Amoro Revidi

Title: Idle Threats [Part Twenty-Nine]
Series: Vision of Escaflowne
Rating: PG-13
A/N: Next to last chapter. No Epilogue for Amoro Revidi, unless I make it a tie with the next "book"s prologue. Only a 7 page chapter, but bear with me, please, because Chapter 30 has about ten pages in it. Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing, keep it up, it motivates me to finish the story faster. I'm almost done with chapter 30, it just needs one more segment inserted and a title, along with an editing job. It'll most likely be up by the end of the week.

***

    Eries frowns as the replies begin to return to the castle, and are delivered to her by various messengers so that she has a chance to look them over before the advisors do. She considers speaking to Dryden about the matter, but then thinks better of it, he not being fit to do much more than care for his son, and by that, she thinks bitterly, nothing more than play with the crown prince in order to keep both their spirits up.

    With a sigh she looks out the window of her make-shift office set up in her old study, and a small smile breaks out on her face as she sees Celena and Allen Schezar walking in the courtyard outside, talking quietly. As though Celena knows of the princess’s intrusion on her time with her brother, she looks up at window. Eries shudders, unsure if she is imagining the slightly red color of Celena’s eyes or not, at the distance.

    Eries pauses at one letter that seems thicker than the rest, and then drops it.

    “From… Norte?”

    “I should be going, Celena,” Allen says, walking her to the King’s library, where she has said she must report after her short break.

    “Will I see you tonight at dinner then, brother?”

    “Unfortunately I doubt it,” Allen replies. “I have many things to attend to.”

    A sudden shriek from the princess’s study alerts both Allen and Celena, and with a wordless glance the two of them take off up the stairs in that direction, bypassing the library. Allen makes it to the door first, and, drawing his sword, bursts through the door.

    Celena, just behind her brother, looks over his shoulder at the scene within, and is almost moved to tears by the pity of it all.

    Eries, pressed back against the wall near the window, stands shaking, her normally calm blue eyes wide and, for the first time that either Schezar sibling can recall, on the verge of tears. “Princess,” Celena pushes past her brother to try and comfort Eries, but the platinum haired princess doesn’t seem to notice Celena at all, except to shrink back from the other woman’s touch.

    “Celena, go check on the king and Exeter,” Allen says, quick blue eyes taking in what’s caused Eries’ dismay, heart sensitive to the woman’s discomfort with his sister, for reasons Celena can’t possibly understand. Or at least he hopes she can’t.

    “Yes, brother,” Celena replies, a little disturbed at being dismissed like that. She turns and walks purposefully from the room, leaving Eries and Allen alone. As she crosses the threshold, an angry thought crosses her mind, She certainly doesn’t shrink away from my brother.

    Shutting the door behind him, Allen steps into the room and over to Eries, sheathing his sword. The letter, lying open on the table full of responses, has words written in either auburn ink… or blood, with pale golden locks accompanying it. Frowning, he reasons that the script is probably cast in blood, but something deep inside him says that the blood doesn’t belong to the missing queen.

    Eries reaches out for a moment and then ducks her head, looking down. Allen steps forward. “Princess, please accompany me outside.”

    Eries looks up at Allen, her face stricken, and tries to speak, but finds that her mouth won’t work. After another moment of quiet shock, she steps forward, reaching out to him, and Allen wordlessly opens his arms to her. After a few moments of quietly rocking the startled and frightened woman, he can feel that her breathing has evened out, and she has fallen asleep on his shoulder. Gently, Allen settles Eries in an armchair in the sunlight, and opens the window to let some fresh air in.

    Inside his breast, anger coils like a fire serpent. First the King, now Eries? I don’t care if we formally go to war or not, I will not see the house of Aston fall under such pressure.

***

    Upon receiving her letter from Asturia, Emman called her son and daughter-in-law together with her in her chambers.

    “So… it was Norte.”

    Emman nods, glancing at the two newly wedded young people. “I have called you here to ask you what you think should be done before I go to my advisors. This will be your kingdom soon enough,” she lifts a hand at their protests, “and most likely sooner than later, if there is a war. In the event that I do not outlast this war, as Jasper’s father did not, I want the two of you in perfect position to take over when I am gone.”

    Kira feels sad at the thoughts Emman is bringing to mind, but then the queen’s voice softens and she says, “It is simply the way of things, Kira my dear, no monarch can rule forever, and I don’t think I’d like to. Besides, I know you’ll be just fine. A good wife to my son, and a good queen to my people.”

    The three spend the entire afternoon ensconced and speaking about what their response would be. The letter they finally sent back to Asturia was one of the more supportive and saving of the responses.

***

    Van sits with a bemused smile upon his face at lunch, less than twenty-four hours away from his own wedding, when Peralis comes jogging up to the king’s table with a letter in his hand, bearing the Asturian seal. Van opens it, and as he is reading, the bemused smile disappears from his face.

    Hitomi blinks, looking up at Peralis as she eats quietly, and then Van says to his chief advisor, “Leave us for a moment.”

    As Peralis heads off about other things, Hitomi asks, “What is it, Van?”

    “Asturia wants to know what Fanelia would do if they were to go to war with Norte.” He sips his wine thoughtfully.

    “Go to war?” Hitomi’s smile fades as quickly as Van’s did, “Didn’t Gaea learn anything the last time? Who wants to go to war?”

    Van’s expression calms, “Not I,” he says in a tender voice, “nor Fanelia. But you do understand why Asturia is contemplating going to war?”

    “Of course,” Hitomi replies, sighing and looking down at her plate. Suddenly, she doesn’t feel so hungry. “I hate to think of Millerna kidnapped.”

    “I’m sure she’s fine. Norte… Ouran might have the guts to kidnap her, but no one in their right mind would harm a kidnapped queen.”

***

    “Stop it!” Millerna finds her voice at last, watching as the other her in the room is held up by the chin, and her hair shorn off roughly.

    The hooded figure glances at Millerna, but does not speak to her, or in any language she can understand. Instead, the figure draws up the other Millerna’s arm and slices it crosswise, drawing blood that is collected in a basin. The hair, in the exact same color and apparent quality, as Millerna’s own would be, if it were washed, is gathered and bundled carefully.

    The hooded figure leaves the room and Millerna wipes the tears of pity from her eyes. She crawls over to the thrice shackled woman whose face is slowly reverting to its original visage, and brushes the cropped hair from her forehead. “Are you all right?” Millerna asks, tearing the bottom of her shift to make a strip of cloth to bandage the other woman’s cut forearm.

    The brown eyes open slowly, as though it is a labor for them to do so, and Millerna gasps. “You… you were at the castle, in Palas.”

    The other woman’s head nods once.

    “Aren’t you… a Kathis…?”

    Another nod.

    “What happened to you?”

    “Aden,” a slightly hoarse voice croaks out. Then the young woman’s body stiffens and she thrashes, “Jasper! Kira!”

    “Calm down. I doubt there is any way that you will get out of those chains,” Millerna tries to soothe the other woman, but she continues to fight, until the shackles around her wrists rub the skin and start it bleeding slightly.

    “Stop this instant!” Millerna commands.

    Nil slowly settles, squeezing her eyes shut to fight back the tears.

    “You’re weak,” Millerna replies, ripping her shift a little more to wrap up the cuts along her wrists, “and you’ll only do yourself more harm if you don’t get some rest.”

    “Aden… why…?” Nil mutters, her eyes fluttering back in her head.

*

    It had been a shock to Millerna when the hooded figure entered the room and began to command the other chained woman. Millerna hadn’t even realized she was awake. The food from the previous day was still sitting, cold, where it had been placed when it was brought in. The words the hooded figure used were foreign to her, in a harsh tongue that she couldn’t understand. The entire situation puzzled Millerna.

    “Up, Kathis-dog,” the woman’s body began to move at that command, however rebelliously it seemed to do so.

    “Become the queen!”

    With a glare, the brown eyes opened and the figure spit out words that, even though she could not understand, caused Millerna to flinch, “I have neither the strength in me nor the desire to do that command, traitorous pig!”

    “Do it, or the queen dies!”

    The woman turned to contemplate Millerna, and the serious expression on her face caused a shiver to trace down Millerna’s spine. Something about that look told her that something very important about her own safety was being decided, but without knowing what, she did not know how to react to anything.

    “As you wish.” The other woman slowly began to shift, her face lightening and her hair seeming to run pale and then with a half-quiet grunt of effort, the blurred lines of face and smothered color of her hair seemed to snap into place, and Millerna found herself staring into her own face across the cave-cell.

*

    Millerna puts her face in her hands a moment and then takes a deep breath, unwilling to let her emotions get the best of her. She looks at the young woman and notices that, oddly enough, the shackles around her wrists are slightly bent, and there are minute cracks in the wall around where the bases holding the chains in place are seated. Millerna looks at the Kathis lying prostrate on the cold stone floor.

    She might just have gotten her arms free… but she might also have slit her wrists clean through in doing it. Millerna shudders slightly and gathers the other woman’s head into her lap, brushing the hacked ends of hair gently, and feels tears staining her lap.

***

    It took seven hours for the castle to be searched, in which time Chid found himself seated in the small reception chamber behind the throne room with his back to a corner, and Fariah, one shoulder basically useless, stood with her sword drawn facing the door. Each time the guards checked in she lowered her sword slightly and they reported.

    Chid’s top advisor, Umal, enters once the search is finished, with the report from the guards. “Four other assassins were found, and all await Miss Fariah’s interrogation in the dungeons. There is a doctor at the ready to see to her wound, and dinner is being prepared as we speak.”

    “Take the duke along to dinner and have the doctor sent down to the dungeon, he can dress my wound while I interrogate the assassins.”

    Chid starts to protest, but she steps from the alcove without waiting for him to speak. “What is her problem?” he mutters to himself.

    Umal sighs, “A Kathis does not rest during a time of peril for their charge. She will not be still again until the assassins have told what they know, and have paid for their crimes upon you, My Duke.”

    Chid puzzles and blinks up at Umal. The taller older man stands rigid and towers over the fifteen-year-old duke. “What else do you know about the Kathis?”

    “She has complete authority over you when there is a threat, and if you resist, she will take measures to force your compliance, for your own safety. Please, my Duke, step this way.”

***

    Celena had seen her brother in many moods, but she had yet to see him in one so dark as when he carried the Princess into her chamber and lay her on her bed. Her brother’s blue eyes were cold, and his face expressionless.

    “Brother-” she begins as he steps past her, but, seeing the closed and cold expression on his face, she trails off. Exeter, playing quietly in the corner, doesn’t notice the change in atmosphere.

    At his sister’s voice, he turns his eyes towards her, and, noticing Exeter over her shoulder, he resolves himself. Wordlessly, Allen turns and leaves the Princess’s chambers, heading off towards the library, and the King.

    “Sir Schezar!” The door guards to the library snap to attention as Allen comes near, and he pauses for a moment at the doors to give them quiet instructions.

    “Of course, my liege,” the guard in charge replies, and as the Senior Knight Caeli steps into the library, the two of them close the door and bolt it behind him.

    Dryden looks up from the chair near the window as Allen comes in and then narrows his eyes, “What do you want?”

    “Your wife, Fassa, is kidnapped.”

    “I am well aware.” Dryden turns mournful blue eyes away from Allen, but doesn’t look back to his book, instead, he searches out the guards at the door, and is shocked to find the doors shut tightly as Allen continues.

    “Her sister runs your country.”

    “As I am of that,” Dryden snaps, beginning to loose his short temper with the knight before him. “What is the point to all this?”

    “Your family falls apart,” Allen responds. “Do you intend to do nothing?”

    “What,” Dryden replies, leaning over and lowering his voice, “would you have me do?”

    “Something to protect those you care for,” Allen responds, reaching into his vest pocket and withdrawing the small package that Eries received.

    “What’s this?” he responds as Allen hands the small package to him.

    “A letter received.” Dryden opens it with shaky fingers. “Before you open your mouth, before you utter a word,” Allen tightens his grip on the sword at his waist, “Look carefully at the contents. Disregard the writing, look at the hair.”

    Dryden starts to stutter.

    “Stop!” Allen snaps, expression hardened, mouth a firm line of stone below his almost blazing blue eyes. “You said to me before you thought you noticed something about Millerna at the ceremony. Regard it closely, is this Millerna’s hair?”

    After a moment of shocked silence, breathless as Dryden lifts a few of the long, roughly shorn off locks to hold them before his face closely, rubbing them between his fingers a few times.

    Carefully, and solemnly, he lifts the hair to his face, touching it to his cheek and then inhaling its scent.

***

    It was not hard for Sotet to slip away from the activities and guardians his father had given him in the castle, he had been doing it often since his arrival. The castle was strangely devoid of guards, unlike other royal residences he’d visited before. There was still one area of the castle to go over before he would return to the Compound, and it was only a few days before he would leave, so now was the time to investigate it.

    The cellars were all open, and normal looking, but upon further inspection, the back wall to one was shallow and false. Finding the trigger switch, Sotet is about to venture further when he hears footsteps. Quickly, he darts into one of the side store rooms, and behind some winebottles.

    The entrant to the cellar pauses at the shallow cellar room and closes the door securely behind them, before moving to the false wall and opening it. Sotet catches the scent of fresh food, warm and cooked, for a moment, before the wall is closed and the figure is gone from the cellar.

    The queen must be in there, Sotet reasons to himself, and makes his way quietly from the side store room and back up into the castle proper.

***

    Entering the room quietly, Tristan crosses to the bed he shares with Arik and rouses her. In the dark of the windowless room he feels more than sees her sit up, and takes a seat beside her on the bed.

    After a moment of silence between them, she speaks up, “You’re bothered by something.”

    “The Council…”

    Arik lifts a hand in the darkness to touch Tristan’s cheek. Before he can speak again, she moves her fingers to cover his lips. “I know what they’ve decided. The Mistress has agitated their thoughts on the matter.”

    “But it’s not right, Arik! You… we are trying.”

    In the faintest glow of light, Tristan would’ve been able to make out the slight change in Arik’s expression, but in the pitch black of the room he cannot. A sad, saucy smile plays across Arik’s lips, unseen by the Ispano High Priest. “One of us is.”

    “What?” Tristan turns to square his shoulders towards her, unnerved. “Arik, what do you mean?”

    “Mot…” ‘mother,’ she adds silently, “was right when she said I hadn’t been taking that part of my duties seriously, Tristan.”

    “I don’t understand.”

    “I don’t expect you to. You have no desire to be a father, have you, Tristan?” she replies, words even.

    “I don’t have a choice… if we don’t… they’ll kill you.”

    “Your conscience is clear, Tristan. You’ve made every effort.”

    Disturbed, and puzzled by his lifelong friend and protector’s words, Tristan lifts his left hand to capture Arik’s in his own. “What do you mean? How can you even be sure that you can have children, Arik?”

    “The Council is certain that every Kathis sent out is capable of fathering… or giving birth to a child, Tristan. No one leaves the Compound on a mission of becoming a bodyguard without having that proven without a doubt.” She takes a deep breath, her next words spoken in a lower voice, as though she is afraid the walls will hear her and betray her, “But I won’t until you command me to.”

    For a moment, he stutters, uncomprehending what he’d ever done to deserve such loyalty from her. “I don’t really see any other option, given the circumstances, Arik.”

    “There’s always another option, Tristan.” Arik slowly lifts her other hand to take Tristan’s left and draw it downwards from her face slowly.

    Careful to school his reaction to her suggestive placement of his hand, Tristan swallows before saying, “I’m listening.”