Chapter Eight: Spell of his own

 

   

“Clearly there are forces here I have not anticipated,” Blyord finally said in a voice so cool Ely shuttered.

The wizard’s stern stare fixed on the young prince, as if trying to read beyond what had already been said. “I knew things were bad; I did not know they were this bad.”

The king’s gaze turned in the direction of the wizard, looking puzzled.

“What do you mean?” the king asked.

“I mean we cannot afford to do nothing,” Blyord said.

“Then you think Ely is right that they could assail us here?” the King said. “We have high mountains and well-situated forts. In the past, these have kept us safe.”

“That is not what I mean, sire,” the Wizard said, his sad eyes still looking in Ely’s direction. “I do not think they intend to conquer us in such a way.”

“What way then?”

“Through Prince Ely,” the wizard said. “There is an evil spell on him, but not cast by the Queen of Taffar, a love sickness no doubt contrived by the evil priests of Htam, drawing on the power of the Dales. They would cause us to fight amongst ourselves.”

“You’re as crazy as my father is,” Ely said. “I am under no one’s spells.”

“Would you know if you were?” Blyord asked.

“What can we do?” the King asked.

“We should not let the prince leave Amlor,” the wizard said. “I cannot foresee all that might transpire if he did, but a dark cloud hovers over him, and I fear we might see Amlor fall if the price is not constrained.”

“You cannot keep me If I choose to leave,” Ely said definitely, hand falling to the hilt of his sword as he looked first at Blyord and then the king. “I am still prince in this kingdom, and I have done nothing to betray my oath.”

“But you will,” Blyord said. “That much I can foresee. “We cannot wait for that moment to act.”

“What would you have me do?” the king asked the wizard.

“Hold him,” Blyord said, stepping down from his position near the king and closer to where Ely stood. “I will need time to study the spell and find a counter for it.”

“I am under no spell,” Ely said again, more firmly, this time drawing out his sword from its sheath until the top of the blade showed. “And I’ll not be bound or made prisoner in my own house.”

Blyord eased closer to Ely still more, his gray gaze studying the younger man’s phase.

“And yet you are not yourself, Ely,” the wizard said. “I can see a veil over you that did not exist prior to this.”

Ely stepped back, drawing the sword out even further. The guards to either side of the king moved in front of the throne, drawing their swords, as the other guards neared the door drew theirs and approached from behind.

“I want no blood shed,” Ely said, finally bringing his blade out completely, circling slowly to keep his gaze fixed on the guards as they narrowed the circle around him.

“Ely!” the king shouted. “Put up your sword. You want no blood shed here, nor do I.”

“But you would make me a prisoner for no reason?”

“It is not I,” the King said. “But I must rely on my wizard to recognize spells that I cannot see for myself.”

“But you won’t accept the word of your son when I say I am of a free mind,” Ely said.

“What am I to do?” the king said, his face looking older and graver, as he struggled to determine who to believe. “My wizard says you are cursed with a spell. I must rely on his judgement. So, should you. If he is in error, then we will find out shortly, and put it right. Let’s not spill blood here in this hall for no reason.”

Ely lowered his sword.

“I have trusted Blyord’s judgement in the past,” he said. “I will try to abide by it now. I urge both of you to settle the matter quickly, and once it is determined that I am here of my own volition, I expect to leave the same way – or I promise you, there will be bloodshed.”

“This is an ill circumstance,” the king said, “That I would hear threats from my own son.”

“These are perilous times,” Blyord said. “The priests of Htam have delved long in the dark arts and have learned well how to bend minds.”

“Not mine,” Ely said.

“We shall see,” Blyord said, “if you give me time to do so.”

“What exactly do you suspect?” the king asked.

“That the priest would make a puppet of Ely and use him when he inherits the throne,” Blyord said. “They could seize Amlor without raising a sword.”

“On this one point we agree,” Ely said. “I warned you long ago that we are not safe here even behind thick stone walls. But I am not here as puppet, and challenge you, wizard, to prove otherwise.”

“All the more reason to go with great caution,” the wizard said.  “Come. We’ll talk more about it later.”

The king motioned for guards to escort Ely as the wizard led him from the hall.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Ely asked the wizard as they walked. “You can’t really believe I’m under anybody’s spell.”

“Of course, you’re not,” the wizard said in a harsh whisper. “But you were about to say something that would have put us all in jeopardy with the king.”

“You mean about the sword?”

“Precisely,” the wizard said. “Better the king believe you are under a spell than discover what you really want. He would chop off both our heads – and still might if he finds out.”

 

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