Chapter 59: Flight

“Zultir? Are you certain she went to Zultir?” Radu asked again. It was the third time and Vondi was getting rather upset that he kept asking.

“I’m not positive but she, Tepi, some of her personal guards and several carriages were seen crossing the border through the woods west of Andelvon,” Vondi replied calmly, though her voice was tight and waspish. She was seated in the hall Radu reserved for strategy, tactics and war. As usual, Joric Kiltner occupied another seat at the large, Iron Pine table. It was unusual, though, that the Praetors of the Army and Navy were absent. “Since Andelvon is the southernmost city in Maragar and borders on Zultir, I would assume she’s there. It is possible, I suppose, that she could have crossed over only to hug the border on her way to Chemison or Volkar but each of those countries are several hundred leagues distant so...”

“Are you about done?” Radu growled.

“You ask the question over and over like you don’t believe me,” Vondi replied angrily. “I’m telling you what I know, Radu. Don’t blame me if it isn’t what you want to hear.”

Radu closed his eyes, but his body still remained stiff. He swallowed a few times and took a few deep breaths. Finally, he opened his eyes. The effect was only marginal, but he looked like he had relaxed if even just a slight bit.

“Do we have any informants in Zultir?” He asked, his voice less harsh than before.

Vondi lowered her head, looking carefully at her hands pressing against the iron pine table. For a moment, she remembered a similar time, years ago when she was perhaps only six of seven years old. She had leaned with her hands just as they are now, standing on one of the chairs so she could reach the top of the table, though probably somewhere farther along the side. She almost chuckled as she remembered, but the chuckle faded before it could be voiced. Her hands had been much smaller then and much younger. She remembered some words her mother had once told her, though she didn’t understand them. ‘Time passing is the only thing that is guaranteed in life.’

She looked up at her brother for a moment. At thirty-six, he still was a thin, wiry man – but no longer young. There was a hint or two of gray in his mostly black head of hair, now, and his belly was not quite as thin as it once was. There were a few worry lines on his face, centered on his eyes and sides of his mouth. His face wasn’t quite as lean as it once was, though there was now a more stern look than the playful man he’d been just a decade prior.

She let her head droop once more as she collected herself. The room was stuffy and musty, with no outside windows and only two thick, wooden doors set opposite each other as the only way in or out of the room. The only light came from smoky braziers hanging from the ceiling. They gave the room a burnt odor that Vondi often found intolerable. The walls were completely covered with different maps, showing the empire and the surrounding area with a great deal of precision. “I’m still waiting for word from my spies in the Zultiran castle. Hopefully, I’ll be able to give you greater certainty by the end of the week.”

“I need more, Vondi,” Radu breathed tightly. He raised his hand as his sister prepared to bight back. “I know you’re provided all you can – but I can’t help it. I want more. I want her. Here. In front of me. In chains. I want to stripe the flesh from her and her brat, my son, until there is no flesh left.”

Vondi raised her hands in defeat. “I can’t give that to you. I’m doing my best but...”

“You best isn’t good enough!” Radu roared, losing hold of his temper again. He glanced up, tears sparkling in his eyes. He blew out a deep breath at the ceiling. Then, his head dropped, hanging down as his tears spattered the stone casings of the floor.

“It isn’t against you, my sister,” he said more quietly. He looked back up at Vondi. “I hope you know that. I’m not calling you out. The truth is OUR best isn’t good enough. None of us. We’re behind in a game where being behind could mean disaster.”

His face fell and his tears continued to drip down his face. “It isn’t you. I can’t sleep. My dreams are filled with her treachery. My nights are filled with nightmares of what might be happening in Wenland, and they haunt me. Lately, they’ve been following me into the day.”

Vondi’s anger died as she watched her brother in turmoil. He was the strongest person she knew, capable of an almost iron will – but now he seemed little and broken. She didn’t like seeing her brother this way.

“No word from Audette, then?” Vondi asked gently. She didn’t add her worries to her brother’s. It would serve no purpose. She was having a tough time sleeping as well, her own nightmares haunting her.

“None,” Radu whispered, his hands going to his face. He sniffed as he rubbed at his eyes. “You know, I was considering becoming a pirate once. Now, I’d gladly give up this throne and take on that life if it just meant Audette would be safe.”

“The par-falcon does need time to rest, Radu,” Werten wheezed as he let himself in the room. The old man was winded, his thin form seeming almost lost in the voluminous gray cloak he wore. “The two of you have been sending notes back and forth so often, it’s a wonder the bird has been able to keep up. It’s a young bird, but even young birds need rest from time to time.”

“You didn’t mention this before,” Radu scowled in accusation. He had been so happy to hear from Audette – to be able to converse with her, after a fashion – that he’d jumped on the opportunity the par-falcon represented. The bird hadn’t rested hours from bringing a note before Radu was sending it on its way.

“I didn’t see the need,” Werten replied, easing down into a seat. His thin, almost emaciated hands gripped the side of the table firmly. “You and Audette have both had some training with falcons. You know they need time after a hunt. Yet you worked the poor par-falcon to the bone, sending messages within hours of receiving one.”

“It ... it never occurred to me,” Radu winced, taken aback. “It ... it’s magical. I didn’t ... is it that much like a falcon?”

“A falcon is one of the bird’s parents,” Werten replied, shaking his head. “It’s true, it’s a magical variant – but even magic has limits, m’lord. As you should well know.”

“So ... so it’s probably just resting then?” Radu asked, leaning back against a map covered wall. “It doesn’t mean something has happened to Audette? When can I expect more news from her?”

Werten shrugged. “I don’t know. It depends on how long the bird needs to rest.”

The old man scratched at his chin. “In the future, I would limit it to three trips a week. No more than four. Give it at least a half-day – if not a full day – between trips. It will let it conserve its strength.”

Werten turned to Vondi. “Have we narrowed down the Queen’s location?”

“Do not call that ... that... chaos-infused wretch ... a queen,” Radu ground out between gritted teeth, his anger quickly brushing aside his renewed hope. “Treason’s punishment, among other things, is loss of title.”

Werten nodded towards the Emperor. “Of course, Radu. I meant no offense.”

“My spies tell me she has crossed the border into Zultir,” Vondi interjected before Radu could respond.

“Zultir?” Werten mused. “That makes little sense. The Zultirans harbor only resentment towards us. Especially since the Red Guard has taken to killing any knights sent across our border.”

“There was an armistice delegation last summer,” Kiltner offered, his face lost in thought. “She housed them in the castle.”

“That’s normal for ambassadors,” Vondi pointed out.

“Usually,” Kiltner agreed. “Not always, though. Especially not for some of our more hostile neighbors – and who is more hostile to us than Zultir? Hostile ambassadors are housed at one of the inns in the city. Then, there’s also the fact that the Zultirans didn’t have ambassadorial status.”

“That’s thin, Joric,” Vondi remarked with a light scowl. “She could have been hoping to nurture a peace treaty. For chaos sake, I think I’m the one who suggested housing them in the castle – mostly so I could have my spies keep a close eye on them.”

Kiltner spread his hands in a shrug. “I’m just stating facts, Vondi. I certainly don’t know that it means anything.”

“No one knows what ANYTHING means,” Radu snarled. “I’m tired of what we don’t know. Tell me what we do.”

There was a brief silence as Vondi, Joric and Werten gazed at the table in front of them.

“My sources tell me the nobility are making a play in Wenland,” Joric announced quietly. His eyes raised hesitantly to meet his Emperor’s. “The Queen’s power hangs by naught more than a thread. The nobility are quietly amassing their power. I’m told the current favorite activity for the nobles is to build their armies. The Grand Duchies of Alwyn and Glouster have already amassed close to a thousand fighters. Dunber and Finley are close behind with Cava trailing somewhat, likely because Ataya summered there. Stanning is the lone quiet Duchy – but they could be forging their armies in secret. It is the poorest of the grand duchies so it would be difficult to overtly arm themselves.”

Radu looked troubled. “Queen Synel has the loyalty of the knights. That makes her formidable, no matter the armies amassed against her.”

“Does she?” Vondi asked, her face troubled. Radu looked at her inquisitively and she had the good grace to blush. “With Audette in country and the loss of her guard, I’ve redoubled my information gathering within Wenland. The Church of Tyln have been meddling with the Queen’s knights. Minor things, like pushing for more of the Tyln faithful to be taken as knights and building cases against knights who don’t hold allegiance to Tyln. It’s been a minor issue, so far, but since the majority of the nobility bend their knee to Tyln and are now amassing armies...”

“Queen Synel may be in trouble,” Joric summed up.

Troubled, Radu looked to one of his oldest friends and advisors. “What do you think, Werten?”

Werten paused a moment before holding his old, gnarled hands before him and staring at them. Though wrinkled and spotted, the hands never wavered and were steady. He turned them palm up, his fingers spread wide. The fingers were long and thin, and pale to nearly being translucent. He flexed them marginally and continued his silent contemplation. After another moment, the old wizard finally began speaking. “The world grows restless, and we have far more questions than answers. We look for safety in a world that seems to have none. We look for meaning in a world that mystifies us.”

The wizard looked up, his face tight and his eyes blazing. “You ask me for comfort, for words of reassurance. I have none for you, Radu. I spoke of the shattering of the scrying pool to one of my colleagues in the council of magi. I had hopes Arch Wizard Senot Gelbin, a counsellor to Grand Wizard Sela Uuntu, might have seen or heard of something similar. He had not, even after consulting with the library of the Magi.”

“All he brought me were more words of discomfort,” Arch Wizard Drau Werten continued. “We are a suspicious lot, always looking for an edge – more power or more influence. Few are more powerful than Gelbin and with the ear of the Grand Wizard, none are more influential. Sometimes I believe him the wisest of us; he turned down being appointed to the council so he could become a counselor to Uuntu. There are times I wish I had followed his lead – but then I would never have met you and that would have been a tragedy.”

“Arch Wizard Heg Selka, former confidante of Queen Synel, still hides within Wenland,” Werten continued. “He fears another coup like what occurred in Jacovia, and he readies himself to pit his power against the might of the Church of Tyln. That is a losing strategy. Even with the small cadre of wizards he’s managed to gather to his cause, the Church of Tyln’s power – granted by the god – is formidable.

“He has another purpose, however,” Werten went on. “One known to only a few. There has been a rash of powerful surges within Wenland. Mysterious echoes of a power beyond any we have ever known. Bursts of power that rock the very world beneath our feet. Something awakens from within. Something beyond our understanding. Uuntu has tasked Selka with discovering the source of this arcane might that we might understand it – and either harness it ... or stop it before it rips us asunder.”

“With that in mind, Gelbin sent me another scrying pool,” Werten confessed. “I have not told you because I have been loath to use it. A scrying pool serves its master. It can be used by any mage – but its master – its creator – will have access to all that is seen within it.”

Werten gave a great sigh, his knuckles digging into his eyes. “Perhaps I have been a great fool. Gelbin has never been an adversary and I have often called him a friend. Or perhaps I am paranoid, seeing ghosts where none exist.”

Werten shook his head and gave a wry laugh. “It doesn’t matter. With the world flailing around us, it is time for risks.”

“Gather something personal of Queen Zynna, my friend,” Werten said as he pushed against the table to stand. “Let’s solve one mystery before the others consume us.”

They gathered in a small basement room under Werten’s tower. Radu had gotten tired of being forced to repair livable quarters in the castle, so had cleared an entire tower and moved Werten there. Radu still had to repair the tower whenever Werten’s experiments went wrong, but the tower adjoined a storage center so guests weren’t inconvenienced.

Werten had always preferred a lower light level when he cast his magics, so there were candles sitting in small sconces along the wall. The light flickered and cast spurious shadows, but it was enough light to move through the room. Vondi looked around as she entered, but her eyes were quickly drawn to the very center of the chamber. A four-foot tall, ornate pedestal was mounted in the exact center of the room. It seemed carved from a single block of gray sandstone, and the carvings were exquisite. She walked up to it admiringly, her eyes wide at the delicate sculpting made to resemble flowers in bloom.

Joric, too, was quiet, as if a sound might disturb the room. He was a non-descript man, though his age had made him slightly rounder than he used to be. His steps were sure, though, and his eyes moved around and missed nothing. He dug his hands back into the cloak he wore as he approached the pedestal.

Unlike the previous scrying pool, which had been a functional marble bowl sitting on a simple stone pedestal, this one was beautiful. The pedestal was made of a dark gray rock, carved into gentle whorls, delicate flowers and ornate plumage. Every leaf, petal and edge were gilded in rich silver, providing a shining contrast to the darker stone. Unlike Werten’s original scrying pool, the pool on top of this pedestal was made of a white alabaster and was built into the pedestal itself instead of just sitting atop it. Inside the alabaster bowl was a rich pool of cerulean blue nestled within it.

“Gelbin was always an artist,” Werten admitted as he stepped over to the pedestal. “He can’t seem to make something functional without also making it beautiful.”

The old man sighed. “We all have our vices, I suppose.”

Werten turned to Radu as he walked to Vondi’s left, across from the old mage. “Did you find something personal of the queen?”

Soundlessly, Radu handed over a simple gold brush. Werten took it from him, cradling it in his large, old hands. His fingers moved over the tines of the brush, lightly fluttering over them. The old man pursed his lips then pulled out a long strand of dark brown hair. Werten regarded the hair carefully, then looped it back into the brush with a satisfied grin.

“Yes,” the old man said, looking up at Radu. “It still contains her hair. This will work fabulously.”

He addressed the bowl, the brush held lightly in his left hand. For the next few minutes, he chanted into the blue waters, occasionally letting the fingers of his right hand delicately touch the mirror-like surface. Watery rings fled from his fingers, gentle waves brushing up on the alabaster shore. Finally, he nodded and dipped the entire brush in the blue waters.

Random rings appeared on the water, flowing out and crashing with others. Colors amassed on the waves as the rings interfered with each other and the colors interfered with themselves. Over and over the water flowed, becoming turbulent and the surface began splashing as the rings crashed into one another.

“It’s different this time,” Radu said, surprised.

“Of course,” Werten replied distractedly. His eyes never left the pool as he examined it carefully. “We didn’t have to capture the essence from a human vessel and push the essence into the pool. We had something close to the target this time. The brush. Zynna’s hair. It is marked with her, and I don’t need to hold her essence within me.”

The pool seemed to almost bubble for a moment with water dancing above the rim only to fall back and make way for another plume. The rings roiled over the surface, crashing into one another in a chaotic tableau of watery carnage. The blue waters turned different colors as they crashed together, the gentle blue giving way to reds and oranges and yellows and purples and every other color across the spectrum.

“There,” Werten said finally, pointing at the surface of the water. The rings were less angry and the plumes of water slowed in their dance above the rim of the pool. “It clears. The spell requires it to answer our question – what does Zynna do within the borders of Zultir? Be forewarned - it does not show us the present, but rather the recent past.”