4 – A Royal Seal of Approval
Capital City was a mass of fast running narrow streams as the drainage system struggled to cope with the unexpected deluge of the previous evening. Large drips and rivulets run over from clogged guttering, splashing on the wet cobbles, the moss between laden with the excess water.
The smell of damp horse manure hung heavy in the air along with the musty scent of spreading fungus growing within cracks in the walls of the older buildings. The city gardens were not too far off, so the sweet fragrance of fresh new blooms would soon be a welcome change to the rather malodorous smells of the old part of the city.
It was harvest time, therefore it would be busy that day. Traders would want their wares displayed and sold as soon as possible, especially in light of the heavy rain from the night before. They could not afford for their produce to go to waste, it had been a tough enough year as it was without added losses at market too.
The muffled sounds of stall holders' voices rose from the market area as Brigitte, a pretty housemaid from the Nightflame residence bustled along with a small platinum-haired boy in tow.
The boy's eyes were fixed on the small heels of Brigitte's boots as they click-clacked across the cobbles and around puddles. Her long woollen skirt hid them from his sight periodically as it swished back and forth with her quick strides.
Her attire was so commonplace for servants that he would have to keep watching her boots so not to lose her in the crowds once they hit the market. Her boots at least were special, different from most serving staff whose shoes were mainly plain black or brown. Brigitte's had decorative gold-coloured rims around the base of the heels; a gift from her beau who was a cobbler.
She had been sent on an errand by the head housekeeper, Mrs Dalton and asked to take Sauren with her so the rest of the staff could ensure the house was prepped properly for the master's return that evening. Sa'themar had sent word he would be arriving with guests and required dinner for six plus the guest rooms to be readied. As such, the young maid was scurrying along the side-streets to the market to purchase some fresh produce. She artfully dodged all the puddles, hitching her skirts just above her ankles to try to keep them dry.
Brigitte was Sauren's favourite. She was funny, kind and smuggled treats to him when the other servants weren't watching. But oh dear, when it was her turn to go to the market, she moved so quickly that his little legs had difficulty keeping up with her.
"Come along now, Sauren," she called over her shoulder. "Today is particularly busy. It won't do if I lose you."
"Please stop walking so fast then, Brigitte," the boy pleaded. He slipped on the wet cobbles but she turned and caught him before he fell.
She smiled at him, playfully tapping his nose with her forefinger. "Now don't you go falling in the mud neither, young man, or Mrs Dalton will have my hide."
The boy giggled as Brigitte made a show of placing an imaginary noose over her head and pulling it tight. She had a slightly bizarre sense of humour, but that was partly why he liked her too. All the other servants were so dull and serious and old.
Brigitte stood straight again and put out her hand to take Sauren's. The boy smiled and raised his hand towards hers.
"You would actually touch a half-breed?" A shadow fell over the two of them. Sauren glanced down at the puddle to their right. It rippled as a boot was planted in its centre. The wavering reflection showed a man clad in cloth britches, a linen shirt and a long butcher's apron.
Brigitte grabbed Sauren's hand and pulled him close to her, shielding him from the large figure blocking their way. The boy's fingers fisted in her skirts, a small whimper escaping his lips. The butcher was a scary looking man as was the two younger males beside him.
Half-breed. It was a term he had heard a few times when out in the city with his governess or one of his tutors. He didn't understand it or why it seemed such a dirty word going by the manner in which people said it. When he asked what it meant he was told not to bother about such things and hurry along.
"There is no need to be so rude, sir," Brigitte said in a nervous whisper.
The three males laughed, and the butcher slapped his cleaver against the flat of his hand.
"Rude?" he guffawed. "I'm just calling him what he is, a filthy half-breed."
"He is not filthy, and I object to you calling him a half-breed!" Brigitte defended.
"Really?" The man on the right grabbed Sauren's arm and yanked him away from the young maid. "It's only half human so what else would you call it!"
The little blond boy tried to lash out at his attacker, but the man was too big and strong and pulled him up off the ground.
"Put me down!" Sauren yelled repeatedly. His voice rose in panic as the brute pulled him further away from Brigitte. The boy was not for giving in and he punched at the man's arm and kicked out with his little feet hoping to hurt his assailant.
With a sharp jerk, he was cast down into the puddles and mud. Sauren landed heavily on his back, the impact caused the thick sludge to spatter upwards then cover his clothing in the glossy brown matter. His hair ended up matted with the mud, the blond strands adhering to his cheeks. The man stood over him laughing. "He looks real filthy to me!"
Brigitte rushed forward to reach Sauren but the second young man stepped forward and pushed her back, forcing her into the narrow close between the buildings. She tried to run forward again but he just blocked her path. "Sauren!" she called trying to beckon the boy.
The butcher grinned. "Stay with it," he said to the first hoodlum nodding his head towards Sauren. The man sneered as he brought his foot down on the boy's forearm pinning him to the ground.
Sauren watched helplessly as the butcher and the second man pushed Brigitte further along the close until they reached the yard at the end and disappeared around the corner.
He heard the young maid scream then the sound was muffled but no less desperate. He struggled against his captor's foot but all it did was result in the man pressing his foot down harder. Sauren winced.
Suddenly the butcher appeared back. There was fresh blood on the cleaver's edge. Sauren looked up the close; no sign of the other man.
"What the..." the one pinning Sauren down said in a hoarse whisper.
The butcher looked frantic, his eyes wild. "Quiet!" he growled.
The second man though was not for being silenced. "What have you done?"
The butcher was obviously flustered, but he eyed Sauren as the boy started flailing about in the mud again. His eyes hardened and he loomed over the muddied figure.
Instantly Sauren stopped struggling and stared up at the butcher, loathing written clearly in both parties faces. "As fer you, half-breed, if you ever mention this to anyone, then you'll be next for the block."
The third man suddenly appeared beside the other two. He was hastily tucking his shirt into his britches. Blood was smeared on his face, hands and shirt.
The boy's eyes also noticed scratch marks on his face and neck. He looked back at the butcher with an intensity unlike anything the man had seen in one so young. "One day..." Sauren started, his small voice loaded with venom. He never finished his sentence. The wooden end of the butcher's cleaver was brought down hard on the side of his head.
The boy's eyes turned lazily towards the courtyard at the end of the alleyway. He thought he saw movement but couldn't be sure. He hoped Brigitte was alright, but in his tiny heart he knew she had not fared well at the hands of their assailants.
He felt his body go limp and his eyes closed just before he fell sideways into the muddy puddle. His platinum hair fell over his face and soaked up the murk from the water clogged cobbles as complete blackness engulfed him.
"Sauren." A voice was luring him from the depths of unconsciousness. Swimming against the tide of darkness he forced his way up towards the sound of his name.
"Sauren. Wake up young man." The gentle tone of a woman's voice. Brigitte perhaps? Maybe she had escaped those men? He could feel his heart starting to pound – relief that his favourite maid, his friend, was perhaps in good health after all.
His lips parted slowly, feeling dry, they peeled open as he breathed her name. "Brigitte?"
Soft laughter. Slowly his eyes opened and a face hovered above him. It was out of focus, but he could still tell it was indeed a woman.
"It seems, young master Sauren, the wine was a little too much for you."
He felt fingertips trace across his brow and brush strands of hair to the side. There was something comforting in the touch. He moaned lightly.
"Oh, if only you weren't so young..." the voice said, almost distantly.
The corners of Sauren's eyes were crusted but he battled to open his eyes wide. The tone in that last utterance informed him this was not his favourite maid. As the residue of sleep left his eyes he focused on the visage of Queen Lianne.
It took a few moments scanning his immediate surroundings to realise he was in his own bedchamber at the Crimson Blade headquarters. How he arrived there was, however, questionable. But, the most apocryphal issue was the Queen's presence and the fact she was sitting on the edge of his bed.
"You – Your Majesty! I – I..." Never had Sauren felt so embarrassed nor so vulnerable as he did at that moment. The Queen's teasing laughter did not ease his angst.
Queen Lianne then almost purred as she continued combing his long platinum hair with her fingers. "Worry not young master Sauren. I merely offered to check on you before I leave the grounds."
"Check on me?" Sauren pushed himself up, his head swam and so did his focus. He grabbed his stomach as a small wave nausea washed over him. His brown eyes looked up from behind stray strands of platinum hair. Once more Queen Lianne brushed them aside.
"Yes," she said. "My son managed to get himself drunk once too. He is a little younger than you and his consumption was that of the scullery maid's hidden stash. She had been secreting the odd bottle away while carrying out her duties." She laughed, although there was a hint of smug satisfaction in the sound. "I fired her of course. Arthas however, well he was rather ill for a couple of days, but he was taught a lesson."
"Lesson?" Sauren asked. A small guffaw fell from his slightly sickly lips as his initial nervousness started to dissipate. With a measured degree of subtlety he glanced down. His physical adoration of the woman had not yet subsided, but judging by her demeanor and the underlying intent he sensed, it could be advantageous in more ways then one. "Never to drink again, I take it." He smirked.
The Queen smiled. "On the contrary. I have no problem with him having a drink, within reason of course. No, the lesson taught was that he should be careful with whom he played and with what toys are at their disposal. I had taken pity on the waif originally that's why I agreed to her employment, but as it turned out she was a vile little creature; I was glad to be rid of her."
She inched up on the bed, her eyes scanning Sauren's outline beneath the covers. Her eyes hovered over his hips for a moment before travelling up to meet his eyes. Her mouth twitched as she recognised agonised anticipation of a virginal young man. She held his gaze, enjoying the steady darkening of his eyes, the flush on his cheeks. The fact he did not avert his eyes however, surprised her somewhat. It was almost as if he was challenging her; or, she grinned a little hopefully, inviting her?
Momentarily thwarted, she turned. Grabbing the side of her gown she stepped up and moved away from the bed. A furtive glance over her shoulder told her he still watched her. This was intriguing. Normally, they would look away, embarrassed or uncertain. Sauren on the other hand, was strangely unperturbed for all his cheeks, eyes and anatomical admiration suggested he would have been a willing subject for a Queen's womanly expertise.
By all accounts, whether hung-over or not, this young man seemed in possession of an impressively perspicacious mind. There was much potential here.
"I have been watching you very closely this evening, Sauren," the Queen said measuredly. She crossed to the window. Peeling back the heavy drapes just a fraction she stared out over the moonlit lake to the rear of the complex. It was a serene setting.
Strange considering the land was recovering from the recent war with those green devils, the orcs. The city was fast becoming a pilgrimage for those who had lost everything. Masses were arriving from south of Thandol Span, their broken homes and lives left behind in the ashes of the once great city of Stormwind. Even Lakeshire and Westfall had suffered from the hands of the marauders. As a result she presumed the tranquility of her city's location would soon vanish amid the hustle and bustle of an expanding population. She sighed.
Glancing back at the figure now sitting up in the bed, she was struck by how handsome he was. The elven genes were clearly dominant in him; the height, build, colouring. But feature wise, his mother's side prevailed. The eyes were undeniably human, a warm, sensual brown, framed by the long fair lashes. His mouth, inviting for one so young, concealed the most perfect teeth she had ever seen. They did not have the customary elven fang trait, but they did afford him a most charismatic smile. Also, his ears were not quite as tapered as those pure blood high elves and his eyebrows were in keeping with the humans. She foresaw this young half-elf being a very desirable male.
"And what did Your Majesty find on such scrutiny?" Sauren asked confidently.
The Queen let the drapes fall back into place and returned to the side of the bed. She stood, with hands clasped low in front of her. Smiling down at him her voice was almost that of a purr. "I see a very astute young man. You will achieve great things I am sure, Sauren."
The boy grinned. "Forgive me Your Majesty, but we have only met this evening. How is it you can form that opinion about me in such a small space of time?"
The Queen looked upon him with surprise. "About the same as you have formed an opinion about me, I would say." She grinned as her eyes drifted south. She laughed lightly as his hands moved down to cover his still-present avidity. When she looked back up at his face however, she was surprised to see that he showed no embarrassment now whatsoever.
"May I speak frankly, Your Majesty?"
"But of course you may."
"Good." He shifted slightly to get more comfortable but also to offer her a place to sit next to him. She cordially accepted, choosing to sit at an angle with her back to the headboard, her ample cleavage on display.
The young man's eyes rested on her heaving chest. With an assured smile he began. "If you had intended to seduce me Your Majesty, I would say you would have done so before now."
Queen Lianne inched back a little, surprised by his opening line. Her lip curled at the side with the knowledge that she could so easily have him incarcerated for treason with such an outlandish supposition. Truth be, however, it was something which had in fact crossed her mind. She had never taken one so young before though. It was against her rules. Still, she liked to toy with them.
"And right now you are thinking "Shall I have him cast into the dungeons or flogged for such treasonous talk?" Sauren continued.
She laughed out loud. "Oh, I knew I liked you for a reason, Sauren."
Once her laughter subsided he continued. "So, Your Majesty, with the greatest of respect, what is your true reason for being in my bedchamber?"
The Queen sat straight and looked purposefully at the half-elf. "I noted you are very much like me – an observer. You soak in snippets of information, you see the smallest details which flit before your eyes, and you absorb all like a sponge. I could do with someone like you under my employ."
"To do what exactly?"
"What you will be good at one day. Spy for me."
"You have need of such a service?"
"I am the Queen of Lordaeron, of course I have such need." She replied haughtily. "Do you honestly believe it is Terenas' decisions alone which keep this kingdom strong? Who really employs the skills of your father and his rogues? Why do you think I was the one to attend this evening's festivities and not the King?"
Sauren smiled. "And why was it deemed necessary to conduct this conversation in here?"
"An opportune moment let's say. When you and your friend were found inebriated in the library, I don't think your father was very enamoured. But, I sweet talked him and said not to be too harsh on you, it was after all a momentous occasion and perhaps a little overwhelming for you."
Sauren cocked an eyebrow. "And my father believed you?"
"I am his Queen, why would he doubt me?"
Sauren bowed his head, concealing a grin and the strong desire to laugh. It seemed Queen Lianne was quite the manipulator. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Brett had been privy to the conversation between the Queen and his father. No doubt the right-hand man would not be so easily convinced.
"And so," he continued, relieved that both his cupidity and mirth had subsided. "Please tell me why you feel it necessary to tell me of this when my training has not even started? I am not even considered one of my father's troup."
"Because dear boy, I believe you will be one of the finest before too long. The true skill of a rogue is not how fast he moves, nor his ability to take his victims by surprise. The sharpness of his mind is his best weapon and even finely honed blades pale in comparison. From what I have witnessed this evening, I think in that department, you are far beyond your years."
Sauren stared at the woman in front of him. He duly realised that he had not just acquired a magus as an ally that evening but also a Queen. And he hadn't even started on his training yet.
"I thank you, Your Majesty. Your faith in me is most encouraging and this I promise, I will not disappoint you. I will find out whatever you want me to and perhaps even more than you bargained for."
Queen Lianne inhaled, her bosom almost ready to burst through the fabric of her gown. "Well then, I look forward to the day you join the ranks, Sauren. And should I perhaps require you sooner, would you be available?"
"At your service, Your Majesty." He inclined his head.
The Queen rose and swept towards the door, the rustle of her skirts the only sound in the room. She stopped at the door and turned to face Sauren once more. "Oh, one more thing," she said with a sagacious smirk.
"Yes, Your Majesty?"
"Regarding that ... other issue," she pointed to his crotch.
Sauren grinned, his perfect teeth just being hinted at. "Issue?"
"Yes. I shall see that it is properly dealt with. I have ladies in my employ who are masters of their craft too. I will arrange it. Consider it a perk." With that she opened the door and left the room. It drew closed with a soft click.
Sauren stared at the door. He slid down under the sheets again, laughing softly to himself. Having in effect just received a Royal Seal of Approval, today had turned out not too bad after all.