A/N: First of all, I must apologize for the extra-long wait. Unfortunately I am a student, which means that midterm exams are a little important. But now I can go back to writing! Hope you enjoy this chapter.

Coded Messages

King Berillan scratched his ear with the end of a quill pen, and peered down at the documents in front of him. His eyesight was getting worse. Even using the cut-glass spectacles that Ghidreth had crafted, he still had trouble reading for long periods of time. Or perhaps the handwriting of his subjects was becoming notoriously bad.

Berillan removed the spectacles – which he felt even more ridiculous wearing than his ceremonial crown – and rubbed at his eyes. He was over sixty now, a fact that was very frightening, and he was not quite as resilient as he used to be. He could scarcely perform his sword-exercises without feeling twinges of pain in his wrists, his hair was completely grey without a strand of brown, and now his eyes were failing him. Berillan was inclined to feel indignant at his body's betrayal, and feared that his recent aberrant moods of crabbiness were yet another sign of his aging.

There was a soft knock on the door, and a servant ducked inside. "The Crown Prince to see you," he announced ceremoniously, and Berillan nodded his consent.

Dantalion practically bounded into the room, slapping down a sheet of folded paper on the already-overflowing stacks that littered Berillan's desk. "There," said the Prince emphatically, stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest.

Berillan looked up at his son with a politely puzzled expression. He shifted a lopsided stack of papers from the desk to the floor, and pulled Dantalion's folded square of parchment towards him. "What's this?" he asked calmly.

"That," said the Prince with the air of someone unveiling his life's work, "is the first message to arrive from your wonderful spy."

"Alocas?" said the King, turning the square of parchment over in his hands. "He sent this?"

Dantalion waved his hand. "Yes. And about time, too. I was beginning to fear that he had turned against us. Perhaps I was wrong – he may have only turned double-agent."

Berillan ignored his son as he unfolded the message. The King watched his son out of the corner of his eye. Despite his snide comments, Dantalion could not help craning his head to get a closer look, and Berillan derived great satisfaction from the younger man's disappointment. "It's in code," stated Dantalion heavily.

"Certainly it is in code," smiled Berillan. "He and I devised it. We couldn't let this sort of information fall into the wrong hands, now, could we?" He smoothed the paper out on the top of his desk, and perched his spectacles on his nose.

"King Berillan," he translated for Dantalion's benefit, "I have reached the base camp of the Freemen, and they have taken me back into the fold. The leader is still the necromancer Gamori, and her lieutenant is the necromancer Raum. Under them they have about twenty witches and sorcerers, and fifty men, a few of whom can work simple Free Magic spells. The base camp is located deep within the Great Sickle Wood, moving every three to ten days to locations decided by Gamori and her advisors. The number of spies is unknown, as is the number of agents they have through the Kingdom. Spies and agents have been posted in Belisaere and at the Wall. These agents, when reporting to Gamori, come and go hooded and masked, making identification impossible. I have been posted to spy on the making of the Lesser Stones, in hopes of finding a way to break them. I will notify you of any further plans that come to my notice. Alocas."

The King lowered the scrap of parchment and peered over his glasses at his son. "It seems that our spy is keeping his promise, after all," he remarked.

Dantalion let out a snort. "You think so? And he has such useful information, too. The base camp is in the Great Sickle Wood, but is always moving. There are agents at the Wall and in Belisaere, but he does not know who they are. He appears helpful, but he sends us a whole lot of nothing."

"Are you not being a little harsh?"

"Not at all, my lord."

The King suppressed a smile. Dantalion really did not think he was being harsh in the slightest. Berillan loved his son, but the Crown Prince could be a little too sensible sometimes. He thought like Berillan's father had, the King before him: he had a straightforward, militaristic mind, and was an ideal soldier. Berillan was more interested in cultural pursuits, such as philosophy and art. True, he had been an able warrior, but lacked somewhat the ruthless efficiency of his father and son.

"Agents in Belisaere," the Prince was muttering to himself. "Who could they be? People in the palace, perhaps?"

"That is very likely," remarked Berillan, "if the Freemen are as powerful as Alocas has led me to believe. A few servants, no doubt, and perhaps some of the courtiers or soldiers."

"I will look into it."

"Don't look too hard," the King warned. "We do not want to risk the Freemen catching Alocas. He is our only link to them."

Dantalion dropped into a chair, resting his elbows on his knees. It was an uncharacteristic show of fatigue for him. "We have one spy, and they have several," he summarized. "Not good." The younger man raised his head and narrowed his eyes. "I do not mean any offence, but what makes you believe that you can trust Alocas?"

Berillan leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face tiredly. "I spoke with him several times during his imprisonment," he pointed out. "Alocas was eighteen when he joined the Freemen, and in that he was led along by his best friend. The Freemen recruit heavily from poor villages like his, hiring adventurous young men under delusions that they will reform the Kingdom. Alocas told me he wanted to leave, but was too afraid to do so."

"And was it fear that made him try to kill my daughter?" Dantalion demanded in a dangerously low voice.

The King felt a stab of anguish. He understood too well what his son was going through. Hadn't his three eldest children died before he could see them grow to adulthood? Every parent lived under the assumption that their children would outlive them. "I do not deny the cruelty in his attempt," Berillan answered. "It was a wicked, cowardly thing to do. But Alocas was not born an assassin – he was made one. There is a difference, Dantalion."

"He is still an assassin."

"Not anymore," said the King sternly. "From what Alocas tells me, he never wanted to be an assassin. He was one of the spies in Belisaere, dealing in information, and it was only his established position here at the palace that had him appointed to the task. According to him, he had never killed anyone before, and that fact remains true today."

Dantalion stood and paced impatiently. "You seem to put great store in what he tells you," the Prince remarked. "Why do you believe what he says, father? It is no great challenge to lie."

"We have had these arguments before," Berillan pointed out with a forced smile. "Trust me in this. We must take Alocas at his word." He turned back to the coded message, pushing his spectacles more securely onto his nose in order to scan the strange symbols. Dantalion stopped pacing and unconsciously straightened as they slipped back into the roles of King and Prince.

"He speaks of two necromancers, Gamori and Raum," said Berillan, re-reading the message. "The palace archives must be searched for any mention of them… Twenty witches and sorcerers are their accomplices. Have the scouting captains collect all records of encounters with witches and sorcerers in the last five years… Warn the foresters to keep an eye out for suspicious persons entering and leaving the Great Sickle Wood… We can do nothing for now about the spies and agents, but inform Ghidreth to be on her guard at the Wall. Also tell her to try to keep the knowledge of how to break the Lesser Stones as secret as possible." He put down the scrap of parchment and looked up at the Crown Prince, who nodded. Dantalion's memory was faultless. He had the peculiar talent of being able to recall every aspect of a conversation at a moment's notice, and never forgot an order once it had been given.

"Understood," the Prince confirmed. "Have the archives searched, ask for records from scouting captains, warn the foresters, and send Ghidreth a message." He hesitated before asking, "Will you bring this up at the Council meeting this afternoon?"

Berillan frowned and rubbed his chin. "The only ones in the palace who know the identity of our spy are you, I, Princess Penemue, and Sir Halban," he replied slowly. "The fewer people who know, the better. I will acquaint the Council with the information we have received, but nobody else must hear of it. Even Alocas does not know how many spies the Freemen have in the palace."

The Prince muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "I'll bet he does," but King Berillan pretended not to hear.

"Is that all?" he asked his son. When Dantalion nodded, he waved his hand. "Dismissed."

The Prince executed a crisp bow before leaving the room. Berillan folded his hands on his ornately-carved desk, studying the calluses on his fingers. Despite his assurances, King Berillan was having some doubts. He believed in Alocas' goodwill, but the Freemen had cruel methods to extract information. A great deal hinged on the spy's ability to remain silent.

"A man in blue, and a man in red," he murmured to himself, "each of them burning a body." He did not know which outcome would result from his actions, and he could only hope that the man in red was not him. He had seen too many of his loved ones die already.

The King looked down at the message in his hands. There was one sentence he had not translated for Dantalion. According to Alocas, the Freemen were planning another attempt on little Farelle's life. Alocas had provided enough information for them to successfully protect the young Princess, but the news would probably have driven his son over the edge. Dantalion need not know about this. Berillan pulled on a tasselled cord, and a servant poked his head around the door. "Nalgon," he said to the servant. "Have Sir Halban report to me immediately."

A/N: The scene I omitted from the last chapter included a bit of an explanation on how Alocas comes by the information in his message. To summarize, the Freeman spymaster Seare reassigns Danel's old partner Morax, and pairs up Alocas and Danel. They are instructed to spy on the making of a Lesser Stone to possibly find out how to break it. Alocas asks why they aren't stationed at the Wall to find out this information, or at Belisaere where he and Danel have been posted before and can use their network of connections. Seare replies enigmatically that they already have those areas covered (insert dramatic music).