“I am very grateful for all your help, Your Highness,” Michael said to Fhileraene, with a slight bow. “I shall not forget.”
“Rest assured we shall remind you if you do, Majesty,” Prince Fhileraene replied with a wry smile. “From this day forth, it shall be known that the elven kingdom of Tuarhievel was the first to recognize the Emperor Michael Roele and declare an alliance against those who would disrupt the peace between us.”
“It shall be so,” said Michael, drawing himself up proudly. For the first time since he had heard the shocking news of his father’s death, he seemed to accept the fact that he was now no longer Prince Michael, but Emperor Michael.
At the moment, an emperor without an empire to command, thought Aedan. But as to whether or not it would remain that way, there was no way of knowing until word had been sent out that he was safe and they heard responses to their messages. Would the nobles of the empire line up behind Michael, as was their duty, or would they transfer their allegiance to Arwyn of Boeruine? And if some nobles did defect, would there be enough to make the eventual outcome certain?
Too many questions, Aedan thought, and not a single answer. Yet. It was a difficult way for Michael to begin his reign, and for him to begin his duties as lord high chamberlain. They were both too young, and far from ready. But fate did not wait on the convenience of individuals, as Aedan recalled his tutor saying often. As they took their leave of Fhileraene and once more made their Way outside, escorted by Gylvain, Aedan said a silent prayer to Haelyn. He thanked the god for their deliverance, and he prayed for guidance in the days to come. They had been saved. Now it would be up to them, two boys, to try to save the empire.
Baladore Trevane was out of breath. He was no longer a young man and was unaccustomed to running. He was a short man, about five-and-a-half feet tall, and his considerable girth did not permit him to move very quickly, but nevertheless, he had trotted all the way to the docks from the College of Sorcery, panting with each labored step. His hair was white, merely a fringe that went around his head like a laurel wreath, and he carried a red kerchief as he ran, using it to mop the perspiration off his bald pate, so that the sweat wouldn’t run into his eyes. As he huffed and puffed his way onto the docks, he wished he could have used a spell to transform himself into a bird and flown to the Imperial Cairn. However, at his age, he had to be careful of his spells.
For one thing, he would have made an exceedingly stout bird. A pelican, no doubt, a great, big fat one. And as a pelican, he would still have expended considerable energy in flapping his wings to fly. Assuming he could even get off the ground. It was easier to run, all things considered. At least that way, he didn’t have to worry about whether or not he got the spell exactly right.
His memory just wasn’t what it used to be. He no longer trusted his recall. He had to look everything up. Some things he remembered with no difficulty. He could, for example, still recite the history of the empire without getting a single date wrong, but when it came to spells, sometimes he simply wasn’t sure anymore. There was nothing more ludicrous or pathetic than an absentminded sorcerer, he thought. But then again, he was almost seventy years old. All in all, he was in remarkably good health for his age, even if he did get a trifle vague from time to time.
On this occasion, however, there was nothing vague about his state of mind at all. A halfling messenger had arrived at the college, carrying a dispatch all the way from Tuarhievel from Prince Fhileraene himself. Of course, the fact that the messenger had been a halfling meant that he had almost certainly not traveled all the way from Tuarhievel the way normal people would. Doubtless, he had shadow-walked, creating a portal into the Shadow World and passing through it, emerging in Anuire. A handy little skill to have, thought Baladore, going from Point A to Point B without passing through the distance in between. Too bad humans couldn’t learn to do it. Still, he understood that passage through the Shadow World, even for a halfling, could be very dangerous, so the message that this halfling brought had to be important. When he learned it was from Prince Fhileraene, he knew it was. But when he saw whose hand had written the message, his heart leapt, and he ran straightaway for the Imperial Cairn.
Young Lord Aedan was alive! And Prince Michael was alive, as well! It was wonderful news, and he rushed to bring it to the palace. He hailed a boat captain and had the man take him out to the island where the palace stood. With the sail up and the rowers assisting the boat’s passage through the bay, it was much faster than traveling along the causeways, and even though boat travel made him seasick, this news simply couldn’t wait.
Baladore had not gone to Seaharrow with the Imperial Court. He had remained in the city of Anuire, as he always did, because his duties as librarian of the College of Sorcery required his presence there at all times. The college was the repository of all the magical knowledge of the empire, and it was one of the few places in Cerilia where students could come—if they were fortunate enough to be accepted—to study the mystic arts. The college numbered some of the finest adepts in the empire among its teaching faculty, and many wizards from realms as far off as Zikala or Kiergard made annual journeys to the capital to study and do arcane research in the library of the college in exchange for teaching some of its students. Consequently, Baladore could not afford to be absent from his post and so he always remained in Anuire throughout the summer season while the Imperial Court repaired to the cool ocean breezes of Seasedge in the province of Boeruine.
Baladore’s first inkling that something had gone drastically wrong at Summer Court came only when he heard that Lord Tieran had arrived at a gallop back at the palace with the empress and the house guard. Rumors had flown wildly all over the city and, what with his duties, it was a few days before Baladore was able to make his way to the palace to ascertain what had really happened.
That was when he had discovered that the emperor had died at Seaharrow, which was tragic news, of course, but not nearly as devastating as the news that Prince Michael and Lord Aedan had disappeared, apparently the victims of foul play. They had apparently gone out hawking in the morning and their horses had returned to the stables by themselves. There had been blood on Aedan’s saddle, too.
Why they had gone out by themselves, without taking an escort of the house guard with them, was anybody’s guess. It was certainly not like Aedan to be so irresponsible. He had even left his sword behind in the stables. Clearly, his mind had been elsewhere than on his duties. Questioning of the guards posted at the castle gate had resulted in the information that Prince Michael had gone out hawking by himself, and that Aedan had followed alone, shortly thereafter. Lord Arwyn had reportedly flown into a rage at his guards for allowing the prince to go out by himself, but the guards had insisted that Prince Michael had commanded them to let him through, saying Aedan would be following right behind. They had naturally assumed Aedan would follow with an escort, but when Aedan came galloping through the gates alone, they had seen no reason to stop him. Perhaps the guard escort would follow on his heels. When they didn’t, however, it was reported to the captain of the watch, who supposedly should have delivered the information to Lord Arwyn, who in turn claimed he had never heard a thing about it. When the boys’ horses returned by themselves, Lord Arwyn had raged that heads would roll and had immediately set out with a squad of mounted men-at-arms in search of the two boys.
What Lord Tieran had done then must have been the hardest thing he had ever done in his entire life. As soon as Lord Arwyn and his knights had passed through the castle gates, Lord Tieran had assembled the Royal House Guard and immediately had horses saddled for the empress and her daughters. Without stopping to bring anyone else along except his wife, the Lady Jessica, Lord Tieran had made haste to depart before Lord Arwyn could return with his knights. He had left the rest of the court behind and immediately set out for Anuire on horseback with his female charges and the entire house guard for an escort.