“A message delivery?” Errant’s brow furrowed. “You aren’t a page, you are a squire. Why was such a simple task given to you?”
Estemar’s brown eyes flickered with annoyance, which was quickly buried under his discipline. “I do not know. They only told me that it was urgent. I was merely stopping to inform you of my whereabouts.”
“May I see the letter?” Errant asked calmly. Estemar looked at him strangely, then shrugged and drew it out of the vest under his tabard.
Errant took it from him, and stared at it, his silver eyes glittering. Estemar, about to say something, fell silent, because he could clearly see the corners of Errant’s lips turning down.
Errant’s eyes finally rose to Estemar’s, a hardness in them the young Prince had not seen before. “You are without armor or weapon, yes?” he asked calmly.
“That is correct...” It somehow sounded ominous, now that Errant had mentioned it...
Errant passed the letter back. “They are watching. Go about things as if you are leaving soon. I will be at the statue of Saint Miyata. I will be going with you.”
Estemar nodded shortly, seeing a hard light in Errant’s eyes. He had great trust in this Heavenbound son of the Gilderalz, and now it seemed that something was happening. Errant hurried away, and Estemar resumed his course to the stables... but not moving as quickly as he might have.
-----------
Errant was indeed waiting by the towering statue of the Ranger Marshal of Aethra, one of the great hunters of criminals of the Empire. Riding back and forth the length of it to bring wrongdoers to justice, she had been a true heroine of the masses and Sainted by all five major Good Churches. Her statue had thus endured here for over five centuries, unable to be moved off and replaced by those eager to take her prime place on the Promenade to the Palace.
Errant was not mounted, but he did have a Disk next to him, loaded with what Estemar instantly saw was his own Armor and Weapons. He met Errant’s eyes as he gestured, murmuring a soft prayer to Mithar, and the pieces of his Armor began to rise and move into position slowly, one by one. Straps tightened, pieces locked together, buckles were hitched, strings knotted, and in less than five breaths he was mailed and plated properly. He slung his Shield at the side of his saddle, and his Sword opposite.
“Glamer it,” Errant ordered shortly, and Estemar brushed the finely-made plate. It shimmered and seemed to reform into a tabard and cloak. His Sword and Shield were still obvious, but him being armored was not.
“What is going on?” Estemar asked, as Errant pushed up the Disk, and the squire touched it to take control, afore Errant hopped lightly atop it to float at his side as he snapped the reins again. The young bay he was riding trotted smoothly into motion.
“You have not refined the Eyes enough. There was murderous intent floating around that letter. It was written with killing in mind.”
Estemar didn’t pale, instead thinking of the implications. “I have been sold out? By the Order?” he asked calmly.
“It is perhaps not the time to mention this, but you know the death of that scribe in the records, and those two workers in the kitchens?”
Errant had brought them up before, so Estemar nodded shortly. “The one was overindulging on proscribed drugs, I believe? And the last two were crushed under wine barrels being unloaded.”
“I killed them.” Estemar blinked. “It was a test, to see how well they would cover up the details, and the details were all firmly suppressed. The three were doppelgangers.”
Estemar’s cheek twitched. “It is not my first time dealing with shapechangers... although the last time was wererats and a vampire.”
“That dance you were telling me about?” Errant’s eyes were steady. “Your foes are thorough. They managed to get you assigned as a squire to another one.”
Estemar inhaled sharply. “Sir Zigfried? Are you certain?”
“His chambers reek of killing intent. He wears an empowered tchazty stone to conceal his Aura, but it does not cloak the residue,” Errant told him calmly.
Estemar was thoughtful, thinking of the implications. “I was assigned him by the Grand Maester himself. How high does this corruption go?” he asked softly.
“The Grand Maester has also been slain and replaced,” Errant told him softly.
Estemar almost reined in, and his eyes grew wide. A single stare told him Errant was deadly serious. “Have you told anyone else?”
“The Inquisition knows. I informed them over two months ago, and they have been watching his dealings closely. Some of my excursions outside the Halls have been in service to the Church, pressing closer into the matters of those he is dealing with.” He glanced at Estemar. “It seems they are going to take this opportunity to deal with you.”
Estemar patted his side pouch, where the letter now rested. “An ambush, then? Daring of them, in the Sixth Circle...”
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“We can be sure that things have been carefully arranged so that there is no help nearby. I believe an assassination attempt is more likely, with mercenaries on standby to make you difficult, if not impossible, to revive.”
“Of course.” Estemar took it right in stride. “So, what are your plans?”
“Do you have a problem acting as bait?” Errant asked him.
“None whatsoever,” Estemar answered calmly.
“Excellent. I am going to signal to a couple of spotters, and I will be shadowing you as you ride to deliver your letter. I plan to give those who think to ambush you an unpleasant surprise.”
The young Paladin smiled calmly. “And I shall have to see if I can spot them as well, no?”
“I may not give you the chance,” Errant replied with a low chuckle, hopping off the Disk, which spun itself up into stacked wedges from its Disk-shape, and was inserted into the flat Masspack on Errant’s back. “I will be with you, have faith.” He darted off at impressive speed, causing a few heads to turn before he was abruptly out of sight... all sight, vanishing under the light like a mirage.
Advanced Heavenbound Mastery, giving him concealment in the light the way others were concealed in the shadows. He was effectively invisible as long as he did nothing more abrupt than moving.
Estemar found himself caught between smiling and frowning. The Grand Maester of the Ruby Heart, one of the most important Order Maesters in the Empire, killed and replaced by a Shapechanger! It would rock the nobility to the core if they found out about it, and there would be a great deal of witch-hunting to follow.
Witch-hunting that was likely to find more of the same, if some of the things Errant had whispered about during their training time were to be believed.
The letter might be real, might simply be a tool to get him in the right place and time, the recipient could be a conspirator, or totally innocent. Still, if it held such murderous intent, that meant that the one who wrote it was definitely involved...
So thinking, Prince Estemar considered his unseen set of armor and how that was going to be an unwelcome surprise for any attackers, at the very least...
========
He felt the impact of the crossbow bolt ring off the plate covering his back before he processed what the buzzing sound was. The force jerked him forwards, and dispelled the illusion covering up his armor. In a moment, it flowed back into being, his ‘clothing’ diffusing and revealed the ornate full plate of a mounted knight, complete with helm.
He turned his head up and around, opposite the direction the bolt had skittered away from, up to a darkened window across the street, and the shadow of a startled figure there.
From the roof, he saw a blur of motion come over the edge and swing down, landing sideways on the wall next to that window. A glowing blur of light swept out and plunged into the target, eliciting a cry of surprise and pain. Hiding in the Light broken, Errant plunged from the wall into the room, changing orientation easily, his hand pointing at Estemar and then to an alley ahead of the young squire.
Estemar pulled out his Sword and turned his horse around, even as a knot of experienced mercenaries ran out of the side street next to the walls of the home to which he was delivering his letter. Passersby, judging the situation at a glance, immediately ran for their lives, conspicuously not shouting for the Watch... and a couple of them moving into position on his flanks.
He was not a master bladesman, but he was mounted and these men were not. Without hesitation, he spun the bay and sent it hurtling directly at the men who thought themselves unobserved behind him.
They were ready to fight, but they still had to get out of the way of his horse. His Shield took the first strike aimed at him, and then as the darkness of the man in front of him hove into his view, he called on Mithar to aid him as he brought his Sword down and in-line as the unshaven man barely avoided being trampled. The ambusher looked up, and his eyes went wide as a searing flame lit up on Estemar’s Sword, sweeping unerringly into the ambusher’s throat as Estemar passed by, depriving the ambusher of his life.
Estemar had seen two men with bows, and moved his Shield to cover behind him just in time, two buzzing shafts bouncing off the steel bosses. He moved away from any pedestrians, eyes going left and right to see if there were more shooters above, or any others coming out of the shadows...
A dark form came hurtling out of the high window behind him, its head separating in midair. Errant was in the window, looking, and his hand stretched out. “BOLT!” he shouted, and magic glowed on his hand.
A shield of magical force, golden and semi-transparent, appeared on Estemar’s left side. An instant later, he noticed the Wizard as the lightning came smashing down, bounced off the cobblestones, and tore into the horse beneath him. The bay screamed and crashed down, and Estemar tucked and rolled like the experienced horseman he was, finding himself on foot after a smooth dismount and sliding over the cobblestones in his armor, very glad he was wearing it.
That Wizard hurriedly ducked away, but Estemar reached out with his eyes, feeling the Evil upon the man... and then something decidedly not evil coming up behind him very swiftly. He rolled to his feet, using his Shield to brace himself back to his feet, and resumed his running as the mercenaries pounded after him.
Without any hesitation, Errant jumped after him, soaring through the air and coming down between his squire and the ambushers. He hit the ground, skidded almost five feet over the stones, and smiled at the incoming men, his silver eyes bright.
“Gentlemen,” he said, as Grace lit up with hard golden lights, and they slowed to a stop to face him, “welcome to the Inquisition. You are about to have a very bad day.”
Despite themselves, they swallowed. There was a curse and a gasp above them, and they looked up to see the Wizard that was working with them hanging out of the window, someone stuffing a round ball into his mouth as teeth broke, a long slash across his throat and face showing someone was waiting for him.
They had set their ambush, and been ambushed in return...
----
Ahead of them, Estemar turned a corner to get out of the firing line of the archers, hugging the wall with Sword and Shield at the ready.
An older man in leathers, the Scales at his throat gleaming on an ivory disc, walked up to him and around the corner, surveying the carnage taking place with flat eyes. Seeing him do so, Estemar naturally stepped up to join him.
Two of the ambushers were already down, their light mail not really hindering Errant’s burning Wrathblade at all. Aghast, they started to retreat, and he raised his hand.
A Wall of golden flames exploded across the entire street, slamming right into the two archers hanging back and sniping at him ineffectually. They shrieked as they were set aflame, and the fleeing men could only slide to a halt.
“Now, then, I know you want to talk before we get persuasive, instead of after. You do know that the preferred method of interrogation of the Inquisition is to chop your head off and question your dead self, right?” Errant asked cheerfully, but his shining silver eyes held no sympathy, and the faces of the four remaining men fell further...