Authors: Jeffrey Quyle
“Is this a friend, my lady?” the officer asked Salem.
“He is, major. He is a staunch and strong ally,” Salem vouched quickly for Alec, placing her hand trustingly on his arm. “I would not be here, would not even be alive, were it not for this man.”
“We are pleased to see you. All the members of the palace guards would cheer if they knew you stood within the palace grounds, Lady Salem. Rumor placed you far away, on the road in the wilderness,” the man said. “Are you here to see General Filpon? Has he invited you to come back to serve us?”
“No,” Salem answered without faltering. “I chose to come back on my own, to find out what the state of the palace is at the moment.” Alec was proud and impressed by the surety in her voice and the confidence she displayed in her poise; she had no idea of what was occurring around them, but she was speaking as if she were the rule
r
of the palace.
“What is the status here in the city?” she asked. “I understand Quisel is dead. What is happening with Bened?”
“Well, you obviously know that there is a virtual civil war going on within the palace grounds,” the officer said, to a few murmured sounds of agreement. “Trayma has gone crazy, talking about ghosts and betrayal – as if he is one to talk. He had Quisel executed, and then he tried to do the same to Bened, but the general got wind of it, and has gathered forces around himself. Trayma has gathered forces around himself.
“Many of us are at a loss to know which is the lesser of the two evils. But if General Filpon is
ready to back your restoration,”
he let his words tail off hopefully.
“Major Bray, I would like to see General Filpon to talk with him,” Salem answered. Alec felt Andi’s relief and anger, and he grinned again.
“Is this man a fighter or a clown? All he does is gape like a mindless idiot,” Bray said, looking at and misunderstanding Alec’s smile once again.
Alec took a deep breath, and waited for Salem to answer.
“I cannot tell you enough about the power and the wisdom of Alec,” Salem answered. “Do not ever underestimate him. Now, please take me to see General Filpon.”
“I will take you, but we have a guard around the General to protect him in these circumstances,” Bray answered. “Your friend must wait out here.”
“Go on,” Alec answered immediately. He held out his hand to rest in on Salem’s arm
. Do you trust this man? I will accompany you if you want my protection.
Salem’s eyes locked with Alec’s.
These are my people, and I know these are the men I can trust; I must show that trust to them now, if I am going to ask them to support me.
Well said
, Alec acknowledged. “I’ll wait here and perhaps spar with some of the guards if they’ll honor me with the opportunity,” he said aloud, withdrawing his touch from Salem. He felt as though he was seeing her become a different person, a stronger woman who was a natural leader rising to the need of her city.
“We’ll gladly cross blades with your champion,” Bray agreed. “Give the man equipment and be good hosts while the Marchioness goes to talk to the General,” he directed the soldiers around them, then promptly led Salem away into a different part of the armory structure.
Alec and the guards looked at each other, smirking. The smiles of the guards soon turned to serious expressions as they found themselves straining to withstand Alec’s ability to manipulate his blade. After three bouts, they sheepishly agreed to accept his terms of fighting two at once, and it was during one such match, all parties sweating profusely from their exercise, that Lady Salem, Major Bray, and General Filpon re-entered the practice space, putting an end to the fencing.
“He seems pretty serious for a ‘grinning idiot’,” General Filpon said to Bray.
“He handles a weapon well,” Bray agreed, a wooden expression on his face.
“His work with a sword is the least of his weapons,” Salem said. “Did you hear about the fight on Jeweler Lane?”
“The slaughter of the thugs? None of the survivors will tell what really happened, but there were a lot of bodies hauled out of there. The crime rate will be cut in half in the city,” Filpon commented. “Are you saying that your champion had something to do with that?” he asked, as Alec approached, rubbing a towel across his sweaty scalp.
“Alec, this is General Filpon,” Salem introduced. “How should I identify you? I don’t think I know a word that describes all that you are.”
“I am an ingenaire,” Alec said with a smile. “General it is an honor to meet you.”
“Are you part of the group that came through the city three days ago? Why did they leave you behind?” Bray stiffened slightly at the title Alec claimed for himself.
“You’ve heard the title?” Alec asked with great interest. “I am actually chasing a group of ingenairii, a group that I am not part of.”
The name is an ancient one used in tales to frighten children, or that’s what we used to think,” Filpon answered. He held out a hand and shook with Alec, a firm grip providing a statement that the man was as strong and tough as his ramrod straight posture suggested.
“There were strangers who came through the city just a few days ago. They went to a house, slew a young man, and took his wife. When the constables tried to intervene, they were slaughtered – not as efficiently as the thieves in Jewelry Lane were exterminated perhaps, but they were left dead. And then the ingenairii – they called themselves that – left, took another girl, and taunted the police to follow them to Exbury, Erechta, and Yangchoo,” Filpon explained.
“Are those cities nearby? Could I catch up with them, once this situation is settled and Lady Salem rules the city?” Alec asked.
“You think the lady will be back on the throne of the city just like that, as a convenience to you?” Bray asked in astonishment.
Alec felt a sense of uneasiness. “I do think she can retake the throne quickly, but I did not mean to imply anything,” Alec tried to iron out whatever problem his words may have created.
Salem held up a hand. “I understand. Our ingenaire is truly traveling on his own mission, but he has stopped here to help my family in its quest. We should be thankful for the help he has given, and acknowledge that he has other purposes in life beyond Woven’s future.”
“I intend to stay to help the Lady regain the authority she deserves,” Alec said to Bray and Filpon, “please d
on’t misunderstand me. But
I have pledged to avenge another injustice as well, and I mean to keep my promise.” He felt a swelling sense of determination, as though he were even then setting out on a mission.
“Tell me what you need – Trayma to go crazier?, Bened to surrender himself to you? – I’ll find a way to make it happen,” Alec promised.
“Before you dismiss him, let me tell you that I know he can do such things,” Salem spoke loudly and hastily.
Both Filpon and Bray cocked their heads as they appraised Alec.
“We need them both dead, for all the world to see, and so that everyone knows that the Marchioness is responsible for their deaths,” Bray said abruptly.
“That would be crude, but effective,” Filpon agreed.
“General, may I see you and Lady Salem together, privately?” Alec asked. He gave Salem a meaningful look.
Together the three of them left the practice room again, a room that had grown more crowded as more guards came in, responding to the rumors that Salem had returned to the palace.
When they were in an office, Alec closed the door. “If the Lady Salem were seen to personally wield a sword and slay these men, would that be sufficient?” Alec asked Filpon.
“If she were an Amazon warrior who could do that, yes,” Filpon answered. “And maybe where you come from women are raised as warriors, but in Woven, that is not the case. We will support the Marchioness for her wisdom and rightful claim to the throne, not for her valor at arms.”
“But if Bened’s men see Salem fight him and win, they will have no choice but to follow her, will they?” Alec pressed.
“More likely they’ll flee the city. There will be no home for them in Woven; we wouldn’t tolerate traitors returning to the palace, and they know it,” Filpon said.
Alec looked closely at Salem, studying her features intently.
“What is it Alec?” she asked.
Alec closed his eyes, and focused his Healer energies upon his own body. He forced his hair to lengthen, and his face to grow narrow. His facial stubble gently fell from his cheeks and chin, as his chest swelled outward. He opened his eyes to look at Salem’s, startled to notice for the first time how blue they were, then he made his own eyes lighten and change.
Filpon staggered back from Alec, until his back was against the wall. “By the temples, what are you?” he whispered.
“I am the Lady Salem,” Alec replied. “How close is the appearance?”
Filpon’s eyes flew back and forth and back and forth, “Your chin is too large, and your throat apple is too prominent,” he said at last.
Alec stroked his fingers along his chin and throat. “Better?” he asked.
“I don’t know what to say,” Filpon answered.
“Say nothing. Put a pair of guards at the door, and tell the guards the Lady Salem is within. Let no one in or out of the room. I’ll sneak out, go find and slay Trayma and Bened, then come back. Their forces will dissolve in chaos, convinced that the Lady Salem has personally wrought vengeance on them. I’ll come back here, and the Lady Salem can come out of her room. Everyone here will swear that she never left, while those in the palace will swear she was the person who slew her enemies. She’ll be seen as a figure of extraordinary abilities, not to be taken lightly,” Alec felt gleeful joy at the plan he had devised.
“The first question is, how are you going to get out of here as the Marchioness without being seen?” Filpon asked.
In response, Alec made himself invisible, bringing a smile to Salem’s face.
“I’m still here,” Alec said. “For now.”
“My lord,” Salem spoke. “I thank you for this charade you’re carrying out on my behalf. And I would caution you to speak little in your natural voice.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Alec felt himself grin. “General, would you open the door, make sure the guards see the Lady in the room as we leave, and then wait for me to bring back some word of success?”
“It’s as simple as that?” Filpon asked.
“It’s as simple as that, for you,” Alec said.
Filpon looked at Salem, who nodded assent. “Good luck, Alec,” she said softly.
The door opened, and Alec slipped out, as Filpon called the guards into the room, explaining that Alec had climbed out through the small window that was set high in the wall. Alec continued on his own path, past the guard contingent in the practice room and then out into the open space between the armory and the palace proper. As he began to stalk towards a door of the palace, he realized that he had not bothered to ask where he could find Bened.
He knew where Trayma was however, settling the question of which he would go to first. He felt a sudden burst of frustration and anger, which drove him to burst through a door in the palace, startling the guards who had served a desultory watch duty at the door. Alec ran past them unseen, as the pair of men drew their swords and stared at the broken door before them.
Alec ran on, through the storage rooms and back halls of the rear of the palace, past guards who heard light footsteps but saw nothing, then upstairs to the second floor, where crude barricades indicated the demarcation between Trayma’s lines and Bened’s. Alec carefully engaged his Spirit powers in addition to his Light powers, then added his Air powers and lifted himself above the barricades and the guards on either side. He landed and climbed the steps to the third floor, where many guards stood and sat and paced.
It was time, Alec thought, and he steeled himself for what he was about to do. He released his Light powers, and suddenly appeared from nowhere before the guards who protected Trayma. He regretted that he hadn’t asked Salem for her dress, to complete the illusion, but knew the act was too far gone to regret anything now.
“Lady Salem?” a guard asked in astonishment. “Weren’t you banished from Woven? Why are you here?” he questioned.
Alec slashed his sword across the man’s throat, then sliced the chest of a guard nearby on his backswing. He walked forward steadily, his Warrior powers engaged, determined to build the legend of the vengeful Lady Salem. Men were rousing themselves from their astonishment at the appearance and murderous actions of the Lady who was mowing down a bloody crop of guards as she approached Trayma’s chambers.
Guards came at her without reluctance as they saw her stabbing and overcoming their fellows, but she disabled or dealt death to them without suffering any injury or delay. “Trayma,” Alec called, in the most feminine voice he could muster. “Revenge!” he shouted, and he burst through the door of Trayma’s chambers.
Two archers fired arrows simultaneously at Alec as he stepped into the sitting room of Trayma’s chambers. Alec deflected one arrow with his sword, and slapped away the other arrow with his open right hand. The guards in the room gaped in astonishment at the feat, and Alec ran at the archers, knocking them aside and stamping on their bows, snapping them.