“Welcome to the Thirsty Goat ! The most famous inn of the north road ! The entire Empire knows of this inn as a place of warmth, songs and delicious soup ! And, delicious ale ! Tired of camping outside, in the rain and the mud ? Here, look at our spacious rooms ! Tired of eating berries and hard-as-rock bread ? Here, have some of our special soup made of fish, potato and vinegar ! I can guarantee you that no one has ever complained about our soup ! No stomach aches, no food poisoning ! If people ever fell ill because of this soup, well, they must have been caught by... bandits, because we never heard of them, haha !

-grandiloquent innkeeper promoting the Thirsty Goat”

* * *

The bodyguard

Faelne looked straight forward and kept an expressionless face as she stood guard in front of the door. The creaking of the bed, the flesh smashing against flesh, the heavy breathing and the moans, such sounds coming from inside the room were all unnecessary hints regarding what her master was doing.

He sounds quite lively, this evening...

Faelne wasn't disturbed, of course, and neither were the two other girls waiting outside the room with her. These things happened, regardless of the place – today it was with Gilia, in an inn called the Thirsty Goat, but yesterday it was with her, on the grass still wet from the rain. Tomorrow it would be Yaelga, and then Celiane, in a tent or on the hard ground or whatever.

The location wasn't an issue to any of them. They had done it in worse places than in the dirt and in the mud. It was their job after all. That, and protecting the master. Of course, it was still better to do it on a bed, in an inn for instance. It was never really pleasing to feel the dirt in the cleft of her buttocks, to feel the insects crawling against her skin, to feel the cold, wet mud on her legs, but complaining was a weakling thing ! Faelne was an experienced fighter, she had seen and felt worse things during her training and her battles.

What's a little mud on your butt when you have witnessed hideous gashes and severed limbs, and severed some of these limbs yourself ?

And anyway, whether they'd do it in a bed or in the grass wasn't something they could decide. Though to a certain extent, they could predict where they'd do it, since they knew the itinerary. He liked to alternate between the two Imperial guards and the two Magic-maids as the days passed, and he went through the four girls in the same order every time, as a ritual.

The coitus sounded like it was dragging on. It made sense, since yesterday he had been quick with her – he, too, must have preferred the comfort of a bed. Not that waiting here was a bad thing. It wasn't as if the guards were obligated to stay outside, in fact he quite liked it when it happened with more than two people.

But they were guards and so they felt they had to do their job and keep watch. You never knew what sort of creepy fellows you could encounter in these countryside inns. What if an assassin managed to get close enough because the four guards were slacking off in the master's bed !

That would be the most humiliating thing ever.

The thought of being shamed by her own incompetence must have shown on Faelne's face, because Celiane smirked as she glanced at her. The Magic-maid wasn't mocking Faelne or anything, of course. The four girls were sister-in-arms, comrades and teammates, there had never been bad blood between them.

That was half of the reason why the four of them were chosen by the master for his venture : he knew there would never be discord among them. The other half was, simply, that they were the best of the best.

And obviously, like all the women protecting him, they were sterile. You couldn't possibly hope to serve him with the risk of pregnancy. It was already bad for a female guard to manage with her menstrual cycle, so if they also had to check for pregnancy every single time... And that was... a lot of times. He liked to do it a lot – once a day was apparently enough while they were travelling, but back then at the Palace he basically spent his days doing it. Therefore Faelne, too, spent her days doing it when she wasn't keeping watch.

“You're lost in thoughts,” Celiane suddenly called out.

Well, that was true. An improper behaviour from an elite guard !

“What were you thinking about ?” the Magic-maid continued, but didn't wait for her answer. “About sex, I bet. Sex with his highness.”

Faelne clicked her tongue and looked sideways. “So what ?”

“Nothing. I was just wondering how often you were thinking about that. Isn't doing it enough for you ? Some sort of pervert you must be !” she said before letting a giggle out.

Like I said, so what ! It's better to enjoy the whole thing rather than suffer it like one of the Emperor's slaves.

“Cut her some slack,” Yaelga intervened. “Can you really blame her for her thoughts, when Gilia sounds like she's having the time of her life behind that door ?”

Celiane shrugged. “These two are taking it way too personally. Don't forget that your main duty isn't to enjoy his highness' di-...”

The maid didn't finish her sentence, and instead was staring in the direction of the stairs with suddenly wary eyes. Faelne and Yaelga turned their gaze to the stairs, ready for anything. There was a knight climbing the last steps. One damn fishy knight. Dented plate armour under a ragged cloak. No crest or anything of the sort that could help identify the stranger, since the cloak was covering most of the body, but the armour's style at least clearly told that it was Imperial made.

A pursuer from the Palace, maybe. But why here and now ? And if they managed to find us, they wouldn't send such a shady knight, only one at that. Unless he's an assassin.

Faelne's two comrades must have followed the same train of thought, because they were readying themselves for battle. The knight, as if catching on the guards' hostility, threatened to unsheathe his sword, showing a few centimetres of his steel blade.

The knight entered a silent face-off with the three women, with only the chatting sounds coming from the main hall in the first floor, and the coitus noises getting louder and louder in the room.

He will soon climax ! We must make sure not to disturb him at this critical moment by having some carnage occurring right here. At least, not a noisy one.

A glance to Celiane and Yaelga confirmed her that the three were of the same opinion. No screaming allowed, it'll have to end in a silent fashion.

Celiane can use sound magic to limit the noise, if need be, though it's not really her specialty. She doesn't quite do well with stealth kills.

But a paralysing bolt on the steel plate would allow Faelne and Yaelga to effortlessly thrust their blades in the armour's gaps. Through the slit of the visor would be the quickest, cleanest way, therefore the wisest.

As the guards and the knight were about to indulge in a bloody, deadly struggle, someone else could be heard climbing the stairs. To Faelne's surprise, it was a young lady – she merely assumed that, seeing that the figure's pale face had red lips and was otherwise hidden under a decorated hood, only long blonde hair flowing out.

“Eri-... Hrm, Eric, why are you standing in the middle of the way ?” the lady spoke, in a strange, uneasy voice. She was probably shy. “Eric, you big oaf, it seems you are scaring these girls, can you not see ?”

The knight let go of his sword's handle, simply bowed his head to the three guards, and walked past them until he reached a door further back in the corridor and entered the room. Only then Faelne and Yaelga lowered their weapons.

“Forgive my friend for his rudeness, I'm sure he meant no harm.” the lady concluded before doing a curtsey. She then walked – more like skipped, actually – toward the room, and Faelne only had the time to catch a faint, mischievous smile on the girl's face.

Cute, she thought. Perhaps she's a noble daughter eloping with her knight, like in those stories ?

The reverse of Faelne's situation, in a way. After all, she was one of the knights which the prince was eloping with.

Speaking of the prince, it sounded like he had finished his business. Gilia's moans had ended, in any case. Celiane was still staring in the direction of the room in which the lady and the knight were. She was probably using magic to make sure they posed no threat. A zealot, that maid was, but Faelne had to admit that it made her the most trustworthy and reliable guard of the four.

And at least she was using scouting magic, she wasn't one of these impulsive, hot-blooded and stupid bodyguards that would cast a magic missile at the first beggar coming within sight, out of paranoia and misplaced suspicion.

The prince had no need for impulsive guards, after all. Detachment was an important requirement for this job. The guards had to devote themselves to their master, push aside their morals and principles, and even put their own body at his disposal. Of course, Faelne, didn't exactly mind the body thing, so that was a plus.

He was rather gentle with the girls, and he was even good-looking, she'd say. Sure, he'd grope here and there from time to time, and recently the dirt and the mud were also certainly small issues, but she wasn't about to brood over these petty matters.

Eventually, the door of the prince's room opened. The guards bowed, though they had been forbidden from greeting him with 'your highness' or 'prince Alcidel' in public places, since he was supposed to stay anonymous. Things like bowing and calling him master were fine, he could then pass as a travelling noble.

Not that there was really any need for greetings, for he had just been in the room for less than an hour. But they bowed anyway.

“Let's have dinner,” Alcidel said, not bothering to ask if there had been any sort of trouble while he had been busy. He must have known that his guards would mention anything they felt they had to mention.

The five took the stairs and went to sit in the inn's main hall, waiting for their food. And as the guards waited, they listened. They listened to the bards, they eavesdropped on the chats, they watched the people. Alcidel still had his network of informants even though he wasn't in the Palace anymore, but that was precisely the issue. It wasn't practical at all to meet with the spies while the prince was travelling north, so the maid's sound magic was welcome to get wind of the rumours and whatnot in the meantime.

And of course, they were a couple of hot topics that came back again and again recently. The news of the northern campaign, for instance. Oh, that thing was a massive mess. Angry people shouting angrily at other angry people, everyone angrily debating about warfare, politics, and fancying themselves a general or a strategist as they tried to explain and justify why they lost a war impossible to lose. Or, in the worst case, trying to explain why they didn't really lose the war. Amusing things like propaganda or conspiracies were thrown in the debates.

But the prince and his escort knew the truth, for the spies always managed to send the important information. Karia indeed lost in a unforeseen clash against an enemy mage, her army was thrown in confusion and chaos, suffering heavy losses, and so the Empire was suddenly defeated in a single day.

It was absurd, but it was the truth.

Another fashionable debate these days revolved around the Imperial Palace. Whispers about the Emperor's health and the Imperial family's struggle for succession. That, indeed, was also something the prince and his guards would be entirely aware of.

After all, Faelne herself suspected her prince to be the cause of the Emperor's illness. Why would he poison his own father only to leave and let his younger brother inherit the throne, she didn't know – but his decision to suddenly leave the Palace without prior notice to anyone, that was quite suspicious.

Whether he actually did it or not, it wasn't as if Faelne would stop serving him. She had pledged her life to him. She'd give her life for him, even if he were to become the most evil and disgusting person in the world.

Someone came to their table, bringing them five bowls of soup. Faelne sniffed it, and by the smell alone she knew this thing was a disease in the form of a soup. She observed with confusion as Celiane used magic to make the soup boil, and then watched with horror as the maid gulped the whole bowl at once, barely hiding a grimace once she was done. Could it be that she hoped for the liquid to be safe once boiled ? Stupid woman.

Now, now, where's the zealot always speaking about duty and saying how protecting the prince is our most important task ? How the hell are you going to protect anyone if that soup of diseases ends up poisoning you !?

The hall became suddenly very loud – it was already loud, that was to say that it became deafeningly loud – and cheers, applauses and unbearable bellowing occurred as the bard just finished a song about Roharl and one of his dragon-slaying episodes. It was one of Roharl's most famous stories, the one in which he battled against four dragons, four ! And won the fight unharmed ! Sure, the songs embellished things, for instance they rarely dared to mention how the dragons were merely babies. But then again, even these baby dragons were already bigger than an ox and older than the regular gramps.

Well, it was both a popular story and an amazing feat, in any case.

“And now, miladies, milords, a darker, sadder song. A tribute to our beloved Great Sorceress, who perished at the hand of heretic demons and their ignoble servant, Azcheron !.”

The hall became silent, a tense and gloomy atmosphere setting in almost instantaneously. A woman was crying in a corner. The song hasn't even begun, you damn crybaby !

“She who braved the dangers of the heretic north,

Carrying on her shoulders all our hopes and our dreams,

Leading her proud army, she would only go forth,

Till she reached Pelirise, and the demons' vile schemes.”

The bard plucked a few strings of his harp, and a flutist began to play a atrociously melodramatic tune.

“The battle she'd have won, were it not, alas, for...

A forbidden magic, a venomous dark spell !

Some abomination, an hideous eyesore !

That cruel, evil mage, monster in human shell,

Prayed and called out to those unfathomable gods.

The power to vanquish our beloved hero,

Was bestowed upon him, and against all the odds...

Azcheron killed our light, our shining inferno !”

Screams and hysteric yells. What, the demon scum, they dared murder the general, the sorceress, the hero of flames ! As if the room couldn't get any louder, children started to cry like animals having their throats cut.

Prince Alcidel didn't react so outrageously when he heard the news from his spies. He simply shrugged and said that it was to be expected – that he had actually been waiting for the Saint to face the Great Sorceress Karia at some point, and that he knew Azcheron would come out victorious.

A question remained in Faelne's mind. How and when did Alcidel do the necessary research about the Saint, to the point where he'd be able to judge of his ability and even know he'd go in the north ? Even chancellor Varymiel took time to figure out the Saint's destination after that scandalous audience.

“Behold, citizens of the mighty Empire !

Azcheron is his name, the name of great evil !

The sorceress watches, from the realm of fire,

her soul will not find rest while this Azcheron lives !”

What started as a sad ballad was now an invitation to hunt down the man. The rest of the song couldn’t be heard, for the people in the hall were now having an insult contest, in addition to the everlasting screaming. Names and curses Faelne had never thought of reached her ears. She remembered what little she saw of the Saint during the audience, and she almost chuckled as she imagined his reaction to some of these insults.

* * *

The next day, they left the inn and continued riding north. The Free Cities weren't their destination, of course not. Bad time for Imperial people to go there.

In the evening, they made camp on the roadside. Yaelga was cleaning herself for the prince's pleasure time tonight, but while he usually liked to watch this moment, right now he was staring in the distance, in the forest and the obscurity. He then suddenly got up and walked away from the camp, toward the forest. The guards followed, and once inside the forest he started to look around, as if he was searching for something. Or someone.

A branch cracked, and theatrically, a man came from behind a tree. A knight wearing a black-painted armour. Alcidel didn't seem wary of him, but then again, what this meeting was about was made obvious by the prince's sudden decision to ride away from the road in some quiet place where people wouldn't go. He only did that sort of things when he had to meet his spies.

The knight was a spy.

He took of his helmet, revealing a middle-aged face, badly shaven. “You highness,” he said, bowing.

“Now that's a surprise, Rudolph. I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon. Weren't you supposed to stay in the north and keep an eye on the Saint, acting like his friend ?”

“Apologies, my prince, but I am still doing so, only I resigned myself to watching from afar. Not even two days passed after Karia's defeat when he suddenly decided to return to the capital. I couldn't very well tag along, it would have raised even more suspicions.”

“...'Even more' suspicions, you say ?”

“The Saint and the lady Verald are indeed wary of me. They also happen to know I am moving on the countess' orders, so... there is that complication...”

Alcidel frowned, which was a rare sight. He was usually so nonchalant, or at least tried his best to appear nonchalant – Faelne and his most trusted guards knew very well that the prince wasn't the scatterbrain he liked to pass himself for. Well, not always.

“They happen to know about that ? And how, I wonder, did they happen to know that ?”

Rudolph shrugged. “I told them.”

Alcidel's frown was now hidden by his hand, as he was pinching the bridge of his nose. “I was thinking about being grateful to the countess Ravilna for lending me a capable man like you, but now I see she also chooses her subordinates according to those whims of hers...”

“There's no need to worry. It would have been even more suspicious if I had tried to keep silent. What I told them is inconsequential. They already knew I was working for the countess, and I certainly didn't mention that her orders were to play the spy for you. And by confessing that way, I got rid of my tiny guilt.”

“Your guilt is the last thing I care about... If they find out that you also work for me, they'll link me to the countess.” the prince grumbled.

This whole thing feels overly convoluted. I didn't know about all that ! Why would the prince work together with the Ravilna house ? They're supposed to back the Fifth Princess...

Once again, Faelne must have been making a peculiar expression, because Celiane gave her a mocking look that felt like she was saying 'you suck at politics, don't even bother with this conversation' or something like that.

“Do you at least know why they'd want to return the the capital now ?” the prince inquired, before apparently realizing something. “Oh, never mind,” he eventually said as if he remembered the biggest blunder he made in his entire life. “Still, they won't exactly be welcomed. People will hunt them down as soon as they find them. You may have to do more than simply watching.”

Rudolph scoffed. “Yet I think they're doing pretty well for now, without my help. You do realize that I'm currently following them, and that this meeting with your highness is purely coincidental. They are about a day ahead of me, it's very likely you passed them without even recognizing them.”

Alcidel glanced at his guards, silently questioning if they had seen anything. He only got shaking heads as an answer.

The Saint wasn't in the hall back then, of that I'm sure. He'd have surely blown up the whole inn, had he heard what was being said about him !

“Well, I don't intend to meet with the Saint, and I don't intend to let him meet with me either. He'd probably kill me or something, to bring more attention upon him,” the prince said jokingly. Was it a joke, though ?

Gilia stepped in. “If I may ask, your highness, about the reason of their return ? I believe you know of it.” She must have noticed the expression and the tone of frustration he had earlier.

“I may or may not have sent assassins to end the life of some of his acquaintances. The venture may or may not have partly failed, and one of his friends may or may not have witnessed the whole thing.”

“The Academy thing, I see. Had you sent me instead of these amateurs, I would not have failed you, my prince,” Gilia humbly concluded before bowing.

“Doesn't matter now.” He turned to Rudolph. “Keep watching the Saint. If anything out of the ordinary happens, well, you know, tell me.”

As they left Rudolph with his tree, and walked back to their camp, Faelne couldn't resist asking the prince.

“Your highness, what does 'anything out of the ordinary' means ? We are talking about the Saint, so...”

Alcidel sighed. “...Ha, I don't know. That's the point of having someone resourceful like Rudolph watching him. Since they already know each other, he can interact with him and help him if necessary, he can do anything to become his friend, really. Something that my own spies can't do without having that Verald woman stabbing them wth her sword. I have no idea how helpful he was during the battle with Karia, of if he did his job at all, but well...”

“Why would you want him to befriend the Saint ?”

“Because then I can learn if the damn guy is planning to destroy the Empire or something like that. I have my reasons to think he'd do so. The assassination thing at the Academy was because he was already very close to ruining all the good work I put into prepping my brother for the throne. ”

“Care to explain, your highness ?” Celiane wondered.

“Hm. I guess I owe you that for following me around... Well, the reason's simple ! Being the Emperor is a hassle. I don't like hassles. I don't want to end up like my father either. So it's easier to have my brother do that thing. He'll make a good ruler anyway, so that's a plus.”

“Not that, your highness. We already know you're a sleazy, lazy bum. About the Saint ?”

“Oh. Well, it's a long story. You see, all this time I spent in these awful archives back at the Palace, it was to confirm that everything would work out perfectly. I studied laws and law history, to make sure that there wouldn't be any sort of dumb rule that would force me to sit on the throne. And I found one ! The horror. Can you imagine ?”

“I'm sure we can, your highness. No one in their right mind would want to see you on the throne.”

“You agree, then. So I looked into it. It was some very old thing mentioning a time when only death could relieve a prince from the succession struggle. Apparently it was the Second Emperor who repealed this law for some unknown reason. I'd be grateful for that, if only it had been a legit thing. Turns out he had no right to do that, but people apparently allowed him to do whatever he wanted, and just let that pass while he ruled. Then they forgot about it, or something of the sort. Still, records of this whole mess exist, and if people would only hear about it, well, they'd gladly follow the true law and assassinate me promptly to make way for my brother, just in case they felt he needed even more legitimacy. And I don't want to die, obviously.”

“Can you get to the point, your highness ?” Celiane hurried him. “Without the unnecessary information, please.”

“Ha ! You should watch your tongue, or else I'll stick mine between your legs, tonight instead of tomorrow. Fine, so... So I burnt the book mentioning that law, of course. But then I figured, there must have been others ! And you know, I'm friends with the countess Ravilna, and by the way, she has taken quite the interest in Azcheron, I must say. How inept the whole thing is, I still can't believe it. She didn't even need to spy on him, she only had to hear it from her good friend Hector Talir, who himself heard it from the Academy's librarian ! She's friends with everyone, that woman... Well, when I say that I'm friends with her, and that she has a lot of friends, in truth no one, especially not me, is friends with her. You can't trust her, that's for sure.”

“Your highness, the point. This legendary thing, which we believe to be lost amidst the vast lands of your lengthy explanation... We would very much like to hear it.”

“...So, I heard from Ravilna that some scholars were researching something in ancient books about the Empire's history. I turned green when I learned that one of the books they borrowed from the library was exactly the one I found in the Palace's archives, only in Dragon tongue. It got even worse when I learned that this search was linked to Azcheron. Had he stumbled upon this critical piece of information, he would have made my life a living hell. So I asked a couple of maids to go and assassinate those scholars once we had left the Palace, away from all possible suspicions, haha !”

Why does he sound so excited ? Where's his usual aloofness ? It's very out of character.

“Your highness sounds like a villain confessing his evil plan,” Yaelga admitted.

“Yeah, a great villain I am, since the evil plan failed. They didn't even destroy the book, and I got only one of the scholars, but now it'll attract too much attention if I make another attempt. We can't have half the country looking at that damn book for being the cause of two assassination attempts. I'd be doomed.”

“Perhaps I've missed something, but I don't see why that would make you think that Azcheron wants to... destroy the Empire, or force you to sit on the throne – but that's the same thing. He seems to have interest in dragons, perhaps he was just researching about them. I think you may have jumped to an early conclusion, your highness.”

“Why, you ask... He is friends with the countess Ravilna, isn't that reason enough ? As soon as she told me about him, right before his expedition in the west, I knew he was trouble. She was pleased ! Only people without a soul can please Beatrice Ravilna. That's why I asked her to send someone to keep an eye on the Saint, when she also told me he was riding north.”

Didn't you just say that no one was her friend ? And why would you ask HER to spy on the Saint when you clearly don't even trust her !? Aren't you trying too hard to involve her in everything ? Do you like her or do you hate her, which is it ?

Faelne realized something else, much more important. “Then, your highness, are you telling us that we left the Palace only because of your petty assassination attempt ? Can we go back now ? I like comfy beds more.”

“Huh. We can't go back, obviously. Not until Hadrias is crowned anyway. It shouldn't be long, since the Emperor is sick and dying.”

She deemed the moment right for the daring question. “Forgive me, but... Did you poison the Emperor ?”

Alcidel stared at her. “What do you think, Faelne ?”

“I do not know, your highness. That's why I'm asking.”

“Does it matter if I poisoned my father ? The result is the same, whether he dies of old age or something else. Hadrias will become Emperor.”

His tone was suddenly back to something very cold and distant, yet nonchalant. Indifferent would be the word. Like the usual Alcidel.

“And why can't we simply assassinate the Saint, your highness ?” Gilia asked, probably thinking she'd be up for the job.

“Now here's a strange idea !” he said, smiling as if he was revelling in his own inconsistencies. There wasn't really any way to know when he was lying and when he was saying the truth, but the worst was when he was purposely being cryptic.

Truly, of Alcidel and Azcheron, Faelne wasn't sure which one posed the greatest threat to the Empire.