May looked at me angrily, “Mister Bascombe, I'll see you in my rooms, immediately!”
My heart was nearly beating out of my chest. What had I done? My thoughts were racing and I could think of nothing. She was furious.
As I followed her up the stairs to her rooms, no words were spoken. We stepped into her sitting room and she spun on me, grabbing my face with her hands she kissed me deeply and passionately.
“We don't have time for this, My Love, I just needed to taste your lips. I've been missing you so terribly. I love you, My Dear.”
Another quick peck on my lips and she took my hand and led me back downstairs. “I love you too, My Heart,” I whispered to the back of her beautiful head.
Janiver was missing when we returned. “Where has she gone? I asked. In his deep baritone, Everyón told me to watch the crystal ball. In it, I could see a large clearing in the forest. Hundreds of men, Swalesians, busily sawing and hammering, assembling trebuchets from freshly fallen redwoods. There were already five completed behind them. Suddenly, there came a great whistling sound, growing louder and louder until the entire scene in the ball erupted in fire and explosions. Everyón grinned. “She has called down a Meteor Swarm on their engineers. That will set them back a day or two!”
Little Janiver had done this. The destruction was absolute. Flaming bodies littered the ground and the completed trebuchets, siege towers and prepared lumber were nothing but embers and ash.
“First blood is ours!” Everyón yelled to cheers from the room.
May was smiling, but you could see that she didn't want to get too excited about a relatively small victory. At the same time, more cheers as one of Janiver's underlings completed the reading of a scroll and those around the crystal ball watched a similar fate befall the Gnolls in the East of the Wood. In the ensuing chaos, the Sun Elves executed a charge of their heavy cavalry into the rear of the Gnolls’ camp, killing hundreds and setting fire to whatever would burn.
In the West, King Cromar’s army came out of Feersland and attacked the mercenary camp from their rear as the High Elves began loosing their trebuchet shot into the mercenary front lines, boulders of clay, peat, and rock coated in flaming pitch caused significant unsteadiness in the mercenaries' morale. Moon Elf horse archers began harassing their rear flanks and mercenary officers began acting on their own accord, chasing the Elves off only to leave the pursuers cut off from the main host to be picked apart.
As trumpets blared, the same sound that had announced the arrival of Prince Anoresti only a few days earlier, the enemy on all fronts began to withdraw. Not completely, but to spots out of range of trebuchet and bow.
Watching all of this unfold in the crystal ball, a valet suddenly appeared, tapping on my arm. “Sir, Her Majesty requests Your and others' presence in the ballroom at once, and don't dilly dally.” He said that last bit rather forcefully.
“Did you add that last part, Timmins, or was it her?”
“Oh Sir, it was her, of course. I'm not quite so impudent.”
I gave the lad a royal and he ran off happily.
So, what was all this about?
May, Margrin, Pelisir, Janiver, and Veralia were listening intently to Field Marshal Everyón as he pointed out various enemy formations on the large scale map. Two others were with them now, I recognized one as Mother Felistia . The other must be her counterpart, Father Vastila. Looking skyward for assistance, were we?
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“Ah, Mister Bascombe!” May called out to me, "Allow me to introduce Mother Felistia and Father Vastila.”
“Your Grace and Your Grace, it's an honor.”
May went on, They're here to offer some valuable insight and to deliver some good news, I'm told.
“That's correct, Your Majesty,” Vastil said, "we've been conducting our own experiments with the included amber. First, you must limit our access to it. The stuff has a powerful draw. As strong as we both are already, it could make us like gods. Power -crazed gods with no checks. That would be as bad if not worse than seeing it happen to Mag'stula or Cralix.”
“And what's the good news? I asked, dryly.
“Well, Mister Bascombe, we have divine magic that allows us to call upon the god we serve in times of trouble. Sometimes they hear, most times, they do not. A god can always choose to ignore you. The included amber has given us a conduit which allows us to speak directly with élois. But, that's not entirely good news just yet. For now it's just news. Unfortunately, he is as embattled as we are. This is no isolated thing we are enduring; this is a brazen attempt by the most powerful forces of evil to wrest control of all of Creation from the gods of good. They seek to remake our world as a tenth layer of Hell. The nine sitting archdukes of Hell, Anislaya, Ba’al, the Lord of Shadows, Milial, the Death Hag, Siren, the Tainted, Zinurial, and the Black King will open a new plane to accept the triumvirate of Mag'stula, ?rdelon and Cralix. The Material Plane will be no longer. In its place will be the Corruption.”
“I'll let that all sink in. We won't bear witness to any of that war, but make no mistake, that war and ours are one and the same. élois is not alone, he has many good gods as allies. His is not an impossible task, but we must do what we can to help. Of course, eliminating ?rdelon and Cralix is key as is getting rid of Mag'stula. But that responsibility falls on the shoulders of the White Queen, Mater Carca.”
“We are here, Felistia and myself, to discuss the destruction of the would-be triumvirate.”
“Do we know where Cralix and ?rdelon have your parents, Mister Bascombe?”
“We haven't discussed it, Your Grace, but likely at their seaside villa in Sandlise.”
“Mister Ephisieryón, we need the help of the Syndicate in this matter, will they offer it?”
“Everybody really does know everything around here,” Margrin mumbled. Out loud, he said “I believe so Your Grace.
Father Vastila continued, have one of Janiver's underlings teleport you to Rathkin immediately. They need to discreetly surround that villa so that we know who is there, who comes, and who goes.
Just then the doors to the ballroom were thrown open and two guards entered, throwing a young Elf, shackled, to his knees before the assembly.
“Ah,” said May, “young Mister Phaelryón, we wondered where you had gotten off to.”
“Who is this?” I asked.
“Mister Phaelryón is an assistant to ?rdelon. He's been missing from his teaching duties. What is the situation here?” she asked the senior guard.
“Your Majesty, he was in ?rdelon's workshop retrieving a large satchel of included amber from a hiding place beneath the floorboards. We caught him as he was about to read a Teleportation scroll. He would have gotten away if it hadn't been for the vigilance of one of your valets, Master Waldinor.”
“Waldinor,” the Queen declared, “you are now my personal valet and will be given a medal for bravery at the earliest convenience. Thank you Good Sir!”
The boy bowed at the waist and left the room looking as if he couldn't be happier without hurting himself.
“Guards, take this wretched creature to the stockade!”
“Don't despair. We know where they are Mister Phaelryón! Your actions today were for naught.”
Over his shoulder, the Wizard said scornfully, “Oh, but you're mistaken, my Dear Queen! You've been so worried about these armies that you've neglected your common sense,” he laughed a ghoulish laugh, “That's the first lesson in watching a magician. You must pay attention to both hands!”
As tough as she wanted to appear, these last words shook the Queen. I think they shook us all. What had we missed? Or was he bluffing?
May was emphatic, “Everyone go over everything in your heads! What could he have meant?”
Just then, another guard came rushing into the room, running up to Field Marshal Everyón and stabbing him in the armpit where his armor had a gap. The guard quickly ran to the door and made a gesture with his hand. Suddenly, he was an Aardgnoll, a female in a black cloak, still holding the dagger.
“This is for you all!” she said as she dropped a small scroll on the floor. Then she vanished, blending into shadow then gone. Just that fast, Pelisir, kneeling over the Field Marshal’s body said “He's dead! That blade must have been coated in a very lethal poison, ice toad mucus or the like.
I rushed to grab the scroll the assassin had dropped. Opening it slowly in case it was coated with a poison powder or similar lethal trap, I could see it was covered in an elegant, hand-written script.
“Mister Badcombe, will you please read us what's in the scroll? May asked.
“Very well,” I cleared my throat,
“You will note that I spared no expense, and went to the best assassins in the world so that this would be as quick and clean as possible. Likely while you're reading this, I am in the act of relieving you of your stockpile of included amber. Cralix and I have an immediate need if we want to take your city from you too. And we shall. A nightmare is coming. I'm sorry our relationship had to end on such a sour note, but you couldn't offer me what the Devil Princes have. I'll be on a throne built on the dust of your civilization. Perhaps in another lifetime, you may choose more wisely. Alas, we only get this one though. Cheers.
“And it's signed ?rdelon.”
“Why that treacherous monster!” May yelled. “He'll die for this! I'll pray to élois' for his painful death until one of us is gone! And it damn well won't be me!”
“Janiver,” she bellowed, "can you check the amber with your ball?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” A moment later, she reported, “Gone, My Queen. She must have used an empowered Transportation spell to move that kind of weight. Impressive.”
“Why wasn't that better protected?”
Pelisir answered her, “We talked about it, Your Majesty, but the vaults were never built. Things have moved too quickly."
Then the fault is mine and mine alone, Count Pelisir.”
“Janiver, get in touch with the High Elves and Wood Elves. Gather every ounce of included amber you can find and have it brought here.”