* * *
Despite her healthy meal beforehand, Debra still needed to pause partway through. It was well past the moon’s peak before she grew bored. And a little worried that Yannick might die.
After she retired, a healer came and did what she could. Yannick slept through the entire thing.
He was not allowed wander the castle again, and Debra returned almost every day. Yannick resisted, at first. He spouted nonsense at first, then began to tell small truths. He sprinkled these confessions with lies, adding false tactics and making up numbers at whim. Occasionally he would slip up, and give real information, but he hoped Debra would not be able to discern between the two.
On the tenth day Debra did not appear. Yannick was certain that Debra was toying with him. He wanted to rest, but knew that he might not have another chance.
When Yannick had been a boy he had been given free rein to explore the castle. He did not enjoy battle as much as the other boys, and so while they were beating at each other with wooden swords he would explore.
It was during these adventures that he discovered the tunnels. He had been poking been in a seldom used part of the castle, and had heard a bird chirping from one of the chimneys. He set himself to climbing up the narrow passage, when his foot pressed against one of the stones and a doorway at the back of the fireplace opened. He instantly forgot the bird, and crawled through the new entrance.
He discovered almost immediately how dangerous the tunnels could be. He tripped over a thin wire, and had he not been so short, he would have lost a good portion of his head. He was much more careful after that.
The tunnels led to most of the rooms in the castle, and he would sometimes use them to spy on others. He had never been a gossip and did not want anyone else to discover his pathways, so he was always tight-lipped about what he discovered, though he relished in the knowledge. Being so young, he did not understand much of what he saw, and did not realize its significance until he was much older. By the time he was in his teens he had a very clear idea of who could and could not be trusted.
It was these tunnels that Yannick thought of most often during his days of torture, and now that Debra had not come, he made his way to the hidden switch that would open him to the hidden pathways. He prayed to the goddess that it had not discovered and sealed.
He found it in the back of the fireplace. He first tried to push the small stone inwards, but it would not budge. He nearly fell to the ground in despair, but instead retrieved a small spoon which had been left from one of his previous meals of broth, and began to carve away dirt and soot from the switch's edges. When he cleared away as much as he could, he tried again and this time, the block moved smoothly.
The back of the fire pit swung open, revealing a black hole. He would not be able to see, but he had traveled the darkness hundreds of times in the past.
He entered and closed the passage behind him. He moved slowly, making sure to check the ancient traps as he went. He had already decided that his best means of escape was the north tower. It bordered the water, and so there were usually few guards. He could scale the wall, drop into the water and try to swim to the nearby shore. From there he would be able to make his way towards the Sikeran forces.
He did not want to abandon his soldiers, but he saw no other choice. Their only chance was bringing the rest of the army to Yaloran, and disposing of Debra.
He reached the base of the tower and felt for the long stone ladder that would take him to the top. He almost fell twice as he ascended, but managed to catch himself both times, then prop against the wall to rest.
When he finally reached the top he rested again, then put his ear against the closed entrance. When he didn't hear anyone on the other side he breathed a sigh of relief and pulled the small latch to open the door. He peered through, and when he could see no one he opened it rest of the way and passed through.
“I wondered if you would have the courage," Debra said from beside him.
Yannick froze. He turned and saw her sitting on a chair in full armor with her sword across her lap, then looked towards the window. It was several hundred feet to the surface of the water, and he likely wouldn't survive the fall. The pathways behind him offered the same problems. He decided to edge his way to the window and see if a solution came to him.
As he moved towards it, Debra spoke again. “You told me about them, do you remember?” She sighed softly. “It was after that battle by the ruins of Cloud City, the one where you were stabbed in the shoulder. You clutched that cow-head's thorns and kneed him in the groin until he vomited blood.” Debra laughed, her voice like a bell.
“We were drunk, you and I, and you were oh-so-clumsily trying to seduce me. You told me that you had seen me changing once, but you had turned away so as not to sully my honor. That was the first time we made love.” She looked at him sadly.
“You told me all about the tunnels as we lay naked. You told me where to find the switches, and what kind of traps I might encounter.” Then her face turned hard. “I’ve had ten years to study them. I put guards at all the other exits where you might try to make your escape, of course, but this is the one I thought you would use. It took longer than I expected. I thought you’d try to escape by the fourth night.”
“Why let me use the tunnels, then? Why not just block it off and be done with it?” Yannick asked her.
“To prove a point. You cannot escape. You cannot win. All you can hope to do is spare yourself as much pain as possible while you help me kill that bastard child.”
“Are so desperate to see Muda dead?” Yannick asked, trying to buy time.
“He should have died a decade ago!" She snapped at him. "If that idiot maid had not failed to administer the potion properly I would have had no challenge for the throne. But you had to stop her, and then spirit the boy away."
“He was our king’s only child.”
“Our king was a fool! Now he is dead, and I must finish his line.”
Yannick saw then that she would break him. She would torture him, and eventually he would not be able to fight anymore. He would become her tool, and betray the boy he loved.
“I will not be used by you.” Yannick told her.
“You have already lost, Sikeran.” She spat the final word.
Yannick smiled sadly. “It hurts me more than anything you have done in the past months to see how far you have fallen. He will come for you, and when he does I will not be here to save you.” He turned, and threw himself out the window.
Muda, Sophie
“He has been there for almost three months and we have not heard a word from him. We must move towards the capital.” Muda insisted.
They had had this argument a dozen times in the past few days. For all of Muda’s bitterness against his former guardian, he was extremely worried.
“You know we cannot move yet. There is too much we do not know. Perhaps there is some disease we do not know about, or he has been quarantined to protect him from refugees. Perhaps he simply has not been permitted to visit the Lady-Regent.” She told him.
“And perhaps he is rotting in her dungeon. You know he is not safe, you know that he would not go this long without finding a way to contact us. Something is wrong.”
She sighed, then stroked his face. He reached up, and grabbed her hand, desperate.
“He is in trouble,” Muda said finally, “But that is not enough for you, is it? Fine, then. He entered the city under a banner of truce. If he is not returned to us, then we appear weak. If we appear weak, they will hold all the power in any negotiations. You want Sikeran to remain free, you must assure our ability to bargain.”
Sophia knew all of this already, but she did not tell him so. She was even a little proud of him. He was a warrior and politics outside of his realm of experience.
One of her messengers entered the tent. He was breathing heavy and had obviously rushed.
“Drink some water, your message can wait for a moment.” She motioned towards a bowl with cu
ps beside it. The messenger nodded appreciatively, then stepped forward and drank two glasses in quick succession. After he had caught his breath, he continued.
“My lady, the ambassador is dead.” The messenger said.
Sophia looked towards Muda, but his face had become stone.
The messenger continued. “They say that he drank himself to death. He went wandering one night with a bottle of brandy and fell from one of the towers.”
“Do we believe this to be accurate?” Sophia asked.
“Unlikely,” the messenger answered, “No one has been permitted to inspect the body, it was burned after a short funeral following his death. Nor has any contact been allowed with his guard.”
“What do we believe happened?”
“Murder is a possibility, perhaps from a competing faction. Or…” The messenger hesitated. “It has also been rumored that the Lady-Regent has a special affection for interrogations, it is possible that she was over-zealous.”
Sophia looked to Muda again. His expression had not changed, except for a hint of ice within his brown eyes.
“But we have no proof?” Sophia asked.
“No, my lady. Our subterfuge is not as advanced as their own. What little we have heard is mostly rumors.” The messenger replied.
“Very well. I will have a full report within the hour.” Sophia said.
The messenger nodded, and backed out of the tent.
There was silence for a moment, before Muda finally spoke. “We move. Tomorrow.”
Sophia nodded, and they began to plan their attack.
Debra, Ibalize
Debra returned daily to the tower where Yannick had leaped to his death. He should not have jumped. He had ruined everything! She was to have broken him, and then they would see how powerful she was. He was to have divulged all of their secrets and then she could weaken their position. They would have been willing to sacrifice the princeling and would have joined her. She could have turned against her masters, and gained control of her country again. The world was to have been hers, but Yannick had ruined everything!
She turned away from the window and walked towards the stairs. Suddenly a gust of wind blew in from behind her.
“You have failed me yet again.” That voice…it had been so long since she heard that voice...
“Great one,” she stammered, “I did not think that he would jump. He...”
“You could not have guessed that one of your victims would free himself from you? Perhaps it is time you were the one being interrogated.”
Debra’s face twisted with fear.
“My lord, that would be unwise. Your armies, word tells that they have weakened. You will need Yaloran to defeat the Sikeran.”
Ibalize laughed. “Much has changed since I saw you last, little cowardling. I am not what I once was. My powers have grown.”
He grabbed her in one giant, clawed hand, and began to squeeze.
“You let him die. He was useful to me. You have let your kingdom fall into ruins. Your soldiers were to have joined my army, and we could have challenged the goddess herself. Instead, they are untrained and undisciplined." He squeezed tighter, and Debra let out a scream. Two guards charged into the room and Ibalize incinerated them.
“For all your bluster, you have done nothing but fail me.” He continued. “Tell me, tiny mortal, why I should spare your life.”
Debra struggled within his hand but could not move. Ibalize loosened his grip and she gasped for air, then spit up blood.
“I…have many…spies…my…lord.” She said finally.
Ibalize stared at her with disgust.
“You cannot sense the change in me, can you? I have slain my brethren and stolen their powers. I have become more powerful than even the goddess herself. I have no need for your petty subterfuge.” Ibalize told her, then he slowly began to tighten his grip. “You will die here tonight because you are weak and you are stupid. And when you fly to whatever realm my father has prepared for you, I want you to remember that weakness.” With these final words he crushed the life out of her, then tossed her to the ground in her twisted and broken armor.
Muda, Sophia
They approached the capital slowly, trying to give the impression of nonchalance. They gave food to any refugees they encountered, and these would often join in behind. A quasi-city formed every time they stopped for camp. The people were mostly peaceful, too desperate to risk losing the help of the Sikeran army. What little crime they saw would be answered with force from the Sikeran soldiers.
When they were two days out from the capital they stopped and for almost a week. They had prepared more than enough supplies, and so Sophia and Muda allowed the soldiers time to rest and repair their gear. Muda spent some small time practicing tactics with his officers, but never revealed anything that could be used against them.
It came time to march for Yaloran. Sophia and Muda’s plan was simple. If they were not met with outright hostility, then they would be allowed an honor-guard to enter the city. They had prepared several powerful spells which Yaloran would not be able to counteract. If they were attacked immediately after passing the city walls, they would use these, then hold the gate as their own soldiers entered. If not they would wait two days. During this time they would hide soldiers amongst the refugees, though these would be unarmed and unarmored. At high-moon on the second day the honor-guard and the spies would converge at the western gate. They would force it open, and allow the Sikeran forces to enter.
If they were met with outright hostility, or at any time felt unsafe, then it would become a siege. The Sikeran would be able to bring in fresh supplies, while blocking any from entering Yaloran. Debra would be forced to surrender, or see her people dead.
The Sikeran soldiers were openly anxious about this option. They were used to more subtle tactics, attacking and retreating. Muda was afraid that his soldiers would grow bored. A direct attack was highly preferable.
On the day they were to arrive Muda sharpened his sword and polished his armor. Together with Sophia and their honor guard of two hundred and fifty soldiers he headed towards Yaloran. They were surprised to see droves of refugees heading away from the city.
When they arrived at the gate, there was no one to greet them, nor were there any soldiers to be seen. They entered cautiously, wary of traps, but still did not see any guards. There were occasional citizens, but they were frightened and fled as soon as they saw the Sikeran. The city smelled of rot and ash, and the soldiers were forced to cover their faces with pieces of cloth.
Muda ordered the rest of the army to begin peaceful exploration of the city. They were told to do as they had done with the other refugees – give food to those to needed it, maintain stability by whatever means necessary.
Muda and Sophia continued on with their honor guard. They eventually made their way to the castle proper. Here the gates were sealed, but soldiers could be seen standing atop the walls. Sophia told her mages to prepare a spell that would allow them to open the gate with minimal damage, but Muda stopped her.
“Let me speak with them.”
He did not stay long enough to hear her argue.
“Bring out the Lady-Regent, Debra. She has many crimes to answer for.” He called up.
“The Lady-Regent is dead. Who are you and what do you want?”
“We come with peaceful intentions. Bring out your commander, for what I have to say, I will say only once.”
He stood, and waited. There was no movement for a few moments, but eventually, a gruff looking soldier with one eye signaled down. There was some shuffling behind the wall, and a gray-haired, pudgy-faced soldier appeared.
Muda stood motionless the entire time he waited. Even as Sophia's mages prepared their spell he stared up at the ragged and weary guards. When the Yaloran commander appeared, he stood for a moment longer. Then, without speaking a word, he drew his sword and held it up for them to see.
“Those of you who have served Yaloran for more than a decade
may remember this sword. Those who never saw my father have undoubtedly heard of it. Within my hand I hold the weapon that has been passed down for generations. The sword that has defended Yaloran from her enemies, that has fought to for her glory. I hold the sword of kings.”
He lowered the blade, then returned it to its scabbard.
“I hold this sword, because I am your king. I stand before you, soldiers of Yaloran, as the lost prince, come to return my country to its former prosperity. The city is in shambles. Its people loot and murder. An army more terrible than you can imagine comes for us, led by a creature that can summon death greater than you can imagine. You cannot hide within these walls and hope to survive."
The soldiers standing upon the wall shuffled awkwardly. Finally, the commander called down.
“You have his look, but what does that mean? How do we know you are him?”
“You saw Yannick, when he came. You know that he represented Sikeran, and you know that we are Sikeran’s army. Yannick…was like a father to me. After the king, my true father, died Yannick was tasked with raising me. He had hoped that I would come, and reclaim the rule. He did not know, early on, that magic that had consumed me.”
“I hated that man for a very long time, but in the end, it was he who saved me. He came to Yaloran, knowing that it would lead to his death. He came knowing he would have to face Debra, who had gone insane.”
“Yannick raised me and vouched for me to the Lady-Regent. You know you can trust me, because you trusted Yannick."
There were no more arguments. The commander signaled for them to enter the gate, and Muda was of Yaloran once again.