Ludgera flushes. Judging from her expression, Briareth’s comment about the climbing boots hit the nail on the head.
"I have to be going." She announces, avoiding everyone's eye contact by fixing her dress. "I probably won't see you all for quite a while as my work is pretty much done here. Good luck."
"Hopefully we won't need it. I hate to rely on such a fickle thing." Yaluda replies as Ludgera swishes out the door. "Well," he continues, "now that that unpleasant task has been finished, Blix and I have to move out. We have a priest to blackmail. And– before you ask– No. None of you can come with us. We're supposed to be using information against him, not giving him things to use against us."
Our responses are pretty much the same as the last time he announced something like that.
"Oh, come on!"
"Sounds reasonable."
Only mine has changed. "Have a good trip." I say, and then gruffly add. "Try not to die."
"Don't worry," Yaluda flashes me a devastating grin. "I will."
----------------------------------------
BLIX
“You two have gotten closer now, haven’t you?” I say, frowning at Istere. “I specifically told you that was a bad idea.”
“You did. But he’s very easy to get close to. He’s so honest, empathetic, and understanding, even if he hides it all under a gruff front. Even you were won over by him.” Istere grins at me. Goodness, sometimes she looks so much like her late brother. I sigh, I shouldn’t let that distract me. I’m supposed to be discouraging her.
“Me? What do you mean I let myself be won over?” I ask faux indignantly.
“You specifically disobeyed my order, and let him out to spy.”
“He found a good loophole.” I say defensively. “And it was a good idea. We got valuable information.”
The current crown prince arches an eyebrow and smiles at me, and instead of retorting asks, “So where do you suppose the High priest would be currently?”
“It’s only shortly after breakfast time, Prince Yaluda,” I say, the still strange moniker sliding past my lips without hesitation, just as it has done for nearly two years now. “I would guess he is in morning prayers in his study.”
“Let’s go pay a visit to his study then.” Istere says smiling, and I wipe the nostalgic thoughts from my head. Even considering the idea of the princess as Yaluda being ‘strange’ could trip me up with a bad reaction. I must keep my thoughts in order if I am to keep her alive.
“Lead the way.” Istere startles me out of my thoughts, and I hurriedly descend the stairs with her following at my heels.
When we step outside I begin to breathe easier. Even though I can see more people outdoors, I always get the distinct feeling that less people are listening in to any of our conversations. My slipups– small, but in my eyes almost constant –are noticed less. We stroll slowly, quietly through the palace gardens and over to the priests’ corner. Their homes are stationed in the palace wall, right next to and above the tiny palace chapel. Really, it’s much smaller than the city ones. When I first saw it I was stunned, I’d been expecting something huge and extravagant. But although the inside is more than a tad gaudy in its golden splendor, it was kept small so as not to overshadow the palace as a whole, and generally, to be seen as more exclusive. If a chapel can only fit 50 or so people, then far less than that will be invited to services after all.
We enter through a door in the palace wall to the ‘priest dorms’ although technically the supposedly sparse rooms in question hold more officials of the church, and high donating guests than actual priests. And from the implications of some of the documents the crown prince is currently carrying, their rooms are probably far more lavish than the simple wooden doors that we walk past let on.
The passage is tight, cramped, and musty. It was built as the opposite of ostentatious so that it would communicate devotion instead of pride. It was a good intention to be sure, but now as Istere follows me, I worry at the lack of passage branches, and the terribly small amount of room to swing a sword if we are ambushed. My instincts scream at me, knowing that this place is a den of drug addicts and hostiles who plan on disposing of my charge as soon as her father is out of the way. I caution Istere to be quiet, as quiet as she can, as we travel deeper and higher in the wall. At one point, I stop her, and duck behind a stairway as someone descends. I can’t catch a glimpse of their face, but they don’t see us either, so it is okay. Then we head up to the next level.
The top level, right underneath the guards pathway on top of the wall, holds only two rooms, one at either end of a passage. Normally, it’s wide enough for two people, but the stairway in the center of it narrows it down to one. The air here smells a lot worse. It’s not musty, the arrow slits at this level prevent that. But they let in the city air, which is much more polluted from all the industries that the capital holds. I’ve long wondered how the smog– which pervades the city's surroundings for miles around– seems to disappear entirely once you enter the castle grounds. It almost feels like sorcery, but I shudder to consider the cost of such constant upkeep. Breathing this dirty air again reminds me of my questions, and I wonder if this sort of slip up in whatever filters the castle has is intentional, to discourage unwanted explorers from entering this area.
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I confidently lead us to the door nearest to the end of the stairs, and then freeze. Voices nearby are getting closer. I grab Istere’s arm and yank her back down the passageway towards the opposite end. She understands the gravity of the situation, and doesn’t protest as I rush us both to the opposite door, yank it open, and softly almost close it behind us.
I scan the room we’re in quickly. Empty– except for a few cleaning tools and a couple of cabinets. It’s more of a closet than a room. I briefly wonder why it is on the same floor as the high priest, but don’t have time to consider the implications. The voices have gotten louder, and one of them is instantly recognizable.
Istere gasps, and then immediately covers her mouth with a hand as if to stifle the already escaped noise. She’s peering through the crack I left in the door, her eyes wide and almost pained. I grimace. Too late to avoid that drama. Already half knowing what I’m going to see, I duck below Istere’s head so I can peer out as well.
The queen is walking away from the High priest’s quarters, the man in question at her side.
“Your majesty, the next special adoration of the god Bureck is taking place at next week's new moon. May I presume you’ll be there?”
She smiles at him beatifically. “Of course, I would never miss a special service.”
“Excellent.” I can feel the High Priest’s slimy smile from here, and I shudder, unnerved. “Until then, this should tide you over.” He passes something to her, and her hand snatches it before I can make out its shape.
“Thank you.” She says simply, her eyes fastened on the object now clutched in her palms. He waves her off as she turns and descends the stairs.
“What was that all about?” I mutter as the Head Priest goes back into his room. I straighten up and step away from the door.
Istere stares after her mother, glumly. “I’ve tried to warn her about him before, but she never listens. Now, they’re even having secret meetings?”
I shake my head. “Just because we didn’t know about it, doesn’t mean they’re secret. Plenty of people come to visit the priest in his study when they want to meet for a private confession. It doesn’t have to be anything dramatic.”
“Perhaps it is nothing. But then what did he give her?”
“I don’t know.” I admit. “But the way I see it, we can either go follow and confront her and ask about it, or we can continue with our main objective.” Istere looks torn, watching as the door swings shut behind our prey. “What will it be, Your Highness?” I prompt.
She grimaces, obviously pained by her decision. “The high priest. We know he’s alone now. We can’t miss this opportunity.” I don’t correct her. The high priest could have someone else meeting with the queen and himself who just didn’t come out to see her off. It’s unlikely, but it could be true. However, correcting her to acknowledge this other option would distract from the firmness of her decision and sow doubt in her mind. I need her confident and strong if we are to pull this off. So, instead, I pat her back, a silent praise for her decision not to go after her mother.
“Let’s wait here a while longer, we don’t want to make it obvious we saw their meeting.” I caution.
“Smart.” Istere smiles at me, and finally backs away from the door. We wait, a long, boring five minutes. I count the seconds as they pass, and, by the time I’m done, Istere has paced the room twenty-seven times.
We leave our storage room, and quickly and quietly head over to the High Priest’s chamber. Istere enters without knocking, her back straight, her eyes burning with intensity. Here stands a true Crown Prince, risking everything for the peace and prosperity of her country’s citizens.
I watch in the background, a silent, guarded threat, as Istere, blatantly lays down the few papers she brought with her from Ludgera’s piles. They are important papers, they show the authenticity of our threat. They are not, however, the most dangerous ones. It was my idea to leave those behind in case the High Priest attempts to get rid of us and the incriminating evidence in one fell swoop. I watch as Istere takes a leaf out of Faladel’s book, and blatantly lies, telling the high priest that if we don’t return, she’s instructed that a few members of the PPG ‘leak’ these other papers straight into the hands of the Kings’ secret service, who will have no problem making them public to diminish the church’s power and popularity among the masses.
“If you continue with this nonsense about getting rid of me once my father has died, if I so much as hear any whispers of plans between you and House Yamat, make no mistake, these papers will do more than see the light of day. They will be spread to all corners of the land. You will be ruined. You will face trial. And any sort of jury would be bound to convict you with this evidence. There will be riots in the streets and people hollering for your blood.” A spark of anger and defiance, probably stemming from pride, rises in the High Priest's eyes, although his benign smile never breaks. I put a hand on my sword warningly. The spark dies out as Istere continues.
“If you side with me, break off this treason with Yamat, these papers will never see the light of day. I guarantee it on my name. More than that, you will be allowed to continue avoiding taxes in this fashion while I’m in office, although I expect the drug rings to either be reduced by a severe amount or wiped out entirely.”
The priest looks, his gaze intensifying as he lets his mask drop for a few seconds, straight into Istere’s golden eyes. He appears to be actually considering the offer. “I suppose,” He begins, his mask sliding back into place as if it were never gone, “that you won’t do the favor of telling me where exactly you got these papers from on account of our new friendship, young Prince?”
“You will address him as ‘Your Highness,’ or alternatively ‘Your Majesty’ as would benefit his station.” I warn, hand sliding once more to my weapon.
“Of course, of course, don’t get up on your high horses. It was a simple mistake!” The priest laughs, an almost genuine deep laugh. “Your Highness, please, call off your lackey.”
At least that last part was sincere. I think to myself as Istere gestures at me to stand down, and I slowly release my sword.
“Then you accept our proposal.” Istere says, and although it isn’t a question, the priest confirms it.
“Seems like I have no choice.” He smiles, and although it is intended to look menacing, underneath I think I detect some greed. Our offer was better than he was expecting. Most likely, he thought we’d only come with threats, only sticks. But Istere brought carrots too.
“Oh, there is always a choice.” Istere says, and I have to fight to control my expression at her unintentional hypocrisy. “You just chose the one that saves your skin a little longer.” My Prince might hate Ludgera, but she definitely took notes when she was threatened by her.