Serafina looked steadily into Blackwell's eyes. Very softly, so softly Blackwell leaned forward to hear, Serafina said, "Dagon holds King Geoffrey's daughter, Princess Electra, prisoner. King Geoffrey will surrender to have her back unharmed. Dagon will be able to extract any price he wishes. Dagon and Helsop will soon be very rich indeed."
Blackwell sat back down, continuing to stare at Serafina. He had heard the story of Princess Electra, kidnapped from her cradle. He knew there had been rumors lately.
"I might be more inclined to believe such a fanciful tale if you were more forthcoming with your identity," Blackwell urged.
"I am called Mother by the Princess Electra. She has been with me since infancy."
Blackwell was stunned. "You kidnapped her?"
"Certainly not," Serafina said, "A thief kidnapped her. I believe he has recently escaped from Geoffrey's dungeon."
Blackwell searched his memory. It seemed there was some rumor of a thief causing a stir in King Geoffrey’s court with information concerning the Princess Electra’s disappearance. "Did you know she was the Princess Electra?"
"Yes," Serafina said. "I am no friend to King Geoffrey."
"But surely…" Blackwell had so many questions he could not decide where to begin.
"I have said what I came to say," Serafina stated. "I must return to Electra."
"Wait," Blackwell said. "I have more questions. Why should I believe such a fantastic story?"
"You may believe or not, as you wish. I must go."
"I could take you prisoner. You said yourself you are a spy."
"That course of action would not encourage my co-operation."
"Will you stay as my guest then? Will you have tea?"
"I would enjoy that," Serafina said, smiling. "But I must not delay. Geoffrey's army is on the move."
Blackwell tried to organize his thoughts. "I need more time. I need to verify your story."
"I, too, wish for the luxury of time," Serafina said. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "But even now it slips away. Time slips away.”
Blackwell felt paralyzed by indecision. As Serafina walked to the door he spoke in a voice that sounded foreign to his own ears. "I will ready my army. Fates help you if you are lying."
"As you wish, M'Lord," Serafina said. "I leave within the hour."
Chapter 34
The Road to Helsop
Under a cold starry sky, Take the Thief fought off sleep as he planned anew his escape from King Geoffrey’s army.
"Er ye still awake, Mate?" the soldier lying next to him asked.
"A bit," Take answered.
"Did you leave a lass behind, then?"
"No, just a softer bed out of the cold."
"An look at meself, married only a fortnight. I'd sure like bein' back in me own bed now, curse this uprisin' an’ aren’t it always us poor folk take the brunt of it when a king gets an itch ta’ fight? Am I right?"
"Right as rain," Take said, watching as a dark rain cloud edged past the quarter moon.
"Are ya’ new to solderin' or 'ave ya’ seen battle afore?"
"Very new, and I'm not what you'd call enthusiastic," the thief said.
The recruit rolled closer to the thief and began to whisper. "I'll tell ya true, Mate, if I thought I'd make it past the guards, I'd be on my way home to my Angie. Do ya think they'd see I was gone?"
"I think they'd just count us among the dead if they did notice."
"Us?" the man whispered.
"I admit, I'm having thoughts along the same lines."
"Tom's the name," the soldier said.
"Call me Take," the thief said.
The two draftees shook hands.
"Tonight then?" Take whispered.
Tom was quiet for a moment, thinking. "Let's wait a while an’ see if the fates be on our side with a bit more a that cloud cover."
Hours later, as damp mist settled over the sleeping soldiers, the two men crawled out of their blankets. They crouched low to the ground, moving quietly to the southern edge of the encampment. Neither spoke or hardly dared to breathe as they neared the guard post. They saw one guard looking south with his back toward them. He stood awhile, then walked to his left until he could see the next sentry on duty, waved to the soldier and walked back to the right.
Take and Tom slithered crab-wise to the left, halfway to the next sentry, took a deep breath and continued to crawl south. After a few hundred yards the two men stood up and looked around fearfully.
"I think we made it out," Tom whispered.
Take smiled in the dark. "If I'd known it was that easy, I'd of done it sooner."
The two men found the road and walked along slowly, feeling their way in the dark.
"Won't my Angie be jumpin' up and down to see me. That King's Guard just took me off the street, they did. Never even got to say me goodbyes. The same fer you, Take? No goodbyes?"
"The same, but in my case I'd no one to take leave of."
"Not even where ya’ was stayin'?"
"I'll be looking for new lodging now. I'm sort of between situations as it were."
"Then ya' make yerself ta' home with Angie an' me till y’a get on somewheres," Tom said.
The thief was moved by Tom's act of generosity and mulled it over in his mind. It could solve some problems but perhaps create others.
"I'll think on it, Tom, but truly, thanks."
They were both relaxed and in good humor, walking briskly along the dark road, as they stepped into the net. It snapped tight around them and flung them up among the branches of a large maple tree. As they hung suspended in air, they heard the voices shouting below.
"Look alive, we've caught something. Careful now in case it be a bear or some big cat. Let 'er down slow."
The thief and Tom were blinded by the glare of torches as their captors peered into the net.
"Well, if it isn't two 'a the King's finest. Out for a stroll were ya'?"
As their eyes adjusted, the two netted soldiers could make out the rag tag blue uniforms of Helsop's militia.
"Deserters from the army, I'll wager," the militia soldier said. "I'd be tempted to let you go, but I can't take the chance you might be spies. It looks like you'll be comin' with us to Helsop for the time being. Be better for ya' anyway. It'd likely go worse for the both a' you if the King was ta' get you back."
"Should have seen it coming," Take muttered as the soldiers tied their hands and led them away.
Chapter 35
Village of Helsop
Serafina urged her horse up the ridge to the summit of the hills that marked Helsop's western border. From here she could look down on the plateau of Helsop. She could see the whole village, the tents around the command post and the rows of small houses backed up against the river that ran out from Helsop’s glacier, visible in the distance as a shimmering white mountain. Below, gathered at the edge of the sloping plateau, was Fernland’s army, a sea of red tunics with red and gold dragon pennants flying.
A few hours behind her, Prince Blackwell’s army moved quickly in a tight formation. Their black and silver uniforms stood out against the spring green of the hills. Before them rode their flag-bearers, carrying the black flags with crossed silver swords. A cloud of dust followed in the army’s wake. It would be close, but if Geoffrey delayed his attack, Prince Blackwell should arrive in time. She supposed Geoffrey would attempt a parley to barter Electra’s return. With Blackwell and Dagon as her allies, Serafina would be able to influence the terms of surrender.
She considered how she might use Prince Blackwell's good will. He was a capable, deliberate man. He was not easily swayed and he did not like impulsive decisions. Her time spent in study with the crystal ball had served her well. She saw that Blackwell feared Dagon’s rise to prominence. Blackwell wanted to keep Helsop dependent on Henge for their survival. He needed a buffer against Fernland. He thought Dagon too ambitious for his liking. This proved to be the key that Serafina needed to put Prince Blackwell’s army i
n motion.
Since meeting Blackwell, Serafina had added to her arsenal of knowledge about his personal traits. He was a man who loved harmony and beauty. Luckily, Serafina had taken pains to appear both beautiful and graceful. She was quite sure Blackwell was smitten with her. She mulled this over and decided he might be very useful indeed. Great power shifts lay ahead and with them great opportunities for both herself and Electra. She smiled as she snapped the reins and began her descent into Helsop.
She rode directly to the command post headquarters. A guard barred her way into Dagon's headquarters.
"I must speak to Dagon at once," she said. "Blackwell's army comes on my heels."
The guard's jaw dropped in surprise. He opened the door to the command post and stepped inside. Serafina saw Dagon and Deimos interrogating two prisoners. One of them was Take the Thief.
"This woman says Blackwell’s army comes on her heels," the guard said.
All four men looked up in surprise. Take the Thief saw Serafina and quickly turned his face away. Serafina paid no attention to him.
"Escort these prisoners back to the stockade," Dagon said.
The guard led Take and Tom away and Deimos took the guard’s place at the door.
"Is this true?" Dagon asked.
"You seem surprised," Serafina said. "I told you of my intentions."
"What could you possibly have told him to change his mind?"
"I told him the truth," Serafina said.
"If you are telling me the truth now, I will not only give you and your daughter your freedom, but safe passage home and Helsop's undying gratitude."
"Your victory over Geoffrey will suffice," Serafina said. "If there is to be a parley, I will need to be present. Prince Blackwell insists on this. You will find me with my daughter."
She heard Dagon summoning his officers as she left the command post.
Chapter 36
Village of Helsop
Electra stood beside a pot of herbs outside the infirmary. She stirred the pot as she watched a woman prepare her father and her son for battle. The boy, in his early teens, looked eager and excited. His mother strapped a dented washboard to his chest. She handed him a kitchen knife secured to the end of a broomstick. She wrapped a cloth around some pieces of metal held against her father’s chest, then tied the cloth in place with twine. Her father told her not to worry, he would look after the boy. The woman said nothing, her troubled eyes followed the pair as they walked off toward the command post to join the bulk of Helsop’s militia.
Electra began to ladle her steeped herbal mixture into various vessels she had found in the infirmary. She wiped her hands on her dress, the same dress she had worn since being captured so many days ago. Electra looked at the disheveled, despairing woman who still watched her son and father walking away, and realized that she, herself, probably looked much the same. Electra glanced down at the stained dress that now fit too loosely on her body. She felt bedraggled and of little use in the face of Helsop’s desperate situation.
The infirmary door opened behind her and turning, she saw Serafina, radiant with beauty. She ran to hug her mother.
"Tell me everything," Electra begged. "Did you meet with this Prince Blackwell of Henge?"
"I did, and the meeting went as planned. All is arranged and in play," Serafina stated, sounding confident. "Dagon and Blackwell will prevail, one way or another. Geoffrey will taste defeat. And," she paused, "you and I will be pivotal in great shifts of power. We have choices to make. Shall we be observers to these events or shall we be participants?"
"You mean we should choose sides and take part in the fighting?" Electra asked.
Serafina shook her head. "No, no, no." She breathed deeply. "We must ask why fate has brought us to this time and place." She paused again to allow Electra time to contemplate this question before she continued. "Let us examine some possible scenarios: Blackwell fancies me. We could rule with him in Henge. Or, another possibility: Dagon promises us Helsop's undying gratitude. We could wield great influence here. But consider this third possibility carefully: Geoffrey will be defeated and vulnerable. By your birthright and with the double blessing of Dagon and Blackwell you could assume the throne of Geoffrey's kingdom."
"By birthright," Electra said slowly. "You are telling me that I should acknowledge King Geoffrey as my father?"
"Your royal status is a fact and does not need acknowledgment. Do not allow yourself to be distracted." Serafina stopped and changed her look of impatience to a smile. She began to speak slowly. "Think of the opportunities here. They may never come again. It is a time for weighty decisions."
"Could we not go back to our old life, free from wars and politics?" Electra asked.
"Not without risk. You have value now to all sides for ransom or political gain. But we could try if that is what you aspire to."
Electra felt sick at heart. She could see that Serafina expected her to seek a position of power. Was she defective in some way to be so devoid of ambition? She tried to consider the possibilities that Serafina presented but she could not. Some tiny spark of defiance rose from deep within her, fanned to flame by hurt and anger. These are not my only alternatives. I have no stake in this struggle for power and dominance, she thought.
"Why did you lead me to believe you were dead?" Electra demanded. "My grief robbed me of the vitality you seem to expect. Why did you continue to garner sympathy with fabricated scars on your face? Why did you keep the truth of my birth from me for so long? I will not be pushed in a direction of your choosing. Perhaps it is you who must decide why fate has brought you to this time and place, not I."
Serafina stood rigid with surprise for a second, then she smiled. "Well said, my daughter. I will leave you now to your own decision." Serafina turned toward the door.
"Mother, do not go." Electra's heart beat wildly within her chest. Her lower lip began to tremble and she fought back the tears that welled at the corners of her eyes.
Serafina looked back at Electra and said gently. "Do not abandon you defiance. Follow your instincts. I have taught you well. Send me word of your decision. I will await word in Blackwell’s camp."
Electra saw a hint of moisture gather in her mother’s eyes. Serafina turned and rushed through the infirmary door.
Electra sat down on a rock beside her pot of herbs and wept uncontrollably. Above the ragged sound of her sobbing came a shout from the infirmary.
"The battle is joined. Geoffrey's archers are advancing. Make ready for our wounded."
Chapter 37
Village of Helsop
Prince Blackwell rode at the head of his army, his mount a sleek black stallion with silver ribbons braided into his mane. His saddle was polished black leather with silver trim. An ornate carriage, painted a glossy black with silver trim, kept pace beside him. Inside the carriage sat his father, Phinneas Blackwell the Elder. The elder Blackwell periodically stuck his head out the carriage window, checking on their progress and gesturing excitedly.
They were close to the summit of the last hill before Helsop. From that summit they would be able to see the Helsop plateau. Two riders wearing black uniforms with silver trim came riding over the hill in front of them.
"Finally," Prince Blackwell said aloud.
Before leaving Henge, he had sent the two men ahead with orders to follow the mysterious woman who claimed she had reared the Princess Electra as her own daughter. He was anxious to hear their report on her activities since leaving Henge. He held up his arm and the whole army slowed to a halt.
As the riders drew close, his father climbed down from his carriage, waving off his driver’s attempts to help him.
"What is it?" the elder Blackwell demanded. "Why are we stopping?"
Prince Blackwell ignored his father and turned his attention to the scouts.
"What have you learned?" he asked.
"The woman went first to Dagon and then to speak to a girl making herbal medicines for the infirmary. The woman told Dagon tha
t Henge was sending its army to fight beside Helsop. Because of this we were welcomed as allies in the village."
"What did you learn of the girl in the infirmary?" Prince Blackwell asked.
"She came as a prisoner, captured in Fernland, then began work as a healer. Some call her El. All there believe the woman to be her mother. They say the woman was scarred when she first appeared in the village, and she is thought to be a sorceress."
"Where is the woman now?" the Prince asked.
"We followed her out of the village just as the battle began, but we lost her in the hills."
"What?" Blackwell said, clutching his reins tightly.
"I’m sorry, Your Highness. I don’t know how we could have lost her."
"Not that, you fool," Prince Blackwell said. "You say the battle has begun?"
"Yes, Sire, King Geoffrey’s archers advanced and let go the first volley as we followed the woman out of the village."
"What is all this talk of women?" Blackwell’s father shouted up to the three on horseback. "The battle has begun. We need to move forward at full speed."
"We need to return to Henge," Prince Blackwell said, "We have been deceived."
"Have you lost your senses?" his father shouted.
"Father, it is too complicated to explain here," the Prince said. "There was to be no battle. We are here for political advantage only. King Geoffrey will make short work of Helsop’s militia. It is not our fight."
His father looked at him with eyes full of fury. "I will kill myself before I retreat again from Geoffrey.” He pulled a short knife from its holster, plunged it into his tunic and collapsed.
Blackwell jumped from his horse, picked his father up from where he had fallen and placed him in the carriage yelling, "Get a medic, quickly."
He laid the old man on the seat of the carriage, and gently pulled up his father's tunic to see the wound. His father opened one eye and fingered the stone he had picked up when he had dropped to the ground. He freed his shoulder from the back of the carriage seat and brought the stone down forcefully on his son’s head. Prince Blackwell slumped to the floor of the carriage.
Blackwell the elder pushed his son aside and scrambled out of the carriage. As the medics approached he waved them in his son’s direction.