Chapter 21: The grand plan

 

 

He just sleeps, as if nothing matters, Kristle thought, staring through the door at the young prince on the cot, the chill air filling the hall from the room’s open window, fall quickly giving way to the first signs of winter.

I could kill him now as he sleeps, and no one will be the wiser.

A blade between the ribs, or into the heart, or across his throat.

None of the other guards would know until it already happened, and then death would strike him, too.

His fingers closed tightly around the barrel of his spear, palms sweating, despite the cold, fingers nearly numb for clutching it.

To kill a prince, even a prince he despised grated inside him, going against everything he ever believed, love for Amlor above all else, even love of another prince.

How could he do this evil thing and feel love for anything? Even thinking of it made him feel empty inside, hollow, scared.

Scared like no soldier should feel, especially a soldier in the king’s guard, scared down deep in the bones where truth lay, some inner part of himself telling him it is a wrong deed.

And yet, he heard all the talk of all that has gone on beyond the walls of the castle, beyond the boundaries of his land, of fire and death, slowly approaching, a threat that could bring down the whole of everything he loves, with only a dying and a weak prince to put a halt to it.

If I do not do this, if Ajax is not on the throne when those armies come, then Amlor will fall.

But he could not move, caught in that bind between oath and loyalty, right and wrong caught in a whirlwind inside his head, and in the end, decided he would do his duty.

 

*******

 

Snow through the window touched Ely’s face. He looked confused, tilting his head towards the open window. The rain had turned to snow outside, leaving an inch of white on the inside sill.

And early winter, he thought, and rose, shivering again against the unaccustomed chill, fetching his cloak from the seat of the stool.

His blood had thinned, his bones no longer able to tolerate the change, his body had become divorced from his own kingdom, like one of those petty kings of old who ruled their lands from afar, living in the lap of luxury while their citizens labored to survive.

Still, something about this land intrigued him, something that would not wash out of his blood no matter how many months or years he spent away from it.

A tap came on the door, the only familiar face if only because the man had become his jail keeper.

“Sire?”

“What is it?” Ely asked.

“I have food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

The guard looked nervous, and Ely read something deep in the eyes that disturbed him, some inner conflict that men wage with themselves over some deep issue they might never admit aloud.

“Put the food there,” Ely said, indicating the small table, and as the guard did, a disturbance came from the hall, a raised voice, then the rustle of robes as the wizard appeared through the door.

“Wake up,” the wizard. “We have to talk.”

Blyord motioned for the guard to leave, and the when the guard vanished into the hall again, the wizard pulled over the stool near the bed and sat facing Ely.

“There is news from Land Gate, and you’re not going to like it,” the wizard said.

Ely sat up, attentive

“What kind of news?”

“It seems a messenger from your queen reached Land Gate with an urgent message for you,” the wizard said. “Taffar is under siege, and the queen pleads with you to return south as quickly as possible.”

Ely’s heart skipped a beat, even though he had expected something like this.

“Then it’s time for me to leave,” he said.

“Yes,” the wizard said. “But that’s only part of the problem. It seems agents for Htam pursued the message right to the guard towers of Land Gate. Shortly, their masters will know you are here.”

Ely started to rise, then fell back again.
“All the more reason I have to leave and leave quickly,” he said. “Laithia made it clear to me before I left that my return here must be kept secret. She assumed that Htam would hold back their attack on Taffar rather than endanger the prince and heir of Amlor. If they know I’m not there, then they will attack.”

“If our spies are correct, the attack has already started,” Blyord said. “And no doubt, they will be watching our ports to prevent you from returning to help.”

“Then I’ll have to take another way,” Ely said.

“Going by Land Gate may not be easy,” Blyord said. “Htam apparently has agitated the tribes of Dzafars, spreading rumors of an attack by Amlor. They will lie in wait if you attempt to leave by that route.”

“I must go south one route or another,” Ely said. “I suspect the land route would be more viable.”

“And the more dangerous for you,” Blyord said.

“Violence and death are not uncommon at Land Gate,” Ely said.

“That is not what I meant,” the wizard said. “You’re taking that route takes you perilously close to the sword, and it needs to remain where it is if Amlor is to survive the oncoming onslaught.”

A dark look flashed briefly in Ely’s eyes, then became veiled again.

“You have to promise not to attempt to seize it,” the wizard said.

“How many oaths would you have me swear, if the ones I have already sworn won’t hold?”

“This one will suffice.”

“Or it won’t,” Ely said. “You mentioned the agitated tribes. Has there been an attack?”

“Not yet,” Blyord said. “But one is expected shortly.”

“The king knows of this?”

“Partly,” Blyord said. “I told him nothing about the queen.”

“What has the king done about it?”

“He sent birds with messages to your brother and has ordered more troops from the capital to go there.”

“Could this agitation also be a ploy to drain strength from here in order for a seaward invasion?” Ely asked.

“That thought has occurred to me,” the wizard said. “We would be short handed here if that’s the case.”

“The king could announce a call up.”

“And create a panic, I don’t think he will,” Blyord said. “Even if he did, such an action would take time, more than I suspect we have.”

“I suspect you have other thoughts about my going south that might not be to help the queen there,” Ely said, carefully studying the wizard’s craggy face.

“You always were a good student of mine,” the wizard admitted. “Indeed, if you were to go south by the route you chose, Htam might stand down its attack here, at least, long enough to pursue you and keep you from undoing their advances on Taffar.”

“So, you still want me to go south?”

“More than ever,” the wizard said. “But, as I said, without the sword.”

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