Three days had now passed since I met Candor and Leolyn in the cavern. For some reason, Leolyn had become like a leech on me. He followed me everywhere, even down to my personal quarters. The angry look on my face right now was because of this kingdomless king.
At least his stupidity had eased some of my boredom, with Caster and Derek away on that expedition in Negrichor. For all his faults, he did mean well. He would make a finer Emperor than I; he was raised well by his father.
"We're equal now, Emon. One more game and we will see to our business," the seventeen-year-old King said.
Leolyn's unfortunate rise to the throne had also pushed King Alaric of Varholt from his place. Alaric had done splendid work. But whether he could have done the same under Leolyn's circumstances was unknown.
Flagwar. Flagwar was a strategic game that somewhat simulated battlefield strategies on a board. Each side had sixteen figurines. Seven foot soldiers who wore only chain mail. Five knights donning metal armour, two powerful divine trait users with halos above their heads, one king wearing a crown with a halo over it. The last piece was an emperor painted in gold while wearing a crown with a halo above it.
"I'm impressed, Leolyn, but we won't have another round," I said as I started putting the pieces into their case.
To be honest, I didn't think I could have won the third game. He felt like an adaptive opponent. Leolyn Blaran—I had a feeling his deeds would someday live within poems and the lyrics of bards. Whether it would be because of his fall or his feats, I knew not.
Leolyn now stood beside the window overlooking the courtyard. Talia was there, embroidering with her maids. She noticed Leolyn's gaze and bowed in return. Come to think of it, this man had reduced the time I spent with her. I should have been writing poems while she read them in the courtyard. Maybe I would even be the one to write his poems.
I threw an apple at his blue-haired head. "Ouch… Emon," he said as he rubbed the back of his head.
"Let's move. We have a lot of ground to cover, and we're only two men," I said as I picked up my sword from the table.
Leolyn already had his sheathed at his waist. "You're still a boy, Emon. In Velecor, you're not yet a fully grown man. Maybe—"
I gave him a death stare, and he ceased his gibberish immediately. "We should spar sometime, my King. I'd like to see how strong of a man you are."
He gave me a pained smile as he replied, "That would be good, wouldn't it?" Leolyn then gave me a wondering look as he asked, "Do you have it?"
I opened a drawer on the left side of my bed and brought out a green-coated metal box. From within it, I retrieved two identical objects. "Have you done your part?" I asked curiously.
Without replying, Leolyn left the room and, after what felt like an eternity, though it was only ten minutes, returned with two unconscious men. "Yes, I did my part," he answered with a smile.
I smiled in return. "These are the Dual Mirrors of Margerie. Objects that can disguise us by taking another's countenance and placing it upon us. Look directly into the mirror while holding it in front of the face you wish to become. And most importantly, mention their existence to no one. I had to steal them from the Vault of Furnace. My father must not hear of it."
"Understood," replied Leolyn.
After taking the shapes of the men, we tied them up and put them inside my wardrobe. We snuck out of the Castle to avoid being seen. After all, what would men like that be doing within the Imperial Castle? I still wondered how Leolyn had brought them here.
We quickly made our way to our first destination, the Cemetery Guild. The Cemetery Guild was created during the reign of Emperor Denryn. He carried out his conquests at the cost of countless dead bodies. In his "benevolence," he created the guild to bury the dead for free. Till today, they still operated under that mandate.
I walked toward the first man I saw in the office, a well-built middle-aged man. Luckily for us, he was wetting his throat with a tankard of ale. Luckily, we had brought more with us. "Good day, sir. The sun is high; we thought it would be good to help you pass the time," Leolyn said skillfully.
Without even pausing to think, the brown-haired man dragged the large leather pouch from Leolyn's hand. "So what do you want to know?" the man asked as he aggressively poured ale into a metallic cup.
Leolyn and I quickly took our seats beside him. "The wind brings news of grave robbing. Most importantly, a royal grave was robbed," Leolyn said, his pain almost surfacing.
The man first gulped down an entire cup before answering, "News travels fast, eh? The body of someone important was dug up. His heart was taken while his corpse was left uncared for."
Leolyn clenched his fists as he asked, "Do you know who did this?" The man's face showed a hint of anger as he answered, "Of course not. Ours is a sacred duty. Also, the one who dug it up is not skilled enough to belong to this guild."
If someone had done this to my father's body, I'm not sure I would have been as strong as Leolyn. Thankfully, the Clovis are burned to ashes when we die. Now then, apparently, due to the difference in skill, the Cemetery Guild was not likely to be the culprit. By now, Uncle Lenourth should have placed men to investigate and guard the cemeteries. We should probably go see him tomorrow and ask for news regarding the issue.
I guessed it was time to move on. "Thank you, sir. A tankard of ale was a steep price to pay for a story fit for the mouth of a bard," Leolyn said as he stood, as if reading my intentions.
"Come again with more ale next time. Though I don't know whether I will have a new story to tell," the man said as he finally emptied the pouch into his cup.
We continued our journey to the Cemetery of Honour. There, the bodies of soldiers, nobles, kings, and emperors lay in peace. There was no segregation of station there. Denryn himself was buried beside a twenty-year-old foot soldier. The policy was good at the time, but I saw it for what it truly was—a way of making soldiers fight harder and give their lives for the cause. And when they died, they would die in equality with their commanders and be buried side by side with them. Manipulative, I say.
There were guards stationed around the cemetery. Leolyn and I peeked through a wall to observe their positions. From their Firehawk crests, they were soldiers belonging to Central Velecor. Why would the military be here? Maybe Uncle Lenourth had found a lead.
I looked at Leolyn and shook my head in disapproval. "We can carry on no longer. The Firehawks are here," I whispered.
Leolyn looked a tad unhappy, but soon after, he gave me a look of understanding. As if to prove it, he was the first to move in the opposite direction. We could try to sneak in and perhaps incapacitate them, but not with these bodies. Even setting that aside, our two-hour time limit would soon elapse. I estimated we had about ten to fifteen minutes before the Mirrors of Margerie lost their effect on us. If both of us were seen in our normal forms, word would spread from Lenourth to Father.
Luckily, we had planned for this to be our last destination since it was closer to the Castle. Nobody would ask questions if they saw us just outside the Castle premises. Even though we did not want Lenourth to know about our activities, it seemed we would simply have to meet him and try to elicit answers from him. Father could probably have told me as well, but for some reason, he had seemed downcast lately. I did not believe it was because of the death of a friend, though.
We left the cemetery and headed for Lenourth's Castle. All the nobles in Central Velecor lived within a walled city called the Golden Wall. The Clovis, however, did not build their Imperial Palace inside that walled city. Instead, my ancestors chose to build theirs before the Devner Woods. Even then, the structure of the Castle was protected by walls. Still, the Clovis maintained their old castle within the Golden Wall from before they became emperors. Many members of my family called that place home.
Now then, "Let's go to my uncle. I could perhaps get a word out of him," I said quietly.
My words seemed to reinvigorate Leolyn, who assented with a nod. The Golden Wall was visible from here, and based on my calculations, we could reach it in about twenty minutes. By then, the effects of Margerie would have worn off. We had to be careful not to let the disguise fade while people were watching or draw attention afterward.
We had reached halfway through our journey when the effects began to wear off. Luckily for us, we passed through dark alleyways made dim by the closeness of buildings and their protruding roofs. But alas, another problem arose. Emon Clovis—heir to the Gyrspine—and Leolyn Blaran—King of Dornwick—were both dressed in clothes unbefitting of nobles. But we could always invent excuses for that.
Leolyn gave me a look of astonishment, which I answered with laughter. "We will tell them we wanted to see Damattis as it truly was, without standing out or becoming the subjects of bows and greetings."
We continued our march and finally came upon the gates of the Golden Wall. "Who goes there?" a soldier on the watchtower called out.
I intentionally changed my expression into one of displeasure as I said, "I am High Prince Emon Clovis. The longer you make me stand beneath this scorching sun, the longer my statement regarding your unruly conduct will be." I maintained the same expression throughout.
The soldier whispered to the man beside him. After about ten seconds, they ordered a soldier below to open the gate. As we passed, the soldiers came to attention. However, the one who had questioned me was shaking. "You only did your duty, soldier," I said with a smile as I waved for them to stand at ease.
The homes of the nobles had small fences separating them. Their castles were large enough to house extended families, household staff, and guards. As for soldiers, no House possessed any of their own. All soldiers were sworn to the Firehawks of the Clovis. House Clovis' castle stood at the easternmost part of the city. But I knew a shortcut—a path I often took whenever I slipped away with ladies.
"Follow me, Leolyn. I know a path," I said as I pointed toward an alleyway.
Leolyn took in the sights as we walked. Dornwick was somewhat of a modest kingdom due to attacks from the Unfettered Four. If we won the war and the south ceased to be a problem, then perhaps he could build Dornwick into something as magnificent.
After a modest walk, I could hear the sound of a spring pouring into a lake. We had finally reached the castle. At the front were beautiful gardens watched over by men of the Firehawks. At the back rested a spring and a lake. It was magnificent—more magnificent than the Imperial Palace. And by our House tradition, this legally belonged to Caster. Springend, the birthright of the spare.
I immediately made my way toward Uncle's study, or wherever he might have been. In my haste, I ignored the greetings of household staff, guards, and even family members. It was almost midday; he should have been in his study. I rushed there and, luckily, after I knocked, I received a reply from the man himself.
He closed the book he was reading immediately upon seeing me. "Ah, Emon. What brings you here? I..." He wanted to continue, but the appearance of Leolyn behind me changed his mind. "King Leolyn, what brings you here as well?" he asked curiously.
"Is there a short Clovis?" Leolyn whispered as he tiptoed toward my ear.
I simply ignored him and asked permission to sit. To put it simply, Central Velecor did not have a king, but the High Lord was equivalent to one. So yet again, I found myself in the presence of people of superior station. In truth, I still did not see myself as the future Emperor.
High Lord Lenourth called for maids who brought tea and cake. But none of us touched them; our purpose was greater than the desires of our stomachs.
We sized each other up until Leolyn ended the silence. "My father's heart... any news?" he asked uncomfortably.
Uncle Lenourth took a deep breath before answering, "No news. We have seen similar cases of grave robbing, but the matter of the hearts... your guess is as good as mine. The Emperor believes the one stealing the hearts sells them. Maybe he possesses a trait that allows him to transfer divine traits through the harvesting of hearts."
Lenourth opened the book he had been reading before Emon and Leolyn entered. It was brown, painted with streaks of gold. "This is a detailed profile of every member of the Firehawks. But I doubt any of them would become grave robbers. I always advised Daemon to document every blessed citizen of Central Velecor, but he disagreed. And now we are here."
I glanced at Leolyn, and for some reason, he was smiling, filled with renewed energy. "Someone who sells divine traits, you say?" he asked, brightness filling his eyes. "We must find him," he continued.
Leolyn. He was planning something. Something I couldn't predict.