Lords of Illusion

By Guy Estes

Everyone thought the enemy was exterminated decades ago. Everyone was wrong.

Aleena, a talented warrior, and Baezha, a powerful sorceress, weren’t looking for any trouble, but it found them anyway. A royal family becomes a target—the Shrouded Masks, able to take the form of any they choose, look to assassinate the royal family and sow distrust. And the women have only a few days to stop them.

But the king holds secrets, and the Shrouded Masks have a darker purpose than blood vengeance—a plot which could unmake reality itself. Can Aleena and Baezha save those trapped in the palace in time?

Though listed as book 4 in the series, this is a stand-alone novel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Guy Estes
• Release date: Dec 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005826567

Guy Estes

Guy Estes was born in Huntsville, Alabama in 1970 and grew up on his family's ancestral home in New Iberia, Louisiana, where he currently resides with his family. His grandchildren are the eighth generation of his family to grow up on the place, which was occupied by Union troops during the Civil War. He has a BA in social studies education and an MA in European history. His day job is an instructor at a small safety consultation company. He taught public school for three years and, as a result, no longer fears hell.

Book preview

LORDS OF ILLUSION

Book 4 of Sisters of the Storm

By Guy Estes

They didn't bother to find out who and what I was. Instead they would invent a character for me. I wouldn't argue with them. They were obviously loving somebody I wasn't. – Marilyn Monroe

Any girl can be glamorous. All you have to do is stand still and look stupid. – Hedy Lamarr

Do not pray to me for strength, for I have already given it to you, though I would be happy to teach you how to use it. – Nevawn the Death Breeder, Dark Goddess of battle

Chapter 1

Following proper application of a battle axe, one generally doesn’t need to go around checking for survivors.

I told you, Aleena said to the magistrate, I have no idea who these people are. I’ve never seen any of them before.

A dead man lay a few feet away, his chest shorn through. Her double-bladed axe, big and black, was next to him, where she’d put it down when the constables arrived. Five more corpses adorned the side street. Baezha, her adoptive sister, was with her. The captain of the constabulary was next to the magistrate while several constables stood around.

We were returning to our inn when these men set upon us, Baezha told them.

Why? the captain demanded.

I’ve no idea. They never demanded our purses. They said not a word. They simply attacked.

And you defended yourself.

Of course.

Quite vigorously, it would seem, the magistrate said. That man is a charred corpse.

I’m a sorceress, Baezha told him, not for the first time.

These men were not simple thugs. They were professional assassins. The captain crouched next to one and pulled his shirt collar open, revealing a tattoo of a black snake on his chest. Members of the Serpents of the Void, one of the deadliest assassin sects in this region.

He looked at the sisters. They looked back and said nothing.

You’re telling me, the captain finally said to both of them as he rose, that six men, all of whom were top tier assassins, randomly attacked two women, and not only did the two women slay all six assassins, they did so without even being wounded?

Yes, Aleena said. My sister and I are Chosen. I am gifted in war and she is gifted in magic.

Three men were dead by sorcery while three more were dead by axe. The constables, captain, and magistrate looked around at the carnage.

Where were you returning from?

The library.

Of course, the captain said. What could be more innocent than two good girls going to the library? And why would such an inoffensive lass like yourself feel the need to go to a library with a battle axe strapped to her back?

Both women wore shirts and trousers, but Aleena had the sheath for her axe strapped to her back. She drew a sigh as she reined in her frustration.

I’m a professional warrior, Aleena said, I’m always armed.

You need only send one of your men to the library to ask about us, Baezha said.

The captain nodded at a man and he hurried off.

You are not citizens of Bukahr, correct? the captain asked.

Correct.

What is your business here?

Research, Baezha said. That’s why we were at the library.

That explains you, the captain told her, then turned to Aleena, but what could a professional warrior possibly be researching at the library?

History, Aleena said. That’s what I was educated in.

So where are you from?

The town of Sharleah, Kerdonia Province.

That’s in the Artisan League, the magistrate said.

It is, Aleena replied. My parents are members in good standing in their respective guilds.

And those are? the captain asked.

My father, Ivarr, is a blacksmith. My mother, Ilian, is a weaver.

What of you? he asked Baezha.

They adopted me. My birth parents died ten years ago.

They went quiet as the magistrate mulled things over. The captain continued giving them a suspicious stare.

Well, the magistrate finally said, it appears that these men set upon these women and they successfully defended themselves, but why the Serpents of the Void would choose two random women as victims remains a mystery.

They wouldn’t, the captain said, glaring at the two women. Assassins don’t go about randomly killing people, especially if they’re members of one of the most feared sects. They have specific targets and a specific purpose.

And a specific employer, Aleena added. We’ve never seen these men, but in our careers we have angered a number of people. Perhaps they sent them. We are here only for the library.

A few minutes later the constable came back with a librarian, who stared at the bodies in horror.

Good gods… what in the world…

These two women claim they were in the library today, the captain said to the librarian.

What? the librarian said, the captain’s demand snapping him out of his mortification. Oh… well, yes, they were.

How long?

All day. They only left a short while ago.

Were they a problem?

Not a bit.

Very well, the magistrate said. You may go.

The librarian left and the magistrate gazed over the carnage as he thought things over.

I say we take them in, the captain said. "I don’t know what’s going on here, but something is bloody well going on. The Serpents of the Void target two random women, and those two women vanquished the assassins without receiving a scratch? No, magistrate, I tell you there is something much more to this, and we need to know what it is."

We have told you all we know, Aleena said.

The magistrate remained silent.

Are we under arrest? Baezha asked.

No, the magistrate said after several moments of consideration.

My lord magistrate, are you daft? the captain protested.

The magistrate turned to look at him

Are you, to so address a superior? Given the evidence we have so far, Captain, they’ve broken no law. But, he said, returning his attention to the sisters, don’t leave the city. This matter is still under investigation.

Aleena and Baezha resumed their journey back to their inn.

That captain was right, though, Aleena said once they were away from the authorities. The Serpents of the Void are considered to be one of the most elite sects of assassins.

Who attacked us on sight, Baezha said.

Which assassins don’t do unless they’re on a job.

We’ve offended no one here.

That we know of. We do have a talent for collecting enemies. The Serpents of the Void do not go around randomly targeting people any more than we do. Like us, they need a reason. Either we’ve drawn their ire or the ire of someone who can afford their services. At any rate, simply coming here and using the library has gotten a death mark placed on us.

And we’ve no idea by whom, or why.

* * *

The child would be dead within minutes. The assassin fought down the urge to finish the job. He’d succeeded so far because he’d waited through half-chances and pseudo opportunities that most other assassins would have taken. No, he would not strike until he was sure his strike would be true. Anything else would be a waste of his talent.

The palace was settling down for the night. His target was in bed, her various servants finishing their duties and leaving the room, one by one. He knew because he watched from the bottom of the staircase, checking each servant off from his mental list. When the last one came down the stairs, he started going up, making sure to look her in the face and give her a familiar nod. He did not fear recognition. Indeed, he was depending on it. Timing was also crucial. If his colleague were to assassinate the other target, they would have to strike within a few moments of each other. If one of them struck too soon the hue and cry would alert the palace.

He reached the next floor and moved easily to the child’s bedroom door. He’d learned as an apprentice not to move furtively. The key to blending in was to act as if he belonged, as if walking to the child’s room was something he did regularly. He did, however, glance around with the ease and familiarity of one who was exactly where he belonged and was doing exactly what he was supposed to. He wanted to know if there was anyone in the immediate vicinity. The only people there were the four guards, one posted outside of each child’s bedchamber. The bedchamber doors occupied two sides of a square. The royal bedchamber and a guest room for royal guests occupied the other two sides. The stairs came up through the center of that square.

Sergeant Connor summoned all of you, he told the nearest guard. It’s all right. I’ll keep watch until you return.

The guard nodded. After all, this was Wik, the major domo. An order from the major domo was almost as good as an order from the king himself. He signaled the others and they walked away and down the stairs.

The assassin opened the door and went in, closing it behind him. His target was a seven-year-old girl. She lay on white sheets, her rich brown hair twisted into a braid. She was not asleep. She looked at him with huge brown eyes.

Wik, she said. What are you doing here?

He looked at her, his face expressionless. Neither her age nor her sex nor her very humanity meant anything to him. All he saw when he looked at her was an insect to be crushed. She sat up, her mouth opening. Child though she was, his presence here at this hour as well as his stony face and silence alerted her that something was amiss. He stopped right next to her bed, tall and rawboned, staring down at her with hazel eyes. His long, straight dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, bringing his boney face into greater prominence. Then he grabbed one of the many pillows on her bed and pressed it into her face, shoving her back down onto the bed. She struggled and kicked, her screams muffled, but the little girl stood no chance against a master assassin. Her struggles were weakening when he heard the door open. He spun, but even as he did so he heard the boots running towards him.

Wik! the guard exclaimed as he pulled to a surprised stop, his mouth open in shock and his blue eyes went wide as he recognized the major domo. Then his eyes narrowed as he tightened his grip on his pole axe. You’re not Wik.

The guard thrust the pole axe’s spike at Wik, but Wik, holding the pillow in both hands, used it to pad his hands as he shoved it aside. But this was no bumbling guard. He smoothly slipped back out of range of the assassin’s kick and brought the butt end of the haft around into Wik’s belly, followed by jabbing it into his ribs. Wik doubled over, one of his ribs snapped in two. The guard’s strikes had placed the nasty end of the pole axe cocked over his shoulder. He brought the axe blade down into the back of Wik’s skull. The assassin dropped to the floor, his blood spreading over the smooth, blue-grey stones like wine. The guard fell into a defensive stance and scanned the rest of the room for threats. There were none. The little girl stared at him.

Princess Ybella! the guard said, seating himself on the edge of her bed and placing himself so she could not see the corpse on her floor. He reached for the rope hanging by her head board and gave it several violent jerks. The bells for summoning the servants jangled.

Connor? she said, uncertain, her face red from near suffocation. She recognized the man as a guard sergeant, his dark hair, blue eyes like chips of ice, but she’d also recognized Wik, and that certainly hadn’t turned out well.

Aye, Highness, ‘tis I. All is well. He won’t hurt you anymore.

She moved to look.

No, Highness, he told her, gently placing her head on his chest. She felt the links of his mail armor under his tabard. What an axe does to a man’s head is not for a child’s eyes.

He shook his head.

Gods damn it, I should’ve taken him alive!

The servants burst in, for the summoning bells had rung with considerably greater vigor than the little girl typically gave them. The crowded in, their faces going pale. Some pressed hands to their mouths.

Alert the guards! Connor ordered. No one enters or leaves the palace! And get guards to the other children and the king and queen immediately. Get the king here, and Wik and Captain Lenrick.

They hurried off to obey, though two stayed. They tried to see about the princess, but they could not pry her off of Connor. They froze when they recognized Wik.

Sergeant Connor, one of them said, hesitant, Wik’s right there.

She pointed at the body.

The major domo tried to assassinate the princess, the other said in a shocked whisper.

Don’t be a fool, Connor snapped. That’s not Wik. He would never harm the princess.

Even as they watched, the dead man changed. His features seemed to soften and shift, like cheese melting in an oven, oozing, flowing, and distorting until they resolved themselves into the face of a stranger.

What in the seven hells… he whispered through lips curled in revulsion. He looked at the two remaining servants, both of them middle-aged women.

Ybella! a man called from outside the room. King Doran burst through the door. Ybella!

Papa!

Continuing to shield her from the sight of the dead man, Connor took her to her father. She was crying now. He took her in his arms and patted her head while shushing her.

Sergeant Connor, he said, his voice quiet with tension, find out what’s become of my other children.

Connor bowed, picked up his pole axe and jogged out of the room. King Doran sat down with his youngest daughter still clasped to him. He looked at the dead assassin. His stomach turned and his head swam, the combined result of seeing a human skull split open and not knowing the fates of his other children.

* * *

Guards rushed to the commotion, all except two. They stood before a door, unmoving, but they cast doubtful glances at each other. Other palace staff scurried about, not knowing what to do. Two men dressed as servants quietly observed all of this.

Either our brothers have succeeded and escaped, one said quietly.

Or they have failed and are dead, or soon will be, the other responded.

Either way, we must now go forward with our part.

They rushed to the two guards posted before the door.

There’s been an attempt on the prince and princess! one said to them.

Sergeant Connor calls for aid! the other added. Hurry!

The guards hurried off. The men looked around; no one was paying them any mind. They went through the now unguarded door. They entered a dark spiral stairwell and descended to the next level. They went through another door and emerged into the dungeon. There were only a few guards about, as there were hardly any prisoners to guard.

Someone tried to murder the princess! they cried, hysterical. Captain Lenrik has demanded everyone go to her room now! Go!

The guards scrambled through the door the two men just came through and hurried off to the princess’ room… all but two standing before another door.

Our orders are to never move from this door until relieved, one of the guards told them.

We know, one of the men said.

You’re relieved, said the other as he hurled a small bag at them. The guards readied their weapons as the bag struck the wall next to them and burst. Yellow dust exploded from it and enveloped the guards in a saffron cloud. The two men had scuttled back and covered their mouths and noses with their shirts. The guards coughed a few times, then fell to the floor. The two men waited for the yellow cloud to dissipate, then went to the guards. Both were dead. The men dragged them through the doors they guarded, down more stairs until they descended two levels below the dungeon and found an alcove to hide the guards. Then they stripped the guards down to their skins. Studying them, the men’s forms shifted, like melting wax, then reformed themselves. They were the exact likeness of the guards. Donning the guards’ clothes and armor, they went back up the stairs. They went through a door, emerging on the level below the dungeon. They were in a hall. The wall across from them was completely blank.

They’re certain the crystals are beyond that wall? one asked.

Yes.

Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get them.

We don’t yet know where the vertices are, and if we take them and the royals find them missing, it will alert them. Our orders are to pose as guards until our masters know where the vertices are.

They returned to the dungeon and assumed their posts.

* * *

Connor finally came trotting back into the room. His pole axe was stained with more blood than it had been when he’d left.

Your children are well, Sire, Connor said. Prince Kerwin was struggling with his assassin when I came in. I tried to take the man alive, but he bled out before a healer could get there. No one has made any attempts on Princess Jarella or Prince Jerard. If any were going to, I doubt they’ll try tonight, not with the palace on full alert.

You’ve saved two of my children this night, Sergeant Connor, Doran said after a pause. He had flaxen hair and marble blue eyes. He looked Connor in the eye. I’ll not forget it.

I was fulfilling my duties, Sire, nothing more.

How is it you came to Ybella’s room?

I make it a point to check on the guards before I turn in. There were no guards posted outside the children’s rooms, so I investigated. Ybella’s room just happened to be the first one I checked.

Thank all the gods you did. Are all the children well-guarded?

There are many guards, Your Majesty. Whether they are well guarded is difficult to say.

King Doran regarded Connor with narrowed eyes.

Are you saying the guards can’t be trusted? Do you suspect a traitor among us?

Sire, when I came in here I saw Wik murdering the princess. He was holding a pillow over her face.

Doran looked at the body, then back at Connor.

But that… he snapped a quick look again. That’s not Wik.

No, Sire, but it was when I came in. It was his very likeness in every way, but shortly after I slew him he… changed. His face shifted, melted, reformed. The same thing happened with Prince Kerwin’s would-be assassin. He looked exactly like her, he said, gesturing at one of the servants in the room, whose face blanched as her mouth fell open. But soon after he fell, he changed into a completely different person, from woman to man.

Doran paused, giving Connor a speculative look.

He speaks the truth, Sire, another servant spoke up. I saw the one what looked like Wik change after he died.

Lenrick, captain of the palace guard, stormed in.

Gods damn it, Sergeant, how in the seven hells did you allow this to happen? You know damn well the children are to be guarded, so where were the guards? Did you not post them?

Your Majesty, Wik said as he came in, followed by the servant who fetched him. What madness is this? I have this woman coming to me telling me I tried to murder Princess Ybella, the whole palace is in an uproar –

King Doran held up a hand to silence his major domo and the captain. Queen Duvessa came in right behind Wik and Lenrik and took Ybella from Doran.

There is great treachery afoot tonight. Sergeant, tell them what happened.

Connor did.

And you can imagine how strange it is to now have a conversation with a man I just slew, said with a dry finish. Doran sighed and rubbed his face.

Doppelgangers. Assassin’s with perfect disguises. How are we to counter that?

If I’d gotten one alive we might be able to say, Connor said in a frustrated growl.

And you will be properly reprimanded for that, Lenrick assured him.

You’ll do nothing of the sort, Captain. Better them dead than my children. The king’s face was haggard and his eyes were still bright with the terror of a man who’d come within a whisker of experiencing every parent’s worst nightmare. Sergeant, don’t chide yourself for not having perfect foresight.

If Captain Lenrik and Sergeant Connor have no objections, Wik said after some thought, I suggest getting outside help?

Connor was nodding as Wik was speaking.

I was thinking the same thing. Someone not of the palace, preferably someone not of this kingdom.

Nonsense, Lenrick snapped. We don’t need any outsiders coming in here, sticking their noses into royal business.

Have you any idea where to start looking? King Doran asked.

No, Connor said.

Actually, Wik said as he stroked his chin, I believe I saw someone earlier today who might be able to help.

Chapter 2

The kingdom of Bukahr, on the western side of the Ophirees Mountains, was renowned for several things. One of them was its library, which is why Aleena Kurrin and Baezha Ambrose made the journey there from their home in the Artisan League on the eastern side of the mountains. They spent most of yesterday there, and they anticipated spending much of it there again today.

Ah, Mistress Kurrin, Mistress Ambrose, the librarian greeted them as they entered. He was an older man, thin and graceful, clad in a simple white robe.

Good morning, Mendle, Baezha said. They were in the huge circular lobby in the center of the four story building. Corridors lined with full bookshelves and cubbies radiated from it like spokes.

The adjunct librarian told me of that dreadful business last evening. I am so sorry you were attacked, but I am pleased to see you both well.

Thank you, Baezha said. We have no idea why they attacked us.

Who can fathom a feral mind? But enough about that. Where would you like to start your search today?

I need to look through some genealogies, Aleena said.

While I must peruse the writings of some of these sorcerers, Baezha said, handing him a list. He studied it.

Hmm… these are indeed obscure references, he said regarding Baezha’s list of names. You’ll likely find most of these only at the Thaelien Library. I have one for certain, perhaps another, but I’m afraid that is the best we can do.

Quite all right.

Both sections you need are adjacent to each other. One of my neophytes will show you the way.

He turned to a boy of perhaps thirteen wearing a drab grey tunic and trousers and gestured to the two women. The boy stumbled forward, staring at the sisters, Adam’s apple bobbing.

You know where to take these two ladies, Philbert? Mendle asked, intruding on his bliss.

What? the boy said, his attention snapping back to Mendle. Oh, yes. Yes.

Then kindly do so, and give them whatever assistance they require.

Come this way, Philbert said as he led them down a hall lined with wall brackets containing light stones, enchanted stones that lit when rubbed and were extinguished the same way.

He cast shy glances and hesitant smiles back at them as they traversed the hall; it was not difficult to understand why. Each woman was in her late twenties and stood an even six feet, their figures a superb balance between athletic power and feminine curves. Indeed, according to the artists’ guild, their proportions were perfect. Aleena was crowned with honey blonde tresses, and her large eyes were the color of storm clouds. She wore a white blousy shirt and black bodice with dark blue trousers and her axe strapped to her back so she could reach up behind her shoulder to grab the haft and draw it. Baezha’s hair was a curtain of sable, her eyes polished obsidian. She wore a red shirt with a black bodice and black trousers, and today she had her black longsword slung across her back.

Philbert led them through a couple of turns and ended in a room that, like all the others, was lined with bookcases tall and full, dimly lit by a few light stones. He lit some more, providing ample reading light.

Mistress Ambrose, the books you’re looking for will be over there, he said, pointing to the right side of the room. Mistress Kurrin, I’ll take you to the genealogy sources.

He gave her a hesitant smile, then looked away and started walking. Aleena followed. They traveled a good forty or fifty feet before coming to a stop.

Here we are, he said, gesturing at a large collection of cubbies holding scrolls. There was also a big lectern holding a massive book.

Thank you, Philbert.

She began searching the scrolls while Philbert stood off to the side. After a few moments, he spoke.

Mistress Kurrin, he said in a hesitant voice, what are you researching?

She turned to look at him. He licked his lips.

It’s just that we don’t get many warriors in a library.

History is one of my passions, and I’ve been thoroughly educated in it. I’m researching the origins of the Chosen and the nature of our gifts.

The Chosen were people born extraordinarily gifted and graced with perfect, incorruptible beauty. They were also vanishingly rare. Aleena and Baezha were the only two in existence, and for more than one to be living at the same time was almost unheard of. It was believed the gods chose to grace them with beauty and talent, but no one knew why. Aleena meant to answer that question. She started researching the genealogies of known Chosen to see if she could discern some sort of pattern.

She also wanted to learn the nature of their gifts. The Chosen had two gifts, major and minor. Their major gifts came to them as naturally as breathing. For Aleena this was the warrior arts, while for Baezha it was magic. Their minor gifts were things they had a strong talent for but needed instruction to realize their full potential. For Aleena this was the bardic arts – singing, story crafting, and music – while for Baezha it was the warrior arts.

I heard the Chosen were the offspring of elves mating with humans, Philbert said.

I’ve heard that, too, and it’s a lot of poppycock. Neither Baezha nor I have any elves in our family histories. Besides that, elves find mating with humans as repulsive as humans find mating with monkeys. No, it’s definitely something else. I’m looking into the family histories of known Chosen to see if there is anything they have in common, any pattern.

Their major gifts are said to be like their beauty – perfection.

That is what they say, but I’ve noticed something different.

Oh?

My major gift is the warrior arts. I’ve noticed that every time I return from a job, I’m a bit stronger, my reflexes a bit faster. I have more stamina. When Baezha and I returned from our first quest, I could lift thirty stone. By the time we finished our business in Oleppo, I could lift thirty-five. That is right at the upper limit for a woman of my size. After our return from the Shingora, I could lift thirty-eight.

Aleena stopped, considering that. It always amazed her when she thought about it; thirty-eight stone, three hundred eighty pounds. Aleena weighed fifteen stone. There was no way a woman who weighed one hundred fifty pounds should be able to dead lift three hundred eighty under her own power, yet she could do so regularly. By her reckoning, she should be at least five stone heavier to do that. If she was getting stronger, she should also be getting more muscle and therefore getting bigger, heavier, but she wasn’t. Her weight and measurements remained unchanged. Baezha was the exact same size and also quite athletic, yet her performance was in line with a woman her size. The most she could lift was half of what Aleena could. She went on.

Baezha’s major gift is magic. With each passing job, she commands greater magical power. I’ve known her for six years, and in that time I’ve seen her power grow exponentially, to the point that I think she’s just a bit frightened by what she can do. When we were in Oleppo she faced the governing sorcerers of the Order of Entropy, each of them a match for her. She single-handedly wiped them out, and her power has grown still more since then. And with each passing job, people tell us we’ve gotten more beautiful, but we can see no change. Our hair, eyes, complexion, measurements, none of those change, and yet everyone we meet, people we see every day, insist we’re more beautiful than we were before.

But if your gifts and beauty are perfection, how can they be improved?

The obvious explanation is that they aren’t perfection. Given how little is known about the Chosen, it’s safe to wager much of what we think we know is probably wrong.

Aleena heard a small chime. She looked and saw Philbert holding a small crystal. The crystal chimed again and lit up.

Mendle is summoning me. Excuse me.

He left and Aleena resumed her search. Baezha joined her.

Mendle was right, Baezha said. They only had the two sources.

I’ve found a few that might be useful to me, Aleena replied.

Each of them sat down at a desk, opened a leather bound journal, and placed her sources before her. The desks had quills and inkwells and stands holding light stones. They started reading through their sources, occasionally writing notes in their journals.

Found anything? Baezha asked. Being Chosen, she was intrigued by Aleena’s research.

Nothing yet, but I’ve only just started.

I’m particularly keen to see what you learn regarding our gifts.

Baezha was a powerful sorceress, yet she could not fathom why their gifts should improve.

Mistress Kurrin? Mistress Ambrose?

They looked up from their work and saw Philbert was accompanied by a man they didn’t know.

This gentleman wished to speak with you, Philbert said.

Very well, Baezha replied with a nod.

Philbert nodded and left. The man was tall and rawboned. His straight brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, bringing his forehead and strong nose into greater prominence. He was conservatively dressed but, as the daughter of a master weaver and seamstress, Aleena could see his clothes cost a good deal of coin.

Ladies, he said as he gave a small bow, my name is Wik Dodcrow. I’m the major domo of the palace of Bukahr.

Well met, Aleena said with a nod. I’m Aleena Kurrin. This is my sister, Baezha Ambrose.

I thought so, he said with a smile. I saw you in the library yesterday and suspected who you were. Then word reached me of your little encounter last night and I was sure of it. You have no idea how glad I am my suspicions were correct.

Oh? Baezha said.

Yes. Your presence in our kingdom is quite fortuitous. He sighed as he gathered his thoughts. Ladies, I’ve a job offer for you. We find ourselves in need of bodyguards for the royal children.

Do you not have people for that? Aleena asked.

Things at the palace have gotten rather… interesting. There have been attempts on the children’s lives. The one last night left us uncertain of who we can trust.

And so you turn to two people who aren’t even subjects of your kingdom? Baezha said.

It’s… well, it’s quite complicated, actually. I’ve been authorized to invite you to luncheon with the king and queen. We can discuss matters, you can see the totality of our situation, then decide if you want the job.

Very well, Baezha said with a nod. We shall be there, though I warn you we didn’t bring any formal attire.

Quite all right, although for our first meeting I’m afraid you’ll have to be unarmed.

After last night, Aleena said, we are certainly not walking around this city unarmed.

I appreciate your situation, but surely you can also appreciate mine? Clearly we must be cautious about letting armed people near the king and queen.

Perhaps we could surrender our weapons to you before you bring us in to see them? Baezha suggested.

Wik thought about it and nodded.

Yes, that would be acceptable.

Very well, Aleena said.

Chapter 3

Baezha and Aleena returned to their room at the inn a few hours later.

We don’t need the work, Baezha said. We still have much of what we earned from the Shingora expedition.

"Establishing our own estate will change that. We’ve spent a good bit just purchasing the land where we want to build. Building our house could easily consume the rest. But let’s be honest