6.0

Cai entered his lord's chambers shortly before dawn. The handsome, dark-haired seneschal wore a dark gray doublet over black leggings. Before dressing, he had sent Portia back to her mistress. He hoped Zyrdicia would leave his new toy in Castle Blackpool while she journeyed to Grogan.

Cai and the prince had known each other since boyhood. Cai's father had served as King Saris' seneschal for many decades. The old seneschal had died of unknown causes soon after the King fell into a coma. Dirk's choice of Cai to replace him had been a foregone conclusion.

Cai had been intimate with the complexities of the kingdom's finances and internal affairs as long as he could remember. The knight was a political creature, at home in the constant intrigue of the Crown's court, and next to Vector, he was one of the prince's closest advisors. Except for the years in which Dirk was away at the Royal School, they had spent a great deal of time together as boys and caused more than a small amount of havoc whenever Saris was away at war.

Prince Blackpool was already up and dressed, as was his habit at this early hour. He tended to be an early riser and preferred to take care of the kingdom's administrative business before other people in the castle stirred. The quiet pre-dawn hours allowed him to concentrate on such matters without any annoying diversions.

"Good morning, my liege," the seneschal greeted.

"Hi." The prince's eyes narrowed as he noticed the knight was grinning. "WHAT?!"

"I just returned from the stables to make sure everything was ready for your journey. It was apparent that you notified our lovely visitor that she is to go with you."

"What has she done now?"

"Nothing, really. She had her saddle sent down to the tack room last night."

Dirk frowned. "Her saddle? That's absurd. Does she think we wouldn't be able to provide one for her?"

"The grooms apparently asked the manservant who delivered it the same question. They were told--and I am quoting exactly what they relayed to me--" Cai coughed, trying to hide his laughter.

"Out with it!"

"She is very particular about the leather that she puts between her legs."

Dirk smirked. "Oh, surely she wasn't really so crass!" the prince said, knowing with perfect certainty that she was.

"You know that those grooms lack the brain matter to make up such a statement. Whether she said it to her manservant or not, I have no idea. Somebody said it to the grooms, though."

"Well, I suppose it is safe to assume then that she definitely won't be riding 'side' like a proper lady."

Cai shook his head, still laughing. "Portia told me that the world they come from women are. . . uninhibited. Behavior we consider shocking is apparently quite normal there."

Dirk sneered. "If by uninhibited, you mean brazen, then the evidence would seem to support the statement. Their world must be completely devoid of the civilizing influence of proper moral structure. Men in that world are permissive fools to permit such licentiousness to masquerade as normality."

"Agreed. Though, there is a single advantage to it." Cai's raised eyebrows made it clear that he was not referring to social ramifications.

"Oh, don't tell me you've grown attached to your plaything..." the prince jeered, derision dripping from his tone.

"Not so much attached to her as her talents. Frankly, it's a pleasant change. Coy noblewomen may make for good marriages, but their charms in bed tend to be rather limited and disappointing. House servants, on the other hand, do what they are told, but they tend to be hideously dull. We've talked about that before."

"You ultimately are the one responsible for hiring them. Perhaps I should put the blame for that at your door."

"Of course, my lord." Cai bowed. "I'll post a notice immediately. 'By order of the Crown, the Royal Seneschal is now obligated to bed every wench who seeks employment in the castle, to see if she is worthy.'"

"I don't issue orders to confirm a state of affairs which already exists."

"Untrue. I just hired a new chambermaid for you. I haven't touched her. She's even more attractive than the last one. She seems very eager to please. I only hope she proves to be more resilient than the other wench."

The prince smiled darkly. "Toward the end, I could send that pathetic creature into a fit of hysterical tears with a mere glance." Immediately after his recent estrangement with Bethel began, he discovered that psychologically tormenting the infatuated servant girl was a pleasant distraction. Not that it lasted long.

"She hanged herself from a rafter in the servant's quarters," Cai remembered, grinning. "Since it was suicide, we weren't even obligated to assist her family with customary funeral expenses. The new one will be trained while you are away. She should be in place by the time you return."

"My vassal, if you took your duties in the financial arena as seriously as you do those in the domestic arena, Karteia's wealth would be unsurpassed. Speaking of which, where are the tax reports you promised would be ready today?"

The mirth on Cai's face dissipated. "I finished them last night. The scribes are finishing a travel copy for you to take with you. It will be ready by the time you leave. I also prepared the documents regarding the proposed tax increase, and revenue projections."

"And?"

"The picture is less than gratifying. There are documents for you to sign and send back to me authorizing a transfer of a few kolnas out of the veteran's pension fund to meet the next payroll for the troops. The annexation of Tronin is propitious. The addition of the young king's treasury funds will more than make up for the anticipated shortfall in the long term."

"What do you know of the Tronin treasury?"

Cai smiled confidently. "Also in the papers I've prepared for you is a detailed summary of our spies' most recent reports of the outgoing monarch's finances, as well as the economic productivity figures for his lands. I took the figures for the three most recent years, adjusted them downward temporarily to account for looting and plunder, and developed a projection for the region's expected economic contribution to the North."

"Such efficiency. Why wasn't I immediately notified to speak with those messengers when the spy reports came in?"

"You have been rather pre-occupied, my lord. The first report came in two nights ago, very late. You were behind closed doors. I heard Zyrdicia's laughter, and wouldn't have dared interrupt. The second messenger came in early yesterday evening. Again, my understanding was you were having a private conversation in the South Tower." Cai was clever enough to be properly deferential in his tone. "They were simply delivering documents. I wouldn't bother you with such banal dealings when you are engaged with more important affairs."

"Careful as always, Cai. A wise decision."

Cai bowed again. He was very good at his job. The harder part of his work was convincing his lord to focus on internal affairs when conquest called. "I only hope Zyrdicia gives you enough time to actually read the documents I prepared. If you have a choice between reading financial reports and waging a war while enjoying the attention of the most beautiful woman in the history of Aparans, we both know that you will never look at them. Shall I engage Portia to keep her mistress busy so that you can find time to review the papers?"

"If you do, you'll soon become the dungeon's highest ranking resident."

"On that note, I think I'll go see how the scribes are progressing. By your leave, my lord."

"Bye."

6.1

Zyrdicia sauntered out into Castle Blackpool's outer courtyard just as the skies were graying. The prince stood with a group of a half dozen of his knights and an escort of torture troopers discussing the route. The discussion stopped when she walked out and all eyes moved to her.

She was dressed in tight-fitting leather, much as she had been when she delivered the net of bodies to the prince's throne room not so long ago. She also wore an impossibly thin, delicate looking coat of thigh-length mail over the leather. The intricate mail rings were so thin and so widely placed as to make the garment look more like a construction of silver filigree. The coat fastened in front, though she had yet to secure the latches.

Charles had spent most of the night tightly braiding all of her hair into two score tiny braids. He insisted it would keep stray locks from flying about, and keep it out of her face when she fought. This morning he gathered all of the braids on top of her head, securing them in the serpent clasp. The braids flowing out of the clasp behind her head looked very much like a flogging instrument.

She carried her spiked gauntlets in her hands and pulled them on as she walked across the space. She casually summoned both sword and dagger out of the ether, mainly because she had an audience and knew it made for a good show.

"Zyrdicia, good morning. Nice of you to join us," the prince greeted coldly.

"I hope I haven't kept you waiting. You did say dawn. It's dawn."

"You are punctual--barely. It's my seneschal I'm waiting for now," he observed irritably.

One of the grooms brought Zyrdicia the reins to the large, black gelding they had selected for her. They had followed Anthony's directions well. She checked the saddle carefully. The saddle contained a built-in scabbard specially designed for her weapons, and she housed them in it rather than sending them back into their magical extra-dimensional space. She opened a small, hidden compartment in the side of the saddle and inserted a tiny, black pouch.

"Is that all you are bringing? If you have bags we can send them separately."

She turned around to find the prince standing right behind her, watching her closely. "I can fit an entire house in a space the size of that pouch." The statement was no exaggeration--there was, indeed, an enchanted dwelling within the pouch.

"Why did you put your weapons in your saddle instead of keeping them on your person?" he asked curiously.

"The saddle is simply convenient. It serves the same purpose as the magical space I normally use--to keep them close at hand but off of my body. Wearing them on me slows me down and impedes agility when I'm not using them. My lines are sleek and perfect. I don't care for the look or feeling of metal appendages hanging from my torso or hips."

"Your vanity will someday be the death of you."

"Not likely." She smiled, "And if it is, then at least I'll make a beautiful corpse."

A clearing of the throat to their left stopped the conversation. Cai stood holding a leather document sheaf. "My apologies"

Dirk glared at him and snatched the item from his seneschal's hand.

"Your Highness, if you get to nothing else, please at least have a messenger deliver the document regarding the . . . transfer. I cannot execute the matter without your signature."

Zyrdicia sensed a tension between them regarding the subject. She was certain it had to do with money. Acquisitive creature that she was, she could smell financial transactions at a great distance. She confirmed that suspicion by secretly exploring Cai's thoughts.

"Cai," the prince responded, "The order may not be the only thing we execute if you don't learn to hold your tongue. You'll have the document after I have reviewed it thoroughly. You are dismissed."

He turned back to Zyrdicia. "Are you leaving your staff here?"

"Actually, they are all in Lyr at the moment. Portia will join me when we get there. She's handling a few affairs for me. Zyr's 'errand' came at a rather inconvenient time."

"How unfortunate for you. Let's go." He offered her a hand while she mounted. She made a point of ignoring it. While he went to his own horse, she fastened two of the latches in front of her mail coat, and checked to see her weapons were properly secure. He brought his mount next to her. "I assume you can handle that horse. We'll be riding hard and fast."

"That's the only way I know how to ride, dear prince," she laughed. "I'm used to dragons, griffins, and astral hell horses. Conventional steeds are normally too slow--and too low on the food chain-- for my taste."

He gave the order to move out. After they all crossed the drawbridge, she noticed the riding order was carefully planned. He rode next to her, in the middle of the party. They were flanked on either side by his knights. "Keeping me out of trouble?" she called to him, laughing again.

"Naturally."

As they moved across the Plains of Death, she settled into a quiet boredom. The thundering hoof beats made conversation impossible and the unchanging landscape was uninspiring. As the first few hours passed, she telepathically explored the minds of each of the men she could see, except for the prince. There was little of interest in their brains.

She remembered how much she loathed horses after all the years with the dragon. The smell was vile. The pace was agonizingly slow. It was like riding a well-muscled cow.

She checked on Portia's progress telepathically, only to be told the servant was in the middle of work. "Contact me later," Portia pleaded.

"I'm so fucking bored," Zyrdicia whined.

Portia answered, "Go pester Prince Charming then. I know you need to be constantly entertained, but I really can't concentrate on this with you in my head. We may have a small problem."

"How small?"

"About three feet tall with a long, white beard," Portia answered.

"Damn. It was only a matter of time. Keep me posted. And when you are done there, I want you to go see Detlev."

Portia resisted, "You know I find those catacombs spooky as hell. And Detlev is a creep."

Zyrdicia tried to reassure her, "The dark elves know you work for me. They won't mess with you."

Portia pleaded, "Can't it wait 'til you get back?"

"No! Go ask him to have someone look through the dark elves' historical records. I want to know if they had any contact with brethren in Aparans before the Cataclysm--or if they even knew Aparans existed."

"You are talking almost two thousand years. Do you really expect to find anything?"

"Two millennia isn't long by their reckoning. See what they know."

"OK, I'll take care of it. But right now I'm trying to deal with the issue in Tiny Town. I really can't concentrate. Please?"

Zyrdicia severed the connection and sighed in annoyance. It was about gnomes. The matter had been brewing for weeks and was bound to explode sometime. She found it outrageous that it had to happen when she was out of town on one of Zyr's pointless missions. She glared spitefully Blackpool. If he noticed, he ignored her. Portia's suggestion gave her an idea. The prince was a latent telepath. What a marvelous opportunity to irritate him and cause trouble at the same time, she thought.

"I'm terribly bored." She sent the casual remark into his mind gently. He looked surprised and unnerved. She sensed him trying to keep her at bay. He was worried that she was going to delve into his mind again.

"Calm down. I'm not going to assault your mental defenses. You would feel it if I did. I'm merely in search of amusement to break up an otherwise dull journey." She still sensed an emotion in him very close to panic in him. He was receiving but had yet to figure out how to project thoughts. His mental muteness made her laugh.

"As I see it I have two choices. I can either teach you how to use the telepathy you already have, or I can hold a monologue in your head all the way to Grogan."

He glared at her viciously. The latter choice obviously did not sit well with him. He mouthed the words, "You would die before we arrived! STOP NOW!"

"Don't be nasty. You should be grateful. If it weren't for me, you would never know you had the ability. The fact that you can hear me without magic makes you one of a very elite group."< His glare remained venomous.

"Your Wizard and Witch both know you have it and prefer to keep you ignorant of it. It prevents them from reading your mind. Vector told me it runs in your family. Those two find it more convenient to keep you dependent upon their powers than to show you how to access your own."

He looked straight ahead. His face was an unreadable mask. He was processing her words.

"Fortunately for you, I don't have a stake in the little power games they play with you. I'm selfish enough to only be interested in finding a way to stave off boredom right now." She followed the last sentence by sending a compact mental package which planted the method of thought projection on the surface of his mind. He looked confused for a moment as he explored the foreign concept suddenly in his head.

She waited a few minutes then prodded, "Try it."

"STAY OUT OF MY MIND!"

She smiled as she received the angry thought. "Very good! And I'm not in your mind, Prince Grumpy. Just as you weren't in mine when you projected that thought. It's a non-invasive process."

"It isn't enough for you that I tolerate your annoying chatter in my ears, now I have it in my head as well."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. The fact remains, without me, you would have never figured it out. If you learn to develop it, it will help you use the monocle more effectively."

"The monocle?" Now she had his attention.

"Yes, ambitious prince, the monocle! Focussing magical energy with an object like that is a use of telepathic power. The mind has to be trained just as the body does. If you develop what's already in your head, you'll get better at using the monocle."

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked suspiciously.

She shrugged. "Pick a reason. Boredom right now. Vector's plea that I not tell you. The delight I get out of causing trouble. Reciprocation for a wonderful foot rub last night. Choose whichever you prefer."

"If causing you pain is all that is required to gain complete access to the monocle's abilities, my dear, I'm eager to get started."

She laughed. "And you accused me of flirting?"

He was silent for a while. When he did finally respond, he changed the subject. "Why did you say it was an inconvenient time for you to be here?"

"As difficult as it may be for you to imagine, I actually have a life of my own, beyond being sent off on errands to help power-hungry princes take over little provinces. I have a lot going on in some of my business ventures right now."

"What sort of business ventures?"

"I have interests in more endeavors than I can easily keep track of. Most of the commerce in Lyr is linked to organizations in which I have a stake. Commodities, real estate, slaves, weapons, mercenaries, murder for hire, even spiritual salvation. I haven't yet figured out a way to get the citizens to pay me for the air they breathe, but I'm working on it."

He shook his head. "Such an avaricious creature! How does the king of the city feel about such activities?"

"There is no king. The royal family was publicly disemboweled by an angry mob for collaborating with the Crusaders. There is only a puppet mayor elected by the Governing Council."

"Who comprises the council?"

"The nine most powerful people in the city. Between us, we control every vital economic, magical and military interest in the region. The mayor is an administrative tool to maintain the status quo while we pursue our personal agendas."

"It sounds like anarchy."

She shook her head emphatically. "It was simply the political reality that emerged after the revolution. It works--the strong rule the weak, power is in the hands of those who deserve it, and the city flourishes. It's quintessentially Lyrian."

"You've lived your entire life there?"

She looked like she wasn't sure how to answer. "Sort of. I travel a lot, often for months or even years at a time. Lyr is home, though. It's still my base of operations, my headquarters. There's a ruthless spirit to the city that I've found nowhere else. Do you always stay in Aparans?"

"Of course. My kingdom is here."

"You never get the urge to go out and explore the world beyond this little continent, to not have royal responsibilities and worries of pigs and peasants?"

"You mean, the urge to not have devastating armies at my command, to not rule a growing empire, to cease crushing my southern foes? Never."

"Year after year, always the same damned thing--forever 'til the end of your days in a place where you hate almost everyone and most of the people around you are trying to kill you? How awful!"

"You make it sound much worse than it is. Rulership is in my blood. It is what I was bred for. What were you bred for? Your father must have had something specific in mind to go to the trouble of creating you."

She looked away. He thought he saw a shadow creep into her eyes. "The only purpose I serve is myself. Whatever purpose Zyr once had is lost in a maze of deception. Zyr is trapped in Tenaebra. We have a simple agreement. I help him with rare errands--like coming here --in return for access to certain magical toys. The rest of the time he leaves me the fuck alone."

She could tell when she looked at him that he fully intended to pursue the subject further. Fortunately, the party had reached come to a river which required fording. The ford had been designated as a resting place so that the horses could be watered. When the party stopped, she dismounted and stretched contentedly.

"You caught on to the mind speech quickly," she said, switching back into normal, audible conversation. "At least you aren't fighting it now. Someday someone may teach you the way to filter out unwanted projections to avoid being dragged unwillingly into conversations. Then it will be the end of my fun."

"So it is possible to filter you out?" He seemed elated at the idea. "I insist that you share that secret at once!"

"Never!" she laughed.

"I suppose I could threaten to torture it out of you, but I don't think the method would be very effective with you." He paused and cast her a sidelong glance. "Or would it?"

"Hard to say. Unfulfilled threats are meaningless." Looking up, she noticed a pair of birds of prey circling overhead. She watched them for a moment. They were hunting. "What species of bird is that?" she asked. "The colorings are different than anything I've seen."

He followed her eyes to the sky and smiled. "Ah, what a wonderful treat! Those would be Vector's lightning hawks. At least we know what will be on the menu at the Citadel when we arrive. I look forward to it already!" He pulled his crossbow off its place on his saddle.

"Lightning?"

"Yes, they shoot bolts of lightning from their tail feathers," he explained impatiently as he loaded a quarrel into the bow's spring mechanism with a steel cocking lever. "They sense the monocle's presence and won't attack." She started to say something.

He cut her off, "Shh!" He sighted one of the birds with the crossbow and shot it out of the sky.

The prince glared at one of the torture troopers standing nearby and snarled, "Don't just stand there, you fool!"

The man hurried off to bag the bird while his lord reloaded the bow. A moment later the second bird fell from the sky. A second soldier scampered off after it without waiting to be told to do so.

When the men returned with the game, Dirk ordered, "Get to the Citadel as fast as your horses will carry you. Do not stop. Do not tarry. I want those birds roasted and ready to be served upon my arrival. If they are not ready, I will have you roasted instead. Do I make myself clear?"

The men stood at attention. "Yes, sir! By your leave!"

"GO!" When Dirk turned around, he realized Zyrdicia was no longer standing next to him. While he had been concentrating on the birds, she wandered away to talk to some of his men. He watched her speak to the knights and immediately develop a friendly, casual rapport. She seemed to intuitively sense the mannerisms and pleasantries which would put each of them completely at ease. As she chatted with them about nothing in particular, the prince observed each man's formal demeanor dissolve into a barrage of smiles and admiring glances. Their lack of self-discipline infuriated him.

"What are you doing?" He projected the angry question telepathically without hesitation.

"Being my usual charming, sociable self."

"If that were true, you would be irritating them mercilessly."

"No, I save that exclusively for you."

She excused herself from the conversation and turned to walk back to him. His glare wilted the men who had been speaking to her. She looked as though she was on the verge of another annoying fit of laughter.

"You are jealous," she observed quietly.

"Don't be ridiculous," he sneered.

"My guess is as soon as I'm out of earshot, you'll yell at them and order them not to dare speak to me in the future, as you did with Donovain. By the way, the fact that you just initiated a telepathic connection without help from me is admirable."

She felt a sudden urge to yawn. The mid-day sun's brightness already bothered her. The party crossed the river and forged ahead. As the sun climbed in the sky, she squinted and finally gave into the temptation to yawn.

"Tired already?"

She looked surprised at his question. "Great. Now you won't shut up. There is no 'already'. It's way past my bedtime."

"You ignored my advice to rest last night, I presume."

"I'm a night creature. The sun bothers me more than the lack of sleep. Since these are your lands, can't you turn it off? Or does the sun fail to tremble before the conquering monarch?"

"I take comfort in the fact that it makes you unhappy. Had I the power, I would make it brighter still."

She looked up at the sky. He saw her lips move. Seconds later, thick, dark clouds rolled in. She seemed pleased. "Much better."

"If we have to ride in foul weather because of your magic, I promise that you'll sleep out in the rain when we arrive."

"Don't piss me off or we'll ride in a hurricane." A roll of distant thunder punctuated her warning.

"It's only about another hour."