The day after the wedding feast, Hyperia set out to visit Roselynn in the country. The king was against it, but when his wife had shown him his sister's letter she had received that morning, he relented. Yewen Illymimium had written the letter in Roselynn's hand, a handy trick among her old advisor's many talents. In the letter, Roselynn had expressed she was not well and asked specifically for the type of nursing only the queen could provide.

Scipio Davadas could spare few men these days, so he sent one guard, a boy barely strong enough to lift his sword, to accompany his wife on the journey. Tylla and her new husband would travel with them in a caravan to the country, it was decided, after some debate.

Hyperia welcomed the plan. It would give her the opportunity to appear as the doting mother assuring her daughter's happiness in her new home. She would spend several days at the Roland's home, two leagues beyond the citadel, and then continue to her destination farther in the isolated countryside.

When he considered it later, Scipio Davadas was happy to be rid of them. The wedding had distracted him from more important things, like the growing conflict with the Nazeers. His battalion had met the enemy on Pendulum road before reaching Mynimium and pushed them back into Crytombe Crags. Although this was a small victory, the Nazeers used the hostile terrain to their advantage, holing up in caves to ambush his men from above.

The Nazeers weren't averse to any tactic, including causing rockslides to rain down on their opponents' heads. One such recent event had taken out ten men and horses, a fact that made his gorge rise like bitter bile as he prepared for his daily meeting with his henchmen. Once Roland Davadas had spent a week with his wife in their new household, he would return to lead a new battalion of reinforcements. Scipio was in the palace war chamber studying the map of Ardelym spread out on a large oval table when Rigel entered.

"Your Grace," the young Illymimium said, bowing a bit too theatrically.

"Well?" Scipio did not hide his irritation at the intrusion. "Did you enjoy yourself at my daughter's wedding feast?"

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"Very much so."

Scipio turned from the map and surveyed Rigel with a critical gaze. "I should think so. You drank your share of wine. Now, what can I do for you?"

Rigel willed the redness rising in his cheeks to disappear as he took several bold steps toward the king. "The question is, what can I do for you."

The creases between the king's eyebrows deepened. "I'm not in the mood for riddles. Speak plainly."

"I wish to be a soldier, sir."

Scipio laughed and swung back to the map. "Your brain is addled from too many late nights with your friends."

"I am willing to begin my training, your grace. Today."

"Your body is too soft for fighting, my son."

"Try me."

The king turned. "I can see you want to help, and that is a noble gesture. One that I appreciate, but Oran would be better served if you use what gifts you have."

"And what are they, in your opinion?" It was an honest question. Rigel really had no idea what his gifts were, other than having a propensity for merrymaking.

Scipio Davadas rubbed the short stubble on his chin. "You are an Illymium. It is for your homeland we are now fighting. If you really want to help, use your Illyminum powers to help Oran gain an advantage over those Nazeer brutes."

A flame of hope rose in Rigel's breast. It never occurred to him that he had any powers. To have it acknowledged by the king gave him a surge of sudden confidence. "I will use whatever powers I possess. I will serve any way I can, your grace."

The king clasped Rigel's shoulders. "Glad to hear it, my son. Here is your task, and it's a secret one."

Rigel's heart raced. "I'm listening."

"Go to Oran tower and speak with Flenn Illymium. They aren't well."

Rigel nodded. He knew it to be the case when he observed the ancient seer barely able to sit upright in their chair at Tylla"s wedding. "But how can I help Flenn?"

Scipio stepped away with a shrug. "That is for you to figure out. Learn Flenn's secrets if you can. We need a new seer. Perhaps it's you."

Rigel gulped. He knew that wasn't true. But still, legend had it that anyone with Illymium blood had the power of Illym within him. Could he possibly learn to fly among the stars as Flenn once boasted?

His back straightened as he said, "I will go to the tower and consult with Flenn at once."

"Good," Scipio said, gazing again at the map. "And report back to me any news you think will help our cause."

Rigel bowed his assent and headed quickly for the door, eager to begin his new assignment.

So I won't be a soldier after all, he thought, heading for the pulley car that would whisk him to the top of Oran Tower. But I will learn that old Illymium's secrets if it's the last thing I do. I will make myself indispensable to Oran, and I will earn the respect back to my people.