The Dragon Hunter and the Mage (50 page)

The man did not pursue him, and both women lowered their weapons.

“Well, you could have said so sooner,” Shayna told Alman.

“I was trying,” Alman replied, indicating the other woman’s knife.

“So what’s your name, boy?” Shayna asked.

Fadan opened his mouth but said nothing for an awkwardly long time. “I… I’m Aric,” he finally managed to get out.

Stupid!

Alman glared at him, but Fadan pretended not to see it. The other two introduced themselves as well. The man was called Theudis, and the other woman was Lucilla.

“Aric, huh?” Lucilla said thoughtfully. “A friend of mine has a son called Aric.”

“That’s not Aric,” another voice said.

Fadan turned to the sound and his heart sank. Coming from one of the other rooms, an olive skinned woman wearing a flawless white uniform stepped up to him.

“Aric is his brother.”

“Lady Margeth?” Fadan mumbled.

The Arch-Duchess bowed deeply beneath the confused stares of her associates. “Your majesty,” she said, then stood back up. “Shayna?”

“Yes, mistress?”

“Syphon him.”

Intilla’s office was as spacious as it was austere. A plain slab of obsidian served as desk, standing atop square, iron legs. Behind it, a large window overlooked the gray wall of the Legion’s headquarters. It was remarkable how the architect had managed to find such a drab view in a place like the Citadel, where there were more gardens than actual buildings.

A file of busts representing each of Intilla’s predecessors lined one of the walls as if awaiting inspection. There wasn’t a single carpet warming the cold, stone floor, only a banner draping the wall opposite the dead High-Marshals. It was a washed-out blue and had a fading yellow inscription that read:
Fifth expeditionary Legion – North Aletia
. It wasn’t completely tattering yet, but it did have a couple of tears here and there, not to mention a handful of dark stains that Cassia guessed had to have been caused by blood.

The Empress had been sitting in that awful chair so long she had memorized the shape and position of every mold stain on the Legion’s Headquarters’ wall outside the window. Where was Intila? It wasn’t like him to make her wait this long.

The door opened and a Legionary tipped his head inside. “Your majesty,” he said, “is there anything we can bring you? A drink, perhaps?”

Cassia made to respond, but heard someone else reply, “That’s alright, Barca.” She recognized Intilla’s voice. “I’m here.”

The Legionary opened the door wider, making way for the High Marshal while slamming a fist against his heart.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, majesty,” Intila said to Cassia. Behind him, the door closed. “It’s been a… busy day.”

“I’ve noticed,” Cassia replied.

Intila acknowledged that with a nod and headed for the chair behind his desk. “What is it you wanted?”

“To ask you about Doric,” she replied nonchalantly. “How is he doing? Is he being well treated?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Intila replied, sitting back in his chair. “I have handed control of those prisoners to Vigild weeks ago.”

“I see. Has Vigild replaced you at everything else as well? He seems to have jurisdiction over the rebels now, maybe he will get the Legions too.”

Intila frowned as his fingers played with the sharp end of a quill. “Vigild argued that since the Rebellion harbors most of the fugitive Mages, they should be under his Paladins’ jurisdiction. The Scriptorium has not lost its authority on this matter, but the Chancellor promised the Emperor some… eye-catching results. Despite my guarantees that the Scriptorium’s approach would provide a more definitive solution to the problem, my methods were considered too slow, and Vigild received the go-ahead.”

“So this is what it’s been all about?” the Empress asked. “Is this why my husband… my former husband, is rotting in a dungeon while my eldest son is made into Dragon bait? So that Vigild can replace you as Tarsus’ favorite?”

Intilla’s index finger tapped the dried tip of the quill. “It would appear so,” he replied after a while. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Are you sure you want me to answer that question?”

The quill flew from Intilla’s hands as he tossed it away. “Will you please stop beating around the bush already? What is it you want?”

Cassia held Intilla’s stare for a while, then sighed, as if giving up. “Actually, I came to thank you. It’s true, I did. I know about Fabian,” she explained. “I assume you know about Venia?”

“Of course I know about her. Who do you think chose her to be stationed with you?”

“Then all the more reason for me to thank you,” Cassia said. “Fadan shut me out when Aric was sent away. Thank you for keeping an eye on him.”

The High Marshal told her it was nothing with a wave of a hand. “It was as much Fabian’s idea as it was mine,” he said. “A Prince should not be alone.”  

“Oh, I’m pretty sure he is not alone. I think he has found a different kind of friend outside the Citadel, Intilla. That’s what worries me.”

“You have nothing to worry about. I am mobilizing every resource available to me. If the Prince is among the prisoners, we will find him and we will release him. The Emperor will be none the wiser. I guarantee that.”

Cassia studied the High Marshal. Was that display of confidence simply for her benefit? It wouldn’t be besides Intila to do so. He had always thought of her as some fragile, helpless little girl.

“I know you’ll do everything you can,” the Empress replied. “Just tell me one thing, and please be honest.”

“I’m always honest with you, Cassia.”

She nodded. “What will Tarsus do if he finds out about Fadan’s… abilities?”

“He’s your husband,” Intila replied. “I would hope you, of all people, would know the answer to that.”

“That’s the problem,” Cassia said, getting up. “I really don’t.” 
 

“Margeth, what the heck are you doing?” Alman demanded, struggling with his shackles. “He’s a
friend
!”

The Arch-Duchess paced along the small basement, her eyes locked on Fadan. The Prince returned her stare, trying to look as calm as he could. He wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of wriggling uselessly against his restraints.

“How many of my people do you think your father would be willing to trade for you?” Margeth asked, ignoring Alman’s pleas.

“You’ll have to ask him,” Fadan replied. “I’m sure it’ll be an interesting conversation.”

“Margeth! This is insane!” Alman insisted. “He came here with
me
out of his own will.” 

The Arch-Duchess raised a finger at him. “You will address me as my Lady or Arch-Duchess,” she warned him. “You may have lost your title, but I have not.”

“Not yet, at least,” Fadan muttered.

“Ah!” Margeth returned her attention to the Prince. “Spoken as a true Epulon. There’s just one problem. Without his Legionaries, even an Emperor is as harmless as steel to a Dragon. You’re not in your Citadel anymore, young Prince.”

“If you really believe that,” Fadan replied, “why don’t you take this Syphon off of me?” He showed his hands and the Glowstone encrusted handcuffs binding them.

Margeth chuckled. “Please…” She stepped towards the Prince, reached into his shirt, and pulled the Transmogaphon around his neck out from under his clothes. “You are a Novice. Theudis over here could probably take you on his own.”

Fadan inspected the man. He was wearing a studded coat, much like the ones the weapons instructor always made him wear during practice. There was a long scar that split his face in two. It was evidence enough that this man knew how to use the sword hanging from his hip.

“So, explain this me.” Margeth looked to Alman. “The Prince lands on your lap, tells you he’s a Mage, and you send him to your brother for some lessons. You even supply him with all the Runium he needs, but you never thought about mentioning this to us?”

“I wanted him to join the Rebellion out of his own free will,” Alman explained. “It had to be
his
decision. He couldn’t be coerced.” His chin indicated Fadan’s shackles. “Don’t you see? It could change everything if he became one of us. Even some of the Legions could come to our side.”

Margeth shook her head. “You’re a good man, Alman Larsa, but you are also naïve. Do you honestly believe he would betray his father? You think the Prince would join the losing side of a civil war? For what? The throne? It’s his anyway. All he has to do is wait.”

“I might be naïve, Arch-Duchess,” Alman spat back at her as if the words tasted bitter. “But at least
I
know what I stand for. The Prince is a friend and
this
is not how the Rebellion should treat its friends. Do you want to know why the Prince came here?”

“As a matter of fact,” Margeth said. “Yes, I do.”

“To tell us how he plans on infiltrating the dungeons and help us release our friends.”

Fadan caught Shayna and Lucilla exchanging a look.

“Is that so?” the Arch-Duchess asked. “Well, you’ll have to forgive me if I’m skeptical. Besides, there’s so much we can achieve simply by threatening the Emperor that we’ll kill his precious heir. To me, that sounds a lot smarter than a suicide mission into the Citadel dungeons.”

“Wait,” Lucilla said. Everyone turned to face her. “If the Prince truly has a plan, I want to hear it.”

Margeth snorted. “You’re kidding, right?” she said. “I already made a decision.”

“You’re not in charge here,” Lucilla replied. “You might be an Arch-Duchess in Pharyzah, but here, in Augusta, you are a guest.” She turned to the Prince. “What was the plan?”

“There’s an access into the dungeons from the sewers,” Fadan explained. “Unfortunately, after my brother and I tried to release Doric from prison a few months back, that access was blocked. However, I can enter the dungeons from the Legion’s Headquarters using a spell. I’ve done it before. It shouldn’t be a problem. From there, I can open the sewer access and get your people into the dungeon.”

“I am aware of your attempt to break Doric out of jail,” Lucilla said. “It was brave, a bit foolish too, and this plan of yours sounds awfully similar to your previous attempt. We all know how
that
turned out.”

“We just have to make sure no one sounds the alarm,” Fadan replied. “But if it happens,” he looked at Alman, “we hide in one of the empty Palaces instead of going for the exits.”

Alman smiled and gave the Prince a nod.

“Hide about three hundred people
inside
the Citadel?” Lucilla asked. “I think not. Shayna, what do you think? Can it be done?”

The woman in the blue bandana shrugged. “Hard to say. It’s as the Prince says. We’d need to neutralize every guard inside the dungeon before any of them sounded the alarm. The problem is, how many guards are we talking about? Our intel of the dungeon is good, but with today’s raid, I think it’s safe to say that they’ll have changed things up a bit. My guess is they’ll have at least tripled the guard.”   

Lucilla nodded thoughtfully. “And you?” she asked Fadan. “Are you truly willing to help do this?”

“Yes,” Fadan replied. “I owe Sabium that much.”