A/N: Just to clarify things – Daine's scene takes place inside the palace grounds, whereas Numair's scene is located down in the city along with Alanna's. Also, we are nearing the end of part one - so hang on until then, as I'm going to take you on a crazy ride into my plotting mind.

Proof read by Danaye

Chapter 40

Mardell Grayer's clothes were fine, clean and tailored to his build. The sleeves of his tunic were embroidered with a soft blue thread, contrasting with the darker shade of the fabric. Underneath it, he wore a white shirt. Combined, it became the uniform that represented the Royal Commander of the Tortallan army.

For years he had planned this, and for years he had waited for it to come to an end. When he had become the Royal Commander of the Tortallan army, he had still been a young man, one that had quickly risen through the ranks. King Jonathan, or the man he was supposed to be serving, had only been sitting on the throne for three years before Lord Grayer had been appointed to the position of commander. Back then, his loyalty had belonged to a completely different person. Over the thirteen years, he had played as a double agent.

Now he lingered in the shadows, waiting for the sign that would mean the Crown Prince of Tortall had been assassinated at the hands of his hired man. What would happen, however, would prove to be much better.

He couldn't have planned it much better. He watched as the wildmage offered herself to the man he had hired and how she aided them, unknowingly. The benefit of having Numair Salmalin's new wife kill the heir was just a bonus — a bonus that thrilled his heart.

What he didn't anticipate was the small and extremely ugly dog that was summoned by the wildmage. When the dog turned to run away, with the clear intent of getting help, he tried his best to aim his dagger at the dog's body, but it missed by inches. Instead, the dagger embedded itself into the wooden door.

He retrieved it and pushed the door closed, turning around with a happy smile on his face. However, the smile slowly turned into a grimace.

From what Lord Grayer could hear, he realized that the young woman had tricked the Scanran. Instead of charging in on them, he decided to wait just long enough to make sure that the man made his point — that her trick would eventually cost her life, but not until she had done what Sun Tzu wanted.

"You bitch!" The Scanran yelled in anger, "Ye told me that ye would kill him!"

As he stood, waiting, he hoped that the Scanran would restrain himself. He had specifically given the order that the woman was to be untouched. He could beat her, but not claim her body. As the screaming continued, he was glad that he had taken the time to ward the stable from emitting sounds. Otherwise, people would rush in to help at any moment.

"Get back here, ye wench!"

A grimace twisted his face, making it very unattractive. The screaming was intensifying and he realized that his man wasn't following his wishes.

Striding forth, he came to a halt at the sight of naked legs and a pale butt. "You beast! I told you not to defile her!" he shouted angrily and yanked the man way from the young woman who was so valuable to his future.

Lord Grayer looked down at Daine with disgust before glancing to the man who was coming to his feet once again. "Didn't I give you specific orders to refrain from violating her body?"

"Yes," the man muttered as he turned his body, exposing himself. The young woman turned her face away. "I just thought that since she wore a pregnancy charm, it couldn't harm her."

Lord Grayer's body moved before his mind could comprehend his actions. He kicked a polished boot directly into the abdomen of the man, forcing him to bend over and cough loudly. "Do not touch her again, you beast..." he growled, straightening up. He continued to pointedly ignore the woman lying on the ground. "I don't pay you to think! I pay you to follow my orders!"

The Scanran only grunted as he rolled to the side, looking up for a brief moment at the man hovering above. He then lowered his gaze in what looked like shame. "Sorry," he whispered.

Lord Grayer kept his gaze on the man and shook his head. "I should have expected that when I hired someone from that foul country, but he insisted. I can't refuse an order and neither should you! Understood?"

The Scanran nodded once, only to turn his face away.

Glancing down, he saw that the woman — the one his master wanted so badly after the news of her marriage to the powerful Black Robed Mage reached him — was staring up at him with wide, terrified eyes.

He smiled at her coldly, ignoring the fact that she was half naked and trying unsuccessfully to cover herself.

Lord Grayer felt something inside him pull, a faint notion of lust and desire as he met stormy blue-gray eyes, but he pushed it away. His master would kill him if he ever laid a hand on her.

"Get up!" he ordered her before turning back to the other man. "Because of you they are coming." Lord Grayer paused as the Scanran lifted his blond eyebrows in surprise, "Gustav, you failed to notice that she called for help!" Disappointment was evident in his voice, but he didn't give a damn if the Scanran knew that he had let him down.

"Sorry," Gustav answered, coming to his feet and hoisting up his breeches. "What about the prince?" he asked, beginning to refasten his belt.

"Leave him," Lord Grayer sighed. He turned towards Daine as she moved herself and started to gather up her torn clothes. As he looked down at her, she shifted uneasily. "We need to proceed as planned, although we don't have time to finish the job..."

"But…" the Scanran protested, "we promised to kill the heir." His mouth snapped shut as Lord Grayer slammed a firm fist into his face, bringing forth a startled gasp from the wildmage.

Pulling back his aching hand, Lord Grayer hissed low, his patience clearly used up, "Are you done asking questions?"

The Scanran nodded, rubbing his cheek.

"Good." Lord Grayer paused. He needed to think. He had expected the Scanran to take the wildmage away to a planned destination. Unfortunately, since he had been forced to interfere, he couldn't be seen at the scene without plausible explanation.

Pulling a wry smile, he looked down at Daine who was struggling with her breeches. He thought for a few seconds before coming to a decision.

"Gustav, grab her and be very careful to hold her fingers out."

Daine knew that her fright was evident in her eyes. She backed away, as far as she could, trying to widen the space between her and the man who was advancing on her.

"No!" she cried out, flinching as large hands grabbed hold of her upper arms. "Don't touch me!"

"Be silent or I'll continue where we left off the moment we're alone together. Even if I can't use ye, I still have other ways to please a wee lass!" Gustav shook her roughly and Daine snapped her mouth closed at the threat. She wasn't going to give him a chance to do anything else to her.

As she came to a shaky stand, she glanced to the side where the doors were closed to the outside.

"It's unlikely anyone heard you," the other man, Lord Grayer, replied with a sneaky glimmer in his eyes. "The walls are warded to prevent any sound from escaping."

This shocked her, and she blurted the first thing that came to mind, "You planned this?"

Lord Grayer walked forth to where Gustav held her. Daine yanked away as he tried to touch her cheek. She didn't want his fingers on her, but the man behind her prevented her from moving. "Yes, I planned this."

Daine stared at him as he out-right told her the truth. "You're a traitor!" she spat, the words tasting foul in her mouth. She was disgusted by the man that stood in front of her.

Lord Grayer gave her a wicked smile, shaking his head, "No, my dear – I'm not the traitor. You, however, are a different story."

"What?!" Daine's heart froze. She slowly directed her gaze from the man standing in front of her to where she knew the unconscious body of the Crown Prince lay. A few seconds passed as her mind tried to comprehend the information that had been given to her.

"No," she whispered quietly. They would think she had been the one who had tried to assassinate the heir to the Tortallan throne. She had an odd feeling that they would rather trust the Commander of the Tortallan army over a mere foreign girl that had been bought, married and taken into their inner circle. She had, this morning, been sitting in front of the king, promising him that she would help in every way she could. Now they would think that it was all a lie!

She had also given them the proof that she had been the one to attack the Crown Prince as well! The dagger, the Queen's dagger, given to her by Onua, sat deep in the muscle of Roald's thigh. She would be beheaded if she were to be caught.

Looking back at Lord Grayer, Daine could see triumph shining clearly in his eyes. "You...you can't do this!" Her voice shook under the explosion of emotions that erupted inside her. She was going to lose everything — her freedom, her promising life and her husband, with whom she had slightly begun to fall in love with.

Lord Grayer leaned forth, smiling down at her. "I can, I have, and I will continue with this. You stabbed the prince willingly!"

Horror. It was the only way she could describe the feeling. Horror was the only thing she felt. "No..." Daine whispered yet again, denying what she already knew was the truth.

"I believe the correct word is 'yes'. They will hear how I found you, lingering over his body after you attacked him. You were trying to end his life, but when I interrupted you in your quest, you turned and attacked me..."

"But I didn't..." Daine interrupted his words, only to find her cheek burn as the backside of his hand struck her.

"Do not contradict me, wench! My word is law."

Trying to ignore the foul taste of blood inside her mouth, Daine bit down her protest. She couldn't do anything. She couldn't change what had happened. They had tricked her. How foolish could she be?

Lord Grayer took a step forth, coming to a halt only inches from Daine. He didn't look at her, however. Instead, he turned his eyes to the man behind her. "I need to have cuts on my cheek if I am to make them believe me...hold out her fingers," he commanded.

Daine clenched her fists as Gustav moved his hands from her upper arms to her hands. "No...you cannot do this!" His hands were larger then hers, something she was well aware of. She couldn't hold her fingers together, couldn't keep her fingertips inside her palms. His hands were stronger than hers and such, unwillingly and without her permission, her nails scratched deep gouges into the cheek Lord Grayer offered.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice nothing but a whisper. Long bloody lines were forming on the commander's cheek.

Lord Grayer leaned forth with an evil smile, unperturbed by the small pebbles of blood running down his face. "Because your brother failed his task and Sun Tzu will now reward me with immortality."

Numair stared in bewilderment as the young man sank to his knees, screaming in agony. He began to wonder if it was some kind of a show or a way to trick him.

Seconds passed by as the assassin continued to scream. Numair only stood there paralyzed. He did nothing to help until he heard a weak plea forced out between screams. It took a moment for him to comprehend the meaning of the man's words

"Please, Master, forgive me!"

The assassin's voice shook as another painful sensation shot through him, forcing the green tentacles to withdraw from their position of upholding the house. Quickly, like a flash of lightning, Numair threw out a hand and pushed his own magic upon the house, his own magic replacing the assassin's.

"No!" the assassin screamed again, another spasm racking through his body. "I didn't mean...it was a mistake...please...do not..."

No other words left the assassin's mouth. Suddenly a deafening scream erupted and nearly pierced Numair's eardrums. He could no longer just stand there and watch the young man undergo agonizing pain. It wasn't okay. In fact, everything about it was deeply wrong. Yes, the assassin had just admitted that the heir to the Tortallan throne had been deprived of his life, and was lying dead in some unknown place. However, the scene in front of Numair forced him to react. No one deserved to be treated this way, not even the scum of the land.

Coming to a decision, Numair knelt down and tried to touch the young man's shoulder, but the assassin only flinched away with a warning, "He's too strong...he'll...he'll kill me..."

Numair grimaced and gritted his teeth, "Let him try. I'm not a Black Robed Mage for nothing, son." Feeling Alanna's presence lingering impatiently on the other side of his black ward, he reached for the assassin's shoulder once again, but withheld his powers, instead he expanded his ward, pushing her and others away. Bringing them to safety if anything should go wrong. Turing his attention back to the man in front of him, he needed a few questions answered before he could allow the man peace from his pain. "What is your name, son?"

The young man tried to lift up his head, rolling onto his side. His master was angry, beyond angry. He was furious over the slip of tongue. "My name is…Daniel."

Numair's mind froze, but only for a few seconds. "If I can help you stop this, will you help us? Will you give us the information that is necessary to beat him? Will you give up on the task you were set to do?"

Daniel nodded as his blood began to boil and a horrified roar of anger nearly split his mind. "Yes," he managed to say. Looking up into deep brown eyes, he felt hope — hope that he would be freed from his prison. Maybe, even, freed from the strings that bound him to his master.

Numair nodded, "Good...let's take that pain away from you, once and for all."

The spell was easy enough to perform, and as he pushed his magic into the young man's body, Numair felt the torture from Sun Tzu grumble and unwillingly recede. The spell would only last for a few hours, but it would at least give the young man some rest before Alanna and Numair would begin to question him.

As they moved through the streets, hysteria was clear in the movements and voices of the people all around them. This was what she had wanted to avoid.

Everywhere she looked, she detected anxiety in the eyes of the citizens of Corus. The whispers that the Black God had shown himself didn't add anything good to her conscience. She shouldn't have allowed Numair to approach the assassin alone and she shouldn't have handled this mess without aid from her king.

Glancing around, she could only presume that Jonathan was well aware that something was going on in the main capital. It wouldn't be long before she would have a sapphire orb floating in front of her, conveying the angry voice of her superior.

Nevertheless, she kept a firm eye out for anything that screamed "trouble" and for anything that didn't need to be happening. She was almost confident that everything was fine and that the Tortallans would eventually calm down by themselves, when she caught a person's movement from the corner of her eye.

A man, dressed in the garb of a commoner, stood high above the crowd that had gathered around him. What he stood on was questionable, but Alanna could see that it wasn't very stable. The man was swaying back and forth, gesturing and speaking in a loud voice.

Pulling the reins, she broke from the formation that followed behind her. The King's Own halted their horses as their Raoul and Liam followed suit, maneuvering their horses after the Lioness.

As Alanna neared the crowd, the man's muffled voice got louder, ending in clear and understandable words, "Guard yourselves, the Gods are walking among us! Soon we will all be doomed, unless the prince is returned to his kingdom!"

"Nonsense!" a man in the crowd shouted, interrupting the preaching man. "Everyone knows that the Gods aren't allowed in the mortal realm. So how can they suddenly be walking among us?"

Alanna smiled as the preaching man lifted up his nose, clearly offended by the other man's words. "Oh, that's not exactly true," she muttered. At the same time, she took notice of the man's statement about the prince. He could only be referring to the Prince of Galla, who was safely on his way to Trebond where he would be attended by his new foster-family. But where had that man obtained his information? Did they have a snitch in their midst?

Only Alanna and Numair, along with Hakim and the company from the King's Own that accompanied the Bazhir man, knew what was going on with that prince.

Glancing behind her, she checked if the preaching man was gaining more attention then necessary. He clearly was, much to her irritation. Her lips thinning into a grim line, she turned to Raoul, who had come up beside her. "We need to have him silenced," she said, but Raoul only met her violet gaze and lifted his eyebrows in a silent question.

Alanna shook her head, refusing to explain anything to him. "Don't ask the question, Raoul," she simply told the commander, "he's creating a disturbance. Also, he knows things that he shouldn't..."

She suddenly stopped. The preaching man, swaying dangerously from his perch, leaned forth and lifted up a warning finger.

"Keeping secrets from the king isn't very polite, dear Lioness. Maybe someone should tell him that the one who killed the Marenese king is in his city..."

She had almost swung from her saddle when a hand gripped her elbow, holding her back. "Let my men handle him," Raoul said through gritted teeth. He gestured to two of his men, who swung from their saddles in one swift movement.

They moved forth slowly, pushing themselves through the crowd that wouldn't move willingly. The people were standing too close to each other and more were arriving, wanting to see what all the fuss was about.

Alanna was about to open her mouth when she discovered that the crowd had turned to each other with anxiety clear in their movements and whispers. The citizens of Corus had yet to be notified of the latest news. Their confusion was evident and their voices were starting to rise.

"The Marenese king isn't dead, ye arse. He's alive and well!" one woman snapped angrily, "Our king would have sent news of such a death if it were true."

The woman became silent as the preaching man lifted a finger once more and pointed it at Alanna. "Ask the woman who has spoken with the Goddess herself," he paused for a brief moment, before he continued with a wicked smile, "face to face."

Alanna froze in her saddle as the crowd slowly turned to face her, along with the two men from the King's Own. It was common knowledge that she had been the Goddess's chosen. The people surrounding her figured that she was a once in a lifetime type of person, one that was rarely encountered. However, the fact that she had been graced with a visit by the divine woman herself wasn't common knowledge. Neither was it something she had ever spoken very freely about.

Only a few people among her family and friends knew. Knowing this, she frowned slightly as the preaching man continued to smile at her. For one brief second, the man's blue eyes changed to a light brown and that was when she knew. That was when she realized that the man was possessed.

"Kyprioth," she whispered, more to herself than to anyone around her, though Liam interpreted the word and turned to stare in confusion at his aunt.

"What did you say?" he commanded, the horse underneath him beginning to trip to the side, coming dangerously close to the bystanders.

Alanna ignored him, knowing that Liam was still angry that the Trickster God had been the reason that he was now the King of Thieves. She continued to stare at the preaching man who had turned his attention away from her, and was now staring at the two men approaching and seeking to grab him.

The preaching man backed away, still wearing a wicked smile on his lips as he continued to ramble about a prince, the dead king, and something else about a curse.

Alanna grimaced as the two men from the King's Own maneuvered themselves up onto the swaying boxes the man stood on and tried to grab a hold of him. As the first man grabbed an arm, the preaching man turned to face the Rogue, starring Liam directly in the eyes.

"You better prepare, 'Prince Stealer', because you are not getting her back before the task is done."

And with that, the preaching man collapsed into the arms of the men. The men tried to maintain their balance, but as the extra weight hit them, the boxes stumbled to one side and everyone's view was blocked by tangled arms and legs.