Chapter 2 #2
“Commended me to…I’m dead? I was meant to be Duke of Fanost,” Kerik says. His voice sounds strange. Weak.
“You were never going to be Duke of Fanost.”
Kerik shakes his head. “No. I am heir to the Duchy of Fanost.” He insists it as if he is talking to another courtier.
“The title passed to me when my grandsire died with no sons. My mother is Lady Ilyne of Fanost. My father is Prince Rafus. The Crown Prince. I am of two great and noble lines. In my mother’s betrothal agreement it was asserted that her line would retain the title Duke of Fanost in perpetuity. ”
Perl seems to have a small smile on his face when he says, “You were never going to be Duke of Fanost. You are bastard born. No matter how noble your parents.”
“I would not expect a faerie to understand.”
Perl raises a pale eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you?”
Kerik grunts with annoyance. He’s bound to a chair by magic.
His head and skin feel strange and his captor is disclaiming Kerik’s bloodright.
But at least this makes something clearer.
“And so that's why you took me? Did you snatch me from the Rose Palace to stop the Rose Court declaring me Duke of Fanost?”
“I did not take you from the Rose Palace.”
“Where did you take me from?”
“I encountered you in Lunatum.”
“Lunatum,” Kerik scoffs. “I’ve never even been to Lunatum.”
“No? It’s in Fanost. One of the largest cities in that land. The land you apparently think is your bloodright. Have you ever been there?” Perl is quite definitely smiling now. Mocking.
Kerik shakes his head, annoyed. “It doesn’t matter whether I’ve been there. That’s not how it works. It is my bloodright.”
“Kerik Darekul, the Rose Court were never going to allow a bastard born wretch anywhere near that kind of power. Not to mention the fact that giving you such a title would have led many to ask why you, and others, were not part of the royal line. If bastardy was no obstacle to ruling Fanost, why should it be to ruling Azuria?”
“The Duke of Fanost was my grandfather,” Kerik says, wondering if Perl has already forgotten this.
“I am aware of the facts. It is not me you need to convince.”
“Then who is Duke of Fanost? If I have been gone for five years they must have given someone that title.”
“Correct. And in your absence it was decreed by Emperor Selim that the title is now bestowed on the Heir, second of the Imperial Line. That is currently your trueborn half brother, Prince Atticul.”
Kerik jerks in the chair. “Atticul?" he barks out. “Zai’s fucking eyes.”
“An appropriate sentiment. But I do have some important business to discuss with you. Unless there is more you want to ask.”
More? Is there more he wants to ask? Kerik feels like he knows less than when he started asking questions. “There is a lot more,” he spits across the table. “Who paid you to keep me here?”
“No one. The reasoning behind my actions for taking you and keeping you here is a long story and one we do not have time for this evening. But all will be explained to you very shortly, once I have dealt with the urgent matter at hand. I assure you I only care about your wellbeing.”
“My wellbeing?” Kerik finds himself jolting in the chair, as if he is trying to stand, but he is held fast, still unable to move anything except his right arm. “Why should I trust the intentions of someone who has abducted me and convinced the world I am dead?”
“I did not convince them of anything. Your mother was the one who did that. However, you are alive.”
“And now you are going in circles. Please, forget about being declared Duke of Fanost. That is long past. You have another path that is far more important. But there is someone who wishes to prevent you from attaining it. I have woken you because she has been here while you were sleeping. She could not break through the wards I put on your doors. But now this place has been discovered, I have no doubt she will find a way. She is a powerful witch. You cannot remain here. I am sending you to Ceruleum. To the Ivory Palace. Where Princess Karo will take you to meet with Doroth Zain at the Bride House.”
Kerik pauses while he takes all of this in. His captor is sending him to Ceruleum? “You’re sending me to Princess Karo? My father’s wife? And to Doroth Zain, The High Word of Zai.”
“Yes. Doroth Zain knows well of the battle we face. He will keep you safe. Until I can join you there.”
“Battle? Doroth Zain? Are you sure?” This cannot be correct. Doroth Zain, Kerik is certain, does not care for him at all. “Are you sure you don’t mean Vindar? Chancellor Vindar. He is Doroth Zain’s older brother.”
“I know exactly who Chancellor Vindar is,” Perl says. “And I have not confused the Thousand Eyes for The High Word of Zai.”
Kerik decides the only thing he can do is drink more of the tea.
It does seem to be helping his mind clear.
He reaches for the teapot and finds he can do so easily.
He refills his cup and says, “Who is this person who has scared you so?” He picks up the steaming cup and blows over the hot surface before he drinks a little.
It tastes quite foul. He looks up. Perl nudges the dish of honey towards him.
He adds a spoonful and takes another sip. It tastes a lot better. The tea is quite strange. It is unpleasant without the honey and delicious with it.
As he’s doing this, Perl takes up a small brass bowl containing what looks to be dirty salt and stands from the table. He begins to make a circle on the stone floor in front of the large, black hearth. “It is not a name you would know, and one I would rather not speak.”
Kerik watches Perl for a moment, the orange light of the fire behind him makes his ethereal glow seem even more unworldly. “And because of this person, we must go to Ceruleum?”
“Not us. You. I have another mission.”
Kerik drinks more of the tea. “So you’re simply releasing me? You have kept me in a magical sleep for five years only to return me to Azuria? Was that the plan? Were you meant to keep me until after Atticul had been named Duke of Fanost?”
“No.” Perl says, still working on his circle.
He seems to be pacing out a precise size.
“I have already told you that this is not about being named Duke of Fanost. You will not be going to Attar. Doroth Zain will not allow you to return to the Rose Palace. Your location must not be revealed to many. You are in too much danger. You will be kept safe there.”
This creature might be eager to insist that he does not care about Kerik being named Duke of Fanost, but, to Kerik it is obvious what has been done.
Atticul has taken his title while he is presumed dead and now that is done he will be delivered to the Faith, And he has no doubt about what it means in Azuria to be imprisoned by the High Word of Zai.
He will likely be tortured into confessing to sins of the body before he is revealed to the Rose Court, shamed and bound for exile. He needs to find another way out of this.
Perl makes a second circle of salt inside the first and mutters something over them.
Kerik watches. So this is magic. It’s quite fascinating. Perl is performing some kind of ritual, each movement precise. Magic is real, he thinks, barely able to believe it. And if magic is real could he learn such from this creature? Can men learn magic?
Perl picks up a vial from a shelf above the hearth and sprinkles some water onto the salt circle.
“Are you going to tell me where you’re going?” says Kerik.
Perl looks up, looking as if he finds this question surprising. “I must travel to Ulla. To the realm of the fae. To Faerie. To the Ice Court at Vylenor.”
Kerik is silent for a moment, watching as Perl completes his strange sprinkling of liquid and chanting.
But…
Vylenor. Kerik has heard of Vylenor. In the tales where the fae live on the isles of Ulla and Oria, frozen lands, north of Ismagaar, they have a palace called Vylenor.
Of course, most men do not even believe it exists, that there could be anything out there in the ice.
But now Kerik knows different. If faeries are real, if their magic is real, then Vylenor is real.
And it is said, by those that claim them real, that there is great wealth in the fabled faerie lands.
Kerik says, “Why not take me with you there? To Vylenor?”
“No,” Perl snaps. “It is too dangerous.”
“You have already claimed I am in grave danger if I remain here,” Kerik says brightly.
He has no doubt that the danger was a tale to mask a darker plan.
But he suspects this faerie believes what he says.
Perhaps someone from the Rose Court has tricked him somehow.
Kerik knows he can be persuasive. Silver tongued, like his mother.
So he says, “And what if this witch who has scared you so follows me to Ceruleum? Without you, I would be defenceless. But…,” Kerik pauses thinking, “she would not be able to follow us to the faerie realm, would she?”
“No. She would not. But I cannot take you there. You have no idea what that place is like for mortals. ”
“So, I suppose the question,” Kerik says easily, “Is which is the more dangerous option? Sending me alone to Ceruleum or taking me with you to Vylenor?” He smiles at Perl, trying to look as charming as possible.
Surely, even this staid creature would relish the thought of an attractive travelling companion.
“I suppose,” says Perl, as if he is amazed to find he is even entertaining this idea. “I would be better able to protect you if I kept you with me. But, no, I cannot take you to Vylenor. The fae who live in Vylenor are not… it would be difficult.”
“Just more faeries? That is the danger. You think I can’t handle more of you?”
“The fae who live in Vylenor are not like me.”
“No? Why not?”