the Leathermines

Back to chapter 24

Followed from a marketing link?  Check out the start of the story in The Slave Warrior, Chapter 1

 

It had been days since the Princess had taken uniform and horses to start for Lieutenant DuMonde’s ship.

The entire Rosemond military had been put on alert.  They were looking for her Highness in a Midlands military uniform, short hair and one, possibly two horses.  A messenger on a fast horse was sent to Lieutenant Beau DuMonde’s ship, just in case she had headed to the port city.  She had enough of a head start that she might get to the ‘Twilights Gold’ a day before the messenger.  The Royal Guard at the estate was on alert because of the direct attack on his Majesty in his quarters, looking for anything that was out of place.

Two days out, one of the horses that was missing and presumed taken by Princess Laun was found.  It had fallen into a hidden ravine on the plateau and was dead.  It was in a direction that was almost directly North of the Royal Estate, not South towards the ship.  No indication that it had been saddled or that her Highness had ridden it at all.

Three days out, an attempt was foiled on Ifhyed.  The thrown dagger that took down the dark above fair woman hit her in the throat, her own dagger dropping as she gurgled through her fingers.  It was a common Rosemond dagger, one that could have been from any one in the Kingdom.  The person who threw the killing shot was never found, the dessert being as mysterious as it ever was before Ifhyed and Edgar had gone for a walk.

Four days passed and word from the Capitol City of Rosemond was that there were several women who were being detained because of their similarity to the Princess.  None of them had a cut flower on her breast.  They had all been in the Red Scarf enclave, exotics brought in from the Midlands for the pleasure of the Rosemond men.

Five days from her disappearance and several bodies were found in a little-used storage room.  They had been tortured before their throats had been slit.  There were three sword and crow blades in the room, wrapped in cloth as if for transport.  All of the bodies had the bruise-mark of the Peaches.  None of the Peaches admitted to doing it.

Seven days out, the second horse came walking back to the stable, the saddle and pack still on it’s back, sores on it’s hide.  The uniform was rolled up and in one of the packs.  It had never been worn.

“She must be here.”

The statement lay where it landed.  Lord Edgar, Royal Companion and Master Peach, sat on the edge of the low couch, his elbows digging into his own thighs as he held his head.  Jost, the Captain of the Royal Guards, shook his head, but it was not disbelief on his face.  Ifahyd sat in a chair, his body tense and positioned so that he would not touch any around him.  Peaches and officers and a few trusted servants and concubines were in the courtyard, available, but not privy to what the men were talking about.

They had gathered when the horse had been found in the stables.  The emptied Royal Estate had been having a string of odd occurrences, and now the men knew it had been Laun.  They didn’t know why, or how to get ahold of her.

Ifahyd motioned to the courtyard and said, “The note said she was doing it to protect us.  There are more of us than there are of her.  Shouldn’t we have been protecting her?”

Edgar had a small sneer of a smile before he looked up, his face dropping slightly as he looked at the red, worried eyes of his new Love.  “Five bodies that we know of since she disappeared into the Estate.  We don’t know how many others she might have taken, or scared off.”  He reached and Ifahyd took a moment before lightly touching the palm of Edgar’s hand with fingertips.  “Being invisible let her keep you alive.”

The Rosemond King’s head twitched away from looking at Edgar.  “Alive.  What kind of ruler am I to let her put herself in harm’s way for me?”

Before Edgar could respond, Jost said, “It is what we do every day, your Majesty.”

Ifahyd nodded and had a pained expression on his face as he said, “It is your job.  She...  I know she has done...  I promised her that she would be safe here and she has been my safety since arriving.”  He dropped his head and his hand, looking at the carpet.  “I love her and I had hoped-”  He looked up at Edgar and had a horrified expression on his face.

Edgar had a cold flash go through him.  The feelings he was developing for this older man could not compete with what he held for Laun.  The possessiveness that he knew he had for Laun would not work in any situation.  She made people try to help her, want to keep her.  She did not see what she did to people, at least she did not seem to.

The silence between the men hung for a while longer.  Edgar knew that they were just going around the same course, not gaining anything and not resolving anything.  He raised a hand, a sign bringing several of the Peaches in from the courtyard.  There was a set to his jaw and the look that went along with just one sign sent the Peaches out again.

“Edgar?”  Ifahyd looked up and could not fathom what his Love had just communicated in such a small gesture.

Edgar shook his head.  He opened his hand to the King and held it palm up to him.  There was another hesitant moment before Ifahyd put fingertips on the Midlands man’s palm.  “Something I had thought of when she left.  Seemed to have left.  I hope it will bring her out.”

The brooding quiet shifted, becoming heavy, not companionable.  Ifahyd grasped Edgar’s hand before leaning back into the chair again.  He watched the younger man but could not see below the worry that was over his face.  Not just him, but Edgar was the one the King was worried about himself. The patience of the man was not endless, and Edgar seemed to be wearing down.

The Captain of the Royal Guards stood, asking to be dismissed with a small bow.  Ifahyd nodded and looked through the repaired window into the courtyard.  It was as quiet out there as it was in his room, though the Peaches, as he found Laun’s people called themselves, were quietly talking, mostly with the others who had gathered.  Some small smiles passed between one of the men who followed Laun and one of Ifahyd’s favorite concubines.  Aster was beautiful and had been under the King more often than any other red scarf on the Estate since he had arrived a few years before.  It had been easy for Ifahyd to take the boy, both physically and emotionally.  There was something about him that made the King relax and be comfortable.

Ifahyd pulled his eyes off the lightly tanned young thing and back to the man still beside him.  Completely different, and yet, Ifahyd found that Edgar brought out something that he had not known he had missed.  The wicked humor of Ithian came to mind, making Ifahyd smile and look away from the Midlander.  The eyes of his Beloved were never to open again, the same regret of not naming him Prince Consort that had hovered in his heart since word of his death making the time he had been with his Cousin bitter sweet.

There was a shift in the people in the courtyard, the flapping of wings bringing Ifahyd’s attention from the past to the now.  To the child Ithian had sired, and given to Aunt Engrid to turn into an assassin.  Baza had one of the small kestrels he raised in his aviary on her wrist, a wrap of leather helping the small bird to hold on as it perched there on the metal cuff.  Baza was stroking the bird with her remaining fingers on her other hand, the bird having reacted to something going past.

Silar came into the room from the courtyard with a small wooden cage.  Several small grey birds with blue flashes were within, agitated and flapping as he presented them to Edgar.  The Lord Salam-Dir and Master Peach took the cage and grimaced before nodding at the dark man.

“Doves?”

Edgar shook his head slightly.  “Pigeons.  Nigel had seen that these three seemed to pine every time Laun left for more than a few days from the household.  One of them found it’s way to the Capitol City and to Laun once.  It had never been there before, but found her.”

There was a chuckle from the King.  “I have never heard of pigeons that homed to a person, not a place.”

Silar had not left and nodded, saying, “Only our Mistress...”

Edgar nodded and stood, holding the cage carefully.  “I should do this outside.”

The courtyard seemed to clear, the people waiting going to the edges, or into the surrounding rooms.  Edgar, kneeling on the sand covered tile, placed the wooden cage on a stone bench and waited for the birds to settle down before opening up the door.  There was a small flap from inside before one of the pigeons popped out and sat on the edge, looking around with it’s blue eye, bobbing it’s head and making soft sounds.

Baza had the tether of the kestrel in her hand, but had to go inside the building.  The hunting bird had not focused on anything but the cage and birds since it had passed by, the thought of possibly the only way to track and trace Laun being hunted themselves disquieting.

The other birds had to be brought out, their forms easily surrounded by Edgar’s hands as he put them on the top of the cage.  There was flapping, but the birds crowded each other as they perched on the wood slats, not seeming to want to fly.  Edgar moved back and watched with the rest of the people in the courtyard as the birds settled, preening themselves and each other.

There was then a small movement and a flurry of wings and noise as the three birds lifted themselves up into the cloudless blue sky.  They circled the courtyard and were gone from sight.

“We have people throughout the Estate.  If she is here, they will find her.”

It was anti-climatic as one of the birds came circling back, leading the others to sit on a small ledge under the roof over the edge of the courtyard.  Edgar’s head went down and there was a sob he did not catch.

“We will find her.”  Ifahyd stood next to the younger man and gently put a hand on his arm.  “We both want her safe in our arms, Love.”

Edgar nodded and turned, a slight hesitation before he wrapped himself around the monarch of Rosemond, the need to be comforted pushing the heat and embarrassment to the side right then.

There was a clearing of a throat.  The Captain of the Royal Guards for the Estate was back, the dresser Velma in front of him.  “Majesty, this woman says she has a message for you.”

The lost nail stepped forward, a genuflection and a bowed head before she looked into Ifahyd’s eyes.  “Mistress Peach wishes you to meet her at the new hole in the servant’s way.”

There was movement in the courtyard and the rooms beyond.  Edgar held tight to Ifahyd as the King looked up at him.  Ifahyd was confused, but nodded.  “We should go.  But where is it?”

Captain Jost bowed his head slightly.  “I think I know what hole she means.  It appeared the same day she left.”  His eyes were narrow, thinking that he might have just missed her in the servants ways of the Estate that day.

The King and his Love relaxed a little, stepping away from each other, but still holding hands.  The group that left with the Captain of the Guards in the lead was not small, but not everyone who had been in the courtyard was in the group.  And not everyone who left was with the King.  It took some time to weave through the corridors and courtyards, into places Ifahyd had never been.

Jost motioned to the hole in the plaster wall, Edgar shaking his head and grimacing at the repairs that needed to be done.  Laun was not there.  The guards and Peaches looked around, went into the hole and searched the close hidden ways.  A small casket was found, a grey ribbon with one of Laun’s gold peachpit charms on the end tied around it.

Edgar unlatched the casket and hesitated.  He did not know what would be in a message drop such as this, but they had been used for missions before.  He also hesitated because he was not sure if it was trapped.  Edgar pushed the lid up and found several pieces of pulp paper.

“A map.  She has had this thing about accurate maps since the coup.  If it is in here, it is accurate.”  Edgar looked at the notations and saw where she meant them to go.

The Captain took the map and looked at it. “I do not know these ways.  They do not look familiar.”

It was passed through hands to many there until Edgar had it in his hands again.  “It looks dark in there.  Lanterns?”

Supplies were easily found and a small group started through the mapped ways behind the walls.  Some of the Peaches thought they saw where there were other entrances marked on the map and went to see if they could go through from another way.  Guards and Peaches stayed by the hole, guarding and thinking of who Mistress Peach could have been following through such passages.

It was dusty and dirty and close in the mid-afternoon heat of the high plateau.  The building was built to be breezy and have good airflow to keep the inside cool.  Between the walls had not felt those breezes since they had been built.  Trying to go through unfamiliar passages while on a type of a hunt made the still, close air even warmer and stifling as the group went through.  Edgar saw a room off of several cross corridors that they were heading for drawn on the map.  He hoped that was where Laun was so he could...  Edgar was not sure what he wanted to do with her right then, but he wanted to do everything to her when he found her.

There seemed to be a solid wall that was in front of them.  The narrow passage did not end, but it turned and went further beyond the map that had been drawn.  Silar pushed through and started to lightly draw his fingers down what looked like a support beam.  Edgar moved and saw there was a flash of light from a seam along the beam.  Silar found the holding catch and pushed.

It was a small room that had been created from the different constructions through the years.  It was oddly shaped, a long area with an angled wall that was the passage they were coming from.  A few odd alcoves with curtains across them.  Light from above from an open part of the building, but not directly overhead.

Edgar was pushed into the room by those behind him.  He looked around and thought he saw movement from one of the alcoves.  “Laun?”

There was a cracked laugh that chilled most there.  “Lost your whore?”

There was quiet as the curtain was pushed back with a dry, old hand.  A figure who had been mourned by some at her passing stepped forward, another figure behind her holding the curtain for himself.  Lady Engrid stood before them, weak, but not dead.  Aster, covered in cobwebs and dirt from the inner ways stood behind her.

Another hidden door opened in another part of the odd room.  A man that only a few of the Peaches had seen before was in front of the people who had decided to try another way.  Bririn had unmistakable hate on his swarthy features, the click of a knife being slid from a holster loud in the crowding room.

Engrid turned and had a slight surprise on her face.  “You?  I hear you have claimed my title without completing the warrant, Bririn.  You are still not ready.”

There was a small, almost childlike voice from behind Edgar, saying, “Enny?  Aunt Enny?  How...?”

Lady Engrid laughed, the sound discordant and made hairs raise on the backs of necks.  “As if you had any concept of how the world worked, you pampered idiot.”  She wavered slightly and Aster held her elbow.

Ifahyd stepped from the seeming protection of Edgar and looked at his Great Aunt and his favorite Companion.  His voice was steadier, but the confusion was easy to hear as he said, “You have been planning...  You have...  We are...  Fili del burattino per essere tirati, Prozia.  Eh.”  His voice was stronger as he let his confusion out.  “What did you hope to gain from playing us like this?”

She smiled, not a nice smile.  “Revenge for your Father taking what should have been mine.”  She turned to Edgar and quickly looked at the people around him before looking searingly at him again.  “Where is the little whore, anyway?  If she hadn’t been thrown in front of my plans, I would have been Queen of the Midlands by now!”

Edgar was not given a chance to respond as Bririn stepped closer.  “Mistress, I claim your title, by right of Brotherhood laws and-”

“You dare?”  Her voice filled the room, quieting all there.  She swung to face the Blue Pretender and pointed at him.  “You ran to Silver when I could not teach you any more.  You do not complete your missions and you are not fit for the Guild.”  She reached into a pocket of her robe and a signet ring was in her thin fingers.  “You don’t have the nerve to be Blue.”  She threw the Duchess ring at him, one of the pearls cracking when it hit the hard-packed dirt floor.

Bririn knew it was the one that he had given back to Laun at their meeting.  He had held it often enough to know the form, wincing as the powder of pearl scattered in the dust of the hidden room.  He ignored it and set his jaw before saying, “You have been Blue for too long, Mistress.  You have lost what you-”

She cackled.  “I have lost nothing.”

There was the sound of more people coming through yet another hidden passageway to the hidden room.  Estate guards and Peaches blocked that way out, the form of Aster jumping slightly as he steadied Blue Master.  His eyes went to the King’s, a knowing smile on his dirt-smeared lips.

Ifayhd felt his world crumbling.  His Aunt was alive, and behind the assassination attempts that had driven Laun from him.  His favorite companion was at her side, had to have been given to him to...  The King could not think of that, but it went through his mind unbidden.  He had been here to get information and possibly to get close enough to kill Ifahyd.  Could have at any time they had...  His Midlands Rose had protected him, had led him to this confrontation.  He felt his legs want to slip out from under him and grabbed onto the tunic of his new Love, the arm of Edgar going around him to support him before his body failed.

It was not a strong voice that came out, but it was a decisive one.  “Take Engrid into custody.  And her spy.”

There was a scuffle in the small space, blood being spattered into the dust as Aster tried to push himself between Blue Master and the others, but it was only his nose that had been broken before a coil of silken rope was deftly wound around his hands and arms, Wanda sitting on him as Engrid was bodily carried into the dark underways of the Royal Estate.  Her voice was stronger than it should have been as she called out epithets and curses upon Ifahyd.

The King was unsteady, but led the way through the passage they had gone through, his step certain even in the gloom.  They found the hole in the plaster wall, the word of what they had found spreading quickly to those still waiting at the hole.

A hand was on Edgar’s arm, a need in the older man’s face obvious, but needing to be said.  “Lord Edgar, I...  May I accompany you back to your yurlodge?”

Edgar nodded.  He held the man with him as they walked and glanced back as he heard from one of the Peaches, “Where is Laun?”  A dark flash went through him as he could not answer that simple question.