encounter with the Demon in the castle, marching off to war felt like a walk in the park. Of course, he sternly reminded himself, that could all change when the first Karden arrow went whistling by his ear. But for now, at least, the current campaign was actually a welcome break from the constant tension of the last several weeks.
The top twenty recruits had been merged with another thirty or so younger soldiers to form a platoon. That evening, Anson found himself sitting around a fire with fifteen other young men, finishing up dinner.
Letting the boisterous conversation flow around him, Anson felt a slight tickle at the edge of his mental perception. Casually looking around the fire, he realized one of the soldiers on the far side, boys a few years older than the recruits, must be a Demon. It could be any one of a dozen young men lounging a short distance away.
So, the Network wasn’t as easily discouraged as he’d hoped, obviously hoping to finish on campaign what had started in the castle.
But now Anson felt more confident of his ability to elude the Demons. Clearly, his own innate sensitivity for power was far keener than anything possessed by those pursuing him. After all, he’d only been detected in the castle after a Demon had actually brushed against him, while the royals themselves seemed blissfully unaware of his presence.
Still, the veil of worry and fear descended once again as Anson laid out his bedroll that night. Sleeping underneath the stars, he fitfully dreamed of the dark-haired royal princess, smiling warmly at him from within endless fields of corn.
***
Three days later the royal army entered the Outlands.
The Kardens let them get a mile into the heavily forested area before striking. After repulsing the initial surge, Anson found himself part of a flanking force sent to attack the Kardens from the side. But the little trolls had anticipated the maneuver. In the midst of their flanking sweep, about half-a-mile from the main force, Anson’s unit was charged by several hundred Karden warriors.
Along the way he’d wondered if he could actually kill the tiny men, but in the heat of battle there was no choice. Anson skewered one through the neck, bashing another with his sword hilt. But now Kardens were swinging through the air on sturdy vines, shooting arrows down onto human heads. His inner clarion sang out, allowing Anson to mentally deflect a deadly projectile at the last moment. Hopefully, with their own hands full, none of his mates had noticed.
Twice more during the next hour Anson was forced to use his power, once to deflect another arrow, and again to reach out and trip a Karden who was about to dispatch one of his fellow soldiers. The man in question, a sturdy, serious corporal named Senter, quickly stood and drove his own sword through the prostrate Karden. Once more Anson’s inner warning signal sounded, but in the heat of battle there was no way to tell exactly why.
Sometime later Anson’s contingent withdrew, suffering fifteen dead and twice as many wounded. Digging trenches into the soft ground, the men prepared to spend the night in hostile country.
Thoughtfully eying Anson shoveling dirt on the far side of the encampment, Senter gingerly touched his slashed cheek, making plans for the next day.
***
That very same evening Lydia and her mother were having a late dinner in their royal apartment. Word had reached the castle by carrier pigeon only an hour before of the day’s clash in the Outlands. Details were still murky, though, leaving everyone on edge.
But Anson’s safety was only one concern for the young princess. Try as she might, Lydia had been unable to banish Prince Tenen’s outlandish warnings from her mind. Gathering her courage, she finally decided to directly address them with Aprina.
“Mother,” Lydia boldly began. “Prince Tenen has made some bizarre allegations about you.”
Pausing only momentarily, Aprina tried to keep her voice level. “And what might those be, dear?”
Briefly Lydia related Tenen’s vague tale of Aprina’s supposed enemies near the King, and the danger her mother could be in. She decided to leave out the prince’s reference to her mother’s “past,” unsure what that could mean.
“He also asked for my hand in marriage,” Lydia concluded, quickly looking downward. “But Mother, I don’t want to marry him!”
“Of course not, dear.” Aprina gave a tense smile. “What else did he say? About these enemies?”
“Nothing specific.” Though trying to appear disinterested, Lydia could tell her mother was concerned. “Just that you may need protection from people in high places.”
“I see.”
“But Mother, that’s ridiculous! You don’t oppose the King! I mean, I know you’re not his biggest fan, but that doesn’t mean anything. Does it?”
“No, dear. There’s nothing to worry about.” Aprina sighed. “Tenen is just teasing you, that’s all.”
“Well, it isn’t very nice.” Stoically, Lydia tried not to fidget with her fork. “He scared me.”
“I’m sorry, dear.” Reaching out, Aprina took her daughter’s hand. “Let’s talk of something else now, all right?”
***
Meanwhile, in the King’s residence, Perno was telling a very different tale to the monarch. Preoccupied with military matters, the King had been unable to see his spymaster until now.
“She plans to poison me?” Incredulous, the King mentally flung a goblet across the room. “Are you sure?”
“Quite, my Lord.” Perno shrugged. “It would appear Aprina’s plans are proceeding more quickly than Your Majesty anticipated.”
“Indeed they are.” The King threw up his arms in frustration. “The battle in the Outlands remains in doubt! If we suffer defeat there, my enemies may be emboldened to act at once!”
“Indeed, my liege.” Perno allowed himself a grim smile. “That they would.”
In truth, Perno knew nothing of any poisoning plot, either by Lydia’s mother or anybody else. As far as he could tell, Aprina was now a loyal member of the royal household.
But that hadn’t always been the case. Years ago, when she was much younger, Aprina had spoken very openly of her opposition to the King’s rule. This was a time when she’d been involved with a group of troublemakers who thought it exciting to stir up trouble.
The monarch had never forgotten, nor forgiven, her impolitic outbursts. It was foolish talk, completely abandoned with the birth of Lydia. Yet this brief, vocal phase had readily allowed Perno’s more recent vilification of Aprina within the monarch’s mind. By this point the unsuspecting King fully accepted Aprina in the role of fervent enemy, bent on his own removal from the Throne.
Such scapegoats were entirely necessary in Perno’s line of work. After all, there was always some sort of treachery at work within the castle walls. Periodic arrests, like the one he was now engineering for Aprina, were essential for keeping everyone on edge, reminding everyone of the King’s ultimate authority.
In fact, Perno had made certain Prince Tenen was aware of the accusations against Aprina. The young upstart was getting too comfortable for Perno’s liking. Better to make sure he, and all the other royals, understood the price of treason, both real and imagined.
Now was just the time for such a lesson. For as the King himself just observed, if the royal army suffered defeat in the Outlands, his own position might become quite tenuous. And if the King was deposed, Perno himself would surely fall as well.
“Arrest Aprina. But do it gently, and quietly, when she’s alone,” the King commanded. “For the good of the Kingdom, I must act!”
“And her daughter?” Perno tried his best to appear troubled. “Do I arrest her as well?”
The King considered. “No,” he finally instructed. “It would look like a vendetta. And Tenen has already asked my permission to marry the girl.”
Perno raised an eyebrow.
“It means nothing,” the King irritably sighed. “Lydia, is that her name? Well, she’s a pretty girl that would bear him many powerful sons. All the young royals would take her as a wife. So would I, if I was their age.”