The Azure Rider Ch. 06

"Is that the Sacred Hand's plan, then?" Agatha had asked faintly, trying to wrap her mind around the devious ploy that Georgina had laid out. "Put me on the throne so I can rule for eternity?"

Georgina, instead of answering her question, had pulled out the hairpin from the knot on top of Agatha's head and had whispered silkily, "I should keep this in the meantime, Princess. We don't want you to... hurt anyone accidentally."

Agatha was introduced to the members of the Dragon Council shortly afterwards. It was a tense, short, meeting, in which the Imperial Riders made it clear that they considered her as a lesser Rider because she would never ride Elpis. Petronella Batholomew, the Rider of Ligeviette, Elpis's mother, seemed to dislike her in particular. When Agatha asked Sira about it, she laughed and informed her that Imperial Dragons have an incubation period of ten years, which meant that Ice's little tryst with Ligeviette had left Petronella grounded for a decade.

Agatha's relationship with Fredenand seemed to smooth out easily once Agatha realized that Fredenand's cruelty and vanity stemmed from a deep seated insecurity, an incapacitating lack of self worth and a desperate need to please his father. Agatha simpered and fawned over him with reasonable, respectful restraint in private and praised his many capabilities in front of his family, (Princess Sira frowned at her the first day she attempted this, then commended her in private. Agatha changed the subject and did not confess to ingratiation.) and within a few days, Fredenand started to spend the night in her bed. Soon, there were days when Agatha would wake up with his arms around her. Agatha was not foolish enough to lower her guards to a capricious man's affections, which were secured in the first place by stoking his ego, and she continued to play her part faithfully for the next month.

Her guards stopped accompanying her to the top of the southeastern tower once they were reasonably convinced that Agatha had no intention of leaping to her death like her predecessor. Instead, they waited at the foot of the stairs, allowing Agatha a modicum of privacy with her dragon. Agatha seized this opportunity to use every Emancipation Spell in her repertoire on Elpis's chains, each attempt as futile as the one before it. When her guards retrieved her from the top of the tower an hour later, she was asleep from general fatigue and hunger. They carried her back to her bedchamber, where she woke up to find Georgina waiting expectantly by her bedside with a bowl of thick, creamy stew and a hunk of rye bread. Agatha stared at her suspiciously, a strange discomfort seeping into her ribs, but Georgina did not offer any explanation for the food and Agatha was not brave enough to ask.

***

In the meantime, Sir Blaxton returned from Remadra to Rubenstraad to find an apoplectic Henry Baldric raging against Orion for his sudden desertion of his post of the General and his staunch refusal to carry out his Council responsibilities. Clearly, Sir Alexander had spread the word of Orion's personal interest with the Thistle Princess as far and wide as possible.

"Where on earth is Orion?" Sir Blaxton asked.

"No one knows where he is. I sent men to his tower multiple times, but his retainer keeps sending them away, saying that he is not there or that he does not wish to meet anyone. His Dragon is still at the top of the tower, so at least he is still in Rubenstraad this time. But mark my words, he will disappear like the last time soon enough. I will never understand this man." Henry Baldric subsided into an irritable invective, grumbling words like "lovesick" and "irresponsible."

"Let me find him," Sir Blaxton said.

He found Orion in a gambling house in Central Market that evening, having lured in ten unsuspecting players for a game of Thimble Rig. Blaxton needed only a moment to realize that the men were losing spectacularly and were increasing their bets in a desperate bid to recover their losses, and Orion, with the top half of his face hidden in shadows under the hood of his cloak, seemed equally determined to divest them of their savings. Blaxton intervened when he noticed the men rolling up their sleeves under the table and shooting each other calculative glances.

"Enough!" He ground out authoritatively and approached the table, collecting the pouches of coins from Orion's side and returning them to their owners. "Leave," he barked at the men, who scurried away as fast as their legs would carry them.

"I was just beginning to have fun," Orion said mildly, without lowering his hood. "You're back early, Blaxton."

"What's going on, Orion? Why did you resign, and why did you appoint Sir Alexander as the General without consulting Sir Henry Baldric? You knew that appointing a new General is a joint decision, and not your own!"

"Not you too," Orion said wearily, and Blaxton caught a whiff of mead in his breath. He waited for his erstwhile mentor to explain himself.

"Look, I am not fit to lead them anymore. I did something, rather, I did not do something quickly enough and that resulted in the deaths of thousands of our men. Sir Alexander, despite our differences, is quite capable of leading the men. He returned the day before yesterday."

"And he had quite a few interesting things to say about you, it seems," Blaxton said icily.

Orion sighed and rose from his seat, leaving a few coins on the table. "Let's talk outside," he said.

Once the two men were outside, Orion lowered his hood and asked, "how are things in Remadra?"

"It went well, the Forgers' weapons were extremely useful. We secured victory with next to no casualties. Speaking of Forgers, King Thozomir Copperbuckle has sent a missive, stating that he is grateful to the Kingdom of Lohenstraad for sending aid during a difficult time. He would like to extend his complete military support towards us in case we ever go to war again with Vandan. Given that you already secured the Treaty, it would be unnecessary, but this is still a good thing. Now, you would know that already if you had attended the Council meetings instead of slinking around here, wallowing in self pity like a green lover."

Orion did not respond to this.

"You are not the only one who cared for Miss Hartelle, Orion," Sir Blaxton said. "Lyla would not stop crying ever since she learnt about what happened. Are you going to leave us again?"

"No," Orion said.

"So you will just confine yourself in your tower and be useless to us? We need to transport the surplus grains from the Disputed Corridor before the snow is upon us, and we need you to resume your post. I know you think that you let your men down by waiting for some time before handing Miss Hartelle over, but everyone understands why you did it. A man I once respected told me that political strategizing is about choosing the lesser evil and learning to live with yourself when you can't."

"Once respected?" Orion asked.

"With how you are behaving right now, I am beginning to lose that for you."

Orion stopped in the middle of the road and turned towards Blaxton, who was startled to see that his face looked pale and hollowed. "I know what Sir Alexander is saying, and there may be a grain of truth to his words. I am becoming too old, unfit to lead the men. I will attend the Council meetings eventually, but I need some time before that. I shall stay in Rubenstraad, but I simply cannot return to the court affairs at this moment. Call me a coward if you will, Blaxton, but holding oneself accountable for the lives of so many men can get ... tiring. I never wished to be the General of the army, there was simply no one else left to assume that position when Elrond died. But that is not the case now, and one such plausible candidate stands before me. You have come a long way, Blaxton. I am proud of you."

"I did learn from the best," Sir Blaxton returned cooly.

Once Sir Blaxton had left, Orion pulled his hood back over his eyes, collected his stallion from the nearby stable and rode to the Academy of Magical Sciences. He awoke the dozing guard near the front gate of the Academy and said, "I am looking for Siegel Lancelot. Could you please call him?"

***

Agatha's mark completed itself by the end of another week, and she spent a while examining her back in the ornate oval mirror that stood in her bedchamber. Her mark was a rich purple on most days, but occasionally, it turned a pale lilac. Agatha was quick to notice that her mark turned lighter whenever Elpis was happy, which, admittedly, was not very often. Georgina walked in on her when she was examining her back and smiled deeply, commenting that it was very beautiful. Agatha was surprised at this sudden burst of warmth from her handmaid, and she regarded her with suspicion. Georgina immediately followed her approbation with a dignified reproval about the Princess's posture, and Agatha's misgivings evaporated.

When Fredenand came to visit her that night, he seemed to be in a dark mood. He had stopped asking to be orally pleased a while ago, but this time, he mounted her from the back and finished quickly in a few sharp, brutal thrusts, then guided her lips over his cock by seizing a fistful of her hair. Agatha lapped up the remnants of his seed submissively, her disgust now checked under a blanket of self restraint, and wondered why Prince Fredenand inspired nothing but revulsion in her, even after so long.

"Your Highness seems troubled," Agatha said tentatively after Fredenand ejaculated for a second time in her throat and collapsed into the bed with a grunt. When he did not respond, Agatha reached out cautiously and ran her fingertips across his chest. She took it as an encouraging sign that he did not shove her hand out of the way.

"Someone insulted me greatly in court today," Fredenand complained petulantly. "Sira wants to seek the help of Lohenstraad Army to dispose off the vampires. One of the members of the Royal Guard had the gaul to agree with her. What does Sira know about running a country? She is a just a spoilt pampered girl who thinks she understands politics because father patronizes her. If we ask for Lohenstraad's help now, just after we parted with the entire Disputed Corridor, we will be seen as the weaker nation. Sira does not understand that and I do not expect her to, she is after all a woman. But not only did Wilden agree with her, he asked me to reconsider my decision in front of the Ministerial Council. Imagine the impertinence! A trifle Royal Guard asking me, Prince Fredenand Olbrecht to reconsider!!"

Fredenand heaved an annoyed sigh and continued, "in any case, I have ordered him to be executed for direct defiance of my orders."

Agatha stroked the Prince's hair with a look of vapid adoration plastered across her face, then said, "he should suffer greatly for defying you, my prince. Death seems too easy a punishment. If he is executed, he will simply suffer a few moments of restlessness before the guillotine lands upon him, and I do not feel that is punishment enough for confronting a seasoned politician as you."

Agatha waited cautiously to see if she had overdone the flattery. But Prince Fredenand raised himself partly on an elbow and asked, "So what do you propose that I do?"

"Get him whipped publicly," Agatha purred. "As many lashes as it takes to get him unconscious. Make his family watch, if possible. He will spend his lifetime with the knowledge that he paid the price for crossing you. While he will be thankful that you spared his life, he will grow to respect your authority. And people will say, look, the Prince is strict, but also benevolent. They will love you as well as fear you, and ballads will be written in the years to come about your unyielding sense of justice. This is your moment to shine, my prince, brighter than King Olbrecht ever did."

Prince Fredenand stared at her impassively for two heart stopping moments, during which Agatha was certain that she had carried the patronization too far. Then, a smile broke across his face and he said, "you know, no one understands me like you do, Esmeralda."

"I aim to be of service, Your Highness," Agatha returned graciously.

To her surprise, Fredenand cupped her face and kissed her, almost gently. "Call me Fredenand," he said.

The next day, Fredenand held her hand in public while the unfortunate Wilden Thomas was whipped in full view of the court. Fredenand had determined that thirty lashes seemed a justifiable amount for his transgressions and Agatha watched with an impassive countenance as the young knight dropped unconscious after twenty. Fredenand pulled Agatha into an embrace when he was being carried away and kissed the top of her head, drawing sighs and titters from the remaining courtesans. Agatha noticed that Sira was staring at her with a crease in between her eyebrows. The next morning, deep in the privacy of the forest, Sira said, "you know, I underestimated you."

There was very little warmth in her voice this time.

To Agatha's surprise, her moonblood appeared like clockwork a few days later. She had been certain that Fredenand's visits and Georgina's refusal to send her a barren potion would leave her heavy with child before the year was past. Agatha counted her blessings and started finalizing her plans for her transition to the position of Queen Dowager. Fredenand's coronation was in two weeks and his public display of affection for her would now serve to absolve her of suspicion if he were to be found dead, and Agatha, changing her mind about not using magic to kill Fredenand, started recalling whatever she knew about the little known spell Grandmeister Eustace had used on King Norman Constantine and his courtiers.

***

A few days later, Orion was seen navigating his way through a crowded marketplace in the city of Regstone, close to the Sunken Reef Harbor by the South Sea. Sunken Reef Harbor was located at the southernmost tip of Vandan, and Regstone, besides being the capital of Vandan, was also the city that accommodated the sailors, traders and travellers who passed through the port. The marketplace was a kaleidoscope of colours, with snake charmers in resplendent headdresses playing quaint music on their flutes and traders from across the South Sea hawking their exotic wares beside the streets. Orion ran a hand through his brutally short hair; he had shorn it off in an attempt to blend in with the southern crowd, but with his towering height and pale eyes, he stood out in the sunlit, cobbled streets like a sore thumb, attracting inquisitive stares from the passersby.

He came across a door with an ornate flower carved across the wood and frowned. A quick glance around the neighbourhood informed him that he was entering a brothel. He raised a hand and hammered on the door, which was opened after a heartbeat by a woman in a plain dress.

"I am looking for Vera," he said, expecting the woman to tell him that he was at the wrong place. To his surprise, she nodded and said, "follow me."

Orion followed the woman through the damp, mildewed hallways of the brothel, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with every step. The woman brought him to a dark, sunless room heavy with draperies and the cloying smell of incense. She closed the door when she left and Orion glanced around, finally finding her on a stuffed, embroidered chair, wearing a luridly patterned dress so that she almost blended with her surroundings.

"Couldn't you have found a better place?" He asked, feeling decidedly uncomfortable.

"This was the safest place I could think of," Georgina replied. "Please take a seat," she continued graciously.

Orion assumed a seat on a wooden chair, which complained loudly under his weight.

"Did she manage to open the chains?" Orion asked.

Georgina shook her head. "No, but not for lack of trying."

"I was afraid of that," Orion murmured, running a hand through his beard, scowling at the floor. "Very well, in that case we shall simply have to take the more difficult route. I should be back before the Prince's coronation. Is her mark complete?"

"Yes. It looks very beautiful."

"How is your position with her? Does she suspect you?"

"No, she does think that I am still working for the Sacred Hand, as you instructed me to impress upon her, but she has no clue that I work for you. I have been mixing the barren potion in her water, and she has successfully won over the Prince."

"How is your position with the remaining members of the Sacred Hand in the Castle? Do they suspect you?"

"Not to the best of my knowledge," Georgina shook her head. "I have been playing my part very faithfully, Azure Rider."

"So I would imagine," Orion muttered.

"But I think you should allow me to tell her of your plan," Georgina continued. "It is ... cruel to leave her under the delusion that she will be confined to the Castle for the foreseeable future. Not only that, it will inevitably spur her to take desperate actions. I believe she may be plotting to kill the Prince already. I think she hopes that Princess Sira will ascend the throne if the Prince dies."

"She can't do that," Orion said sharply. "Tell her whatever you need to to dissuade her from that, but if the Prince is murdered now, she will be suspected, and it will make a secret extraction nearly impossible."

"I am trying my best," Georgina responded. "I confiscated an ivory hairpin from her the other day."

"If you tell her what is going on, she will, probably unwillingly, end up revealing the intelligence to someone," Orion said carefully, raising his eyes to meet Georgina's. "She needs to endure that life for only two weeks now, we will unchain her Dragon on the night of the Prince's coronation."

"It is easy for you to say. She is not doing well," Georgina said sadly. "She does not eat much, she's growing thin."

Orion rubbed his temples, fraught with indecision.

***

Unfortunately, Georgina was not wrong about Agatha's wretched state of mind. Elpis's deep depression in her state of confinement was beginning to affect Agatha despite her determination to stay sanguine. Added to that was her constant fear of turning dark like so many witches before her, because she was beginning to lose count of the number of men she had killed. Over the last few weeks she had grown to realize that bravery was not in sticking a blade through whoever caused her offence, it was in the silent resilience against the slow erosion of hope, it was in allowing herself to forgive a man who did not deserve it, in allowing herself to grieve for the loss of a life long past and a love never reciprocated.

And by her definition, she did not feel very brave anymore as she sat on the ground by the pinewood dresser in her bedchamber that night, curled into a tight little ball, trying to guard against the deep chill in her bones that even the merciless southern sun could not take away anymore. Then, she heard a swishing sound in the moonless night outside her window. Agatha turned around and nearly shrieked.

Orion was standing behind her.