Read The Invisible Chains - Part 1: Bonds of Hate Online
Authors: Andrew Ashling
Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Adventure
As she had been instructed she went to ‘The Three Legged Dog’, a tavern even more seedier than the one were she and the cheeky dirty angel had met. As she had promised him she had given him three moltars.
“That's for your services,” she had said.
As she had promised herself she had then slapped him across the face.
“And that's for the fat cow,” she had smiled, leaving a stunned little thief clamping three coins in his tiny fist and nursing a glowing red cheek with his other hand.
She accosted the landlord.
“My name is Sobrathi. You have a room for me,” she stated rather than asked.
“Second floor, first door,” had come the equally sparse reply.
The room was completely dark when she entered it, and it took a while for her eyes to adjust. Then she saw the vague contours of a slender figure.
“Cut it out, Merrick, and open the shutters so I can see you.”
“So harsh. I remember you as more... inviting,” a melodious voice said.
The shutters opened and daylight flooded in the little room. Sobrathi saw a lanky man with sharp features and a prominent nose looking smilingly at her.
“Ha, you murderess,” he said. “I am but a poor bungling thief, but you killed my young heart, you cruel woman.”
“Bah, you are a thief, true, but neither are you poor nor a bungler. And my dagger shattered on that stone you call a heart.” She laughed out loud. “It's good to see you, Tektiranga.”
“Likewise, baroness Burgotharr. The years have been kind to you. Though there is somewhat more of you than I seem to remember. But your beauty and charm are as blinding as ever.”
“Only you, Merrick, only you can insult a lady and flatter her at the same time.”
“So what brings you here, except of course my irresistible charm?”
“Emelasuntha needs a little job done quickly and discreetly.”
The Tektiranga whistled.
“The Lioness of Torantall, the Shield of Astonema, the Maiden upon the Walls herself needs my inadequate services? Well, well. Ha, I still can see her upon the wall walks, going from sentinel to sentinel, in her long white robes, a sword at her side and her golden hair loose in the wind. An encouraging word for all she had, and she inspected every weapon herself. I swear, the whole male population, and at least half the females of the city were in love with her.”
Sobrathi remembered all too well. Some twenty years ago Zyntrea had been the helpless prey of the Warring Barons who disputed the royal authority. Emelasuntha's father had been forced at last to take the field against them, and while he was far away with his army a rebel force had threatened the capital. The city prefect, with scant troops at his disposal, had wanted to surrender Torantall to the advancing insurgents. Emelasuntha, all of sixteen years at the time, had somehow got wind of his intentions and her fury had been indomitable. Followed by the Royal Guard and with little Kurtigaill, her brother, in tow she had burst into the council room where the prefect, a few officers and some city council members were discussing the terms they would offer.
“You miserable worm,” she had thundered, “you stinking rat, how dare you plot the surrender of my city to the enemy in my own palace?”
“Your royal highness, this is no place for girls,” the city prefect had replied haughtily. “You don't understand these things.”
“I understand that you are a coward and a traitor.”
She had turned to the Royal Guard.
“Men, arrest that sorry lot, and kill everyone of them who tries to resist.”
The prefect had protested. In vain. Held in check by the soldiers of the Royal Guard, there was nothing he or the others could do.
“Strip that pathetic excuse for a man.”
“Your highness...” the city prefect had protested in horror as the first smirking soldiers began to tear his clothes from his body.
“Shut your treasonous trap before I cut your balls off with my own hands,” the princess had hissed, most unladylike.
Minutes later, as naked as the day he was born, the city prefect, encouraged by slaps with the broad side of a soldier's sword on his buttocks, was marched out of the room, out of the palace, into the streets and unto the Great Market. Emelasuntha had climbed the stairs of the council house with her soldiers, her little brother and her hapless prisoner. On the highest point, clearly visible, she had started addressing the mass of people who had gathered in the meantime. She had vilified the traitors and especially the city prefect, who she had grabbed by the hair, yanking his head down which forced him in an undignified posture with his rear end in the air, to add to his already humiliating condition. She had exhorted the people by giving them the choice between seeing their homes burned to cinders, seeing their daughters and sons raped and gutted by the barbarian mercenaries of the Warring Barons, or resisting with every drop of energy that was in them and every implement they could find that could serve to hack, stab or beat an enemy. Howling they had chosen the latter. With a kick in his butt she had made the prefect stumble down the stairs and told the people to do with him as they saw fit for a traitor who had tried to sell them as slaves. Late in the afternoon his unrecognizable, bloody remains had been found and thrown over the walls in the river. By that time the rest of the traitors hung by their necks from the city gates.
She had organized the defense of the city, had rallied every citizen, male and female, of fifteen year and older and made them man the walls. She had ordered that all children from ten and upwards were to help and assist as much as they could. She had given the example herself, and not a day went by or she was seen patrolling the walls herself. She had forced young Kurtigaill, the crown prince, to haul water and food to the sentinels for hours on end each day.
When the rebel army had arrived before Torantall and found the gates firmly closed they had laid siege to the city. After three months the food in the city was almost depleted, but a contagious disease broke out in the camp of the besiegers. After a week of this they had to abandon the siege and marched off. The citizens of Torantall thanked the Goddess Astonema and her representative Emelasuntha.
Sobrathi, already a close friend of the princess, had witnessed most of this first hand. She had also experienced her first crush, made more romantic and intense by the constant threat of destruction and death, and nights spent together on the walls with the campfires of the besiegers as background. This first love had died as soon as the immediate danger had passed, by the enormous difference in social standing and the physical distance that was caused by her friendship with a restless, traveling princess.
With a deep sigh Sobrathi returned to the present, and when her eyes focused she saw Merrick looking amused at her.
“I see that, like me, you retain fond memories of those days,” the Tektiranga smiled.
“Yes, a pity they are gone forever, but gone they are,” Sobrathi said, suddenly all businesslike again.
“So, what is it the queen wants to have done?” Merrick asked, picking in on her mood change.
“Emelasuntha wants a certain doctor to be discreetly brought to her new residence.”
“I take it that this person would have to be, eh, encouraged.”
“Not only that. Nobody must ever know that he was transported or where to.”
“In other words, he must simply vanish from the earth. Well, that is perfectly feasible. Has the queen... how shall I put this?”
“As usual the queen would be very grateful. You have a choice. She is willing to pay you in coin or in royal pardons. Three for immediate release in case of accusations that don't carry the death penalty. Plus one royal pardon for accusations that do carry the death penalty. Immediate release and immunity in said case. All to use at your own discretion. I'm sure you can see how that last one could come in handy for your own use. Sooner or later your scrawny neck is bound to be on the line.”
“Hm. May I ask why the Maiden on the Wall wants this person to disappear?”
Sobrathi thought for a moment.
“I don't see why not,” she said eventually. “He was an accomplice in an attempt to poison her son.”
The Tektiranga whistled again.
“Woe the man that touches the Lioness's Cub.”
Late in the afternoon Ehandar had ordered his horse saddled and driven out of Lorseth Castle. Once out of the camp he spurred his horse into a gallop, standing in his stirrups. He stopped at the ruins of the watchtower and dismounted panting. He felt a strange relationship with the dilapidated building that stood abandoned and lonely on its hill, surveying the surrounding landscape. He wished Gorth was there. He seemed to be better at making decisions when his friend was around. Just talking to him cleared and ordered his mind. But he didn't expect Gorth to be back before next week and by then it would be too late. Anaxantis would have moved out.
“How can I convince him to stay? His main concern seems to be that our relationship could impede his effectiveness as lord governor. And he seems set on standing his ground till the last possible moment. Eventually he will come to see what I know already. That it is of no use. That it never was of any use. That we were dealt a rotten deal. As long as he doesn't see that his pride will prevent him from calling it quits. As long as he wants to stay in the game, he will see our relationship as a threat to his chances of winning. I obviously can't remove him out of the game, but maybe I could remove myself. What if I were to resign as lord governor? Leave it all to him? Surely, that would satisfy him. He gets complete control over the ship, sinking though it may be, and I cease to be a threat to his authority. There would be no reason anymore for him to move out. I'll keep myself in the background. I'll be like a private citizen, in no way connected to his official functions. He'll have his hands free to organize the defense and I mine to prepare for our inevitable retreat. It will be like he once said. A division of tasks. Then, when disaster strikes and flight is the only remaining option, all will be ready. I'll send Gorth back to Soranza to buy an estate and to prepare everything for our arrival. He'll probably be in shock by defeat and failure, but I will be ready to look after him.”
When he arrived back at Lorseth Castle Ehandar felt a lot better. His mind was made up, his path was clear. He mounted the stairs with a light step.
Anaxantis was sitting in the big chair by the hearth.
“Make some place for me. I think I have a solution so that you won't have to move out.”
He smiled confidently at the surprised reaction of his brother.
“Ehandar... That would be wonderful, but I don't see how.”
Ehandar sat down and dragged him half on his lap.
“Then let me explain. What if I were to tell you I will resign as lord governor? That would leave you in complete control. Let's face it, I'm no good at this governorship thing anyway. Our private life here and your obligations as Lord Governor would be completely separate. Since I wouldn't be involved anymore in official business, there is no risk of, eh, awkward situations or embarrassing questions.”
His heart sank when he saw Anaxantis look at him with a mixture of sadness and disappointment.