Once upon a time in this world, lost in the depth of our memories, a lord was crossing strange lands in search of adventures. He was lucky to find one – there was a quarrel between the town mayors and villagers, which he managed to settle by fair judgement. The people were so happy and grateful that offered this lord the title of a king and all the lands around. And the whole realm lived happily ever after…

Thus the legends say. We won't deny minstrels' words, but we can tell what we know for sure.
In the hot summer of the year 361 in the local reckoning rumours began to spread across the country. The king's subjects blamed their suzerain, even nature seemed to protest, hardly resisting the heat. Farmers waited for the coming autumn in fear, expecting the harvest to be as small as never. But that was usual for those people, hoping for the best and expecting the worst. The strange thing was that King Robert do Rei left Areinor – the capital town where his Rosa residence was situated – together with his closest counsellor, and then returned, followed by a silent group of people, who settled in the Rosa. The king then withdrew from social affairs and was rarely seen at feasts, nothing to say about those petitioners who sought in vain to have an audience with him. And the rumour was that those "lucky" ones who had been eventually admitted to the grand halls of Rosa never returned, or became silent and thoughtful with mad fire burning in their eyes. Those didn't live long either.

The king's guards walked the streets watching merchants in their shops, citizens hurrying at work and children playing in small front gardens. All suspicious people were taken to prison or fined. The tension grew every day, intensified by hot weather and no rainy clouds in sight…

***


Master Group (=DM) - Daelinn, Crystal, don Alesandro.

Robert do Rei - the king
Klarissa do Rei - king's wife

John do Rei - young prince, aged 15. He grew as a very happy boy. But at the age of 12 awfull fever put him to bed. He was ill for two months. His parents were very frightened, best healers from all the regions couldn't help John. Everybody was sure, that he wouldn't reach his 13th birthday. But he survived thanks to Luana Britt. John had nearly overcome the disease, but it left a trace on his costitution. Healthy, strong boy turned into a weak, ailing creature. He lived in his apartments, rarely leavin them and never - the castle. John spent much time in the library, reading books and talking with an old librarian. - Olorin

His honor, lord Kessertin of Keran - king's counsellor. Medium height, thin, with correct features, light brown hair up to shoulders, and brown eyes. He is usually dressed in modest robe to toe. Lord Keran has a strange ability to go completely silently on any surface. He is extremely polite; no one ever heard lord Keran raise his voice. However it does not prevent him, more likely on the contrary. Unique weakness of his lordship is ornaments, his fingers are covered with rings, in hair he carries a silver hoop, and the twisted gold circuit chain on his breast. - don Alesandro

Luana Britt, usually named Lune - royal healer, aged 27. Lune wanted to be a healer from the very young age. The girl grew into a lovely, tall and slim woman with dark long hair till the waist. She had wonderful and strange brown eyes. When the cruel time came and the son of do Rei fell terribly ill, she helped to the reigning family. The boy escaped from the cold arms of Death. The king was thankful and made Lune his family's healer. - Daelinn

Gitana - circus dancer. Very small and slightly built, she has olive-dark skin and brown gazelle eyes. She is over twenty, but looks more like a child. Her long painted skirt flutters when she is walking barefooted and with her hair let down. - Ri

Litar - young hunter, who provides king's kitchen with meat. He's about eighteen years old, with bronze skin, long brown hairs and attentive blue eyes. Rather tall, he mooves very quiet, so hunter's success never leave him. Leather clothes is most preferable to him. Litar lost his parents when he was a child, so he is closed in himself and very independent. - Crystal

Seril - a lady with good looks, dark hair and attentive eyes, which sometimes make people shiver. She is rather pleasant when you come to know her better, but enemies say she's a witch and dangerous to deal with. These allegations have made her cautious and reserved, never talking much to strangers, leading quiet life in the outskirts of the town. There she spins wool, gathers herbs, makes mixtures and sings softly in the evenings. Dressed in a woollen gown, Seril is usually seen in the streets at dusk and at dawn, often carrying a small bag or two. That has been her habit since she came to live here. Some say, her parents have sent her away, others keep telling tales about her family in whisper. - Daelinn

Almir Veon – a very mysterious incidental character. Has black cloak, large hat, enchanting voice and peculiar accent. The cloak hides dark robes with a silvery sign at the chest. The elderly age is also well hidden under the hood. – Daelinn

Edwin Clanter - antiques merchant, aged about 30. He is quite tall (185 cm), has short brown hair. No beard or moustache. His eyes are green. He usually wears plain clothes of dark colours. He is always polite and greetful. Nevertheless, his real thoughts and emotions are always hidden. He started his "career" when he was fifteen years old as an assistant in a bookshop. Now his company is one of the most respectable and successful. - Olorin

Eugene Greenstone - mercenary. A young man of over-than-middle height, wearing classical mercenary garb. A simple helmet without a visor, many times cut and repaired suit of chain mail, a shield of oval shape, hanging on the back, a sword in a worn scabbard. Neither really well off nor obviously run down – one of many men-at-arms, traveling from state to state in search of fame and fortune. - Parkan

Ganlen of Areinor - former courtier, 40 years old, though looks much younger because cares after himself. But long night discussions with plentiful libation made him little fatty. Has dark waved hair to shoulders. His garments are crimson with gold insets. Lost his position of minister of finance 3 years ago with help of king’s councilor. Lives near castle gates in mansion with servants. - Korei

Diego de Quarta - merchant, aged 34. Nothing special in outlook. Calm face with smooth patterns, wrinkled, bears few scars – as a reminder of quite stormy childhood. In clothes he prefers to stick to the fashion, though h’s not used to spend too much money on that. Character: Tricky and sneaky bastard from one side; harsh and hard as a brick from another. A real man who fought for every sinlge coin in his wallet. An ex-paesant, Diego knows the bitter taste of life. He knows the price of true friendship and never (nearly never) betrays his friends. - NecroPehota


Other inhabitants of the capital town Areinor, villagers, travellers - send PM if you want to join.


Please post your quentas and suggestions in the discussion topic.
Discussion here.

In the night sky the full moon shined with changeable light famous city Areinor, peacefully sleeping in summer night of 361.

The black carriage without the arms, has left the Western gate of Areinor and was rushed on night road to the nearest forest. Оn a coach box of a carriage sat the driver, covered in a dark raincoat, he unmercifully hurrying up horses. After some minutes the carriage has driven in a wood. It seemed very strange, the carriage which should lift a heap of a dust and noise, was practically silently moved on a forest road. At last, the carriage has stopped on a small forest glade, the door of the carriage has opened, and the person in a simple violet robe to toe, has got out from carriage. A rich belt with massive buckle flashed in a moonlight.

"Please, wait for me here," the passenger of the carriage silently spoke.
"Yesss," driver nodded in the answer and leaned back on a coach box.
The person in violet robe, has turned a back to the carriage and has moved in a forest …

Today Litar stayed in the forest for much longer than in usual. Strangly, but all day long he could not find any traces of animals. So, in attempt to find some wild fowls or, perhaps, a deer, he walked deep in the forest. At last, good luck shines on Litar, so evening finded him going home with a couple of black grouses in his bag – young hunter was in need to march a long way by foot. When nigt fell on the trees and the moon arisen in the sky lot of frightening shadows filled the forest. Tree leaves wispered somethind on the light wind and sometimes it was possible to hear screames of night animal hunters or their preys.
Weariness and hunger have started to talk about themselves whith loud voices, so Litar started to think about a halt. To put a fire, to eat and to rest for some times – it seemed be very nice. Perhaps, to stay for the night… But, no – it woul be better to continue his way back home. He didn’t plan to delay here for so long.
With such thoughts Litar walked slowly, looking for a place to stay, when some strange noise in a distanse ahead has atracted his attention. It seemed that someone was speaking. But who might it be here, in the night forest? Mooving quietly and carefuly, Litar has been passing forward.

A lady was walking down the path leading from the woods to a lonely house near the town wall. Her brown gown made her almost invisible among the evening shadows. The young woman, known as Seril, lived in the outskirts of Areinor, because people's prejudices and superstitions wouldn't let her lead a quiet life within the walls, in the city itself. Seril didn't mind. Her old house, painted dark-green, was quite small, but there was enough space for its only inhabitant. Sometimes people came to her asking for treatment, yet they rarely stayed for more than two days. Bad rumours spread over Areinor kept men and women in fear, and children made bets on "who dares come closest to the witch's lair".
The woman was actually strange and could frighten anybody with an acute look of her dark eyes, chestnut hair fluttering in the wind. Fortunately, there was not a soul on the road and nothing disturbed the silence except the sound of the long gown rustling softly around her ankles. Thus she was almost run over by a coach that appeared suddenly before her eyes and passed her noiselessly. Seril startled, turned around clutching woollen skirts in hands and watched as the equipage disappeared in the distance. Then she continued her walk with dark thoughts brooding in her mind.
Once at home, Seril unpacked a small case, took out three candles with sweet aroma and lit them. Then drank half-glass of cold water and sat at the spinning-wheel, humming a sad tune.

Lune left the castle as she always did in the evening. But tonight it was because of something special...
Every evening the city waited for her. The brilliant healer. The kind person. And all poor people and peasants gathered in one of the small squares of Areinor to get a piece of kindness and medicins. It was something like ritual - crowds of people stepped away when a young beautiful woman with shining eyes was walking to the very centre of their meeting.
Not today, - told Lune to herself. Young prince needed some more drugs which the woman hadn't got. And there was the only way she could get them in a short period of time. A lady called Seril gathered herbs every day...
"I hope she has the one I need. A rare, precious herb - su'uhr, which helps the sick to become stronger and strenthen their immune system." Lune gave the boy this herb and it really helped but the precious plant was over. The woman tried not to think about the circumstances. She was slowly walking to the suburbs, hoping and praying.

A big black cloud covered the moon. And darkness fell upon the wood near the famous city of Areinor.
From the side it could seem that someone had kindled a fire in a wood. But the light which made its way through the trees was not warm. On the contrary, it seemed to spread cold.
If someone were near to that glade, a very interesting show would open to his eyes between the trees.
In the center of the glade there was a royal councilor, well-known lord Kessertin of Keran, and before him was a whirlwind of blue flame casting that cold light, and from this whirl a sibilant voice was speaking.
"What news, Kessertin?" Real frost was in that voice.
"All goes according to my plan."
"To our plan!"
"Certainly."
"What about…" The whirlwind trembled.
"Everything is all right. Soon, very soon we shall reach our goal."
"Hurry up! Dance of stars has already begun! We feel how starts..." Once again the rest of the phrase was swallowed up by the trembling of the whirlwind.
"I remember… I feel it too…"
"Don't waste your time! These games with the king and his offspring can frustrate our plans!"
"Help, rather! His Majesty has already shown huge loyalty to our… plans and even helped us to take hold of the key…"
"The main aim is to get…" a strange noise was heard from the whirlwind, "...from the treasury!"
"Do not worry… I remember it… There is time for everything… The stars should assume the necessary position and then we shall find it…"

Suddenly, lord Keran turned his head and peered closely into the wood surrounding him…

Not a rustle made Litar on his silent way. With a mess of fear and curiosity he looked on a cold light wich was twinkled between trees. What might it be? May be restless souls are there? Or evil magic of some kind?
Young hunter covered with shivers from such thoughts, but he did not stop or turn back. Soon a strange view opened to his eyes: a figure af a man standing befor magic whirl.
"Don't waste your time! These games with the king and his offspring can frustrate our plans!"
"Help, rather! His Majesty has already shown huge loyalty to our… plans and even helped us to take hold of the key…" – was speaking a man who’s voice seemed familiar to Litar.
What are they talking about?? What plans?
Youth could not understand what was happening, but it was clear that by a chance he became a witness of some ominous conspiracy. And he heard every word of this strange dialog.
Suddenly, man on the glade turned his head, staring, seemed to be, right on Litar. It was not possible to trace that someone hiding among the trees and it could be just a fortuity, but Litar scared. On a man, talking to the whirl, he recognized lord Keran, king’s councilor. It was too much for a simple hunter, so, trying to be quiet as possible, Litar ran.

I had heard the stories
Her legend served her well
A mystics myth and fable
Truth or fairytale...
© Blackmore's night

The wheel was turning round, spinning a thin thread. She couldn't go to sleep - something was troubling her mind. Yet she had got accustomed to this feeling which first appeared about a month ago. Seril saw strange things, just like this carriage moving silently towards the forest. Most rumours were somewhat connected with lord Kessertin, who payed more and more attention to ordinary citizens. Or perhaps it was just people's imagination?

A slight knock at the door distracted her from such unhappy thoughts. Seril rose and thrust the door open - dark eyes of a young lady, appearing a bit worried, looked at the woman. Seril recognized the royal healer.

"What has brought you here in the dark night?" the woman asked.

Lune couldn't help trembling - not because of cold night, but because of Seril's intent look.
"Good evening" answered the woman, trying not to worry. "I am the king's healer, Luana Britt. I've come for help". Lune expected the woman lo let her into the house, but Seril wasn't hurring to do that. Lune continued. "As you probably know, the king's son, John do Rei, is very ill. And my medicine is over. I've come here in hope, that you have a herb, called su'uhr. i've heard so much about you and decided that maybe..."
Lune stopped speaking and the phrase was left unended. The woman felt clearly that something terrible was going to happen. But what?..

Upon hearing Luana's words, Seril clutched the woman's wrist and pulled her into the room. Then she closed the wooden door smoothly and slid the latch* so that no one else could disturb them. Seril invited the lady to sit down at the table with a quick gesture and retreated to the next room in search for the plant required. "What tales did she hear, I wonder.." About a minute later she returned carrying a bag of fine fabric. The rustle of her gown broke the dead silence. The woman seated herself on the bed in front of Luana and laid the bag on her knees.
"You know, there are some kinds of medicine that are almost prohibited. Not long ago the king issued the corresponding edict as he considered them dangerous. Right he was. In his own way," Seril said quietly. She untied the bag and passed it to the healer.
"This," she pointed to the unremarkable dried dark-green leaves, "is all that is left. I would gladly give it to you for a reasonable price, but when it's over, you will have to look for a different source. I don't intent to go gathering su'uhr, at least for a while. Too many outsiders come here nowadays, and I believe they are just spies, evesdropping and informing the Rosa against me** so that I were condemned. You ought to be silent about our deal, you understand?"


* задвинула щеколду
** и доносящие на меня в Rosa

Lord Keran turned round his head. And made some steps to the suspicion bush.
“What happened, Kessertin?” asked the voice from the blue whirl.
“I am not actually sure… but there is good reason to believe that someone has been here…”
“What!!! How! You said that…”
“I remember what I said…but the fact is the fact… someone was here… I feel it in air.”
“CHECK IT!!! We can’t risk!”
Keran lifted his hands and started whispering strange words:
“Amin-na-draah-veergla-daminar”
Air near fingers of lord Keran started shining. Flash! And three small spheres* appeared in the air.
“Go, and check the forest, search any sentient being in a radius of 300 feet. And report to me! Quick!” Lord Keran clapped one’s hands.
Spheres trembled and flew away.
“Well done!”
“Thank you. I must go. See you again soon!” lord Keran waved and whirl was scattered in the air.


* - Lord Keran summoned spirits of the forest.

In cooperation with Daelinn:

Litar ran quietly through the forest, trying not to make any noises. Once or twice he looked back, and suddenly saw a faint glimmer. Before he knew what he was doing, he stopped. One of the shining spheres caught his trace and was swiftly approaching. The young hunter could think of nothing else but the blue swirl and paralyzing fear. Magic was a thing he could not understend and it always frightened him. With a great effort youth made his legs move. Stumbling, Litar turned and ran away in a desperate attempt to escape the sorcery. The sphere was following the man, but suddenly froze in the air, glowed brighter, and then dissolved in the shadows.
Glancing behind once again Litar found, that his magical chaser was gone. Young hunter didn't know what it was, but from that moment he was sure that he was in a grave danger. No doubt - lord Keran would find who spied on him. And surely, the king's counsellor would destroy anyone who could disturb his plans...
Litar did not remember how he found his way home. With messed feelings he waited for the dawn - it was not possible to sleep right now. What would happen to him in the morning, what could he do? Who might help him? And what about the king? Counsellor mentioned something horrible about the king... There were so many questions and not an answer at all...

"That will be quite all right", thought Edwin looking through a business letter which he got today. It was about nine o'clockand it was time to leave the shop for home. Actually it wasn't very far, just upstairs. He lived at the first floor and the shop was at the base floor. Clanter's assistant has already left, so he locked the door and closed windows himself. Even though it was very dark, he easily found a candle, lit it and went out of the shop. There were three more rooms on the base floor used for company needs. Four rooms upstairs were Edwin's private territory. He locked another door which allowed to get to the house without passing the shop. Edwin wasn't afraid of thiefs because he didn't have much money at home and most valuable part of his goods wash't here. Nevertheless, he had a small crossbow and a snort sword. He learned how to use them during his long trips all over the country in his past...
At last, Edwin came to room, which he used as a study. He didn't want to sleep and had nothing to do. So he took a letter from his pocket, reread it and started writing a reply.

In the Rosa

"Oh, how cold it is here. Where have they all disappeared?" a woman was mumbling to herself, going down the stairs of the North-Western wing of Rosa. "Luana! Where are you?!" White nightgown made her look like a ghost. Her pale and worried face was however beautiful, the lady was in her thirties and moved quickly, but one could feel some weariness in her bearing*. She stepped into a wide passage, half-lit with the light of torches, reached the second door to the right and knocked furiously. Nobody answered. "Where else?" The woman stood deeply absorbed in thought for a while, and then returned to the staircase. She hurried back to her room on the upper floor.
As she closed the door behind, the only candle at the bedside flickered and went out. The lady moved in the darkness – only pale moonlight streamed through the loosely drawn curtains**. It was hot and stuffy in the afternoon, but cold at night. She shivered and called out:
"My king, John is very ill, and the healer is not here, I can't find her."
The man, seeming older than he actually was, lifted his head with a grunt of discontent.
"Klarissa, I'm sure she is away to get help, as usual. Do not worry, darling."
"I've asked Dala to stay with him till Lune is found," Klarissa sat down and stared at the window, crumpling a handkerchief in the trembling hand. She remained motionless for several minutes, keeping silence. It was useless to ask him to send people after Luana, she would certainly return when she wanted to, but the Queen could not put up with the thought that so much depended on that young lady, strong and yet vulnerable. Robert was falling asleep again, tired of those troubles.

* осанка
** неплотно задернутые занавески.

Lune thanked Seril for her help. The young woman wanted to stay for a while and have a bit of talk to rise the curtain of mystery surrounding Seril, but something hurried her – the feeling that something’s coming over…
Luana left the house and stepped into the darkness of the reigning night. The royal healer thought that she heard some strange sounds on her way to the Woods Gate and tried to walk faster, breathing heavily. She wanted to run as the shadows, living their own, ghostly lives, tried to catch her, stretched their arms…
Finally, the Wall appeared in front of Lune. The woman sighed and entered the town of Areinor. She hurried to the Rosa and decided to go through the front gate.
‘Who’s coming?’ asked the guardian.
‘It’s me, Robert. It’s Lune’ she tiredly smiled.
‘Oh, my lady! Her majesty is looking for you!’ Robert seemed to be worried.
‘I’m coming…’
Lune ran through the reception halls to the Prince’s Room. On her way she got out the medicine to be prepared for the worst. She opened the door smoothly and entered the room.
‘I’m here. Don’t woory…’

Outside the town wall

Seril got what she wanted – a few silver coins and relatively more security in exchange for those dried leaves. She would even talk to Luana a little longer, but the healer hurried to leave the house and return to the palace. She was right, perhaps. It would be better if the visit remained secret and unnoticed by anyone.
Seril locked the door and put out the light. Pale moon was shining though the window. Changing her clothes for a nightgown, the woman tried to calm down a curious presentiment. In vain. A new interest to the royal family arose in her mind. As her head touched the pillow, an awful vision flashed before her eyes. It might have been just imagination, though...


In the Rosa

Prince John's room looked like something between a hospital ward* and a library. A maid, Dala, was sitting by the bed – she rose quickly, approaching Lune and whispering to her ear what had happened to the Prince. The healer sent Dala away to reassure his parents that he would be alright. Meanwhile, Luana prepared a fusion from su'uhr and made John drink it. Within several hours his weakness would pass and the lady would be able to return to her room and have a rest after this night, full of worries.

* палата


Morning
Somewhere in the city

First rays of sunlight fell on the town walls and ran across the silent streets. The citizens were just waking up and blinking at the new day before getting down to work. One man, however, constituted an exception. He crossed the streets, sticking to the darker side, walking rather slowly and watching everything around him. His steps were light and sure, he obviously knew what his aim was. The man eventually stopped at the antiques shop door – the one that, as he knew, led to the owner's private rooms – and reached for the bell.

Just as Edwin rose to his feet wondering who might be ringing the bell in the early morning, a few blocks away a red-haired boy of twelve knocked at the door of Litar's house. As he received no immediate reply, he knocked louder and shouted.
"Hey, wake up, they want you at the palace, have you got anything for today's dinner?"
Then he applied his ear to the door, trying to distinguish some sound of feet hurrying to open it. The scullion*, named Ron, hoped to find Litar at home, because if the hunter was away, Ron would have to go looking for him all over the city. The boy was actually loath** to do it, but the order was quite precise - "Fetch me Litar".

* поварёнок
** нежелающий

//In cooperation with Daelinn.

The sun was rising and its rays filled Edwin's bedroom with wonderful light which could be seen only in summer during the time of daybreak. Actually Clanter never noticed this sight because usually he didn't forget to close the shutters. Also the last time when he got up so early was some years ago. Now he could allow himself to stay in bed a bit longer. "I'm getting older", he thought. "In former times I used to pay no attention to solar light if I had a chance to sleep. But..." Suddenly he understood that the door bell was ringing downstairs and this very noise caused him to wake up. It was a bell of the "private" door. "Very strange. Who is it? And what the hell is he doing here in this time? And the time is very unsuitable for visitors". Nevertheless, he made himself stand up and dress. It took him about a minute. He had many clients from high society and didn't want to lose them. So he went downstairs cursing everything in the wolrd and opened the door. There was a middle-aged man in a cloak and a hat with wide brims. His clothes were covered with dust and looked as if he had a long journey.
"Good morning", said the stranger. His voice wasn't very loud, but it was deep and the sound of it was nearly charming. Edwin noticed that he had peculiar accent.
"Hello!" answered Clanter. "Come in, please. How can I help you?"
"Thanks. Sorry for waking you up, but I'm leaving the city today and would like to strike the deal before the departure" the man said making his way to one of the merchant's rooms. There he sat in an arm-chair and crossed his legs. "My name is Almir Veon, and could I have yours?"
"Edwin Clanter at your service", merchant sat in other armchair.
"Well, Mr. Clanter," the man smiled, "I've got something to offer you. As a matter of fact, I ought to have kept those things to myself, but you see, now I need cash urgently..."
Almir took a bundle out of some inner pocket of his cloak and untied it. Edwin saw a richly carved casket of ivory, looking mysterious in the light of the rising sun. There was also a mahogany wand, with numerous notches on its once smooth surface.
"I would ask as much as 40 sterlings for all that."
Edwin was surprised. First of all, it was strange that a man who even didn't know his name came to offer such a deal. The things looked wonderful and Clanter was sure that he would easily find a buyer, but... The price which was extremely low and the strange seller made him prick up his ears. He hesitated. Nevertheless, he seemed to be confident and busy as usual.
"May I have a look?" he took the casket and tried to open it, but he couldn't. "What's the matter?"
"Ehm... I must confess, I do not know either," Almir lowered his gaze. "It was a sort of a present and I never made out where the secret key was and how it opened. If it ever really did. I guess it's just a lovely piece of no particular practucal use."
"And what do you want me to do? I don't buy different stuff for fun. I usually resell it in order to get some profit. I'm not sure that anybody will be interested in it... But let me think." Edwin tried to imagine a man who is rich enough and who is interested in mysteries.
"I'm sure, there are rich people in your city who would pay for it twice this price. I offer the casket alone for thirty coins. And the wand is quite alright, just worn with time..."
"Well," Edwin said after a short pause, "I think I'll buy it." He managed to count approximate profit and thought that it was worth taking the risk and getting up early. "I'm sorry for my question, but still... Are there any guaranties that these artifacts are not stolen and that they won't cause any serious troubles for me and for my business?"
"Serious troubles? Oh, no!" The early guest levelled his eyes and looked past the merchant at the trees behind the house. "I don't think they are of such a great importance, and they are not stolen, I assure you," Veon's soft voice sounded convincing.
The stranger could convince. Or Edwin wanted to be convinced? In any case, he decided to strike a deal.
"All right," he said. "I'll buy both things. But I'd like you to write a receipt".
Almir nodded and found a sheet of paper on Edwin's desk. He wrote several lines in ink on it and largely signed.
"Here you are."
"Thank you", Edwin gave him money and took the things.
The stranger gathered the forty silver coins and put into a small leather bag, which instantly disappeared in the folds of his cloak.
"I must go now," he said rising to his feet.
When the guest left Edwin went to a room which combined kitchen and dining room. Having breakfast he was thinking about the deal. It was quite good, but something still seemed strange. His thoughts were interrupted by the door bell. It was his assistant and his coming meant that it was time to start trading. Clanter decided to think about the stranger later.

Loud sound of knoking at the door teared Litar out of his drowsiness – man didn’t notice how he fell asleep.
"Hey, wake up, they want you at the palace, have you got anything for today's dinner?" – Litar recognized the voice of Ron. Suddenly hunter remembered what had happened in the forest this night and clows of fear clenched his heart. As he was already dressed (he fell asleep right in clothes), Litar opened the door so sudden that the scullion almost fell in the room.
“Hi, Ron, why are you so screaming? They can hear you right on the other side of a town.” – Hunter took his bag and stretched it out to the boy. “Here, take it. I shot it down this night. Take it to the kitchen and leave me be – I’m very tired”. Hoping that he had time to think what to do, Litar tried to shut the door, but the scullion did not let him.

All was wrong. The weather was wrong, the people were wrong, even the rumours were wrong! All was going worse and worse that year and completely without a reason. That was told to Gitana by circus director - a small round old man with his face gone red. Vigo, their strong man was taken into prison by a few guards and the director was mad from knowing not the reason of it. To be honest, all troup members was either mad or depressed. Gitana was either mad and depressed. She knew fo sure - Vigo could not do anything wrong, he simply could not. He was extremely kind, that Hercules, and even shy a bit. But now he was inprisoned. She must go to the King. And ask him about her friend. For many years there was rumors all over the country about his honesty and righteousness... Once upon a time. And it coud not be changed in one year too. She will go and find the truth - right now.

Antiquary

Almir stepped down the threshold of Edwin's house and paused for a moment, smiling to himself. His worn cloak was hiding dark robes of fine wool embroidered with a silvery sign – some letter from an unfamiliar alphabet. But hardly anybody ever noticed that – Veon was careful enough to keep secret his origin while he was here. One more visit – and he would be able to leave for the country, his business in Areinor being over. Almir chuckled, glanced at the rising sun and hurried away. The few sleepy people he met in the streets paid little attention to the stranger.


Litar's house

"Ouch!" Ron almost headed for the floor when the door flung open and Litar finally appeared before him.
While the scullion was gathering again his thoughts, the hunter handed him a bag actually telling him to take it and get away. For one thing, that was what Ron had been send for. There was, however, another part of the errand. So the boy stepped on the threshold, keeping the door from closing by his foot. He had something else to say to the hunter, stressed out as the latter was after the night.
"Thanks... eh..." the words were hard to put together. "Hey, wait! You can't really just get off like that," Ron continued with a sort of apologetic expression on his childish face.
"The chef asked you to come as quick as you can. There gonna be some grand feast or reception or dinner or something, so he... eh... I can't return without you," Ron stuck hands in the pockets of his pale-blue trousers and looked challengingly at Litar. Well, what else was left to him? He needed that job badly. The fear to get fired gave Ron unusual courage - he would drag the hunter out of his house, dammit. He must.


Before the palace

The long-expected sunrise eventually broke, and the sleepy guardians by the Rosa's front gates were rubbing their eyes anticipating the shift. The night hours were as usual unremarkable, except for Lune's venture to the city. The affairs of Rosa's inhabitants, however, were none of their business. The task was to stop and examine and (if necessary) arrest impertinent strangers desiring to peep inside. In exceptional cases - to let the guests pass and escort them through the labyrinth of the corridors. Two guards were blinking at the dawn, two more of their companions sleeping peacefully a dozen of feet away. It was high time they woke up.

"The chef asked you to come as quick as you can. There gonna be some grand feast or reception or dinner or something, so he... eh... I can't return without you"
Litar's face gone slightly pale while Ron was speaking. Young hunter understood well enough what was going on. The concilor, not a grand feast, is the main cause of that urgent summons. But, from the other hand - they could send guards after him, not a boy...
Trying to find a right path out of this, Litar glanced at the scullion and said with some anger in voice: "Go, go. I need to finish some work. After that I'll go there. Promise you, that I won't be too late"

Litar’s house

Ron stepped back in hesitation, then made two steps aside and leaned against the wall. Litar looked scared and angry at the same time. The scullion wondered why he should be so afraid to appear at the royal kitchen, unless the hunter had done something... Well, that was none of Ron's business.
"I'll wait here," he said wearily, sliding down the wall and placing the bag on his knees. He would just sit here until Litar is ready. The chef rarely accepted any excuses for not fulfilling his orders.


Outside the town wall

Seril slept badly this night. The vision which flashed before her eyes the previous evening returned later. A chain of signs, which could be interpreted in many different ways – but none of them was optimistic. After a light breakfast, the woman went for her usual stroll in the woods, this time half listening to morning birdsongs and hardly looking around. Perhaps, she will have to keep away from the city as much as possible – Seril had no intention whatever to get mixed up in another of those dirty affairs, which was obviously brewing in Areinor.


Before the palace

Leir rose quickly to his feet when he noticed a solitary figure approaching the front gates. The guard glanced at his companions, nodding at the early guest. The man in a weather-worn cloak came up to the guards, who stepped forth blocking the entrance.
"Who are you," Leir demanded, "and what business has brought you here?"
The stranger raised his hat a bit and looked straight into Leir’s eyes.
"My name is Almir Veon," he replied in a hushed voice. "I've got no intention to enter Rosa, nor talk to anyone in there. I would only ask you to hand this over to His Honor Lord Kessertin."
Almir slid his hand under the cloak, letting the silvery sign on the robes underneath glitter in the rays of the rising sun, and produced a sealed scroll tied with a black ribbon. The mark on the seal resembled the one on his robes.
"You shall report to the Councilor about my visit and hand in the message," Veon's tone was now authoritative.
"Of course, Sir," Leir hurried to take the scroll and bowed. When he looked up again, the strange visitor was already gone. He only noticed the flap of his cloak before it disappeared behind one of the buildings surrounding the central square. The guard muttered something and rushed inside to the south-eastern wing of the palace, where Lord Kessertin of Keran resided.

In the palace.

Though he looked just as usual, that morning lord Kessertin was very excited. The moment of fate was coming soon. Everything was prepared and not a mistake should be with this. Silently walking on the coridors, the concilor came at the palace’s kitchen and watched the chief-cook’s work. Today’s dinner for the king needed some SPECIAL spices. And the chief-cook was going to make all the dishes right. Lord Keran thought, that he must see the process with his own eyes.

Litar’s house.

Sighed, Litar walked through his room, trying to find out the right way. Without doubt this summons in the palace was a trap. But why they didn’t send guards after him – he did not understand. Well, anyway – he stayed free, so…
After a few minutes the scullion saw Litar, coming out the door.
- Hey, why do you seet hear? – the hunter pretended angry. – I said to you to go forward.
But next Litar waved with his hand:
- Oh, gods with you, let’s go together.

In the palace

The chef started when he saw His Honor's at the kitchen's threshold. Clim remembered his instructions quite well – he did receive his salary for something, after all, and he always did that perfectly. His sophisticated dishes were tasty, spices – ideally combined, and the King praised the chef-cook above all others. Lord Keran did, too, but in his own way.
"I've already created the recipe you asked for, my lord," Clim said, tearing his attention away from busy and fussing cooks and scullions, bowing his head to Kessertin. "Pity, we are left with little meat, but I'm now summoning our hunters to help with this. Knowing their zeal, we expect to get everything ready just in time."
"Hope you do," Keran was examining one of his sparkling rings, then went on to study the chef-cook's face. "This dinner must be exceptional. You know the reward."
Clim began nodding quickly, mumbling something about His Honor's goodness and generosity. Lord Keran pierced him with the gaze of his brown eyes and walked away, through the long narrow corridors of Rosa's south-eastern wing.


Litar's house

Ron jumped at the sound of the opening door. Goodness gracious, this guy was coming with him, after all. The scullion replied nothing to Litar's demand, but the expression on the red-haired boy's face showed much relief. Ron flung the bag at his back and followed the hunter, who knew the road to the Rosa himself for sure. About halfway to their destination point, Ron failed to keep his mouth shut and started gossiping about what was going on inside the palace.
"You know, since the very morning everybody seems to be hurrying here and there as if an alarm has gone off," the scullion whispered and then added in a hushed voice, "His Majesty is said to have demanded a grand feast, but there is not enough meat and all that. I think..."
Ron never finished his thought and cut himself short, remembering the cook's strange look when the latter burst into the kitchen that same morning.


Outside the town wall

The woods to the east of Areinor were most frequented by hunters or people with deep understanding of the ways of the nature, wishing peace and quiet for meditation. Those usually went there at noon and left long before the sun approached the horizon. Even in former days the forest on this side was never safe for a solitary wayfarer, nothing to say of the present uneasy times. There were lots of small parks in the city itself to entertain general public and keep it away from the wild.
Seril was of the kind of people, however, who dared go to great lengths in order to get what they wanted. She was unafraid of the things she understood (or seemed to), and the nature was familiar to her. But the last night's ride of the councillor's coach awoke fear that had been creeping up steadily on her soul. Soft whisper of leaves intertwined with the rustle of the woman's brown gown, twigs crackled under her feet as she followed an old overgrown path. Before a small clearing Seril stopped, quivering, although even the tree shadows this summer failed to protect against the heat. Too bad. The woman glanced around, noting nothing strange, picked some blades of grass, and then walked away. A stream was winding through the forest, transforming into a small pond half a mile down from that place. There she sat, twisting the weeds, twining sort of a wreath. Once ready, it was placed on the water surface, and enchanting formulas came to life.

Going towards the castle, Litar had tried to gather his thoughts. It was uneasy, but it was vital. Listening scullion's gossip with half an ear, hunter wandered what will he do, when the Keran's guards will grab him.
It was not long distance to the Rosa's walls when Litar saw Gitana almost running in the same way as he was fallowing. She looked rather excited and somehow upset.
- Hello? - Litar called for circus dancer and smiled with some effort. - Something has happened? You look like circus is burning.
The girl had stoped and turned to hunter and his young companion.
- Burning? - she exclaimed. - Things are almost as worse as it. They arrested Vigo! He could not do anything wrong, but he is in prison now. It is a mistake! I need to tell them, that they had made a terrible mistake!
Words were flowing like a stream out of Gitana's mouth and it seemed, that she was becoming angry. But her words had terrified Litar when he realised, that maiden was going to palace with such claims. She probably did not understand what was happening in kingdom.
- Wait! You can not go there now. - Litar had tried to convince dancer. - Don't you know that you would not help Vigo, but they will take you to?

Young woman could hardly open her eyes - so sweet it was, lying in the warm bed without thinking about the troubles of the real world. What is a dream? Lune thought that dreams are the only way to open the gates between different worlds. That's why a dream is a kind of magic.
But Luana woke up and had to get up. Her duties couldn't wait. Trying to dress as fast as she could, the healer thought of last night - full of worries and strange visions. Then her mind lit from the darkness the thought of prince John.
'He must be alright now' Lune told to herself. The fusion was powerful, but the recources were almost over. The woman needed to find a new source. But she couldn't gather su'uhr herself - it was too far from Areinor. And the situation in the city turned misty. It was not quite a good time for leaving.
Luana forced herself to forget about it for some time. 'I need some rest.' And the healer stepped from the coziness of her apartment to the long corridors of Rosa. She moved towards the kitchen. 'And some food too...'

When the stranger left Edwin started his usual work. The day was not very successful, actually, there were no more vistors so he released his assistant in the middle of the day. Then he decided to have dinner and think about that stranger and their deal. But he didn't manage to complete this plan. A ring of the door-bell which he heard soon after the departure of his aid ment that someone wanted to talk to him. His visitor was lord Kessertin, king's counsellor. Edwin invited him to come in and asked what brought His Lordship to his shop.
Kessertin sat down to the armchair and asked.
"I've heard that you take a new ancient knick-knacks", lord Keran smiled. "Could show me something?"
"You see, sir, I have a lot of different stuff... Do you have any definite preferencies?"
"Have you got any caskets? For letters or for jewelers, it doesn't matter - prolonged counselor - As you maybe know, I am sort of collector… a knick-knack-hunter."
Kessertin glanced to the shelves.

(And Олорин)

"He needs a casket... It's a good chance to get rid of that thing's which I bought some hours ago..." Edwin was sure that he had to use this chance. So he took that casket from the shelf opened it, and gave it to cancellour.
"Look. What do think about it?"
"Very interesting! - Kessertin took the casket - It seems old, very old… do you know what these symbols mean?"
Edwin shrugged his shoulders.
"Didn't have the chance to find out."
Lord stood up. His eyes were shining.
"I am glad that I found some minutes for visiting you… I buy this casket. How much?"
"Mmm... 200 sterlings, is it okay?" This price was a bit higher than a real cost, but Edwin hoped, that lord Kessertin would agree.
"The price is acceptable… - Keran doesn't let go casket - Now I've got only 125, until the sunset I've send somebody to you"
Lord unties his pocket and throws about it to the vendor.
"Thank you… and have a nice day!"
"Good bye, sir."
When the councellour left Edwin smiled, put the money into his pocket and went to his dining-room in order to have a snack.

(And дон Алесандро)

The full Moon made its way slowly across the night sky. The nocturnal luminary imparted everything touched by its radiance an eerie aura, both attractive and frightening. Wolves’ sun, some say… Unfortunately, sometimes legends hold the truth – way more, than one would like.

… A lone figure was striding steadily across the moonlit fields. An outside observer would have said that the night traveler was obviously a man, of over-than-middle height, wearing classical mercenary garb. A simple helmet without a visor, many times cut and repaired suit of chain mail, a shield of oval shape, hanging on the back, a sword in a worn scabbard. Neither really well off nor obviously run down – one of many men-at-arms, traveling from state to state in search of fame and fortune. An attentive and knowledgeable observer would also notice that the mercenary was young, not quite successful at the moment and seriously worried right now. But where would such an observer emerge from late in the night in the middle of sunburnt field a few hours on foot from the city?

It seemed as if the Moon was winking archly at Eugene Greenstone, stirring blood in his veins. Sometimes the mercenary even began to think that Lune was teasing him outright. Alas, there was nothing to be done about it. After the incident two days ago, in a small inn at the ferry, Greenstone was left with the only way to escape wrath of an angered mob – flee. And so he did before someone cared to connect a quarrel followed by a fierce fistfight, thunderous roar, marks of huge teeth and claws on torn bodies of local drunkards, and bloodied footprints leading into the forest. Again! Lack of self-control in the most unfortunate circumstances, characteristic during the full moon, had shattered what stability Eugene was able to build up. Darn…

Well, too late now, anyway. No point in weeping for the spilled milk. In the beginning of that disastrous evening the mercenary had overheard some gossip about Areinor, capital of a neighboring kingdom. Some strange unrest was going on there: missing people, mysterious people surrounding the king – and, on top of that, a long draught. Hmm… Not that Eugene was good at or, at least, liked to fish in troubled waters – but the whole situation did offer some possibilities for an enterprising fellow. And Greenstone was certainly not in position to decline them outright.

The night journey went peaceful and uneventful for Eugene... except for the growing feeling of having lost direction to Areinor. Once in a while Greenstone looked at the stars, checking the Star Axis. Well, at least he was going west.
Hours went by, the field gave place to a vast forest. The sky was getting bright already, so the mercenary went in without hesitaion. His main concern was to mantain the course, since, due to the same reasons he had to move to Areinor, wild creatures tended to avoid him if not pressed into the corner.
Soon the clouds of morning mist winding between the trees were pierced by the soft light of rising sun. Having left about fifteen miles of rough terrain behind, Eugene felt hungry and tired. Luckily, in a clearing ahead he spotted a still surface of a forest lake... or a pond maybe - there was also a faint sound of gurgling water, a spring, perhaps.
Some rest, finally! Onward!
Paying no attention to branches cracking under the soles of his boots and leaves rustling behind, Eugene forced his way to a nice opening at the pond's shore.

Before the palace

Ron calmed down, seeing that his abrupt silence didn’t catch the hunter’s attention. The scullion was concerned about his own wellbeing in the first place. But when a strange girl appeared, the poor guy started worrying again. It was almost 10 a.m. Ron should have been at the kitchen by this time, engrossed in rubbing down frying-pans. Marta will complain to the chef ‘bout his behaviour and Clim will get angry for sure. Ouch...
“Hey, lad, come on. Or else we get in trouble, both!” Ron was pulling at Litar’s sleeve like a small kid at his mum’s.

The guards at the front gate noticed the three people standing at the far side of the central square and glancing now and again at the palace. Leir, loath to get involved with any other strangers in the same morning, was now watching them lazily. Should they stay there for two minutes longer – and he’ll have to report it. Damn all this fuss and suspicions!


In the palace

Luana walked to the kitchen in the same north-east wing of Rosa where her own room was. Servants migrated by in evident hurry. As she came closer, she could hear the cooks’ voices ringing even across the corridors, urging ‘those lazy bastards’ to move on and get the feast meal ready by noon. That was clearly impossible, ‘cause the royal suppliers had just been sent away to fetch more meat, and that meant at least two hours’ delay.
In a small room to the left of the main corridor, which was a kind of canteen for servants, two maids were gossiping over a can of cabbage soup, not even caring to talk in whisper. The noise from the kitchen was anyway overriding for an outside listener what they were saying.


By the forest pond

The fibres intertwined
The memory caught...

Seril flinched and twitched, failing to recite the formula up to the end. A loud crackling was heard from behind as if a beast was making his way through the forest paying no attention to whatever obstacles it met on its way. Making fists and clenching her teeth, the woman turned round - very much eager to ‘explain’ to whatever being she was to face, that interfering in spell casting was ‘not right’. Raising her gaze, Seril saw swinging branches of rowan-trees, then a helmet, and finally the whole figure of a man. The latter looked like a guardsman or hireling who had been wandering through the woods for the whole night.
“Don’t your jingling and glittering trifles obstruct your view and cut off any sense of caution? Wonder why you’re still alive,” the woman uttered in a cold voice touched with hardly suppressed anger. Then she looked at him closer, speculating on what such series of strange events might mean. Alright, perhaps there’ll be a hint – just see him off from here and finish that rite...

Suddenly a sharp cold voice pierced the rustling and cracking.
“Don’t your jingling and glittering trifles obstruct your view and cut off any sense of caution? Wonder why you’re still alive.”
Imagine yourself tired, hungry and dirty. Imagine yourself having to stride on and on for the whole night through the rough terrain. Then, at last, you spot a nice place to settle down for a while. You break through the thick undergrowth, looking forward to get rid of backpack, armor, gods-damn-them boots, and jump into the water… only to walk into a furious woman, eyeing you angrily!
“Well, good day to you too,” Eugene frowned and stepped sideway, intending just to walk past the strange woman. “Thanks for caring so much about my safety,” acidic self-irony ringed in his voice, “but, as you can see, I’ve made it so far as here and now. I can take care of myself, thankyuvrymuch”.
Uh-huh… the last time you took care of yourself, you had to flee real fast. Great work, laddy… Greenstone winced, sighed heavily and went on to a nice spot on a sunlit shore near a small sandy bank of the stream. Judging by the traces of an old fireplace, this cozy spot was a popular place for picnics, and Eugene was fully determined to make use of this peaceful secluded nook in the forest and have a thorough rest for the remainder of the day.

By the forest pond

“I can take care of myself, thankyuvrymuch.”
“For nothing,” the woman replied, watching the intruder go past her to the stream. Well, at least he doesn’t seem eager to bother her any more.
Seril crossed hands at her breast and followed the man by a curious gaze. Should find out who he is. But later. She looked back to the pond, held up the dark woolen skirt with her fingers so that it did not trail after her catching on each fallen twig. The wreath had been driven farther from the shore and Seril had to step into the water in order to drag it back. After that, hissing through the clenched teeth, she tried to shake off water from the lace-boots – to little avail. Eventually, relative tranquility needed for concentration was restored and the inquiring incantation recited again.
For some time only sun glints danced on the pond surface intertwined with tree shades. Then it flashed...
In the night sky the full moon shined with changeable light famous city Areinor, peacefully sleeping in summer night of 361. Then darkness fell upon the woods, the moon shaded by a cloud. Shimmer of blue flame, hushed voices, secrecy, eavesdropping, chase... Swirl... Blink...
The picture became confused, the image dissolved in the light-blue ripples, and the not-long-ago restored peace and silence of the forest clearing were broken by a shrill cry.
“Damn!!”


Before the palace

Leir grew more and more suspicious. Under the circumstances, he was confused. First the strange guest with an urgent message, then this fuss ‘bout royal feast which could be heard even here, and finally the three youngsters still chatting in a corner of the Central Square. Usually people came here in the evening, when small fests or social events were organised. And those three were stealing looks at the front gates as if wishing to come in (uninvited, heh!) but yet not daring to. Suspicious, that’s exactly how it looked.
The guardian gestured to his comrades, ordering to stay on duty, and approached the boy (vaguely familiar), a girl and...
“Ron! What have you been doing here? Your place is at the kitchen as far as I know. And you, strangers? What are your names and what the hell is your business here?” Leir spoke calmly, but in a professional coldish voice of a royal guardian, sending shivers down the addressee’s spine.

Prince John de Rei opened his eyes. It was quite dark in his bedroom but he understood that it was because the blinds were drawn. He felt much better than some hours ago when he was heavily attacked by his mysterious disease. Actually, he could hardly remember anything about that night… Only some people whispering in his room and the face of Lune, the royal healer, who was looking at him and saying some unclear words. Now it seemed a bad dream but His Highness realized that it wasn’t. After five or ten minutes of looking at the elegant decorations of the ceiling prince John decided to get up. The first attempt couldn’t be called successful: he felt giddy and fell down back on the pillow. Then he remembered that he was a prince and that here, in Rosa, there were pretty enough people who could (and had to) help him. So he found a bell and rang.
In a moment his footman* came in. His appearance showed that he had a sleepless night. Prince even felt a bit guilty because his disease gave many other people a lot of trouble.
“Good morning, sir. Can I help you?”
“Hello, William… First of all, please, open the window”, asked young prince. When the servant did, daylight and fresh air filled the bedroom. John found out that it was already quite late. The air and the sounds from the garden made him feel much better.
“Thank you. And now, please, help me to get up and dress. By the way, is there any news about Rosa or Areinor?”
His servant had a wonderful ability to know practically all news and gossips of the capital. Some of them he was glad to share with his master. William was very talkative man and prince was eager to know what was happening outside the palace which he couldn’t leave for already three years. But today the servant told His Highness no useful information. “Just imagine, sir, duke Safley portioned with his daughter** a castle of Idune!.. And lord… And sir Kessertin…” And so on. But the name of King’s Counselor reminded him about some suspicions that he had about His Lordship’s affairs and the situation in Rosa in general. So when the dressing was over prince John interrupted his servant.
“Please, William, call for Lune. I feel not very well.”
“Sure, sir”, answered William, bowed and left the room. Prince John sat down in the armchair. He had headache, but the main reason of sending William away was that young prince wanted to be for some time alone in order to have chance to think about some strange facts. He didn’t like sir Kessertin. Really he hated him. Some mysterious business of His Lordship was doubtlessly harmful for Royal Family and maybe the country in general. Prince understood this fact but he could do nothing. First of all, he didn’t have enough information. And the main problem was that even though because of his health he spent much time reading different books and discussing them with the librarian instead of fencing and horse-riding and even though he was better educated than most part of adults prince John was just a fifteen-year-old boy whose opinion meant nothing even for his father. For example, those men who came to Rosa some time ago. Or they were not men? When John asked his father about this group and than asked to remove them from the palace the only answer he managed to get was something like: “In some years you will understand that it is necessary for the politics…” Actually, prince was sure that it was lie or a terrible mistake. But… If only he knew exactly what was happening here, in Rosa! What? What?!
“What the hell is going on?” He said loudly. But he still had no theory about it.

*лакей
**дал в приданое за своей дочерью

In his attempts to convince Gitana not to go to seek king's justice Litar had not succeeded. Girl was so exited that she just could not understand what was he talked about. Only Vigo was in her thoughts, so she wanted to go straight to the king. Nothing could drive her out of this perilous path.
- Oh, you're just ignorant silly girl, would you listen to me?! Ah, damn! It's too late...
When the guard came nearby and spoke, young hunter had tried to hold a control over situation:
- I'm not a stranger - I'm Litar, king's hunter. They want me to go to the kitchen and send Ron for me. And this is Gitana - circus dancer. She wants audience, but I've told her that now is not the time. I imagine that king is too buisy right now. We've done nothing wrong and meant no harm to nobody... Can we proceede?

“For nothing,” was the reply. After that the strange woman seemed to reconcile herself with Eugene’s existence and returned to whatever she had been doing here. That didn’t bother Greenstone – there was plenty of room at the pond’s shore. The mercenary approached the large oak he spotted when entered the clearing, threw his back pack on the tangled roots near the oak’s foot and (finally!) kicked off the boots.
“Ahhh… At last!” came the breath of relief. “Definitely time to buy another pair…”
Eugene spread his bedroll aside the fireplace, removed the gloves and the helmet. He was right in the middle of pulling the worn chainmail off the shoulders, when…
“Damn!!”
The reaction was as fast as it was instinctive – hastily pulling the piece of armor back into place, Greenstone unsheathed his sword and swiftly looked around. Hmm… Nothing suspicious. Still carrying the blade, barefooted, mercenary approached the woman easily.
“Anything wrong, m’lady?”

In the palace

William left Prince's apartment and hurried to the neighboring wing of the Rosa to fetch Luana. The royal healer was the one person John needed most, and she was offered a small room nearby, but still she preferred to live with other servants rather than in the half-desolate and empty Library wing.
The servant knocked at the door but there was no response. After a second's hesitation, William descended the stairs leading to the kitchen floor. A glimpse of wonderful dark hair streaming down the back attracted his attention – that's who he is seeking. Few women among the servants could boast the same exquisite and lovely appearance.
"Miss Luana," William called approaching the healer with a small bow.
"His Highness Prince John is waiting for you. I helped him to dress up, but he is still weak and can hardly walk."


Before the palace

Leir stared at Gitana for some time, then uttered in a low voice.
"The guy's right, it's not the time now. And it never will be. Go away, little girl. His Majesty knows how to rule without any advice, and if he ever needs one – there's His Honour at his service. Go, I've told you! Or do you desire so much to be rushed home under escort? We arrested some circus criminal last week, I don't think you would like to join him in the prison cell," the guardian laughed, then clasped her wrist and pushed her rudely away.
"And your names," he continued addressing Litar and Ron, "will be written down to register your lack of zeal and assiduity. Mind your business and don't make your masters wait! Need a stick to move fast?"
With these words Leir stamped his foot and pulled closer as if to carry out his intentions. The boys hurried down the side lane, turning at its end towards the service entrance to Rosa. Ron, now red in his face as well as his hair, swallowed nervously, expecting to be hauled over the coals*.

* получить взбучку

By the forest pond

“Anything wrong, m’lady?”
“NO!” she snapped, casting a wild look at him.
“Oh yeah?” as far as Eugene could see, there was still nothing worth such a reaction around, so he stopped and sheathed his sword. He was somewhat irritated with this woman’s hostility. “Then why did you scream as if something has just bitten your rear and scare all the crows mile around?”
Seril sighed heavily and clenched her fists, keeping silence. The troubles of this morning were too much for a woman who had been leading a quiet half-recluse life in the outskirts of the capital. The pictures that the water showed at her request resembled a nightmare. Alas, they were not. The King’s Councillor, Lord Keran was there, engaged in some dark sorcery. At least the forces he used were not of the kind she had recourse to. Seril’s mystic talent was closely connected with the wild nature, but Kessertin’s power was a deadly one. But whom did he talk to last night, and who interrupted the conversation? No way to find out, unless she gained a sudden insight, which was a rare thing. There were guesses, however – a late wayfarer, a hunter or some naughty boy careless of his mother’s warnings. Too vague...
Little by little she regained patience and just stood there, eyeing the impertinent intruder.
“Well, yes,” she said at last, “but it is none of your business and I imagine your help can be of little avail. You know nothing of mystics, I guess.”
“Perhaps. But you never know, when a skilled man-at-arms could be needed..” he tried to retort, watching her pace the pond’s bank slowly and then sit down, bracing her knees with both arms. Unfortunately, this very dispute was obviously lost. Then, again, the woman did not seem to be of the kind who can afford to hire a mercenary.
“Then go and scream at some other place!” Greenstone growled, turning around and intending to return to the fireplace and keep at least a slight resemblance of the last word.
Seril started, hearing such words from a stranger who for some reason now considered this fine spot to be his private home.
“What?!” she shouted at the man’s back. “You drive me off from my beloved lands? It’s you who is a guest, it seems to me, and if you don’t like the place and its dwellers – you are welcome to get outta here!”
While Seril spoke, her right hand moved slowly forward, as if following the man, and then pushed the air briskly. The mercenary’s body twitched resembling the gesture as he felt a strong shove in the back.
Eugene felt a push – strong shove right behind his shoulder blades, causing him to make a big awkward step forward just to keep from falling. Darn! After fleeing for the whole night, after having to put up with a quarrelsome witch – unanticipated, traitorous stab in the back in response to the offer of help! The last straw to break horse’s back! Rage boiled in mercenary’s heart, sending fiery jets through all blood vessels. Eugene turned abruptly, kneeling at the same time. His face was distorting in wave patterns, features coarsening and relaxing in a way impossible for a normal man, ear tips sharpening, fangs of the bared teeth getting long and wickedly curved. The clothes and chainmail were visibly stretched to the brink of being torn apart on Greenstone’s suddenly broadened shoulders and torso.
“I sssaw no sssign ‘Prrrivate prroperrrrty’,” rasping, low, threatening growl, the last attempt to remain sane and ward off the deadly anger...
Seril jumped up and drew back hastily. What she heard could be a natural and expected response, but the change in appearance...
“Oh, my!” the enchantress stared at the man wide-eyed and started whispering words hastily, raising her hand in a protective gesture. There was something more to this guy than it had seemed.
As the woman backed off, Eugene tensed, preparing to jump. The wolf within him howled and strained to break free, and familiar bloody haze started to blur Greenstone’s vision. But.. The strange lady actually DID have some understanding of mystical craft. Her lips uttered several unfamiliar, but soothing words, than again, again and again. The short phrase pulsed in Eugene’s mind, dispersing rage and bloodlust, leaving only familiar exhaustion and – strangely – serenity. Out of breath, the mercenary collapsed on the ground, shivering. With an effort he rolled on his back and whispered:
“Thank you…”

(Parkan & Daelinn)

By the forest pond

Seril kept repeating the words she learnt in childhood but didn’t understand until Keti, a lady who lived two houses away from her down the village main lane, took her up. The musical voice echoed in the woman’s own ears, bringing down peace on everyone who heard it. Finally, she realized there was no need in the chant and drew a deep breath. The man bore a secret more deadly than hers, judging by what she saw. No doubt, he would be eager to keep quiet about it, but was too loathe to remain calm – as if something drove him crazy against his will. And what if... But no, the councilor could have no part here. His Dishonor’s foul mystic touch would have been obvious.
“For nothing,” Seril replied automatically, raising voice a little in a question-like manner. “D’you feel well? Can talk reasonably?”
The woman came up to the mercenary spread on the ground.
Eugene, still trembling in the aftershock of an interrupted metamorphosis, with some effort shifted his gaze on the woman, as she drew closer. Darn… Again. And so soon after the previous time. He could have easily torn her apart, and no doubt he WOULD have done that, would she had chosen to flee or attack. The strange lullaby saved them both. And the thing that happened once could be repeated. Hmm…
Fighting off leaden weariness, characteristic after his deadly fits of beastly rage, Greenstone propped himself on his elbows.
“Not really well… but sane at the very least, yes. Thank you again…” suddenly the mercenary choked with air and had to clear his throat with strained gulp. Then he continued:
“How did you manage to stop my… err… me?”
"Oh, you know, in these turbulent times a lonely woman cannot do without some skill to calm down the mob who hate ye," Seril waved her hand casually. "Especially if this lonely woman's dwelling is surrounded by ghastly rumours."
She shook her head. Another potential problem, this guy. As if lord Keran's "jokes" were not enough! Ah well, some diversity at least. As Seril sat down again, now by the hard-breathing man, a vision flashed before her eyes forcing a wry smile - an image of this stranger channelling his rage on to Kessertin. No idea who would have stayed alive in that case...
"Now, man, who are you?" an attentive look of dark-green eyes pinned the warrior down to where he was.
Eugene smiled grimly. For a lingering moment he considered the idea of lying, giving this woman, obviously familiar with mystical arts and maybe witchcraft too, some loosely made-up story of sickness, madness, or just rushing away. She, the one Eugene set his eyes upon for the first time less than half an hour ago, wanted to know the deepest, darkest, most guarded secret he had and would ever have. Why, Greenstone didn't even know her name! But, on the other hand... She did help, really did stop him. And he was deadly tired of having to keep this mess inside. Greenstone made up his mind, his face became stern and serious.
"I wish I knew, milady, or found somebody who would... Well, plainly speaking, I am a werewolf. I can turn into a wolf, or even a huge, deadly wolf-like beast, the one mothers scare their children with: thick fur, sharp teeth and long claws, growling and howling. But that's not all..."
The mercenary sighed, trying to straighten his scattered experiences and feelings, so strange, so inhuman.
"I can change freely. Day or night, full moon or not - if I make an effort, I become a wolf, or even the beast. There's no need in moonlight, reflection in water, freshly cut tree stump or whatsoever. But the moon certainly affects me, stirs what dwells within, pushes me into madness. I'm stronger than most of men, well trained in hand-to-hand fight.. even tooth and claw, heh. Confronted a rabid bear once, you know. So I chose to be a fighter for hire. Travel across the land... here today, gone tomorrow... never stay for long... something bloody happens, and I have to flee again... Or let the mob put me on a stake and burn."
By the end of this improvised confession the mercenary's speech had become slow, he lay back on the grass, staring blindly into the clear skies. But the last phrase was spoken with absolute certainty.
"People burn nowadays for much lesser deeds than, I think, yours might be," the woman uttered after a silence, surveying the stranger with her eyes half-closed, then followed his gaze up to the sky. Almost noon. Time to return - with bad news and bad company. "So, changeling from fairy-tales, you're afraid of other people's awareness rather than mine. Why? Our meeting was nothing of a pleasing."

By the forest pond

“Indeed. Yet no one else ever managed to stop me… heh… no one else ever cared to find out what I was,” with a soft groan Eugene lifted his head and sat up, crossing his legs. “Not that people often had a chance for that. I’m tired of being a monster.”
“Listen to me!” the mercenary leaned forward suddenly, grabbing his savior’s shoulders. “If you could teach me some of your ways, help me tame my beast…”
Now Greenstone’s voice was ringing, hope shining brightly in his eyes.
“I’d be in a life-long debt to you. Please, help.”
The woman watched the stranger silently, giving second thought to what she had decided. She drew back mildly, escaping from the man’s grasp.
“I never teach, I sell. Herbs, potions, charms, advice,” Seril paused, intending to wait and see.
Somewhat disappointed, Eugene shrugged. “Skill and knowledge are as good a merchandise as any other trinket. People sell books, people buy books. People pay considerable sums to be taught fencing, singing, dancing – whatever art or craft you like. Oh yes, I realize, the rarer the trade in question - the higher or more exotic the payment.”
“So you wanna buy my services, ain’t ye,” she smiled. "And what’s the benefit for me?”
“Well… You could have my services in return”, Eugene smiled back. “Besides, you could study me, gain some extra knowledge… if you’re so interested in my changeling nature.”
“Knowledge...” the woman’s eyes grew serious, she wasn’t smiling anymore. “Changelings... I fear to hurt innocent citizens... Ah, well, we’ve been talking ‘bout different things. Price, yes. That’ll do. But I don’t guarantee any success.”
Seril stood up and engaged herself in straightening her gown and wiping off dirt from the lace-boots. Eugene rose to his feet too and stretched his arms with a soft crackling sound.
“So far so good, ma’am. I just hope you won’t ask any of my limbs or guts. Other than that – feel free. Now, if you’re to leave, give me a couple of minutes to wash off the dust and pack my gear,” with these words Greenstone trotted off to the oak where he had left his belongings.

Ten minutes later they were heading south-west, to the forest road. Areinor lay two hours ahead, and by the time Seril stepped out into the sunlight, not shadowed by branchy tree tops, she had learnt several things new and strange from her companion’s past. Unlike him, by the way – every such attempt met a thoughtful yet impenetrable gaze and evasive reply. The midday sun was shining most earnestly when the door of “the witch’s hut” creaked softly, greeting the hostess’s return.

After this unpleasant scene near the gates Litar became a little bit nervous. Besides his general trouble with the counselor, he's got now some unnecessary attention of the guards. Too many for one young man.
The chief cook met Litar with loud curses: "Why the hell are you so long?! Where damn it the game*??? I've got to many things to do, so why I have to wait the raw meat for an hours, when king's dinner is almost at hand??!?"
Young hunter tried to tell something in self-apologies, but no one listened. His bag with wild fowls now was taken and it seemed, that he was no use here anymore. Calmed a little Litar went out from the kitchen. He intended to get out of the palace, but what to do next he did not know. It was obvious that lord Kessertin won’t let him live if he’d found who was there in the night forest. But still nothing bad had happened, so it was possible to hope, that counselor did know nothing. Yet. And then, Gitana’s face was in mind of Litar. This fragile girl must not die in palace’s dungeons, but she will if not to argue her to leave her foolish intention to seek king’s justice.
With such thoughts hunter went in the court and raising his eyes suddenly he met sharp look of lord Keran. It seemed, that counselor returned from somewhere and now was looking on Litar. Starting Litar felt that his legs became disobedient and his mouth was dry. Lord Kessertin stared at him with a long look of hypnotizing snake, as if he knew all the truth. Trying to hold control over himself Litar hastily went out. It was plain now that from that moment counselor became suspicious on young hunter’s side.

* - дичь

(with invaluable help from Crystal)

Gitana stepped down the stairs, crossed the square and thought:
"They aressted him for nothing. They laughed... They'll pay!"
What little circus dancer can do in such case? "I can do nothing." Gitana decided. She felt lost and walked by the street in melancholy. "But I must do something!" Girl's hope on king's justice was fading. But hope will never gone. Gitana kept on searching the way to do things rignt.
"He is innosent. But he's in jail. Order is corrupted. They do nothing for justice. Robbery? Bribbery? Seduction? What can I do?" Gitana did'n see where she's going. What buildings and places - this ones or others - it didn't matter for her. In the circus no one could help. They all were weak.
She wasn't rich for bribery, she wasn't strong for robbery, she wasn't so easy for seduction. She was child in this world.
"But can I go and see for what is the indictment? Why not" she decided and went to search for judge.

Ganlen woke up with awful head ache. The pain was coming and pulsing from nape over temple. It let him know that yesterday in the tavern “Drunk boar” Ganlen should have gone home after fifth tankard of hot ale, but not up on the table trying to recite a famous Shanukseepr’s poem.That innocent prank cost him a hit with fist on the back of his head. His servant got involved in the scuffle and the offender was disgraced, but Ganlen’s recollections lasted only till that moment. He gets drunk a lot now and his good cheerful temper has gone leaving space for resentment and anger.”Why? Why?” he used to ask his servant Lofan – “Why the King couldn’t solve this deal? I had been serving him well for so many years until this milksop, hell with him, tripped me up and I had to leave the Court of His Majesty, burning with anger…The King maybe thought I was burning with shame…But I can understand why Kessertin has made it. He needs the King’s treasury for his own dirty deeds.” Lofan patiently listened to repeating tirades, bowed, and seldom inserted “U-hu” and “Mmmmm-m”. He knew his master for many years and got used to his tricks. Lofan shared Ganlen’s views, but he didn’t share his master’s desire to talk about it three times a day like a prayer before meal.
Today master was in bad mood. He almost fell from stairs coming down in the dining room. “He sure has a headache.” - Thinks Lofan mixing a potion that is popular among town’s brave drinkers who do not fear to buy it in witch’s house. Lofan does not fear. Master came down, flopped down in the sofa, took green gurgling and foaming potion and tossed off the goblet. Then turned blue, green and slowly started becoming normal. Then burst out with complaints about new life…It is luck nobody hears him. Nowadays it is dangerous. You can be easily imprisoned.
After modest breakfast they dressed and walked to the streets. The cobblestone road led to the castle to the right and to the main square to the left. Old mansion they left behind.
“It seems that today got to be a long walk, Lofan”
“Yes Sir”
They turned left and walked a little in silence.
“They will pay!” Sound of voice with anger came from the corner.
Ganlen and Lofan slowly came to the corner and looked who cried. She was little slim girl from the circus. Her show with that big butcher-like man was amazing last time they attended them. Maybe only this two were good enough to make people come to the circus. She was almost crying.
“Hey girl! What has happened to you? Who has offended you?” Ganlen asked.

NOON

Before the palace

Leir sighed with relief when two other guards appeared round the corner of Rosa. It meant that it was time for Leir and one of his companions to shift their duties on others and go get some long-expected sleep.
“Anything new?” asked James Nill who was to take Leir’s place.
“Nothing good. First, some stranger – awful early! Handed a message for the Councilor. Then some lazy servants chatting with a girl just before our eyes, escaping their duties. How bold! I’m gonna report to the chef-cook ‘bout his irresponsible subordinates. Well, the guys will tell ye what they remembered when they were awake,” Leir smiled slyly and cast an eye on the two guilty ones. They blushed.


In the kitchen

Clim thought he was about to go mad with all the worries and irritation he had to experience that morning. But by half past one the cooks calmed down, even stout Marta, whose voice overrode all other sounds when she finally got her hands on Ron. The poor scullion had done all that his little forces allowed, but the fact was that he was late. That reason was enough to rebuke the little boy as if he had overturned a boiling can. Ron’s face and ears were as red as his hair, but he held back the sobs and got down to work, preparing meat for cooking.
By the appointed time the snacks, soups and stews were ready except one grand dish, which could be served a bit later. The kitchen soon grew empty as scullions and servants loaded themselves with plates and pots, and headed to the reception hall. The chef approached the last meal in preparation, smelled it, smiled with satisfaction – as he always did when his works of art succeeded – and went to the next room. He then returned carrying a small vial* with exquisite spices which Lord Kessertin had given to him. According to His Honor’s words, the powder was brought from a distant land during his last journey there, the one he had made together with His Majesty. Clim had tasted the spices himself and liked the aroma. Now he was going to arrange a special meal for the do Rei family.
The chef sprinkled the almost-ready dish with the vial’s contents and sighed – all of what he had went to flavour this one portion. With pity Clim threw the empty bottle to the dustbin.


In the reception hall

The table in the form of a horseshoe was covered with a snow-white cloth embroidered in green and gold, its ends and sides falling freely and hiding all that was or could be under the table. The square hall was decorated with green leaves and red flowers, sparkling with water drops on their petals. The sun rays lighted the hall so eagerly that no candles were needed, and the grand golden chandelier under the ceiling remained unlit.
Numerous servants were stalking to and fro between the chairs, placing on the table various dishes with appetizing smell. Most guests were present too, some measuring the parquet floor in expectation of the inviting bell, some were already seated and engrossed in small talk with others from the cream of the society.
The bell rang finally, and all gazes glued to the opening doors.
“His Majesty King of Areinor Robert do Rei and Her Majesty Queen of Areinor Klarissa do Rei!” announced the guard by the door. Everyone rose and bowed as the royal couple approached the table where it bent in the centre and sat down, the Queen to the right of the King. The first lady in light-green garments seemed weary, her face still pale after a half-sleepless night and worries about her son. Robert was dressed in dark-brown suit with a cloak over it. His look was dull, as if laziness and boredom were consuming the man. Bracing himself, he collected his thoughts for a speech and appeared a bit more strong and firm for some time.
“We regret to say that His Highness Prince John will not attend the midsummer feast. He does not feel all well and the healer advised him to stay in his rooms today. Nevertheless, Prince John sends you his blessings, which I hope you will gratefully accept together with ours. Hail the gods on the midsummer day!”
The guests applauded, calling out to the King rather that anyone or anything else, and started taking their seats. Only two remained empty – one by His Majesty, with a rich cloak on the armchair’s back instead of Prince John himself, and the other next to it, reserved for the lagging Lord Kessertin. All present rose goblets for the royal family’s health and set about tasting the first course.


Somewhere in the city. Almir

Just as the Rosa got down to the magnificent meal, an ordinary inn-keeper greeted a strange guest at his threshold. The man wore a large hat and a dark cloak covered with dust, but a glimpse at the inner clothes under it made the host change his attitude – made of fine black wool with a silvery sign at the chest, they implied its wearer was of great importance. Only rich and mighty lords could dare put on garments like that.
“Stewed meat and rice,” the stranger spoke quietly and calmly, but there was something bewitching in his voice and unfamiliar accent, tying up the listener’s will. “And good wine, too. Here’s the silver. Move fast.”
The black customer then left a sterling on the bar, walked off to a table at the farther wall and settled himself on the chair, wide brims of the hat covering his eyes.


--
* vial – бутылочка, пузырек

In cooperation with Daelinn.

Some minutes passed since William had left. John was still sitting in the armchair looking out of the window. His headache got srtonger and his mood got worse. After quarter of hour he thought that Luana could hurry up a little bit.
At last he heard a soft rustle of a long skirt and hushed voices. Then a knock came on the door.
"Your Highness? The healer is here."
"Come in, please", answered Prince.
The door opened and William stepped aside, letting in young Luana. She looked well and beautiful this morning, quite unlike the exhausted poor woman she seemed last night. The healer rushed to John and bent before him, observing his face intently.
"How are you, my Prince?"
"You see, Luana, worse than usually, but, I think, better than during the previous night", he forced a smile.
She placed a hand on his forehead, stared in his eyes and stepped back, shaking her head.
"Here, you can take what little is left of the fusion," with a sigh, Lune approached the carved mahogany table by the other window and took an inch-full glass with a greeny substance. "William, could you please bring some boiled water?"
The servant nodded and left the room.
"Thank you for your treatment, Luana", said John. "Is there any news in Rosa? Has the midsummer feast already started?"
"News? Oh, not many," the young woman put the glass back and sat in an armchair by the Prince awaiting the servant's return. "The feast should commence pretty soon, at least the meals are ready. I've been to the kitchen this morning - oh, what a fuss! Cries, noise, rattle... One of those guys who bring meat - yes, hunters - was late, so the cooks blew the poor youngster up. Awful! How can one be so cruel?" Lune levelled her gaze at John, looking indignant and puzzled.
"Yeah, you're right, sometimes people are very cruel. But I can explain behaviour. Actually, having a talk with cooks' chief is not the best way of spending time", he smiled. "And how did that guy explain his being late?" Prince wasn't very much interested in arguements between the servants, but chatting with Luana was better thinking about Sir Kessertin's affairs.
Lune obviously shared his opinion on the chef, whose talent in cookery was compensated by rough manners.
"He said he didn't know he was to come so early, because he had never done. But he came as soon as Ron led him there. Ron is some younger scullion, I believe. But that old dame, Marta, interrupted him saying that the night before all servants had been warned 'bout that, so he must have received the message. He retorted he hadn't. Well, that's a bit strange. Perhaps he wasn't at home..."
"I see... Sometimes I think that people who can leave their place any time they like should be very happy", Prince sighed and after a pause continued: "I hope, that guy has no seriuos problems because of this case?"
"Dunno," Luana shrugged her shoulders. "He ran away to escape further scolding."
"Never mind, Luana, it doesn't matter." Someone knocked at the door and William's voice informed young prince and Lune, that the servant had already completed his job. "Come in", said John. His footman came in with a jug of water and a glass on a tray. He put it on the table and asked if he could do anything else.
"Thank you, I need nothing more. You can go unless His Highness requires some help." The healer reached for the jug and poured hot water into the empty glass, then added the fusion, careful not to rouse the dark sediment. She stirred the mixture up and handed to the Prince.
"Drink it, Sir, and then I suggest you lie down," Lune looked worried, some tension appeared on her face. "Oh, I do hope it helps..."
"You may be free, William." John took the glass, looked at it, than drank awful bitter mixture. "Sure, Luana, I'll follow your advice", he reached his bed and lied down. Actually, he'd rather go somewhere instead of lying here sleepless, but he got used to following Lune's recommendations, even if he didn't like them.
Lune sat by John's side for some time till he dozed off, and after that gathered the empty glasses and headed to the kitchen, biting her lips at the thought that there was no more drug left.

Castle's dungeon

Lord Kerran was sitting alongside the bench on which lay what was still, technically, the trembling body of Bren Loustin, formerly king’s secretary.
‘What were their names?’ he repeated.
“…don’t know…”
“I know you gave them copies of king’s correspondence, Bren. They are treacherous plotters. Will you join them?
“…don’t know names…”
“I trusted you, Bren, king trusted you. You spied on me. You betrayed the Kingdom.
Kerran signed. And them he saw one oа Bren’s fingers curling and uncurling under the manacles. Beckoning.
“Yes?”
He learned all over the body.
Bren opened his one remaining eye.
“…truth…”
“Yes?”
“…your times had expiring…”
Kerran sat back, his expressions unchanged. His expressions seldom changed unless he wanted it to. The executor watched him in terror.
“I see,” said lord. He stood up, and nodded at the executor.
“How long he has been down here?”
“T-two days, milord”
“And you can keep him alive for--”
“Perhaps two days more, lord.”
“Do so. Do so. It is after all,” said Kerran, “our duty to preserve life as long as possible for all citizens. Is it not?”
The executor gave him nervous smile of one in presence of a superior whose merest word could see him manacled on a bench.
“Er…yes, lord.”
“Plot and lies everywhere,” Kerran sighed. “And now I shall have to find another secretary. It is too vexing.”
“Lord Kerran!” servant-messenger was out of breath, “Feast is already started!”
“Feast? Oh, yes,” Kerran corrugates, “I coming…”

In the reception hall

“Your Majesty, your Majesty, I’m so sorry that I am late, but business of your state protract me.”
“Oh… it’s okey, lord Kerran” babbled king, “we appreciate you.”
“I am just your servant, your Majesty” smiled Kerran.
“Let the feast continue!” proclaimed queen.
“And now, very specific meal for king!” chef was twinkled with joy.
Kerran smiled, and unnoticed turn one of his rings.
King and his queen tasted new meal smiling to everyone. Minutes later they started descending under the table.
“GUARDS!!!” Kerran cried, it was the first time when he cried on public, “Seize that cook!”

Featuring Don Alesandro

July 14th, year 361
12:30

The reception hall

The guard was roused, guests – however respectable they were – jumped up from dark wooden arm-chairs and began running around in panic, mostly in the direction of the exit from the hall. No one came to help or to show interest in King Robert’s and his wife’s sad fate – or rather was not allowed to.
Two minutes later, not without the guardians’ shouts and pushes, the reception hall was cleared. Servants, by the Councellor’s order, were led away by Leir, who mumbled quietly under his breath and grieved over the damned restless day. Some tried to protest, but His Honor Kessertin was persuasive enough to prove his decision right – “no help is needed”. So, when the accused chef-cook was seized and brought to the crime scene, only Lord Keran, six guardsmen and Their Majesties’ cooling bodies met him.
“What’s the matter?” Clim kept repeating. “I did everything as you had said, milord, and tasted each dish… And all, milord, you see, all ate and…”
“Silence!” Keran’s voice was quiet, but cut sharp like hardened steel. “You’ll pay for the death of our High and Respected Ruler and the First Lady. You are plotter, and you will give up all of your accessories. This time tomorrow you will be answering to the court jury for what you’ve done, but before this, lord-prosecutor will talk with you. Guards. Take him away to cells. And search the kitchen and servants’ rooms for poison!”
The poor man’s back disappeared behind the magnificent doors, and all was quiet again.


Prince John’s room

Luana reached the empty kitchen – surely, all had been prepared for the feast and some went to rest, others - to serve at the meal. Finding nobody to talk to, she put down the glasses with some drops of the su’uhr potion left and went back, to be near her most important patient. The young woman climbed the stairs to the second floor where the Prince’s chambers were and walked into the bedroom. The boy was lying motionless, seemingly asleep. Very carefully, Lune moved a chair closer to the window and made herself comfortable in it, her dark-haired head resting on the knees.

“Oh, my… Oh, my!”
Vague lamentations rang across the passage as two women in white aprons hurried along. “Where might she be?”
Wails and sobs approached, then the steps stopped and a light knock on the door rose Luana from the chair where she had fallen asleep.
“Please do not worry, Your Highness, stay in bed” she said to John who moved and made a vain effort to get up.
“Who’s there, what happened?” the healer whispered.
“Oh, Lune, come quick, there’s a disaster!” a faltering voice answered from the other side.
“Jill, you?” Luana called.
The door opened, showing red faces of Jill and Kail, usual waitresses at royal meals and feasts. The healer drew back in inexplicable terror. Everything had been going bad since last night. Illnesses, night walks, lack of medicine… What’s next?
“His Majesty,” Jill sobbed, “His Majesty’s dead! Poisoned!”
Kail nodded, then shook her head in disbelief.
“And Her Majesty, too! But this cannot be, oh, just cannot!” she uttered. “Why? They are good, and great, and strong…”
“Were,” Jill put in her decisive word. “I saw closely…”
“No!” Kail objected. “Please, Lune, come see what you can do!”
Luana realized she was standing with her mouth and eyes wide open, unable to say a word.


The witch’s hut

The table was lain, candles lit, and another chair found in the shed* nearby – Seril used only one even when rare guests came. She always sat on her small bed then, leaving the more conforming seat to others. Just as she did now. The brown gown was tucked up to let the wearer cross her legs upon the silvery-coloured blankets. The lunch was alright to her, but obviously not enough for the man who had settled at the table with hunger-blazing eyes. Boiled white rice and cabbage disappeared from his plate in a split second while Seril apparently enjoyed each spoonful of vegetables. Herbal infusion instead of wide-spread tea did not please the guest either.
Though seemingly concentrated on the meal, the enchantress watched Eugene intently, dropping a question or two from time to time. He was a rare person not to crouch and tremble under her gaze, and therefore all the more interesting. But Seril kept her emotions in check for another reason as well. This morning, she’d come across disquieting pictures from weeds memory, drawn by her mystic force from a tuft** of grass-blades. The woman was an inch from getting involved into a dark state affair. She wasn’t going to do anything, however. It turned out, thus, that she would be helping the royal family by medicine, and at the same time helping their enemies by silence and inactivity, but such neutrality had saved the lady's life a number of times. "It's their business, not mine."


Not far from the palace

Gitana turned briskly, hearing the stranger's words. She felt eager to give away all she thought of the men who took Vigo and of the one whom they served, but at the last moment considered it wiser to keep her tongue in check.
"No one did any harm to me personally, but my friend, he... But who are you, milord?"
The man looked respectable. Perhaps, it was a happy chance she was not to miss. Hope shone in the dancer's eyes as she forced a smile on her tear-stained*** face.


---
* shed - сарай
** tuft - пучок
*** tear-stained - заплаканный

The witch’s hut

The meal was nourishing and tasty. Well, at the very least it was so for the hostess, who was clearly enjoying each piece of cabbage. As for Eugene, starving as he was, the mercenary wolfed down his portion almost in no time. Seril tried to ask several questions, but that was of no avail: with his mouth stuffed with food, her guest – or pupil? or hireling? – was unable to utter anything distinct. Finishing off the last pinch of rice, Greenstone met a slightly astonished gaze and smiled back somewhat confusedly.
- Well, I’m not usually that hungry, milady, even taking into account my… hmmm… personal peculiarities. It’s just a long march through the whole night.
Anyway, man-at-arms was still somewhat hungry; besides, the meal definitely lacked meat. Greenstone reached his backpack, rummaged in it for awhile and produced a chunk of dried meat accompanied by a load of somewhat stale bread. That should do… Another fifteen minutes later Eugene leaned on the back of the chair contentedly, with a jug of some herbal remedy in his hand. The infusion had a somewhat bitter taste, but not too bad all in all. Now he was ready to speak, answer and, if asked, show.

Prince John's room

For nearly a moment after hearing the news prince John stayed in his bad unable to understand Jill's and Kail's words. But when His Highness realized what they had just said, he jumped out of his bad, dashed to the door and pushed Luana away from it. His weakness had completely disappeared.
"WHAT?!" uttered he a frenzy scream. "What did you say?!"
One of the waitresses broke into sobs. Prince changed his countenance.
"N-no", whispered he shaking his had. "It can't be... How?.." Prince couldn't believe the news... It seemed to be a trick, but who could joke about such a serious subject? It couldn't be... Never! But... John turned his pale face to Luana.
"Why are you standing here?!" Shouted he at the healer. "Go there, maybe you can help them!"
Suddenly prince realized what would happen, if she couldn't. His legs sank under him, so that he had to sit down on the floor. He look at Luana with his glistening eyes.
"Please..." added John silently. Tears were streaming down his face. .

Palace.

"Your Honor!"
"Yes?"
"We've searched the kitchen," the guard bowed before Lord Kessertin and held out a pocket with a small bottle in it. "Sergeant Paul found this in a dustbin. It seems that the same spice covered His Majesty's last dish."
"And also, milord… in one of glasses our forensic doctor detected traces of a prohibited herb fusion, made of su'uhr," the guardian stood straight, ready to fulfil any new command.
“How interesting… - wisped Kessertin – the plot is everywhere!”

Dungeons of palace.

In dark bad-lighted chamber cook was chained to the rack.
Lord-prosecutor sited on the chair behind the rack* and executor stayed near him, squeezing pliers in mighty hands.
“So, why do you hamper the progress of justice?”
“I don’t do that!!!”
“Lie…”
Executor raised the pliers.
Cock screamed.
“Who is the head of plot?”
“Where are no any…”
“Lie…”
Scream.
“Tell me their names.”
“Don’t…”
Scream.
“Who…"
"I don’t…"
Scream.
“Enough” the voice of his Honor lord of Keran was quiet, as usually, but cold as glacier, everyone in the cell heard him.
“Lord Keran, the subject hampered… he lies that he doesn’t know anything!
“Maybe it is true.”
“Sorry, Your Lordship?”
“Maybe he was just a puppet in talletned hands…
“Oh…” prosecutor noded assent.
“Who gives you this bottle?” Kessertin took out a small bottle. “Maybe our dear doctor?”
“Erh… I… Yes! It was she!!!”
“You see my dear lord,” Keran smiled “It was just a question of questions.”
Prosecutor smiled.
“And who bring the game-bird to the royal dish?”
“L… Litar! Yes! He was… today in the kitchen! Yes!
“Lord Kessertin it is a real plot!”
“Oh yes…” Kesertin noded to the executor “Throw he into dungeon, he avow that he knew a lot of suspicious characters! Do you agree, lord-prosecutor.”
There are no any question intonation in this phrase.
“Er… Yes! Absolutelly, your grace!”
“And outlaw this new plotters, find them! One hundred gold coins to conscious person who know where are their!


When executor, happy cook and prosecutor went out, Kessertin has stood a little, then approached to rack, dipped a finger in a smudge of blood and in pair movements drawn a intricate figure, after that he applied one of his rings to the center of figure:
“Ash arat nazgaa!”
Almir, at that very moment finishing his second glass of wine, raised his head, listening intently to something beyond other people's hearing.
"Almir... do hear me?" in dark dungeon whispering of lord Kessertin was sinking in deep silence.
"Yess," the answer came.
"Here, in palace we finished first part of our plan, now your turn, do not dissapoint us."
"I see, milord. I'll proceed right now," the phantom voice faded away, the magic link between two minds broke.


*rack – дыба.

(with Daelinn)

(with Parkan)
The witch's hut

Great strength, good appetite, bad self-control. Those were the three things Seril understood about her guest who was likely to become a freeloader* if she didn't find him some occupation in the city. Obviously some mercenary or hired labour. Or perhaps he could be of some help to herself?
"I heard, werewolves are supernatural creatures by birth. Are you any good at mysticism?" she bent her head sideways. Eugene propped his chin with his fist, pondering the question.
“I was trained in sword and shield, not book and potion, I’m afraid”, he said at last. The wise woman was obviously disappointed, and Greenstone was firm in keeping her from losing interest. This was a question of survival for him, no less – without Seril’s aid his rage would sooner or later get him into trouble he would not be able to escape or outrun.
“But there are some tricks in my sleeve, which I have hard time to explain.”
"I didn't expect any academic knowledge from you, guest. But what you are telling me now is the magic you possibly don't understand, but possess anyway," Seril nodded approvingly. "So, what is it?"
The mercenary reached for his backpack and fished out a small canteen**. He definitely needed a gulp of whiskey to vocalize feelings and emotions invoked by his bestial nature.
“Well, to begin with, I can affect the animals. Usually they feel uneasy around me, but... Tamed or domestic ones become friendly, if I wish so, while critters of the wild shy away... mostly. This must be somehow connected with my scent – they all sniff the air intently."
Another gulp of whiskey. Fiery liquid burned its way down the throat.
"Then, believe it or not, there is a sense of truth. More often than not I can tell whether the person is lying by just having a short glance at him speaking. But sometimes this sense fails – mostly when the speaker is good at hiding his emotions."

--
* freeloader - приживала, нахлебник
** canteen - солдатская фляга (объемом 3-4 пинты)