The Beggar Prince, page 19
part #1 of Unbroken Bond Series
“I…think I know,” Eldred muttered. “Mother told me a tale about your father some time ago. It was one of her annoying tales to show me how poor your company is, Thalas.”
“Oh, one of those is it?” Neremi asked, grinning. “Both my parents tell me those regularly, about all of you.”
“I can imagine,” Eldred replied, smiling. “But anyway, she said about a year or so after she became archmage, your father tried to convince the Matriarch to sanction research into the forging of void spheres, claiming he knew a much faster and less time-consuming way to forge them. The Matriarch didn't believe a word of it, and rejected his requests. He defied her though, and went ahead with his research. Some lives were lost, quite a few actually, and he very nearly got stripped of his archmage status over it.”
“So…he failed?” Neremi asked.
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Eldred nodded. “He did forge one, but it was very unstable, and when it collapsed, the energy released from it was what killed all those mages.”
“And you want us to use that?” Thane demanded, glaring at Thalas.
“My father is nothing if not tenacious,” Thalas replied. “He wouldn't have given up so easily. He would've been working on it since.”
“That sly bastard,” Neremi muttered.
“He is, yes. But more importantly, he would've perfected it by now.”
“Do you know where it is?” Thane asked.
“Not yet, but I will.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Thane, I'm sure.”
“So, we do that, then,” Neremi said. “We find her, Thalas uses his father's void sphere on her, and we take the sphere and leave.”
“That's if Thalas finds the damn thing.”
“He'll come through, Thane.”
“And the blasted thing doesn't kill us all.”
“It'll be fine.”
“If you say so.”
Through it all, Thalas glowered at the elf.
“I'll head over to the Priory,” Thalas said after a brief spell. “Each of you head over to the other hospices. Do you know who we're looking for?”
Some nodded, others shook their heads.
“I'll send you all an image of her. Let the rest know if you see her. Remember, we are to follow her, that's all. Alright?”
One by one, the others nodded.
“Good.”
“Shall we use viewing stones or seeking stones?”
“Seekings stones, Durlin,” Neremi said. “Last time we took our viewing stones out on a hunt, Fallon lost…his.”
“Get going, all of you,” Thalas said. One by one, his friends faded from view. And when the last left, Thalas touched his viewing stone once more, and its blue hue soon faded. Closing the box, he slid it back under his bed. But as he looked at the door, his mood soured greatly. Gritting his teeth, he pulled out the dagger he'd stolen from his father's reading room. Staring at it, he found himself feeling more and more convinced stealing it was a good idea. Thane's behaviour was getting worse, and the sooner he dealt with Thane the better for him.
“Pity,” Thalas muttered. “we used to be such good friends.” Rising, he attached the dagger to his belt, and pulling his tunic over it, headed for the door.
Flight of Despair
Glowering furiously at the battle-mage rifling through her bag, Maline stood silent as the cold air sent a shiver down her spine.
“We will be done soon,” the ranger beside her whispered, the fairy on his shoulder staring at Maline as his wings fluttered lazily behind him. But Maline refused to reply.
“We do not enjoy this any more than you do,” he continued, “but we have a duty to perform.”
As Maline turned to glare at him, the weak light caught the unsightly bruise on her right cheek.
“Duty?” she hissed. “Your friend kicked me in the face!”
Guiltily, the ranger looked at their commander, who stared brooding, his hands on the hilts of the blades on either side of him.
“There's nothing here,” the battle-mage said at last. Maline stared at the commander, a smug smile upon her lips, but the commander met her mocking smile with a cold stare before turning his gaze to his mage companion.
“Are you sure?”
“Everything here is worthless garbage,” the battle-mage replied with biting bluntness. “Nothing here belongs to our quarry.”
Maline turned a darkened gaze upon him, but bit back her words.
“You done, then?” she asked instead. The commander sneered at her for a spell before turning his gaze to the others.
“Come, we must meet up with the others, perhaps they've had better luck.”
Angry still, Maline watched the mage and the commander depart, but as the ranger turned to leave, he pressed something soft and damp into her hand before he too departed. None met her gaze as they left, an act that merely served to stoke her rage. Gritting her teeth, she at last stared down at that which lay in her hand. It was damp, soft and green. Moss. Healing moss perhaps? As she stared at it, the bruise on her face began to throb most painfully. Staring at it for a moment longer, she pressed it against her cheek, and almost at once, a smile broke across her lips as a grateful sigh escaped from them.
“Thank you, ranger,” she whispered as she knelt and went about placing her meagre belongings back in her bag with her free hand before preparing for bed.
“Hello, Maline.”
With a startled cry, the terrified elf sprang to her feet, darting back into the wall behind her. But as she did so, she let go of the healing moss, and could only watch as it fell into a heap.
“Sorry, sorry!” Marshalla exclaimed as she swam into view before Maline, bending down to pick up the fallen moss. “Didn't mean to scare you.”
“Don't do that!” Maline exclaimed as she grabbed the moss from Marshalla's outstretched hand.
“Sorry,” Marshalla repeated, grimacing as Tip and Davian swam into view near her. As Maline's gaze fell on the others, Marshalla placed what's left of her friend's strewn belongings into Maline's bag, and as Maline finally touched the moss to her bruise, Marshalla rose, handing her the bag.
“Thank you,” Maline said. Marshalla smiled in response.
“Sorry about what they did to you,” Tip mumbled.
Maline frowned. “You saw?”
Davian nodded. “Just turned into the alleyway when the commander kicked you in the face. Marsha thought best to hide till they left.”
Frowning still, Maline kept the moss against her bruise, but at last, she shook her head, her worry plain in her gaze.
“Marsha, what you do?” she demanded. “Army's looking for you! Tower too! They say you killed someone!”
Marshalla looked over at Tip, but kept her peace.
“Tell me you didn't. You tell me right now, tell me you didn't! Look at me!”
Mutely, Marshalla obliged.
“Tell me that's not you.”
“Didn't kill nobody,” Marshalla replied softly.
“Then why they looking for you? And why they keep calling you Kin-Slayer?”
“She didn't do it, Maline,” Tip replied in much the same manner, “it was me.”
Stunned, Maline turned to stare at Tip. “You?”
Tip nodded as his face fell. “Took something, and it killed someone.”
“But…” replied Maline, her confusion apparent. “…they kept calling this Kin-Slayer a she.”
Again, Tip nodded. “She's inside me, and when she took over, she…killed someone.”
“Oh dear gods…” Maline whispered.
“But Tip's ok though,” Marshalla replied quickly. “It's just a spirit that sort of–”
“Essence,” Tip mumbled.
“Yeah, essence. She's not hurting Tip, she just lives in him now.”
Maline looked from Marshalla to Tip before her face finally fell as her heart broke for the little elf
“Oh, Tip,” she sighed.
“They were going to hurt us though! They hurt Marsha, and she made them stop! She made them all stop.”
Maline stared at Tip as he started back at her with stubborn defiance. Sinking to her knees, her eyes on Tip, Maline reached out for him with her free hand and pulled him closer to her.
“She inside you still?”
Tip nodded, his gaze to the ground.
“But she had no choice, right?”
Again, Tip nodded. It was then Maline noticed the tears in his eyes. Gritting her teeth, she pulled him closer and hugged him as tenderly as she could.
“We were hoping you could help us get out of Merethia,” Davian said after a brief moment's silence. Maline looked at him.
“You going with them?” she asked. Davian nodded in response, but Maline shook her head at him as a worried frown twisted her lips.
“No, your father's tearing up the city looking for you.”
“If he goes home he'll get in trouble,” Tip said.
“What kind of trouble?”
“I'm not going back,” Davian said firmly. Maline stared at him, her frown deepening.
“Will you help us?”
Staring at him for a moment longer, Maline finally nodded, rising as she did so. “Will try at least. What you need?”
Marshalla moved to speak, but her voice failed her. She looked at Tip, who nudged her.
“How's Mardaley?” she asked Maline at last. Maline smiled sadly.
“Losing his mind.”
“Oh?”
Maline nodded. “Everytime the doorbell chimes, he looks up, then he looks sad that it's not one of you.”
“Told you he'd miss us,” Tip said with a smug smile.
“Can you get him to meet us?” Marshalla asked, ignoring Tip completely.
Maline looked from her to Tip before looking back at her. “Not sure that's a good thing.”
“Why?”
“They watching Mardaley, army and Tower. Watching the store and his house.”
All three faces fell at this, but Maline smiled at them.
“But he's smart, maybe he can trick them, sneak away. If not, will come see you myself, bring what he gives me to give you.”
Marshalla smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Maline.”
Maline shook her head in response. “We look out for each other, always have, always will. Got somewhere safe to stay tonight?”
Marshalla nodded.
“Good. Stay away from the others though, ok?”
“Why?” Marshalla asked, frowning.
“Tower's offering coin for you and Tip, lots. Stay away from them all, hear?”
Tip and Marshalla exchanged worried glances
“We will,” Marshalla replied at last. “Meet us tomorrow, at the place where you and me first met?”
Maline nodded at this. “This time?”
Marshalla nodded in turn.
“Ok. Stay safe till then, hear?”
Grinning, Marshalla nodded once more. Sighing, Maline hugged her dear friend close before gently pushing her away.
“Now go, those bastards'll be back. Go before they do.”
Nodding, Marshalla stepped away from Maline, and as she did so, she and the others slowly faded from view.
“And stay safe, hear?” Maline whispered. With nothing else for it, she pulled out her blanket and began to bed down for the night.
Dawn found Maline awake and alert. Her slumber had been fitful, and her head throbbed. Sighing, she looked over at the rising sun. There was no point closing her eyes now, she may as well get up. Sighing once again, she rose and, putting her blanket back into her bag, began making her way over to Mardaley's.
As she walked, however, her mind turned to the the short tale Tip and Marshalla had told her the night before. Tip was possessed, there was no other word for it. That the spirit bore no ill-will for poor Tip did lessen the blow somewhat, but it was still such a heart-breaking thought. They were right to wish to leave though. With the bounty on their heads, Merethia was no longer safe for them, they had too few friends left.
It was not long before the welcome sight of Mardaley's store came to view, but as she neared it, she couldn't help but look across the street to the small contingent camped across. They were dressed like ordinary folk, but Mardaley saw right through their disguise the very first day they appeared. It made Maline sick just looking at them. Forcing her gaze forward, she headed over the the door. But she could feel their gaze upon her. Frowning deeply, she reached for the door, whispering the words of unbinding that Mardaley had taught her. As she touched the handle however, she realised the door was already open. Stopping, she looked over across the street, her anger building.
“Ah, Maline,” came a voice from within. Surprised, she turned to find Mardaley staring at her from the other side of the door.
“Open already?” she asked as she walked in. Mardaley smiled at her.
“I couldn't sleep, so I came in early. I see you couldn't sleep either.”
Maline shook her head.
“Well, now that you're here, you may as well help me with some stock-taking.”
“Why not?” Maline replied, grinning as she stowed away her bag. Grinning still, she followed Mardaley into the storage room. But as she entered behind him, she quickly closed the door behind her.
“Maline?” Mardaley asked as he stared frowning at her. Maline turned to face him. Her grin was gone, but there was a fire in her eyes, one that clearly put him on edge. Forcing a grin, Maline walked closer to him.
“Saw them last night,” she whispered.
“Saw who?” Mardaley asked in response, but as the words left his lips, his eyes lit up as he reached for her elbow.
“You saw them!” he whispered. Eagerly, Maline nodded.
“Where? When? How are they?”
Maline laughed. “They came to find me. They all well.”
But Maline's grin soon faded.
“What is it?” Mardaley asked, letting go of her elbow.
“This Kin-Slayer thing, it's in Tip.”
Mardaley took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he nodded. “I heard.”
“It's not hurting him,” Maline continued, “but don't like it one bit. Nothing good'll come of it.”
You're right on that point, my dear.”
“Yes,” Maline replied as she nodded, hugging herself for comfort.
“So, what did they say? And why are they still in Merethia?”
Maline shrugged. “They can't get out, they need help. It's what they said anyway.”
“Well, they won't now,” Mardaley replied, sighing as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “The gates are heavily guarded now, and the city walls are being patrolled near constantly.”
Maline's face fell. “So they're stuck here?”
Mardaley sighed once again as he reached for her once more, this time placing a comforting hand on her upper arm.
“We'll think of something,” he said. “Where are they now?”
Maline shrugged. “No idea. Know where they'll be tonight though.”
“Oh?”
Maline nodded. “Marsha asked me to bring you to them tonight.”
Mardaley frowned in response.
“Tricky,” he muttered as he crossed his arms about him before stroking his beard, deep in thought.
“Yes, won't be that easy with your new friends.”
“Quite,” Mardley replied distractedly. Turning, he began pacing the storage room. But as he paced, his eyes chanced upon an unopened box of arachne webbing.
“Maline…” he said as he turned to face her, a most mischievous smile upon his lips.
“What…?” Maline said cautiously as she cast a sideways glance at him.
“You're not afraid of spiders, are you?”
“Depends how big…”
Mardaley's smile grew. “Let's head back outside. Our dear friends will be beginning to wonder where we went.”
“Mardaley, what you planning?”
“You'll see,” Mardaley replied as he headed for the door.
“Mardaley…”
“You'll see.”
“You turning me into a spider?”
Mardaley turned to stare at her as he opened the door.
“You'll see,” he replied, smiling sweetly as he headed back to the store. Shaking her head, Maline followed, muttering several dark oaths under her breath as she did so.
It wasn't long before Maline forgot about Mardaley's ominous words. With the royal curfew still in effect, and no word when it would be lifted, much of Mardaley's customers seemed to decide all at once that the best thing would be to stock up on all their essentials while they could. At the same time.
So, when it finally came time to close shop, Maline couldn't be any more grateful. Yawning, she shuffled out of the door. To any who saw her, it was plain that this was a woman in dire need of sleep. Just as she was about to close the door, however, Maline turned and stared within.
“You sure you don't need me to stay?”
“No, no, I'll finish up here. You go and get some rest,” Mardaley's voice called back. Nodding, Maline closed the door and, throwing her customary glare at the contingent across the street, shuffled away.
“Are they staring at us or the store?” the spider perched in Maline's hair whispered. As casually as she could, Maline threw a glance over her shoulder at the contingent.
“The store.”
Mardaley chuckled. “I can't believe I didn't think of this sooner.”
Maline smiled, but it was brief. “How long you think it'll take them to know it's not you in there?”
“Oh it should be a good long while, I expect,” Mardaley replied. “Not that I'm boasting, mind.”
Maline smiled. “Of course not.”
“Good. Now, where are we going?”
“You'll see.”
“Hrm…quite.”
“And stop moving, please. Making my head itch.”
“Sorry, your hair's getting in my eyes.”
Close your eyes, then.”
“I would if spiders had eyelids.”
“Well…manage!”
Fighting back the urge to scratch her scalp, Maline made her way through the city to the agreed meeting place. Bowing her head low and clutching the straps of her bag, she trundled through the near-empty streets, her eyes to the ground before her. On a few occasions, she was accosted and indeed searched by a passing patrol, but not a single one of them became aware of Mardaley's presence.
