Through the night Father Jacob watched the strange one, the one called Seth. As the shaman had asked, Jacob placed the healing stones one by one to Seth's forehead. He had seen such stones before in the Temple of the Mother, but never had he witnessed their ability to heal. When first held, the strange stones hummed and glowed bright yellow; touched to Seth's forehead, the color slowly drained from them until they were left dull, black and empty.
Two hours before dawn Seth had opened his eyes and spoken. "Where is my companion?" he had asked, his words in the old language.
The old language, being the language of priests and priestesses, hadn't surprised Jacob. He had answered without thought in the same tongue. "I do not know; I am sorry." It was only now that Father Jacob was deep in conversation with Seth that he realized Seth spoke in the old tongue, the language that had once been universal to all peoples when trading goods and now is preserved only by those of the Mother and Father.
"Myth and lore would have most Kingdomers believe that your kind are akin to fairies, pixies and sprites."
Seth smiled and regarded Jacob with his blue eyes. He seemed to know Jacob was joking.
Jacob continued. "You must meet a friend of mine. Keeper Martin would write entire tomes filled with your words. There would be a definite gleam in his eyes as he wrote: elf of the gold and green forest, most fair and generous."
Yes Jacob, I am very much mortal, just as you, Seth said, answering the question that had been on Jacob's mind for some time. Many of my companions journeyed to Great Father so that I could be here and it fills my heart with sorrow to know it was all for nothing…
"You will have counsel before King Andrew, friend Seth, this I promise you."
You do not understand, without my companion, Brother Galan, I have failed. My fate is here… She was needed to return to my homeland, the land of East Reach.
"There is something you must know, Brother Seth," Jacob said, borrowing the title, as it seemed appropriate. "The one who found you said something that was strange. On the beach where you were found, it appeared there had been a struggle of some sort. One dead man attested to this. Unless there was a man in your party?"
There were no Men. Seth's voice sounded suddenly distant. His eyes flashed, his expression became one of puzzled remembrance. Yes, yes there it is. Seth sent surprise and hope into Jacob's mind along with the words.
For the first time Father Jacob realized Seth spoke in thoughts and not aloud. Do you walk in my thoughts? He asked himself.
It is the way of my people. I took open thought as a sign that you wanted me to enter your mind. I am sorry if I have offended you.
"Nothing of the sort, Brother Seth," Jacob said, "You continue to surprise me is all. There really are poor records of the four peoples after the Race Wars."
Tell me of this other, the one who found me and the one you are thinking of now. He is of the four peoples, is he not?
"Xith, last of the Watchers. I first met him thirteen years ago. He came to me in a time of great need. He promised he would return one day when the need was again great, and he has. The heart of darkness itself is consuming Great Kingdom. I fear our fates are intertwined, my friend."
More, I am afraid. I remember some of it now. At the last, I called out with my mind in desperation. The call, I fear, lead more than just those who wished to aid me. I fear I summoned your enemy as well. Seth attempted to stand and did so only with Jacob's help. I would help you. What must I do?
"For now, there is little we can do. If Xith has not returned to camp shortly after sunrise, we journey north and return with the King's army marshaled before us." Jacob looked to the East where dawn was forming on the horizon. "To war," he whispered. "For now we can only wait and hope against hope… I truly fear the worst."
It was the morning of the second day since their capture and still Vilmos cursed himself. Xith had told him to do what he must and he had done nothing. To him this was unacceptable, and as he marched with his hands tied painfully tight behind his back, he hung his head in shame. It seemed of small consequence to know that Prince William and his henchmen had fled Alderan out of fear they might not be able to control the city any longer.
Vilmos knew little of the Prince of the North, Valam, but he was sure there had been tears in his eyes when William of Sever had ordered the city set ablaze and that no building should be left standing. That night, even from miles and miles away, they had seen the unearthly glow of the burning city. Vilmos had seen rage and naked hatred in the Prince's eyes then.
They had been moving since daybreak without respite. The first day they had stayed near the coast, traveling south, but this day they traveled more east than south. Vilmos knew this because the sun shined almost directly in his eyes, making the world around him bleached and hazy. He knew only that Princess Adrina was to his right and that if he didn't maintain a correct pace, he stepped on the heels of the guardsman, Emel.
Sweat dripping down from his forehead ran into his eyes and with his hands tied behind his back, Vilmos couldn't wipe it away. Exhaustion sought to overcome him and he fought to stay alert. He still held hope that Xith would somehow rescue them.
An abrupt kick from behind sent Vilmos sprawling. Screaming, he hit the hard ground face first. He spun around angrily and spat out dirt.
"Rest," said the voice of the figure towering above him.
With his back now to the sun, Vilmos found the haze in front of his eyes slowly clearing. He stared up at the shadowed figure, which hovered over him for a moment more before turning away.
"Are you all right?" Adrina asked.
Vilmos said, "I think so." His backside was a little sore but he'd recover. His pride was hurt more than anything. He had done nothing to provoke William's men yet it seemed they had singled him out. More than anyone else, he bore the brunt of their resentment and anger. He was the one who was forced to watch while the others ate, albeit meagerly. He was the one who was denied water or forced to drink from a bowl like an animal. He was the one who was pushed and kicked.
The brooding prince also regarded him. "You are tougher than you look, my young friend, I am glad." Prince Valam was silent for a moment, and then continued. "It seems you have been singled out because you are the smallest and the youngest. Their aim is to break you and thus break us all. Know that I will give repayment for every such mistreatment. Know also, that many a man would have already yielded."
Emel seemed to agree. He winked at Vilmos and said quietly, "Hang in there, we will surely make them pay."
Vilmos whispered back, "May Queen Elthia turn over in her grave so that she does not have to see the harvest her son seeks." Prince Valam turned a puzzled frown to Vilmos. "My father's words," Vilmos explained.
"It seems we were never properly introduced, my young friend. You look of royal blood and you speak like one well educated and Kingdom borne. Yet I have never seen you in any of the southern courts beside your father."
Vilmos' face flushed red. "I am hardly of royal blood, my father is a village counselor." Vilmos paused, his tongue growing flustered. "In truth, I am ill at ease in your company…" His voice trailed off momentarily.
"Yours too, Princess," Vilmos said, turning to Adrina briefly before turning back to Prince Valam. "In truth, I am not as tough as you might think. I was more afraid of crying in your presence than of my lost pride. Even William of Sever's men respect you."
"Respect and fear are two different things, Vilmos. They fear me only as long as we remain on Kingdom soil. Matters will change when we reach Sever." Prince Valam turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. "Water," he shouted at the guard. "Water for everyone!"
For two days Captain Trendmore drove the column north along the coast of the great sea. On smooth terrain the foot soldiers maintained a steady pace and made good progress. Keeper Martin was hopeful that by afternoon the walls and spires of the Free Cities would be in sight.
Doubt had grown in the Lore Keeper from the moment the column had turned north instead of south, but Martin had no definite proof to act on his feelings. He couldn't act on hunches and doubts. For all he knew, Captain Trendmore was indeed following Captain Brodst's orders. Then again, if he didn't take action soon, who would?
Keeper Martin cast a sidelong glance at the close-mouthed rider to his left, then lowered the hood of his cloak and looked to the sea. A strong breeze out of the north carried with it a salty spray. "On such a hot day," Martin said, "the moisture and the breeze are refreshing. Don't you think so, captain?"
Captain Adylton replied, "The sun near midday is hot here, Lore Keeper, you would do well to keep that hood about your head."
Martin eyed the tall, dark-skinned southerner who had removed his cloak about an hour into the ride and rode with short leggings that exposed calves and knees.
Captain Adylton quickly added, "Playing in the surf and lying by the sea is about all I did in my youth. My father was a fisher…"
Keeper Martin smiled—a mischievous smile. In a voice that barely carried above the plodding of his mount's hooves, he asked, "Did you sail these waters often with your father then?"
"More often than I cared to."
Martin noted Captain Adylton's annoyance and his apparent wish to end the conversation. "Would an autumn storm have driven your sails north or south?"
"I see," Adylton said, "that troubles you too."
Martin nodded. "I have sailed to High Province close to winter season many times. Always I felt the breezes upon my face when I stood at the bow."
"Aye, the winds change with the ending of summer. Autumn and winter bring cold breezes out the north."
"Captain Trendmore wasn't a fisher's son was he?" Martin asked.
"Hardly, his father was a tanner or was it a smithy—at any rate, no, I'm sure he's never sailed."
"I have known Captain Brodst for many years, yet I cannot recall his father's trade?"
Captain Adylton gave Keeper Martin a stern look. "You know as well as I that…" The captain's voice trailed off. He looked again at Martin, suddenly seeming to realize where Martin was going with his questions. "You are right. The storms would have blown the ship south if it strayed off course at all. Any experienced captain would have had little trouble in those storms. They were early autumn storms, full of malice yes, but not violent like the storms of winter."
Keeper Martin looked Captain Adylton straight in the eye. "Do you have loyal men in your squadron?"
Captain Adylton stared back at Martin. "They are loyal men all, and they follow all lawful orders of their commanding officers. None would turn against the other, if that is your hope."
"What of unlawful orders given by a man who is no longer loyal to his country or his countrymen?" Keeper Martin asked.
Captain Adylton reined in his steed, nearly coming to a halt. "Proving such a thing, Keeper." His changing the pace brought mayhem to those in the column behind him. A wagon driver's team nearly drove over him. Captain Adylton shrugged off the man's curses and spurred his mount. "How do you propose to do that?"
Keeper Martin judged the captain's receptiveness to the truth by the unease in his eyes. "There is news I have not shared with you, captain. The situation is much graver than you are aware of. It was not just the upcoming departure of a ship from the port city of Wellison that brought me to Imtal Palace to disturb King Andrew's rest in the middle of the night. Prior to this, I had been in the Far South for many months. Secretly.
"At first it was personal matters that brought me to Sever more than anything else. After, much more. It was fortunate that only Keeper Q'yer of Quashan' knew my whereabouts. Also fortunate that my last visit to Sever had been some years before.
"When I arrived in Gregortonn, all seemed well. The affairs in the capital were running smoothly. This all changed quickly. King Charles ordered the city sealed. The city garrison turned to the streets. Hundreds were arrested. Dozens killed in clashes. For a full day afterward the city was quiet. Only the flags removed from their poles upon the walls attested to turmoil. Just before dawn of the second day, the searches began. More arrests, more fighting. Luckily I was able to find reliable accommodations, which did not come without a price.
"Two weeks I was in hiding, plotting my escape. Then one afternoon while moving to a new safe house, I made a most unexpected discovery. Soldiers loyal to King Charles were no longer in control of the city. An agent of King Jarom had usurped power… Everything I'd seen suddenly made sense.
"Soon after I arrived in the new safe house one of my benefactors discovered my true identity. I don't know how, but it was a fortunate turn of events, for it was then that men loyal to Charles approached me. They spoke of a bold plan to retake the city and of a plan to smuggle the heir to the throne from the city to safety. It was with their help that I eventually made my way back to Great Kingdom."
Keeper Martin took a long swig from a wineskin, and then cleared his throat. "You know as well as I that King Charles' voice was the only vote of dissension in the Minors when King Jarom last sued for war and the dissolution of the Kingdom Alliance. His aim is to rule Great Kingdom, there can be no doubt."
Again disrupting the pace of the group, Captain Adylton reined in his mount and stared at Keeper Martin. The wagon driver behind the captain screamed angrily this time.
"Is there something wrong?" came an excited voice from behind them. A rider raced toward them. Both Martin and Adylton recognized the voice and the rider, Captain Trendmore.
"We must act, are we agreed on that, Captain Adylton?" Martin asked as he raised the hood of his cloak.
Captain Adylton signaled agreement and urged his mount onward.
"Is there something wrong here?" Captain Trendmore repeated when he came abreast of the two.
"I was just explaining to the good keeper that if he kept his face to the sun for another hour on a day like today, he would be as bright as a one of Duke Ispeth's apples before nightfall. I think it took him by surprise."
"Yes, yes indeed," Captain Trendmore said, a crooked smile coming to his lips.