Chapter 22

A Plan of Discretion

It was not long before Daegan found himself again in Archduke Edmund’s office. With both Tanlor and Sir Keltin. Despite the amount he had drunk earlier in the evening, Daegan felt very sober. Painfully sober. He was sweating and despite the fire in the hearth next to him, he felt cold through to his bones.

“My men have been searching the palace, my lords,” Sir Keltin said, “from what we could gather, Ferath was working only with two other guards on your duty this evening, we found the rest of your guards and servants dead, Prince Daegan.”

“Dead? All of them?” Daegan breathed, Thalan… Poor dutiful Thalan.

“All but one, a woman named Kerala. We have not been able to locate her yet, but my guards noted that she had left the palace earlier this evening.”

“Do you think she was involved?” Daegan would never before have dreamed to question Kerala’s unbreaking loyalty. But he had never doubted Ferath either.

“Potentially… however we are more concerned with finding Ferath, he poses a much greater risk to your safety.” Keltin said, “the woman is a lesser priority.”

“She’s a member of my guard, you shouldn’t overlook her.” Daegan said and then thought it was very likely that the sexism inherent in their culture had created a blind spot that they simply weren’t capable of recognising such skills in a woman. The dismissive glances that Keltin and Duke Edmund exchanged supported Daegan’s suspicions.

“She is just as dangerous as Ferath,” Daegan affirmed, “she’s a skilled runewielder and warrior.”

“We also have not been able to figure out how he managed to disappear as you both claim,” Keltin responded, shifting the topic back to Ferath. He was decidedly uncomfortable talking about a woman with fighting ability.

“I don’t understand it either, Captain, but I know what I saw,” Tanlor replied. Daegan simply nodded along, deciding not to press the topic of Kerala at the moment. Ferath was still the primary concern. The reason for why was plaguing him most of all.

“For the Prince’s own safety, Duke Edmund,” Keltin continued “I think it’s best that we move him to a safehouse outside of the palace. With this assassin still loose inside the walls, we cannot ensure his safety.”

“He’s not an assassin,” Daegan said, “h-he’s Ferath… he’s my friend. He…” Daegan trailed off.

“I understand your confusion, Prince Daegan,” Duke Edmund said calmly, almost comforting, “I too have had assassination attempts on my life in the past. And to have the attack from your own men. I cannot imagine.”

“Why? Why would he do this?”

“I assure you, Prince Daegan. We will find Captain Ferath and interrogate him. But at the moment, Sir Keltin is right. We can only assume that Ferath will make another attempt on your life. Someone wishes you dead and there is the possibility that this is part of some scheme to sow distrust between our nations. We cannot allow that.”

“I need to send word to my brother,” Daegan nodded, “Lukane will know what to do, he can help me.”

“We will release a statement that there has been an attempt on your life and that we have moved you into a secured area of the palace. This will hopefully lure Ferath into a trap by Keltin’s men. You should write this story also to your brother, in case your attackers have spies in your brother’s court. Meanwhile, we will do everything we can to keep you safe.”

“You want me to lie to my brother?”

“No,” Edmund said reassuringly, “not a lie. I simply want you to shroud the specifics of where you are being kept. The assassin will expect us to keep you hidden and protected here so it is best you are kept outside of the palace. I assure, Prince Daegan, you will be kept safe. That is my primary concern.”

“If you would follow me, my lord?” Keltin said to Daegan, “There are a dozen of my men outside. We will escort you to your rooms and help you pack what you might need.” Daegan nodded and allowed himself to be shepherded from the office. His mind still reeled from the events on the night, and it was easier to simply go along rather than trying to figure out what he should do himself.

***

Tanlor rose to follow Keltin and the Daegan but Edmund caught his attention, indicating him to remain. Keltin nodded to him and closed the office door leaving Tanlor alone with the Archduke.

“You did well tonight, Tanlor,” Edmund began. His long grey moustaches were a whimsical choice for such an otherwise serious man but it was the fashion of the older gentlemen in the court. A close kept beard was the fashion of younger men, those that could grow them properly at least. Tanlor absently rubbed at his stubble.

“Thank you, my lord,” Tanlor replied and then added bitterly, “but I couldn’t stop Ferath from escaping, I should have been better. I knew something was off about him, I should have picked up on it sooner… alerted Keltin sooner.”

“A man lives today who wouldn’t have if it were not for you,” Edmund granted, “I shouldn’t have to explain to you how much of a disaster it would be for us to have a dead Reldoni prince on our hands. Your actions in protecting the man could well have prevented a war, Tanlor.”

“Surely it wouldn’t have come to that?” Tanlor asked, aghast.

“Foreign relations with the Reldoni are good. This is in no small part because of our steel trade, but we must never forget that Reldon is a heavily militant nation and King Abhran has been extending his territories aggressively over the past decade.”

“Of course, my lord, I am not as… familiar with international politics as others,” Tanlor confessed.

“No,” Edmund agreed, “but you are observant. Keltin believes there is a lot of potential in you.”

Tanlor felt a rise of pride and hope in him. It was no secret amongst the other Dukesguard that Keltin would soon be retiring.

Could this be it? He felt his shoulders twitch in excitement.

“I know that you want the promotion to Captain of the Dukesguard,” Edmund continued, “but the truth is this; you are still new to the guard and there are others who have been serving ten years and longer. You have not yet proven yourself worthy to be Captain.”

Tanlor nodded, “yes, sir. I understand,” he lied, resisting every urge in him to argue. He knew it would do no good, someone of his station didn’t argue with the Archduke.

He thought he had been so close. What if Harfallow forces her to marry Lord Hembook? He felt Danielle, his dream, his love… his life, slipping away. He felt his shoulders slump with the disappointment and he didn’t care.

Tanlor was about to ask to be dismissed but then the Archduke continued, “I know why you want it so badly,” he disclosed. Tanlor felt his eyes narrow slightly, it was unlikely that Edmund knew the true reason. He couldn’t know of his and Danielle’s relationship. How could he possible know and why would he have even cared to know?

“My lord?” Tanlor prompted. Not wanting to give anything away.

“Lady Danielle Harfallow,” Edmund offered, a smirk visible beneath the man’s moustache. Tanlor did not attempt to hide his surprise. As if reading his thoughts, the Archduke’s grin grew wider, “Not much happens in these walls without my knowledge, Tanlor.”

“I want,” Tanlor started, “I hope to marry her, my lord,” he admitted.

“I’m sure that you do,” Edmund replied, “there’s many men in my court that have been vying for both Duke Harfallow’s and Lady Danielle’s approval for years.”

“I’m aware,” Tanlor said, trying unsuccessfully to hide his frustration, “that doesn’t change the truth.”

“No, I doubt it does. My intent is not to discourage, Sir Tanlor,” Edmund said, the ghost of a predatory smile crossing his face, “I daresay it’s entirely possible that you might marry her someday.”

Tanlor’s eyebrows rose, “But Lord Harfallow, he said that—” the Archduke raised his hand, “—Garret Harfallow will be very impressed when I send him this letter,” Edmund interjected, picking up a sheet of paper from his desk, “it explains that one of my own personal guards—an honourable and dignified young man wishes to marry his daughter. It explains that I will be personally grateful if he were to accept this man’s request.” The Archduke said it all so matter-of-factly as if Tanlor’s entire life and ambition were the simplest thing in the world, his dreams came rushing into his grasp. He was overcome and was at a loss for what to say.

“T-thank you, my Lord”

“No need to thank me,” his smile turned sickly-sweet, the moustaches curling around his grin, “there is something I need from you, however.”

“Of course! Anything you ask of me, my lord,” Tanlor implored.

“Prince Daegan needs to be taken away from the palace—and the city—tonight. You will be his bodyguard and his guide.”

“Escort mission,” Tanlor nodded, “no problem—Where will I be taking him, sir?” Tanlor was still giddy with the thought of marrying Danielle.

The grin was gone from Edmund’s face, his tone serious, “As far from here as you can get him,” he instructed, “but still within our borders. His own men tried to kill him. I’m not sure what scheme is at play here and I’m sure you can understand why I want to keep foreign Princes alive on our soil at all costs. I will soon release a statement that the Prince has been murdered by his own guard and we wait for the reproach. Should this be some ploy to lay blame upon us, we produce the Prince and expose the orchestrators of this mess. It is vital for this plan, Tanlor, that you keep the Prince hidden—and most importantly—safe.”

“A wise plan, sir, but why me?”

“Because you’re a good bodyguard Tanlor; a strong fighter and runewielder. Do you recall the evening I learned that you were Taran the Hunter’s son?” Tanlor winced. Of course he remembered. The Archduke, like so many before him, had insisted on Tanlor reciting the story with all the bells and lies that came with it.

“You said your father used to take you and your brother to the woods where he was born, if I recall correctly?” Edmund probed.

“Yes, my lord. He did.”

“Perfect—that is where I want you to take Prince Daegan. The forests beyond the Nortara Sheet. You know the hidden trails, how to avoid the dangers beyond civilisation.”

“Of course, my lord,” he said with a great deal more confidence than he felt. It had been nearly a decade since he had been up past the Nortara Sheet, but Tanlor would trek to the Black Sands barefoot if it meant he could get his hands on that letter.

“Most importantly of all, Tanlor,” Edmund confided, “I trust you. Once this situation has been put to bed, I will send this letter to Garret Harfallow.” Tanlor was wise enough to know that he was using the letter to Harfallow as the security to that trust. “You will not regret this decision, my lord,” he vowed, earnestly.

“See to it that I do not,” Edmund accepted, with a slight edge of warning in his tone.

The Archduke pulled out an iron strongbox with silver inlay from his desk. It was clearly stoneshaped, traditional ironcasting wouldn’t have been able to weave in the silver flowing patterns on the box. Edmund brushed his hand over it lightly and the lid flipped open slowly on its own. “I’m giving you ten gold marks. The prince should have money of his own but if it comes to it use this to fund the excursion. This—” he held up a small green stone that had the appearance of jade, “is a signal stone, I’m sure you’ve heard of them. I have the companion stone here. Light will appear within both stones if you press on it with your edir. Do not do this with yours. I will activate the signal stone when I want you to return Rubastre, understood?”

“Understood, sir,” he affirmed, taking the gold and the stone.

The gold was more than he would make in a year and he didn’t doubt that the value of the signal stone was more than he had ever made in his life both working in the Archduke’s employ and from his early career taking contracts. From what he understood, signal stones were a specialised form of bondstone, a rare runestone as it was, let alone modified to be used as a signal stone.

“Show this,” Edmund continued and offered a piece of paper, “to horsemaster Klyne and he will provide you with two horses. Do not wait for dawn, I want Prince Daegan out of this city tonight.” He handed Tanlor the small unsealed writ for the horses.

Tanlor rose to leave. “I will not disappoint you, sir”

The Archduke began to pack away the iron and silver box, “also, Tanlor,” he added, “I must urge you to be discreet,” he nodded towards Tanlor’s grey tabard with the Archduke’s own crest—the Artic Bear—emblazoned on it, “for this mission, you are to be under the guise of simple bodyguard, the Prince’s identity must remain hidden.”

Tanlor nodded with determination and left.