Hey! Okay, so I lied about this chapter being posted after a few weeks. But the next one really will be.
Hope you like my idea of what the Order's labrynth might be like!
Only Merle, Blake, and the plot belong to me!
Chapter Four
With a soft thud, Merle lands in the black labyrinth. The place is eternally dark, thanks to Lorian's theft of the plans for the Bastion—or the Citadel, as he saw fit to rename it. The Bastion, the Hollow…those are some of the names for this space which Lathenia had such high hopes for…
Impatiently, Merle waits for Blake. He has been getting more presumptuous as of late, thinking himself intelligent simply because he is Merle's partner. She will have to show him his place somehow.
"Merle." Blake walks out from behind a wall of the labyrinth.
She raises an eyebrow coolly. "You're late."
"I landed further in the labyrinth by mistake."
"Naturally. A mistake only a beginner would make, by the way. Come on, in any case; time isn't measured here."
She is aware of Blake scowling at her back, but starts into the labyrinth anyway. She turns a corner, and is instantly clothed in attire fitting for a noble lady of Spain: a gown of dark green wool, with emeralds in her ears. Her hair is lightened to a dark brown, and her skin tone has become more olive. She turns another corner and is showered in black dust.
"Blake?"
He arrives a moment after her, clad in a red wool shirt and dark red shirt underneath, with light brown leggings. His blonde hair is kept long and tied back at the base of his skull with a black ribbon that is the exact coal color as his eyes, which stand out against his deathly pale skin. After the black dust falls on him, Merle checks out their identities.
"You are?"
"Christopher, Duke of Wales. And you, my lady?"
"Zinaida, Duchess of Wales, your Spanish wife. We are guests at the court of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella."
"Indeed. Okay, you ready for this next turn?"
Merle sniffs disdainfully. "I, Duke Christopher am always ready."
Together, they walk the length of the "hall" they are in, pausing before the next turn. Then they step forward and fall into the shadows.
Merle and Blake land gracefully—though only from many years of experience—in an abandoned hallway.
"Where are we?" she mutters, forgetting, for a moment, to keep up her omniscient façade.
"Near the front of the castle," Blake replies, sizing up the hallway. "And…we will be dining with the king and queen. Soon."
"So we should probably make for the front now."
"Yeah." As they set off, he asks, "D'you think—" he looks around and lowers his voice "—d'you think the Guard will be here?"
"What, you afraid of a challenge?"
"No!"
"Honestly, I can't say. They may be too busy regrouping to even notice that a portal has opened so soon."
Merle and Blake are greeted by a servant, who leads them to a dining room, where King Ferdinand, Queen Isabella, and other dignitaries are already arrayed around a gargantuan table.
There are so many…any given one may really be in the Guard. She sits down warily.
"Duke Christopher, Duchess Zinaida," the queen greets warmly. "So good to have you here today. I was just telling the good Lord Eduardo and Lady Adelina of Portugal here just how much your alliance has meant to us."
"I'm honored, m'lady," Merle says, forcing the perfect amount of humbleness into her voice. Blake starts talking to the king right off, keeping him busy and them in his favor. Carefully, Merle tries to look into the eyes of the Portuguese—who definitely do not exist in history—without being caught. The girl has brown eyes, and the man…he keeps his face turned away. Both of them are sitting at a sufficient distance from Merle that she can't look into their eyes and see their souls' true forms. Lovely. After some time, Lady Adelina carefully brings up the topic of Columbus.
"Oh, that sailor?" Queen Isabella laughs. "Well, he certainly has perseverance, and his theories about how to get to India are interesting, but honestly, he's really just a nuisance."
"Too true, m'lady," Merle says in a carefully measured voice. "After all, who can trust a man who claims that all of the royal scholars are wrong about the Earth's measurements?"
"But," Lord Eduardo counters, "he may have a point. The scholars have been wrong before."
Merle lowers her eyes as though suitably put down, though inside she is cursing the misogynistic beliefs of that time period that will not allow her to speak further.
"Perhaps," Queen Isabella says airily. "though, really, Lady Zinaida is certainly correct."
"If I may venture?" Merle asks in a soft voice.
"But of course."
"Surely, that is, if you don't disagree…but perhaps it is time you got rid of him, once and for all. You yourself said that he is a nuisance."
"Of course!" Lady Adelina bursts out. "I mean, I beg pardon…"
"Please go on," the queen says courteously, adding, "I rather think you would reply anyway."
"You are most gracious. I was just thinking that the best way to get rid of Columbus may be to give him his voyage."
No! I just dug myself a grave a plopped a stone on top!
"But, Lady Adelina, surely you don't suggest the good queen actually succumbs to the demands of a madman?"
"No, of course not!" the Guard member—for now it's most clear—insists, eyes alight. "But if she were to give him his voyage, then he would be gone, wouldn't he? If he is right somehow and succeeds, then Spain will reap all of the benefits. If he's wrong—well, I doubt you'll ever see him again."
"That is most brilliant, Lady Adelina," Queen Isabella murmurs. "At a comparatively small cost to Spain…yes!"
"Surely you do not take this offer seriously?" Merle asks, panic giving her voice an edge. "My Lady, think of the risks—and how do you know that Portugal is not going to take advantage of this?"
"Why are you so against this, Duchess Zinaida?" Lord Eduardo asks, amusement lacing his voice. "Vested interest, perhaps?"
Now he knows her for what she is!
"I only think for the good of the Spanish Empire! And what an empire it could be, if only foolish ventures such as this did not receive a second thought!"
Catching her impassioned tone, Blake stands quickly. "Indeed! And what are you trying to say, Lord Eduardo? I beg you to not sully my wife's honor!"
"Duke Christopher! Duchess Zinaida!" King Ferdinand says sharply. "What is the meaning of this?"
Blake catches Merle's eyes, and a message passes through: Get out now. Merle and Blake run out of the room, to the protests of the king and queen.
Curse this heavy dress! Even her gift of speed is no match to a heavy wool dress of the 1490s. Footsteps clatter on the stone behind her. Clearly, keeping history right is not enough for the Guard today. Desperately, she tries to keep up with Blake as they make for the spot in which they'd arrived.
Come on! Just a little farther…
"Midori!" she hears Blake yell as he leaves without her. How typical.
"Mi—!" she starts to yell, but a hand is thrust over her mouth.
Not good, not good, not good!
Fiercely, she struggles against her captor, but he's got both of her hands secured behind her back now with only one of his.
"Have you got her?" a breathless female voice asks from behind her.
"Yes."
"ARKARIAN!" they call at once.
Yeah, I'm not evil at all...