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FALADEL
It is surprisingly easy to get past the guards. Uggard and I find regular guard uniforms in a handily placed disguise room in a secret corridor. Apparently, the PPG members have a system of these running all around the castle. Eventually he and I both frown at my appearance in a mirror.
“You’re still too–”
“Too tall, I know.” I say, trying to slouch a little more to disguise it. Even during my twenty-two years of imprisonment, I’d never cursed my extra finger length of elvish height as much as I’ve done in these past two months. It’s kept me out of so much of the action, forced me to stay hidden in the back while everyone else does all the hard work.
We soon give up on making me smaller, and decide that as long as I stay in the shadows and don’t draw attention to myself, we should be alright. This means Uggard will have to do most of the talking, which he obviously isn’t looking forward to, but, as I said, it goes surprisingly smoothly.
Apparently, things have heated up faster than we expected. There’s barely anyone out on the castle grounds, and when Uggard says that the King sent us to interrogate the prisoners as to the Prince’s whereabouts, they’re too busy to question us further. Something about missing soldiers. I want to stop to listen in some more, but Uggard is desperate, and I can understand his worries without him having to say a word. With things going crazy like this, it’s more and more likely that the King will decide to just get rid of anyone that could be a problem. That includes all his captive friends.
When we arrive at their cell, cell 17Q, I’m surprised to realize that it’s the exact cell we were trapped in for two months. Of course, the cells around it have also been utilized since there are around thirty men in here, but Blix and four other men are in the one we’d been in, and they’re taking turns trying to leverage an old belt buckle against the slightly filed through bar.
“Faladel?” Blix says, “and Talk? What are you doing here?”
“We’re breaking you out.” I say before Uggard can stutter out an answer. If Briareth was here, he’d probably say something like ‘returning the favor.’ I think ironically to myself. As I take out the key and help unlock all the cells, I wonder about why Istere was trying to separate Briareth and I like that. He would have been much more suited to a mission like this, and it looks like she knew it. He’ll tell me if anything important happens. I reassure myself.
We slowly send the guards out, twos and threes, just a few more soldiers moving around in the chaos. It was my idea, and Blix was able to set up an emergency signal in case one of them gets noticed as a PPG member. Almost none of them were in their uniforms when they were captured, they were taken from their barracks, dressed in their nightclothes. Blix and I decided to hold all the uniformed ones back until the end. Better a few dwarves who looked like they slept-in wandering around then a couple obviously escaped prisoners walking out.
Once most of the dwarves have left, he taps me on the shoulder, and leads me off to one corner of the room.
“We have a problem.” He says
“Yes, a lot of problems.” I confirm.
“No, a more serious problem.” He says, “Lord Yamat has summoned all soldiers that secretly bear allegiance to him instead of to the king, that’s why so many are missing, that’s why the castle’s all freaked out.”
“There’s a bit more that the castle’s freaking out about, you missed quite a bit while you were locked up in here.” I say, and then frown, the full weight of what he just said hitting me. “Why would Lord Yamat want all his soldiers?”
My brain races in the background as Blix says something about him not knowing, big things going on, and I tune him out.
Yamat, Agnark, the church finding out about Istere’s identity. That all made sense, but there were new pieces now. I’d done research while stuck in the study behind the library. I’d figured out most of the major players on the dwarven political chessboard. Yamat, although they had branches pretty much everywhere, were the only ones who ran the news and the propaganda stream for the throne.
My brain jumps to another topic, getting ahead of itself. Ludgera would never have betrayed us, she had no reason. But she must have been upset. After all, because of her boyfriend’s betrayal, she lost out on a very nice deal that would have seated her neatly as one of the richest ladies in dwarven territory in a very short amount of time. If she’d guilt-tripped him, or tried to get back on our good side somehow, so that Istere would keep up her end of the bargain, how would she go about doing it?
My thoughts finally catch up to where my gut knew they were going. What if, they’d done something? Ludgera turned Agnark around. They could probably get the information on the paper, some of it they would already know. Agnark had all the information his father was privy to, especially since his father would trust him after he betrayed his secret sweetheart to rat us out. And now, right after the paper rains down all over the area, incriminating both the King and the church, who are allies with Yamat…
Stolen story; please report.
If Lord Yamat’s brain has any function other than controlling his body, he’d either be using this chaos to stage a revolt and grab the crown for himself, or getting revenge on his traitorous child, or both. Depending on his priorities.
Agnark and Ludgera could be in danger right now and not know it.
“We need to go tell them.” I say aloud.
“Tell who?” Blix asks, not following my trail of reasoning.
“Agnark, Ludgera, they’re trying to make it up to us, gave us a golden opportunity to stage a coup. Cast the King in such a bad light that he’ll never recover completely. Lord Yamat has probably figured out that they’re the ones behind it. He may try for revenge.”
“Why is that our problem?” Blix asks.
“Because we owe them. We can’t just let them die.” I say. Blix hesitates, thinking it over. I hope I’ve convinced him. It would be awfully hard to find Ludgera Tirade’s house on my own. Especially without getting noticed.
Uggard Talk must have been listening in silently again. That seems to be a particular talent of his, disappearing in plain sight.
“His Highness wanted some people to go and help the author of the pamphlet anyway, and I was supposed to go to the King next and request an audience. We can save time by splitting up here.” He suggests. “You go warn the author, this Agnark Ludgera fellow. I’ll report back to His Highness once I’ve successfully set up a meeting with the King.” I’m flummoxed for a brief second, and then remember that not everybody knows that Istere is a female, and Uggard probably misheard and didn’t realize that there were two authors. Probably. I could be wrong about Agnark and Ludgera being the authors, but my gut and brain say I’m right.
Blix makes his decision, and I smile, seeing in his eyes the answer before his mouth even opens. “If His Highness says we should go to the authors, let’s go to the authors.”
“Wait, authors, plural? That wasn’t one name?” Uggard says, finally catching on.
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BALDERK
We wait. Briareth paces. Istere stews. I try to concentrate on a book. This study is simply full of them, but I’m too wired up. Where are Faladel, Uggard and Blix? They should have been back by now. We should have heard something.
All heads twist towards the door as there’s a timid knock on the other side. Istere goes and opens it. “Your Highness, there you are, we’ve been looking for you all over the place.” A voice says. Briareth and I head over as well. It’s not Faladel, Blix, and Uggard, but it’s someone.
“Weren't most of you captured?” Istere asks, suspicious, despite the fact that the person is wearing the PPG uniform and looks vaguely familiar.
“We were Your Highness.” The man confirms. “Uggard, and a strange guy– I didn’t recognize him but he was oddly tall. They rescued us, talked with Blix for a bit, and then the tall guy and Blix took off. Uggard disappeared after that, and well…” His voice trails off. I see his adam's apple bob as he swallows. “One of Your Father’s personal guards left this for you. The man said to make sure you received it.”
He holds out an oddly shaped package, wrapped in a brown leather bag with ominous stains on it. Istere’s gaze hardens, and with a swift order to “Stand guard here until I call for you.” She takes the package, and closes the door in his face.
Through the door we hear a muffled, “Yes Your Highness.”
Istere swiftly carries the package to the table and rips off the leather bag. Beneath it lies Uggard’s severed head, his face twisted in a painful scream for all of eternity. A note slips out and starts drifting to the floor, but Istere snatches it and reads it aloud.
“We will meet, and on the terms you suggested, but never forget who holds the real power in this castle. See you in thirty minutes in the Throne Room.” She crumples the note in one fist, hatred rising in her face. “Very soon that power you hold dear will be stripped from you, Dad.” She hisses, practically spitting the final word.
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Faladel
The city streets are a mess. People are shouting, things are being thrown at anyone who looks associated with the guard. Riots. Mobs. More than a few fires are burning. The normally smoggy air is made even worse by the smoke. It’s difficult to breathe, and the crowds make it impossible to run. We can’t even take to the roofs, the risk is too great. Upset people do crazy things, and these people are more than upset, they’re furious, they’re scared, and they’re armed.
I just consider it lucky enough that Blix had the bright idea to change us into commoner’s clothes and out of our uniforms before we left. Otherwise we’d be like the soldiers in these streets, either running around, desperately trying to regroup, or dead like the dwarf I just stepped on. I feel my facial muscles twist in disgust and fight the urge to retch. Normally, violence like this wouldn’t faze me at all. I’ve fought on the front lines. I’ve seen my share of death and blood. I’ve felt my share of loss.
But the stench of blood, combined with the smoke and the ever-constant smog of Abahak, along with the knowledge that this death was probably useless? Now that’s sickening.
It takes hours to get to the townhouse of Ludgera Tirade’s parents. Luckily for Ludgera and Agnark, the Tirades aren’t a large noble family, which means the mobs have bigger, wealthier houses to focus on looting and burning. It also helps that they are on the very edge of the city, right next to its wall and main gate, most of the violence is in the center, nearer to the castle. If they could get past the castle walls and the soldiers which have probably gathered to guard them, I daresay the mobs would already be in the castle itself.
However, the Tirades have other problems to worry about. Like I feared, and like I suspected, Lord Yamat wants to make good on his revenge. Troops surround the small manor, and although they’re dressed like castle guards, one of them, a dwarf on horseback, carries the insignia of house Yamat on a flag nearby. The Unending Eyes. The servants are corralled in one section, being watched by a large portion of the fifty or so soldiers here. One of them has had to be physically restrained, but she’s still kicking and screaming through the hand over her mouth, and only gets louder and more violent when she sees us.
But the main attraction of this display of power is Lord Valdkin Yamat himself, sitting tall and proud on horseback. In front of his horse, on bended knees, arms tied behind their backs, but with fire still lit in their eyes are Agnark and Ludgera.