The Crown Of Yensupov (Book 3) (15 page)

Once inside, Saxthor slipped out of the veil of invisibility, which then dissolved. While his companions listened at the doors, Saxthor rushed to where the moonlight, streaming from the high windows, crossed the floor. He positioned his ring to catch the silver rays. Adjusting it for the difficult angle, he focused a beam through the Celestial Fire Topaz.

“Hurry up,” Tournak whispered from the doorway. “The guards are returning. They may come to check the hall at any time.”

Saxthor nodded, but continued as before. What can I do, I can’t hurry moonbeams. The silver light, streaking into the Celestial Fire Topaz turned blue passing out of the crystal. Saxthor kept maneuvering the ring until the beam was strongest, then adjusted it to strike the eye of the throne’s gilded dragon. As the royal blue beam hit the ruby eye, a rich purple flare illuminated the hall. It coalesced into a single reddish purple ray that shot to the far end of the wall opposite. Nothing happened.

“I’m too late for the moon’s angle to reflect on the jewel’s hiding place, he thought. I can’t move the throne or the wall.

As the moon moved across the sky and Tonelia chewed a fingernail, all he could do was make tiny adjustments in the ring’s angle keeping the beam on the wall. He played with the ring and shot the light stream on either side of the initial stone; nothing happened. Try as he did, he couldn’t get the beam to open a stone. Tense, his hand began to tremble making the beam wiggle. Tournak began fidgeting, too.

If I’m too late, I’ll have to stall and try again earlier tomorrow night, Saxthor thought. What if festivities fill the hall earlier tomorrow? What if I can’t finagle an invitation for another night? Stop it. Get control of yourself; you’re a prince of Neuyokkasin. He looked at his companions.

Tonelia froze. He listened; the guards were talking. She had her ear and both hands on the door. Her hand rose. Tournak and Saxthor froze, too. In the next instant, her frantic hands waved to get out of sight.

While trying to get the ring on his finger, Saxthor turned too fast, tripping over a tall iron candle stand. The stand clanked, dancing on the floor before he could grab it. Though but a few clangs, it was enough to alert the sentries. Saxthor and Tournak disappeared in the furnishings, but opening the door, a guard saw Tonelia beside it.

“What’re you doing in here?” the guard asked, his sword sliding from its casing.

“Please don’t be angry, boys,” Tonelia said, with her head bowed. She glanced up, flashing the guards an innocent but seductive smile. “I was cleaning up earlier and dropped something. I just came back to get it. She swished and stuck her fingertip in her mouth. I was trying to be quiet so as not to disturb anyone.” She looked down like a child caught getting a cookie.

“How did you get in?”

“Well, when I came to the hall, you two were arguing over something you’d found on the floor, so I just opened the door and slipped in.” Tonelia bit her lip, then again penitent, looked down.

The guard lowered his sword, studied her, then sheathed the sword and grinned. “What did you lose here?” the second guard asked.

Tonelia looked around pretending to spot the scarf she kicked under a table earlier in case they needed an excuse to get back into the room. “There it is - that scarf there, under the table. May I get it?”

The two guards looked at each other and then the scarf. “Ain’t nobody else asked for it,” the first guard said. His stance softened, warming to Tonelia’s smiles. He turned to the second guard. “She’s ain’t stealing the prince’s silver. That ain’t going to be trouble for us later.” They grinned at each other, the first guard poking the second on the shoulder.

“Go get your scarf, girl, but don’t let us catch you sneaking in here again,” the first guard said. His head nodded with a predatory smile.

Tonelia curtsied. She rushed over to the table and grabbed her scarf, then hurried back to the door. Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled at the guards, then hesitating, tucked the scarf in her blouse. She strolled down the corridor stopping here and there to be sure the guards followed. The guards closed the doors and shadowed her to the staircase.

Saxthor came from behind a great chair and focused the moonbeams through the Celestial Fire Topaz onto the ruby eye that then shot beams to the wall. Enough time had passed, that the beam now struck a different stone. Something in the stone reacted with the light, and the beam turned scarlet. In the next instant, the block dissolved revealing a cavity. The scarlet beam struck the dark Green Emerald of Hope and the stone bathed the room in a brilliant emerald green glow.

Saxthor held the ring just so and motioned Tournak to get the emerald before the beam moved off the cavity. Tournak dashed over, grabbed the emerald from its hiding place, and took it to Saxthor. Saxthor tucked the emerald in his breast pocket. The two men moved to the doors, where they peeked out through a crack. The guards were at the end of the corridor watching Tonelia as she sauntered down the hall with a little wiggle.

“She knows they’re watching her. She’s keeping them away from here as long as possible,” Saxthor said. He drew an invisibility veil around Tournak and himself. The two of them slipped out the door and down the hall to a point opposite the guards. Tonelia was gone from view then, and the guards went back to guard the hall.

“I thought we closed these doors?” the second guard said to the first.

Saxthor looked at Tournak.

“I thought we did too,” the first guard said. “You best be more careful.”

“
Me
!” the second guard said. “What about you?”

The arguing made enough noise that Saxthor and Tournak tiptoed around the corner and to the staircase without notice. Back at their room, the group drank a toast to their success as Tonelia sewed the emerald into Saxthor’s tunic.

“Go to bed and get what rest we can. We need to get out of Prertsten Palace as soon as possible this morning,” Saxthor said. “Tonelia, you’re one clever lady.”

“Who, me?” she said batting her eyelashes above a coy smile. “Why, whatever could you mean?”

“One more thing, no one should ever mention this to Bodrin.”

“Agreed,” Tournak said.

* * *

The Dark Lord’s eyes narrowed. I sense someone has used ancient elfin magic in Prertsten, he thought. Exactly where, I can’t pinpoint, but there was elfin magic at work in Prertsten that shouldn’t be there. As I remember, there have been unusual power surges and unexplained events I’ve not paid much attention to. Several years back, there was that unexplained power flash in the Highback Mountains that I never sourced. Didn’t the witch chase some Neuyokkasinian prince to Tixos, insisting he had some special power? Is there something to Earwig’s failed obsessive attacks on the obscure prince?

I discounted it at the time, but I wonder if there was a connection with the sudden appearance of a Neuyokkasinian prince in Graushdemheimer. It’s time I found out about this strange energy, its purpose in Prertsten, and if there is a relationship to this mysterious prince.

Hoya, Talok Tower, Tossledorn, Memlatec’s sudden appearance at Hoya, Hern – there’s a chain of events. How did Memlatec know about the wraith in Hoya? Then there were those reports of a Neuyokkasinian prince surfacing in Graushdemheimer. No member of the Neuyokkasinian royal family has set foot there in generations. There was that abrupt disappearance of my agent in Hador, a small band of subversives burning the boats at Feldrik Fortress, and now something going on in Prertsten. Were these events connected?

The Dark Lord frowned as his boney finger followed the sequential incidents on his map of the peninsula.

These aren’t isolated coincidences; they’re connected, he thought. Memlatec is up to something. Somehow, the energy trails, the destruction of the infiltrations coincide with this prince’s appearance.

I must dispatch a wraith to find the power’s source. Someone is up to something in the area under my control, and I want to know who and what that is. “Smegdor!”

“Yes, Master,” the aide said, from the workroom doorway.

“The witch Earwig has reported for months that her nephew is still alive after disappearing off of Tixos years ago. Is it possible the bumbling witch is right in her ravings?”

“One never knows what to believe from her, Master. Of what consequence is a minor Neuyokkasinian prince? As I remember, he’s not even crown prince.”

“I’ll send a wraith to Prertsten to investigate the energy flux and another to talk with the mad witch. We’ll see what she might know. Perhaps it can keep Memlatec under closer observation, too.”

“Shall I summon two wraiths, master?”

“Yes,” the Evil One said. “There’s something going on under my nose. I need to know what it is before I unleash my armies on the peninsula.”

Saber Wolves

Next morning, the adventurers woke and had a veritable feast with the kitchen staff. They heard the official in charge of entertainment, who’d hired them, was cheap, keeping portions of fees for himself. They warned Saxthor that if he hadn’t gotten his fee in advance, the official would cheat him. Fearing entrapment after seeing the prince’s interest in Tonelia, Saxthor decided to anger the man so he’d expel them before the prince awoke.

After they’d eaten, the master of entertainment came and paid Saxthor for his troupe’s performance. Saxthor bowed, but frowned. He thanked the Master of Entertainment through a sneer but tossed the coins in his hand, looking at them.

“What’s the matter?” the official asked. He crossed his arms and stepped back. “Not enough for you?”

“We really should get a larger fee,” Saxthor said. “We could’ve made more than that in the streets among the common people for such a performance.”

The official puffed up, pleased with himself.

“Well, that’s all you’re going to get. If you’re not happy with the pay, you can stop eating our food and get out of the palace. I should take out for the meal you just ate.”

“No, no, Sir,” Saxthor said. He tucked the coins in his belt and bowed. “This will do. We’ll be on our way now.”

The entertainment master smirked and left.

“He’s pocketed the difference in, what he paid you, and what he got to pay you,” a kitchen helper said.

“Yes, I know. We’ll just have to make up for the shortage performing in the city.” Saxthor turned to the others. “Hurry, get the gear. We’re leaving.”

Reassembled, they followed an attendant to a service entrance at the kitchen’s far end. Without any ceremony, the troupe hurried out through the guards’ room into the streets of Prertsten.

“Why did you let that official take advantage of us like that?” Tonelia asked, when they stopped to rest not far from the city gates.

“You danced too well last night.”

Tonelia became animated. She beamed at Saxthor. “You think so?”

“Yes, but right now we need to keep moving. You impressed Prince Pindradese. He might want to see more of you. I don’t think you’d like that.”

Tonelia looked puzzled for a moment, then blushing, jerked her head up, looking at Saxthor. “Oh … I see what you mean … Let’s go.”

Saxthor lifted her chin and smiled. “Bodrin is a lucky man.”

“Yeah - let’s go.” Tonelia took the lead toward the city gate.

They quickly made their way through the streets stopping occasionally to do a short performance so their purpose in the city was convincing. Between the street performance rewards and the prince’s fee, they were able to replenish their depleted supplies before leaving the capital.

The guards at the gate remembered the troupe and didn’t harass them, when leaving. A few choice taunts about venison would do before the troupe passed out of the guards’ sight and hearing.

“Look at Bodrin,” Saxthor said, as the returning group sighted him before he spotted them. Bodrin was pacing up and down in the clearing with Delia, panting and pacing beside him.

“Where’ve you been?” Bodrin asked. “I was about to come rescue you.”

When she saw him, Delia broke ranks and, with ears flying and tail wagging, ran to Saxthor, demanding instant attention.

“Dragons and wraiths can wait,” Bodrin said. “Delia’s going to lick Saxthor’s skin off. He’s not going to slip away from her like that again.”

“I promised never to leave her, and she’s going to see to it that I live up to that,” Saxthor said. He was petting her, while trying to convince her to stop jumping up, then he looked up to see Twit, watching the people.

“Look at Twit, looking down on all the fawning with condescension. For him the trip to the city was a nonevent, and Delia is just spoiling me.”

Hendrel and Tournak laughed.

“It just took longer than expected, Bodrin,” Tonelia said, through a comforting smile.

“We were in and out of the enemy’s second most powerful fortress-city, where Tonelia got to dance for the prince. Saxthor only vaporized one guard,” Hendrel said grinning.

“Danced for the prince?” Bodrin said, taking his arm from around Tonelia’s waist. He looked at her with raised eyebrows.

“It was for the cause, Bodrin,” Saxthor said. “It was nothing like what you think.” He turned to Hendrel, who was looking sheepish. “You should be ashamed of yourself for upsetting Bodrin so.”

“Oh, I am, I’m absolutely ashamed,” Hendrel said, but then he broke out laughing. “Astorax is the hero and he also earned us our supplies.”

“I should’ve stayed in the forest of Heggolstockin, where I only had to deal with the hostile villagers of Girdane,” Astorax said. “I can see I joined the wrong group.” The band broke out laughing.

It’s good seeing everyone so happy to be together again, Saxthor thought. This reunion has relieved the tension from last night’s hair-raising experiences. He looked over at Astorax who was introspective and sad. Saxthor went to him, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Something’s wrong?”

Astorax looked up at Saxthor. “Spending last night in the stable, with the horses, wasn’t very pleasant.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Saxthor said, and he put his arm around Astorax’s shoulder and neck in a half-hug. Astorax relaxed and, feeling better, put his arm around Saxthor’s waist. Suddenly, entwined side to side, the two danced around in a circle with outer arms extended.

After extensive greetings among the reunited companions, they repacked their gear and headed back down through the forest scrub along the stream. They avoided discovery, traveling back through Prertsten’s woods, and safely reached the grasslands once again.

“We’ll be heading south now. Seems that we must go back through Sengenwha,” Saxthor said.

“I’m not anxious to go through that wilderness again. Left us too exposed,” Hendrel said. “South it is.”

They followed the Akkin River, trying not to leave tracks, knowing the orcs were traveling along the river as well. They were still in Prertsten. Capture would mean immediate death.

“Stay hidden in this wooded strip between the Akkin and the sparse scrub to our right,” Saxthor said. “The orcs are moving along the open land at the wood’s edge, they can move faster, but we must stay out of sight.

Tonelia wiped her brow, and looked up at the sky for signs of clouds or rain. Then she looked down at the river. “I hope we don’t run out of water. We’ll have to replenish from streams. I’m not drinking river water, draining from the Edros Swamps.”

Halfway down the Akkin, the adventurers encountered a dark low area. The tree canopy was thick, with roots anchored in moist soil.

“The Akkin’s foul water is filtered through the mud, but even so, the tree leaves have a black tint to them,” Tournak said. “The ground is even a charcoal color, where the floods receded leaving the tree trunks coated in the black Edros sediment.”

“It’s the most depressing place I can remember,” Bodrin said. “Even the light tone is gloomy.”

At the same time, Hendrel and Astorax both stepped into some leaves covering quicksand. “Help!”

The others pulled them out, but they had churned up the area.

“We can’t hide this mess,” Saxthor said.

“Well, we’ll just have to move fast and hope the orcs don’t choose this foul place to venture down to the river,” Bodrin said.

*

Unfortunately, foul dark places were no problem for orcs, who came looking for game.

“What’s that over there?” an orc said, looking for tracks.

Another orc went to inspect closer. “There’s deer tracks here, musta got stuck in the mud and struggled to get out.” Half a dozen hunting orcs rushed over.

“We ain’t had no deer meat in ages,” an orc said. “Let’s go up on the ridge and get the four saber-wolves to track it,” the leader said.

The orc came back with two more orcs, each restraining two saber-wolves on chains, which prevented the vicious creatures from tearing out the other orcs’ throats. Only the two orcs that fed them daily could approach or control the beasts. All the trackers moved back away from the muddy lowland disturbance, as the saber-wolves approached.

“Now them beasts will be useful for a change,” a hunter said. Another grumbled and nodded. “Them beasts will track that deer for us, if they knows what’s good for ’em.”

As soon as the saber-wolves got close to the quicksand, they started sniffing left and right for the trail. When they determined where it led, they jerked at their restraints.

“They gots the scent,” a wolf handler said.

The wolves howled and dragged the orc-handlers restraining them through the lowlands’ dark gray litter.

* * *

“I hear wolves!” Astorax said, turning to pinpoint the source better.

Hendrel looked about, listening. “I don’t hear anything.”

“To avoid capture, I’ve long had to listen for the sounds of dogs hunting deer in my native mountains,” Astorax said. “Those are the howls of hunting wolves on our trail, but they’re louder, longer, and deeper than any dogs I’ve ever heard before.”

“I still don’t hear anything,” Hendrel said.

“Listen!” Astorax exclaimed to the others.

Everyone turned to the direction Astorax was facing and listened for what alarmed him. Before long, the others heard the distant baying of hunting animals.

“It could be a pack of wild dogs, but it sounds much worse,” Saxthor said. “It could also be the sound of hunting saber-wolves. If it’s saber-wolves, they’ll be with the orcs, marching south to Sengenwha.”

“We could climb into the trees if it’s just dogs or wolves alone,” Hendrel said. He then looked at Astorax’s hooves. “Maybe the tree idea won’t work.”

“If it’s saber-wolves, they won’t be alone,” Bodrin said. “I killed one of those things. They won’t give up if they trap us in trees.”

“If they're saber-wolves, they’ll bring the orcs down on us,” Saxthor said.

Tonelia shuddered. “That soul-wrenching howling seems to rip deeper into me.

“Well, we can’t afford for the orcs to discover us in any case,” Saxthor said.

“We must cross the river, if we’re to escape without discovery and fighting,” Astorax said. “We can’t stay on this side of the river; the saber-wolves will track us down.”

“Let’s get going, they’re close. We’ve little time to get away before they see us,” Saxthor said.

Leading the way, Astorax headed east toward the river. The fugitives soon worked their way to the Akkin through the foul mud left by the floods. The deer-man skirted the soft mud so at least the tracking orcs couldn’t see how many people were ‘chasing’ the deer. He hoped they wouldn’t see Tonelia’s small tracks that would alert them to the presence of a woman. Traveling through the underbrush, Astorax spotted a dry log lying, where it settled on the riverbank.

“Look there!” Astorax said. “The log’s big enough to carry Tonelia and Bodrin. The rest of us will have to swim across the river.”

“I hate the thought of getting into that nasty water,” Tonelia said.

“This is no time to be squeamish,” Saxthor said. “Head for the log.”

As they raced for it, Astorax saw a skunk’s tail pop up on the log’s far side. It was concentrating on scratching out insects and didn’t concern itself with the people rushing for the same log.

“Stop!” Astorax slipped up on the skunk and threw a piece of cloth over it pinning down the skunk’s tail before it could shoot its defensive musk. “I’ll hold it, while the rest of you slide the tree trunk out on the river.”

The rest heaved the log, inching it into the water, where it floated.

“Tonelia, get on the log,” Bodrin said.

Tonelia curled her upper lip. She stared at the dark water and groaned, but then crawled onto the log. As soon as she was seated and holding tight, all the rest pushed the log out into the current and swam with it.

Astorax turned the skunk so its tail pointed up along the bank they’d just come down. Controlling the tail, Astorax let the angry skunk squirt its musk along the fugitives’ tracks. He tossed the thrashing animal up on the bank, where the orcs would come, following the tracks. He stamped his hooves around over the human tracks in the mud, then turned, and dashed into the Akkin’s black waters. The adventurers stayed with the log for almost a mile down the river.

“The orcs wouldn’t pick up our trail this far away should they get past the skunk,” Saxthor said.

They finally abandoned the log and climbed the bank on a fallen tree trunk to avoid leaving tracks in the mud. Astorax went even further downriver before coming out, being careful to move on rocks back to the others. From their refuge, the group listened for the orcs and saber-wolves. They soon heard the wolves, howling and baying, intent on the chase. Suddenly, it stopped and changed to yelping and whimpering.

“The skunk trick seems to have worked,” Saxthor said.

Bodrin stuck his licked finger in the breeze. “Breeze is coming this way so it’ll have carried the skunk odor away from the wolves until they got into it.” He laughed.