The Guardian
by Concolor44
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Chapter 10: Setting Course
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Arendelle, 07 June 1841, 2:25am
Kristoff knew, the instant he came awake, that something was wrong.
Ever since apprising the royal sisters of what he'd learned from Pabbie, he had taken to sleeping clothed, just in case, so all he had to do was slip on his boots and trot to the door. He lifted a sturdy leather bag off a nearby hook and slung it around his neck, to rest comfortably against his left hip. The bag was full of hefty, round stones. That was Anna's idea.
The two guards at his door startled when he emerged, and one asked, "Is there something you need?"
"Jurg, go alert the Captain. We have intruders on the grounds."
"Again?! But just yesterday …" Jurg sighed, gave an abbreviated salute and ran off. Every member of the castle staff had been made aware that Kristoff, in addition to being the Royal Ice Master, was now bodyguard to the Queen and Princess. As such, his orders carried the same weight as the Captain of the Queen's Own Guard.
Kristoff tapped Tomas (the other man) and jerked his head down the hall. "Rear garden."
As they ran, they passed more leather bags hanging on convenient hooks near each intersecting corridor. These bags were also filled with palm-sized rocks. That had been Mikael's idea, and had been instrumental in repelling the previous assassination attempt. Running with a bag full of stones that tipped the scales at around thirty kilograms didn't encumber Kristoff at all. He'd discovered some days ago that with proper concentration, he could handle immense masses of stone with hardly any effort.
Tomas and Kristoff reached the door from the lower rear hall to the conservatory, and the former ice-merchant raised a hand, making a "shhh" motion with his other. Tomas already had his carbine cocked.
Kneeling, Kristoff placed his palm firmly on the stone floor, and concentrated. His fire crystals briefly took on a slight glow. He held that pose for two breaths, then stood and said, "They're still in the garden. We go fast and quiet."
"How many?"
"Three. Maybe four."
Tomas nodded. The palace staff were an adaptable bunch. After coming to terms with Elsa's ice magic, and seeing how beneficial it could be for the kingdom, learning to deal with the fact that Kristoff could now apparently commune with rocks was an easy step.
They crouched low, pushed the door open carefully, and crabbed quickly across to the garden door. Peeking through the glass beside the door, Kristoff had no trouble spotting the group. The sky was crystal clear and the waning gibbous moon cast sharp shadows … and glinted off the barrels of their pistols. Whispering to Tomas, Kristoff said, "They're to the right of the fountain. You take the two on the left."
"Got it."
"The door squeaks, so I'll open this window."
Tomas stood slowly and brought his carbine up into position. It was quite dark in the conservatory. He knew they wouldn't see him move.
Kristoff pulled three rocks from his bag, keeping one in his left hand. His ability to throw the rocks at hellish velocities had returned during the first assault on the castle, and had stayed with him thereafter. Lately he had gotten adept at throwing two at a time at different targets (and never missing), but he couldn't quite handle three. Yet. Smoothly he unlatched the window and swung it out, then drew his arm back. "Now." He let fly just as Tomas fired.
The triple-report badly startled the one remaining assassin, who yelled and turned to run. Tomas's second bullet took him through the thigh and he fell with a scream of pain.
A handful of seconds later, more gunfire erupted from the opposite side of the castle. Kristoff rumbled a continuous series of curses as he sprinted that way.
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9:10am
"So their stories jibe."
The Lieutenant nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Elsa paced a short path back and forth in front of the five men kneeling on the cold floor. "The Duke's money is buying us a lot of trouble."
Kristoff stared murder at one of the captives. Using one big hand to grab the man by the throat, he pulled him up and brought their faces into very close proximity. "By my count, we've killed ninety-eight of you, and now have nearly a score in the dungeons. What kind of insanity led you to try killing the Queen again? Do you have no sense of self-preservation left at all? I'd think by now …"
Elsa laid a hand on his arm. Disgustedly, Kristoff tossed the man aside. It didn't escape the Queen's notice that the assassin, a fairly large man himself, flew through the air like a doll and smacked the wall hard enough to knock him senseless; she wondered if that was another connection to the fire crystals. Kristoff, it seemed, had acquired talents beyond throwing rocks really fast.
She turned to the Lieutenant. "Kindly put them with the others." Frowning at the men, she added, "And make sure they're loaded down with enough chain to discourage them from moving."
"It will be done, Majesty."
As they walked back to the residential wing, Elsa stopped and pulled Kristoff into a hug. "Thank you."
Patting her back lightly, he answered, "Well, it's my job, you know?"
"This is five times now that you've saved my life."
"Oh, you could've handled that bunch that got in by yourself. You had the corridor walled off already. When the Guard trapped 'em from the other end, it was fish-in-a-barrel."
She let him go and nibbled her lip as they resumed their walk. "Maybe."
"Hey, don't worry about it. Like I said before, you don't have that killer instinct."
"That doesn't mean … I, uh … I think you're right. It's not as if I can't help in my own defense."
He gave her a speculative look. "I think you could come up with some good ways to stop bullets. Like what your ice did against that crossbow …"
"Please, can we not talk about that?"
"Just trying to make sure you don't die."
"And I appreciate it. But I … I don't …"
"Hey, hey, no worries. It's okay. That's what you've got us for."
She grew silent, and remained so until he handed her off to the Guard unit outside her room.
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Bergen, port of Eide/Sand, 08 June 1841, 11:15am
The ships weren't obviously warships. They looked like traders. Armed traders, to be sure, but then most traders were, to some degree. These ships, though, rather than being loaded with Wedgewood china or coffee beans or bolts of silk, were filled to the gunwales with mercenaries.
The Harbormaster had a harried look about him. Counting these five ships that had just arrived, he'd had to contend with seventeen only this morning. And he still wasn't caught up on his paperwork from the day before. He hardly had an empty berth to spare. So when the captains of the five vessels all came and presented him their paperwork simultaneously, he just sighed and stamped everything and muttered, "Leave your manifests at the port office. I'll go over 'em when I get a chance."
Franklin Stokes, the Commander General of the Weselton Navy, once apprised of this, gave his orders. Over the next six hours, in small groups of four or five or six, the disguised mercenaries left the ships, melted into the bustling activity of the docks, made their way casually through the city, and walked away steadily on the Southeastern Road. Once they got to the southern-most point of River Suldalslagen, they would gather into one force, turn south into the mountains and begin raiding villages for horses, maintaining a steadily increasing speed toward the south.
Toward Arendelle.
Franklin Stokes, before he left his cabin, stared in the mirror and gave his drab and unassuming garb a last once-over. Finally coming back up to his face, he frowned slightly, repressed the lambent yellow glow in his eyes, and firmed up his control. Then he went out to join his men.
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Arendelle, Admiral Naismith's office, 18 June 1841, 10:05am
"Damn. I was afraid it was too good to last."
Mikael looked up from his paperwork, squinting at one of his Lieutenants. "What is it?"
"Johann just dropped off the morning reports. Looks like there are more brigands. This time … well, see for yourself, sir." He rose and strode over to hand him the report.
The Admiral let slip a muttered oath. Quickly he scanned the report, then repeated his curse with a lot more vehemence. "The Queen is going to go completely sideways when she hears about this."
"Yes, sir, that thought had occurred to me, sir."
"Best we tell her sooner than not."
"My thoughts exactly, sir."
Twenty minutes later the door Guard to Elsa's study announced the Admiral. When Elsa saw his face, she knew something was up. "Mikael? What is it?"
He took one deep breath and said, "We simply don't have enough patrols to go around. Arendelle's borders are too remote, too broken up by the mountains."
The small hairs stood up along the back of her neck. "What do you mean?"
"There has been … an attack. The village of Kalaad, on the northeastern border."
Elsa racked her brain. "Didn't you just have a patrol go through there?"
"We did. Three days ago. Last night one of the … ah, the, ah, oldest son of one of the families there …" He stopped, trying to find the words.
"Admiral!" She stood, gripping the edge of the desk.
"My apologies, Majesty. He had been to the capitol for trade. When he returned to Kalaad, it was to find it … destroyed."
Her voice was barely a whisper. "Destroyed?"
"The, ah … most all the buildings burnt. All the inhabitants slain. All the livestock slaughtered, even to the smallest chicken." He swallowed, dreading the next part. "There was a, um, message … drawn on the wall of the one house they left standing."
The edges of her vision were getting dark. An entire village?! How many innocent people? Her own citizens! People who trusted her to keep them safe! What kind of a monster is this horrible Duke, to unleash such …
She looked up, focused on the Admiral. "I'm sorry, Mikael. What … what was that last thing you said?"
"The message they left, written in blood. It said … "This is the Witch's doing".
He made to catch her as she swooned, but she caught herself first. "Mikael …"
"I'm here." He helped her sit.
"Mikael … how? How did they get in? Where? Kalaad is so remote! Why that one? Why not … why not … wait … didn't you have a lookout post there?"
"Yes, Majesty. We did. The brigands got them first."
Elsa forced back tears, then frowned, firming up her resolve. "Admiral … it's time."
He knew instantly what she meant. "Your Majesty … please … we can't guarantee your safety if …"
"My safety be damned! I am the Protector of the Realm. This is my job, Mikael! If my own people can't count on me to keep them from harm, what good am I? I may as well be dead." She held up a hand, forestalling his objections. "This needs to be done. I should have started two weeks ago. Then Kalaad would be unmolested and your men still alive." She turned to one of the Guards at the door. "Have my horse readied."
The man glanced back and forth between her and the Admiral a few times, popping a sheen of sweat.
She took a step in his direction. "Was I speaking Russian?"
"N-no, Your Majesty." He turned and nearly ran from the room.
Mikael just shook his head. As much effort as it's taking to keep her safe here in the castle, how are we ever going to do it out in the open?
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