Balthazar was furious. He been interrupted while looking into his obsidian mirror for some urgent news, but the news that interrupted his visions actually was important. A ship carrying items of interest to him had been captured by pirates in an inlet to the north. The items were among the things captured, though the ship and her crew had been released mostly unharmed.
"Send Lothar to me, I have a job for him." Balthazar growled as he crumpled the parchment and threw it at the page that brought it to him. The boy meekly bowed and scurried out of the room. Fetching Lothar was an unpleasant enough task, but provoking the master's rage further would be much worse.
Lothar shambled to Lord Balthazar's chambers. He had exactly recovered from the incident with that had nearly killed him and rendered him an outlaw. Or did it kill him, and Balthazar had merely taken his soul into bondage? He had no memories of what had happened after blacking out from loss of blood. What he did remember was the excruciating pain he felt when he woke up, and the sense that he was not alone in his head. He since learned that he was not, there was…something…bound to this prosthetic arm that had a mind of its own, something that Balthazar had used to control him like a puppet on more than one occasion when he was angered, which was something that happened more and more often. The Lord had become obsessed with a black mirror he had, to the point that servants whispered it was making him mad. Lothar thought he had always been mad, and didn't see how a mirror could make any difference, magical or not.
He entered the room, dressed in a fine blood red velvet tunic whose wide sleeves almost disguised the black iron gauntlet fused to his right arm, replacing the hand that was bitten off by a werewolf. His movements were stiff on the right side of his body and the left side of his face; Balthazar had done something to his whole body to make the gauntlet move with a thought like a real hand. The only price was that he could not remove this new arm, or get it wet. And the terrible presence that was always with him.
"What do you know of the Brothers of Equality, Lothar?" Balthazar demanded.
He's in one of his moods. Wonderful, thought Lothar.
"I know they are a group of rag-tag pirates who stalk the north coast and its river harbors, and that they give the Nobility in the area a great deal of trouble. But my kingdom was landlocked, Sire, I never had to deal with such riffraff directly."
"Pirates, hmmm? Well, they have stolen something very important to me, and to my plans. Something I can't replace. I want you to go north and find my ally, Lord Fulk. Take as many of my men as you need, but get me back my things. I don't care how you do it."
"As you wish, my lord," Lothar sighed. He hated taking orders from anyone. It was beneath his birthright. "I just need to know what it is I would be looking for."
"That information," Balthazar spat, "Is none of your business. It is crucial to my plans of conquest, and I cannot afford to let my enemies know what I have in development."
"But with all due…uh…respect…Sire, It is difficult to know what this Lord Fulk and I should get from these pirates if we don't know what it looks like or even what it is."
"I said it is secret!" Balthazar hissed. A shooting pain ran from the bloodstone gem on the back of the gauntlet's wrist up Lothar's arm and into his skull, causing him to stagger with pain. The red flecks on the opaque green stone flared as the pain increased, looking for a moment like blood splattering on jade.
"There are spies everywhere! I know King Gerard and his elderly uncle suspect me. I can't afford to let them know anything. Do you understand? Say what you want to cover your tracks, but this mission is secret, do you understand?"
Lothar gulped and nodded, and hurried away from his Master's chambers as soon as he could stand steadily to gather troops and equipment. He considered running away from this awful place, but Balthazar would know and make him suffer if he did, he was sure of it, damn this gauntlet and stone that flashed bloody red whenever his master's will was present.
The Smurfs came to Gerard's castle with Clockwork for a visit and also to deliver the map of the marshlands to be delivered to Sir Johan, Peewit and Maenad. Gerard took the map until a suitable messenger could be found. He mused aloud that it would be a good idea to send a squire not currently in the service of any knights or nobles to Johan. The only problem was that the map itself was tiny, and written in some unknown language, as it was written by and for Smurfs and not humans long ago. As the Smurfs followed Gerard and Clockwork to catch up on things, Sabina took close note of where he put the map. It was the last thing she needed to put her own plans into action. Excusing herself to read up on the books Dame Barbara had sent with her, she snuck into the woods near the river with a large bag.
As midnight approached, the castle was unusually still. The king had thrown a lavish feast to honor Clockwork and to bid farewell to Francesca for the time being. A few people staggered from the great hall, and the guards ignored them. Most were strangers from Francesca's court anyway, and they would be leaving in the morning.
Sabina crept from her room to the great hall and joined the few remaining revelers, dressed in a man's tunic, hose, and boots, and wrapped in a heavy hooded cloak. It was not her usual green and rust-red boy's attire; she did not want to be recognized by anyone. She wandered to Gerard's throne room, where he had placed the map under a bell jar on a shelf. The room was empty, and her soft leather boots made shuffling sounds in the dark. Carefully, she lifted the jar and put the map into a pouch on her belt. She replaced it with a seal ring she had taken from Gerard's study when he was showing it to her and Francesca.
"I'm sorry, cousin," she whispered sadly.
"Hey, boy!" a voice called from behind her as she crept from the throne room to the heavy painted door that led outside. "what are you doing here?"
"I, uh, I got…lost…I'm With the Princess, you see, and I'm not familiar with this, uh..." she said in the deepest voice she could manage, pulling her cloak tight over her face. She stumbled around a bit in an imitation of drunkenness.
"This is a restricted area, boy. Tell the other pages the same. We'll let you go this time, but the Princess will hear about it if we catch you here again, young…"
"…Dennis" Sabina replied. "Sorry. I'm sorry. It won't happen again," she said, bowing and hurrying out of the keep.
Success. She ran to the stables and grabbed the dun mare Gerard had given her to use, Sibylla. She snuck out of the gates, giving the guards the same story about being lost and drunk when asked what she was up to.
Once in the woods, she raced to the hollow tree where she had hidden her pack. It was somewhat light out; the moon was almost full in the clear sky. Sabina looked around, terrified of being caught after getting this far. The only sounds she could hear were the normal sounds of the forest on a summer night: the cry of insects, the croaking of frogs, and the calls of the owls who hunted them. She must have been near the river, judging by the presence of frogs. She removed her cloak and lifted the pack from the hollow of the tree as silently as possible, jumping with every clunk and clink it made. She drew out a sword, one of Johan's gifts to her on a belt, which she buckled on. She had also brought a bow and quiver of arrows, which she slung across her back.
Taking a pair of scissors and a mirror, she gathered her long red hair onto a ponytail, and clipped it off, then proceeded to give herself bangs as best she could in the dim light, laying the hair gently on her cloak. She looked in the mirror again, and looked herself over. No, this still wouldn't do. Between her distinctive hair, her pretty face, and figure that still curved into an hourglass shape despite the linen corset she wore to conceal it, she could never pass as a boy. She would have to use the ring.
She pulled the ring she had stolen from Peewit out of the pouch on her belt and slid it on. I hope this works. Please, please let it work. She looked into the mirror again, and smiled when a brown haired youth with an angular, masculine face looked back at her. She didn't feel physically different, though. She wondered if her voice had also changed.
"Sibylla, come here, please." The voice was deeper, not completely unlike her own, but different enough for Sibylla to look at her, confused.
"It's all right, Sibylla, it's me." She took the horse by the halter and stroked her muzzle. Sibylla sniffed her human, and relaxed. The scent was the same. Sabina hoisted the pack onto Sibylla's back, and secured it. She took another piece of parchment from her belt pouch. It was not the Smurfs' map, but a letter introducing Sir Johan to the squire Gerard had chosen to accompany him to find the Brothers of equality, named Dennis. It bore Gerard's own personal seal, making it official to anyone who would read it. "Dennis" put the scroll safely back in the leather pouch with the map and spurred Sibylla towards the river, where she shook the cloak over the river, letting her long hair be carried away by the current before galloping out of the woods and to the road that went north. She was free from her royal duties at last. She took a deep breath, paused, and looked back at the lights of her cousin's castle. Would it be for the last time? She only hoped Gerard, her uncle, the Smurfs and yes, even Dame Barbara and Prince Andrew wouldn't worry about her too much.