Prince Bardulla Daum took a sip from his steaming drink and looked over the gardens in the twilight. It was the evening of Mocday and the beginning of another week. Nobles with their retinues were making their way back to their homes. Their far-off laughter echoed off the stone palace tower behind him.

Crystal lamps dotted the paths, and their light sparkled off the noblemen’s garments. Some spaces were left in darkness though. One such area was where Bardulla was standing. In fact, most of the gardens surrounding the Tower of Daum were dark.

He could still remember the days when the centuries-old trees were lit by lamps from beneath. The Gardens of Daum had horticultural merit then. They were beautiful to behold in both the day and the night. But now, though they still retained their beauty in the day, one could only walk beneath their limbs in darkness at night, when the old trees took on sinister forms.

Bardulla took another sip. He liked the darkness and how it surrounded him. He was in a spot on the hill leading up to his palace tower. Here he could look out over the brightly lit King’s Gardens and no one was the wiser.

A critter stirred in the underbrush, and Bardulla’s head whipped around at the noise. He stood still, and it moved again. But it was just a mouse.

Bardulla let out a breath and nursed his drink. An owl hooted above and flew over the moon. He let his gaze hover for a moment, then followed the lines of the steep mountains surrounding the valley. A cloud was spilling over the top of one of them like a waterfall.

“Prince.”

Bardulla jerked away from the voice and spilled some of the drink on his sleeve.

“Black crowns! Harbiya, it creeps me out how you sneak up on me all the time. You need to stop. Really! Especially when it’s dark out.” He set his drink down on a mossy stone wall next to him and brushed himself off.

“Eh, heh, heh! Honestly, I don’t do it on purpose.” A man stepped out of the deep shadow of a tree into moonlight. His clothing glittered with inset gems. “It’s probably from all my days as a pauper on the street, y’know?”

“That’s you know. If you’re going to be a lord, you need to act and speak like one. I wouldn’t have put that at the end of my sentence in the first place.”

“Eh, heh, heh! I suppose.” He scratched the back of his head. “I likely won’t be a lord much longer. Kacium and Fehued want to put Telun in my place. They’re still having trouble with Ellin, though.”

Bardulla glanced at what was left in his cup and drank. “Mm-hmm.”

Harbiya sniffed. “Is that… What is that?”

“Fatif with a touch of red wine.”

“Oh, that bitter and sour drink.”

“With a touch of sweetness and its combination of aromatic seasonings, this drink is made for nights like this. There is still the warmth of summer in the air, but the breeze carries the smell and chill of winter from the mountains.”

“Yeah, uh…I’ll just stick with my raloni smilers.”

The prince tsked. “Such a commoner’s drink.”

“Yet, even the king’s storerooms don’t have anything like it.”

“You’re right. They have drinks of far better quality.”

Harbiya shook his head. “So, why am I here, again?”

Bardulla coughed. “What? Pardon, I was told you had something to tell me.”

“Yes, but do you have something to offer me in return?” Harbiya shrugged. “I came to tell you I’d like to negotiate a deal.”

Bardulla took another sip and glared at Harbiya over the rim. He set it down on the wall.

“I don’t have anything to offer a cretin like you. Except this. I promise I won’t join in with Kacium and Fehued to remove your title and send you to prison where you belong.” He raised an eyebrow. “If what you’re offering is good enough, that is.”

Harbiya was silent.

“I generally don’t engage in the affairs of the lords,” Bardullah continued, “but I could make an exception.”

The two eyed each other. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the trees.

“My father was well-loved by both the nobles and his own people,” Harbiya said carefully. “It was in his will that I should inherit his estate. It would be against his dying wishes to remove my title.”

Bardullah nodded. “Yes, one addle-brained wish of an old and confused man. And now that man is dead. To remove you from your title would fulfill the wish of many living men with sound minds.”

Harbiya’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. After a moment’s thought, he spoke. “Heh, I assure you what I have to offer is worth more than that.”

Bardullah was about to speak, then stopped.

A group of nobles walked by at the foot of the hill where the trees ended. Their talk and laughter could be heard clearly.

“Did you see the way Kacium’s son danced tonight?” A woman’s voice. “I could hardly help laughing!”

“Honestly,” said a man, “he needs to take his lessons more seriously. Guard, hold your light up a little higher. It’s dreadfully dark here by the Daum’s estates.”

The woman scoffed. “What is wrong with that family, anyway? Dying without a son or daughter—truly a waste! They were just lucky his sister is a high priestess to the king.”

“Shhh,” said the man, “what if you were heard? You’d get off easy if all he did was enslave your favorite servants. You are talking about a son of the king!”

The woman protested, but she lowered her voice, and her subsequent words couldn’t be made out.

Bardullah watched the group through the trees.

Harbiya also looked to them. “I think that was Beisha and his wife.”

“Uh huh” was all Bardullah said. He appeared lost in thought.

Harbiya waited patiently. He watched the crystal lamps of the partygoers float through the gardens. Some bobbed along slowly, others zipped here and there as the guests chased each other. Suddenly, Harbiya spoke.

“A way to find the King’s Desire.”

“What’s that?” Bardullah turned.

“That’s what I’m offering.”

The prince looked hard at Harbiya’s face, trying to detect any indication of joking. The harsh shadows the moon cast on his features made it hard to read him.

A patch of flowers nearby had closed up with the night. As the moon moved across the sky, the flowers bloomed again in its faint light. During the day they were every kind of color, but at night their inner bulb bloomed bone white. Night Blades was their name.

But one of them had bloomed red, and Bardulla noticed it. A rarity. He reached for it.

“Sire, I wouldn’t play that game if I was you.”

He picked the flower, nevertheless. “I don’t believe in such superstitions. Even if most commoners do.”

He plucked one of the slim blood red petals. “I’m dead.” He plucked another one. “Dead I’m not.”

Harbiya fidgeted. “It ain’t right.”

“Do you know how long I’ve been searching for that?”

“The flower?”

“You know what I mean.”

Harbiya opened his mouth.

“My fiancée won’t even hold my hand anymore.”

Harbiya closed his mouth and silently sighed.

“I’ve been working in those cursed mines of the king’s—a prince, no less! I have calluses! The other princes too! I’ve gone into that…that…” Bardulla shuddered “that black hell.”

Harbiya glanced at the movement of the moon and nodded.

“His only son by the queen dies, and what does he do? He wages war against Ara-Era in his grief. We push them to their doorstep! We could have taken their capital!” He plucked at the flower in agitation.

Harbiya didn’t mention that Bardulla had only been a little babe when that war started and only a small child when it ended. He sniffed in disdain and instantly regretted it. The bitter smell of Bardulla’s fatif mixed with that of the moss and wet stone around them. He watched and counted the petals that Bardulla picked.

Dead. Dead he’s not. Dead. Dead he’s not. Dead.

Bardulla continued. “What does he do? He withdraws as they simper for peace. We didn’t even take carts of treasure back with us as payment! We got nothing! He gets back and nothing happens. He just sits on his great throne and ignores his children. We’re his children! Just because our mothers are concubines doesn’t make us any less!” He waved the flower in Harbiya’s face. “Then what happens? When all of us princes are practically begging him to announce a new favored son? He declares that if we are to find favor with him, we’re to go and find a stone like the one on his crown in the very place that became his son’s tomb!”

He paced and motioned with his arms. “So what do we do? We work like common laborers and get nothing for it. Absolutely nothing! Lowas went crazy because of it. Apertan died—though I can’t say I miss him—and what do we get? Nothing! He just sits impatiently waiting! I saw it for what it was. A hoax! That’s why I stopped. The others are fools to keep looking for such a stone.”

“So, what are you going to do?” Harbiya cut in. “Keep complaining?”

Bardulla looked sharply at him. Muffled voices reached them from the gardens. Two figures meandered their way through the paths a little ways off.

Dead he’s not. Dead.

“Eh, heh, heh! Forgive my rudeness, Prince. It’s just that I have something to help your position. If you won’t accept my aid, I’ll go to another prince who will.”

“Hmph. What do you want for offering your aid? Besides not losing your filthy title?”

The cold moonlight glinted in Harbiya’s eyes. “I’d like the hand of your sister in marriage and, should you come into the position of king, a place by your side.”

Bardulla stared at Harbiya incredulously, then, realizing that Harbiya was being serious, he picked his drink up and took a swig of it. He cleared his throat.

“Harbiya, I know I’m the head of my family now, but…your request is…”

“Too much? Too much for the Daum family’s line a chance to become the royal one? Hmph, you value your family very highly. I guess choosing you wasn’t right after all.” He turned to go. “I’m sorry to—”

“Wait!”

Harbiya stopped.

Bardulla’s face betrayed his conflicting emotions. “I just… I’ll have to speak with my elders. Using family as political bartering chips is…touchy business. A person has a tendency to make one powerful ally and a crowd of enemies no matter which way you go about it.”

Dead he’s not. Dead. Dead he’s not.

Harbiya’s smile glowed in the moonlight.

A flash of annoyance crossed the prince’s face before he concealed it. He had recovered control after the initial surprise. His expression was calm, disinterested, and haughty.

“So, what kind of enlightening information do you have to reveal what the king’s true desire is? He’s been mooning about like a love-sick child for the past ten years. The queen knows less than anyone else…” He raised an eyebrow.

Harbiya tapped the side of his nose. “Those who stop looking will never find what is lost. A platoon of royal guardsmen has been training in secret for years now. Do you know what for? Convoy protection. The captain reports directly to the king.”

“Oh?” Bardulla plucked at the flower. Dead. Dead I’m not. “So the king is paranoid. What of it?”

Harbiya shook his head. “It could be that, true, but I have a feeling it is something else. Something was gained from his talks with the Ara-Erans. He isn’t the kind of man to back off before he gets what he wants.”

The plucking paused. “Then, why isn’t he satisfied? Why does he have the princes, of all people, working in mines?”

Harbiya shrugged. “To make fools out of the lot of you?” He cleared his throat. “My pardons, Prince. I think it is because he has hidden whatever he gained somewhere. Remember…oh, that’s right, you were just a babe then. There was…” he waved his hand abstractly “…political unrest after the king returned from the war. I’m sure he wanted to see who he could trust before bringing out his prize.”

Bardulla shook his head. “It still doesn’t warrant me giving my sister to a street cretin like you who swindled the title of lord from a man too kind for his own good.”

Harbiya smirked and shrugged. “The platoon is making ready to leave.” He searched the other’s face. “It would be interesting to see where it goes.”

Bardulla smiled. “So, if this turns out, you get to marry into a royal bloodline and improve your station. What’s in it for me?” Dead. Dead I’m not. Dead.

“You get the King’s Desire, and, well, your sad state of finances might receive a healthy sum from my coffers as well.” Harbiya raised an eyebrow. “The king doesn’t have a direct son or daughter. Of all the sons, you are chief among them. I’m surprised the Daums allowed you to return to the family, especially as the head. Your moth—”

“Don’t speak of her.”

Harbiya shrugged again and nodded. “Guess they didn’t have a choice.”

Bardulla stopped picking the petals and tapped his fingers on the stone wall in thought.

“I have to go to Edge on business this week. Will the platoon leave before then?”

“No. They’re only in the beginning stages of preparation. Will it be your first viewing?”

Bardulla rolled his eyes. “I’ve looked over that dusty cliff too many times. It’s my coming-of-age ceremony. My grandfather worships his traditions nearly as much as he does the king. More importantly, I have to meet with the governor there.”

“Ah, I see. Night’s Eye.” Harbiya looked at Bardulla. “So, do we have an agreement?”

Bardulla squinted at Harbiya and thought for a few moments. “Harbiya, how do we know the King’s Desire is a thing that must be protected? He could simply be—” He looked around himself, as if searching the shadows would reveal an eavesdropper. He lowered his voice, “He could simply be playing at political games.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Bardulla, to accuse the king of such a thing. It just isn’t done.”

The prince scowled. “Neither is making prince’s work like laborers.”

The two were silent for a moment. A frog croaked somewhere near a pond. Bugs glowed as they flew. They slowly lost their light and disappeared, only to show up again as their light rekindled.

“Hmm,” Harbiya mumbled, “he could legitimately be looking for another stone like the one on his crown.”

“What?”

Harbiya waved the question away. “Never mind. There are only two like them and the prince has the other.”

“Oh. Good luck finding the prince. You’ll just as soon find whatever killed him too.” Bardulla downed the rest of his drink. “Whether it be demons, monsters, or the incarnation of evil itself,” he muttered.

He savored the last drops, then looked into his empty cup. There were only a couple more glasses of the beverage left in his family’s storerooms. The others had been sold.

“If this thing turns out to be the King’s Desire…then, you have a deal. I feel if we find out what this thing is, we’ll find the way to win ourselves the crown.”

Harbiya’s teeth glowed in the moonlight. “Then, it’s a deal.” He turned and, without another word, walked away.

Bardulla’s eyes bored into his back as he was lost to the umbrage of the ancient forest. He waited a couple of minutes, then held his hand up. Immediately, the form of a man clad in dark clothing stepped from the shadows and bowed.

“Keep a watch on him,” Bardulla said. “He’ll double-cross me the moment I’m most vulnerable and has gained what he needs.”

The man bowed low and stole quietly back into the forest.

Bardulla finished plucking at the flower.

***

The man in murk traversed the forest silently, no more than a glimpse of a shadow, like the flight of a black owl.

The few gaps of light that could be seen through the trunks blinked with Harbiya’s passing. The man caught up with him and slowed to a creep. Harbiya stopped in the shadow of a tree.

“Halah.”

The dark form spoke. “Yes?”

“Tell me, what petal did Bardulla end on?”

“Dead.”

There was silence in the gloom. An owl silently flew by them, unknowing of their presence.

“And they wonder why I believe in superstitions.”