The castle of Arendelle was guarded by a pair of large wooden gates that looked as though they could have shut out the world. From what Anders understood, they had done just that for three years, keeping the then-Princess Elsa shut away for fear of what she might do with her powers. Now, they were always open, on the queen's orders, and had been open for two years. Not even the chill of winter could force them closed, but then the queen was stronger than winter.
Anders stood under the gates for the second time in his life. The first time had been when he was first brought to Arendelle to serve as the ambassador from the Southern Isles. The gates were meant to welcome one and all into the castle, but he couldn't shake the intimidation that slipped over his spirit when he passed through them. He had wanted to be strong, but looking up at the queen's cold blue eyes had only brought that fear back, and he knew he couldn't stay in Arendelle. He would try, for he didn't want to disappoint Master Hansen, but in time – in twenty-five days, he thought – he would falter and have to leave.
That time proved to be far less than twenty-five days. Less than a week later, he stood beneath the gates for the second time in his life, looking up at them. They seemed just as intimidating this time, despite the sunlight and the children racing about eagerly.
"Is something wrong?"
Anders nearly jumped out of his boots when he heard the queen's voice just behind him. "Your Grace," he gasped when he had nearly recovered, and he dropped to one knee. "Forgive me. I did not expect you."
"There's no need for forgiveness," she said, and when he glanced up, he saw her smiling. "What's the matter, Mr. Robertsen? It hasn't even been three weeks since you arrived here. It's barely been one, and you're already planning to leave?"
"I'm afraid I must," he said. "I've received troubling news, and I want to return to the Southern Isles in case I should be needed. I know now that I should have asked your permission before preparing to leave, but I was rather distressed by the news, and –"
She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Please rise. I'd rather be able to look you in the eye."
He got to his feet and found that he still couldn't quite look her in the eye, but this time because he was too tall. She seemed far kinder than before, and he couldn't tell whether it was because of the sunlight or because her smile looked genuine. "Your Grace, I would like your permission to return to the Southern Isles for a time."
"Of course," Queen Elsa said. "Would you share the news you received? If there's anything I can do to help, I'll see to it that it's done."
"Thank you, Your Grace," he said, pulling a letter from his pocket. It had been given to him the night before by a servant, and he had barely been able to sleep after reading it. He'd read it and reread it for hours, trying to find some message of hope, but there was none. "The members of the royal family of the Southern Isles are being murdered. So far, the only two alive are King Hjalmar and… and Prince Hans." He hesitated before speaking, but Queen Elsa didn't seem angry at him for speaking the name of the prince who had tried to kill her. "With all due respect, I think I would be more useful there than here."
"I understand." Her eyes had widened for a moment, but now she looked every inch the powerful queen. "Stay there as long as you need. If you would like your place back after this has all cleared up, I will keep it open for you."
"Thank you, Your Grace," he said. "I'm not sure when I'll be able to return…" He didn't want to say that he didn't want to return. Even though the queen was being kind now, he had heard enough stories to make him wary, and he couldn't escape the shadow the gates had thrown over him.
"I understand," she said again. "I'm sure you'd like to travel on the fastest ship we have."
"If it's possible, Your Grace."
"Come this way." She gestured for him to follow her and led him down to the docks. "What do you know of the murders?"
"They all happened at nearly the same time," Anders said. "Some could have been coincidence or accident, but almost all of the brothers… it must be a group of master assassins sent to kill them. The only question is who is behind this."
"Could it be Hans?" Queen Elsa asked.
"Impossible," Anders said. "With respect. He's been locked up since his return to the Southern Isles and has had no contact with anyone but his guards."
The queen frowned, but the expression quickly passed. "Someone must be working from the outside then, to bring down the Southern Isles. If King Hjalmar needs any aid from Arendelle, tell him that he must only ask and I will do everything I can. I want to cement a friendship between our kingdoms."
"Thank you, Your Grace." He bowed as they stopped beside a sloop.
"This is the Hellracer," she said. "She's the fastest ship in Arendelle, and she should get you to the Southern Isles in five days. Captain Jacob Ovesen will see to it that you arrive safely. Captain?" She walked a few steps up the gangplank. "Captain Ovesen? Are you there?"
"A few moments, Your Grace," a man called. Four minutes later, a sandy-haired man stumbled out, tucking his shirt into his trousers. He was short and thin, with sunburned skin and a forehead that looked high from his receding hairline, but his smile was wise, and as he bowed to Queen Elsa, she smiled in return. "What can I do for you?"
"I need you to return Anders Robertsen to the Southern Isles as quickly as possible. A dangerous situation has arisen, and he needs to return home."
"Of course, Your Grace," Captain Ovesen said. "Mr. Robertsen, if you would come aboard quickly. We can still catch the tide, and I'll have you there before you can even start to get seasick."
Anders started up the gangplank but stopped and dropped to one knee before the queen. "Your Grace, I can't thank you enough for this. If there's any way I can ever repay you for what you have done for me – for what you have done for the Southern Isles –"
"You can see to it that order is restored to the Southern Isles." She set a hand on his shoulder and gently pulled him back to his feet. "If you choose not to return, I'll understand, but I'd appreciate it if you sent word back before we got another ambassador. I don't like to be kept in the dark about anything."
"I understand," Anders said. "Thank you, Your Grace."
"Go."
The journey to the Southern Isles was as swift as Queen Elsa had promised. The crew of the Hellracer was annoyed at having to leave port so quickly, but Anders did his best to help them. He had never served aboard a ship before, but the sailors were happy to have someone so eager to help, and he found himself scrubbing the deck and handling laundry. Before arriving at Arendelle, he would have rebelled at being given such menial tasks, but he was no longer so proud. The queen hadn't broken his spirit, but his fear had made him humble.
In any case, working made the journey feel quicker. If he'd had nothing to do, he would have spent the five days fretting and waiting to arrive at the palace, constantly fearing that he would be too late. There was always some task or other that the sailors found for him, however, and when his mind was on his aching limbs and what more he had to do, the day seemed to fly by.
His time on the ship wasn't all drudgery. Captain Ovesen offered to teach him something of seafaring, and he did learn how to work a sextant and the difference between the sails. Still, his mind wasn't present enough for him to learn much of anything, and the captain frequently gave up less than an hour into the lesson. Anders didn't mind that he wasn't learning much; he was too worried about what he would find when they reached the Southern Isles. Though he was traveling as quickly as he could, he had no doubt the master assassins were doing the same, and they might be close enough to kill the king and his family, down even to the very youngest princes and princesses. If he didn't reach them in time, the entire royal family might be wiped out. That was the fear that kept him awake at night, despite his weariness and the gentle rocking of the ship.
Who would want to destroy an entire family? What would it gain them? The only reason he could think would be war, and there were no countries that hated the Southern Isles enough to do that. The closest thing they had to an enemy was Arendelle, and even that was simply a cold relationship because of what Prince Hans had done. No one blamed Queen Elsa for not forgiving him. If someone had tried to kill Anders's sisters, he doubted he would forgive the man either.
There had to be something he had overlooked. Perhaps there was a far-off country… but no, that would be ridiculous. The only people who might benefit from chaos in the Southern Isles would be the nearby countries, unless there were people who wanted the whole region to devolve into chaos. He had heard of roving tribes of marauders far to the east, and it was possible that they might want to destabilize the region before launching their attack and laying waste to every country. But he hadn't thought they were organized enough to do anything that powerful.
His thoughts kept him awake for hours each night, and as he lay there, he wondered if there was some other reason that the Southern Isles didn't entirely trust Arendelle. The only reason he could think of for that was Queen Elsa. She could control winter, but she was also a woman, and for all he knew – since the Southern Isles had always been ruled by a man – his country didn't trust a woman to be in charge of a kingdom.
Someone would have to find a way to stop that. Perhaps that could be his task, his reason for remaining in the Southern Isles.
By the time the Hellracer reached the Southern Isles, Anders was worn out from working and barely sleeping. The only respite he had was that he hadn't been seasick, and even that felt like little more than a matter of luck. His ancestors, after all, had been seafarers from farther south, and it was only right that he should take easily to a boat. Still, he was glad to get off it when Captain Ovesen brought the Hellracer to a dock. Anders could see the castle from there, and he barely waited for the captain to lower the gangplank before disembarking and racing for the castle.
He had to be there in time. If anything happened to King Hjalmar or Prince Hans, the kingdom would have to rely on Prince Morten to take the throne, and he would likely be the next person to be assassinated. The killers would work their way through the royal line until the Southern Isles – Anders's home – was left in anarchy. He wouldn't let that happen, not while he was still strong enough to fight for his people and the place where he had grown up.
