A field of white silk rustled in the breeze. The glistening strands separated and whipped about in a wild dance that was quickly shrouded by a midnight hood. The figure turned and called to someone. The hood floated free, snatched by the wind. A pale hand rose to shield a face from the angry gust. Between her slender fingers, white lashes blinked over silver irises that glittered brightly in the rising sun.
Rezkin awoke with a start. He could smell the earthy scent of evergreens and feel the sting of the wind across his exposed flesh. The stone against his chest burned nearly too hot for him to touch. Enough light stole through the gaps in the shutters for him to see that the heavy weight on his lap was a rope. When he reached to remove it, the rope suddenly squirmed. As it coiled around itself, Rezkin froze. It was a snake; and, in the dim light, he could not see which kind. It was not the first time he had awoken with snakes in his bed. The strikers at the fortress had used the training scenario several times and not just with snakes. He had several options but ultimately decided he had best capture the creature to study it in better lighting.
Very slowly, he reached up to grip the edge of the bedcovering. He whipped the blanket off while simultaneously leaping from the bed and twisting the material so that it spun around itself. The snake thrashed within the wrapped blanket before finally settling. A brief survey of the room revealed that no other creatures or people had invaded. After finding the head, he unwrapped the creature’s body. It had the markings of a constrictor common to the region, nonvenomous and too small to have caused him serious harm. When he finally uncovered the head, he sighed and dropped the snake.
He looked into one yellow-orange eye and said, “What do you want, Bilior?”
The snake raised its head, which began to distort in grotesque bulges until it appeared vaguely humanoid, somewhat resembling a drauglic.
A black, forked tongue silently tasted the air, and then it hissed, “The you brings the army to the we.”
“I am working on that,” Rezkin said. “I have not yet secured our sanctuary that you promised.”
The snake’s body twisted back and forth in a mesmerizing display of patterned scales. “They come,” it said, and then it burst into millions of beetles that swarmed up the wall and through the gaps in slats of the shutters.
Rezkin peered out the window to see that the sun had just barely left the horizon and was mostly obscured by a drizzling overcast sky. He armed himself and dressed for training. Stepping lightly, so as not to wake the others, he slipped into the main corridor. The guards did not notice him right away, and he was several steps ahead when they finally called out to him.
“Ah, my lord, where are you going?” the blonde guard said.
Without stopping, Rezkin replied, “It is Your Majesty, and I am going to the practice yard.”
“But … you are not supposed to leave your room without an escort,” said the second guard.
Rezkin continued walking as he said, “Then, you had best catch up.”
The blonde remained at the door while the second, a bearded, brunette in his late twenties, jogged to join him. “Sir, ah, Your Majesty, the queen has authorized you to use the royal family’s facilities, which are in the other direction.”
“I prefer to visit the main practice yard.”
“But, Your Majesty, it is raining.”
“I am aware of that,” Rezkin said.
“The royal practice yard is covered and raised so the ground will be dry.”
Rezkin stopped and looked at the man who was several inches shorter than he was. “Guardsman, have you ever been in a battle?”
The man proudly said, “Yes, I have been in a number of confrontations between the echelons. I was also captain of the city guard before being given the honor of serving in the palace.”
Rezkin said, “Did all of those confrontations occur on a dry day?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then we should practice in the rain,” Rezkin said as he continued in his brisk walk.
“We, Your Majesty?”
“You are to guard me, yes? In the event that I should decide to cause trouble, it is your duty to subdue me?”
“Well, yes, I suppose, but I am also assigned to protect you.”
Rezkin said, “Then you and I had best see where we stand.”
By the time Rezkin was finished with him, the guardsman could barely stand at all. They had entered the practice yard unnoticed at first. Rezkin had drawn a drab brown cloak over his head, as had most of the people scurrying around in the rain, and his plain brown traveling pants and beige tunic were unremarkable. One of the other guards recognized Rezkin’s escort, though.
“Hey, Mik, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on duty?” said the guard. He looked to be a few years older than Rezkin’s escort. The man stood from a bench at the side of the practice yard and slogged through the mud to join them. Two others who had been chatting beneath the awning of a supply room came to join them.
“I am on duty,” Mik said, with a glance at Rezkin.
The first man nodded toward him. “Who’s this, then? One of the foreign king’s guards? Don’t remember him bringing a man. Too bad it ain’t the woman, eh? She’s a looker.”
Rezkin kept his gaze on the men practicing in the yard as an excuse to hide his face. He said, “She would destroy you.”
All the men but Mik laughed. The older man said, “I don’t think I’d mind being destroyed by that one. I might even let her win if I thought she’d use me to celebrate.”
“She does often use her fallen opponents to celebrate,” Rezkin said, and the men all nodded appreciatively. “She places their heads on a pike and parades them through the streets like a victory banner.”
The other men guffawed and slapped the first on the back. One of them said, “Your head would look good on a pike, Ger.”
Then another said, “It would look better there than on your body.”
Ger replied, “I already got a head on a pike, and I’ll be using it to do the stabbing.” The men laughed again, and Ger said, “What are you two doing down here, then?
“Mik is going to show me what he will do to me if I cause trouble,” said Rezkin.
Mik shook his head. “You know, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Queen Erisial will be angry if you are injured.”
Rezkin removed his cloak and said, “If you manage injure me, perhaps she will claim you instead.”
The practice had been a weak warmup, and Rezkin was not satisfied. It was all he had time for, though, given that he was supposed to meet the queen for the midday meal. Several of the guards would be missing their shifts, and they all agreed to leave him alone if he caused trouble. The consensus was to let the mages handle it. Even so, he had restrained himself from seriously injuring anyone.
Yserria was standing at the edge of the practice yard when Rezkin finished. She smirked and said, “Did you leave any for me?”
“I warmed them up a bit. You can finish them off.”
Both of their gazes slid to the men, who were unconvincingly trying to appear tough while hobbling around nursing their wounds.
“What are you doing here?” Rezkin said as he wiped his face with a drying cloth provided by one of the guards. Although the rain had stopped, he was soaked and covered in mud.
Yserria said, “I figured you would be stirring things up, so I listened for the loudest noise. It does not surprise me that you are also filthy, although I might have expected it to be blood and gore.” She nodded toward the small crowd that was gathering in a courtyard beside the practice field. “What’s happening over there?”
“Shall we see?” Rezkin replied.
Mik limped up to them as Rezkin dumped a pail of water over his head to wash away the mud. The guardsman was accompanied by Bruthes, the captain of the royal guard, who was also limping but on the other leg. Rezkin introduced Yserria and then inquired about the gathering.