Frances was quite taken aback by Minairen. It seemed to look almost cramped as she, Hattie and Morgan approached the city. To her eye, the gentle hills that also surrounded the city’s many multi-story brick buildings seemed to almost push the city against the green-blue blue lake it clung against.
Yet as they drew closer to the city walls and the line of travellers at the gate, she quickly realised that the distance had tricked her. The gentle hills were in fact quite steep. While buildings clung to several of the more gentle hills, the highest hills sported several walled mansions and towers.
“Is that the Palace Complex?” Hattie asked, pointing into the distance.
Morgan bobbed her head. “Yeah. Pretty neat isn’t it?”
“They are quite impressive. Now, get your papers ready.” Frances handed the forged identification papers, bearing stolen stamps captured in one of their more recent supply raids to her girls. “Remember, you’re Anna,” she whispered to Morgan. “And you’re Lacria.”
Hattie made sure the cloth wrapping Silver Star’s cap and guard was secure. “Your daughters adopted by necessity. War orphans.”
Frances briefly shut her eyes. “Not too far from the truth.”
Morgan snorted. “That’s easy to remember. And you are Celesta. Country healer.”
“Indeed. We get in, we find an inn and we rest up before we start the next phase of the plan. Find out where Timur is.” Frances touched the tips of her fake ears. “Here goes nothing.”
----------------------------------------
It was a bit tense getting into Minairen with the forged papers. Morgan had wondered for a moment on how had the guards not noticed the sweat on her brow. Her heart had been pounding so hard she’d wondered why the guards hadn’t heard it.
Yet, now they were through and into the city.
It was hard to describe how Minairen felt. She’d lived in the city before her kidnapping but those memories seemed almost faded, like she could almost just remember them but not quite.
Minairen’s streets were busy as she always remembered. People rushing by each other through roadways wide and narrow. Shops, stores and stalls lined the paths, filled with vendors, merchants and craftspeople selling their wares. Brick and stone buildings were bunched together so close they seemed to overhang the streets.
Yet once in a while, the trio would come into a quiet borough, with a few Alavari just going about their business, or sharing a conversation.
Hattie, blinking, let out a long exhale as she rubbed her hands. “Remind me, why are we going so far into the city again?”
“We need to find an inn a bit closer to the Palace District, but not too close.” Frances gently squeezed Hattie’s shoulder. “But if this is a bit overwhelming for you Hattie, we can go to that one.”
Morgan arched an eyebrow at the sword and tankard sign hanging from a two-story building sandwiched between a stable and what looked like to be a warehouse. While the sign and the windows were clean, there was not a lot of traffic coming in and out of the building.
She glanced at Hattie. Then again, her friend looked so overwhelmed that it was probably a good idea to just take a break.
“Are you sure?” the half-troll asked, massaging a temple.
“Yes,” said Morgan, smiling. “We can spare another day.”
Hattie gave an audible sigh. “Thanks. I’m sorry. I’m not sure what came over me.”
“Large cities and crowds can be quite stressful. It’s alright, Hattie. Let’s get our horses stabled,” said Frances.
The orc groom took in their horses and carriage for a few coins. The innkeep gave them a room for a few more. After Hattie, Morgan and Frances carried their gear to their rooms, then went down to the common room.
There weren’t a lot of Alavari in the space. Long trestle tables and smaller circular ones sat empty, with the stools or chipped chairs placed atop of them. It just what looked like a large group of Alavari sitting on one of the tables. Another teenage troll in a dress was sitting at the counter, nursing a tankard.
Frances was about to step into the room when she paused,her hand reaching into her bag. “Ah, Morgan, Hattie I have a call to take. You can have dinner first. If there are any problems, see me immediately.”
Hattie bobbed her head. Morgan snorted, before forcing a smile on her lips. “Of course, Frances.”
Frances chuckled. “See you soon,” and took off to their room.
“What would you like?” Morgan asked Hattie as they walked up to the barkeep’s counter.
“Well, I’ve never had Minairen eel skewers. Are they really as good as they say they are?” Hattie asked.
Her uncle had gotten Morgan some years ago and the memory made the harpy-troll sigh. “Yeah, they’re pretty good.” She looked to the barkeep, a bearded goblin. “Five eel skewers.”
“Coming right up, after I help this customer.” The barkeep turned and walked to the end of the table. Hattie and Morgan sat down, about to settle into a wait.
That was when their very sharp half-troll hearing picked up the innkeep’s words.
“And what about you, Captain Tara?”
Hattie and Morgan froze, eyes glancing sideways at the female troll leaned heavily against the counter. She was in a dress. Yet, now they were really examining her, they could see that the saber hanging from her leather scabbard was the same pattern used by Alavari army officers.
The troll chuckled. “You know it’s just Tara, Terup. You’ve known me for far too long to start calling me captain now.”
“True.” Terup smirked, his eyes narrowing. “ By the way, you really sure you don’t want to sell that thing to me?”
The troll hesitated, before rolling her eyes. “You wouldn’t be able to afford my price, Terup! I mean, it’s solid silver. Just give me another beer.”
Taking the coins that Tara pressed onto the table, Terup sighed. “Fine fine, but let me see that thing. I mean, it’s the closest I’ll ever get to that dreaded Stormcaller.
Tara pinched the bridge of her nose before reaching into a pocket on her dress. “Sure, but not a word to anybody,” she rasped. Her voice would have been too hushed for anybody but for Hattie and Morgan’s half-troll ears to hear.
The goblin blew a puff of hair and leaned forward. “I helped raise you. I’m not going to put a death warrant on your head.”
Hattie and Morgan’s eyes grew wide as the troll pulled out a silver locket and opened it for the goblin. They were too far to see the contents exactly, but they knew that locket well.
It’s matching clone, with a lock of Timur’s hair and a duplicate portrait was hanging around the necks of their adoptive mother.
“It’s a pity for the prince and Stormcaller. They look like a great couple,” muttered Terup.
“Yeah, they do, don't they? Utterly terrifying though.” Tara groaned and got up. “On second thoughts, keep that beer for me, I need to use the washcloset.” The troll got up and walked to a corridor shooting off from the common area.
Morgan stared at the exit for what seemed like a minute, when she felt a weight clamp down on her wrist.
“Let’s go.”
Morgan had been so transfixed by the sight of her uncle’s locket that Hattie’s touch had made her jump. Looking into her crush’s dark-blue eyes, she found them narrowed at the washroom corridor.
“What are you—” Hattie was already moving so quickly that the barkeep who was going back into the kitchen hadn’t noticed her. “Shit.” The harpy-troll leapt off her stool. “We’ll be right back for that eel, thanks!”
Turning the corner, Morgan saw Hattie’s back boot going into the female washroom. She just managed to catch Hattie before she went into the bathroom.
“Ha—Lacria, don’t be crazy! Let’s get mom first. She’ll know what to do.”
Hattie blinked and groaned. “Shit. Sorry, I…I just got so angry. She took that locket from your uncle, and probably helped capture him.”
The fury burning in the back of her throat made Morgan bite her lip. “I know. I know. But we can’t get him out if we are discovered. Come on, let’s get mom.”
----------------------------------------
After bidding her troops goodnight, Captain Tara trudged back to her room at the inn. Terup’s place was rough, but it was the closest thing she and the others had to a home.
Besides, it wasn’t like they had somewhere to go. They had a year’s leave and pay for what they’d done. Yet, with the war having driven up the prices in the city, this was all they could afford. Besides, they were just staying long enough to plan their escape from Minairen. They all had had enough of Thorgoth.
She returned a passing troll’s good night with an “Evening” as she turned down the corridor. Two young Alavari, a harpy-troll and what looked like a half-troll were talking by their room farther down the corridor. Tara remembered they were at the bar before.
“Evening.”
The pair stopped talking. Their eyes narrowed, they stood cut off the corridor. One drew her wand, the other had been carrying a staff.
Stepping back, Tara drew her saber. The tip wavered. She was slightly buzzed, but the pair were quite young. They most likely were magically gifted thieves looking to earn a quick buck.
“Stealing from me is a big mistake. I’m a captain in his majesty’s army and this building is full of my troops! Back off!”
The harpy-troll and half-troll stopped and glanced at one another. Yet, they were smiling.
“I wouldn’t say we are stealing,” said the harpy-troll.
“Rather, we’re returning that locket,” said the half-troll. She looked back at Tara. “Mom?”
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Tara spun around to find an estoc at her throat. The troll she’d passed by pressed a finger to her lips. Her amber eyes narrowed at her.
“Don’t bother screaming. I’ve silenced the corridor behind me. Go to your room. Don’t do anything sudden.” Tara swallowed, turned and walked slowly to her room.
The younger Alavari shut the door behind her and the trio crowded into the one-bed room, with the older troll now producing a wand from its holster at her side.
“Lacria, watch outside please. Anna you’re with me.” The troll woman sheathed her estoc and pulled at something from her neck. Tara’s eyes widened as the last person she expected to see dangled a very familiar silver locket in front of her.
“You know who I am. Now talk. Where did you take Prince Timur to?” Frances Stormcaller demanded.
“I can explain. Just…let me get this letter from my pocket. Your lover wrote this.” With shaking hands, Tara pulled the letter from her pouch and handed it to Frances. “Please don’t hurt me.”
Still glancing at Tara, Frances read the note and arched an eyebrow.
“So the rumors about the Orphan Battalions were true. Shit. I’m afraid I can’t get you out of Minairen right now. I need to rescue Timur first. You best get out when you can.” Frances handed the letter to Morgand. “Where’s Timur?”
“Of course. Um, we took him to the Palace Complex. Last I heard he’s being held in the Blue House under heavy guard.”
Morgan pursed her lips. “The Blue House is another of the smaller palaces deep in the Royal Quarter. It’s deserted and not particularly comfortable.”
Frances nodded, her gaze settling back on Tara. “Do you know if Thorgoth is torturing him?”
Tara shook her head. “I don’t think so. I…I’m sorry. I didn’t have a choice.”
“No, you did. You just had no good choices to make.” Frances sighed and held out her hand. “Give me that locket. Can you keep this conversation a secret?”
The troll captain quickly dropped the locket into Frances’s hands. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” Frances stood up. “Thank you for treating him kindly. Now, not a word to anybody. If you are wondering how to explain the locket, say it was stolen.”
Tara swallowed. She almost nodded. She almost stayed quiet and let the Stormcaller just walk out of the room with her compatriot.
Yet something deep within her heart made her stand as well. It stiffened her shoulders and made her hold her head high.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
----------------------------------------
Sitting on their beds in the room, Morgan and Hattie narrowed their eyes at a sheepish looking Frances.
“Frances, this might be a mistake,” said Morgan.
Frances sighed. “Morgan, taking her offer represents a pretty good opportunity.”
The harpy-troll grimaced and then said slowly, and very deliberately, “Mom. We can’t just trust her.”
Frances swallowed. Her gaze dropped to the floor for a moment before she met Morgan’s eye again. “We need to find a way in and she will probably make it much easier for us.” Arching her eyebrow, the Otherworlder asked, “Also did you just try to convince me by calling me mom?”
Groaning, Morgan made a face and just managed to resist the urge to stick her tongue out. “Didn’t work, did it?”
Unable to help but smile, Frances gently patted Morgan’s head. “No it didn’t, but if Tara lets us in, at least we can all sneak into the Royal Quarter.”
“Would she even be able to get us into a palace, though?” Hattie stood up. She couldn’t pace in such a confined space so she sortof stepped side to side between the beds. “Morgan, you told me that even when you’re in the quarter things are very heavily monitored. Even if we get into the Royal Quarter how do we get close to Timur? How do we know they haven’t moved him?”
Frances pinched the bridge of her nose. “For all we know it could be a trap.”
Hattie frowned. “So why do you trust her then?”
Gesturing to the letter, Frances showed her girls the note. “Timur wouldn’t have written this if he didn’t think we should let her go.”
“That still doesn’t change the fact we need to get into the Royal Quarter and into a palace.” Morgan blinked and buried her face in her hands. “Alright, now I see why you thought this was such a bad idea mom.”
“Indeed. The thing is leaving your uncle in his father’s captivity is a hell of a risk, and not just because I love him.” Frances closed her eyes. “Yes, we need to get him out soon, risks or not.”
----------------------------------------
Timur swirled the wine in his glass. His right foot nervously tapped on the marble tiled floor.
There was no immediate reason for him to be nervous. He was having dinner in the Blue House. Some roasted chicken and vegetables were being served from two square dishes. The dishes themselves were silver and they hadn’t turned black, which eliminated some of the most common poisons.
Swallowing, the prince walked down the dining room hall and to the windows. The windows were stained a deep blue and also covered with satin sapphire-colored curtains. It was these windows and curtains that had given the Blue House its name. If he recalled correctly, Prince Thelamakus had specially commissioned this windows and in the past, the entire house had blue carpeting and decor.
Pushing the curtain aside, Timur peaked out and grimaced. A ring of tents with guards surrounded the mansion. There was no way he was getting out. But neither was anybody trying to torture him.
Letting go of the curtain, Timur walked back to his seat and just because he could, rested his feet on the table. A few weeks ago, he’d been hauled into the palace and basically left to his devices. Meals were delivered to the front door by guards who left immediately. He would clean the dishes and put them in the cupboard, but there was nobody else to attend to him. The one time he’d opened the door to try to return the dishes, he’d been met with spearpoint.
“What the hell do you want me here for, father?” the prince muttered. He twiddled his thumbs. He expected his father to torture him, curse him or kill him if he was being honest. Sure, Thorgoth could be trying to make him dread what was coming, but this didn’t seem his style.
The prince was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t immediately notice the sound of footsteps in the palace.
When he did, Timur scrambled to his feet. His hands forming fists, he walked slowly to the main hall.
The Blue House had a grand staircase adorned with a massive crystal chandelier. Again, the chandelier was accented with sapphires and blue gems set into silver holders.
At the head of the staircase, striding stately down wing of the staircase from the second floor was one of the last Alavari Timur expected to see. In fact, he was so surprised he took a step back.
“Queen Berengaria?”
The harpy ruffled her black and silver wings officiously and stopped. Timur found himself looking up at Berengaria, lest he just end up staring at her chest. Her tight fitting corset embroidered with silver accents and clinging purple dress certainly didn’t help.
“Prince Timur. I apologize for the surprise. I let myself in using a window. Are you enjoying your stay in the Blue House?”
Timur pursed his lips. Olgakaren’s mother was always quite hard to understand. On one hand, she was the parent of one of his best friends. Yet, the younger harpy had sent countless letters to her mother to try to switch sides. There were polite replies and yet Berengaria had wavered in her loyalty to Thorgoth, to whom she was married.
It’d been years since he’d seen the harpy queen and few things had changed about her. There were some more grey hairs in her raven-colored hair. Yet her hourglass figure and piercing gold eyes brought him back to when he was a child, watching her command servants and nobles in the Royal Quarter.
Straightening, the prince rested his hands behind his back. “I am. Though, I must admit that you are the last Alavari I expected to meet.”
Berengaira chuckled, covering her mouth with her wingtip. “You expected your father. He doesn’t have time to waste on you I’m afraid.”
Timur arched an eyebrow. “I suppose I am both relieved and disappointed. I was anticipating our next encounter. I had a few new things to call him.” The prince took an experimental step forward and the harpy queen didn’t move an iota. “Queen Berengaria…I’ve always respected you and your leadership of the harpy aeries. You’ve shown yourself to be wise and careful, stern without being cruel.”
Berengaria dipped her head. A coy smile wormed itself over features as she brushed a strategically styled lock of greying hair aside. “Oh, you flatter me dear prince.”
“Of course, it rather baffles me that you can’t see my father’s insanity for what it is. Subjugating and wiping out the humans is cruel, impractical and frankly has cost our nation everything.” Timur narrowed his eyes, watching Berengaria continue to smile at him. He studied her golden eyes and felt a chill run up his spine. “Unless that is, you know all of his plans and are carrying it out anyway.”
Berengaria’s smile widened just a little. Yet the white teeth that she showed made Timur grip his hands behind his back all the more tightly.
“Ah. Well damn. May I at least know why? I doubt you are going to keep me alive for much longer.”
“Oh Timur, how little you know. A wife must support her husband. After all, we are married.”
The prince frowned and found himself locking his jaw. Sure, Berengaria was one of his father’s oldest allies. However, while the harpy was married to Thorgoth, she’d been one of his father’s most recent marriages. His youngest half-sister, Terroria, his father’s current heir, was her youngest daughter and Olgakaren’s half sister. The marriage was a political one meant to tie the harpy aeries to his father.
Timur’s eyes widened. Terroria was now his father’s heir, instead of her older half-siblings.
“You’re in love with him? But how?”
“And he’s very much in love with me, dear Timur.”
“He’s a monster. Don’t you know he had Archmage Zirabelle—”
Berengaria flared her wings. A blast of wind slapped across Timur’s face as the harpy extended her full wingspan, showing off her beautifully menacing speckled plumage.
“That bitch and her lapdog Star assassinated our Ulania, prince Timur. She betrayed Alavaria and her oaths to the royal family.” Berengaria chuckled. “She deserved what she got.”
Wiping his eyes, Timur tried to look up at the harpy. Yet, his mind was racing. He recalled glances between Berengaria and his father. Images of how close she stood to his father whenever she was in the palace came flooding back.
“Our Ulania?” Timur whispered. His shoulder sagged. “Oh. Oh I have been a fool.”
The harpy queen grinned. “Well, you are smarter than most. Most of the time we don’t even try to hide it.”
“For how long?”
“Oh forever. Your father and Ulania distracted folk because they were far more public in their displays of affection. They kept trying to protect me from what happened to your grandmother.” Berengaria sighed. “I know they were right and they needed someone they trusted to watch their backs, but am I so glad the secrecy is mostly over.”
Timur scowled, trying to keep the venom that hissed into his tone. “Then all of this…the war, the murder, my father’s torture and assassination of his own children was out of revenge? Revenge for a murdering psychopath who strung up live humans for horrid experiments?”
The prince jumped as Berengaria snorted. The harpy bent down, wings wrapping around herself as she laughed. She laughed so hard the silver crown adorning her head looked like it was a few degrees from falling off.
Wiping her eyes with the trailing edge of her wing, Berengaria wheezed. “Revenge? Oh revenge? You think this is all about revenge? How quaint. We would just kill Zirabelle and Star if this was truly just about revenge. We’d hurt a few others for fun but we wouldn’t go to war out of revenge.”
Timur was shaking. He couldn’t help it. Berengaria was so calm. She was still smiling and her eyes still peered down at him. “Then explain to me what could possibly make you both kill your own people, break your country apart and murder your own children?”
“Well, what would drive Frances Stormcaller to come rescue you? What would make her come to Minairen even if it meant coming into the heart of enemy territory?”
Timur’s legs felt like rubber and as he rubbed his palms, his fingers felt like they were slimy.
“Impossible.”
“Tell me, Timur, if your beloved Frances had a last request before she passed. Wouldn’t you follow it? Do anything in your power to attain it?”
“Well…yes, but not something like this! She would never—”
“You’re missing the point, you poor thing. Let me simplify things for you. You would do anything for Frances because you love her. You love Frances because of who she is.” Berengaria took several steps down and leaned down so she could look Timur in the eye. “We loved Ulania because she was Ulania. We would have done anything for Ulania. She would have done anything for us.”
“She tortured people and subjected them to insane experiments! She was a madwoman! Star and Zirabelle had to put her down—”
Berengaria whipped out her wand from her leg holster. Golden magic lifted Timur and slammed him into the floor. Holstering her weapon, the queen peered down at the prince as he groaned and struggled to get to his feet.
“Say another slur against our beloved again and I’ll have your tongue ripped out. You have no idea what she did for your father and I.”
“The one fucking good thing she did was to give birth to my half-brother, who dad murdered and then sold his daughter to Earl Darius!” Timur got to his feet, only for Berengaria to leap into the air. The harpy dived down the stairs, withdrawn claws slamming the prince into the floor. Timur gasped, struggling to breathe as Berengaria stood on him. Her cold half-lidded eyes peered down. Just as he saw spots, she took one claw off, but kept the other pressed on his collarbone.
“Oh how little you know about the greatness of your father and Queen Ulania. But then again, you grew up ignorant to what we suffered. When I was kidnapped and raped again, and again until time lost its meaning, your father and Ulania came for me. Your father carried my broken body out of the kidnappers strongholds taking arrow after arrow in his back as he did so. Then Ulania healed me, held me when I realized enough to cry. They made me feel loved and wanted.” Berengaria smiled, her eyes moist. “Your father trained me how to fight. He taught me that I was strong and dangerous. Then Ulania made sure I could look my rapists in the eye and strangle them with these very claws. Over the course of the Strife, she took so many daggers and spells for your father and I that her body looked like a patchwork quilt. Still she got revenge for your grandmother’s assassins and never missed a tea appointment with me.”
A serene smile on her face, Berengaria took her claw off Timur. Casually turning her back on the gasping prince, she strolled up the grand stairs. “She did tell us to subjugate every human on Durannon, which is a tall order. But you know what? If I had to do it all again, if we had to do it all again, we would do it and do better. After all, we loved that woman.”
Clasping his chest, Timur staggered to his feet. “Frances—everybody. We’re going to stop you.”
Berengaria threw a casual glance over her shoulder. “How will the Stormcaller stop me when she’s coming to rescue you?” Flapping her wings, the harpy leapt into the air, soaring to the second floor and out of sight.
Timur wiped his face with the back of his sleeve. “Fuck. Frances for the love of Galena I hope you’re not coming for me.”