Governor Chenek walked across the open drawbridge, which spanned the now dried-up stream, and simply entered the building. Not one guard stood watch; not one servant greeted him or offered refreshment. Nothing greeted him other than eerie silence. Of course, that silence was soon broken by Aten, the gryphon who kindly spirited Chenek to the castle.
"Sir," said the gryphon, rattling his feathery wings, "I must return to Nemir. Princess Evore requires me for another part of our efforts to oust the Eldonians. Will you be safe here? I do not wish to leave you unprotected."
Chenek shook his gray-haired head, replying, "No, Aten. You and Evore must have read my mind. I knew Vlaric would send his minions to Rumil. Perhaps his army has already taken over the city. Early this morning, en route to here, I could see, from the air, our port cities bottled up by Vlaric's navy. Trains stopped at key border towns. I suppose many villages between Brightbridge and Rumil have gone up in flames. What is next? I know: Vlaric intends to arrest me, put me to a torturous, painful death while my people are forced to watch. It is his way, you know. Never will I forget what happened during that awful baby purge or, once King Vort, Vlaric's father, put down our last rebellion, the mass executions. So awful, unwatchable, unimaginable horrors..."
Governor Chenek silently wept from those bitter memories. When will it all end? If Prince Asen and Danielle don't come through, put an end to Vlaric's insane grab for power and control, all the careful, meticulous planning would be all for naught.
Aten said in a reassuring tone, "Things will go right this time, sir. We have better communications, more cooperation within the rebel ranks, the spies are more evenly spread out..."
"Yes, yes. I know that," said Chenek somewhat impatiently. "I also know Amarah's direct descendant is now among us. She should be here any time with Prince Asen. I know, Aten, I shouldn't sound so pessimistic, but I know Vlaric. He will stop at nothing to get the goods on the rebellion."
He sighed with relief, adding, "With all our counterspies snooping on his minions, all our forces scattered throughout the land, one would think Vlaric's hired flunkies would have found us out by now."
"But," said Aten, "he didn't. As far as Vlaric knows, the rebels have concentrated throughout Benut, not Chalou Province. Word is that the king believes the city of Tyq safe from rebel forces."
With that, Chenek allowed himself to laugh.
He said,"King Vlaric, while just a cruel and cold as his father, still does not possess his predecessor's cunning. I still insist Vlaric is not – as Danielle would put it – calling all the shots. Banes, if anyone, is the true power behind the throne. It's him we should really worry about. I suspect Banes is up to no good, and it wouldn't surprise me if he uses this current 'The Benutians kidnapped the prince' crisis to stir the people into a frenzy. Perhaps Banes will turn them against their king, call for Vlaric's head, thus instantly elevating himself to the throne. I cannot fathom the outcome for us if that ever happens."
Aten understood but replied, "Sir, that shall not come to fruition. For the first time in more than five centuries we shall be the victors. Now, I must go. The reinforcements are gathering at the shores of Chalou Province as we speak. Already Mitra's allies have crushed the entire Eldonian navy, and that fact King Vlaric has yet to learn."
Then, before spreading his wings to take flight, he added, "Sir, if I am correct, it is Banes and Jolende who will be Vlaric's undoing. Don't ask how I know. Call it a sixth sense, but I have this premonition the outcome is about to change for the worse, for Vlaric, for Banes, for all of Chalou Province. What Vlaric and Banes have plotted all these years will backfire on them, and their peoples will suffer tremendously. Not that I feel any pity for the Eldonians as they have brought the impending catastrophe upon themselves."
Chenek nodded, saying flatly, "By their own ignorance and refusal to see the truth, they have sown the seeds of their own destruction."
++++++
Aboard the Lemrac Express, in comfort of his private car, the Kororian governor Sadius became quite agitated and apprehensive. Nothing, not even a quiet game of patience or several draughts of his favorite pink raspberry wine could soothe him. Ever since leaving Tyq he kept thinking of his role in Banes and Jolende's plot to overthrow Vlaric.
"Where does that leave me?," Sadius muttered under his breath as he commenced another round of patience.
"Banes will have to give me a major office within his new kingdom. Perhaps governorship over the newly merged lands of Koror and Chalou. Perhaps as Royal Steward. Surely he won't keep on that Aughir fellow...Aughir! I nearly forgot..."
It suddenly hit Sadius that Jolende's plot to keep Vlaric's steward occupied via those two harlots she calls 'ladies-in-waiting' may not work after all. Isn't Aughir not given to relationships with women? Doesn't he prefer the company of members of his own sex? This was no secret to Sadius, and he never bothered to reveal this fact to his partners in crime.
"Well," Sadius said to himself with a smirk, "those little tarts are in for quite a shock when Aughir fails to fall for their charms. Hmm...Cyprelle and Venvula may be attractive and seductive, as is any Kororian woman, but one has yet to transform a homosexual man to heterosexual. Their cunning feminine wiles will be all for naught."
Sadius, now partially relaxed from so much wine and quiet card games, began to concentrate on his own future once Banes takes the throne. Yes, a nice governorship in the soon to be merged provinces. They will need an able man to oversee such a vast territory, and I am that able man.
Sadius smiled as he envisioned himself as a powerful governor, far more powerful than he is now. He visualized a newly built, well-appointed palace, hundreds of servants and staff to see to his every need, every luxury his lucrative salary could afford. Maybe, once things settle, Sadius could at last find a suitable woman. Oh, he had his many dalliances with his own native women, as it is the nature of the Kororian not to tie down oneself to one lover. Yet, there was one lady, a titled daughter of an Eldonian noble, part Kororian herself, who caught Sadius' eye. She often attended state dinners at the Royal Palace and would shamelessly flirt with the paunchy Sadius. Now, what is her name? As much as he tried to recall the lady's name, Sadius didn't fail to conjure her image. Oh, and what a thing of loveliness, vivaciousness, voluptuous femininity at its finest.
Undra...Yes, now I recall your name, and your face and body. Full ruby lips, fiery green eyes, a mass of glistening raven hair...A figure worthy of a goddess...Not the typical Eldonian noble lady but a fully blossomed woman of the Kororian order. Seductive, dangerous, oh-so pleasurable...
Hmm...Once Banes installs me as governor over the new Eldonia, I shall call on Lady Undra, perhaps persuade her to reclaim her Kororian heritage, and that is to become the siren she was born to be. I'd love that...A fiery lady to fulfill my darkest fantasies...Finally I shall actually have the opportunity to indulge my senses...my desires...
"Governor Sadius," said a guard as he entered the car. "Sir, we will arrive in Lemrac within the hour. Do you require anything?"
Sadius silently cursed this dimwitted soldier for spoiling his reverie. Sighing, he replied, "No, sergeant, I do not need a thing...On second thought..."
He handed the empty carafe to the soldier, saying, "I could use a refill. And bring some food. I suddenly find myself with an awful hunger..."
"Right away, sir," came the quick, obedient reply.
Sadius, not looking up from his card game, couldn't see the sergeant nod to the other guard. The Kororian governor could not see nor detect the two guards creeping up from behind. With a shrug, Sadius deftly flipped over a card. Ah, a red jack, just what he needed...
Sudden darkness as the train passed through a tunnel, just the right cover for an attack. In that darkened car, sounds of unsheathed swords followed by surprised words and endless stabs were drowned out by the relentless churning of the train's wheels. Then, once train emerged, the private car's lights miraculously re-ignited, exposing the blood-soaked table and chair. The cards were still on the table, in their classic red-on-black tableau. The empty carafe lay on the floor. Where was Sadius?
As the train sped toward the Etteyaf Bridge, two men dragged a heavy bag through dimly lit corridors. No one, not even the conductor encountered these men as they made their way to end of the next car. The moment the train reached the main span, over the river, the men, poised between the cars, hoisted the bag over their heads then soundly hurled it into the rushing waters below.
Copyright©2006 by P.R. Parker. All rights reserved.