Part V: The Army Marches

  Tambryne City was as glorious as he had been told. Ulfnar’s first impression was of its familiar smell that reminded him of home. The smell of the sea and salty air. The slight hint of tar and rotting fish. The noise of the people and rumbling of carts of goods rolling by. This was as close to home as he could get.

  The only difference between Teorton and Tambryne were its colors. Everything in Teorton was either a variation on the same deep brown or the grey of stone. None of the buildings in the Docks or lower quarters bore any other colors. The upper quarters did, but most things there were either polished stone or white.

  Tambryne was a sea of colors. All the buildings were brightly painted in all manner of colors. A yellow house could stand next to a red one. A white and brown half-timbered building sat next to a green-washed shop. It was as vibrant a city as he had ever seen.

  And the colors didn’t stop at the buildings. The people dressed in all manner of colorful dress. From reds to blues to greens. Every color of the rainbow was seen on their clothes. It made Ulfnar strangely stand out in his black coat and trousers.

  The skin tones of the people were as varied as their outfits. White skinned dockworkers mingled with black skinned merchants, and every hue in-between. Some men were as black as night, and others as pale as porcelain. Still others were a moderate tone of brown, and others had reddish highlights. Ulfnar gawked at the colors, but none of the residents of the city seemed to take notice.

  The thing that made him stare the most were the creatures of legend that he’d only heard of in stories: the automatons. These humanoid creatures were magical constructs that were given life. While they weren’t as intelligent or sophisticated as actual living creatures, they were smart enough to follow orders and perform simple tasks.

  And they were the most colorful of all. They had blue, red, and even orange skin, though blue was the most common. They all had strange iridescent tattoos on their faces that followed their jawline and ran down the bridge of their noses. They all glared at him when he stared.

  Even more strange was the fact that elves and dwarves mingled with the humans and automatons without hostility. In Camulan, an elf would be killed on sight, and dwarves were non-existent. Here, while not as common as humans, they weren’t rare, either.

  The town guards were usually dark skinned, and all wore chainmail and a conical helmet. Over their armor they wore a green tabard with the sigil of the Grand Duchy of Tambryne: a black spire on a field of white. It resembled the tallest of the spires Ulfnar could see in the distance.

  They made no mention of the small wooden box that he was carrying. In its previous life, the box was meant to contain a small cigar, something that the citizens of Tambryne were fond of smoking. Ulfnar tried it but found it too harsh and difficult to manage. He much preferred smoking out of a long-stemmed pipe that kept the smoke far away from his face.

  He bought the cigar from a street vendor on his way out of Tophton and placed Tylenna’s finger and the ring inside. It would have been a tricky question to answer if the guards had asked him what was in the box, or even worse, asked to see it.

  He hoped she was alright. She had left in the night while he was still sleeping. He had woken up alone. Totally, completely alone. He panicked for a good half-hour before Lina was able to calm him down. He had been alone for two years while he was in the tower. He didn’t want to feel that alone ever again.

  ‘She’s fine, idiot. She went to get her queen, just like she told you she would.’

  Lina was right, but it still scared him to wake up alone and feel abandoned by all the people who had been right beside him for the last 3 years. They all left him. Arden, Finona, Harnfist, and Furis, without so much as a goodbye.

  He missed them terribly. Even Furis, the grumpy mage he didn’t particularly like. The man was a constant thorn in his side, and resented how close Ulfnar had gotten to Lady Tylenna. He claimed that she was being irresponsible, allowing a man who had agreed to kill her get close enough to allow it to happen. It was a valid point, but Ulfnar just thought he was being jealous.

  He held tightly onto the box as he made his way through the crowded streets. He’d entered through the northern gate, to, hopefully, throw any followers off his trail. But now, he had to make his way across the Grand Bridge to get to the palace, and with how crowded the city was, his progress was marked in inches.

  Before they left, Harnfist gave him another pair of daggers that he was able to stash up his arms, which he was grateful for. He liked that massive man. He hoped he would see him again. He doubted it. He had an unnerving feeling that he was either going to his death or would spend the rest of his life imprisoned beneath the Tambryne Palace.

  ‘You’re just being paranoid,” Lina said. ‘Besides, you could always just kill yourself. But don’t do that. I don’t want to be left behind in a Tambryne prison.’

  “Helpful as always, Lina,” he answered.

  A few of the passersby looked at him strangely as he talked to Lina. As far as they could tell, he was just talking to himself. They didn’t know he had a doll in his pocket. Who cared what they thought anyway? He was sure there were crazier people than him in this city.

  The Grand Bridge was something to behold. It was a long, wide, stone bridge that spanned the entire length of the River Tyr as it made its way to the Bay of Tambryne. It was wide enough for 3 large carts to pass abreast along its length and would have been wider still if not for the colorful wooden buildings built along its edges. They were one and two-story affairs that left little arches and gaps between them so that the people crossing it could stop and see the river as it flowed underneath the bridge.

  ‘All your troubles would be over if you jumped.’

  “Stop!” he shouted at her. She had been encouraging him to take his life less and less since he’d been rescued from the tower but started to increase now that he’d been separated from Lady Tylenna. That was the third time she’d said something like that to him just today, never mind the three days it had taken them to walk here.

  The buildings built on the bridge mostly contained shops on the first floors, and then residences above. A common enough configuration for any town—except here they were built on a bridge. He wasn’t sure if he’d be comfortable living on a bridge. What if there was an earthquake? The whole bridge could come down and throw them into the raging current below.

  “Don’t start,” he said before she made a comment on his thoughts.

  He grabbed a pastry on their way across the bridge. He was glad Tylenna had left him a bag of coins. He was broke and depended on her for everything. She’d left him a note as well, but he didn’t have the nerve to read it. He’d just stuffed it into his pocket and left. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever read it. He was afraid of what it would say. He was afraid it would be goodbye forever.

  ‘It’s not goodbye forever, idiot. She loves you too. My eyes are sewn on and even I can tell that.’

  “You’re the only woman for me, Lina,” he said.

  ‘Eww, no. I’ve seen what you did to her.’

  He finally made it to the gates of the Palace. From a distance, the Spires looked impressive, as the long, thin towers made their way up towards the heavens. From close up, they were mind-boggling in their beauty. They reached dizzying heights that already terrified him. He forced himself not to think about being up at their peaks. It reminded him too much of his imprisonment.

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  The towers and the rest of the palace appeared to be made out of a shiny black stone that he couldn’t identify. It wasn’t obsidian, there was no way such a fragile stone could hold the enormous weight of the building—unless there was magic involved, an idea that he couldn’t discount.

  “What do you want?” the gruff guard in the conical helmet asked him as he approached the gates.

  “I’m here to see Lady Larella,” he said.

  “Is that so?” his friend asked. This man had a thick scar running horizontally along his neck, as though someone had once strung him up. The scar, combined with his scowl scared Ulfnar. The long halberd he carried just made it worse.

  “Yes,” Ulfnar said with as much courage as he could muster.

  “Do you have an invitation? Is she expecting you?”

  Ulfnar shook his head. He tried to fight down the nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach and tried to keep the shaking in his knees to a minimum. If these guards knew how afraid he was, the might take that as a sign of danger and run him through.

  “No invitation.” He said, giving them a lopsided grin. “But she’ll want to see me.”

  “Why?” the first guard asked. “Who are you?”

  ‘You’ve got this Ulfnar. Be strong,’ Lina said.

  Well, here it goes.

  “My name is Prince Ulfnar of House Camul, Fourth in line to the Bear Throne of Camulan. I have a package that she is expecting.”

  “A prince?” the scarred guard scoffed. “Where’s your entourage? Where’s your carriage? Why do you come here on foot like a common beggar?”

  “Just give me the package. I’ll see that she gets it,” the other guard said.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ Lina said. ‘I don’t think he’d like what’s inside the box.’

  “Trust me,” he said. “You don’t want the package. I’m not sure Lady Larella would want you to see it either. Can you just send someone to tell her I’m here?”

  The scarred man leaned in closer. Ulfnar could smell the fish and beer he’d had for lunch. He had to fight off the urge to gag. “Your package doesn’t happen to be a blade in her belly, does it?”

  “No,” he said. “Now, please, just go tell her.”

  “What is this, Tireen?” another guard asked behind the gate. He bore a gold stripe along his shoulder. He was older and was missing part of his left arm. The two guards at the gate shuffled when he arrived. He was the one who was in charge.

  “Sir, this beggar claims to be a Camulani prince, and has a package for the Lady Larella.”

  “Does he, now?” the higher-ranking guard asked. “And why didn’t you send for me?”

  “You’re here, aren’t you?” the scarred guard said.

  The higher-ranking guard bristled at the comment but said nothing. He just gave the scarred guard an exasperated look and shook his head. Ulfnar was sure Lord Smyton wouldn’t have tolerated that kind of disrespect between a guard and their superior. Perhaps the guard’s rope-scar had something to do with it.

  “Let him in.”

  “Sir?” the guard named Tireen asked. “How do we know he is who he says he is?”

  “You heard me,” the higher-ranked guard said. “We know because I said so.”

  The guard shrugged and unlocked the gate. He and the scarred one gave Ulfnar dirty looks as he passed through. Ulfnar just smiled as best he could and ignored their desires to put their halberds in his back. He was sure they were going to be punished later. He tried to decide if he would tell Lady Larella they tried to take Tylenna’s finger from him.

  ‘It would serve them right,’ Lina said.

  Inside, the palace held the most valuable resource in all of Tambryne City: space. It was filled with cobblestone walkways and gardens. Hedges lined the walkways on either side and sprouted beautiful flowers that were carefully being attended to by gardeners.

  In various places were pavilions and benches for the royal family and courtesans to take their ease and enjoy the gardens. A few appeared to be doing so. None of them gave him a second glance.

  Now that he was inside, he could take in the full grandeur of the palace. The building was at least four stories tall, but was so wide it appeared short, especially compared to the seven tall spires that shot out at various places along the building. They didn’t appear to be set at regular intervals as you would expect guard towers to be in a castle.

  No, these were strangely haphazard, which only added to their beauty.

  “You are lucky, Your Highness,” the guard said.

  “Why?”

  “Because Lady Larella was in the gardens and noticed you at the gates. If she hadn’t been here, Tireen and Filt might have run you through.”

  Ulfnar bristled at that idea. He had presented himself as a commoner, but did they have such a disregard for the lower classes here that the guards would be allowed to kill a petitioner? That was offensive to him, even if he was royalty.

  “Sounds like they were the lucky ones. Lady Larella would not have appreciated that, considering my gift.”

  The guard escorted him to one of the gardens that had been filled with more flowers than Ulfnar had ever seen in his life. He couldn’t identify most of them. And of the ones he could, they seemed to be a variety that he’d never seen before.

  His heart jumped into his throat when he saw Lady Larella. She looked much the same, and as voluptuously beautiful as he remembered. Only this time, she was dressed much more modestly. Instead of the nearly sheer dress she’d worn in the tower, she was wearing a green dress that was heavily embroidered with flowers. The embroidery ran all the way down to her wrists, which held a small book.

  “Lady Larella, may I present Ulfnar of House Camul,” the guard said.

  “Thank you, Sergeant Maller. You may go.”

  She closed her book and gestured for him to sit beside her. He did so, keeping as far away from her as the bench permitted. Even this close to her, he could feel the desire to make love to her. He didn’t understand why. He had never been a lecherous man before.

  ‘Tylenna wouldn’t like that.’

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Larella asked, gesturing to the gardens.

  The royal palace on Mot’s Hill in Teorton had nothing like this. Sure, there were some gardens, which included sculpted bushes and flowers, it wasn’t on this scale. There just wasn’t enough room. Because the palace occupied the very top of a hill, the top of the hill had had to be cut down to accommodate it. The reshaping of the land was an expensive undertaking, and the amount of space available was limited as a result.

  “It’s breathtaking,” Ulfnar said. He took the box from his pocket and slid it over to her. “It’s done.”

  She picked up the box and opened it, taking a quick peek inside. Her face wrinkled in revulsion as she pulled her head back from the box. She quickly closed it up and handed it back to him. He noticed that she didn’t have the same swirling tattoos on her hands and fingers that Tylenna had. He thought that was peculiar. The way she had explained it, he’d thought that the tattoos indicated nobility. Considering how important Lady Larella seemed to be to the archduke, he would have expected her to have them as well.

  “Hold onto that for now. When the archduke is free, he will want to see that.”

  He grabbed the box, and it quickly disappeared underneath his coat. He didn’t want it to be out in the open, especially here in a palace. He had no idea who was who and where their loyalties lay. Courtesans always had plots afoot, and the Spires would be no exception.

  “Sorry about Dillon,” he said.

  She shrugged, not looking at him. “He knew the risks. He belonged more to the Star Children now than me, anyway.” She turned and looked at Ulfnar. “He served his purpose.” Her eyes flicked to his coat, where he had hidden the box.

  She looked back to him, directly into his eyes. He shied back at her intense gaze, but didn’t break the eye contact. He was afraid his eyes might wander to her breasts, or…elsewhere. He gave her a lopsided grin, hoping she would stop staring at him.

  Her gaze softened. “I was saddened to hear about your father,” she said.

  What had happened to his father? The last he’d heard of his father was when he’d been locked into his bedroom after Aeolwyn had been caught in the Star Children’s compound.

  “My father?” He asked urgently. “What’s happened to him?”

  She frowned, her lips pouting out in a very sexy, sultry way. “You haven’t heard. I’m sorry, I thought you’d know. He’s passed the great veil.”

  Emotions erupted in him. Sadness, confusion, denial, and anger. His father was dead? And he hadn’t been there when it happened? He couldn’t believe it. The king had been strong and healthy the last time Ulfnar had seen him. And furious.

  “How?”

  “The reports are unclear,” she said. “He was ill for some time. Apparently taking so soon after you were brought to the tower. The illness ran its course, and ultimately took his life.” She paused, looking for any sense in his eyes. “Some believe he was poisoned.”

  “Poisoned!” That was impossible. His father only had trusted cooks in his kitchen that were watched like hawks. Food tasters were at every corner of the building, making sure that everything was safe to eat.

  “According to the reports, your brother Alfyn did it to gain the throne.”

  This just got worse and worse. He couldn’t hold back his tears any longer. He hid his face in his hands and cried like a baby. He longed for his mother’s comforting embrace, and failing that, Tylenna’s. But they were both extremely far away, so Lady Larella’s soft bosom had to do.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ulfnar,’ Lina said. ‘I should have told you.’

  Told him? Lina was just a figment of his imagination. How could she have known that his father was dead? She only knew things that he knew. Except for that time she knew Dillon was coming up behind him, but that might have just been his brain hearing the assassin’s footsteps before he noticed.

  “Come,” she said. “The archduke won’t send for us for some time yet, and I’m hungry.”

  Ulfnar didn’t want to go anywhere, especially somewhere in the palace where everyone from the courtesans to the servants would see his tear-streaked face. But he was hungry too.