Disclaimer: I do not own most of the characters nor most of the settings.
Although Nelyra and Kay are mine.
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Nelyra walked into the Dancing Dove as the city bell in the square struck nine o'clock. She glanced around the room. A small altar to the Crooked God above a card table made her smile. She walked up to the ale barrel and after taking a tankard from a shelf, poured some of the foamy liquid into the cup. She loved the Dove. It was home. The thief's life fit her well, just like the leather belt and knife sheath around her waist as well as the sharp blade in it. She emptied her tankard when shouter from upstairs awoke her from her drowsy state. She ran up the stairs two at a time, coming face to face with Gray.
"Cain't talk no sense into that lad," Gray mumbled. "Don't know why he was made King." Turning to Nelyra he said: "His Majesty wants ye. Better run lass, he be in a fit if ye don't."
"Thanks, Gray," Nelyra shouted as she ran to Kay's room.
The door opened as she came towards it.
"Nelly, come in, I was just about to call for you," Kay said as he held the door open for her to come through.
Nelyra glanced around the room as she sat down. It was very neat except for several rolls of parchment on the desk behind which he sat.
"To put things in their abbreviated form.help," he said glancing over the pieces of parchment. "A couple of the lads raided a small party outside Corus. When they searched the robes of the, now dead, members of the party, they found this." He handed her one of the scrolls. It had a broken, black seal on it. "Read it," Kay ordered.
" 'Sarcen, Both of our forces are assembled at Fief Akirem. We have a combined force of 2000 men and 100 horses. We will march to your camp five days before Mabon. Your force must surround the palace before the peace talks. Ahtgan will take care of the king. Like the Tortallans say, Mithros Bless! Tortall will have a new king'" Nelyra placed the letter onto the table. "This is crazy, sheer insanity," she commented.
"Tell me something I don't know," Kay retorted. "The question is, what are we going to do about it? We can't ignore this. If it isn't a horrible prank, all of Tortall is in danger. But if we decide to contact the king-."
"Who will believe us?! They would rather stuff us into a cage than believe us! We are all on the Provost's wanted list!"
"Nelyra, stop yelling! I asked you for advice and all I'm getting is criticism!"
"Fine."
"Thank you."
"I ain't helpin' no nobles."
"Quit the fake, street accent."
"I'm leaving."
"Go right ahead."
"Thank you!"
"You're welcome!"
Nelyra slammed the door behind her.
Kay stared at the door. He briefly saw small, lilac and white flashes on the normally gray iron handle. A smile spread on his lips. "So she does have a Gift," he murmured. "The door shone with violet light veined with white. It rattled loudly and fell of the hinges. "All right, she has a very large Gift."
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Nelyra walked into the Dancing Dove as the city bell in the square struck nine o'clock. She glanced around the room. A small altar to the Crooked God above a card table made her smile. She walked up to the ale barrel and after taking a tankard from a shelf, poured some of the foamy liquid into the cup. She loved the Dove. It was home. The thief's life fit her well, just like the leather belt and knife sheath around her waist as well as the sharp blade in it. She emptied her tankard when shouter from upstairs awoke her from her drowsy state. She ran up the stairs two at a time, coming face to face with Gray.
"Cain't talk no sense into that lad," Gray mumbled. "Don't know why he was made King." Turning to Nelyra he said: "His Majesty wants ye. Better run lass, he be in a fit if ye don't."
"Thanks, Gray," Nelyra shouted as she ran to Kay's room.
The door opened as she came towards it.
"Nelly, come in, I was just about to call for you," Kay said as he held the door open for her to come through.
Nelyra glanced around the room as she sat down. It was very neat except for several rolls of parchment on the desk behind which he sat.
"To put things in their abbreviated form.help," he said glancing over the pieces of parchment. "A couple of the lads raided a small party outside Corus. When they searched the robes of the, now dead, members of the party, they found this." He handed her one of the scrolls. It had a broken, black seal on it. "Read it," Kay ordered.
" 'Sarcen, Both of our forces are assembled at Fief Akirem. We have a combined force of 2000 men and 100 horses. We will march to your camp five days before Mabon. Your force must surround the palace before the peace talks. Ahtgan will take care of the king. Like the Tortallans say, Mithros Bless! Tortall will have a new king'" Nelyra placed the letter onto the table. "This is crazy, sheer insanity," she commented.
"Tell me something I don't know," Kay retorted. "The question is, what are we going to do about it? We can't ignore this. If it isn't a horrible prank, all of Tortall is in danger. But if we decide to contact the king-."
"Who will believe us?! They would rather stuff us into a cage than believe us! We are all on the Provost's wanted list!"
"Nelyra, stop yelling! I asked you for advice and all I'm getting is criticism!"
"Fine."
"Thank you."
"I ain't helpin' no nobles."
"Quit the fake, street accent."
"I'm leaving."
"Go right ahead."
"Thank you!"
"You're welcome!"
Nelyra slammed the door behind her.
Kay stared at the door. He briefly saw small, lilac and white flashes on the normally gray iron handle. A smile spread on his lips. "So she does have a Gift," he murmured. "The door shone with violet light veined with white. It rattled loudly and fell of the hinges. "All right, she has a very large Gift."