The dinner conversation was interesting, but I fell asleep while the two-footeds talked. Before we left Gorgurak, we agreed that the person to persuade Duke Valgard was Garshom. I did not know this before, but Garshom and Valgard served as squires together in Tammerhof when they were boys. They both fought in the Elven Border War. Garshom introduced Dora to Valgard many years ago. Theirs was an old and firm friendship.
I had no talking to do in the schmooze-the-nobility part of our plan. I was on the harass-the-Regent part of the plan. Instead of listening to yabbering after dinner, my boy handed me the pouch with the crystal ball, and I retreated to our bedroom.
Scrying showed me the Regent and her blizzard. She passed between her study and bedroom wearing a sable cloak and sable hat, which protected her from the continuous snow. Everything was soaked in her quarters. The snow never stopped, and then it melted. I counted three mattresses on Griselda's balcony set out to dry. Bed linens were on clotheslines everywhere.
Griselda was reaching a breaking point. She screamed at her maids and ladies-in-waiting constantly. It also appeared that she was losing staff. I listened to the gossip long enough to discover she had the Countess de Teep whipped for suggesting the use of a parasol. The Countess was now in the dungeon. Two ladies and five maids left the palace rather than wait on the Regent earlier in the day. I found myself purring over the thought that her staff was beginning to desert her.
My manufactured ghosts were doing their job too. The servants were whispering that there was a curse on the palace. The palace staff reported the ghost of Queen Eleanor bemoaning the death of her children. Others heard just footsteps walking through empty hallways at night, or they heard the voice of the murdered Princess Sophie reciting her favorite poetry.
I added a new spell this evening through the scrying ball. The royal chapel had a four-octave carillon. I enchanted it to play Princess Sophie's favorite practice piece at nine of the clock every morning. That's when the Princess would practice. I was sure that it would affect Griselda.
I was concerned when I visited the King. He had sleep, befuddlement, and fear cast on him. He must have done something to gain the attention of his captors. The medicine bottle still contained apple juice, so no one had discovered the missing drugs. I snooped around the servants nearby and found that the King had encountered the voice of Sophie that morning. He pounded on his bedroom door, begging to be released because he had heard his daughter in the hallway. The Magus came and put the King back to bed.
I undid the spells. Then I woke the King and spoke to him in person instead of in a dream.
*Wake up, King Stephano. We must speak together.*
His eyes opened. Not moving his head, his eyes looked around the room.
*You can not see me, King. I am not here. This is just my voice which I am projecting from far away.*
"Who are you?" he whispered.
*I am the spirit beast sent to watch over your son. We will be in Tammerhof soon, in about twenty-one days. You must stay alive until then. Hide if you must because I fear you are not well enough to fight. Continue to fake being comatose. It is probably the best plan for now. Are you still having withdrawal symptoms?*
"Symptoms?" Stephano asked. "Like what?"
*Shakes and palsy. Headache. Inexplicable sweat and chills. Incredible craving. Nausea. Diarrhea. Itching.*
"I'm still getting some of that, but it's improving. It's still miserable. What did they do to me?"
*Triple-distilled poppy tincture every day for the last three and a half years, followed by spells to keep you confused and fearful.*
"My wife?"
*Yes, she and her partner, Magus Keleher. They are lovers, but he cheats on her all the time, and she does not know it. They are quite a pair.*
"Crap, she moved before I could. What about the rest of my family? Has she made Willam the crown prince yet?"
*No, she plans to kill Willam, you, and your brother. She will bump off your Uncle Valgard and his family since he is next in line. Then she will marry Aricia to Egbert Oster, and Nordvek will be her bride's gift to her husband.*
"She will kill her own son?" His face said he didn’t believe it.
*She is not sane, King Stephano. She does not know right from wrong. What she wants is right. Whatever stops her is wrong. Anything in between she doesn’t care about. Those are the only values she has. She is a broken person.*
"Is Osterius in on this, or is this something she created herself?"
*Sigurd Oster is the mastermind behind this long-term plan.*
"You’ll need an army to counter Oster. How many men have you raised?"
*I'm not sure. That's not my part of the plan. Two thousand elves and five thousand Zimlakan cavalry riders will make a feint into Gan. Father Garshom is persuading your Uncle Valgard to add some of his forces. The Goblin Queen already has half her army of hobgoblins ready at the border to help us. That's what we're working with. In my opinion, we don't need them because, as the saying goes, ten mages can overturn any army, and we have that many. I prefer walking into the palace and killing the Queen and the Magus. But that depends on getting you and Aricia out of the palace first.*
"How are you going to do that?"
*I have no idea, which is why you need to keep play-acting the part of the comatose King for now. I have some things to take care of, so I need to…*
"Wait, spirit beast."
*King?*
"When will you be back?"
*I'm not sure. I need to continue destabilizing the Queen and her mage, so I'll probably be back several times.*
The King pleaded, "Will you come back? To talk to me? Keep me up to date on how things are going?"
*My name is Fuzzy, and I promise I will be back, King Stephano.*
"Now, I know I've been drugged, and I've been enchanted, and I'm probably not completely right in my head, but is your name really Fuzzy? A spirit beast, a real spirit beast, and your name is Fuzzy?"
*Blame your son. He's the one who named me. I was thinking of something classic for a name, like Berengaria or Eustacia or Clementine…*
"Clementine?"
*Well, maybe not Clementine...but Fuzzy? That name is your son’s fault.*
"Well, Willam's smart, but he's no genius. I never would have thought he'd acquire a spirit beast, and then he named you Fuzzy? What a doofus!"
*Stephano, my boy is not Willam, who is a good kid, and all that. My boy is Andray, your son, your charismatic, amazing magical son Andray.*
I got that poor King all excited, and that made me worried that he might make enough sound that the guards at his door would summon his attendant or the Magus. I put him into a deep sleep.
I found the Magus outside the door to the Queen's apartments, banging on them to be let in. I knew from having enchanted his braies that he liked the kind that fit close, not the kind that were like short loose trews with just a drawstring waist. He had a seriously bad case of lust inside those braies, but they fit so close that there was no room for expansion. The guards on either side of the door were working very hard not to look and not to laugh.
Maybe I should have enchanted the braies with the cure for constipation instead, so he'd always be stuck on the chamber pot with the runs. He thought of himself as such a great lover that the cure for impotence seemed fitting when I cast it, especially with Griselda being under a permanent cloud these days. He'd be stuck needing some physical comforting while his current lover, the Queen, wouldn't want any intimacy since she had cold feet and cold, everything else right now.
I reminded myself to change the enchantment on the braies and the eating dagger. I then forgot about it because my boy came looking for me.
"Still checking out the palace, Fuzz?" The polished and poised Prince Andray removed the chain of leaves and placed it carefully on the table by the window. Then he took his hat and tossed it on the bed, reverting to his Cat Rider habits. The belt dropped on the floor was next, followed by the forest-green houppelande.
I looked up from the crystal ball, "you could at least throw your clothes on the clothes press rather than the floor, Prince Slob."
"Nag, nag, nag," he balanced perfectly on his right leg as he leaned over and picked his clothes off the floor. I noticed he was wearing the new style of hosen that fitted the waist and had a thing called a codpiece that made emptying the bladder a lot easier than fitted braies. He was wearing one of those close-fitting doublets too. I remember Father Garshom complaining that doublets got indecently shorter every year.
I thought clothes were a bit silly, but all these bipedal two-footed races didn't have any fur, poor things. They had to wear clothes when it was cold to stay warm; however, I couldn't understand why they kept wearing them when it got hot. Didn't wearing clothes in hot weather make it hotter? I knew human scriptures had a lot of language about nakedness and lust, but it never made much sense to me. I mean, when it was mating season, you mated. Then you had a litter, raised the kittens, and repeated that. What did clothes have to do with it?
I don’t pretend to understand the ways of the two-footed races.
"What’s up at the palace?" He joined me on the bed, where I had set up the scrying crystal.
*Checked on your father and chatted with him a bit. He’s coherent now and feeling impatient. He strikes me as the kind of person who can’t sit still for five minutes.*
"Yes, that sounds just like him. Willam is just like him in that regard."
*Your Uncle Sven, too.*
"Speaking of Uncle Sven, he spent most of the meal flirting," Cat loved juicy gossip. Mostly he listened and never repeated unless he was talking to me, Owl, or Wren. Because he didn't repeat what he heard, people trusted him with their tidbits, and he got a reputation as a good listener.
*Men flirt.* I observed in a droll tone of thought. *Human ones especially. It’s some kind of biological thing.*
"No, no, no, you don't understand. This is Uncle Sven I'm talking about. He hasn't looked at any of the female persuasion since his wife died eight years ago."
*Could have fooled me this afternoon. I lost count of all the cute girls he winked at while we floated through town.*
"That's just Uncle Sven playing a crowd. Everyone in my family does it. No, tonight at dinner was different. The lady isn't even a looker, and she's old."
*Old?* Sven was chasing one of the two middle-aged ladies from the solar?
"She’s twenty-five, which is ancient. She's plump too. The only impressive thing about her is her lute playing. Oh, and she's blind, which is why her parents never brought her up to Tammerhof for the yearly social season and marriage market."
*Maybe he’s just being polite, Cat.* It sounded like a reasonable thing for the well-bred Sven to do. He was a thoughtful man under all his bluster.
"Trust me, Fuzzy. This is different. I can feel it. She's Lady Zenobia de Zoot. Her parents rarely allow her to travel outside of Zoot, so only a few people have met her, including Sven, even though she is his second or third cousin. Anyway, they sat together at dinner and did nothing but talk to each other."
*Cat, I hate to point this out to you, but men and women talk to each other all the time. Even you do it, or did you forget that Wren is a girl?*
There was a knock, and then Willam let himself in, "We could use you downstairs, Andray. Uncle Valgard broke out a cask of acerum because he knows Father Garshom liked it. They are now both drunk and acting up. Aunt Dora told them to take the drink fest somewhere else and Garshom cast a sleeping spell on her. We could use someone who can face down Father Garshom's magic."
My boy sighed, "Alright. Can you take me down the stairs, please, Fuzzy? They are a bit steep for me to navigate quickly." I jumped off the bed and waited while he stood up.
"Hold on, Bro," Willam picked up Andray and placed him on my back. He then fitted Andray’s boots into the leather loops of the stirrup strap.
"Warn me when you’re going to do that," Andray growled.
"But I just did," Willam flashed a satisfied smile. "I can't help it if I'm bigger, taller, stronger, and faster than you," he lightly pinched Andray's right cheek. Then the smile vanished into a more serious expression, "But not smarter, braver, or more powerful, Magus Andray." He looked at me and nodded, "Ready, Fuzz?"
*Open the door, please.* We were off, down the hall and two flights of stairs. With my nose, I had to part the gaggle of worried servants at the dining room doors to look inside at Father Garshom and Duke Valgard. I had only seen Garshom drunk two or three times at Elvenhome when Storm Eagle would bring out a cask of aged acerum for a special occasion like a handfasting. Then the old man would just fall asleep at the table.
What greeted my eyes now was the absurd scene of a drunk Garshom dueling a drunk Valgard with two long loaves of bread left over from dinner. Even drunk, the old priest bobbed and weaved to avoid most of the Duke’s slashes and thrusts.
It was obvious why fighters of all ages and races wanted lessons from Garshom, even in his old age. I wasn't sure how old he was, but he moved like a young man dancing with his sword of bread. I wondered just how drunk he really was. I would never find out since I heard Cat mutter: "Σχλαφφ!"
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
The two old men looked befuddled, then collapsed slowly to the floor.
"Should I bless them with hangovers in the morning?" I could hear the boyish grin on Cat’s face as he asked.
"Yes!" I could hear Willam grinning too. I was beginning to think that reuniting these two teenage brothers might have been a bad idea.
*Absolutely not! A hungover grumpy Father Garshom is a dread and fearsome monster to be avoided at all costs. Do you remember what happened last time?*
"But Sleeping Willow isn’t here," Cat protested.
*But I am, and I forbid it. What we are doing now is an endeavor to remove an insane woman and a corrupt mage from abusing their undeserved political power and causing more deaths. We can not afford to allow one of our best mages to function at less than his best, even if he overindulged with his old friend this evening. We can torture the dread taskmaster of magic lessons when all of this is over. After all, I still haven't paid him back for turning my fur bright pink and making me stink like pickled cabbage last year as a lesson in casting and undoing glamours.*
"Oh, come on, Fuzzy," Willam pleaded.
*Someone has to be the adult here,* I pointed out.
Willam and Cat snickered in unison. "And you’re how old?" Cat teased.
*Six, and I’m old enough to have birthed two litters by now if I wasn’t blowing your nose and tucking you in to sleep every evening.* I got so annoyed when he pulled the age card on me.
"Coming through," Uncle Sven waved us away from the door as he supervised the servants carrying Duke Valgard, Duchess Dora, and Father Garshom to their beds upstairs.
Sven watched the procession of servants carrying off his aunt, his uncle, and the priest. Then smiled. "Thank you for that, you three. If you don't mind, I believe I will return to chatting with the interesting Lady Zenobia."
----------------------------------------
Breakfast in the morning was a treat, at least for me. Great Aunt Dora employed a mage for the Hof as well as being a mage herself. As a result, the Hof had an actively maintained cold room and ice room in the kitchen cellar. This enabled the Hof to store game meats for months at a time. I had bear meat for breakfast. When I joined everyone else in the family dining room afterward, I informed Duchess Dora that I intended to move in as soon as I had the leisure to do so.
"So, you think you can just barge your way into my home without so much as a 'by-your-leave?'" she asked with mock indignation.
*I am a spirit beast and an emissary of the gods,* I curled up on the oversized armchair I was provided and rested my chin on the edge of the table. *You should be honored that I would deign to visit your humble dwelling.* I delivered that haughty pronouncement with an extra-large serving of condescension on the side.
Cat almost choked, trying to eat and not laugh at the same time.
"Everyone in my castle," the Duchess looked down her long aristocratic nose at me, "must serve some function or earn their keep." She upped the ante.
*My sacred presence brings good fortune and the blessings of the gods wherever I go.*
"So does the high priest of the city temple," she demurely sipped her tea. "As a latecomer to the local spiritual economy, you have no market share and an uphill battle to gain some."
"Ouch!" Duke Sven exclaimed. On the other side of the table, Uncle Sven pulled out a chair for Lady Zenobia and sat down beside her. "I think that point was just scored by Aunt Dora. You might not win this one, Fuzz."
"Well, Fuzzy is overdue on finding someone who can match her at verbal sparring," Cat gave his great-aunt a look of encouragement.
*I must add that I'm incredibly cute and cuddly.* I made my very best big kitty eyes at the Duchess with a purr loud enough to rattle the silverware.
"So, in addition to being an insufferable layabout," one of the Duchess' eyebrows lifted eloquently toward her hairline, "you rely on undeserved sympathy to scam others into housing and feeding you." She turned her eyes to Cat, "Prince Andray, I am most disappointed in you. This creature's attitude is not fitting for service to the royal family. I suggest you replace this sycophant with something more appropriate, like a palfrey, which would have the added benefit of not talking back. I will take on the remediation of this leech in a cougar suit myself. A few years of servitude catching rodents at the ducal grainery should do the trick."
*Mousing is beneath me,* I sniffed. *No cougar would stoop so low.*
"My foster mother told me that ever since Fuzzy took up residence in Elvenhome, all the rodents and insects in the living and cooking spaces have almost completely vanished," Cat helpfully informed the Duchess.
*Traitor!*
"Love you too, Fuzz," Cat's smile was as innocent as the day he was born. "You must isolate her at night, Aunt Dora, because she snores."
*I do not!*
"And she makes these funny woofling noises sometimes," Willam added, "and all her paws twitch as she chases some offending mouse in her dreams."
I was saved from further abuse by the arrival of the hungover Duke Valgard and Father Garshom, who were much better targets than I. Duchess Dora showed them no mercy.
----------------------------------------
When Duchess Dora heard that the Regent had thrown the Countess de Teep into the dungeon, she was both appalled and concerned since the Countess was advanced in years. Cat set up a table in the solar for the scrying crystal so those with magic ability could watch. Duchess Dora and her mage, Timbert, joined up.
To my surprise, Lady Zenobia also joined us. Looking at her aura, I could tell she had talent though little training. What she knew, she had learned out of books. Her father was one of those unenlightened people who distrusted magic outside the temples and thought his daughter would be tainted if she had any mage training.
As soon as Sven helped her to a chair, I couldn't help myself asking: *Lady Zenobia, can a blind person see through scrying?*
"If someone was born without sight," she explained with a polite smile, "the answer is no. Someone who has never had sight can not gain it through a scrying pan or stone. I lost my eyesight through a mishap when I was six. I can tell the difference between light and dark but nothing else. My study of magic texts indicates that I should be able to see what is revealed by a scrying stone."
*Please pardon me if this is rude, but your eyes appear clouded. Was it quick lime?*
"You are correct, Lady Fuzzy," she sighed.
It was a shame that it was a chemical burn. Once scar tissue was established, burnt tissues resisted healing. No one has ever succeeded in creating a healing spell that will reverse the damage of burns.
"Well, Fuzz," Cat said before he went into his trance for scrying, "I think you should do the linking with Lady Zenobia since you are the most practiced thought caster among us."
*I can do that,* I thought of what words to use to cast and then said in my mind, *Γρυττε μεμ, μειτσjε μν εἀγεν ἁρ εἀγεν!*
Zenobia's connection felt like itchy little pinpricks behind my eyes. I don't know how it felt to Lady Zenobia, but she did gasp when the spell took effect. Then I waited for Cat to trance and dropped into my own to see where he directed the crystal to go. I felt Dora and Timbert join in.
First, Cat dropped into the dungeon, looking into the different cells for Countess de Teep. Cat found her eventually. Her face was bloodied, one eye was swollen shut, and her nose was broken. She was sleeping or in a coma, but we dared not be too invasive. We didn't want to give away that we were actively scrying the palace every day.
I heard the nine o'clock bell toll. *Cat, find the Regent, quick!*
I felt Cat's surprise and curiosity, but he found the Regent pacing in her sitting room as the staff moved out saturated furniture and bedding and brought dry furniture and bedding in. The Regent looked terrible, and I was glad Willam wasn't magical enough to see through scrying. He may have condemned her actions in his head, but at the end of the day, she was still his mother.
Through the crystal ball, we heard the great bells of the Temple Shrine of Mattadee finish tolling nine times. Then a higher-pitched set of bells began playing Princess Sophie's favorite piece on the carillon, "I have lost my way without you." It was a sad but lovely tune when sung, but on the carillon, where the lowest bell continuously tolled twice a measure, the melancholy music was elevated into something eloquent, a cry of grieving love waiting for someone who would never return.
The music's beauty was ruined by Griselda's frenzy as she screamed, ripped her clothes, threw vases, smashed perfume bottles, flung decanters, and toppled chairs. Yelling to make the carillon stop, she threatened servants, punched and kicked overturned tables, and acted no different from a spoiled toddler throwing a temper tantrum.
She started to strangle one of the dressing maids who survived the assault only because Magus Keleher ran in and dropped her into a magic-induced sleep. He put her down on a couch and opened one of many umbrellas placed strategically around Griselda's sitting room. He positioned it so the snow would not fall on her face.
"There are only three of you today?" he looked around the chamber at the one lady-in-waiting and the two dressing maids. "Where is everyone else?"
"This is all that showed up for work this morning, Sir Mage," the lady-in-waiting replied apologetically. "I sent to the dormitories and houses of the Queen's staff, sir. Barring the one girl whose arm was broken by the Queen two days ago, everyone else has vacated their homes and vanished without leaving any forwarding addresses."
He glared at her, raised his hand to strike, and then dropped it in exasperation. "I can not find the spells or curses plaguing this palace, and I am as frustrated as you are," he hung his head. "Do you know why the Queen became enraged when the carillon started playing?"
"That was the deceased Princess Sophie's favorite song on the carillon, Sire Mage," one of the two dressing maids piped up in a tentative voice. "She would practice every day at nine in the morning and always played that song first."
Keleher grimaced, "Is this the first time this has happened?"
"Yes, Sir Mage."
Keleher shook his head, "I will bring up a potion you can put into her wine to keep her calm and sedated. I must thank you, ladies, for your loyalty and patience while the Queen endures whatever curse this might be. Your labors will not go unrewarded, which is my promise to you. I will be back as soon as I make the potion."
"Thank you, Sir Mage."
Keleher left the Regent's chambers and walked down the long corridor to the King's apartments. The King's usual attendant opened the door to Keleher's knock sequence. I promptly memorized it.
"How is he today."
"He's been sleeping peacefully lately."
"And when he's awake?"
"He's like someone who has never seen the world before," the attendant replied. "This morning, he inspected his breakfast spoon as if he had never seen a spoon before. I think his mind is going if it isn't already gone. Too bad he doesn't have a balcony because we could walk him straight to the edge of one and push him over with no resistance. He would plummet to death, wondering at the strange sensation of falling."
"Any more convulsions?" Keleher frowned.
"None since two days ago. I think the convulsions and this new baby-like behavior might result from some kind of stroke."
"Huh. That's worth thinking about. Well, so long as he gives you no trouble, it doesn't really matter. Keeping him alive and calm is all we need to do for now. We just need to persevere until Prince Willam returns. We'll frame Willam for Stephano's death, pop Aricia on the throne, bump off Stephano and Griselda, and we're home free."
"Magus, what about the rumor that Willam found Prince Andray?"
"I doubt it's true. I saw this supposed Prince Andray in the scrying stone of the mage I hired. He can't possibly be Andray. The boy has two eyes." Keleher laughed, "They are fools. I don't know what game the Duke and Prince are playing, but it will make it easier to remove them when we want to."
"Did you find your missing contract mage?"
"No, he's vanished as if he never existed. Even the cabin he used in the North Slope Wood vanished. I'm not sure what to think of it. I need his services right now to trace the origins of these spells that plague the palace. If they are cast by another mage, they came from so far away that I can't follow them back."
The attendant gasped, "But that's impossible."
"I know, but the only alternative is that the palace is cursed and haunted. As a rational man, I don't believe in superstitions, but unless I find a better explanation, we may need to ask the Archbishop for an exorcism."
"I still think you should remove Princess Aricia to somewhere away from the palace," the attendant frowned at the Magus. "She hears the footsteps and the voice of Princess Sophie, both of which leave her too scared to sleep at night. And she hears her mother's screaming and raving, which leaves her too scared to nap or relax during the day. If you care at all for your future Queen, Keleher, you should send her to her Uncle Sigurd in Osterius, where she will be safe."
"Out of the question, and you know it. We can't take Aricia out of the city until we make her Queen with the Regent still in place. The Nordvekkian populace will not stand for it otherwise."
Cat ended the scrying, and we held a meeting of family members to discuss the state of the palace. I invited myself, and I stayed since no one threw me out. We discussed Griselda and Keleher. The meeting was in the family dining room with me, Cat, Willam, Uncle Sven, Father Garshom, Duchess Dora, and Duke Valgard.
"I must question the wisdom of including Lady Zenobia in the scrying this morning," Duke Valgard confronted Cat.
The Duchess came to his defense, "Then blame me because I suggested it. The Countess de Teep is Zenobia’s aunt and one of the few people who pays any attention to that poor girl."
"Oh." Valgard frowned and stared at the table for a moment, "But now, she has been sucked into this business whether she wanted to be or not."
"She would be anyway, you old fool," Dora snapped, "because this little non-war isn't about the succession or even about the Regent. It's really about Osterius wanting to swallow Nordvek. This is every noble's business and every land owner's business, and every merchant's business. It did us no harm for Zenobia to join the scrying. It's not like she will write King Sigurd Oster to warn him that his sister is the weak link in his plan to steal our kingdom. And she's not likely to blab. Who is she going to blab to? She has no social circle outside of her family."
"Alright, Dora, I get the picture," the old Duke grumbled. "Your Highness," the Duke looked at Andray, "I'm in, Dora's in, we're all in. I have already given orders to initiate the rain shower maneuver with the troops under my command. Do you know what that is?"
"I do not," Andray replied.
"I do," Willam said to my boy since they were sitting together. "Cat, I have my copy of the maneuver book with me. I'll lend it to you."
"Great. Thanks, Willam."
The old Duke smiled, watching the two brothers get along so well.
"The rain shower maneuver moves thousands of troops over a defined period to a pre-picked location — done in such a way that your opponent doesn't notice until it's too late," the Duke explained. "Sven and I worked this up after Stephano took ill. Fortunately, we're going into summer because you can't use this plan in a winter campaign. The Count de Welk built two warehouses on farmland he owns a few miles outside of Tammerhof. He uses those warehouses for market crop storage. The walls and cellars of these warehouses contain the means to equip two thousand pikemen, five hundred longbow archers, one thousand light cavalry, and four hundred shield wall troops for mage defense.
"A few hours ago, certain soldiers received orders to visit granny or go home for their sister's wedding or whatever. Others, on horses, were sent out to carry messages like they always do, but they won't be coming home without a detour to Tammerhof. These soldiers travel alone or in pairs only. Tomorrow, some more orders will go out. This will happen every day for the next ten days. In two weeks, they will be at the warehouses and ready to march anywhere you want."
"So, you came up with this three years ago?" my boy lifted his one visible red eyebrow. "Wow. We need to get word of this to our three allied groups. Father Garshom, have you had the opportunity to brief my great uncle on the other aspects of our plan?"
"Yes, he knows," Garshom nodded.
"Then we should inform the others right away," my boy reached into the pouch he dedicated to the crystal ball and pulled the silk-wrapped ball of clear quartz out. He placed it on the table, closed his eyes, and entered his scrying trance. I dropped into my trance as soon as I felt the crystal come alive. Father Garshom cast the group version of the mind-talking spell. Cat was seeking the trace of the crystal ball that Zimlakan court mage Rumpal used.
*Highness! Good to hear from you. Sorry for the delay. I had to find where I put my ball.* Rumpal was the same short mage that flew Blue Fox home after his ordeal. He was also our Mage General for coordinating magic activities. Overall, I found him to be a pleasant and reasonable soul, except when he was helping my misguided friends in torturing me with bath water.
"Lord Rumpal, please convey to my father Storm Eagle, Queen Margo, and Sahkuhl Hasma’ad that Duke Valgard and his troops are at our disposal. The Duke has a maneuver to muster undetected two thousand pikes, five hundred archers, one thousand light calvary, and four hundred shields for mage defense in the environs of Tammerhof. They will be assembled in two weeks. They are not traveling en mass. As for..."
*Hold up, Prince! I’m still writing.*
"Do I need to repeat anything?"
*No, no, I'm good. There, I'm done. Pray, continue.*
"The Regent continues to fray, but she is not yet broken. The haunting spells and the personal storm are effective. The Queen only had three to attend her personally this morning. Many palace staff employees are deserting their posts. In one regard, the spells are too effective since they have disturbed both my father and my sister. The King's mental state continues to improve, and he is now apprised that help is coming. We discovered King Sigurd's long-term plans to discard the Regent and the King as soon as Aricia is crowned Queen Regnant. That's everything I have for now. Can you please update me on what is happening outside of Nordvek?"
*The mounted troops are on the river in barges. They left yesterday. The elves are still mustering. Sahkeena Aisha says hello, and please scratch the cat for her. Your mother, Deer Foot arrived today. She says that if you don't pick up a crate of Valltol wine, don't bother coming home.*