Chapter 12

The entire day went by, and Achmed never returned. Rhapsody was starting to get worried, but Grunthor assured her that he would probably not return that night. "'Is 'ighness is probably scoutin' out the tent to make sure the culprit don' return."

"I know, but I am a bit worried about him."

"Don't worry Mother, Achmed is certainly able to take care of himself. Now you should get to bed, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow," Meridion chimed.

"Yes, of course. Good night Grunthor," she said as she rose and put her arms around him as far as they would go.

"Good night Duchess."

"Good night my son." And with that, she turned and left to settle for the night.

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Meanwhile, Achmed was also preparing to settle for the night. He was almost completely convinced that nothing was going to happen at that tent that would shed anymore light on the matter. But he was going to give it that night before giving up.

So he shifted a bit and settled into a slightly more comfortable position within his hiding place. And continued to wait.

He saw a light lit inside the tent and was able to observe the lady moving about inside. He watched her for a long time, wondering if she was ever planning on going to bed. But then he remembered that he had observed that she more than likely had some amount of Lirin blood in her and so would require little sleep.

Must be nice, he thought to himself as he felt his eyes becoming heavy with weariness. He had gotten so little rest in the last few months and now staying up all through the night was strain on his body that was nearing pushing him over an edge.

And so, it was only an hour or two off of dawn that he was about ready to give up and return for those two hours of sleep.

Just then, something happened inside the tent. The girl had been sitting at a chair, not far from the deathbed of the duke. She had been completely alone throughout the night with no one coming or going in or out of the tent. But now, there was somebody else in the tent. It seemed as if a man had sat up right from the bed itself. But that could not be possible. Unless…

Suddenly, Achmed knew why Tristan's death had felt so wrong. He had not really died.

That was the form of Tristan moving about inside that tent. He had faked his own death, but for what reason. If he had been trying to escape and start some new life, the girl would have had his body taken away immediately. All that this seemed to do would be to trick the moot into thinking he was dead when he wasn't, and what good would that do for him? He was always after more power and if it was thought that he was dead, then how could he gain anymore power?

Then Achmed remembered what happened the last time a man faked his death. Rhapsody had been the herald of the death of the former invoker, Llauron. When she discovered that his death had been a fake, she had been crushed and convinced that her lie had discredited her. And that was what Tristan was after.

An election for Lord Cymrian was to be held tomorrow. If Tristan showed up tomorrow before the election but after the announcement of his death, Rhapsody would loose credit with the Cymrians, and as a result, so would her son. This would put Tristan in a better position for the election.

Achmed was fuming at this. He had hated it tremendously when Llauron and his son had schemed against her and hurt her so deeply with their lies. Now Tristan was pulling the same thing on her but on an even larger scale. Llauron had, in a sense, died. He had just had to kill off his human body in order to change into the elemental dragon that he wished to become. Tristan is not in any way shape or form dead. Also, Rhapsody had told one person of the death who then told the rest of the world. This time, the whole world would be hearing it directly from her, she who had pledged to speak only the truth.

As these thoughts coursed through his mind, Achmed hardly even realized that he had removed himself from his hiding place and was making his way down to the tent. He had left his cwellian and sword back in his chambers with the rush of the morning, but he had drawn his dagger and was ready to gut that man alive for what he was trying to do.

But, before he reached the tent he realized that he needed to take Tristan alive in case that this was part of a larger plan. The man may be working for someone else and, given the right motivation, he may be able to lead Achmed to them.

It was then that the King stormed the room where the duke had previously been found "dead." He found Tristan alive and well, in a fresh set of cloths walking from his bedroom in the back to his desk. The man was completely taken unawares as the King stormed up to him and placed the dagger against his throat.

"Do you know how tempted I am to make your staged death a reality?" Achmed growled in a deadly voice to the man.

Tristan trembled as Achmed moved to stand behind him, the dagger still firmly pressed up against the throat.

Leaning to whisper in his ear Achmed continued, "You don't deserve to live. You're already thought to be dead; no one would miss you if I ended it here."

Somehow, through all his shaking and quivering, Tristan found a voice and screamed, "Guards!"

Before Achmed could do anything else, the room was filled with five burly body guards who quickly formed a half circle around the two men. Two aimed crossbows at the king while the other three had drawn swords.

"You kill me, my men will kill you," Tristan sneered.

"It just might be worth it," he whispered for the duke's ear alone before saying to the others, "Come any closer and I'll slit his throat."

The men looked to their leader, trying to decide what to do. A silent stand off lasted for a few moments. But then, suddenly, a loud shattering crash sounded as a splitting pain lashed through Achmed's head. Leah had crept up behind him with a large vase and had struck him over the head.

Achmed stumbled for a second as he fought off unconsciousness that tried to take him over. In his brief moment of weakness, Tristan grabbed the King's arm and pushed it far enough away from his throat to get away before slamming the blade into Achmed's own shoulder.

It was the biting pain of the dagger that brought Achmed back to his senses enough to realize that Tristan was now safe behind his screen of men. Quickly, he yanked the blade from his arm and threw it at the nearest crossbow man. The blade buried itself deep into the man's chest and he crumpled to the floor, causing the bow to fire as he hit. The bolt sprang from the bow and in return, burrowed into Achmed's leg. Cursing, he fell to the floor as the other man fired his bow. The bolt slashed through the air, passing through where Achmed had just been and finding the new target of Leah's chest.

In the confusion of this, Achmed had rolled to where the first bowman had fallen and drew the man's sheathed sword. He turned as another man bore down on him with his own sword. The King trust his new prize deep in the unprotected gut of the attacker before yanking the blade out and rising to slash the eyes of the next man.

Spinning around as agony flashed through his leg, arm and head, he found the bowman aiming another bolt. Again he dropped to his knees and rolled but the other guard was where he wanted to be. He slashed as the man's unprotected legs, but the agile and unwounded guard side stepped the wild thrust easily. But now Achmed once again found himself near the body of the first guard that he brought down with his dagger. Reaching out and yanking the blade from the man's chest, quickly he shifted the sticky blade in his hand and let fly at the other bowman. The blade brought down its second man as Achmed stood and faced the last remaining people in the room.

Now, only one guard and Tristan remained. The duke stared wild eyed from behind his desk as the final guard faced the injured king. Achmed was tired and unable to move his left arm at all. His right leg shot pains through him with every movement and his head was still clouded and full of pain. Not to mention the blood that ran down both his arm and leg.

If it weren't for these things, Achmed could have easily finished this last man off with little effort, but as it was, it was a bit of a fight to get him down. In the process, the King took a rake of the blade across his chest before finally decapitating the guard and ending the fight.

Tristan was still behind his desk, looking for a way out but found none. The wounded and wearied king turned to the man and glared at him with fire and rage. "If you don't want to end up like your men, I suggest sitting in that chair and allowing me to tie you to it," he growled.

Obediently, Tristan did just that. For being in such pain, Achmed made quick work of his restraining. "Now, you wait here for someone to come and get you. I will be seeing you again soon." With that the king turned and hurried as best he could out of the tent.

As he stepped outside, he saw that the first rays of sunlight were just poking themselves over the horizon. Then he heard a sound that chilled his heart where it would usually lift his spirits. It was the sound of Rhapsody beginning her aubade. Soon more voices added to hers, singing a greeting to the rising sun. Achmed knew that as soon as she finished this song, Rhapsody would tell Tristan's death and even if Tristan was now there to confess to the trickery, Rhapsody will still have told a lie. She would never forgive herself and it could destroy her.

Quickly, Achmed bent over and painfully pulling the arrow that was still in his leg out before turning and going as fast as he could to the moot. It was some distance off and he feared that he would never reach the place in time.

Just then, a rider could be seen in the distance, bearing down on his position. As he neared, Achmed could see that the rider was none other than Gwydion Navarne. Hailing him, Achmed shouted to hurry over.

When the duke reached the king's side, he rapidly dismounted, talking as his did so, "My god, Achmed! What happened to you?"

"Never mind," he snapped. "I have to get to the moot now. Give me your horse and you go to the tent and get Tristan to the moot as well. He has crimes to answer for." And without any more explanation, Achmed painfully mounted the horse and was gone before Gwydion even knew what had happened.

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Even atop a speeding horse, Achmed doubted that he would reach Rhapsody in time. He could hear the song nearing the end when he reached the base of the ledge that lead up to her position of the speaker's place. The horse, he knew could not make it up the steep climb and he was had to climb up it himself.

Nearly falling off of the horse, the King forced himself up the grade, pushing himself to his limits. The song ended and he was only half way up. He could hear her bringing the moot to a start. He was three quarters of the way up when he heard her introing her bad news. With a last burst of energy he rushed up the last few steps nearly collapse on the ledge itself.

"Rhapsody, stop!" he screamed at her with what strength he had left.

She stopped in mid-sentence, just about to announce the death of Tristan. "My gods! Achmed!" she exclaimed as she rushed to where he knelt at the top of the stairs. He was swaying and was about to topple over as she reached his side. "Achmed, what happened?"

"Tristan… alive," he gasped. "Trick… Gwydion will... bring him," was all that he could manage. Grunthor was pushing his way to Achmed's side, murder in his eyes over the condition that he saw him to be in.

It took a moment for Rhapsody to comprehend what Achmed had just told her. Then suddenly she understood what she had just about done again. "Gods, thank you Achmed." She said. Then, turning to the rapidly approaching Grunthor she said, "Take him to the Cauldron, I'll be right behind you."

As soon as she left the king in Grunthor's capable hands, Rhapsody turned back to the unsettled crowd. Just then, Meridion was at her side. He had quickly run up to her as soon as he had seen Achmed.

"Mother, what…" he began before she cut him off with a wave.

Anger flowed out of her eyes as she moved up to address the crowd once again. "It seems that there is a serpent among us," she started. "King Achmed has risked his life to uncover a conspiracy to deceive and bring down this counsel.

'Apparently, Tristan Steward has attempted to fake his own death for whatever reason. Gwydion Navarne is bringing the fraud as we speak. When he arrives, I will turn over this counsel to my son, Meridion, to publicly interrogate Tristan to discover what it was that he was trying to do and to decide his form of punishment. I must go and attend to the Firbolg king."

And with that, she stepped back and allowed Meridion who had come to her side while she talked, to take over. Quickly and without anymore preface, she turned and followed her two oldest friends back to the Cauldron.