Chapter Eleven
In all the time Devona had known Duke Barradin, first as her teacher, then as her commanding officer, she had never seen the king's right hand man boggle. She had never seen him so taken aback that he was stunned to silence like he was the moment Prince Coran's procession came to stop in front of the main doors of the palace of Rin.
Nonetheless, Devona couldn't help but feel something was… off… about the arrival. It didn't have the joyous feel she had been expecting. Coran himself looked extremely put out and disinterested the moment the spires of the palace became visible… a coolness that had not warmed as he adroitly dismounted and starting giving orders to his Medical Krewe; the Asurans wasting no time unpacking the strider-led trolley carrying the indecipherable equipment that theoretically would be used to treat the ailing King of Ascalon.
"I had been told you still lived… but… I suppose I never believed it until now." Barradin stammered. "It is great news to see you again, your highness."
"Don't call me that ever again."
The voice was so cold that Devona almost couldn't believe that it came from the normally bright, intellectual and quiet prince. Barradin again was speechless, not that Coran paid him any more attention anyway, as his attention was again on his Krewe and the rest of the procession.
"There's no lift here, ladies and gentlemen, so we're going to have to carry all the equipment by hand." He declared. "The service stairwell should be broad enough, but it's going to be a bit of a hike. Don't take any more than you can reasonably carry… and make two or more trips if need be. Anything breaks, and you will be responsible for any and all costs."
Barradin seemed to recover his composure after Coran's frigid dismissal. The young prince was eyeing a large wooden crate marked "FRAGILE" five times on each visible side of the box, and Devona suspected probably carried the same on the bottom. At this point, Barradin said, "Prince Coran… can I be of assistance?"
"I am Headmaster Coran." The prince asserted. "And if you want to make yourself useful, find any object not labeled as 'fragile' and take it up to the king's private counsel room. I trust you're capable of that much."
"You there!" He suddenly shouted to the guards standing watch at the service gate grumpily. "If the Charr were about to attack, I suspect you'll have plenty of time to return to your 'posts'. Get over here and make yourselves useful!"
Barradin had clearly been expecting a certain climate to the triumphant return to the sole surviving heir of King Doric's line, and this was definitely not it. Devona understood that to some extent… she had been expecting something similar to what had no doubt been in the Duke's mind.
"Your highness… I do not understand…"
"You obviously can't comprehend either, because I already told you not to call me that." Coran growled as he crouched down before the crate he had been sizing up. "You will address me as Headmaster, or failing your ability to form that three-syllable word, 'professor' or 'sir' I suppose will do."
Yue, as per her nature, seemed to appear out of the thin air at Coran's side. In a voice that could have been mistaken for a whisper had it not been loud enough for Devona to clearly hear a handful of feet away, the assassin drawled, "If you want him quiet, I could garrote him quickly enough for you, Headmaster."
"While I appreciate your attempt to appeal to my deeply buried sadistic streak, I suspect such an action against a major noble of Ascalon in the heart of the kingdom would not be a particularly prudent move, even for someone as elusive as yourself." He said with a dry smirk.
He growled in frustration as he tested the weight of the crate, and deemed it not to be within his limits to handle alone. But the moment his voice uttered again, the icy tone had disappeared, "Devona, dear… hand what you've got there to Yue, and lend me your strength to this here."
The warrior started, but quickly complied, taking the other side across from the Prince, oblivious to the dark glare the assassin gave her as she handed off the three satchels she had slung over her shoulder. "Actually, let's switch sides." He said, "I'll guide us and you can provide the power."
As they rounded the box, Coran paused momentarily, and ordered, "Vekk… see who else you can stir up among the 'guard'. Tell them it is on their returned 'prince's' order and have them handle the rest of the more sturdy equipment. If we can get enough assistance, we won't have to send people back down to haul the remainder up."
With that, he took his position, and with a nod, signaled for Devona to hoist the crate up to her waist. It was not particularly heavy, she noted… but its size would have been cumbersome for one person to carry. "What is in here?"
"Microscopic equipment." Coran replied, his tone once again the soothing, gentle lilt that she was much more used to. Clearly whatever was bothering him had nothing to do with her… although she wasn't certain why she had that worry in the back of her mind. "I might be able to use it to see what is plaguing my father. It makes even the minutest of objects visible to the human eye."
"Oh." The warrior responded… even though the explanation had not helped much. Rather than try and futilely understand how such a device would work, she changed the topic to what was far more pressing in her mind. "Why… don't you want Barradin calling you 'prince'?"
Coran frowned. "Well, my dear… how would you have liked it had everyone called you 'Princess-to-be' instead of 'Captain' throughout your military career?"
Now that made sense.
"Becoming Headmaster of Atal Ra was something I earned. Granted, a large amount of death and tragedy came into play, but it wasn't something I was guaranteed to have… it wasn't something that was handed to me simply by the event called birth. I was chosen to lead the academy because I rose to the occasion, and had gained the knowledge and skill necessary to do the job better than anyone else. That title means far more to me than one I have simply because I'm my father's son."
Devona smiled. "I understand fully, Headmaster. And if it means anything, I approve of your choice."
"You of all people are not required to address me with any honorific." He retorted, returning her grin.
A loud, annoyed cough drew their attention. Yue was standing behind Devona, glowering and tapping her foot. "While I can appreciate the need to rest weary arms and legs, it does not appear that is the problem. So can we get moving so I can put these infernal bags down before they rip me apart at the shoulders?"
Coran's eyes widened, and Devona shared his embarrassment. She hadn't even realized they had stopped. Sheepishly, she nudged forward, prompting Coran to continue backing up the steps and to the next landing.
* * * * *
King Adelbern had seen many things in his life… a life he was certain was coming to an end. But at this point, he had never imagined he would see one of his sons alive. True, he had heard Vekk's claim… but those blessed words had rung hollow, like he was sure they did to most the people of Ascalon. Hope had been a bitter whisper for so long…
But to see his youngest, vital and matured, standing in the doorway to his darkened room, that bitter whisper became a booming song… in a matter of seconds, he could have sworn his health had turned completely around.
"Cor… an. My son…" He began, slowly pushing himself onto his elbows, before said son's hand not too gently pushed him back down onto his back.
"Do not move, please." Coran said flatly, and now that Adelbern's son was up close, the King could see the dark, impassive visage etched onto his facial features.
"Coran… what…?"
"I am trying to see if there is anything I can do to either ease your pain, or perhaps treat your condition, father." Coran answered, showing no signs of emotion. "Now, I need you to lie still while I perform the examination."
This wasn't right in Adelbern's mind. This was not his son… Coran had been bright, joyful, and thoughtful. He had all the wonderful traits of his mother. This man before him was cold, dark, and even a slight bit intimidating. The king gasped as a cold metal circle slid under the fold of his robe, and pressed against his heart.
"Do… not… move." Coran reiterated in annoyance; Adelbern had jerked at the same time he gasped, and apparently that was unacceptable to the doppelganger that was hovering over the king's bed. "I need to breathe in as deeply as you can, and exhale slowly. Repeat that until I tell you to stop."
The king complied, astonished to the point that he could do nothing else. What had happened to his son? Why was he acting this way? Could he still be that upset from…
"Thank you." Coran said, even as his voice didn't support any sense of thanks, pulling the disk away from the king's chest and startling the monarch from his thoughts. "Evident fluid in the lungs… a definite pallor…" The prince muttered, then yanked away the covers from over the king, and began prodding with his fingers not very gently along the king's flanks. "Tenderness of the upper chest… open your mouth, please, father."
When Adelbern obeyed, the king saw a small, bright light shining from what looked like a smooth stick, aimed towards his mouth. "What… are you…?"
"Keep your mouth open, please." The younger man nearly growled, the prince's fingers forcing open the king's jaw before once again aiming the small beam of light into Adelbern's throat. "Severe swelling of the tonsils and the respiratory tract… are you getting this down, Nevin?"
"Yes, Headmaster." An Asuran voice squeaked, drawing the king's attention. The small creature was holding a pad of what appeared to be paper and some form of featherless quill; the prince had apparently been dictating to the Asura.
"Very good." Coran said, straightening. "Have five blood samples taken, at least one from the chest cavity. Two, if my father can handle possible discomfort. Deliver them to me as soon as you can. I suspect I will have a diagnosis by the end of the night."
The prince then stalked out of the room without so much as a parting, leaving him at the mercy of four now very discomforting Asura, their black eyes unreadable as they held small pointy metal objects in their hands.
The hope that King Adelbern had momentarily held crashed violently as the first metal object poked him in his right side, the shock more painful than the actual insertion. As the king's blood filled the vial at the end of the pin-like skewer, Adelbern could only wonder what had happened to his son in the last nine years...