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“Don’t touch it,” Sam shouted, jumping backwards out of reach as Tor made to grab hold of the chain. “You have to take hold of it at the same time as your brothers or they both will die.” Tor pulled back his hand as though it had been burnt.
“Sorry,” he said, though whether he was apologising to Sam or Brodin was not clear.
“Did anyone tell you who left it in Orion?” Seth asked Sam.
“No. I asked, but the man never gave his name. He also kept his face hidden so nobody could describe his features.”
“I am beginning to think that someone other than our father has become involved,” Brodin observed. “We know Albian helped to set up some of the first clues, but I can see no way that he could have got hold of that chain. On top of that, he is helping mother to run the country. It would have been commented on if he had disappeared long enough to visit all of the places he would have needed to. We know the latest clues were set up recently.”
“Conjecture will get us nowhere,” Dal pointed out. “May I suggest we bring this up again when we are all together under one roof?”
“Your wife talks a lot of sense,” Tor said to Seth.
“One of them needs to,” Patrick commented, just loud enough for Seth to hear.
“Please can I take this thing off,” Sam complained. “It is really heavy.”
“I do not see why not,” Tor told her. He hated seeing his father’s chain being worn by someone else, so he was more than happy for her to remove it. The clue had said nothing about what she would have to do once she had retrieved it, but he wanted to take no chances. “Though I suggest you be the only one to touch it until we get back to Cirren.” The knowledge that he and Dean may not be alive by the time they reached Camal was in the forefront of everyone’s minds, but nobody felt the need to voice their fears.
“I have a strong velvet bag that is the perfect size for that chain,” Kentauride volunteered and left the arena to retrieve it.
“If this is the royal chain,” Sam enquired, “shouldn’t it be given to the next King instead of being buried with the old one?”
“It is ‘a’ chain not ‘the’ chain,” Brodin explained. “In Remeny, a new one is forged for each new ruler. The chain itself is not important; it is the medallion that is significant. The symbol on it represents the new ruler, not the old.”
“So what will be on yours?” Ria asked. She was not being sarcastic and Brodin took the question seriously, as it was intended.
“It has not yet been decided that I will be King,” he said in a sombre tone.
“What should I do with this?” Sam asked, suddenly remembering that she still had the wooden box containing the ring and the gemstone.
She held out the box to Tor and he took it from her and opened it up, surprised to find the gemstone still in there. “I will take the ring,” he announced. “It must be returned to Tallon as soon as this quest is over.” His mood was dark and there was a trace of harshness in his voice which Sam had never heard before. “If I do not make it, one of you will need to deliver it for me.” He slipped the ring on one of his fingers then picked up the gemstone. “I have no idea about this though.” He held it up to his face and inspected it. It did not sparkle like most jewels, seeming to absorb light instead of reflecting it.
“May I have it?” Patrick requested unexpectedly. Tor raised a questioning eyebrow. “I intend to visit a jeweller when I have some spare time. It would make a nice present for Ellen. It reminds me of myself, for some reason.”
“What kind of present were you thinking of?” Dal asked.
“Maybe a pendent, if I can find a jeweller who can come up with a design I like.” He saw the look of disappointment on Dal’s face and suppressed a grin. He took the gem from Tor and looked at it quizzically. “It is quite large. If it is cut carefully, there should be enough left over for a matching engagement ring.”
Words of congratulations filled the arena and, once they had died down, Patrick admitted that he had not actually gotten around to asking Ellen so made everyone promise not to say anything. He planned to wait until he had the ring made before speaking to her.
By the time Kentauride returned, conversation had moved on to the subject of their departure. Sam accepted the bag from the centaur and gratefully removed the chain from around her neck. Kentauride inspected the red marks it had left on her skin and dragged her away to the healing house to get some ointment.
Tor handed the box over to the chief, requesting that he give it to his wife in exchange for the bag. The decision was made to leave as soon as possible and the chief volunteered a squad of young centaurs to escort them to the base of the mountain. When they collected Sam from the healing house, he insisted that Sam should ride once more, much to her relief. The farewells were short and each of the humans promised to return one day, if they were able.
The journey down the mountain was uneventful and took less time than expected. The centaurs set a fast, but manageable pace and going down was much easier than climbing up. On top of that, they were not hindered by Sam, who had been slower than the others on the way up and had needed to rest more often.
One evening, Sam saw Tor studying the ring that rightfully belonged to Tallon. “Why is it called a seal?” she asked. She had been wondering about that for a while.
Tor held his hand forward so she could see it clearly in the firelight. There was an intricate design on it which stood out rather than being carved into the metal. “This design,” Tor explained, “is unique and is easily identified as belonging to the next in line to the throne of Kinfen. The King has one which is very similar. It is used to imprint into the sealing wax for all official documents as proof that it is from the Prince.”
“That makes sense,” Sam said, “but surely it can be easily duplicated.”
“Not as easily as you would think,” Tor told her. “It has to be copied from the original. People have tried to make a duplicate from the imprint in the wax, but nobody has ever managed to do it successfully for some reason.” He then pointed to his own ring. “Mine is used in the same way. It identifies correspondence as coming from a member of the royal family of Remeny. Those who know what to look for will be able to identify it as my personal seal.”
Patrick walked over to join them. Sensing the conversation was over, he asked Sam a question. “What are all of those documents you brought back with you from Orion?”
“I am glad you mentioned those,” she replied. “I need to ask you a favour. They are the old Shandar records that Feleen mentioned. If I am unable to deliver them in person, will you please make sure they are given to her?”
“Of course,” he said, smiling at her. “I am very grateful you remembered to ask about them. You have just made my housekeeper very happy.”
There was less than half a day’s walk to the base of the mountains when the centaurs announced that they would go no further. They knew there was a human village close by and did not wish to go any nearer. Sam was sad to dismount. Not only had the ride been very comfortable, but she was able to talk with the centaur as she rode. They were a fascinating race and she sincerely hoped to be able to spend more time with them in the near future.
Darkness was descending as they entered the village and they made their way directly to the inn. The inn-keeper recognised them and greeted them warmly. He assured them that their horses had been well cared for and happily met their request for rooms for the night. Everyone was feeling tired and all retired early. They rose at first light, ate a quick breakfast, and made to depart. They were about to leave, when Patrick remembered his boots.
“I will only be a moment,” he said and headed back into the inn. Seth looked at Dal and winked. When Patrick came storming out, it took all of his willpower to not react. Dal had to hide her face so Patrick could not see her silently laughing.
“What is wrong?” Tor asked, sighing in frustration at the delay.
“That imbecile has lost my boots,” Patrick grumbled. “Brand new. I hardly got to wear them. Now I am stuck with these things until I can purchase some more in Camal.” He looked down in disgust at the scratched and worn pair on his feet.
“Do you think he stole them?” Brodin asked in concern.
“No,” Patrick snapped. “I am sure he is honest. He put them in a safe place and they seem to have just disappeared.”
Seth could control himself no longer and burst out laughing. Tears rolled down his face as he informed Patrick that he had paid the inn keeper to pretend to have lost them. Patrick strode back into the inn, returning a short while later with his boots in his hands.
“Not funny,” he snarled at Seth as he passed him, making the young man laugh once more.
“Children,” Sam heard Tor mutter as he led them out of the stable yard and onto the street.
Sam found the journey back to Camal long and tedious. She found being on horseback uncomfortable after being on a centaur and her baby was becoming very active, keeping her awake at night with its continual movements. She was not the only one to feel a sense of relief when first catching sight of the city. They rode straight to the inn and Sam practically ran up the stairs to Dean’s room. She threw open the door without knocking and burst into the room. Dean was sitting in a chair beside one of the beds, reading a book. He looked up in surprise, dropping the book when he saw who had so rudely interrupted his peace and quiet. Jumping to his feet, he ran forward and took Sam in his arms.
“I have missed you so much,” he told her, releasing his hold on her so he could kiss her. “Thank you for sending the birds. It was good being able to track your progress.”
“How are you?” she asked, her legs going weak as relief washed through her. Dean moved her to the chair he had just vacated and forced her to sit down. “I am fine. The regrowth of my muscle was extremely painful, but it seems to have worked successfully. Ellen allowed me out of bed for the first time a few days ago and I have been taking short walks to regain full movement in the leg.” He looked at her critically. “You seemed surprised to see me alive.”
“Thankful, not surprised,” she informed him. “I overheard the others talking one evening. They were worried that you and Cirren might turn into zombies, like the creature that attacked you.”
Dean sat on the bed, taking her hands in his. “Ellen told me the same thing. Their fears appear to have been unfounded. Nosmas has assured me that if I was going to turn, I would have done so by now.” He smiled affectionately at her. “So tell me all about your adventures.”
Sam told him about the centaurs, describing both them and their city in great detail before moving on to Orion and its inhabitants. She had just got to the part where she rode a flying horse when there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Dean called out and Tor entered, followed by Dal, Seth, Cirren and Brodin.
“It is good to see you looking so well,” Tor said. “I take it Sam has been filling you in on all you missed.”
Dean nodded. “Centaurs, flying horses and lizard men. I wish I had been there.”
“Me too,” Sam said quietly.
“You should think about visiting the centaurs after the birth, once Sam is fit enough to travel again,” Brodin suggested.
Tor’s tone became serious. “The quest is almost at an end. I would like everyone present when my brothers and I take the chain from Sam. I think everyone has earned the right to be here. Nosmas has gone to find Quartilla and Ellen is checking Ria’s back. It has healed well, leaving only a faint scar, but has been stiffening up overnight so she wants to make sure everything is as it should be. She also wants to take a quick look at her ankle, though that has not been giving her any problems since she regained full use of it.”
“May I see the chain while we wait?” Dean asked and Sam took it from the bag, placing it over her neck and taking the medallion into her hand so that Dean could easily see it. “This is great craftsmanship,” he said in admiration.
There was another knock on the door and Nosmas entered with Quartilla, closely followed by Ria, Ellen and Patrick, the latter two with their arms around each other.
“Now we are all here, we should get this over and done with,” Brodin said, and the three brothers took positions in front of Sam. “On the count of three, touch the chain,” he instructed his two brothers. “One. Two.”
“Do not move,” a voice sounded from behind them. All eyes turned to the door, in front of which stood a tall, thin man, his face concealed by the hood of his cloak. Sam was sure she knew him, but could not place from where, and she was certain she had heard his voice before. She had an overwhelming desire to run up to him and throw her arms around him, like he was a long lost friend. She smiled at him in welcome.
“Who are you?” Brodin demanded aggressively. He too felt he knew him.
After closing the door behind him, the strange man moved his arms upwards, pulling back his hood to reveal his face. He regarded the Prince coldly, his dark eyes appearing to sink into his face. His skin was pale, with an ugly red birthmark down the left side. He was completely bald, lacking even his eyebrows. Tor and Brodin both breathed in sharply, instantly recognising him.
“What are you doing here?” Cirren asked, seemingly less concerned by the man’s presence than his brothers.
“I am here to witness the end of the quest,” he said in an unfriendly tone. “Sam, bring me the chain.” It was an order not a request.
“Sam, stay where you are,” Tor said. “For those who do not know, this is Albian, my father’s advisor.” He turned his attention back to the hairless man. “Why do you want the chain?”
Albian sighed in irritation. “Sam, just give it to me,” he snapped.
Confusion overcame her. Her head felt foggy, as though she had just woken from a deep sleep. She was no longer sure where she was. She was surrounded by people she knew were her friends, but she felt she could no longer trust them, but did not know why. She started to move slowly towards Albian.
“Sam, what are you doing?” Dean asked, a trace of warning evident in his voice.
She looked at him and frowned. She was handing the chain to her friend, as instructed. Why would Dean be questioning her? What right did he have to question her? She turned back to Albian, who was smiling at her.
“Remember, I am your friend,” he said gently. “You know you can trust me. Now hand me the chain.” Unable to find a reason not to do so, she removed the heavy chain from around her neck and placed it in his outstretched hand. “Thank you my dear. Now I have no further need of you.” He whispered a phrase, too quiet for anyone else to hear, and clicked his fingers. Sam collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.
Dean rushed forward. “What the hell have you done?” he shouted. “Sam, Sam, wake up,” he said frantically as he tapped her face. There was no response.
“She will wake when she is ready,” Albian said dismissively.
“What is going on?” Tor shouted.
Albian sneered at him. “I am surprised you have not worked it out yet. You and your brothers think yourselves so clever, but not once since you started on your quest did any of you think to question it.” He placed the chain over his head before continuing, tucking it out of sight inside his tunic. “Did you all really believe your father would have set up something so deadly?”
As he spoke, he noticed Patrick edging closer, his sword in his hand. “I suggest you all remain where you are. One word from me and Sam will stop breathing.”
Patrick froze and looked towards Tor, who nodded. Reluctantly he resheathed his sword and moved to stand beside Ellen, taking her hand in his and squeezing it tightly. “I suggest that the wizard and the witch remain silent and keep their hands in plain sight,” Albian continued. “If I even suspect that they are using magic, Sam dies.”
Dean looked at them both, his eyes pleading with them to comply.
Albian continued. “For many years now I have been secretly studying dark magic and have become something of an expert. It was I who created the creature that attacked Dean. I needed him out of the way for a while.”
“But why?” Dean asked, his voice breaking as he choked back tears.
“It is not obvious? I did not help set up the quest, as you all believe. It was all my idea. I planned every detail. It was designed to kill you all off, one by one. Then Sam and Tor had to go and ruin everything by first figuring out what was happening, then finding a way to keep his brothers alive. I had not intended to be facing three of you. I needed a way to get hold of the chain before any of you and making Sam hand it to me seemed the perfect revenge.”
“Now I understand,” Tor said. “It was you who made her have those nightmares. You have been using them to plant ideas in her mind.”
“Well done,” Albian said sarcastically. “Thanks to the spell I placed on her pendant, I have been invading her mind, turning her against you and convincing her I was the only one she could really trust.” He looked down at Sam’s unconscious form. “It seems to have worked well.”
“What?” Dean called out, anger replacing his fear for Sam. “The present I bought her is what was causing her bad dreams?” He looked around the room. “Did any of you know?” Nobody replied. They did not need to.
Albian chuckled. “It seems your friends are not as open and honest as they would have you believe.”
“But how can it have been you?” Dean asked, unable to believe he had been responsible for Sam’s suffering. “I brought that necklace from an old man.”
“Do you really think I do not know how to change my appearance,” Albian said disdainfully.
“But I still do not understand why you had to get rid of Dean,” Dal said.
It was her husband who answered. “He had to make sure it was Sam who went to Orion. Dean could easily have gone in her place and if he had been the one to obtain the chain, there was no way he would have handed it over to Albian.”
“So you have been monitoring our progress from the start,” Brodin observed. “Planting the clues as you needed to. You were in Inden before we arrived so you knew exactly when to place the clue on the statue.”
“But how did you know about my painting?” Patrick demanded. “You have never been to my castle.”
Albian laughed at him. “Whatever makes you think that? I have been there many times. Do you really think your pathetic attempts at security could keep me out? I can go wherever I please without anyone ever knowing where I have been.”
“Why did you say ‘the short and the tall may not be present’ in one of the clues?” Tor asked. “Why did you not want either of them here?”
Albian shrugged. “I had no reason to specifically choose them. I wanted to reduce the number of people I would have to confront at the end and they were the first two to spring to mind.”
“There is one thing I do not understand,” Brodin said. “How did you get the start of the quest set up so quickly? It started only a few days after our father’s death.”
Albian smiled. It was not a happy smile. It was cold and sadistic. “That is easy. I had it set up in advance.”
Cirren frowned at him. “But how did you know when father was going to die? It was so unexpected. Are you trying to say you can see into the future?”
Albian sneered at him. “Of course not, you stupid boy. The answer is much simpler than that.” He could not stop the smile from returning to his face as he spoke the words he knew would enrage the Princes. “I killed him.”
Unable to control himself, Tor lunged forwards. Instinctively, Albian stepped backwards, the door preventing him from moving any further. Before Tor could reach his target, Nosmas grabbed him, pinning his arms to his side. “Think about Sam,” the wizard hissed into his ear.
Albian was shaking as he stepped away from the door. “Now I have the chain, the quest is over. I will be the new King. With no-one of royal blood left to stop me, I will marry your mother and become the rightful ruler of Remeny.” Once more he whispered an unintelligible phrase and this time, when he clicked his fingers, he vanished. One second he was there, the next there was no sign of him.
“So what happens now?” Dean asked.
Brodin surprised him by smiling. “As he said, the quest is over. You get to live the rest of your life however you see fit.”
“But what about you three?” He gestured towards where the three Princes were standing as he spoke.
“Us? I guess we die. Sometime soon the need to kill ourselves or each other will overcome us.”
“There must be something we can do,” Ria protested. “Can we not lock you away until you are no longer a danger to yourselves?”
Tor shook his head. “I do not think that will work. The spell will never go away, not until we are all dead.”
“So it has all been for nothing?” Dean asked angrily. “Sam and I have been dragged away from our homes, the life we had together. We have been put through hell to help you with the quest. We have seen friends die, faced death ourselves and for what? For some bastard to run off with the prize at the end?” He could not help sounding bitter. Nobody answered him.
Silence filled the room. There was nothing left to say. The quest was indeed over. Now all they could do was wait for the Princes to die. Dean looked around him, at the people he had learned to love as more than just friends. Nosmas hugged Quartilla to him, stifling her sobs against his chest. Seth and Dal clung to each other, tears flowing down both of their faces. Patrick held Ellen, her body shaking as she cried while Ria stood alone, staring at Tor, Cirren and Brodin, unaware that tears were flowing down her face. The three Princes looked at each other, defeat and despair evident on their faces.
Unable to contain his grief any longer, Dean pulled Sam’s unresponsive body tightly to him, buried his face into her hair and wept.
“It cannot end like this,” Dal said, her distress evident in her voice. “Whatever happened to ‘they all lived happily ever after’?” She looked at Tor. “I thought that was the way all quests are supposed to end.”
“Sam once asked me who the good guys were as she wanted to make sure she was on the right side, as in books and plays the good guys always win. I told her this was real life not a book.” Tor smiled ruefully. “Unfortunately, it seems that in real life sometimes the good guys lose.”
The quest may be over, but the story is not yet complete. The adventure will conclude in the sequel to Tor’s Quest: The Assassin.
From Trudie:
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