Aelir leaned forward, his lean arms coming to rest on the tabletop, nodding. “Lead them into thinking that a delegation is in transit with the items, tales of us sending out a mystery ship will give the Gray Ice false confidence. While a royal ship sets off in broad daylight, Pasil and the mahouk will sail out of the sea cave under cover of night.”
“Sail?” I asked, my head so filled with treachery and worry that I’d not thought of how we would travel to the Black Sands. Perhaps on a horse, which, thinking on things with a clearer eye now, seemed asinine. No matter what, at some point we wouldneed to be on the water. Something that I was unfamiliar with other than watching the royal family frog about in a favored pond. “Yes, of course. Sail. Forgive me for interrupting, Your Majesty. My mind is scattered to the winds this morn.”
“As is mine, my friend,” Aelir replied with candor. “We will send you out this eve after we see off a bogus ship, one that sails under the banner of Melowynn.” Teryn nodded throughout as I tried to swallow down then align this plan in my head. “Allowing you two to sail with little attention back to the Black Sands. Teryn, you know the Isles well. Could your ship sneak into the Black Fen pillars unseen?”
“Of that I have no worries, Your Majesty. I have one of the most skilled wind whisperers in my captain. Porgo can summon up a blinding fog or a gyre to cover us as we sail closer to the pillars. From there, we would be on our own, but surely the two of us can scale a sheer incline and enter a temple filled with zealots to rescue the princess and prince. Youarethe bronze warrior after all, and I can spin a spell or two when talking fails.”
All eyes moved to me. “Yes, surely, of course. As you bid, Your Majesty.” I placed a fist to my chest, trying to ignore the thumping of my heart, and lowered my head. Seaward ho, it seemed. So much rested on this plot. The lives of the prince and princess. We could not fail.
“Then, our plan is set. You two should go pack and rest for the journey,” Le’ral said, rising with grace from his seat. “I shall speak to the couriers and set them into motion. Teryn, the crown thanks you for your honesty, compassion, and understanding in this most terrible time.”
“Yes, thank you, Ambassador. My manners have wilted,” Aelir said, pushing to his feet as Teryn did. The three of them shook hands, clasping forearms as brothers in arms might, a sign that at least here in the solar, men of differing lands and religions could come together.
“I shall do whatever I can to bring your son and daughter home to you, King Aelir,” Teryn promised.
“I trust that you two will reunite us with our twins soon. Now I wish to have a moment alone,” Aelir said, and the solar emptied out. Rolim grabbed my arm just outside the doors. Teryn strode down the hall, stopping when he realized I did not have his back. Amber eyes flicked between my cousin and me.
“I shall sit and pray here in this alcove,” he said, moving to a small window seat and then lowering to his knees. I threw the two guards posted here a look that sent them down the hall to look out the window idly as Le’ral made his way off into the depths of the castle, his stride sure.
“Pasil,” Rolim spat in a heated whisper. “What has come over you to bed a man of such stature? Has the suffering of my mother at the hands of men of nobility not taught you to avoid those who have power over us?”
I folded my arms, instantly taking umbrage at his tone before recalling that the man was right. His mother had been seduced by the rich elf she had worked for, which resulted in her being fired when the man’s wife found out he had impregnated the cleaning woman. Alone and with a babe, she came to her sister, my mother, and the two of them struggled day in and day out to provide for their sons.
“I am not my aunt, and he is not—”
“Pasil, he is a dignitary and you a guard. His people are possibly involved in the kidnapping of the king’s heirs. And his skin is—”
“His skin is the same as ours, only a few shades darker.” Rolim huffed. “My cousin, I appreciate your concern. Rest easy. It was one night.” He scoffed. “Think what you will, but it was a single moment. The mahouk and I have slaked that thirst. We are on a mission of great import. There will be no time for dalliances. Of this I vow.”
“I say all of this only to keep you safe. You are a brother to me. I do not wish to see you harmed in any way or lose your position for a moral infraction. Please keep that one night as the only night. There are plenty of dark-skinned male whores who would gladly suck your cock for a few copper.”
I clapped a hand to his shoulder. “Thank you for your concern. I love you as well. Now, I must go. There is much to do before we leave. Guard the king well in my absence.”
“I shall. And you take care.” We embraced, both clinging to the other for a long moment and then breaking apart.
I gave him a smile of sorts. We parted. Rolim taking up a stance outside the solar, and I joining Teryn. His prayers ended as I arrived.
“I wish to see my children before we leave,” he said, rising from his knees with fluidity.
“And I, my friend. Let us go to the Hall of the Sanguine.”
One corner of his mouth twitched upward as his golden eyes darted to my cousin behind me.
“As you wish, Guard Captain.” He faked a courtly bow.
The urge to roll my eyes at his foolery was strong. Imagine a mahouk bowing to a palace guard. Rolim’s eyes must be bulging. “Forgive me, I did not think…”
“Please do not ask for forgiveness for something that I find appealing.” He took off, me falling in slightly behind him, the subtle scent of sand sage tickling my nostrils as we made our way through the sullen halls. The staff were nowhere to be seen, but their sadness was palpable. News had spread through Avolire. There were few secrets in the castle.
Hopefully, our clandestine departure tonight would remain confidential. Those in the solar were to be trusted without question. How Teryn would explain our hasty exit to his children and staff had yet to be revealed, but he was a clever man. Perhaps too clever at times.
The corridors of Avolire were silent, our footfalls louder than normal on the cool white tiles as we hurried to the infirmary. Airy and open to the soft ocean wind, the Hall of the Sanguine’s walls were white stone with wide windows covered with sheer draperies to keep the insects and gulls from entering. Smoke from the healing herbs burning in thuribles that healers wafted back and forth over their patients hung thick in the air. The hall was vast, built many centuries ago to deal with the influx of wounded soldiers. Now, thankfully, the wars with the dwarves and yeti were over. Treaties of peace were signed and in place with those not possessed of pointed ears. We were still working on coming to terms with elves of differing skin tones. And the humans that inhabited our lands were so few that they were considered unworthy of wasting the vellum to scribble out an accord. They would never rise up, or so we were certain, although with the passage of time more and more humans were born, so their numbers were swelling. Perhaps someday we would need to reach out to them with a treaty of friendship. Right now, we were no threat to them, nor they to us. The largest menace to the humans were the diseases they always seemed to be plagued with and their propensity to harm each other. They had few laws and even fewer rules to govern lawful behaviors. Not to sound superior, for we elves were also known to lash out at each other for trivial reasons. Just look at the dislike thrown at our cousins of the woodlands and of the sands. No, sometimes, as much as we liked to think we were above the humans, we were not—not really—we just hid our toxic behaviors behind a veil of supremacy.
My attention waned as I strolled along a row of cots, most empty, to the last two beds. In one lay Nanny Vilde. The old sister of the Steppes looked her age as the morning sun warmed her pale cheeks. A healer clad in the white and blue of the Melowynn clerics rubbed a bit of balm on her arms.
“How fares the sister?” Teryn asked, pausing at her bedside as I made my way to the next cot. I could hear them discussing the nanny as I took a seat at the head of the pristinely made cot. Lying on a pillow, wrapped in small white robes, was my friend Tezen. Her wings lay limply out to her sides, frozen in mid-flight, her eyes wide, a snarl locked into place to show her pointed teeth. Her eyes seemed to be frozen in a stare. The healers had covered her with a soft cloth that acted as a blanket. Somehow they had massaged a pale pink lotion into her skin, coating her face and arms, as well as the rest of her, I imagined, even her wings.
The healer—an older male elf with a roundness to his form—spoke with Teryn behind me as I lifted Tezen’s small hand to let it rest on my finger.
