Chapter 16

There was a moment of stunned silence as Henrietta stared at Lady Joanna. Something hard and painful seem to form in her chest, and it was only a few seconds later that Henrietta realized that her breathing had stopped. As she finally took in a breath, she noticed that her heart was pounding loudly in her ears.

"Ingemar," Henrietta repeated, licking her suddenly dry lips. "You say that he's here?"

"Yes," Lady Joanna nodded. "After you told me of your troubles, I sent some of my men to... retrieve him. It seems he was attempting to flee the country when they managed to find him. No doubt he feared the justice he so richly deserves."

"I would like to see him," Henrietta said immediately. "No, I must see him. There are so many things I need to know."

"I thought you might," Lady Joanna said. "He's being kept in the dungeons at present. If you'll return to the great hall with my lord husband, however, I shall have him brought before you."

Henrietta agreed, and together with her knights and Prince Arduin, they went back to the great hall and waited. Cardinal Mazarin was called to attend as well. Shortly thereafter, Lady Joanna returned. Behind her was a man dirty with sweat and grime. He had an iron collar around his neck and four long poles were attached to it. Each pole was held firmly at its end by a soldier, who would use it to drag and prod the prisoner forward. He nearly stumbled every time they did this, as his wrists and ankles were shackled together by manacles and a long chain.

Seeing Henrietta waiting for him seemed to frighten Ingemar. He lurched backwards with eyes wide, but was forced to continue onward by the soldiers. He glanced feverishly to the left and right as his tongue flickered out to moisten his dry lips.

Ingemar was stopped fifteen paces away from Henrietta – a safe distance, just to be sure. Still, her knights took up position between the two of them, and only then were the poles at last removed from the nobleman's collar. To Henrietta's surprise, Ingemar immediately fell upon the ground and prostrated himself before her as well as his chains would allow. Henrietta couldn't see the man's face, but she could see his entire body tremble feverishly as he spoke.

"Your Highness," he said, "I swear I was about to leave the country, just as you ordered. I had no intention of remaining here, I swear it."

"Just as I ordered?" Henrietta arched an eyebrow. "What are you talking about, sir?"

"It... it wasn't you who sent your familiar after me?" Ingemar said, tentatively raising his head and glancing around the hall again. "I mean... I assumed... Founder, that monster isn't here, is he?"

"Stop," Henrietta ordered him. It was strange. She had been nervous, perhaps even scared of meeting the man who may have ordered her death, but seeing how much more scared he was of her filled her with a sense of power and courage. False courage, perhaps, but she found her words coming out easily and confidently just the same. "Stand up. I can hardly hear you speak." Ingemar stood, though he continued to fidget constantly. "Now tell me everything, from the beginning. Why did you send the assassins after me? And how is it that you met my familiar?"

"Y-yes, Your Highness," Ingemar said. "The assassins was not by my choice, I confess. Someone – I know not who, for they would not give me their name – coerced me into doing so. The only thing I know is that he is of foreign blood and is likely residing in Hessan, which I know because he wore a ring bearing the mark of Tobias of Gimsburg. As for how I met your familiar, he invaded my home four days past, killed my men and the knight whom I employed, and asked me the same question as you did just now, to which I answered the same."

"Four days ago, you say?" Henrietta said. "That's impossible."

"I swear I'm telling you the truth, Your Highness," Ingemar said so quickly that a bit of spittle went flying in front of him. "I... I swear I'm not lying. I swear it by the Founder."

Henrietta pursed her lips tightly together and said nothing, so in that silence Mazarin spoke instead.

"Why would the princess's familiar let you live?" he said. "I can't imagine that you would hold any other value to it after you gave it what it wanted."

"He let me live as a warning," Ingemar said. "He wanted me to spread a message."

"What message?"

Ingemar glanced back over to Henrietta and licked his lips again. "He said that the Princess Henrietta is now under his protection, and that he will kill anyone who tries to hurt her, even if that person is a king or an emperor."

Henrietta sucked in a breath and her eyes went wide. Oh, Alex, she thought. What have you done?

She glanced to the side, and saw that Mazarin had undergone a similar reaction.

As the soldiers reattached the poles to Ingemar's collar and dragged him out of the room, Prince Arduin turned to Henrietta and said, "He may yet be hiding other information from us. If he is, I'll be sure to have them extracted from him."

"Yes, thank you."

"Pardon me, Your Highness," Lady Joanna said. "But is there some significance to how many days ago Ingemar met your familiar?"

"I am not sure," Henrietta admitted. "It's just that the assassins attacked me less than five days ago. If what Ingemar says is true, then it took Alex but a single night to track him down. Where does Ingemar live? I can't imagine it to be very close to Aubergine, else the magistrate there would have heard of him."

"To be sure," Prince Arduin nodded. "He lives much further north, on a small yet fertile plot of land I enfeoffed upon him a few years ago. By foot it would take weeks to get from Aubergine to his manor, and by horse it would still take many days."

"It boggles the mind to imagine that your familiar could make such a journey in a single night," Lady Joanna mused. Then she smiled. "However, he seems like quite the dedicated familiar to go so far out of his way to safeguard his master's life. I wonder if we'll get the chance to meet him before all this is done?"

"Perhaps," Henrietta said, averting her eyes. "Forgive me, Your Excellency, my lady, but I think I wish to go and rest now. Suddenly, I feel quite overcome by exhaustion."

"I understand, Your Highness," Prince Arduin said. "If there is anything we can do for you, please do not hesitate to ask."

The palace of Wesboden was even larger than the one at Tristania, but what it had in size it lacked in the latter's elegance and grandeur. It was a fortress, emphasizing functionality over form. Set upon a steep hill, its thick sloped walls were deeply entrenched into the earth to deflect cannon fire, while hundreds of cannons peered out ominously between the crenelated parapets. There were no moats, but a ring of wooden spikes had been placed all a short distance away from the base of the walls. The gate was made out of thick oak and bound in solid steel.

Wonder how much it cost to build all this? Alex mused, as his eyes scanned the battlements from a far distance in the city below.

There were surprisingly few soldiers on the walls given the size of the palace, but what few there were had been expertly placed so as to maximize their field of vision. Moreover, there were no buildings within a half-mile radius of the walls. It was impossible to approach them unseen in broad daylight, yet neither did Alex have the time to wait until night to sneak in quietly.

Perhaps a more direct approach, then?

No, he didn't want to tip his target off too soon, if he could help it. There were still other avenues to consider first.

For instance, if not over, then what about under the walls? For a palace of this size, its sewage system would have to be large and fairly sophisticated. It needed to be able to drain all its waste away from the palace to a nearby river so that it could be flushed away. If he could find that exit point, he would have his way into the palace.

There were two rivers near Wesboden. The first ran directly through the center of the city, but it was used by the people as a source of drinking water, which made it unsuitable for the palace's sewage. If they were using it, Alex had no doubt that the city would be terribly sick with cholera and other illnesses, but on his way here they had all seemed quite healthy. The second river ran outside the city's walls, roughly a mile away. That was where Alex went.

It did not take him long to arrive at the river, and only a little longer to find what he was looking for. At the closest point of the river to the city, Alex found a gated pipe. It was large enough to fit a man if he bent at the waist, but Alex couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he ought to take the direct approach after all. He wrinkled his nose. The smell here was bad enough that he had to temporarily remove his own sense of smell.

"It's just biomass," Alex grumbled to himself, as he climbed into the pipe. His foot made a wet, squelching noise as it sank knee deep into a dark pile of sludge. "Just dirty, fucking biomass."

For half an hour or more, Alex crawled through the pipe. There was no light here, so he had to rely on his sense of touch to guide his way. Eventually, his path began to take a steeper upward slope, until it eventually went completely vertical. At the top of the chute was the opening he needed, and a light that was soon covered by an ominous shadow.

Alex heard someone grunt, and his eyes widened in a horrified realization.

"If you shit on me, I will fucking kill you," Alex growled.

Whoever was sitting on the toilet immediately lurched back to their feet, letting light shine down on Alex again.

"Who's there?" that person said. "Who said that? Are... are you a ghost?"

"Yeah, sure," Alex grunted, as he sank his fingers into the side of the chute and began climbing upwards. "Let's go with that."

The opening for the chute was too small for Alex to fit through, so he had to compress his own body in order to slide out. As he did and retook his normal form, he saw a man dressed in fine clothes staring at him with his pants down by his ankles. Alex glanced at his hair, clicked his tongue when he saw it was black, and said, "Put your fucking pants back on."

"S-sp...!" the man tried to scream, only to be silenced when Alex's hand snaked out and wrapped around his mouth. He spluttered and clawed at Alex's arm, trying to free himself, until all his efforts suddenly ceased. His eyes went down to where four black tendrils, growing out of Alex's torso, had impaled his body. Alex could feel something warm and wet splatter the palm of his hand. Then he consumed him.

After taking a minute to painfully process his newly acquired memories, Alex transformed into the man he had just eaten and stepped out of the restroom. He walked down the halls, nodding politely at a few of the guards he passed by, and went up to the third floor of the palace. As he came to a stop in front of a door, he looked around to make sure no one was watching before knocking on it and entering after being given permission.

Alex's lips instinctively curled into a snarl when he saw the blond man, Jonathon Seymour, sitting behind a wooden desk. Fortunately, Jonathon was too busy writing something down to notice, and Alex quickly regained control of himself.

At last, Jonathon looked up at Alex.

"Kurt. Did you need something?" He sniffed. "And what is that awful smell?"

"I wanted to ask you about a rumor I recently heard," Alex said. "They say you had assassins sent after Princess Henrietta."

Jonathon froze. His eyes narrowed at Alex as he slowly rose to his feet.

"Where did you hear that?" he demanded.

"So it's true."

"It's not a matter a court painter like you should be involved in, much less know about," Jonathon said. "Now I'm going to ask again: where did you hear that?"

"From Ingemar," Alex said, before shedding his disguise and rushing forward, catching Jonathon before he could react. "And that was all I needed to know."

Without giving him a chance to reply, Alex threw Jonathon to the ground and stomped his foot straight through the man's chest. And as tendrils grew out from his leg and connected with the wide-eyed corpse, drawing it into his own body, Alex was once more racked with a terrible headache as the memories of another lifetime flooded into him. And when that was done, Alex snarled and swore.

"Shit!" he said, as he whirled about to look towards the south.

Everything had changed. He no longer had the time or the luxury to hunt down those whom Jonathon had served. They had already gathered and were on the move.

They were marching for Vindobona.

He had to get there first and save Henrietta.