Fool's Errand (45 page)

There it was! Thatcher sensed the princess had been like a hunting cat waiting to pounce, and now she had. Apparently goading was a skill not unique to Xyer Garan, but common to a Cyrians, or the noble caste at least. The question now was how their captain would respond.

Gideon’s normal composure left him and he raised his voice well above his diplomatic norm. As he took a step toward the princess, Field Marshal Arian’s sword cleared its scabbard with a quick movement. The Cyrian commander interposed himself between the princess and the paladin.

“This is a lie!” Gideon snapped. “King Paryn chose peace and forgiveness of his brother Cyrus at the end of the war. We have kept that peace. Parynland has been a friend and ally to all the nations of the northwest and has not raised blade against any nation in thirty years.”

Daemius called out for the guards, who entered the room behind them even as Thatcher and Goldain stepped forward to help Gideon regain his composure.

“Calm down, boss,” Thatcher urged his captain. “We are outnumbered and unarmed, and wasn’t it you who told Jeslyn how important it is to keep cool in front of the wrong people. I know she is tugging on your tunic a bit here, but you gotta let it go.”

Tarynna, obviously not finished with her antagonism, reengaged.

“My dear knight, do not be angry with
me
. It is not common practice for rulers to make each and every person in their kingdom aware of their every plot and plan.”

As tensions escalated the sides struggled to avoid an open conflict, Melizar was not idle. He took the opportunity to reach into his pouch and pull forth a substance from his spell bag. Mumbling as subtly as he could the activing words of this
kashaph
spell , he smeared the substance onto his two gloved index fingers and reached within his hood to apply the gooey salve to his eyes, completing the spell. Although his actions were barely noticeable amidst the rest of the general commotion between the conflicting sides, as soon as the spell was cast, Tarynna’s provocative and dismissive attitude toward Gideon ceased and her eyes locked onto Melizar. The corner of one lip fought against a curling snarl, which threatened to overtake it before she regained her composure and ice-cold demeanor.

“My apologies,” Tarynna said in a voice loud enough to cut through the din. “Other duties call. You gentlemen will be escorted back to the hostel where you will remain until the morning. You will be given food and drink courtesy of the Cyrian royal court, but you will be expected first thing in the morning to leave Cyria via the delta less than a day’s ride to the north along the coast.”

“Are we being ejected from Cyria, your majesty?” Goldain asked.

“You will have an escort safely to our borders. My suggestion is that you seek your answers in Parynland as every bit of evidence seems to point to someone there being behind this plot. Good day.”

With that, she spun and quickly exited a small door in the northeast corner of the room followed closely by Daemius. Field Marshal Arian backed his way toward the door, sword still drawn, and followed them out closing the door behind him. The lead guard spoke in a commanding tone.

“You heard the princess. Back to the hostel.”

As they left through the west door into the main hall, Melizar noticed their escort had grown to two-dozen armed guards. Much to his surprise, their weapons were returned before they were escorted out of the palace and immediately back to the walled keep of the State Hostel of Varynia. It did not escape his notice that the guard on the walls was double what it had been the previous evening.

They ate a well-prepared lunch and enjoyed good ale in abundance. Had the rest of the strangeness of the day’s events so far not been so clearly in his mind, Melizar might have thought this no different than any other inn or tavern.

Jeslyn, who had done a remarkable job of holding her tongue throughout the ordeal, finally broke the silence encompassing the groups since they left the palace.

“So, what was all that about?”

Gideon glowered at her and shook his head. Thatcher leaned over to her and Melizar’s keen D’zarik ears picked up his whispered message to the girl.

“Not here. Too many ears.”

She screwed her face into an unattractive scowl and crossed her arms, letting out a subtle, “
Harrumph
.”

“You city people are sure squirrely. When Rajiki have something to say, they say it. All this ‘be quiet,’ ‘wait,’ ‘not now’ is incredibly annoying.”

“Not quite as annoying as a mouthy girl,” Thatcher replied.

Though obviously displeased, the Rajiki girl let the matter drop as they all finished their meal in silence. After lunch Thatcher and Goldain, almost as if they shared their thoughts without speaking, stretched and yawned in an exaggerated fashion.

“Oh man, that ale really hit the spot,” Goldain bellowed. “But I am ready for an afternoon nap.”

“Yeah, me too,” added Thatcher. “Hey, innkeep, what time is dinner?”

“Kitchen’s open ‘til ‘bout two hours after sunset. Ya ain’t ‘et by then, ya git nothin’ ‘till mornin’. Lockdown’s half hour after kitchen closes. No leavin’ the rooms ‘til dawn. Them’s regulations.”

The innkeeper eyed them suspiciously as if expecting trouble, but none was forthcoming.

“Good enough,” remarked Thatcher. “Gives us time for a nap and a game of cards or two before dinner. Guess we will retire to our room for now.”

“As you like,” the guardsman at the door said. “But you are not allowed to leave the hostel until tomorrow morning, princess’ orders.”

They made their way upstairs and were followed by two guardsmen. Melizar also noted another guardsman standing post in the hallway on the second floor about fifteen feet past the door to their room. Goldain smiled at the guard and waved as they entered their room. The guard remained stoic.

Once inside the room, Melizar called them all over to the far west wall farthest from the door and any internal walls. He whispered to the group.

“Thatcher, can you draw out that map for us now while I bring you all up to speed on what I learned?”

Thatcher nodded and pulled his notebook from his pack and began scribbling.

“Given our suspiciously reserved reception,” Melizar continued as Thatcher drew. “I thought it best not to let the opportunity for clarity pass as I did in Aton-Ri. We are in the middle of a mystery now, and we have no idea who we can trust.”

“Opportunity for clarity?” Gideon asked. “What do you mean?”

“I used a subtle
veritas
spell to examine the veracity of our host’s interaction with us. You can imagine my surprise when my spell detected nothing from the princess.”

“So you mean she wasn’t lying?” asked Goldain.

“I mean,” Melizar replied, “that as far as my spell could tell she wasn’t even speaking!”

“How can that be?” Thatcher asked, looking up from his work.

“Keep drawing and I will explain. I told you all before how the
veritas
spell I use works. Truth is blue, red is lies, purple is a half-truth. While Gideon’s words were blue, as expected, I saw no color at all coming from the princess. The fact that I could see Gideon’s words indicated my spell was functioning within normal parameters, but it was like Princess Tarynna was not speaking at all.”

“So what does that mean?” squeaked Jeslyn. “Was she some kind of ghost or something?”

“Hardly, child,” Melizar continued. “It means she was warded in some way by some type of counterspell or enchanted item. The
veritas
spell is a passive magic and will not alert the target in any way that they are being scrutinized because it is not examining them directly but the words that emanate from them. It is what is known as a
non-invasive
divination spell. It is nearly impossible for anyone to know they are being examined.”

“The way she suddenly got busy,” added Thatcher as he put the finishing touches on his sketch. “She figured something out. What do you think tipped her.”

“Very observant, Thatcher,” said Melizar, surprised at the boy’s perceptiveness. “Since there was obviously some type of warding at work, I thought it best to find out more, so I took advantage of the general tumult surrounding Captain Gideon’s outburst to employ a deeper and more powerful
kashaph.
This spell allows me to see magical items or continuing
kashaph
powers. Unlike my
veritas
spell, however, this an
invasive
divination, and if the target has the right detection wards, they will instantly be aware they are being scryed.”

“So that’s why our meeting ended so abruptly.” said Thatcher.

“You are correct. The princess glowed with magic from head to toe, so strongly that it nearly blinded me. She was warded heavily. As soon as I had cast my
kashaph,
she locked onto me. This means she had an anti-detection ward among whatever else she had going. The wards not only nullified my ability to see her words but also showed her she was being scanned and who was doing the scanning.”

“So with all that mumbo-jumbo going on,” Goldain replied, “the princess must have something to hide.”

“Not necessarily,” answered Melizar. “In all fairness, if what she said about the king’s illness and trouble were true, she might well have been heavily warded for her protection. I guarantee I would get exactly the same reading off any noble from my home city. Almost no one who can afford to have it done goes unwarded where I come from.”

Gideon, looking thoughtful, affirmed the statement.

“Melizar is right. Just because she has surrounded herself with protection wards does not indicate a need for suspicion. I would imagine the Sultan of Rajik, the Duke of Darkmoor, or even Mayor Farnsworth would all carry wardings. Truth be told, she has been raised to see my people as the enemy, and we did bring one of their national heroes back to them slung over the back of a horse.”

“For such suspicious people,” Goldain added, grinning, “it’s a wonder they haven’t arrested Melizar on the grounds of general creepiness with this entire mysterious black-hooded-robe thing going on.”

Other than brief smiles from Jeslyn and Thatcher, Goldain’s comment went unanswered.

“Look,” Gideon continued, “maybe she is on the level. Maybe there really is someone in Parynland, or several someones, involved in this. Either way, there is little we can do about this until we can get to Stonehold, regroup with the others, and find out what they discovered. After that, if we still have more questions than answers, we will take our investigation to Paryn’s Gate.”

“Captain, with all due respect,” Melizar interjected, “I have no intention of operating on their timetable or remaining here like sheep while others make decisions for us.”

“I’m not sure I follow you, Melizar. What are you saying?”

“Just that, if you will give me some time to work with young Thatcher, I will see what I can do about taking some initiative of our own.”

“I will not be part of any hostility toward Cyria or its people,” replied Gideon. “Our king has sworn a peace between Parynland and Cyria, so if whatever you are planning involves drawing sword against a Cyrian in anything other than self-defense, then your plans will not include me.”

“Keep your shirt on, Captain,” answered Thatcher, the informality of the comment bringing a shocked look to Gideon’s face. “I don’t think Mel is talking about blasting our way out of here. Unless I miss my guess, he asked me to be a part of this because he is thinking stealth not strength as our main tool in this plan.”

“Right you are, my young friend,” Melizar agreed. “Fear not, Captain Gideon, my goal is to be long past the borders of Cyria before anyone even knows we are missing. Forgive my saying so, however, but the longer we stand around chest-thumping, posturing, and delivering ultimatums to each other, the longer it will take Thatcher and I to complete our planning. Get some rest. I expect we will be traveling all night. After dinner, Thatcher and I will brief you as to what I have in mind and how I plan to accomplish it. Then you can object or posture to your heart’s content.”

Just like that Jeslyn saw the creepy mage and the young thief slip away toward a corner of the room. She rolled her eyes as she watched Thatcher furiously scribbling in his notebook. The two of them were pointing at the notes, whispering back-and-forth and generally acting like a pair of conspirators plotting the takeover of the world.