Chapter 11
On the easternmost edge of Tristain was the border town of Aubergine. It was an old town with a history that spanned nearly as long as Tristania itself, but it had never been as rich or storied until only a few centuries ago, when it became the front line in the wars between Tristain and Germania. Over the years, the town passed back and forth between the two countries as territories were gained, lost, then gained again, with each side shoring up its defenses a little more than the last, until finally it settled back into the hands of its original founders as a walled city with defenses nearly as impressive as the capital.
But where war had devastated the countryside, in the years of peace, the presence of Germania made Aubergine wealthy and powerful. For the same reason it made the ideal military outpost, so too did it make the perfect trading town between the two countries. Merchants passed through here on a near monthly basis, bringing in the furs, steel, and precious metals of the east and leaving with the silks, books, and enchanted tools of the west. This was why it remained staunchly as royal demesne; it was too profitable to give to anyone else.
Although Tristain was a small country, it still took Henrietta's procession days to reach this border town. She wondered where Alex was right now. When he was with them, he would ride in the carriage with her and Mazarin, much to the latter's annoyance. The cardinal never said anything, and perhaps that was for the best. The look that Alex gave him the first time he opened the door and sat across from him made it clear that he was daring the older man to try to stop him. But sitting still for long seemed to ill suit her familiar. About an hour into the ride, he opened the door again and jumped out, saying that he was "going hunting" when asked.
He did not return for an hour. When he did and climbed back into the carriage, Henrietta noticed that it seemed to creak suspiciously more than before. This happened a number of times again on just the first day alone, the creak getting louder and louder every time until after his last return from the hunt he stopped trying to ride in the carriage altogether.
Now he had been gone for nearly three hours, and their procession was nearing the town, a force consisting of six hundred knights, two hundred from each branch of the royal knight orders. She could hear the sound of the bell tower ringing from behind the walls to signal their arrival, and the townspeople were gathering to greet them behind the wide open gates. The majority of the knights stayed outside of the walls to set up camp, while a smaller force, mostly consisting of the officers and veteran knights, escorted her into the city. When they entered, flower petals were thrown into the air in such numbers that it made Henrietta think of a snowstorm. She rolled her eyes at the display and wondered whose idea this stunt was. Flowers for the Flower of Tristain. How original.
"Your Highness," the town magistrate said amidst the loud cheers as Henrietta slid down the window of her carriage. "We welcome you to Aubergine."
"And I thank you for it," Henrietta said pleasantly. "This warm welcome by you and the good people of Aubergine has refreshed me after a long ride." She held out a hand, letting the magistrate kiss it.
"The honor is ours," the magistrate said. "Please, come this way. We've prepared a feast for you and your men to enjoy."
"That sounds lovely." Henrietta glanced back towards the closing gates and frowned as she lightly touched her chest. Still nothing? Where have you gone, Alex?
"Your Highness?" the magistrate said. "Is something the matter?"
"No, it's nothing," she answered.
Henrietta followed the magistrate back to his mansion, which doubled as his office, at the far southern end of town. Inside, a luxurious dining hall blending the Tristanian and Germanian styles had been fully set with tables and food and bards to provide atmosphere. Henrietta was given the seat of honor at the very head of the room, with the magistrate to her left and Mazarin to her right.
After giving grace, they began to feast. The magistrate would often lean over and ask if all was to her liking and if there was anything else he could have fetched for her: more food, more wine, more bards, etc. At a point his obsequiousness started to get on Henrietta's nerves, which was why she was very glad when the door to the dining hall was pushed open, and the voices of protesting servants came through the widening crack.
"Sir! Sir! You cannot go in there!"
Beside her, Mazarin scowled. Alex had finally returned, shrugging off a pair of servants who attempted to physically wrestle him back with ease. He kept walking forward, down the aisle, ignoring the stares of the knights, until he stopped in front of the dais. He stared up at them. No, at her. He ignored the others.
"I'm back," he said simply.
"Welcome back," Henrietta smiled and put up one hand to wave away the servants who continued to try to pull Alex away. "You were gone for a while. Did you manage to catch anything?"
"Too many," Alex replied. "Found a tribe of orcs living in the forest, so I killed them."
"Pardon," the magistrate interrupted. "Are you telling me that you've exterminated the orcs? All of them?"
"Yeah. That a problem?"
"To the contrary," the magistrate beamed. "You've done Aubergine an enormous favor. They've been making themselves a great nuisance as of late by preying on the merchants that pass through the road between here and Tristania. I've been having mercenaries cull their numbers, but they've hidden themselves too well and breed too fast." He turned to Henrietta. "Your Highness, you seem to be acquainted with this man. Who is he?"
Henrietta smiled, pleased by the magistrate's praise. "He is my familiar, Alex Mercer."
"Your familiar?" The magistrate blinked, then frowned thoughtfully. "Strange. He looks nothing like the stories I've heard."
"Proof that they are more fiction than fact," Henrietta remarked, giving Mazarin a sidelong yet pointed glance. "Pay no heed to them."
"As you say, Your Highness." The magistrate faced Alex. "Good familiar, for your services to Aubergine, I would give you a reward. Is there anything you want that is within my power to grant?"
"No."
"No, there is nothing you want or no what you want isn't within my power to grant?"
"I don't want anything."
"What about gold?"
"He lives with me," Henrietta laughed. "If he needs gold to buy something, I can buy it for him."
"Even so, it is shameful to not reward good service."
"Don't worry about it," Alex said. "I didn't do it for you or the town. I did it 'cause I wanted to."
"If that's how you feel," the magistrate said, frowning.
"By the by," Henrietta said. "If you could have a room prepared for Alex, I would be most appreciative of that."
"At once." The magistrate beckoned over a servant and whispered into her ear. She bowed and left the dining hall.
"Alex," Henrietta said. "Will you sit and join us?"
"Pass," Alex waved a hand dismissively. "I'll be outside."
For an hour more they continued to feast, the knights laughing and reveling with the good, rich food and music. But soon, trained though they were, the effects of the long ride were beginning to show. More than a few of them began to nod off where they sat, and the feast was declared over soon after. Most of the knights headed back to the camp to rejoin the others and rest for the night. Only thirty remained to continue serving as Henrietta's guards.
"Your Highness," the magistrate said. "Allow me to show you to your room."
"If you could send for a servant to do so, that will suffice," Henrietta said. "I'd like to go see to Alex first."
"As you command, Your Highness."
Henrietta found Alex sitting on the porch, staring up at the evening sky. She watched him from the doorway for a moment, wondering what he was thinking. His face betrayed no emotion, a completely neutral mask that one might have been forgiven for thinking was boredom, if not for the intense concentration in his eyes. She glanced behind her and silently waved away the magistrate, her guards, and Mazarin, who said nothing. Ever since that day Henrietta put her foot down and told him that she would no longer tolerate being a prisoner to his overbearing paranoia in regards to Alex, he refrained from speaking of the subject. Sir Marrok and the other knights assigned to her still followed her, but no longer was it to "protect" her from Alex.
Henrietta followed Alex's gaze upwards, wondering what it was that captivated him so. The stars at this time of night were always lovely, like little diamonds scattered upon a sheet of black velvet, but he wasn't the type to appreciate such beauty. Rather than the stars, what he was staring at were the twin moons.
An inexplicable urge seized her then. She walked forward silently, and when she was only inches away from Alex's back, she reached down and poked him in the back of the head with her finger. He grunted, and Henrietta giggled, and she prodded him again.
"What?" he finally said.
"Nothing," Henrietta smiled as she sat down beside him and joined him in watching the moonlit sky. "I just felt like doing it."
Alex growled wordlessly.
"It's a pleasant evening, is it not?" Henrietta commented. "I always love seeing the full moons, though I suspect you are watching them for another reason."
"Not really. It's just weird seeing two moons in the sky."
"Does your world not have two?"
"No. Just one."
"How truly bizarre," Henrietta frowned. She could not imagine a world with only a single moon. It was said that the ocean's tides was dependent on the movement of the moons, so what happened when there was only one?
Alex snorted and gave her a look that said he was thinking something similar.
"Speaking of which, I'd like to ask you something," Henrietta said.
"Hm?"
"Does your world have any orcs?"
"No. Not in real life, anyway."
"Oh." Henrietta frowned. "Well, if that's true, then how did you know what the monsters you hunted were? I've never told you about them, and I can't see how you might have heard about them elsewhere."
Alex paused and frowned for a moment. "There's a lot of different depictions of orcs in fantasy stories in my world," he explained at last. "The ones I killed here kind of resembled a few of them, so I guessed that's what they were."
"I see," Henrietta nodded. "You didn't hurt yourself, did you? Orcs are a most brutish species. What they lack in intellect, they make up for in raw savagery and brute strength."
"They were big, fat, and slow," Alex snorted. "I'm used to a lot more than them."
"Perhaps we ought to get you into the monster extermination business," Henrietta teased lightly. "We could make a lot of money from your work."
"Don't need any money."
"Yes, you've made that quite clear," Henrietta laughed. "It was only a thought." There was a silence then, as Henrietta let her chuckles die into the cool air. She did not speak again for nearly ten minutes. "Well, I should go to sleep. We must leave early in the morn. What will you do?"
"Go to my room and wait, I guess."
"Is there anything that I can have brought for you to help pass the time?"
"I'm fine. I'll just lie down and relax for a while."
"Very well, then," Henrietta nodded. "Good night, Alex."
"Yeah. You too."
Henrietta left Alex and went back inside. He chose to stay on the porch for a while longer. She followed the servant that was waiting for her inside by the door (the poor girl had almost dozed off where she stood. Oops.) upstairs to her provided chambers. Once inside, she stripped off her dress, changed into her night shifts, splashed some of the water in the basin by the door on her face, dried off, and then lied down to sleep.
Sleep came easily to her that night; her dreams, less so. In her dream, she was seven again, and she was waiting for her beloved Prince Wales by Ragdorian Lake. It was night out, and the moons were full and bright, shining in a cloudless sky. She glanced over her shoulder fervently, into an endless dark expanse that she somehow knew was both a forest and the unimagined ends of her dreamworld.
She was feeling fear. She was afraid that someone would find her out here and bring her back inside to the mansion by the lake, which had transformed into a tall, twisting spire, bent and protruding with spikes all over its surface. Hours passed, yet only seconds passed, and just as Henrietta turned to leave, she knew there was someone behind her with the certainty only a dreamer could know.
She turned. To her great delight, Prince Wales had come. He was not the child she remembered from her youth, but as she had last seen him, a man grown, resplendent in glory and courtesy. And then she too was her grown self, and too again she was a child. He held out his hand, and she reached up, reached forward, to take it in hers.
His mouth opened and moved. No words came out as he began to lead her away, but she knew what he was saying anyway, and she could only laugh and cry out in delight.
They plunged into that blackness, light coming from both of them to illuminate their way. Somewhere in that endless dark they threw aside their crowns, it clattering loudly on and on and on until it became dim and quiet and silent as they pressed onward. Then the darkness faded away, and they were in a glade surrounded by tall pine trees. Birds chirped a soft soundless song somewhere from the branches. Wales gently pulled her to the small wooden cabin standing at the center of the glade. He opened the door, and they went in. He pulled her close and kissed her, long and sweet and full of love.
And she was happy.
That moment seemed to stretch on forever, and Henrietta was content to let it stay that way. But then Prince Wales's mouth became rough and tasted of oil and leather. She tried to bear with it, but the taste of it was too strong, and finally she tried to recoil away from him, but he seized her and brought her closer again.
When Henrietta's eyes snapped open, she found the eyes of an unfamiliar man staring back down at her.
"Mmmph!" she tried to scream, only to find that her mouth had been muffled by the man's gloved hand. Her right hand scrabbled around her nightstand, seeking her wand, but the man grabbed her by the wrist and pinned her down. Her body now pumping with adrenaline and her eyes accustomed to the darkness, Henrietta became aware that her assailant was not alone. There were three others with him, painting darker shadows in the dark room. One pulled out a knife from his belt and stepped over to her, and her eyes widened. "Mmmph! Mmmmph!" Panic seized her. She flailed around wildly, trying to push the man off her. From outside in the hallway, someone knocked on the door.
"Princess?" the knight on duty said. "Are you all right?"
The man on top of her glanced briefly at the door. Without thinking, without even recognizing it as an opportunity, Henrietta struck. She jammed her thumb into the man's eye, and he grunted and pulled back away from her.
"HELP!" Henrietta screamed at the top of her lungs.
Smooth as cats, two of the assailants pulled away from her bed and positioned themselves by the door. When it slammed open and the knights came rushing in, they each seized one and slit their throats in a single deft movement.
Henrietta ran for the only way out: the window. It was already opened, and somewhere in the back of her mind, Henrietta realized that this was how these assassins had entered her room. But before she could get very far, the last assassin had interposed himself between her and her escape. She retreated a step, backing into the man whose eye she had gouged before. He was still holding one hand over that eye, but even so Henrietta could see that he was most wroth. He seized her with his free hand and roughly threw her to the ground. She cried out. One foot slammed down on her side, and she felt a rib break, causing tears to squeeze out of her eyes, and the air in her lungs to escape through her mouth.
"Hurry up," one assassin said to the one looming over her. "We don't have much time left."
"I know." He crouched down and planted his knee where his foot had been, eliciting fresh pain. He seized Henrietta by the hair and pulled hard, revealing her pale throat. His knife came closer. Henrietta whispered, with tears in her eyes, "Please, don't."
And then the entire left wall exploded into a thousand splinters as Alex came crashing through.
His actions were frighteningly swift, as if he didn't need to think, as if he had already planned out what he was going to do. As soon as he burst into the room, he leaped forward and grabbed the assassin on Henrietta and pulled him, and his knife, away from her. With a single arm, Alex threw the assassin across the room with such force that he broke through the opposite wall, and the wall past that. Even without being able to see his body, Henrietta knew that the man had died on impact.
"You bastards," Alex snarled. "You fucking bastards. I'll kill you!"
The fight was as short as it was brutal.
The assassin by the window was Alex's next target, as he was within arm's reach. Alex grabbed him by the wrist and jerked him closer. Then he wrapped one hand around the crown of the man's skull, his fingers lengthening into long claws to properly grip the head, while the other dug in deep into the man's collarbone. The assassin screamed as Alex ripped his head off in a shower of blood and gore, splashing Henrietta with it from where she lay on the ground, her eyes wide and afraid.
The third assassin was in a similar state of emotion as her, yet he took a fighting stance with two knives in his hands. But he could not have predicted Alex's next action then, for instead of trying to close the gap between them, Alex transformed his other arm into a long bladed tentacle, tipped at the end with two barbed, foot-long spikes. This deadly organic whip flew across the room in less than a second, punching a hole straight through the assassin's belly, who looked down in slow, horrified wonder. A twitch of his arm sent an undulating wave along the bladed length, bisecting the assassin at the waist, and he saw no more.
The last assassin tried to run. That was sensible of him. The window was guarded by Alex, so he could not escape through there. Instead, he tried to leave through the hallway, only to be stopped by the knights and the household guards who had come rushing to the scene.
"Surrender, now," Sir Marrok commanded as he and a dozen other knights pointed their sword-wands at him.
The assassin looked around, saw that he was surrounded, looked back in the room, saw Alex approaching, and hastily threw down his weapons and raised his hands in the air. But when a knight stepped forward to take him into custody, Alex roughly pushed him aside and grabbed the assassin by the collar, lifting him a foot into the air.
"Familiar!" Mazarin cried out. Henrietta stood up with teetering steps, holding one hand where her ribs were broken and throbbing. The cardinal had come with the knights to see what was going on. "Let him go. We need him alive for questioning."
"Shut up!" Alex snarled and threw the assassin on the ground, before mounting him and bringing his fists down repeatedly on the man's face. In an instant, he had painted the floor crimson, and wet red strings were attaching themselves from the man's face to Alex's fist and torso. These strings became thicker, and then pulled in the man's entire body into Alex's own. Almost immediately after, Alex's bloodstained hands wrapped around his head and he cried out in anguish, his head and hands rolling this way and that, his eyes squeezed shut, as though he was suffering from a most debilitating migraine. And then seconds later, just as quickly as it happened, he stopped. He stood up, his expression murderous. "Ingemar," he growled.
Without another word, Alex turned abruptly back into Henrietta's room. Some of the knights behind him seemed to move to stop him, but then hesitated and stopped before they could. Alex walked past Henrietta, towards the open window.
"Alex," Henrietta whispered as he put one foot on the windowsill to jump out. "What did you do?"
He stopped and looked at her. The fiery anger that had consumed him mere seconds ago had burnt away, leaving only a cold rage in its wake.
"I'm going to find the one who sent these bastards," Alex growled. "And I'm going to kill him."