Fairyfly II - 7. Streets of Thenelle

While two of his guards remained outside to keep watch, Prince Wilton rushed back into the inn in the company of Osma and two remaining guards. Even though his small party was in state of panic and shock over Dane’s sudden disappearance, the inside of the stuffy inn was just as they had left it - people were drinking booze and talking among each other as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“Bartender, who was that woman that sat there?” one of the prince’s guards asked the innkeeper as soon as they stepped foot inside. He pointed at the table near the door, which the blond woman had occupied until just recently.

“What woman?” the chubby man asked as he cleaned the bar with a wet cloth, barely stopping to look up at the guard.

“The blond one. She just left, and she has our commander! She must’ve put something in his drink,” the guard said, his impatience rising.

“I… don’t know. Could be anyone. We get a lot of travelers here. You know, folks like you,” the man shrugged and lowered his head, as if trying to hide his discomfort. “Sorry, can’t help ya.”

“What about you?” Wilton asked as he stood at the center of the inn, turning around to look at everyone. “Does any of you know who that woman was? We’re prepared to give a generous reward if you can tell us where to find her.”

As much as he thought the mention of a reward should seal the deal, the prince found himself disappointed when the patrons barely even glanced in his direction. Those who did acknowledge him merely shook their heads or shrugged before going back to nursing their drinks, while a few of them quickly gathered their belongings and filed out, as if in a rush to leave.

“What is this? Quit pestering my customers, you’ll drive them away,” the innkeeper hissed at the small group, smacking the now dirty and sticky cloth against the counter. “Unless you’re going to order something, I’m going to have to ask you to leave!”

“We can do much worse than scare your customers off,” the other guard approached him menacingly, his hand quickly finding its way to the hilt of his sword. The gesture was quite clear and enough for the innkeeper to shut his mouth and silently nod at the guard.

“Of course,” he muttered, glancing between the two soldiers that eyed him carefully. “How about I bring you all drinks on the house. Maybe, uh, maybe your friend just got lucky. I’m sure he’ll come back once he’s had his fill.”

With a new round of free drinks, the four travelers went back to their table. However, none of them were in the mood to drink anymore that night.

“Something fishy is going on here,” the prince whispered to his companions as he stole glances at the few remaining people in the inn. Three men were sitting at a table on his left, drinking and talking quietly. Just as Wilton looked over in their direction, one of the men, a young fellow with cropped black hair and trimmed beard, made eye contact for a brief moment before looking away. “Did you see how nervous they all got when I asked about that woman? I don’t believe for a second that they don’t know who she is.”

“I agree,” Osma nodded. “But what can we do? We can’t force them to tell us the truth. They may lie to us just to get us off their backs.”

“They’re scared of something, that’s for sure,” one of the guards said. “If even the promise of gold isn’t enough to make these hicks talk, it means something’s got them spooked.”

“Are you sure about what you saw, your highness?” the other guard asked. “Maybe the Lord Marshall really just got lucky and wanted to get wild for a night. He did have a few mugs of ale, too.”

The prince immediately shook his head, not even considering the man’s theory. “Have you met him? Dane doesn’t ‘get wild’. He would rather cut off his own arm than abandon his duty. And we all know how well he can handle his liquor. Three mugs are like a drop for him.”

“You’re right, your highness,” the first guard agreed. “But what shall we do then?”

Just as Wilton opened his mouth to speak, the two men from the nearby table stood up to leave. While they made their way through the inn and went out the door, their companion stayed behind, approaching the table occupied by the prince and his party.

“Her name is Lyra,” the man whispered, getting the group’s attention.

“You know who she is?” one of the guards asked. “Where can we find her?”

“A little ways east of here, from what I’ve heard. I’ve never went out to look for her, and if I were you, I’d do the same. Forget you ever saw her and go your own way.”

“We can’t do that! She has our friend,” Wilton replied. “And care to tell us why we should be afraid of her?”

“She’s some kind of a… a witch,” the man replied quietly, leaning closer toward the prince to make sure no one can overhear them. “I don’t know what kind of tricks she does, but as far as I know, she’s already taken several men from the town. So, unless you want to be next on her list of victims, you better pack your bags and get out of here. I know I will.” With that, he hurried out of the inn, not looking back.

“We can’t just abandon Dane, especially if he’s in danger,” the prince said. “Witch or not, we have to go look for him.”

“How do we know that man was telling the truth?” Osma asked.

“We don’t, but it doesn’t matter either way. We must find the Lord Marshall,” one of the guards said, turning to the other one. “Gage, what do you say you join Camdyn and Heath and go look for Dane. I’ll stay here to watch the prince and Osma.”

“What? No, we’re all going!” the prince protested a little more loudly than he had intended to, his right hand finding the sword he carried around, grabbing it by the hilt. “You’re not leaving me here to sit around and do nothing!”

“Brock is right, your highness. The three of you should stay here. It could be dangerous, and I am not about to have to explain to the king why we lost both his son and the Lord Marshall when we return. We can’t risk anything happening to you.”

“I’ll have the four of you to protect me. Even if that woman is a witch, she’s outnumbered.”

Both men simply shook their heads, the stern look on their faces showing that they were not to be convinced.

“I apologize, your highness, but King Theodore’s main order was to keep you safe at all costs. And if that means having to lock you up in a room here, then that’s what we’ll do,” Brock explained. He then glanced at his fellow guard, nodding toward the inn door. “You should go. Join those two outside and go get Dane back. And be careful. Don’t risk your lives. We still have to get the prince back to Thorodan after all of this is over.”

“We’ll get him back. Your highness,” Gage nodded at the prince before leaving the inn.

While Wilton was busy muttering about being left out and treated like a child, the remaining guard went to the innkeeper to request a room for the night.

“It’s for the best,” Osma tried to console the prince. “They’re experienced fighters, they can handle this.”

“So is Dane, and look at what happened to him.”

“Still, he was alone. Together, the four of them can take on that woman, even if she has magic powers.”

“I hope so,” Wilton replied, although he did not sound convinced one bit.

The hour was late, and soon the prince and his two remaining companions went upstairs to the room reserved for them. Aside from two small beds, two tiny cupboards and a few chairs, the room was practically empty. It was certainly not a bedchamber to which a prince was accustomed.

“Well, this is… simple,” Wilton said as he looked around, forgetting about his worries for a moment. “But we’ll have to make do, I suppose. Osma, which bed do you want?”

“You choose, your highness, I’m fine with any,” the servant girl replied obediently.

“Alright, then,” the prince mustered a smile and approached the bed closer to the window. When he turned around, he could see the guard standing in the doorway. “Well, Brock, aren’t you coming in? The beds are quite small, but I’m sure we can-”

“That’s alright, I’ll stay here and keep watch,” the man replied, not making any effort to enter the room.

“Eh, I know I can’t convince you otherwise, so have it your way,” Wilton shrugged good-naturedly. “When you get tired, wake me up and I’ll be happy to take over the guard duty. Just because I’m the prince, doesn’t mean I can’t keep watch.”

After a round of goodnights, the guard closed the door from the outside, leaving the prince and the servant girl to sleep.

Minutes passed, but the young prince still lay sleepless in his small bed, observing the small patch of night sky through the window. He could not get the image of Lord Marshall Dane out of his mind, standing next to that woman, looking entranced. What if his guards suffer the same fate? He couldn’t leave them on their own, he had to try and help.

Suddenly, the prince sat up, feeling dull pain in his back from being slammed into a tree by that witch. It was nothing serious, but it hurt when he moved in a certain way. He looked around, his eyes now accustomed to the darkness. Reaching over, he grabbed his coat and shoes and put them on, before heading toward the balcony. Trying to be as quiet as possible, he opened the door and stepped outside, glancing down as he held onto the railing. They were only on the first floor, and that walnut tree certainly looked close enough to try and climb down it.

“Your highness, what are you doing,” a whisper startled the young man, causing him to turn around abruptly.

“Osma, you scared the living daylights out of me! Don’t sneak up like that!” Wilton admonished her, though the look on his face made it clear he was not too angry at the girl.

“I apologize. But… what are you doing out here?”

“I’m going to look for Lord Marshall Dane. And since Brock won’t let me out the door, I’m going to have to take an… alternate route,” he explained, a crooked smile spreading on his face. “You can go back to sleep, or you can come with me.”

The girl looked back and forth between the safety of the room and the uncertainty of the dark outside, struggling to make a decision on the spot. As much as she feared getting into trouble, she did not wish to leave the prince alone. Finally, the desire to accompany her master prevailed.

“Let me just put on my shoes,” she whispered and rushed back inside. In no time, she was back on the balcony, shoes on her feet and a long cloak around her shoulders.

After carefully climbing down the sturdy branches of the walnut tree, the pair was back on solid ground. Following the words of the man from the inn, they immediately headed east, trying to find anything unusual.

“What would a sorceress’ house even look like?” Wilton wondered as they entered a new street, looking all around for anything that might point them in the right direction. He had never visited any, he suddenly realized. In fact, the only sorcerers he had met were the ones that served in his father’s court, but most of them were old and seemed so boring that not even the ability to do magic could make them interesting.

“Have you noticed anything curious?” he whispered to his companion, having a tight grip on his short sword. Hopefully we wouldn’t have to use it.

The girl simply shook her head.

“No. She could be anywhere.”

“True… I wonder where the guards are, we haven’t seen them either. Though perhaps it’s for the best, they wouldn’t be thrilled if they saw us out here.”

“I hope they’re alright.”

The pair lost all track of time as they scoured the streets of Thenelle, looking for Lyra’s house. They stopped when they reached yet another intersection, with two alleys going in different directions. With no plan or map to guide them, choosing the correct path was a roll of the dice. Eventually, they opted for the left path.

“Left is always right, as they say,” Wilton whispered, giving Osma a playful wink. All of his current confidence was just for show, but it was his way of dealing with a stressful situation. If he had allowed fear to rule him, he would never have left that room at the inn. He would have stayed and let his guards deal with everything, but what kind of an example would that set? He was the prince, and sooner or later, he would have to step up and assume some responsibilities, as scary as that sounded.

Moments after they stepped into the alley, Wilton could hear something behind him, and then, he felt Osma’s hand gripping his arm. She was scared. The unmistakable sound of footsteps, even though light, echoed in the stillness of the night behind them, causing them to stop and turn around. They both froze as they saw two shadowy figures standing at the entrance to the alley. The prince did not need to see their faces to know they were up to no good.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” one of the men asked in a mocking tone. “Isn’t it too late for you lovebirds to take a stroll?”

“Don’t you know it’s dangerous to go out at night? You better give us all your gold or someone might steal it from you,” the other man said, causing his partner to snicker.

“We- we don’t have anything,” Wilton replied, squaring his shoulders, making his tall frame appear even larger.

“Yeah, as if we believe that with the way you’re dressed,” the first man spoke again, drawing a blade, while his companion appeared to be holding a heavy wooden bat in his hands. “That coat alone must be worth a few gold coins! And I bet you have some nice jewelry underneath it, too.”

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, your choice,” the other thief said, taking a threatening step towards the pair.

Acting on instinct, the prince drew his sword, pointing it at the two men, only to be met by scornful sniggers.

“You sure you know how to use that, boy?”

“I’m a prince, I’ve had combat training since I was nine,” Wilton thought, suddenly thankful to his father for insisting on the rigorous training in a variety of combat techniques and weapons. The problem was, he had never been in a fight against actual enemies, only royal soldiers whose duty was to practice with him.

“Try me,” he spoke out loud, challenging the men. Perhaps if he showed some confidence, they wouldn’t see just how scared he actually was. “Osma, stay back,” he ordered the girl, gently pushing her back.

Before the prince could even realize what was happening, one of the men lunged toward him, slashing his blade in an arc. Wilton stepped back at the last moment, barely avoiding the weapon from tearing across his chest. Suddenly spurred into action, he swung with his sword. A loud clash pierced the air when the two weapons connected as the thief parried the strike.

While the two fought, the other thief stepped forward, setting his sights on Osma. The girl scampered off, the man chasing after her.

The first attacker quickly recovered, bouncing on his feet and looking for an opening. He expertly evaded Wilton’s strikes and tried to counter with his own, but the prince was more than a match for him. As the thief darted to the side and attempted a leg sweep, the prince quickly jumped back out of his reach. Then, just as Wilton was about to strike, a loud crash from behind caused him to hesitate.

“Osma!” Wilton quickly glanced over to see what was happening, noticing Osma smacking her attacker with a large wooden plank.

“You little bitch!” the man growled in fury as he took off after her, though she seemed too fast.

While Wilton was distracted, his opponent saw a perfect opportunity. He slashed with his dagger just as the prince turned back to him with his arm raised. Wilton winced as the blade cut his forearm, the wound beginning to bleed. However, there was no time for pain. Angered by the attack, he swung his sword with all his might, knocking the thief’s blade from his hands. With another quick slash, he cut the man across the chest, causing him to fall down to the ground. The young prince quickly grabbed the man’s blade and turned around, only to see Osma being backed up against the wall, the much larger man towering above her.

“Everything you got - hand it over!” he demanded, wrestling the plank out of her hands.

“Leave her, unless you want to end up like your partner,” Wilton shouted at the man, getting his attention. The man’s eyes immediately shot toward him, and he could see the other thief lying motionless on the ground. With no consideration for his partner in crime, the man bolted down the street as fast as his legs could carry him, never looking back.

Relieved, the servant girl looked at the prince. “Thank you,” she let out a breath, “thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it. You seemed to have held your own quite well,” he noticed. “We’ll make a fighter out of you yet.”

“No, thank you,” she quickly shook her head, just in case he was being serious. “Let us not do this ever again!”

“Heh, I might have to agree. I can’t quite say I’ve enjoyed getting cut,” he replied, suddenly feeling the stinging in his forearm.

“You’ve been hurt?!”

“It’s nothing. I’ll live,” Wilton tried to play it off, but the young servant was having none of it.

“We have to go back and get it cleaned and wrapped up,” she insisted, looking at his arm. “Please.”

With a sigh, the prince nodded. There was no point in arguing, not that he had the strength to do so anyway. The tension and excitement from the fight were beginning to wear off, and soon all he could feel was tiredness and pain, as well as the stinging feeling of failure from not finding his Lord Marshall. Itching to return to their warm room, the pair turned around and headed back, not stopping until they were back at the safety of the inn.

~~

The smell of damp grass and soil, mixed with fresh spring air, tickled Quinn’s nostrils as he rushed through the bushes and trees in his Blazetongue form. Having poor night vision, the large lizard used its forked tongue to guide him and detect the abundance of scents and taste stimuli that filled the air. Howls of the Lykos that went out to run and hunt echoed through the forest, but Quinn paid them no mind. With his ability to breathe fire, larger predators knew he was not a prey they should be going up against.

It was still the dead of the night when Quinn began to notice the trees becoming increasingly sparser – he was reaching the end of the forest. The journey was long, but certainly worth it – he had discovered crucial information that would help him in his mission, even without the aid of the shifty sorcerer.

Shifting back into his human form, the guard found his horse tied up to a tree right where he had left it, at the edge of the woods. The animal, which seemed to have been sleeping, woke up at the sound of its master’s footsteps.

“Hey, girl, I hope you’ve had a nice nap. Time to go home now,” he stroked the beautiful black horse’s mane and proceeded to mount it. Together, they quickly made their way through town, taking every shortcut and familiar path that they’ve taken many times before. It was not long before they reached the secret hideout where Norius and Rulf were waiting for him.

Dismounting the horse, Quinn unlocked the door and entered the building, never noticing the crow that had been following him the entire time.

With an ominous caw, the black bird made a circle above the house and took off back where it came from, straight to its master’s home.

~~

The sound of wings fluttering in the air woke Khalgos up. Rubbing his eyes, the old sorcerer realized he had fallen asleep in an armchair in his library, with a large book on mind magic in his lap. His pet crow had just entered through a small opening near the ceiling, designed just for it. However, instead of flying over to sleep in its usual spot by the living room window, it zoomed toward Khalgos until it landed on the armrest, cawing at him to wake him up.

“Char, what’s the matter?” the man whispered, gently stroking the bird across its back and wings. “You’ll wake Esthor up.”

The bird paid no attention to its master’s warning - it had an important message to deliver. It kept cawing, its intelligent, black eyes gazing into the sorcerer’s.

“Are you certain of that?” Khalgos asked, evidently alarmed. The animal confirmed with another caw.

Now wide awake, the sorcerer bolted from his armchair, rushing out of the library and towards the spare bedroom. It had taken him a lot of effort to convince Esthor to get some sleep until the morning. After all, there would be no point in trying to visit Lyra before dawn. If she was as unhelpful as rumors had it, she would probably be even worse if they dared to disturb her in the middle of the night. But with Char’s new revelation, everything had changed. They had to move quickly.

“Esthor, get up, we have to go,” the old man approached the bed and gently shook his former student by the arm. It didn’t take him long to wake the young man up.

“What?” Esthor muttered as he rubbed his eyes, slowly coming to his senses. “What’s happening?”

“Char found out where our kidnapper went. We have to go!”

That was all it took for Esthor to open his eyes, suddenly wide awake. He jumped out of bed as if it was on fire.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Char followed him to his hideout. If we hurry, perhaps we’ll find him there,” Khalgos explained as he started getting ready. “Let us hope that is where he is holding Rulf.”

“I know. We can’t waste any more time,” Esthor agreed. He quickly grabbed his wand and changed his sleeping gown into a simple pair of pants, boots and a jacket. “I’m ready. Let us go at once.”

Feeling the chill night air on their faces, the two men rode through the Howling Forest on their horses, going as fast as they could. Their magic scepters provided them with some light, which mixed with the little moonlight that managed to penetrate through the canopies.

With Khalgos’ pet crow as their guide, they travelled without stopping. It was still night when they reached Thenelle, making their way through the city and into the northern quarter where their target was hiding. Once they finally reached an old, unassuming house in a rather poor area of the city, the bird let out a caw as it flew upwards, circling above the building.

“We’re here,” Khalgos said, stopping his horse across the street. “It’s that building over there.”

“There’s no lights inside,” Esthor noticed. He felt nervous, scared even. Not for himself, but for his lover. What if something goes wrong and Rulf gets hurt before he managed to rescue him? He could never forgive himself if that happened. They would have to be very careful, as they had no idea what was awaiting them inside that building. Even a single misstep could have fatal consequences. “We have to be very careful. I should shift and try to find a way inside. They won’t notice me.”

“I agree,” the old man nodded. “Go before the sun rises. I’ll wait here until you return.”

Closing his eyes and focusing, Esthor turned into his fairyfly form, nearly invisible in the shadows of the night. He flew toward the building and quickly found a crack in the wooden door, just large enough for him to pass through.

The room was empty and almost completely dark, the only light coming from the fire that still burned in the old fireplace. Someone was clearly there - or at least had been there recently.

A quick look into the only other room in the back confirmed Esthor’s worst suspicions - the place was empty. If Rulf’s kidnapper had indeed been there, he was now gone.

“If they hurt Rulf, I swear, when I find them…”

“We mustn’t think that way,” Khalgos replied, standing next to his former student now back in his human form. “If Char followed the man all through the forest, we must assume he spied on us and heard us talk.”

“That means he knows about the sorceress!”

“Exactly, and he is likely planning to bring Norius to her. We must go to Lyra at once.”

The two men left the house and went to retrieve their horses, when Esthor suddenly stopped.

“Wait. I think we should split up.”

“Why?”

“I think I should go see Lyra, and you should go to the castle and inform Queen Loreena about what has happened. We don’t know what Norius is planning next, and it’s best that she is prepared. Tell her about this house, perhaps she can send some men to keep an eye on it.”

After a few moments, the old man nodded reluctantly. “Very well. I do not like the idea of splitting up, but I suppose it is for the best right now. Just… be careful. Don’t do anything rash.”

“You mean like killing Norius as soon as I lay eyes on him?” Esthor replied. It would take all of his self-restraint not to do that.

“Yes, precisely that,” the old master said before mounting his horse. “You’re smart, I know you can take care of yourself.”

After one last look at his former student, he turned around and rode off west, toward the royal castle.