The Azure Rider Ch. 07

The only exception to this was naturally, the Rubenstraad delegation, who came with the most expensive gifts of all, and lingered for the longest in front of her raised dais, proclaiming repeatedly that they aimed to be of service to her and would only be a missive away should she ever need them. She may be a De Clare Princess, but Rubenstraad was, after all, her real home, they said, and entreated her to look upon them as her kin. Archibald Mannering held her hand and kissed it, going so far as to proclaim that had he been aware of the existence of such a beautiful woman in their kingdom he would not have stayed unwed for so long. This statement, whispered theatrically for the benefit of the Rubenstraad delegation drew titters from the intended audience. Agatha responded to him graciously and privately thanked her lucky stars for not catching the eye of the strapping young man in front of her, and chose not to remind him that he, in fact, had met her about seven months ago, when she had been summoned to his manor to tend to a half conscious, bruised and beaten Lyla.

A few hours later, when the guests and the hosts were sufficiently drunk and most of the serving girls had been drawn into the lap of an inebriated man somewhere in the room, Agatha raised her eyes and roved her gaze around the hall. The guards stood sentry around the exits of the hall and by the edge of the walls, keeping a sharp eye on the festivities, intent on preventing any unpleasant incident before it happened. Agatha wondered vaguely what would count as an unpleasant incident in their eyes; as far as she could see, a serving girl, stripped to her skin, was being passed from one lap to another. She grasped the edge of the table as the men impaled her on their cocks repeatedly, her eyes beginning to glaze over. She moaned dramatically, but Agatha could tell that it was fake and it was highly likely that she felt nothing at all by that point. The rest of the men laughed and egged on whoever had his turn with the girl, and no one seemed to care enough to interfere.

Agatha rose abruptly from her throne and made towards the nearest doorway, unable to take it any longer. When she was stopped at the exit by the two guards manning it, she said cuttingly, "I would like to retire to my bedchamber now. I don't think this is a place for ladies any more." They uncrossed their bars wordlessly and bade her good night after that. Agatha careened blindly through the hallways, her tears blurring her vision and arrived at the small antechamber Georgina had directed her to go to earlier that afternoon. She found Georgina waiting inside with a complete set of breeches, a shirt and riding boots. Georgina undid Agatha's layers of clothing in record time and Agatha pulled on the breeches, delighting in the renewed ability to fill her lungs with air.

Once they were done, Georgina opened the other door on the opposite wall of the antechamber. Orion stood outside, his face again shadowed by the hood of the brown cloak despite the hot and humid weather. He nodded briefly at Georgina and stretched his hand out towards Agatha.

***

Agatha barely felt anything when Orion wrapped a cloak around her shoulders and sealed a leaf-shaped clasp at the base of her neck. Her mind was far away, concentrating on Elpis, scanning the inky skyline of Regstone through her eyes. A tall, pale man with pointed ears and silver hair was chanting in an unintelligible language at Elpis's feet, holding her manacles in his palms, while another man, not as tall, but with similarly pale and delicate features watched cautiously from afar. The manacles glowed sliver-green for a few moments, then they fell open.

"Orion," Agatha said softly as he nearly dragged her through the deserted hallways, "she's free. Elpis is free."

"I know," Orion said shortly. "Faster, Agatha."

Agatha concentrated on running then, on putting one leg in front of another, her heart hammering in her chest, more from restlessness and apprehension than the exertion of running. Orion brought her out into a sheltered courtyard through an unguarded set of double doors. He did not relinquish his vice grip on her hand as he sprinted out into the courtyard, his hand stretched out in front of him. Then he skidded to an abrupt halt and Agatha ran into his back, face first.

"Ow," she gasped, rubbing her nose, which had taken the brunt of the impact. She extricated her face from the folds of his cloak and gasped again. Where there had been nothing but thin air before, Ice stood with his wings half unfurled, his black eyes staring at her with evident amusement.

"How, what..."

"Siegel," Orion responded shortly. Scooping her up in one of his arms, he climbed atop Ice, hastily drawing Agatha's legs on either side of the saddle in front of him. Ice unfurled his giant wings and took flight, the motion eliciting a very ungraceful exclamation from Agatha as she was thrown backwards against Orion's chest. Within a few heartbeats they were up amongst the low clouds that had been looming threateningly over Regstone all day. Agatha pulled the hood of her cloak above her head, faintly reflecting that the material of the cloak was finer and softer than anything she had ever known, but her mind was quickly occupied by more pressing thoughts.

Elpis was now flying across the clouds beside them, and behind him rode two Elves, one riding an Imperial Dragon, the other riding an impossibly large Azure Dragon. Ice seemed dwarfed in comparison to this new Azure Dragon. Agatha realized with a stab of disappointment that she would not be riding Elpis, not on this journey anyway.

"Who's the other one?" she turned around and enquired of Orion, nearly shouting over the wind. A ribbon of lightning split the sky in half beside them, and Agatha jumped so badly that she nearly slipped from the saddle.

"Shh, it's alright. The other one is Illimitar Jorieth," Orion responded, wrapping a steel arm around Agatha's torso and pulling her more securely against his chest. "Did anyone see you leave?"

Agatha waited for the clap of thunder to pass before answering. "Yes, two guards. I told them that I was going to my wing, as Georgina told me to."

"Good girl," Orion said, resting his chin on top of her head, his thumb drawing soothing circles over the fabric of the cloak on her forearm. Agatha allowed herself to relax against him and mingled her consciousness with Elpis's, both of them savouring the taste of freedom.

***

They landed on a patch of deserted prairieland after an hour of flying. Elpis had not flown a day since she was born and quickly tired of the long flight. Orion, Illimitar and Finthalion landed in quick succession behind Elpis once she made it clear that she was desperate for some rest. Ice disappeared from view as soon as they disembarked from him. Agatha lowered the hood of her cloak and turned nervously towards the two Elves, squinting at the one Orion had said was her father.

Finthalion was taller than Orion, with long, graceful white limbs. His silver hair cascaded down to his shoulders and his large almond eyes appeared nearly dark in the dim light of the moon. Agatha fancied that he would have her eyes, green, but flecked with blue as a sign of his bond with his dragon. Illimitar Jorieth was shorter and stockier in stature, though he was nearly as tall as Orion, and had dark, wavy hair. Though none of the men had any of the telltale signs of degeneration to give their ages away, Illimitar's movements were graced by the assured calmness that age and experience often brought. Agatha felt properly dwarfed amongst the three men and the dragons.

Finthalion strode towards her in lithe, fluid steps and knelt down before Agatha. He reached for her face with his hands and whispered, "you look just like her."

Agatha, who had heard this too often in recent times, barely nodded, avidly scrutinizing his strange porcelain skin and fine hair.

"We don't have long, onya," he said again, smoothing his palm over her hair, "but I am so very proud of you. Orion will take you somewhere safe, and I will come for you after we have dealt with King Olbrecht."

"What will you do with King Olbrecht?" Agatha asked, her voice sounding unnaturally high after his deep, musical voice.

Illimitar strode towards them. "King Olbrecht stole an ancient Elven artifact and deceived Finthalion intentionally when he went looking for it afterwards. Thievery is a crime punishable by death in Ost-in-Edhil."

"You'll kill him?" Agatha asked.

"Yes, onya, it is what happens to people who steal ancient magic," Finthalion said. "Illimitar and I shall travel to Ost-in-Edhil now and we shall return with the Elven guards soon. Andebert Olbrecht will be tried and executed in the High Court of Ost-in Edhil. You must stay with Orion until that matter is sorted, then I shall return for you and take you home. You will be trained in the Elven ways and you shall want for nothing for the rest of eternity. We do not have hunger in Ost-in-Edhil, nor do we have the senseless violence that rents your human world apart. It's a peaceful, beautiful place, teeming with the magic of nature. You will love it there."

Agatha stared back at Finthalion, neither confirming nor denying his assumption. Orion shifted slightly at her side.

***

Orion brought her to a deserted cabin in the middle of a wooded area at the northern edge of the Great Plains. He carried her in his arms over the doorstep despite her protests and laid her down on a bed.

"Get some rest," he said, drawing the blankets over her. "There's extra breeches in the closet and food on the table outside. I will be back soon."

He knelt down in front of the fireplace, which stood ready with fresh logs piled inside. He kindled a roaring fire, then glanced back at her. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he approached the side of her bed and planted a quick kiss on her forehead over the golden circlet. Then he was gone.

***

Ice took less than an hour to streak across the Great Plains to Rubenstraad. Orion could feel the searing pain in his shoulders and flight muscles through the clairvoyant bond between them by the time he landed on the top of the Azure Tower. After muttering a soft word of thanks, Orion made short work of untying the ward from Ice's leg; Siegel had done away with the apparition a few minutes before, coordinating with his arrival with an impressive punctuality.

'They are not here yet, but I can sense two Imperial Dragons drawing closer to Rubenstraad,' Ice informed him as Orion ran down the steps of his tower, skipping two at a time. 'Aaaah.... Ligviette is here,' Ice thought dreamily. Orion grimaced involuntarily. He was not looking forward to meeting Petronella. She had been a formidable woman even before Orion, or rather, Ice had given her a reason to detest him.

Orion marched into his bedchamber, shed his flying garb quickly and hung them behind all other clothes in his closet, then seized a sleeping robe from another rack and rushed into the privy chamber. He cursed silently when he saw his face in the mirror adjacent to a wash basin; he looked grimy and windswept while he should have looked languorously unkempt for the little performance that was to follow.

'Ah... they have landed in front of the Keep. It's Petronella and her husband Williamson, and Petronella looks very, very angry.'

'Keep talking,' Orion thought, splashing water on his face and wiping it clean with a towel. It was not perfect, but there was no time for a bath. He wrapped the robe around himself and cinched the silk sash around his midsection.

'Take off your shoes,' Ice reminded him. Orion kicked off his riding boots and slid into a pair of slippers. He cleaned the mingled mud and snow from the soles of the boots and stashed them inside his closet. Then he rushed out of the privy and ran his eyes around his bedchamber. Jonathan had laid out the set faithfully; half empty liquor bottles were strewn around his bedchamber, not enough to account for shoddy housekeeping, but enough to create the impression of a slowly unraveling, drunken man. Orion snatched one of the bottles from his nightstand, uncorked the top and sniffed inside.

'They are inside now... Henry Baldric is talking with them, repeatedly assuring them that you had nothing to do with the Thistle Princess's abduction. He is now describing your sorry state to the two... I can hear Sir Alexander and Sir Blaxton chiming in... and now they have decided to pay you a visit because they don't believe Henry Baldric.'

Orion raised the bottle and took a gulp, letting a little of the liquor dribble down the front of his robes. He wiped his chin on his shoulder, internally blessing the ephemerality of mortal memories. Had he pulled this little stunt amongst Elves, he would not have ever rebuilt his reputation. There was a sharp gong from the front door as someone rapped the dragon shaped door knocker on the wood. Orion stashed the ward of invisibility into one of the beaurus of his desk and waited. Soon enough, Petronella's shrill voice sliced through the sombre silence of the Azure Tower.

"Where is he? I want to see him right now!"

'Good luck,' Ice whispered in his mind as Orion shuffled towards the door of his bedchamber and stumbled down the steps, liquor bottle dangling from one hand, eyes unfocused and his countenance happily vacant.

"Who is it, Jonathan?" He slurred as he reached the foot of the stairs. Petronella and Williamson Bartholomew stood closest, while Henry Baldric, Sir Blaxton and Sir Alexander lingered by the entrance to the visitor hall. Sir Alexander was eating an apple with an expression of mingled contempt and satisfaction on his face, Henry Baldric looked scandalized and Sir Blaxton simply looked disappointed.

"Petronella!! It's so nice of you to visit!!" He smiled amiably with the happy abandon of a drunkard.

Williamson rushed upstairs past him without waiting for his permission. Orion smiled again, blinking stupidly at Petronella. "So, what brings you here today, madam?"

Petronella laughed disdainfully. "There was a time when I used to respect you, Orion. Sir Alexander was right. You seem to have lost your touch."

"I agree," Orion said amiably. "Now, what brings you here today?"

Petronella seemed to think that he did not deserve the compliment of a rational response. Sir Alexander drawled, "apparently Aga... er, Princess De Clare was abducted from her bedchamber earlier tonight. If the handmaids are to be believed it was the work of Elves. Unfortunately one of those Elves rode an Azure Dragon, so you are now suspected of masquerading as an Elf and abducting the Queen Regent of Vandan. Obviously, since you cannot stand straight and possibly cannot process this conversation, we told them that there's no chance that you were behind it. But Lady Bartholomew insisted on checking."

"Elves?" Orion asked dimly. "I thought they didn't leave the Ancient Forest! Charming chaps..." he smiled dreamily.

"Didn't you come to Regstone looking for some artifact with an Elf twenty six years ago? Mighty shy person, I remember. Refused to meet the Dragon Council." Petronella said, clearly still troubled by that perceived slight.

"Oh yes," Orion said cheerfully, "Finthalion. Nice fellow. Was smitten by Queen Estrilda I believe but who wasn't? Even King Olbrecht was infatuated by her from what I hear." He waved the hand carrying the bottle for added effect and sloshed some gin onto the carpet.

Henry Baldric looked like he dearly wished to dig a hole in the ground and disappear inside. However, Sir Blaxton, Sir Alexander and Petronella were all staring at him with cautiously controlled expressions. Orion felt a grim satisfaction as panic began to overshadow the anger on Petronella's face.

"We are in deeper trouble than we thought, then," Williamson said from the top of the staircase. He nodded wearily towards Petronella. "They weren't lying, sweetheart. She isn't here and Orion has clearly been drinking himself to damnation for a very long time now."

"I knew it!!!" Petronella whispered agitatedly. "I told you that her ears looked strange, you laughed at me then! You never listen to me Will, this is all your fault!"

"Yes of course, my love," Williamson said meekly. His love wrung her hands restlessly and said, "Elves copulating with humans is practically unheard of... but if we kept the Dragon of an Elfling captive..."

"Well, why didn't you release the Dragon once Esmeralda reached Regstone?" Orion asked, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

"The dratted chains would not open," Petronella said impatiently, then turned to Williamson and continued, "we have to return immediately and organize our..."

"Hold on..." Orion interrupted her with the outlook of a dim man trying very hard to concentrate, "Finthalion was searching for the Chains of Damnation when he went to Regstone...I believe it's an ancient Elven artifact that was traditionally used to secure only the most difficult prisoners..."

Resisting the urge to laugh at the expression of stunned horror on Petronella and Williamson's faces, Orion squinted fiercely at the ground, as though trying to remember something, then shrugged and said amicably, "well, can't remember what else he said about the Chains of Damnation... perhaps Sir Alexander is right, I am indeed growing too old."

'Careful,' Ice cautioned him. 'Do not patronize them.'

Petronella threw him one last dirty look and stormed out of the tower. Williamson followed her. Henry Baldric scampered after them, asking whether the terms of the Treaty would still be upheld since Lohenstraad clearly played no part in the Queen Regent's abduction. Sir Blaxton threw Orion an outraged glance and hurried after him. Orion heard Petronella's arrogant, disdainful tone from afar: "You may keep the Disputed Corridor. Clearly, you need it more than we do."

However, once the room was empty, Sir Alexander edged towards Orion with a carefully inscrutable face. Then, quick as lightning, he hurled the half eaten apple in his hand towards Orion's head. Orion's reflexes gave him away at this crucial juncture, he stepped aside with an alacrity that clearly proved that he was not under the influence of liquor, and the apple sailed harmlessly past his nose, hitting the wooden banister of the spiral staircase behind him. Sir Alexander advanced closer with a maniacal gleam in his eyes.

"I knew it," he whispered. "I don't know how you did it, Orion, but that little rescue has your signature all over it. Petronella or Williamson may not see it, but I have worked alongside you for far too long not to."

Orion remained silent.

"Be very careful, Orion," Sir Alexander continued, "your obsession with that witch is dangerously clouding your judgement. You should have left her alone. They may not be able to prove your involvement with her escape, but it will not stop Fredenand from declaring war against us once spring arrives."

When Orion spoke, his voice was perfectly level. "You should not waste food like that, Sir Alexander. We paid too hefty a price for that apple."

Sir Alexander nodded at him once, then turned around abruptly and left in a swish of cloak. Orion closed one of the panels of the double doors, Jonathan took care of the other.

"I must say, master," Jonathan offered him a toothless grin as he pushed the bolts back into place, "you are in the wrong line of employment."

Orion volunteered a wan smile in response. It had been a very long night.

***

Agatha awoke in the early hours of dawn to the racket of birds. For a few moments she lay immobile under the sheets, her heart hammering in her chest from an unnamed terror, then comprehension caught up with her senses and she realized that she was not in Regstone anymore. As her heart started to slow down and relief flooded through her limbs she stopped gasping like a drowning person. She rose from the bed and plodded into the privy, barely recognizing the woman that stared back at her from the cracked mirror. Her face was still caked in the shimmery powder and the cheek tint Georgina had put on her last night, and the accursed circlet still sat firmly atop her brows.