The Deadly Decisions Trilogy

By M.M. Brownlow

Despite efforts to kill Eryk and Aislynn, the pair have managed to finally make their way down the wedding aisle, but their marriage is far from peaceful. Whispers abound, trying to force them apart, and the attacks continue. As Rhys gets ever closer to accomplishing his goal - the destruction of the pact that binds Bacovia and Evendell - it seems like danger lurks around every corner.

This boxed set contains the novels Whispers, Sacrifices and Retaliation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M.M. Brownlow
• Release date: Jul 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463219508

M.M. Brownlow

M.M. Brownlow works as an elementary teacher and lives with her husband and three sons in Ontario, Canada. She's also surrounded by a variety of "critters" - a dog, two cats, two guinea pigs, a hamster, a pair of frogs, and a leopard gecko. Life is never boring, and she finds herself often wishing for more hours in a day.

Book preview

Chapter 1

A messenger arriving during breakfast was never a good sign. 

The palace dining hall was filled with sunlight and the warm summer breeze, the delicate scent of flowers adding to the aroma of freshly baked bread. King Eryk and Queen Aislynn, the rulers of the large and powerful kingdom of Bacovia, sat at either end of the head table entertaining their usual breakfast companions. Lord Branden, the king’s chief advisor and best friend, sat beside Eryk. He leaned closer to the king as they spoke, Branden’s blond hair catching the morning sunlight streaming in from the open garden doors. Lady Marja, Branden’s wife and the queen’s good friend, sat beside her husband and to Aislynn’s right, while Lord Byron, captain of the royal guard, sat to the queen’s left. Cheta, a wolf eesprid and Aislynn’s magical companion, lay in a patch of sunlight not far from the table, and the only other occupants of the room were the guards stationed at the two sets of doors.

Breakfast was the one time of the day when the royal couple wasn’t officially available, the dining hall closed to everyone outside of the small group and their invited guests, so for anybody to interrupt this time meant that there was an emergency that needed to be dealt with immediately. The messenger was familiar enough with the habits of the king and queen to look apologetic as he passed the guards at the door and walked across the large room, his steps echoing hollowly.

I’m very sorry to interrupt your meal, your Majesties, the messenger said with a bow, but this cannot wait.

The messenger was dressed in the blue and silver uniform of Evendell, the neighbouring kingdom to the south and home of the queen’s family. He presented a sealed envelope to Eryk, bowed again, and left the room to seek refreshment after his journey.

What does it say? Branden asked after a few minutes. His blue eyes showed his worry and he glanced over at Aislynn.

There was an assassination attempt on Davin.

Who would attack a nine-year-old boy? Marja asked, startled. "And who could attack a boy living in the middle of an assassin Academy and a mage School?"

Eryk shook his head. It doesn’t say. In fact, the message is very… brief. He passed the message to Byron, who glanced at it before passing it on to Aislynn.

Davin, Eryk’s cousin and heir, had been sent to Evendell after a series of assassination attempts against the king’s family the previous year. One of those attacks had killed Tarren, Eryk’s father, placing Eryk on the throne he hadn’t wanted. In order to keep Davin safe, the boy was fostered to Aislynn’s father, the king of Evendell. Davin was learning governance, self-defence, and magic, and he should have been far too well protected for any sort of attack.

Is your father always so direct? the captain asked.

Aislynn glanced down at the paper in her hands.

Eryk,

There was an attack against your heir, about a week ago by the time you get this. He’ll be fine, and we’re still investigating.

Jackob

No, this letter isn’t like my father at all. In fact, this isn’t even his handwriting.

Did Natasha or Jayce write it? Eryk asked, naming Aislynn’s mother and brother. His voice was steady and his face neutral, but Aislynn could feel his worry. In addition to being his wife and queen, she was a highly trained assassin and Eryk’s magically bound bodyguard, and being able to sense his emotions was a side effect of the spell that bound her to him.

No. I don’t recognize this handwriting at all.

We need to talk to that messenger, Byron commented, rising from his chair. He strode quickly across the hall and spoke to one of the guards on duty. The man saluted and left the room at a jog.

This essentially put an end to breakfast, as nobody had much of an appetite left, and Branden escorted Marja back to their home in the city. There were no official court duties today, so he was spending the day with his wife and their infant daughter, Tabitha. Byron, Eryk and Aislynn went to the king’s study in the other wing of the castle to wait for the messenger and hopefully get more news from Evendell. Eventually, the guard arrived with the courier in tow.

The man from Evendell came into the study and bowed once more. How can I help you, your Majesties? he inquired politely.

This isn’t my father’s handwriting, Aislynn began, flourishing the letter. We were wondering who gave this to you, and what happened.

The man shook his head. I’m afraid that I don’t know the details. All I know is that his Majesty’s heir, Lord Davin, was involved in an attack of some sort. That message was given to me by a servant, so I don’t know who wrote it.

Byron nodded his thanks and dismissed the courier, then turned to face his king and queen. So the note is written by someone unfamiliar, and the messenger isn’t able to corroborate the information. What’s next?

We obviously need to find out if the message is true, Aislynn stated immediately. If someone is attacking Eryk’s heir... Well, who knows what could happen next.

And I think that your father is more than capable of carrying out the investigation. The reason we sent Davin to Evendell in the first place, aside from his need for magical training, was because having him surrounded by assassin-bodyguards was a safe thing to do. Eryk stood.

Evendell housed one of the finest assassin training Academies in any of the surrounding kingdoms. In fact, the majority of the royal family of Evendell, including the king and his heir, were assassins trained specifically to be bodyguards. Where could the heir to Bacovia possibly be safer?

I say we send a message to Jackob, find out what’s been happening, and inquire about the mages we requested at the same time, Eryk stated. Following the last of the assassination attempts against Aislynn before their wedding, ones involving a mage, Eryk had decided that it was more than time that the Bacovian court had mages of its own.

Considering the fact that it’s already been a week, if we send our own messenger, it will be nearly two weeks before we get word. It would be better if I went and—

No. Eryk’s voice cut across Aislynn’s, and the assassin turned to face her husband. 

Byron shuddered, sensing the argument that was about to erupt between the couple. He’d witnessed Aislynn’s fits of temper before, and they were downright frightening. The pact that bound Aislynn to Eryk — and Bacovia to Evendell — would keep Eryk safe from the irate assassin, but Byron had no such magical protection. He drifted away from the sitting area of the study, moving across the room toward the king’s desk, hoping that out of sight meant out of mind as the argument started.

You have no right to dictate what I can and cannot do, Aislynn stated, her brown eyes flashing and her face flushed with anger. True to her nature, the queen started to pace across the study like a caged beast while she argued her point. Her dress, fitted to the waist and with a full skirt just brushing the floor, swished with her graceful movements. Her sword, the weapon looking out of place against the red silk gown, swung at her left side as she moved, and her hand twitched toward the companion dagger at her right hip as if she longed to draw the weapon. 

"It is my right, Eryk corrected her, his voice quiet and dangerous, and his piercing blue eyes narrowed. The young king of Bacovia had only ruled for a year, but the commanding inflection of his voice was perfect. As your king, and as your husband, I forbid you to walk into what is very likely a trap."

Forbid me! And how, exactly, do you think you can possibly stop me? A flicker of panic flashed through her mind. The magical pact that bound her to Eryk also prevented her from disobeying his direct order, but that fact would never enter into any conversation.

Simple. Did you know that I happen to have an entire royal guard at my disposal to keep you here?

And did you know that I can defeat any of those guards, with or without killing them? Aislynn snapped back.

"Even you can’t beat them all at once. I will have Byron station guards outside of your rooms, outside your windows, in the halls and on the roof if I have to." Eryk gestured to the aforementioned man where he was standing in the shadows across the room. The captain grimaced as he was dragged into the argument after all.

I really don’t want to be involved in this, Byron protested, holding his hands up in front of him. But if you insist, your Majesty, I’m afraid that I do need to side with the king this time. He bowed low to Aislynn in apology, his blue eyes never leaving her brown ones.

Byron, the youngest man in the history of the Bacovian kingdom to be captain of the guard, was an incredibly talented fighter and was also able to defeat any of the men under his command; he even managed to defeat Aislynn occasionally during their morning practice sessions. Byron looked every inch the soldier he was, with short sandy blond hair, and an impeccable grey and red guard uniform. He wore a long sword at his side.

Hearing Eryk’s words and Byron’s agreement made Aislynn pause. In the relatively short time that she’d known these men, whenever both Eryk and Byron agreed on something, it was always in her best interest to pay attention… though she was often hesitant to follow their advice. She sighed and sat down on the couch. Eryk waited for a few moments before joining her, making sure she wasn’t about to lash out at him, and Cheta came over and laid her head on her mistress’s lap. The wolf could sense the assassin’s frustration, and wanted to offer comfort.

Eryk ran his hand through his black hair, pushing it back from his eyes. Look, he started, I know that you’re angry about the attack on Davin, and I don’t blame you. I’m angry too, especially since sending him away was supposed to keep him safe. But going to Evendell is just asking for trouble. I don’t need to remind you about how close you came to dying, and how often, do I?

Aislynn shook her head, her long brown hair waving softly back and forth. In the months leading up to their wedding, there had been four ‘accidents’ and eight outright attempts to kill her. A few of those tries had come very close to succeeding, actually.

But it’s been quiet since the wedding, she muttered. And the execution that had preceded it, but neither of them mentioned that. The woman behind the attacks on Aislynn’s life, Alexius, had been obsessed with the idea of marrying Eryk and becoming the queen of Bacovia herself. The fact that Alexius had been the sister of Eryk’s best friend made her execution even more painful.

True, the king agreed, but we both know that Alexius wasn’t working alone. Who’s to say that it’s only been quiet because whoever it is was planning the attack on Davin? They’re likely just trying to draw us out from the protection of the castle, and we’d be stupid to walk right into their hands.

You can’t honestly expect us to just sit here and do nothing, Aislynn protested, her frustration starting to boil up into anger once more. Byron took the opportunity to slip silently from the king’s study, just in case.

Captain!

Glancing around the pair of guards on duty, Byron saw his junior lieutenant walking quickly down the corridor toward him. Her red hair made her immediately recognizable, as well as the fact that she was the only woman in the entire palace, aside from the queen, who wore a sword. Amanda had now finally settled into the guard and into her role as his lieutenant, after six long and difficult months.

Did the courier provide any useful information? Amanda asked quietly when Byron met her a few steps away from the study door. One of the guards who’d been on duty in the dining hall had obviously passed along information of the attack in Evendell. What are they going to do about Davin?

I don’t know, the captain admitted. Given the attacks on her Majesty in the recent past, as well as the attacks directed against his Majesty over the past year, if the message is true, I think it’s reasonable to assume that the heir to the throne will see more attacks directed at him.

Byron lapsed into silence, and the two of them made their way out of the palace proper and across the courtyard to the barracks. The captain could see labourers hard at work on the renovation project, and he hoped they’d be finished before the winter. After damage sustained during an attack on the castle the previous fall, the barracks had required some repairs. They’d started in the spring, but Byron’s plans made the project bigger than originally intended.

Following his gaze, Amanda smiled. Still considering adding more women to the guard? The second storey addition under construction was intended to house the new recruits.

"Yes, but they’re going to have to live up to your standards," Byron replied with a smile of his own. While Amanda’s introduction to the guard had been a rough one, she’d managed and was thriving now.

And do they get to experience the same interview?

Oh, most definitely! Byron grinned, remembering how he and Aislynn had ‘interviewed’ the last candidates for the guard. Aside from their application and statement of experience, guard hopefuls also needed to prove their weapon expertise.

So what happens now? Amanda asked as she followed Byron into his office.

I’m going to err on the side of caution and assume that the attacks on Aislynn will begin again. Likely attacks on Eryk too, if they’re going after Davin.

The lieutenant sighed. So that means that I’m back on bodyguard duty. 

Byron nodded, but he understood his junior lieutenant’s disappointment. As the only female guard, she was the only one who could be near Aislynn all the time.

Yet another reason to have more women in the guard, and the sooner, the better , he thought. Amanda needed to spend more of her time with Owen, Byron’s senior lieutenant and Amanda’s mentor.

I’m going to assign Ray and Stephen to her Majesty too, so you’re not alone. But you’ve got the first shift.

I’ll go and get started then. 

Amanda left the captain’s office and almost collided with Mateo. Mateo, previously one of Aislynn’s personal guards, now spent the majority of his time as the king’s visible bodyguard since Aislynn’s role as Eryk’s protector wasn’t well known. He was also on his way to begin his day, and she fell into place beside him. 

Glancing carefully over at the man walking with her, Amanda wondered about him. He had very curly brown hair, dark eyes and a slightly haunted expression. She knew that something had happened to him before she joined the guard, but she didn’t know what. And since Mateo never spoke, it was hard to find out about the situation from him and she was hesitant to just ask around. Still, even if Mateo was mostly a mystery to her, she figured that there were worse ways to spend her time than in his company.

The pair of guards reported for duty outside of the king’s study, and Amanda chuckled to see the relieved expressions on the faces of the men they were replacing. 

Be careful, one of the men warned. Things have quieted down, but they were fighting.

Mateo nodded and Amanda thanked the man for his warning. They took their places on either side of the door and settled in. Life is never boring around here , Amanda mused silently.

Chapter 2

Jackob straightened awkwardly from where he knelt beside the bed. The sleeping boy looked tiny, surrounded by blankets and pillows to keep his body as still and stable as possible so that the healing magic could do its job. Shaking his head, the king of Evendell turned away and left the room.

How is he? 

Resting. Jackob made his way over to the couch and sat down. The blond woman remained seated in the chair across from him. Thank the gods that he’s progressing as well as he is in his studies. If he hadn’t cast that spell...

Chelle, head of the Hearthridge Mage School, nodded. I’m going to be personally thanking Kaydra again. If she hadn’t seen his aptitude and started him on his second year spells early, he wouldn’t be here. Chelle was tall, blond and beautiful. She was also one of Davin’s teachers.

I wish we knew what that creature was, the king said softly, more talking aloud than anything else. And where it came from. It certainly wasn’t anything natural.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, each contemplating the recent attack. Davin had been up on the parapets of the castle walls with one of Jackob’s grandsons. While the boys were there, a huge bird-creature had attacked them, and Davin had fallen, pushed from the top of the wall. Only his quick thinking had saved him, Davin casting a new spell he’d been working on. The spell slowed his fall enough that he hadn’t died, though one of his legs was broken, his pelvis was cracked and one of his shoulders was dislocated. 

When Jackob rose to leave, Chelle followed his example. Together they left Davin’s rooms and walked down the hall toward the royal family’s suite. Jackob nodded to the guard standing duty as they passed into Jackob’s private dining room and sitting area.

I assume you came to find me because the mages are ready to leave, Jackob stated, taking a chair beside his wife at the table. He pulled a bowl of fruit closer and chose an apple while Chelle remained standing respectfully, looking at the royal couple. Jackob had straight brown hair and rich brown eyes, and Natasha, queen of Evendell, had wavy brown hair and blue eyes. They made a lovely couple, but right now they reminded her too much of their son, Jayce.

Yes, your Majesty. We have one mage from each element, so there’s a full complement of teachers. Midsummer is approaching quickly, and ideally everyone will be in place in Eaglecrest so that we can cast the summoning spell on schedule, give or take a few days.

Excellent. It will be a good thing to have mages in that court. Jackob remembered those final attacks on his youngest daughter. The fireballs that had collapsed part of the cathedral had buried him as well as Aislynn, and he still had nightmares from time to time.

How much about the attack should I reveal when her Majesty inevitably asks about it? Chelle wanted to know.

You might as well tell her everything, Jackob said with a sigh. She’ll find out one way or another, eventually, so it might as well come from you.

Natasha, who’d been listening to the conversation without comment, looked between her husband and the master mage standing a few feet away. When Jackob made no move to say anything further, she took a deep breath. When will you be returning to us, Chelle?

Jackob looked over at Chelle, startled. He’d missed her use of a personal pronoun.

I’m not planning to return, she answered quietly.

Why not?

Chelle dropped her head, brown eyes looking at the floor. I just can’t take it anymore, she finally admitted, her voice still quiet.

Natasha rose gracefully from her spot beside Jackob and walked across to the woman. Putting her arm around the mage’s shoulders, the queen guided her over to a chaise, and sitting down beside her, Natasha took Chelle’s hand. Jackob, a little uncomfortable with the emotional demonstration, remained seated at the table.

Oh sweetie, what’s happened now?

Jayce is a self-centred, arrogant man who thinks of nobody except himself, Chelle spat, her voice low and angry. He’s gone again, and not on an assignment, according to the guild. He left sometime in the night.

Natasha shook her head, and Jackob muttered something unintelligible behind them. Jayce, their only son and their heir, was a trained assassin, like his father and youngest sister. He’d been seeing Chelle on and off for years, a relationship his parents heartily approved of. Unfortunately, his job required him to leave Hearthridge frequently on assignments, and he often left without saying goodbye, which was a source of frustration for the master mage. Chelle also suspected that Jayce had other women scattered around the kingdom, which is why he wasn’t willing to commit to her permanently. The political situation was stable and Jayce didn’t need to worry about an alliance through marriage, so there wasn’t any reason for him to avoid her… unless there was someone else.

So I’ve had it, Chelle continued, anger making her voice stronger. I’m going to start the School in Bacovia, and I won’t need to worry about seeing him any longer.

Are you sure that’s what you want to do? Jackob asked, finally coming over to the women. Is that going to make you happy?

It certainly can’t make me any more miserable than I am here. I’m always waiting to see if he’ll come back to me, and it’s always worse when I know he’s alive but hasn’t bothered to check-in.

We will miss you, Natasha commented, both at the School and in the palace, here, with us. But we understand. Jayce can be very...

Childish, the king supplied with a scowl. He didn’t understand his son’s reticence. What more could Jayce possibly be looking for in a wife? The woman seated in front of him was beautiful, an accomplished mage, and the head of the Hearthridge School.

Chelle nodded, agreeing with both monarchs. I’ll miss you too, and I’ll miss Hearthridge, but I hear that Eaglecrest is a beautiful city.

It is, Jackob agreed, but it’s very different. If you get homesick, know that you’ll always have a place here.

Thank you. I’m going to appoint Kaydra the new head of the School, and the mage taking over the Spirit position is a good man. He’s strong and dedicated. He’ll do a good job.

After Chelle left, Jackob sat down next to Natasha on the chaise. It was a tight fit with the two of them, and he put his arm around his wife, drawing her closer.

What are we going to do about that boy? he asked.

"There’s nothing we can do, Natasha replied with a shake of her head. He needs to grow up on his own terms. He doesn’t neglect his duties as heir, nor his obligations as a member of the guild. If he doesn’t want to marry, that’s not really any of our business. Sherilynn has enough children to provide an heir for Evendell’s throne, if it comes down to that."

But she’s so perfect for him!

Is she? Do you really think that Chelle is perfect for Jayce, or are you just saying that because you can picture her on the throne one day?

Can’t they be one in the same? the king asked with a smirk.

Natasha just shook her head and leaned back in Jackob’s arms. Since the attack on Davin a week ago, this was an unusually quiet moment and she intended to enjoy it for as long as she could.

I really wish Jayce would leave word when he’s leaving the palace, Jackob muttered a few moments later. Natasha sighed, their moment of peace broken. 

"Talk with him when he returns. It is important that somebody know where he’s going, just in case we need to send for him."

Do you really think he has other women? Is that where he goes?

Natasha quirked an eyebrow as she turned around to look at her husband. The expression on her face answered him before she said a word. "Really? You’re asking my opinion about that?"

Yes, I am.

She sighed. I’m almost certain of it.

Sadly, I have to agree with you. Oh well… As long as he’s careful, it’s none of our business, but I sincerely hope that there aren’t any unknown grandchildren running around this kingdom.

"Maybe leaving is the best thing for Chelle, after all, Natasha mused, rising from the chaise. Come on, let’s get this day started, shall we?"

With a smile, Jackob stood and took his queen’s hand. They had a party of mages to send off, and an investigation to continue. Their son would turn up sooner or later, and then they all needed to have a little chat.

Chapter 3

Mortimer rode slowly through the streets of Eaglecrest, heading toward the palace. He shook his head, wondering again what exactly he thought he was doing here. The last time he’d been in Bacovia, he’d been here trying to kill Aislynn before she could become queen. Now, if he understood his assignment correctly, not only was he supposed to try to find a way to kill the assassin, he was also supposed to try and kill the king...

You’d think I have a death wish , Mortimer thought to himself, closing his pale green eyes briefly. In his experience, disobeying his employer would be a faster way to die. Callum, king of Madelia, was not an easy man to work for, and so here he was, the reluctant new ambassador for the Madelian court.

He’d tried to avoid this. Callum had ordered him to Bacovia shortly after his coronation ceremony, about six weeks ago. Mortimer had initially refused, which cost him part of his pay and a physical and mental beating he wasn’t going to soon forget. Most people would leave their employer for that type of behaviour — quit, as it were — but Callum had also reminded Mortimer that he knew far too much of his employer’s various machinations. Quitting his employ would be… permanent. And so, Mortimer had stalled.

"But I’m not even from Madelia," was his first argument. Mortimer, a Spirit mage from Larosia, thought it was rather odd for someone with his background to be the Madelian ambassador to the Bacovian court. Callum had argued that since he was from Larosia, he’d be able to represent Madelia without a personal agenda.

I can’t try to kill Aislynn again, Mortimer tried next. I wasn’t successful last time, and this time I don’t have a crazy woman with a seemingly bottomless purse to fund the attacks.

"But the queen will now be distracted with her new husband, Callum reasoned. She won’t be as attentive, perhaps. And you have the backing of the Madelian crown, which will make a considerable allowance available to you."

Mortimer tried arguing his lack of diplomatic skills, which made Callum laugh and point out that since Mortimer had managed to survive his employ for so long, that was obviously not true. So then the mage pointed out his age; at only twenty-four, Mortimer didn’t really have the life experience to make a good ambassador. The king of Madelia countered that by pointing out that the majority of Eryk’s court was young. Eryk himself had just celebrated his twenty-sixth birthday, and the queen was only twenty-four. With a sigh, Mortimer made one last desperate attempt to get out of the assignment, commenting that being an ambassador should come with a pay raise.

The mage reined his horse in, stopping at the gate at the guard’s request. Reaching into the bag hanging from his belt to get his papers for the guard’s inspection, Mortimer’s fingers brushed against the gold and silver coins that marked the first of the bonuses he’d now be receiving. He should have known that asking for more money wouldn’t have deterred Callum from sending him here. It certainly hadn’t worked before, when the king of Madelia had sent him after Vivien’s cousins after the queen’s assassination.

Everything seems to be in order, my Lord, the guard commented respectfully, handing Mortimer the diplomatic papers. Please proceed to the castle and ask for Lady Liora. She will help you get settled.

Thank you. Mortimer nodded to the guard and nudged his horse to get the beast moving again. Passing through the gates, he rode into the bustling courtyard and was enveloped in the general chaos of a busy castle. He could see guards patrolling the walls, servants rushing here and there, and courtiers entering and exiting the castle itself.

Dismounting near the entrance leading into the large stone building that housed the stables, the mews and the kennels, Mortimer took his saddlebags down and passed his reins to a waiting groom. Then he turned and retraced his steps a short way, heading for the castle to find the Lady Liora and introduce himself.

Walking through the large double doors and into the palace was like walking into the eye of a storm. In contrast to the bustle outside, the foyer of Eryk’s palace was currently quiet and cool, being out of the strong summer sunlight. Mortimer let his eyes adjust to the slightly dim interior while he looked around and remembered his one and only visit to this place. He knew that there was a small meeting room just to his right and that the kitchens were farther down the right-hand corridor. Mortimer could see the large staircase in front of him leading upward, and there was a door almost directly across from him that stood open and revealed one of the public gardens.

May I help you, my Lord?

Mortimer turned at the sound of a quiet voice to see an older gentleman wearing the livery of a Bacovian servant. He had grey hair and a slightly stooped posture that betrayed his age, but the superior cut and fabric of his uniform led Mortimer to believe that this man was likely the palace chamberlain.

Yes, thank you. I’m looking for the Lady Liora, he replied. I’m the new Madelian ambassador.

Of course, my Lord. If you’ll just follow me, I can escort you to your suite. The Lady can meet you there.

The chamberlain sent a servant with a message for Liora and then led Mortimer up the stairs to the second floor of the castle. Turning to the left, the man led him to the fifth door, which he opened with a bow. Your suite, my Lord.

Mortimer walked into a very nice room, on par with what he’d become accustomed to back in Madelia. The outer area was set up as a meeting place, with a table and four chairs taking up the majority of the space. There was a pair of armchairs by the fireplace, and he could see the bedroom through the door at the back of the room.

Thanking the chamberlain, who bowed and left, Mortimer moved into the second room to explore further. He dropped his saddlebags onto the large, four-poster bed, and went to look out the window. The view was of the courtyard and he watched for a little while as everyone below him went about their daily business.

He was in the middle of unpacking his somewhat meagre belongings when there was a knock at the door. Hurrying to open it, Mortimer smoothed his light brown hair absentmindedly and plastered a smile on his face. He wanted to make a good first impression.

The woman standing in the hallway immediately put Mortimer at ease. She had straight, light brown hair and a smile that reached her lovely hazel eyes. She curtsied slightly and nodded her head in greeting, her eyes never leaving his. Welcome to Eaglecrest, my Lord, she said. I’m Liora, head of the diplomatic relations and your liaison here. May I come in?

Certainly, Mortimer replied, stepping aside so that she could brush past him and enter. Thank you for coming so quickly.

No trouble at all, she reassured him. Are you finding everything to your liking?

Definitely. I’m hoping that you can recommend a good tailor though, he admitted. I’m afraid that the majority of my wardrobe isn’t suitable for my current position.

Oh? Are you newly appointed as an ambassador? Liora inquired politely.

Yes, I am. His Majesty decided that I’d be a good fit here, so he reassigned me. I was formerly one of King Callum’s… advisors. Mortimer really wasn’t sure how to describe his position with Callum. ‘Employee’ didn’t seem appropriate, and ‘assassin’ would get him hanged before sundown. Not that he’d successfully killed for Callum, but still.

I see. Liora looked at him, her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she adjusted her appraisal of the newcomer. Well, there are certainly a number of tailors I can recommend to you, and I’m sure that one or more of them will meet your needs. Is there anything else you require?

I would like to meet with their Majesties at their earliest convenience, he confessed. I have a message from Madelia that I was asked to deliver as soon as possible.

I’ll see what I can arrange, Liora promised. Moving across the room to the table, she pulled open a previously unnoticed drawer and removed a sheet of paper and a pen. She quickly jotted down a few names and passed the list to Mortimer.

Here are a few of the tailors that we use regularly in the palace, she explained. While you contact them, I’ll speak with their Majesties and arrange a meeting. The midday meal will be served shortly in the dining hall, if you are hungry.

Thank you. Mortimer glanced down at the list of names. I can’t think of anything else right now, so I’ll wait for your message.

Liora curtsied again and left him to finish his unpacking, which didn’t take long. As Mortimer put the last of his clothing into the wardrobe, he silently missed his white robes, one of the trademarks of his station as a mage. Callum didn’t want him to reveal his magical gifts to anyone except Eryk and Aislynn, using that information as a gesture of good faith to hopefully lure the king and queen close enough, eventually, to strike. Mortimer sighed.

When he finally found his way to the dining hall for something to eat, Mortimer was pleasantly surprised to see that the midday meal was served as a buffet. One long table at one side of the room was laden with cooked meats, cheeses, breads and fruits. As he watched, a pair of gentlemen entered the room, picked up a plate, and helped themselves to the food. His stomach growling, Mortimer followed suit.

He picked a small table tucked away on the far side of the room, and sat down to enjoy his meal. He’d never been one to make friends quickly and was used to spending time alone, so Mortimer didn’t find his current situation particularly uncomfortable. He watched a few courtiers eating and chatting and made no move to introduce himself, figuring there’d be plenty of time to do that and start gathering names later. Callum hadn’t indicated that this job was temporary, after all, so Mortimer decided to take things slowly to avoid making any sort of major error while navigating the politics of a new court.

My Lord, their Majesties will see you now.

Mortimer looked over to see a pretty young woman dressed in livery standing at his table. She wore a dark grey skirt and white shirt with a red vest emblazoned with the eagle-in-flight royal crest, marking her as a palace servant. There was something unusual about her however, and Mortimer noticed that the room fell silent at her words. Looking around at his dining companions, the mage saw six pairs of eyes fixed on him and the servant.

Thank you, he said calmly, rising from his chair. What do I do with my dishes?

The young woman beside him laughed, her green eyes sparkling. You can either leave them here and someone will collect them for you, or you can place them on that table over there. She indicated a small table to the right of the door.

Since the second option was on his way out, Mortimer opted for that. As he walked away with the servant, whispers sprang up behind them. The young woman looked back over her shoulder with a scowl.

Is something wrong? he inquired.

No, she said, a shake of her head sending her brown braid swinging. "Never mind them. They’ll pounce on anything that they think is interesting, or could be made to be interesting."

Seeing Mortimer’s slightly puzzled expression, she sighed and paused. Turning back toward the room, the servant gestured to where a couple was sitting at a table in the middle of the space. Those two there in the middle of room are the biggest gossips in this place, she informed him. If you want a rumour spread, just tell one of them and it will be all over the castle before the next meal.

And what are they talking about now?

You, of course. They don’t recognize you, and since I’ve been sent to fetch you, they’ve concluded that you’re somebody important. I wouldn’t be surprised if they find their way to your table for dinner.

Mortimer vaguely remembered Cora, Callum’s current paramour and Mortimer’s former partner in crime, mentioning a Lise and Daniel and how she’d often used them to get the information they needed on his last visit to Eaglecrest. And you being the servant sent to get me is important how? he prompted.

The young woman paused again, this time at the base of the staircase, and turned to look at him with a smile. I’m Stephanie, she introduced herself. I’m the queen’s personal maidservant, and you are about to meet with their Majesties in the queen’s suite.

Ahhh...

Mortimer followed Stephanie in silence as she led him up the stairs and down the corridor into the royal wing of the palace. Their destination was marked clearly with a pair of guards standing on duty just outside of a plain oaken door. Both of the guards wore swords at their sides, one man obviously older than the other. Stephanie knocked, and when her arrival was acknowledged, she opened the door and gestured Mortimer inside.

Your Majesties, here is Lord Mortimer, the young woman said quietly before curtseying and leaving the room. Mortimer took a look around.

Immediately in front of him were a couch and a pair of chairs organized into a sitting area. There was a window behind the couch that looked out over one of the courtyards, and there was a door on either side of the room. He guessed that one led to the queen’s bed chamber, and the other likely led to the king’s rooms.

Mortimer walked forward a few steps and bowed deeply. Seated on the couch were the king and queen of Bacovia, and he took a deep breath. The king he’d seen before, when he’d sneaked into the kitchen to poison some sweets in one of the attempts on Aislynn’s life. This was the first time meeting the aforementioned queen, and she struck him as somebody to be wary of. He’d likely be afraid of her even if he didn’t know that she was an assassin.

Currently, the queen sat beside her husband looking like the expected picture of royalty, but closer examination showed that this Aislynn was just a facade. He noted the dagger on her belt, and he could just make out the hilt of a sword between her body and Eryk’s. The way her brown eyes looked him over was cold and calculating, as if assessing how much of a risk he was, and Mortimer barely suppressed a shiver. 

Greetings, your Majesties, he said from the bottom of his bow. I thank you for agreeing to meet with me so quickly. My king sent me with an important message.

And how is Callum? Eryk asked with a friendly smile. Mortimer wasn’t sure how much he could trust that friendly appearance, but it was obvious who was the more personable of the monarchs.

He’s doing well, your Majesty, thank you for asking. There was little dissent when he took the throne, and things have been peaceful so far.

Excellent. Now, what is this message you bring for us?

Again, Mortimer took a deep breath. My king was here just before you were wed, he began. He remembered the… troubles around the court at that time, which is why he selected me specifically for this assignment. In addition to having my king’s trust, I am also a mage, and his Majesty felt that you could both likely make use of my magical talents.

His revelation had Aislynn sitting up a little straighter, her eyes narrowed dangerously. She gestured with her hand, and Mortimer watched the wolf at her feet get up and walk toward him. He struggled not to flinch.

How tightly are you shielding, my Lord? the queen asked him in a falsely sweet voice as her wolf sniffed at his hand. Mortimer recognized that the creature was an eesprid , and he wondered if the queen was also a mage.

Very, your Majesty. My king didn’t want me to accidentally reveal my powers to anyone before informing you both, so that you could decide how best to make use of my talents. If you’d like my gifts to remain a secret, they shall.

This is certainly interesting news, Eryk commented into the awkward silence that stretched between the mage and the assassin. Cheta moved away from Mortimer and sat down, looking at him. 

We will discuss this newest development and meet with you again, the king said. Thank you.

Mortimer bowed once more, and with another sidelong glance at the wolf, he fled the queen’s suite. The very air in that room was… hostile and he didn’t like it one bit. He wondered what he should tell Callum when he checked in later tonight.

~  ~  ~  ~

Aislynn turned to look at Eryk as the door shut behind the young ambassador. The young mage , she silently corrected herself. So what do you make of him?

I’m not sure, Eryk admitted. I think that Callum has either sent us a very powerful ally, or he’s just planted a spy in my court. But if he wanted to use the ambassador as a spy, why tell us about his powers? Cheta didn’t even notice him.

Eryk was used to his wife’s eesprid detecting the magical potential in others, like his cousin, Davin, his page, Connor, and Aislynn’s maidservant. The fact that Mortimer could shield tightly enough that the wolf didn’t detect him worried the king. "How are we supposed to protect ourselves from hidden mages?"

I’m really not sure, Aislynn admitted. And I hope that the mages my father is sending have some ideas.

Chapter 4

Byron whirled around, narrowly avoiding the queen’s sword as it darted toward his chest. He brought his own blade up as he moved, and was rewarded with the clang of metal on metal as he successfully blocked Aislynn’s dagger, which was heading for his side. After a year of practicing together nearly every day, the captain of the guard was quite familiar with the assassin’s tricks, including that nasty little dagger she often fought with. Repositioning himself facing his opponent, Byron took a deep breath and looked at her.

You’re getting faster, the queen said with a smile for her friend. She brushed her long brown braid back over her shoulder. Not long ago, I would have caught you with the second blade.

"Good thing I’m improving then, isn’t it? Are you actually trying to kill me?"

Of course not! If you hadn’t parried, I would have pulled the strike. Probably.

Probably, he repeated, launching himself forward, sword poised to strike. That’s good to know.

Byron was used to losing when he sparred with Aislynn — her level of weapon expertise was simply higher than his — but he took pride in the fact that he made her work for her victories. If she was going to be nasty… well, he could play that way too.

The long sword in his right hand flashed straight forward, intending to stab Aislynn through the midriff. At the same time, he swung his left arm forward and out, catching the queen’s sword arm and forcing it away from him. Aislynn twisted to avoid the sword, but having her sword arm forced out and away from her body made the movement a little awkward. To compensate, Aislynn bent her right knee, most of her weight resting there. Byron kicked out at her supporting leg, and she went down.

With a laugh, Aislynn rolled as she fell. You’re stealing my tricks, she protested. "Do you really want to continue like this?"

You’re the one who started it, the captain reminded her, his answering smile making his blue eyes sparkle. 

Aislynn didn’t answer. Instead she moved her body as Byron took a step forward. With a quick movement, she hooked her right foot around his ankle and yanked, pulling him down to the ground. Byron fell with a startled yelp and Aislynn rolled out of the way and back up onto her feet. As she turned, levelling her sword, Byron brought his own sword up to meet hers, the blades clashing once more.

The queen struck again, sword darting toward the captain’s head. He managed to get his blade into position to parry, but that left the majority of his prone body undefended, and Aislynn aimed a kick at his ribs. Though she only connected lightly, the implication that she could have cracked ribs was there, and Byron rolled away from her, risking a slice from her sword.

Laughing and thoroughly enjoying herself, Aislynn pursued her friend across the barracks’ courtyard, determined to make him work to regain his footing. Finally she relented, and Byron stood. That was mean, he commented.

And?

With a growl, only partially in jest, Byron drove forward toward her again. He slashed at Aislynn with his sword, and as soon as she parried, he reversed direction and came at her again. Three times he attacked her, blow following immediately after blow, and then Byron stabbed straight toward her. Aislynn twisted aside nimbly only to let out a squeal of pain and clutch at her side, dagger clattering to the ground.

What’s wrong? Byron demanded, all thoughts of sparring and getting even with her forgotten. I didn’t hit you, did I?

Aislynn shook her head, sucking a breath in between her teeth and exhaling slowly. Still clutching her side, she straightened her torso, moving carefully. I think it’s just a cramp.

After a few moments, the pain passed and Aislynn bent down to retrieve her dagger. Seeing Byron’s look of concern, she shrugged. I have no idea what that was, she admitted, but I’m fine now. Want to go again?

Byron didn’t look convinced, but he nodded his head anyway. They still had a little time before they needed to go and start their day. He waited for Aislynn to begin this round and she didn’t disappoint, leading with her dagger. He hated it when she did that, forcing him to either move or parry the blade. Either way, she usually managed to bring her sword to bear before he could compensate, and sometimes he wished he was more proficient fighting with two weapons.

Byron decided to try something a little different. Instead of just blocking the weapon, he took a step to the right at the same time. This forced Aislynn to twist her body when she brought her sword around to attack him, and again, she doubled over in pain.

"Okay, you are not fine, he insisted, sheathing his sword quickly and taking her weapons from her. Aislynn immediately shifted both of her hands to her left side. Let me take you to a healer."

No!

Byron looked startled, and Aislynn met his eyes. I’m fine, really, she insisted as she straightened. It’s just a pulled muscle or something. We’ll finish for today, I’ll take it easy, and I’ll be fine by tomorrow. Eryk has enough on his plate without worrying about me needlessly.

He knew that she wasn’t overestimating the king’s concern for her well-being. Byron had seen how protective Eryk was of his wife, and he knew that she was right. If they went to the healers, Eryk would just start to worry. With the attack on Davin still weighing on everyone’s mind, along with all of the day-to-day work of running the kingdom, the king had other things to deal with.

Promise me that you’ll see Michael if this isn’t better by tomorrow, he insisted, a compromise the best he was willing to do.

Deal. Aislynn straightened fully and retrieved her weapons from the captain. I’m fine though. Honest.

As the pair left the courtyard, Cheta joined them. The wolf had been lying in the shadow of the door, a usual spot for her. Byron guessed that the eesprid liked it there because she was out of the way but could still protect Aislynn from anybody who tried to enter. Just outside of the courtyard was a guard, waiting for the queen.

Good morning, Ray, Aislynn greeted the man. You’ve got the short straw today?

Looks that way, your Majesty, the man agreed. Ray was one of older guards under Byron’s command, with greying blond hair and a ready smile. He’d acted as Aislynn’s bodyguard a number of times in the past, and was now sharing the duty with his partner, Stephan, and Amanda.

Aislynn and Byron parted ways, and the queen made her way up to her suite. The pair entered the rooms, Ray taking up a position just inside the door. The assassin noticed immediately that the door connecting her suite to Eryk’s was open, and she sent her awareness down the magical link she had with him; the king was in his study, working already. His emotions were calm though, so she knew she didn’t have to hurry.

Aislynn made her way into her bedchamber to change into a dress for the day, stripping out of her pants and blouse and letting them fall to the floor. Her maidservant, Stephanie, was busy sorting through Aislynn’s wardrobe, looking at and then discarding dress after dress.

Is there something going on today that I should know about? the queen asked, curious about the care the young woman was taking selecting her clothing for the day.

I’m not sure, Stephanie admitted, but I think so. 

They had discovered that the maidservant occasionally had ‘feelings’ about events that were going to happen. Aislynn wondered if she was magically gifted, and looked forward to sending her to the mages to find out. Once the mages from Evendell arrived, that is.

Stephanie finally selected a red dress that Aislynn particularly liked. It was loose and sat low on her shoulders, with a black corset-like garment worn over top. The corset was tied with red laces that matched the dress, and the queen quickly washed the sweat from her skin and slipped into her clothing.

As Aislynn laced the corset tightly, accentuating her trim figure, Stephanie passed the queen her sword belt. The scabbards for the blades were black leather with vines tooled into the material as decoration. Both weapons had silver wire entwining the hilts and making cages that held diamonds in the pommels. These were Eryk’s engagement and wedding gifts, and Aislynn was rarely without them.

The maidservant quickly ran a brush through Aislynn’s hair, loosening the waves made from the braid she’d worn for her morning exercises, and Aislynn fastened a ruby pendant around her neck, the jewel coming to rest just above the neckline of the dress. Stephanie pronounced her mistress fit for public viewing, and Aislynn left the suite to break her fast, her guard and wolf in tow.

She decided to take the back stairs down to the main floor, exiting from the stairwell not far from the door to Eryk’s study. She could see Mateo already on duty outside of the door, and wondered to herself if the man ever really slept. While Aislynn had three guards who shared duties watching over her, Mateo was the only guardsman currently assigned to Eryk, staying with him for the entire day, no matter how long it was. Granted, Aislynn was also Eryk’s bodyguard, but still…

The queen didn’t bother knocking on the door, opening it and walking straight in to find her husband hard at work. His head was bent over whatever he was reading, black hair falling forward to cast deep shadows across his handsome face. Aislynn smiled, amazed by the transformation the young king had undergone in the past year. When she’d first arrived here, Eryk had been a spoiled prince interested only in avoiding his royal responsibilities. Now, Eryk often became tied up in his work and needed to be reminded to eat. She thought that perhaps it was time for an outing into the countryside, to give him a break. It had been awhile since they’d gone hunting.

Good morning, Aislynn said softly into the silence of the room.

Eryk looked up from his desk with a smile. Rising, he walked over to her and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Is it breakfast time already?

It is. How long have you been here?

The king smiled again. I was up not long after you left the bed, he explained. So I guess I’ve been here for about as long as you were practicing with Byron.

Then it is certainly time for a break. Aislynn took Eryk’s hand and drew him from the room, their guards falling in behind them and Cheta leading the way.

I was thinking, Aislynn said as they walked. After the Midsummer council meeting, we should take a day and go hunting. It’s been a long time since you were out of the castle.

"And even longer since you were out of the castle, Eryk added. He and Branden had gone hunting for the wedding dinner about six weeks ago, but Aislynn had been confined to the castle grounds for her own safety by that point in time. I think that a hunt sounds like a wonderful idea."

Excellent! We can start making the arrangements this afternoon.

Eryk looked puzzled for a moment, trying to remember why they couldn’t do that after breakfast. Ah, yes, he said finally, you have to finish the party preparations.

Midsummer was only a few days away. Aislynn’s goal was to host a ball at each of the four seasonal celebrations, and had begun with Midwinter nearly six months ago. With the craziness that had surrounded their wedding she’d missed the Spring Equinox, so this was her first party in half a year, and her first party as queen. Aislynn wanted to make sure everything was organized and ready herself, which seemed to have taken up a lot of her time in this past week leading up to the day itself.

Exactly, Aislynn confirmed. I’ll be free this afternoon, though. I can also help you and Branden get ready for the court session. 

Eryk grimaced. Court sessions were one of his duties that he truly despised, and he had to hold court every six weeks or so. Aislynn generally organized the petitions for the sessions, while he and Branden researched and reviewed any previous cases that may have bearing. It was boring and time consuming work, and then the sessions themselves were just as bad.

As the couple turned into the dining hall, Aislynn noticed a familiar, but unexpected, face at the head table talking with Branden. She called out his name in greeting, and the man looked up, his messy brown hair flopping down across his eyes briefly before he brushed it away irritably.

You need a haircut, Petyr, the queen chided with a gentle smile. How can you possibly see with that mop constantly falling in your eyes?

" Now I can get it cut, he informed her gravely. It just wouldn’t be the same if I didn’t get to hear your reminders when I arrived, your Majesty. And how have you been?"

Petyr was the commander-in-chief of Bacovia’s army, and since the end of the most recent conflict with Madelia, he’d spent the majority of his time overseeing the construction of the new army fortresses along that border. Following the conflict, Eryk wanted walls and towers built along the frontier, and Petyr chose to live at the largest tower, the one straddling the main road from Madelia, with his men. He usually only made it to Eaglecrest for the large parties and the subsequent council sessions.

I’ve been good, Aislynn answered. You were here for the wedding… How can your hair possibly have grown so much in six weeks or so?

Leave him alone, Aislynn, Eryk scolded gently, guiding her over to her chair at one end of the table. After tucking her chair in for her, he made his way to the opposite end and sat down next to Branden.

Fine, if you say so, she conceded. Where’s Marja, Branden?

Branden smiled. She’s at home, hopefully sleeping. Tabitha had a rough night, so Marja didn’t get much sleep.

Isn’t that what nursemaids are for? Eryk asked.

Usually, Branden agreed, but Marja has this strange idea that having a nursemaid would make her less of a mother to the baby. He shook his head, obviously not understanding his wife’s point-of-view.

Let her have her time with the baby, Aislynn interjected. She’s always wanted to be a mother, so I’d let her have her sleepless nights, if that’s what makes her happy.

The meal arrived, and talk turned to Petyr’s garrison and news from the border. Petyr was happy to report that the building projects continued to go well, and that everything remained quiet. All of the towers were built, and the walls were progressing. The men discussed the possibility of there actually being peace with Madelia while Aislynn listened and pushed her food around with her fork.

Is there something wrong? Byron was sitting beside her on the left and noticed her essentially playing with her food.

I’m not terribly hungry, Aislynn replied. Does everything taste alright to you?

Everything’s fine, he replied, puzzled. Why? Is there something wrong with your food?

Aislynn just shrugged, but reassured him that she was sure it was fine. After a poisoning a little while prior her wedding, the way meals were served had changed at the palace. She knew that her food, and Eryk’s, came from a common dish, and if everyone else’s was fine, the problem was with her, not the food.

The meal was just finishing, Branden and Eryk preparing to head to the study to begin their work for the upcoming session of court, when a servant came walking quickly across the room.

Sorry to disturb your meal, your Majesties, the man said, bowing. There’s a carriage just pulling into the courtyard. It’s bearing Evendell’s arms.

Looks like our mages are finally here, Eryk pronounced happily. Let’s go and meet them, shall we?

Chapter 5

Chelle stepped down from the carriage, the last of the mages to descend to the courtyard stones. She placed her hands on her waist and bent backward, trying to stretch the muscles in her back. Her four companions stretched