Cross Purposes

by Concolor44

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Author's Note:

Today is 19 May 2019. My previous post occurred on 11 November 2018. Again, my deepest apologies for the unforgivable hiatus. I can promise you that all future stories will be freaking COMPLETE before I start publishing them. You fine people deserve better than this.

As a quick update, my Dad is still with us, though his kidney function has fallen to 7%. If it hits 5%, it's basically all over. But he's still sharp. He and my Mom still flirt. I guess he'll die when he feels like it. My brother maintains he'll celebrate Independence Day with us, but I don't think so.

Also, in case you might be thinking that some of Elsa's enemies have forgotten about her, let me disabuse you of that notion…


Chapter Twenty-Seven: Skirmish

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Meanwhile, east of Arendelle City, Sunday 29 May 1842, 7:20am

Marshmallow, though vastly more intelligent now than he was prior to Elsa's attack and the destruction of the Hand, had no real knowledge of the human world. He understood this would raise several difficulties for him. Fortunately, the citizens of Arendelle were a hardy and adaptable folk.

Not possessing a mirror, he couldn't see if his efforts at shape-shifting resulted in a bipedal form that might not send people running. The few spots of relatively-still water weren't much better. So, finally, he decided to simply confront one of the citizens and ask for help.

It went better than he'd hoped, primarily because the first human he approached was a nine-year-old boy – one Harald by name – on his way to the barn to milk their cow. The kid stared at him for a few seconds, frowned, and then broke into a big smile. "Are you like Olaf? Did Queen Elsa make you?"

Giving a sharp nod, Marshmallow said, "She did."

"Queen Elsa's so awesome! Mama says she saved my life last winter."

"She has helped many who call Arendelle home."

"I skated on her ice rink three times! It was great! She did the whole castle courtyard!"

"I am gratified you had fun."

Harald stepped up to the golem. "So, what are you doing way out here?"

"I am on my way to the capitol. I was hoping I could get someone to help me with my appearance."

"… Huh?"

The golem concentrated, shrinking a bit until he was about the same size as the boy. "I don't want to cause a disturbance in the city, so I need to know if I look enough like a human to pass as one."

"Ha! No, not yet," Harald answered with a giggle as he set his bucket down and grabbed the icy creation's hand. "Come on. I bet Mama can help!"

Marshmallow's meeting with the boy's mother went nearly as well, and as soon as she understood his plight, she readily agreed to help. She did have a mirror, though it was a small one, hand-held, in an antique frame. Assuming (correctly) that it was a family heirloom, Marshmallow handled it with great care.

It took nearly an hour before Sana (that was the mother's name) was pleased with Marshmallow's countenance. "You'll pass, from a distance, anyway. You need to keep working on your voice, though. It's too deep for someone your size and age."

"I will. And thank you so very much for your aid."

Sana's expression sobered. During their time together, she'd learned much from the golem – much of it quite disturbing – and asked, "Do you think our Good Queen will … recover?"

"We believe so. We hope so. She is alive, and her Mate is caring for her. They are both extremely powerful in Magic." He stepped back, rolled his shoulders, and tried out a shrug. "Was that right?"

"I don't know that there is a 'right' way to shrug. It looked okay to me." She adjusted the hat they'd loaned him to go with the shirt, trousers, and boots Harald donated to the cause. "Might want to keep this on tight, just in case."

"Very well, then. Hopefully I can get to the palace without incident. I fear the Princess needs me."

Harald gave him an enthusiastic hug. "I'm awful glad you stopped at our farm."

"As am I. Farewell."

"Good journey," called Sana.

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Arendelle Castle, 9:40am

Anna, as was common knowledge, was a famous slugabed. That is, she was, until she had to act as Regent while Elsa was … away. (She refused to think of her sister as anything other than 'briefly indisposed'.) This crisis, though, robbed her of sleep and, despite the late hour when she'd turned in, she had tossed and turned herself awake well before dawn. Deciding not to disturb her husband (Kristoff had been up as late as she) she slipped out of bed and wandered down to Elsa's office. Maybe she could distract herself, maybe shuffle some of the worry off to the side? She had a bit of breakfast sent up, and started leafing through the orderly stacks lined up on the large desk.

Paperwork. How in God's name did Elsa handle all this paperwork? Anna knew there were a great many details involved in keeping the kingdom running smoothly, but honestly! She hoped Elsa would go ahead with her plans to move Arendelle towards a constitutional-and-severely-limited monarchy. Seriously, all this business and trade and squabbles and legal entanglements and proclamations and treaties and … she shook her head and picked up the little silver bell from its base on the corner of the desk. Its bright tinkling brought a guard to the door saying, "Yes, Your Highness?"

"Rolf, would you please send someone after Councilor Knutsen? I've got tons and tons of questions about this stupid trade agreement with Italy."

The man got a troubled look on his face. "Ah … as to that … you, um, may want to speak with the Captain."

That statement pulled a couple of blinks from the redhead. "The Captain?"

"Yes, Highness."

"I don't understand."

"Councilor Knutsen seems to be, ah, missing, Highness."

"… Define 'missing' for me."

"No one has seen him since Friday evening. The Captain has, um, detained Eric Eberhard for questioning to-"

Rolf had to move quickly to the side to keep from getting bowled over as Anna stormed past. He followed her at a fast jog.

Not even five minutes had elapsed before the Princess (Regent) swept into the Watch Captain's Headquarters. Jørgen's secretary looked up in surprise when Anna demanded, "Where is he?"

Quickly putting three and three together, the man nodded and answered, "Cap took him to the dungeon, Mum."

Pulling up short, Anna gave him a hard frown and said, "I'm not the Queen. Please don't pretend otherwise."

"Uh … yyyyes, Your Highness. Apologies."

"She's coming back."

"Of course, Highness."

"She'll be back and it won't be long."

"I quite agree, Your Highness."

She stormed off again at not quite a run, leading her scrambling Guard detail a merry chase. Another five minutes found her in front of the cell where young Mister Eberhard was restrained under sixty or seventy kilos of spiked chain. Her stare made him cringe. "Where is he?" she demanded.

His answer was a sullen, "I don't know."

Jørgen Fjelstad came rushing in at that point. "Your Highness! My apologies for not meeting you to-"

"Let's dispense with the pleasantries, Jørgen. I want to know what this snake did with Dankert, and I want to know yesterday." She cocked her head and glanced between the two. "Does Sofia know about this?"

"The Countess was the one who brought the situation to our attention."

Anna gave a brief smirk. "And Eberhard still has all his limbs?"

Jørgen suppressed a snort. "I'll admit it was a close thing. She did do a bit of creative dental work on him." Turning his attention to Eberhard, he said, "I questioned the fool last night, but didn't get anything useful. We considered it might loosen his tongue if we loaded him down with as much chain as he could bear, and left him here in the damp."

She motioned for the cell to be opened, and was shortly standing over Eberhard. "Was the Captain correct? Are you more in the mood to tell us the truth?"

He turned his head to stare at the wall, muttering, "You'll pay for this. You'll all pay."

After a moment, Anna gripped one of the tiny spheres of ice on her necklace, breathed a word, and was suddenly holding her short sword. She used its tip to turn the man's face back in her direction. He blanched when he realized what she held, but then firmed up his chin. "You won't cut me! My father would-"

"Your father," interrupted Jørgen, "is well aware of the situation."

Anna's eyes widened. "Is that right? Well, well."

Still addressing Eberhard, he added, "He is currently in the process of disowning you."

The man's jaw dropped. "… What?"

"He was utterly shamed by your actions, and has finally given up on the possibility you might turn out to be a decent human being. I must say, it took him long enough."

"Liar!"

"Would you like to see his letter? It came to my office early this morning."

Anna said, "Back on topic." She pressed the point into Eberhard's forehead until a drop of blood welled up; he didn't dare even twitch for fear of her wrath. "To use one of my sister's terms, I am out of all charity with you. You can tell us what you know, or I can start removing body parts until you change your mind." She drew the point a couple of centimeters along his brow, leaving a trail of red.

"Okay, okay! But … I really don't know where he is!"

"What did you do with him?"

"I … asked some … acquaintances … to get rid of him."

The sword was back, resting against his cheek. "… How?"

"They, um …" He swallowed hard. "They put him on a boat."

"So, he was kidnapped?"

"I … guess you could, ah, look at it that way."

"You kidnapped the Finance Minister of Arendelle? Have you taken leave of your senses?"

"… He's not even a peer."

"HE'S A PERSON!" she roared, "and a better one than you'll ever be, for damned sure!"

Eberhard winced at the ferocity in Anna's face, and wisely chose not to comment.

"What ship?" she prompted.

"I don't know."

"Do you know the names of these 'acquaintances'?"

"Um …" He briefly – very briefly – considered giving her a false name, but finally said, "Hans Tregel."

"Hans. Just great. Yet another rotten Hans." She tapped a foot and asked, "May I assume he's local talent?"

"Yes. As far as I know. I met him down at the docks a few times."

"Close your eyes."

He frowned, but then obeyed, and Anna placed the sword back on her necklace. Meeting Jørgen's gaze, she said, "Would you please have your men scour the city for this Tregel character?"

"At once, Highness."

"I'm gonna go talk to Sofia. She needs to know this."

"As I understand it," commented Jørgen, "she spent the night in the cathedral, praying."

Anna nodded. "Good. Now she can pray more accurately. It will be time for the regular service soon, anyway."

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10:35am

From the memories he shared with Elsa, Marshmallow knew the approximate layout of the castle. He at least knew where her office was, and her rooms, and Anna's. But that wasn't the issue. Getting into the castle compound in the first place? That was a poser.

After studying the problem for a bit, he faded back into the city, bounced around from alley to street in a generally northwest direction, and climbed over the city wall. Once outside, he sneaked along the rough stone until he came to the castle's rear wall rear before hoisting himself to its top. (His ability to form diamond-hard claws at the end of his arms – and then extend those arms five man-heights – aided significantly in this task.)

Keeping to the corners and shadows, he arrived after a few minutes at the part of the castle itself where Elsa's office could be found (on the fourth level). A quick bit of exertion put him on the small balcony outside her window, but he could see no one was there. Finding the French doors unlocked, he let himself in.

The weather beginning to get rather warm, Anna hadn't seen the need of a fire in the wide hearth. Not that it mattered to the ex-snow creature anymore, given his highly-reinforced structure, but he was simply more comfortable in cooler surroundings. Marshmallow made a circuit of the room, looking briefly through the top couple of documents on the desk, and then moved over to the door. Hearing nothing after half a minute, he opened the heavy portal and sneaked a quick peek up and down the corridor. Seeing no one, he let himself out and trundled quickly off in the direction where he thought Anna's rooms would be.

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Eastern Arendelle, 5:50pm

"Wait … I can … hear them … now."

{{ So can I. }}

Liam Johanssen didn't know how much blood he'd lost, but it was running down and dripping off one of the blades on the thing he rode. He blinked and tried to focus. "Please … don't kill them … they don't know."

{{ I will give your army a chance to return from whence they came. If they choose not to do so, I will stop them. }}

"Please … you can't fight … five thousand men."

{{ It is probable that I cannot defeat five thousand men. I will fight them, nonetheless. }}

Liam didn't know how to answer that, so he said nothing. He was barely conscious as it was.

A minute or so later they caught sight of the vanguard, a troop of about three hundred horse. The Major in the lead pulled hard on the reins and held up a hand. Twenty men trotted up to flank him, yanked their muskets out of their saddle scabbards, and drew down on the Sentinel. A few of them didn't even tremble.

The creature, being fully sentient, had a complete and complex self-concept. However, that did not include anything humans would usually consider a name; it understood it could not introduce itself. {{ Liam Johanssen, which man is the leader? }}

"The one … with the gaudiest … uniform." That was his last act before losing consciousness. The Sentinel removed him from its back and dropped him to the side. Taking another few steps forward, it concentrated on the human with the tallest hat. {{ You are not welcome in Arendelle. Take your men and leave the way you came. }}

The Major, one Erik Stoss, nearly fell off his horse. "God damn!" Whipping his head toward the dragoon to his left, he asked, "Did you hear that?"

"… Hear what?"

{{ Yes, I am speaking to you. My Lady Elsa gave me this gift. }} It paused while Major Stoss tried to come to grips with the situation. {{ I say again, you and your men must leave Arendelle. }}

"What are you?"

{{ I am a Sentinel. One of many. }}

"I don't see any others around. How do I know you aren't lying?" (The dragoons to either side of him gave him confused looks.)

{{ It matters not to me what you believe. But if you refuse to heed my warning, I will attack. You will not enjoy the outcome. }}

The Major glanced to either side. "You seem to be outnumbered."

{{ Liam Johanssen told me you are five thousand in number. }}

"… We are."

{{ Then I am not, as you say, outnumbered. }}

That gave the Major seriously to pause. "That's a mighty confident tone, Mister Sentinel. I'm of a mind to try my luck."

{{ Luck will have nothing to do with it. By my calculations, I should be able to kill some three hundred of you before taking enough damage to prevent me from further action. That would mean sixteen Sentinels would be able to kill your entire army, and I have the profoundest doubt all your men would stay and fight, once they realized the true state of affairs. }}

"If sixteen of you exist. I've only seen you."

{{ We number five hundred and thirty-seven. }}

The Major's eyes got very, very round.

{{ This is your final warning. You are the enemy of Arendelle. You have one minute to leave, before I make you leave. }}

Major Stoss turned his options over in his mind, not liking any of them. Only a dozen seconds or so passed before a disturbance made itself felt behind them. Colonel Aronsson cantered up, shouting, "What's the hold-up? Major! Explain yourself!" A heartbeat later, he caught sight of the Sentinel, and pulled up hard. "What the Hell is that?"

Sensing that this man was of a higher rank, the Sentinel focused on him. {{ I am one of the guardians of Arendelle. You are not welcome here. You will leave at once. }}

The Colonel didn't allow himself the luxury of wondering at the novelty of the situation. He simply drew his saber, pointed it at the ice creature, and yelled, "Fire!"

Twenty muskets spoke. Several chips of hard ice sprayed off the Sentinel. It bared its fangs and leapt …

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Just east of the Swedish Army, 6:00pm

Josef Sundberg raised his head and cocked an ear. "That was musket fire!"

{{ They just attacked one of us. }}

"Oh, no! Oh, God, I hope it doesn't kill them all!" He urged his tired horse to a gallop.

{{ We do not kill unless it is necessary. }} A handful of seconds went by. {{ Apparently, it wasnecessary. }}

"Oh, those damned fools!" He gritted his teeth. "Do the other Sentinels look like you?"

{{ Same basic shape. I am one of the smaller ones. }}

Josef only shook his head. Not half a minute passed before they came upon the tail end of the army, a platoon of infantry milling around, not knowing what was happening, but quite uneasy over the now-sporadic gunfire. The sight of the Sentinel galvanized them. A sergeant screamed, "Form up ranks!"

To the Sentinel, the courier called, "Wait here, wait here, I'll go talk to them!"

{{ Speak quickly, Josef Sundberg. More of us are coming, and we do not move slowly. }}It sat on its haunches and watched.

Josef spurred his tired horse toward the massing men and shouted, "I am Courier to King Charles! I have orders for Colonel Aronsson!"

The Sergeant pointed past him. "What in God's name is that thing? Did the King send it?"

"No, that is one of the guardians of Arendelle. Queen Elsa made them, and the melee at the front of the column is because another one stopped us. Please, I must get through to the Colonel! A lot of lives depend upon it!"

Giving Josef a suspicious look, the Sergeant asked, "How do you know there's another one at the front?"

"The Sentinels can speak mind-to-mind over distance! You have to let me through, or many more men will die!"

"… Mind to mind?"

"It's magic! Is that enough of an explanation for you? Now let me though!"

Josef noticed the men backing away hurriedly and glanced behind him. The Sentinel had moved up to his left flank. {{ Josef Sundberg, I have told the other Sentinel our plan. He has agreed tostop his assault until we get to the front. }}

"Oh, thank God!"

The Sergeant's confusion outlined his question. "Thank God for what?"

The Sentinel stepped forward and concentrated on the man. {{ Move out of our way. }}

"Aighh!" Wheeling his horse off to the side, the Sergeant waved frantically at his men. "Move! Move! Move! Move! Give 'em passage!"

. . .

Considering the terrain they traversed and the makeup of the invasion force, it was more than a kilometer from the rear of the column to the front. With Josef shouting himself hoarse, it took nearly five minutes to get through to where the brief, deadly skirmish had taken place. He pulled up short, appalled and sickened at the carnage.

The other Sentinel prowled back and forth in front of the massed men, its chipped and scarred form liberally spattered with blood and … other things. Most of the dragoons and their horses lay in scattered pieces between the icy creature and the rest of the company. When it spotted the courier, it Sent to him, {{ Speak quickly to the invaders, Josef Sundberg. Tell them to leave. }}

The "voice" was slightly different from the first one he'd met. He nodded and swallowed and turned to the knot of officers sitting their horses off to the side. Trotting up, he saluted and said, "My name is Josef Sundberg. I am the King's courier, and I have orders here from King Charles. They were designated for the Marshal, but now they are for you, Colonel Aronsson." He passed a packet to the fuming man. The Colonel had been trying to whip up his men to attack and overwhelm the Sentinel, a move they had vehemently shouted down. Snatching the packet with ill grace, Aronsson threw it to earth and demanded, "How do we know you're a courier? You could be any-"

The other Sentinel had moved swiftly and silently up to the Colonel's other side. It casually reached up and closed its fangs over the man's embroidered doublet, yanking him off his horse and sending him to the ground in a crumpled heap. Looming over him then, it leaned down until its nose was a finger's-width from his and Sent, {{ You will tell your men to turn around and depart Arendelle, or I will bite your head off. Now. }}

"Kill-it-kill-it-kill-it!" he screamed, crabbing away.

The creature's attack was so quick the few men who blinked missed it. It let the Colonel's head drop to its feet and lifted its gaze to the four Majors. To the nearest, it Sent, {{ Will you leave? }}

"Yes, yes, as God is my witness, I never wanted to come here in the first place!" He made a spinning motion over his head and shouted, "Retreat! We're getting out of Arendelle as fast as we can march!"

The feeling of relief that passed through the soldiers was so intense it nearly had mass.

Josef dismounted and picked up the packet, holding it up to the Major. "I guess this is for you now. King Charles said it was vital these orders be followed." Looking over at the slaughtered men, he sighed and commented, "You were supposed to wait in the pass. Did Colonel Aronsson not know that?"

Accepting the packet, the Major answered, "Possibly. There's no way to know now. Marshal Bladberg had promised us a day of rest, but Aronsson countermanded it. He was so keen to attack the capitol, he … well …" Gesturing at his headless corpse, he continued, "He was single-minded to the point of suicide, obviously, so what he knew may not have mattered."

"I met a contingent on the way here who were taking the Marshal back to Stockholm."

"Yes."

"They were of the opinion he'd been poisoned."

"I couldn't claim to be surprised, frankly." Shaking his head and heaving a frustrated sigh, he opened the orders, pulled out two sheets of parchment, and quickly scanned them. His eyes widened in shock at learning of the kidnapping, then pressed shut in disgust. Grimacing, he muttered, "No one had to die."

"No one would have if you had waited in the-"

"I know that!" spat the Major. "We all did! But Aronsson was in charge. He claimed to know the King' mind, and … damn it, with the King's behavior these last … but of course no one could have known about the Princess, and …" Giving his head a shake, he added, "Twenty-seven good men. What a sorry state of affairs."

Clearing his throat, Josef said, "Major, I must needs ask a boon." At the officer's raised eyebrow, he continued, "My horse is spent. I am to ride on to Arendelle to deliver the King's official cessation of hostilities to Princess Anna."

"The Princess? Why not the Queen?"

"The Queen was attacked and is currently indisposed."

"My God. Attacked? Someone … but how?"

"According to that Sentinel, it was Dark Magic. I don't know any details, but Princess Anna is currently in charge, and I need to speak with her sooner than later."

The Major nodded. "Very well. Take mine. He's as fresh as any of them." He dismounted and passed Josef the reins.

"What of you? You need one, too."

"I'll use the Colonel's horse. He certainly won't be needing it." Waving Josef off to the west, he said, "Godspeed." Turning away to motion to a nearby Lieutenant, he called, "Get one of the wagons over here and a detail of men to … gather the remains of the fallen."

The blood-covered Sentinel stood nearby, intently watching the milling men as they all got turned around. It Sent, {{ Josef Sundberg, my companion will accompany you to Arendelle City. }}

"I appreciate that." He swung up into the saddle and turned the horse westward. A slight movement in his peripheral vision drew his gaze to the crest of the nearest hill, and a chill ran down his back.

Five more Sentinels stood in silhouette. As he watched, a sixth joined them. A seventh. Two more.

The first one he'd met came up on Josef's left. {{ Shall we go? You should get out of this valley and over to the next. There are farms, and you will need a place to pass the night. }}

"… Yes." He urged the horse to a canter.

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Arendelle Castle, 8:20pm

Sitting at the desk in her office, Princess (currently Regent) Anna of Arendelle had no attention for the short stack of papers on her right. The two men standing in front of her, Captain Jørgen Fjelstad and Commandant Martin Pfyffer, were using all of it. She cleared her throat; glanced down at the letter of introduction she held; looked back at Pfyffer. "Yes, well, I'm sorry no one could see you yesterday." She was glad he spoke passable Norwegian; her Italian wasn't anything like as good as Elsa's. "As you may guess, things have been kinda … unstructured."

"I can certainly understand, Your Highness. We were most distressed to hear of Queen Elsa's, ah, troubles." News of the attack on Arendelle's beloved Queen had been the primary – or only – topic of conversation in the city for the last twenty-seven hours. "I would like to imagine there might have been something we could have done, but from descriptions I heard today, that doesn't seem likely."

"No. They were … well prepared." Anna swallowed a lump. Concentrated on her breathing. "She is being treated. I have every confidence she will come back to us whole."

"That, at least, is good news. His Holiness was most insistent that we offer our aid."

Anna nodded. "Looks like it. We'll be glad of the help. We've heard stories about how good the Swiss Guard is in a fight."

"Your Highness," said Jørgen, "I would like to go ahead and move them into the Watch barracks, by your leave. I think it would cheer the citizens no end to see some foreign support, after all the rumors of war. I know Spain is sending ships, but they are planning to stay in the sea-lanes for the most part."

"Ships?" questioned the Commandant, doing a half-turn toward Jørgen. "Truly? We'd not heard anything like that."

"I'd imagine not. We got word of it ourselves less than two weeks ago. And we haven't advertised the fact."

"Ships," he muttered, rubbing his chin. "Very good. If they can prevent an attack by sea, we will only have to worry about overland invaders."

Jørgen countered, "Actually, we likely won't have to worry about that, either."

"But … I thought …"

"Oh, I'm not saying someone won't try it. But our good Queen has instituted a, ah, civil defense force, if you will."

"… I'm not following."

"I take it you haven't met a Sentinel yet."

Pfyffer's blank look answered that for him. "We've been in the hostel since we arrived."

"Heh. Very well. Your men will be patrolling with the Watch, so they'll get to meet some."

The Commandant gave a hesitant nod. "Okay, sure. Sentinel? Is that a rank?"

"No, it's more of a … concept." He clapped the foreigner on his shoulder. "You'll understand, once you meet one."

"Gentlemen," interrupted Anna, "if that's all, I have rather a lot of paperwork to go through before I can turn in, and I'm already quite tired."

"Of course, Your Highness. Please feel free to call upon us for anything."

"Thank you. Good evening."

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French Embassy to Arendelle, 9:00pm

Former Ambassador Pierre François Guillaume and his current replacement, Viscount Julien Panettiere were poring over the French government's official response to Guillaume's letter of complaint after Elsa had frozen his boot to the ground. The rotund man grumped, "This is too little, too late."

"Not so. It's a censure."

"It's the lightest excuse for a censure I've ever seen. No demands, no penalties. They want her to give me an apology. An apology! Damn them."

"An apology is something I can use," Panettiere insisted. "Both as a lever and to undermine certain of her alliances. If Poland is made aware that she insulted the government of France …"

"If you get one from her with this flimsy-"

"And suppose she doesn't? What then, eh? They'll take stronger measures."

"It may all be moot, with that ginger idiot in charge." Guillaume blew a disgusted sigh. "Timing has been working against me since I arrived in this god-forsaken outhouse of a kingdom."

Panettiere was confident, though. "You leave it to me. Frankly I think the Princess will be easier to manipulate than the Ice Queen."

"Yeah, well, good luck with that."

"I prefer to rely on skill over luck, especially when ours has been sour."

Guillaume heaved his bulk out of his chair and ambled to the sideboard. "I need a brandy."

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Anna's Apartments, 10:00pm

The Princess Regent leaned her head against her husband's arm, covering a prodigious yawn. "Great glory, but I'm tired."

"I can't imagine why. A long, harrowing day after, what was it? Three hours of sleep?"

"If that."

"Yeah. You ought to be raring to go, young lady."

She giggled. "It sounds funny when you call me that."

Kristoff jumped in ahead of her when she reached for the doorknob. "Please, allow me. You are much too fatigued to be doing such heavy labor as turning knobs."

"Oh, Sir, you know me too well." She pressed a dramatic wrist against her brow. "Surely you can think of some way to aid me."

"I can think of a few," he answered with a not-quite-lascivious grin.

Their flirting was quickly interrupted when they opened the door to find a small figure standing beside the divan in their receiving room. Kristoff jerked out a heavy knife while Anna pulled her short sword off her necklace and shouted, "Who are you? What do you want?"

Marshmallow held his hands out to the side in a show of peace. He allowed his voice to assume its former depth and said, "Princess. Kristoff. I have come to help."

It took a moment, but Anna recognized the deep, booming tones. "… Marshmallow?"

"Indeed, yes, Your Highness. I have come to offer my aid in whatever way you may wish to use it. If there is anything I can do for Lady Elsa …"

"Oh." She stuck her sword back on the necklace while Kristoff sheathed his knife. "You look … different."

"This is a gift from Lady Elsa. After she was attacked, all her creations received a major boost of magic. I can now assume any shape I wish." Suiting action to words, he shrank until his clothes fell off, stepped to the side, and grew to about six ells height. "Is there anything I can do, or is His Highness handling her treatment?"

"Um … Carlos and Grandpabbie."

"Ah. The trolls. We didn't know where she had been moved."

"We?"

"The Sentinels and I. They are now quite intelligent, and a great deal larger than they were."

"Oh! Okay. I haven't …" Looking up at Kristoff, she asked, "Have you seen any Sentinels today?"

"I … don't believe so. Huh. That's funny. There are always a few prowling around near the castle."

Marshmallow offered, "Most of them left for the eastern border."

"… How's that?"

"The Swedish forces arrived and pushed on into Arendelle."

"They weren't supposed to do that! They had plans to stop in the pass until … but … huh. Of course, now Elsa can't … huh."

"Yes, they were to wait until Lady Elsa could 'contain' them. But apparently there was an incident among the leadership. The Marshal fell ill, his Colonel took over, and immediately began the invasion."

"Oh, my gosh!"

"The Sentinels stopped it, though. The army is even now most of the way back out of Arendelle. They got a small taste of what it meant to fight a Sentinel, and a small taste was a belly-full. They won't be returning."

"Oh. Well, okay. That was the plan, after all, wasn't it? So, it worked, right?"

"It did."

"Good." She yawned again, even longer.

Kristoff said, "Marsh, old fellow, I need to get my wife to bed. She's exhausted."

"I can see that. Would you object to my standing guard in here tonight?"

"Not at all! I think that's a great idea. I think we'll both sleep better knowing you're out here."

"Excellent." He moved over to take a post by the wall where he could easily monitor both the door and the window. "I would bid you a good night, then."

. . .

. . .

. . .

Monday 30 May 1842

A bucket of brine brought Dankert Knutsen to sputtering consciousness.

"On your feet," demanded a rough voice in broken Spanish. "On my ship, you work, or you sleep with the fishes."

The young man pulled himself up, then looked around dumbly. The ocean extended to the horizon in all directions. "Where … where am I?"

The other man – short, sturdy, middle-aged, and weathered by the sea like a piece of driftwood – laughed in his face. "Good joke." He pointed at a bucket that held what looked like a wide chisel and a coarse brush. "Get in the bo'sun's chair and get to workin' on those barnacles."

"… Do what? What are you talking about?"

The man placed a hard hand on the hilt of a dirk in his belt. "I'm talkin' about pullin' yer weight. Now get busy." He stomped off, giving a meaningful look to a large, scarred hulk of a man who started Dankert's way.

The Arendellian was at a loss; his mind was fuzzy for some reason. "Would you please tell me where I am?" He held out his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

The tall man stopped, squinted at Dankert's hands, and blew a disgusted noise through his beard. "Cap'n! This ain't no sailor."

The short man – evidently the Captain of the ship, which Dankert now noticed was a three-masted schooner – stumped back over and yelled, "What kind of bilge is that? He signed up, didn't he? Had his credentials, didn't he?"

For an answer, the huge man grabbed Dankert by the forearm and splayed his hand open. "See? He ain't never helt a rope in his life."

The Captain gazed in disbelief at the smooth skin on Dankert's palm, then looked up at him. "Who are you?"

"I … my name is Dankert Knutsen." For some reason, he found it hard to think.

The Captain gave him a sour stare for a moment before walking quickly back to his cabin. The unfortunate Arendellian, in no small way concerned for his life, didn't move from the spot. A few minutes later, the Captain returned with a paper in his hand. He thrust it toward Dankert's face. "You signed on as Geraldo Martín. Said you'd been a first mate before, but got ranked for fighting. So, who are you?"

Dankert scrubbed at his scratchy eyes. "I've never seen that paper before in my life, I've never heard of any Geraldo Martín, and the last thing I remember is walking into the royal stables in Arendelle."

"Royal stables? For what?"

"To get my horse." He gestured around. "Where are we?"

"You're on my ship, the Atlantica, bound for home in Lisbon."

A short length of silence preceded, "Have you any idea at all how I came to be on board your ship, Captain …?"

"Lapa. Captain Taras Lapa. And you signed on day before yesterday. Two of your friends brought you aboard last night. You were dead drunk."

"More than likely, I was drugged." He thought for a moment, then gave a disgusted sigh. "Eberhard."

"… Who?"

"Eric Eberhard." He shook his head, wincing at a sharp pain, and gingerly rubbed a hand against it, not really surprised at the knot he felt under his hair. "This situation, I fear, is over a woman."

Captain Lapa barked a laugh. "Old story, that." He parked his arms akimbo. "So, you're not a sailor."

"No, Captain, I am not."

"And what line of work are you in, Dankert Knutsen?"

"I'm the Minister of Finance for Arendelle."

A smile quirked the corner of Lapa's mouth. "Uh-huh. And this … Eberhard? That the fellow's name?"

"Eric Eberhard. He's the son of a minor peer. He's interested in my fiancée, and indignant that the Queen placed a commoner on her Council."

"Commoner? That's be you?"

"Me."

"… How did you get onto the Council if you ain't a noble?"

"I have a gift for mathematics. Also, Queen Elsa isn't bothered by titles. She assigns positions based on merit."

"Izzat right." Captain Lapa tapped his toe contemplatively.

"Captain, I apologize for this inconvenience to you. I would like to, as you put it, pull my weight while on board. I can also arrange a payment for your hospitality once we dock in Lisbon. Arendelle has an embassy there."

"Uh-huh." The short man stared off at the horizon for a couple of breaths. "So, Dankert Knutsen, do you know anything about ships? Anything at all?"

"I know navigation. My father has a shipping fleet."

"A fleet?"

"Yes."

"How big a fleet?"

"Forty-five sea-worthy ships, and twenty-one for coastal traffic."

"… Thought you said you was a commoner."

"And so I am. My father is a successful merchant, but our family has never held any sort of title."

"Uh-huh." He shrugged. "We'll make do. Are you handy at anything? Besides navigation. I have a steersman already, and we know this route."

After a few seconds' thought, Dankert said, "I can do a bit of cooking. And if you don't need a cook, I can always wash dishes."

"Hah! That's good. The Minister o' Finance as my scullery. I think I like that."

"Very well, then." A thought occurred to him. "By the way, what day is it?"

"What day? Monday, o' course."

"… And the date?"

"It'd be the thirtieth."

"Damn."

"What?"

"I've been out for two days. That explains why my mouth tastes like a tramp's boot." He chewed on a lip, glanced at the Captain, and asked, "Are you planning on putting into any ports between here and Lisbon? I know we're already too far away from Arendelle for you to turn around."

"True, that. Well, we'll be dockin' in Amsterdam tomorrow, to pick up a load of oak turnings."

"Amsterdam. That's good."

"What?"

"Arendelle has an embassy there, too. I can get you your payment, and arrange passage back home."

"That sounds good." He grinned and stuck a thumb over his shoulder. "Meanwhile, Mister Minister, you got dishes to wash."

. . .

. . .

. . .

Obzha, Russia, 1:40pm

The mid-day meal, when he partook, was always an austere experience. Maxim Ostapovich, the Khan of the Guild, hadn't lived so long by being careless with his food, and that extended to the items he chose to eat, not simply whether they were poisoned or not. Steamed or raw vegetables, broiled fish, a narrow selection of fruits, an even narrower one of grains, and a small, dark beer he had brewed himself encompassed the lot. He washed up after himself, too.

Having dried his hands, he was just sitting down to go over a new contract when there came a knock at his door. He placed a hand on the hilt of the poisoned dagger at his belt. "Enter."

The opened portal revealed his current messenger-on-duty, who carried a worn satchel over one shoulder. He let it drop to his hand and held it out. "This came in a few minutes ago."

The Khan nodded toward his desk. "Put it there."

The man did, and left.

Ostapovich took a smooth, black stone from his desk and set it on the satchel. Several seconds passed, and the stone changed not a whit. Satisfied, the Khan opened it and retrieved the reports inside.

Several minutes later he dropped the papers to his desk and leaned back, rubbing his chin. This may be our only chance to complete the contract. Yes, it was declared invalid, but taking out the Snow Queen would cement the Guild into legend. He really didn't have to think about it long. Taking out a quill and a piece of parchment, he jotted down his orders to his men in Arendelle.

. . .

. . .

. . .

End Note:

Thank you for your patience. I will endeavor to get the next chapter up inside four weeks.

Please let me know your thoughts on the story.

Con