Fairyfly II - 2. A Reluctant Bargain

With slow and careful motions, Esthor and Rulf crawled through the tunnel beneath the royal castle, trying to find any clues as to who could have helped Norius escape and where. So far, they were unlucky. It looked like any other regular tunnel - cramped, uncomfortable and stuffy. All they could tell with certainty was that it kept going north.

“We should’ve waited till nightfall,” Rulf panted as he followed Esthor. The sorcerer insisted on going first since he was able to light the way with his magic. “Would’ve been so much easier to go through this thing as a wolf. And maybe I would’ve smelled something useful,” the Lykos added, as his wolf form provided him with a keen sense of smell. Human nose could simply not compare.

“I know, but that would give them plenty of time to erase all tracks, if they haven’t done so already,” Esthor said, not slowing down even a bit. Rulf, who was usually the stronger one, had trouble keeping up. “We can’t afford to wait, we need to find them as soon as possible.”

“Esthor, I know, but slow down a little,” Rulf complained, touching his boyfriend’s leg from behind.

“Did you not hear what I just said? We need to hurry up! It’s been hours since they escaped. By this time, they could have left the capital!”

“Exactly, which is why there’s little point in rushing. Whoever freed Norius is crafty. They’re either well hidden or far away by now,” the Lykos said. “If you think I don’t know what’s on your mind, you’re wrong. I know you want to help, but you need to know this is not your fault.”

Esthor stopped and after a few moments turned his head to look at Rulf.

“Isn’t it?” He asked angrily, gripping his scepter so hard that his knuckles turned white. “If I had killed Norius when I had the chance, none of this would’ve happened! But no, I had to try and teach him a lesson. As if that would’ve ever done any good. He was never going to change… And now, if he does something horrible again-”

“He’ll be the one to blame, not you. You’re not responsible for his actions. It’s not your fault he’s a sorry excuse for a human being,” Rulf tried to reason with him. “I mean it, honey. I’m going to repeat this to you every day if necessary, until it gets through that thick skull of yours. You only did what you thought was right, and no one can fault you for that. Hell, you were the one who defeated him in the first place.”

“Yes, I had to make things right because I started this entire mess in the first place when I...” Esthor stopped himself, remembering how much Arabella had meant to Rulf. He still felt guilty about it sometimes - it was something he just couldn’t help. “Ugh, let’s just go,” he frowned and turned around again, continuing to crawl through the tunnel.

Rulf followed closely behind as uncomfortable silence settled between them. A few moments later, he spoke again. “You’re wrong, by the way. Fendrel started all of it, not you.”

The sorcerer didn’t reply. He was too angry to talk, especially when Rulf tried to counter all of his arguments. Wasn’t his boyfriend supposed to be on his side?

Without stopping, the pair continued making their way underground, barely speaking a word until they finally reached the end of the tunnel. Esthor stopped, seeing that the exit was blocked with large rocks that he had no hope of moving by hand.

“Predictable,” he rolled his eyes, pointing his scepter in front of him. Without much difficulty, he muttered a spell and sent a wave of energy that pushed the rocks outside, unsealing the exit. He learned that trick when he was nine.

The tunnel immediately filled with sunlight. Carefully, the two men crawled out, their eyes adjusting to daylight. Finally out on the surface, they found themselves behind shrubs that hid both them and the tunnel entrance from view. As they looked around, they noticed they were in Amberfell, a settlement on the very outskirts of Thenelle, the capital city of Alduin. The dense thicket around them acted as the perfect hiding place. Further south was the nearest road, just a narrow dirt path that led to rows of old wooden houses. It was one of the poorer and less crowded areas of the city.

Rulf stood up straight, brushing the dirt and soil off his clothes with his hands. Once he was done, he looked up and saw Esthor back in his fancy blue outfit that he wore to the castle. He let out a soft chuckle, but didn’t say a word. Esthor was already annoyed with him, and the last thing the Lykos wanted was to make him even angrier.

“Damn it, there are no tracks at all,” the sorcerer muttered, searching the ground for footprints. “They must’ve covered them up already.”

“Well, we saw it coming,” Rulf frowned. “Come on, let’s take a look around. Maybe someone’s noticed something.”

The two young men headed toward the nearest row of houses. It was an area of town that they didn’t know well at all, so they hoped to find some locals to talk to. As they walked through the streets, they noticed some of the old, dilapidated houses were boarded up, clearly abandoned for a long time. Others, however, were inhabited, with people working in their backyards, taking care of their animals and plucking weeds from their gardens.

Unfortunately, it seemed as though their search was in vain. Whoever the couple approached proved to be useless, saying they hadn’t noticed anything strange at all.

As Esthor and Rulf stood in front of one of the houses, talking to the owners, a pair of eyes observed them behind a boarded up window of a battered cottage near the end of the street. The man stood near the window, watching them to see what they would do next. When they finally turned around and left, he released the breath he was holding and stepped away.

“We have to leave this place as soon as night falls,” he said, picking up his coat and putting it on.

“Why, what is happening?” Norius said, nervously turning around. He was sitting on a wooden stool, one of the few pieces of furniture still left in the house. Being blind and at the mercy of a complete stranger didn’t do anything to calm his nerves. Even though he was free from the dungeon where his wife held him locked up, he still felt like a prisoner.

“The sorcerer was just here, I saw him snooping around,” the man replied. “He’s gone now, so you’ll be safe here, for now at least. I have to go back to the castle, but I’ll be back before sunset. Then we move to my other hideout.”

“That cursed mage!” Norius grumbled, smashing his fist against the table in front of him. “Will I ever be free of his bloody meddling?!”

“You will,” the stranger said, his voice cold as ice. “We just have to be patient and play it smart.”

After Esthor and he once again sealed the tunnel entrance with rocks, Rulf headed back to town. Even though he occasionally held classes to young shifter children, he still worked at a local workshop as a carpenter. It was a job that he loved and that helped him feel calm even when facing difficulties in life.

Meanwhile, Esthor returned to the castle. Unfortunately, he had to give the queen the bad news that he was unable to find anything about Norius and his accomplice - or accomplices. Despite all of Rulf’s attempts to ease his mind and make him feel better about the whole situation, Esthor couldn’t escape the feeling of guilt and tension that followed him wherever he went. Norius was free, and the sorcerer had no idea what his plan was, if any? All he knew was that nothing good could come out of it and that he would just have to be prepared for the old king’s return. They all would.

“I appreciate your help nonetheless. At least we know they’ve been to Amberfell, so that’s a starting point. We need to search from there,” the queen said, looking sombre. She then turned to the guard commander, who stood nearby. “Gilda, send a few of your fastest men to Amberfell. Tell them to keep an eye out. If Norius makes an appearance, we need to capture him… Preferably alive.”

“Your Majesty, have you gotten closer to figuring out who helped Norius escape?” Esthor interjected. “I mean… with all due respect, but how can you know whoever you send there isn’t the traitor?”

“Perhaps I can’t vouch for all my guards, but I would trust Gilda with my life,” the queen stated confidently. After Zane’s death and Norius’ defeat, Gilda had quickly proven to be perfectly capable of leading the guards and protecting her new queen. Loreena had no doubts about her.

“And we shall send several men. Even if one of them is the accomplice, the others may not be. I can’t be sure, but I have to have faith in my people,” the queen added, before addressing the commander. “Gilda, you may leave now.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the tall, red-haired woman nodded. “I appreciate your faith in me, it means more than you know.”

“This is where the tunnel ends,” Esthor said, handing Gilda a map of the capital with the marked location of the area he and Rulf had searched. “Also, we should place protective wards around and inside the castle. I can instruct you on how to do it when you’re finished outside.”

“Thank you, I’d appreciate that,” the woman replied and left the room, heading for the barracks.

Born to a family of merchants in the neighboring Kingdom of Thorodan, Gilda and her family moved to Alduin while she was still a little girl. Having a sickly younger brother whom she always wanted to protect, Gilda never shied away from throwing punches when she had to. From a young age, she was taller and stronger than all the girls in her town, and even than many of the boys. Thus, not many of them dared to tease her or her sibling.

Her parents always pushed her to read more and study other languages, hoping to steer her in that direction and keep her away from trouble. However, Gilda was never one to be able to sit inside all day, with her head buried in books. She neglected her studies instead decided to put her physical prowess to good use and start combat training, especially sword fighting. This eventually led her to cutting her hair and posing as a man so that she could join King Norius’ royal guard. By the time she was exposed and reported to the king, it was too late – she had already impressed him with her agility and bravery, and he decided to keep her on.

Now, Gilda had risen from the position of the only female guard to the new commander. Even though she felt she was perfectly capable for the job, she had a difficult task ahead of her: proving her worth to other soldiers. Many of the guards were supporters of King Norius and their late commander Zane. They believed a woman had no place being their leader, especially one who was not even from Alduin. They never dared openly express their dissatisfaction, seeing as how the entire country was also ruled by a woman. Still, that did not stop them from giving Gilda a hard time and undermining her authority any chance they got.

The commander entered the barracks - a large building behind the castle, where soldiers spent their free time resting or training. Some of the guards promptly looked up to see who it was, while others largely ignored her. She frowned, but strode on until she reached a massive table where a dozen soldiers were sitting, drinking and playing cards.

“The queen has a new mission, we need two men for it.”

“I can go,” a tall, black-haired guard named Quinn volunteered.

“Thank you, Quinn, but we need Falk and Boris for this. Fellas, you’re the fastest riders we’ve got. Get your horses ready at once,” she instructed two young men sitting by the window.

“Can’t you just fly on your broom?” one of the men muttered from behind, drawing out chuckles from a few of the other soldiers.

“What was that, Henry?” Gilda turned on her heels, glaring at the man who provoked her. “Try saying that to my face and see if you’ll still have all your teeth.”

The man frowned, keeping quiet.

“That’s what I thought. Falk, Boris, get ready to ride out and meet me at the gate. And Henry, you’re on stable duty this week. I hope you like cleaning up horse shit,” the woman issued orders before leaving the barracks.

By the time she got to the castle gates, Falk and Boris were already waiting for her, standing next to their horses.

“Amberfell’s the location, boys,” she said, giving the guards the map that Esthor had marked. “That’s where the tunnel leads, so we ought to keep an eye on it in case someone shows up. Get there as fast as you can and find a good scouting location. Make sure you’re well hidden. We don’t want to reveal our position. And boys... if you do find the king, feel free to use force, but try to get him back alive if you can.”

“Understood, commander,” the two men nodded. After mounting their horses, they headed off to set up their ambush.

~~

Lying on a tattered old couch, Norius couldn’t sleep as much as he tried to. He couldn’t stop thinking about his life and how it turned around so drastically. A fugitive in his own kingdom, forced to run and hide. It made him feel betrayed, but mostly furious. The desire to reclaim his kingdom and get revenge against his enemies were the only things driving him forward.

At the first sound of the door opening, he jumped off the couch. Paranoid, he held his breath and waited. After months in the dungeon, he had gotten used to not being able to see, but now that he was on the run with whoever had freed him, even the slightest noise was a cause for alarm. He wasn’t sure who he could trust anymore.

The door unlocked and he heard footsteps, followed by the key turning in the lock again.

“Who goes there?” he asked, his rough voice masking his fear.

“Relax, it’s me,” the man said, clearly seeing the nervousness on Norius’ face. “We move tonight. Here, I brought you some food before we head out.”

The man placed a bag of food on the table and Norius greedily grabbed it, sniffing it. He could smell some meat and cornbread. Suspicious, he inspected it with his fingers for a few moments before taking a bite out of the bread.

“You can eat freely, it’s not poisoned,” the man chuckled. “Why would I go through all the trouble of getting you out only to kill you now.”

“I don’t know,” Norius muttered in between bites, too hungry to stop eating. “I don’t know why you freed me and I still don’t even know who you are.”

The man sat down next to him and took a swig of ale from a bottle that stood on the table. It was cheap and warm, but it did the trick.

“Do you not recognize my voice?”

For a moment, Norius stopped eating. He turned towards the man, as if waiting for him to say something else.

“I’m not sure. Hell, I’ve been locked up for so long, I don’t remember the last time I talked to someone other than myself,” the former king said, looking glum.

“My name’s Quinn,” the man finally spoke, looking at Norius to see if his name would elicit any kind of reaction from him. “I’ve been in your guard under late commander Zane for three years.”

The young guard came from a poor family and was still living with his parents. Having worked as farmers their whole lives, they did not have much to their name. In fact, they were barely making ends meet until Quinn started working for the king. Tall and strong, with olive skin and wavy black hair, the twenty-five year old was a handsome man who could have any girl he wanted – or nearly any. Despite his many conquests, he remained single, much to the chagrin of his elderly parents. Whenever they would start nagging him to find a girl ‘who would make an honest man out of him’, he would only smirk and say that his time hadn’t come yet.

“Quinn…” Norius repeated, trying to recall. “The name’s familiar for sure.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” the guard shrugged, unbothered by it. There were dozens of guards situated at the castle and around the capital, so of course Norius wouldn’t remember every single one of them. “What matters is what we do now that you’re free.”

“I may be free from that dungeon, but I won’t be free until I get this damned thing off my face! Curse that sorcerer!” Norius spat out, angrily pulling at the blindfold, but it would not budge.

“Calm down and listen to me. Throwing a tantrum won’t do us any good,” Quinn said, his voice clearly showing that he was not to be messed with. “We need to make an arrangement, you and I. I got you out of there for a reason, alright?”

“And what reason would that be?” Norius asked. He was king for decades, ruling Alduin, fighting battles and negotiating treaties with other kingdoms. He knew very well that nothing in life was free, and if this man had helped him, he was surely expecting something in return. The question was what? If Norius’ intuition was not deceiving him, the price would be steep.

“I’m willing to help you get rid of that… blindfold, and reclaim your throne. In return, you will give me Amelia’s hand in marriage,” Quinn presented his terms.

The king’s face froze for a moment as he considered the offer, as if he had any choice in the matter.

“You want... to wed my daughter?” Norius asked, his voice rough and dismissive. He wished he was in better shape and not blinded, so that he could put the impertinent young man in his place with nothing but his fists. Alas, the year he spent locked within four walls had left him weakened. Even if he could see, he’d be in no condition to fight.

“Yes, you heard me. I don’t think that’s too much to ask considering what I’m prepared to give you.”

“I heard you alright,” the older man replied. “What I’m dying to know is how do you plan to make all of this happen? Getting my throne back won’t be as easy as you make it sound.”

Quinn went silent for a while, pondering the other man’s words. He was right, it would be a difficult task, but one worth doing.

“We’ll do whatever it takes,” the guard said. “Do we have a deal?”

Norius extended his hand and Quinn took it in a firm handshake.

“You have my word,” the former king said solemnly. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to get his crown back, and if that meant making a promise he may or may not had the intention of fulfilling in the future, so be it.

“We ought to get going. My horse is just outside,” the young guard said, peeking through the window. The sun had set a while ago and there was not a soul in sight. “Now’s as good a time as any.”

He quickly gathered the few items he had and put them in his leather backpack. He then put on his plain, dark robe, pulling the hood on so that his face was obscured. Norius did the same, knowing he had to remain hidden at all costs.

Silently, they left the house. After locking the door and helping the older man mount the horse, Quinn was prepared to do the same. However, sudden noises from behind startled him. He could hear fast footsteps and the unmistakable sound of swords being drawn.

They were discovered.

“Who goes there?!” a male voice from behind him demanded. “Show yourselves!”

Tense, yet calm, Quinn stood by his horse, slowly turning around. He recognized the voice at once - it was Boris, one of his fellow guards, standing to his left. Another guard, Falk, was to his right. They stood firmly, their swords pointed at Quinn and Norius.

“Good evening,” he said, mimicking a rough, hoarse voice. “Name’s William. What… what is the matter?”

“And your friend over there?” the other guard asked, gesturing at Norius sitting on the horse, his back turned to them.

“That’s my father. I was going to take him to a healer. He’s old and not feeling well,” Quinn replied. Norius coughed, trying to sell the story.

“Come on, off with your hoods so we can see your faces. Then you can go,” the first guard insisted, raising his sword higher.

“Very well, I…” Quinn started to say, when he suddenly dropped the keys he was holding. He got down to pick them up, and before anyone could react, he was back up, throwing fistfuls of dirt in the two guards’ eyes.

“Get him!” Falk shouted, trying to regain his eyesight.

Quick as lightning, Quinn jumped on the horse and spurred him on.

“Hold tight,” he yelled at Norius, who immediately grabbed the younger man’s waist and held on for dear life.

High on adrenaline, they rode down the dark street, illuminated only by moonlight. They did not even reach the end of the street when Quinn glanced behind him, seeing the two guards already on their horses, trailing them.

“Oh, hell,” he muttered, urging the horse to go faster. “Change of plans, we’re going to have to make a detour.”

Instead of riding ahead as he had planned, Quinn turned right to his own neighborhood. He knew it like the back of his hand, hoping his pursuers didn’t have that advantage.

As much as he tried to make sudden turns left and right and zigzag between houses, he couldn’t shake the two men. The sound of horse hooves followed them constantly.

“Shit, they’re gaining on us,” the young man whispered to himself as he tried to figure out his next move. Suddenly, he steered the horse left. “Hold on, we’re going up!”

“What?” Norius asked, before suddenly feeling the horse climbing at great speed.

Having turned into a backyard behind a large storage facility that stretched through the entire street, Quinn led the horse to the northern end where he knew the roof was very low. He and his friends used to climb there as kids all the time, throwing corn kernels at birds that would fly by.

Climbing over a wooden ramp, the two fugitives were up on the flat roof within seconds. Falk and Boris stopped for a moment, trying to figure out how to get up there. Realizing it would be a waste of time, they decided to split up and try to surround the fugitives from two sides. While Boris took some time turning around and going to the other side, Falk quickly caught up to Quinn and Norius, waiting for them on the ground.

The horse jumped down to a small shed next to the storage, and then back to solid ground. Falk was already there, waiting for them.

“Halt! Dismount at once and surrender!” The guard commanded, drawing his sword once again.

“Hold onto the horse,” Quinn whispered to Norius before shifting into his animal form - a large, dark red lizard. As he opened his jaws, a jet of flame burst outwards, catching Falk unaware. The unfortunate man raised his shield, but not quite in time - his hands and forearms were already scorched. He screamed in pain as he keeled over from his horse.

Without wasting a moment, Quinn shifted back. He urged the horse on and quickly disappeared along with Norius behind the corner.

Seconds later, Boris was there, seeing his fellow guard on the ground, doubled over in pain.

“Falk!” the man yelled, jumping off his horse and rushing to his aid. “Come on, man, hold on!”

“Ugh, I’ll live. Go after them, idiot!” The other guard groaned in agony, rubbing his hands in the dirt. He dared not look at them, but the burning sensation was unlike any other pain he had ever experienced.

“Fuck, I’m not leaving you! We’ve got to get you to a healer, quickly,” Boris was adamant. With a lot of cursing from the other man, he somehow managed to help him get up on his feet.

“Where are we, anyway,” the injured man panted, holding onto the other man.

“The northern quarters,” Boris replied. “The farming area. There should be a medicine woman somewhere up the street. Just a little more, you can do it,” he tried to encourage his companion, as they slowly walked toward a healer’s house. Whoever the bastard that injured Falk was, he could wait another day.