“Sure,” Alexander said with a shrug.
“Good, follow me and I’ll show you around.”
Alexander spent the next hour becoming reacquainted with the workings of a stable. In many ways it was refreshing and familiar, reminding him of his childhood, but he kept his purpose firmly in mind, noting the layout of his new, and very temporary, home should it become important in the near future. Rollins ended the tour at the door to Alexander’s room.
“Ritter, this is your new bunkmate,” he said. Then he turned to Alexander and said, “Breakfast is at sunup. Don’t be late.”
Alexander nodded. “Got it. Thanks for the tour.”
“Well, close the door already,” Ritter said. “That’s your bunk, keep your mess on that side of the room.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Alexander said. “I don’t have much to make a mess with.”
Ritter’s colors were those of a man who’d lost everything except his bitterness-not evil, just broken and angry. Alexander could sympathize; the collar around his neck looked old and worn.
Ritter just grunted, glowering at Alexander for a moment before rolling toward the wall. “Turn out the lamp already.”
Alexander doused the light and lay down. In the darkness, he began to see the glimmer of light. Tiny points of magical color glowing in the dark, scattered haphazardly around the room, floating in the air as if suspended in time. He’d walked through several and had felt nothing. They were so dim that he hadn’t even seen them until the room was dark and then only barely. But they were there and they were magic.
Yet more questions.
It was nearing time to make his move. He’d been here for weeks, and while he hadn’t learned everything he wished to know, he’d discovered enough. He had two objectives: destroy the Crown and discover what lay in the depths beneath the city. He began thinking about a plan. Force wouldn’t do, at least not entirely. Stealth was his best option. Before he drifted off to sleep, his thoughts turned to Isabel. He was becoming more and more anxious to go to her, just to see her, but he knew that he had to wait until he was ready.
The next morning he and Ritter were assigned to retrieve a string of horses from the mine yard. Alexander tried to make conversation, but Ritter just ignored him. The morning was crisp, clear and calm. Alexander focused on his surroundings, soaking up all he could about the people. Most were just people, though more fearful and beaten down than Alexander had ever seen before.
Most of them shied away from overseers and nobles with practiced self-debasement, almost cowering, many with genuine fear. The powerful walked the streets as if they owned them and everyone nearby as well. Alexander followed Ritter’s lead, imitating him at every encounter with those who thought they were better than a lowly slave.
They arrived to find several slave wagons, all empty but still hitched to teams of horses.
“I wonder why they brought in a load of slaves,” Alexander said.
“Why’s that important to you?” Ritter said, eyeing him closely.
“Just seems odd since they closed the mine.”
“Stop wondering and get to work.”
As they guided their string of horses down the road on the way back to Grant Manor, a crier ran past them, taking his post on the street corner.
“The Crown Princess has been murdered!” he called out, catching his breath and shouting it again.
“That ought to stir things up,” Ritter muttered to himself.
They passed a crier on every other corner, all shouting the same thing. Alexander was quite sure that everyone in the entire city had been made aware of the development by the time he and Ritter reached the stables.
That evening, after a day of hard, yet fulfilling work, Grant came into the refectory, trailing another man in an official-looking uniform, though different from those worn by the overseers. The idle conversation over dinner died out quickly.
“You’ve no doubt heard the disturbing news,” Grant said. “New details have come to light that the Acuna feels are important to communicate to the people.” Grant stepped aside and introduced the man in the uniform with a gesture that was at once deferential and slightly dismissive.
“Thank you, Lord Grant,” the man said, turning to the crowd and regarding them with a grave expression. “The enemy is in our midst. We have reason to believe that the pretender himself is within our great city. He has poisoned the Crown Princess, murdering her and the unborn heir to the throne. As you well know, without the Crown to protect us and our enlightened way of life, we will surely be overrun by the enemy in his mad quest for total power.
“If you ever had any doubt of his power, let the heinous murder of our beloved Crown Princess set your mind right. He has penetrated our defenses and lives within our walls even as we speak, yet his powerful magic protects him from detection. It is for this reason that the Acuna comes to you with great humility. We need your help. The Babachenko can see farther and better than any man alive with the aid of his powerful magic and yet he is blind to this enemy, unable to find him even though he stalks our streets in the night. We come to ask for your eyes and ears. We come to beg that you will watch and report anything that seems suspicious.
“Such is the sworn duty of every Andalian subject, yet we all know that not everything that should be reported is brought to our attention. That must change if our children are to survive this war. Our King, His Most Excellent Majesty, has chosen to send the bulk of our forces against the enemy in faraway lands to prevent them from bringing this battle to our shores, but alas, war has come into our home and dealt us a grievous blow.
“But do not despair, our King is still strong and virile, he is committed to the future of our great country more than ever before, he has felt the evil of the enemy we face in the most personal way possible, and he stands firm, unwavering in the face of nearly impossible odds. I am here to ask you to stand with our brave King. Help us bring the murderer to justice and end this terrible war.”
He finished his speech with his head bowed in sadness, yet his colors revealed only a desire to put on a good performance. The man didn’t seem to have any interest in the truth of the words he spoke, only that he delivered them convincingly.
Alexander sat very still, scrutinizing the men in the room with his all around sight, looking for any indication that he was being singled out. He felt an almost uncontrollable urge to bolt, to run for his life before they could find him, yet he held still. The men in the room were busy discussing the news while the man from the Acuna stood near the door with Grant.
It wasn’t long before a stable hand approached them, speaking in hushed tones for a moment before pointing out another man in the room. Two overseers entered as if on cue and dragged the man away while he protested his innocence. A few minutes later another man stood and pointed out someone else, claiming that he’d been acting suspiciously. That man was dragged out of the room as well. Alexander sat quietly trying with all his might to be invisible.
Five men in all were removed by the overseers, each having been accused of various suspicious activities. Alexander could tell from their colors that the accusers were lying and the accused were innocent. Once five men had been rounded up, the Acuna and Grant exchanged pleasantries and left the rest of the men to finish their meal.
His appetite gone, Alexander left the refectory, going to a small balcony adjacent to the paddock that overlooked the plains a thousand feet below. He leaned against the low wall separating him from open sky and tried to process what had just happened. The evening was cool but pleasant enough, the sun having just set. He needed to think.