Chapter One: Dealings

As he entered the tavern, Prince Deniau of the Copper Isles looked about in distaste. Thick grime from a thousand dirty boots covered the wooden floor, and because the windows were clouded over with smoke stains and dust, the only light in the one-room building came from sputtering oil lanterns that swung from the rafters above the bar. Selecting an empty table in the corner, the prince pulled his shabby brown cloak more tightly around his body to ensure the finery he wore underneath would be concealed from prying eyes.

Looking around at the faces of the other patrons, Deniau smiled cruelly. Here was misery. Here was poverty. Here was... opportunity. Hopelessness hung thickly in the air as the poor and wretched of Port Legann came to the ramshackle tavern to slug down mugs of sour ale. Tortall is not quite the paradise that fool king would have the world believe, he thought. My lady maelstrom will rule quite easily amongst such discontent.

The heavy door of the tavern groaned as it was opened, and a squat man in a hooded woolen cloak stepped inside, carrying something of the chill autumn night with him. He made his way to the shadowed table where Deniau sat and sat down opposite the prince.

I believe I have something you want, my lord, came the man's throaty voice, his bloodshot eyes darting nervously around the room. He placed a oilcloth parcel onto the tabletop and Deniau nonchalantly slipped it inside of his cloak.

The prince then reached out and grasped the other man's wrist. Sickly green and yellow fire flowed briefly from his fingertips into the other man's skin. As he withdrew his hand, Deniau noted with satisfaction the measure of awe and fear coming from the pockmarked face of his companion. Your compliance is most appreciated, he said smoothly, and I await the results of your latest assignment with much eagerness. He stood and began to make his way toward the door when he turned back to smile at the older man. Uusoae be praised.


*******


Nearly a week later, Daine awoke earlier than usual to help the royal hostler, Stefan Groomsman, prepare the stables for the arrival of the new horses that the Horsemistress would bring later that evening. Although the two humans worked in relative silence, there was a comfortable, happy feeling in the air. They washed stalls and spread fresh hay tirelessly as the day went on, stopping only briefly when a thoroughly amused Black Robe Mage took a rest from his research for the king to bring them some lunch.

As the sky slowly began it's transformation from blue into red and gold, Stefan and Daine could hear the unmistakable rhythm of horse hooves coming through the palace gates. They hurried out into the hazy twilight to meet the herd.

Onua Chamtong let out a K'miri shout in greeting, and swung down from her stocky horse to go embrace her friends. Her hug for Daine was extra fierce, as she hadn't seen her young friend and former assistant since the girl's departure for Carthak.

Tell me everything! she said excitedly. There's rumors on the roads that there have been significant changes in the Carthaki government due to the meddlings of a certain Master Samalin and his student.

Daine blushed and ran a hand through her tangled hair. If I promise to tell you everything over supper, will you let me at least greet the herd?

Onua and Stefan laughed, and the three went into the corral to introduce themselves to the horses.


*******


As he tossed the messenger's scroll to the floor in frustration, King Jonathan of Tortall sank into an armchair and turned to look at his Champion wearily.

Fief Aili makes nine, he said. Nine fiefs in three days that have been attacked by this strain of raiders. The last two Rider groups sent out to the south have yet to send back word of their safety, and for some inexplicable reason our mages have not been able to make magical contact with any of the besieged cities.

Jonathan rose and went over to stand by the fireplace.

Alanna, I know you've all just arrived home only two days ago, but-

Jon, we are your advisors and Tortall's defenders. The Lioness crossed to the door of the king's study and opened it. I'll have the pages rouse everyone for a meeting first thing in the morning.

The king nodded, glad for Alanna's reaction, but also deeply disturbed at this new threat to his homeland. As the Lioness exited into the hall, Jonathan moved back to his cluttered desk to try and devise a plan of action.