"The coward only threatens when he is safe." - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

My life lulls into a comfortable routine for a few days. I wake up before sunrise, join Prince Eoghan for training, rush back to the castle to freshen up, hurry to the hospital and then join dinner in the main hall. At the end of the week, I am exhausted, and luckily I'm spared overtime work as the Darkelanders seem to pause their assault.

I am quite surprised when I arrive in time for dinner one night and notice that both lord Caith and prince Eoghan are absent. My brothers do not seem surprised by this and ignore me whenever I try to fish for information.

The next morning my curiosity grows even more when I arrive at the Second Order's practice field and do not find either Lord Caith or Prince Eoghan. I make my way to Walter's tent, but there is no answer, and after a while, I feel retarded for speaking to the tent.

I return to the castle and decide to find my nephew before I'll join Ria in my hall. It is my turn to host the cackle today.

It takes me a few minutes to navigate the servants' quarters before I arrive at Aelfraed's room. He doesn't answer after a few knocks on the door. An errand boy informs me that Aelfraed only ever is in one of three places: his room, his guard post, or the kitchen. Having no idea where he might be posted at the moment, I try my luck and make it to the kitchen.

The kitchen is a bustle of pots and knives and vegetables. At first, nobody notices me, but an old lady chopping carrots points me toward Aelfraed after I caught her attention when ramming against her wooden table causing her to narrowly miss adding the tip of her finger to the menu.

I study Aelfraed for a moment before approaching him. He is seated on a wooden table in the corner of the kitchen, picking at a bread roll without appetite. His head is hanging low, and he looks defeated – something my bubbly nephew has probably never experienced before. His shoulders are slumped. He looks up when he hears me approaching and I am shocked to see the circles under his eyes.

In a moment he jumps down from the table and stands straight, but the picture of a moment ago is etched into my being.

"Aebbé! What a wonderful surprise! I haven't seen you in years!"

I smile half-heartedly: "Now you are lying - that was the previous time. I saw you days ago."

"You sent me half an apple saying it looks like my face! I have never been insulted like that! Not even that day my father chose to rather give my prize to that brat of a butcher's boy, publicly declaring that I cheated!"

"When did you start spinning the truth so much? Nothing could ever come close to your hurt that day," I say with a feigned frown.

Years before my father decided to host a wrestling competition for the boys in Raven's Peak. The tournament lasted days, and one by one the boys were defeated, until scrawny Aelfread and a block of meat twice his size remained. The other boy kept cheating and almost beat Aelfread when he tossed some sand into his eyes. With great skill, Aelfraed managed to turn the situation to his favour and against all odds he managed to get and keep the other boy in a winning grip. The crowd cheered as Aelfraed was their favourite since the beginning. When the time to announce the winners came, my brother – Aelfraed's father – declared that Aelfraed only won because he threw sand into the other boy's eyes. A hush fell on the crowd as he handed the winning prize to the other boy. Afterwards, Aelfraed and I cried in his small room in the servants' quarters, swearing we would never be as unjust as Friduric.

"This court has turned me into someone spinning the truth for his own gain. You don't get to climb the ladder of success if you don't," Aelfraed says with a dark look.

"You are not speaking only of yourself?"

"No, there are things happening outside in Raven's Peak that can only be related to someone here on the inside trying to make a grab for power," he says with an uncharacteristic scowl.

"What do you mean?"

"You remember I told you that Adam died?"

I nod.

"I managed to contact the dimwit Dudda. I told him to call on me should he ever need help. I received a distressed message from him the day before yesterday. When I went to his house the same night, the whole street was standing outside their door gossiping. They were saying that the young boy was found drowned in the well nearby and that his mother has disappeared without a trace. They said that it finally became too much for her – taking care of him and being shunned by the king that she decided to kill him and go off with a lover."

"Perhaps she fled out of grief when her son accidentally died," I say knowing that the coincidence of two dead royal bastards in one lifetime is too great to not be sinister. I also remember Aelfraed mentioning once that Dudda's mother loved him greatly and had sacrificed much to keep him.

"Aebbé, I think someone is eliminating all the potential Ardam heirs."

My eyes widen: "That is a serious accusation."

"Do you think that I don't know that?"

I don't answer him, taking a moment to consider what Aelfraed is implying.

"Aelfraed, if that is true then you need to be careful."

"We need answers. I can't allow any threat to our family."

"Do you think you should share your suspicions with Friduric?"

"No, I don't want to approach the king without proof."

"That is wise, but perhaps Ferdaid would be able to aid you in getting that proof. I know that eliminating a threat to Vaubadon would be to utmost importance to him."

Aelfraed nods: "I'll beg an audience with uncle."

"Aelfraed, you have to be vigilant. If it is true, then you are in greater danger than them all. You are the eldest son of the eldest son – and you have a claim of legitimacy."

Aelfraed acknowledges the truth of my words by closing his eyes, and slowly taking a breath and letting it go.

He embraces me in a hug: "Aebbé, you are in as much danger as I am."

We stay like that for a moment before he excuses himself to resume his duties and I join Ria to assist with the last preparations for the hosting.

*****************

I sit quietly on my window seat, trying to focus on my book, but the incessant chatter of the ladies hinders me. I scowl, and almost ask all of them to keep quiet. I sigh: I can't do that. It is my turn to host them.

Ria planned the whole day. She organised the menu. She did everything by the book. I can't make all her careful planning and the execution thereof to nought by overstepping the fragile boundaries of etiquette. The day would have been bearable had Ema come, but she made her excuse without offering a reason.

I really just wish this day could end.

As if in answer, the door is thrown open revealing Ludel Strongwind looking shaken – as if he was put down here by a whirlwind.

The ladies gasp: his armour is covered with blood and his hands are drenched in fresh blood.

"You are needed at the tent for the injured," he addresses me with a frantic look in his eyes.

"Can I please have a moment to redress?"

"There is no time. I have been instructed to return with you immediately."

Something serious is going on. Someone very important has been injured. My heart skips a beat. I sincerely hope it is not Lord Caith or prince Eoghan.

"Please excuse me, my ladies."

I turn to Claira: "My queen, you are welcome to remain in my quarters. My maid, Ria, has planned a feast for lunch."

I turn my back on them and follow Strongwind who is trying very hard not to run.

"Walk faster, Ardam Princess. Time is of the essence," he hisses.

"What happened?"

"You will be informed when we arrive."

I follow him through the castle and the city, surprised when we take an unexpected turn: "I thought we were going to the tent for the injured?"

"Obviously we are not going there."

The Second Order's camp is eerily quiet as we make our way through it to one of the five larger tents somewhere in the middle. A deathly stillness greets me as I enter.

Lord Caith is standing in the corner of the tent. He is paler than marble. Everyone in the tent is pale – they look like a collection of corpses. I don't know the names of all the elves present, but something tells me that they are the ones in top command – the royalty and nobility – those shaping the history of the elves.

Prince Eoghan kneels at a bed. He stands up when he sees me. His eyes are in turmoil.

"This is Reynyn Floodfinder. He is injured. You have to do anything possible to save his life," Prince Eoghan says to me.

"Why do you not ask Master Elan?"

"Because we can't find him, and time is of the essence."

"What happened?" I ask as I kneel at the bed. I look at the elf in front of me. His skin is grey. I take his pulse. It is very weak and irregular. I lift the blanket off his chest. He doesn't have any visible external injuries, except for a few small gashes.

They are not answering me.

"What happened?"

"Just save him, human," Ludel Strongwind growls.

I stand up: "Elf, I need to know exactly what happened - so I can attempt to save him."

I don't add that his chances are looking grim. I think they all know that.

"You are rude and disrespectful, human."

"Ludel! Mind your manners! The princess is the only one who can possibly help your friend," Lord Caith speaks for the first time.

"You forbade us to speak to anyone about what happened."

"And my order is still valid, but we have called upon the princess for her help, and if she deems it necessary to know what lead to this, then she needs to know."

Prince Eoghan kneels again at the bed and takes one of the grey lifeless hands in his: "Caith, Reynyn, Ludel and I, with a few others, had a mission to complete. The mission was quite simple, but it was complicated when we ran into a horde of Darkelanders. They shouldn't have been there, but they were waiting for us. They knew that we were coming. The others of our company were slain. Reynyn wasn't even injured, but at the last moment, during our retreat, a Darkelander came at me. Reynyn shoved me out of the way. He killed the Darkelander without trouble. He was fine on the journey back, but the moment we arrived he collapsed. We have no idea what happened."

I inspect the injured elf's body. I have no idea what is wrong with him. I have never seen anything like this before.

"She is useless!" Ludel cries out.

"Strongwind, step out."

"I will not," he says defiantly to Lord Caith.

"Strongwind, I am your commander and I tell you to step out."

"You are a human! I will not be ordered about by a human."

Eoghan places his hand on his friend's elbow: "Accompany me, my friend."

Ludel seems reluctant, but he cannot refuse.

I breathe a sigh of relief when everyone except Lord Caith leaves.

"Excuse Strongwind's rudeness."

"He is worried about his friend."

I return my focus to Reynyn Floodfinder. Something caused this. I have no idea what is wrong with him yet, but maybe the cause would tell me something of the matter.

I see what I am looking for: I pry the wound open.

"Lord Caith, I think I found something."

He comes to stand opposite me.

"Do you see this wound? It looks like a normal knife wound, but on close inspection, you can see that there is another wound beneath it."

He frowns.

"I need a knife."

He hands me his dagger.

"This dagger isn't clean enough."

He smiles: "You were taught well."

He takes the dagger and pours some alcohol from a jug I did not notice before onto the blade.

"This is what I have currently. There is not time enough for the correct procedure."

"I know."

I take the dagger from him and cut deeper into the wound. I stick my hands into the wound. My fingers feel around. Just when I think of giving up, the tips of my fingers brush against something. I push my hand in even deeper. I pinch the tiny object between my fore-finger and thumb.

"Hold your palm out."

I withdraw my hand and drop the object into his palm. It is covered with blood, but where my fingers touched it, its golden surface shines through.

"It's a pendant or something. I can't make it out."

He brings his palm to his eyes. He cleans it with his thumb. His eyes widen in recognition. The object suddenly catches fire and Lord Caith drops it on the floor. It disappears in a whisper of smoke leaving nothing to prove its existence.

"Where did it go?"

Lord Caith looks deeply troubled: "Princess Aebbé, I need to go talk to someone who could shed some light on the matter. Can I beg you to remain silent and not to breathe a word of what you found to anyone?"

I hesitate.

"Princess, no one should have known about my company's mission, but somehow the Darkelanders knew."

I hear what Caith is saying without words, and Aelfraed's suspicions seem even truer.

"You are in my debt. If you tell anyone about today, I will be forced to tell your brothers about your training with prince Eoghan."

"Caith, you have my trust. There is no need to think that I would betray it," I say in immediate retaliation.

Caith looks at me and gives a sigh: "Yes, I have your trust. I apologise for implying that it was not so."

I am momentarily speechless by this unexpected immediate apology.

"What about your friend?"

"I have no idea what is wrong with him. You are the healer."

He is lying to me. Caith knows what is wrong, but he is not telling me. Contrary to his words a moment ago he does not trust me.

"My family will wonder where I am."

"We have already sent an apology and explanation to your king."

I kneel and hope that there is something I could do to save Reynyn Floodfinder's life.