| "Where is she?" the king stormed angrily as he slammed a dagger down into the wooden table. The captain of the guard shrank back; he had never seen his lord in such a violent mood. King Hambre brimmed over with loathing directed at the tyrant who had come into his palace disguised as a friend-the good prince Dezzoryan. "More yet, where is that filthy young man who stole her from me? Where? What sort of guardsmen are you if you can not find the evil bastard? He could not have gotten so far as to escape my guardsman's grasp!" He growled to himself and turned his back to his captain. He looked town at the dagger sticking into the wooden table and closed his eyes. His hand lifted and enclosed the handle of the dagger and stayed there. Hambre sighed and did not move as he imagined all of the horrible things he could do to Dezzoryan with this dagger within his hand. "I want the search party doubled-tripled even. Spare no expense in finding my daughter. I want her found now!" "Sir, I already have one hundred per cent of my men out there searching for the dear princess." Stated the captain blatantly. He quickly lowered his eyes, almost sorry he had said that. He felt bad enough as it was for allowing the slimy young man to steal the princess away right out from under his nose. He bit his own tongue and engrossed himself in the pain, a meager punishment than what he deserved for the crime he had allowed to be committed. He tasted blood. "Then find more men!" the king roared. The captain flinched yet again, biting his tongue harder with surprise, drawing more blood to taste. "Gather the villagers of all the surrounding villages. It is the king's decree that every man strong enough to walk be out searching for my child!" The captain bowed and told the king his will would be done, and then he rushed out of the king's sanctuary to address the public. The king was left in his chambers to wallow in his contempt, the crackle of the fire his only company. Hambre let his hand drop to his side, for it had stayed upon the dagger handle. His hand ached for the feel of the weapon handle, but he tried to ignore it as he approached the fire and sat upon his chair that faced the hearth. The king concentrated on nothing but the rhythmic pumping of his heart and the soft whisper of the fire. Sweat formed upon his brow and slid down his face, mingling with his tears. He allowed his thoughts to drift slowly back and forth inside the endless miasma of his mind. It was perhaps not the best thing to do at the time, but the king could think of no activity better fitting than to fully immerse himself in the deluge that was his thoughts. His contemplation led him down roads long ago blockaded within his memory. Behind his closed eyelids images of the past flashed about, reminding the king-oh so achingly-of painful remembrances he had thought were forgotten. His jaw clenched and he grated his teeth, but the images continued to assault him. He saw his daughter, years ago, dancing in circles in her precious gardens with her hands stretched up and beckoning the sunlight. She had the look of pure, untarnished joy upon her youthful face. She spun round and round as white pedals of some unknown flower floated lazily to the earth, blotting out the sunlight and making the rays dance upon her forehead. She spun faster and faster until her eyes opened in shock as she fell to the ground on her bottom, her mouth in a comical O of surprise. Despite himself, Hambre felt himself smiling at the memory. He let the memories continue as a rather delusional escape from the present conditions that tormented him so. Another flash suspended him and he let the vision take its course. This time it was a memory most painful. He had wished his brain had chosen another recollection to haunt him; but still he did not stop it. It was Shay, his beautiful, most longed for love of his life, Shay. Her face was still etched permanently within his mind's eye. She smiled at him, her eyes twinkling, and mouth creasing at the edges. Hambre's heart throbbed and he felt himself reach out to the phantom of his past. She seemed to lift her arms and reach out to him in response, but she did not move closer to him. His mouth opened to cry out her name, but no sound escaped; his voice was caught in his throat. He looked upon her longingly, as the light illuminated her body. Her eyes seemed to dance as she looked at him with her smile still plastered upon her face. Her hair was as he remembered it; long and flowing. An imaginary wind softly brushed against her. Tendrils of soft aureate waltzed upon the wind, beckoning, tormenting the king. All for just to feel the soft locks between my fingers once more�to brush her cheek against mine. That's all I ask. Tears streamed down his face, but still he smiled. To look upon her face once again was just enough. It was more real than any memory he could recall; this was real. He could swear upon his life that she was truly standing in front of him. Unexpected joy filled his entire being, and his anxiety disappeared, if only for a moment. Promise me, my love. Promise me one thing. The king's heart stopped. Had she just spoken? It was her voice-he was sure of it! But what of it? He had heard her voice countless times in his own mind. Was he mad? He shuddered, but would not allow himself to think that this illusion was false, that he was truly insane. Anything! I will give you anything, dear heart. Come a little closer� Hambre, you can not feel me and you know it. Now listen to me, I have not much time! Her voice was straining, but it was still as luscious and beautiful as ever. Even when she was yelling her voice resembled that of a songbird's. I am listening, my sweet. Please, all but to hear your voice once more! Do not lose faith, love. Do not give up hope. Lost hope is the only thing that will truly be the end of you. Never rest until Cadence has returned to you. And when you are feeling as you were a few moments ago- The image of Shay floated forward until her face was close enough to Hambre's that he could kiss her. He would have, but he could not move. The only thing in him that moved was his heart. Hambre did not even breath. When you are feeling lost and useless, remember that I will be here with you. Remember me as you see me now. Know that even though you can not see me I will always be beside you, as I always have been. I am with you always, love, and so will forever be. I have missed you so. I do not- Hush. Her ghost hands floated up to his lips even though his lips had not moved, even though he could not feel her fingers pressing against them. It was a gesture she had used many years ago, a gesture she had used to reassure him that everything would be all right, and then she had kissed him. And then she did kiss him. He did not expect to feel anything, just as he had not felt her fingertips upon his lips. Perhaps it was his imagination, mixed with the years of built up longing for such a kiss that made him feel the kiss. Or, perhaps, the gods had allowed it to be so. Perhaps he truly did feel it. When he opened his eyes, the fire was but glowing embers, and he was alone in the gray darkness. His heart suddenly started again, and Hambre gasped, realizing he had not been breathing. How long had he been holding his breath? Never matter. He rose from his chair, bent to the woodpile and threw a log on the embers. As he prodded the regenerating fire with the poker, he stared at the redness blankly, knowing and feeling only that kiss which he had so longed for time untold. His hands began to shake until they spasmed so greatly that the metal poker dropped to the ground. Hambre dropped to the ground as well; for his knees were too weak to hold him. He knelt by the fire, feeling its faint warmth soothing his skin. He looked upon the twinkling embers, and smiled. Sighing with contentment out of place according to the present dilemma, he rose once again and walked to the window. Peering out of the glass and up at the night sky, he gazed upon the stars as they danced in the heavens. His hands clutched the windowpane and he leaned his forehead against the cool glass. He stared at his hands, his eyes fixing on the golden wedding band around his left ring finger. He smiled, closed his eyes, and thought of his daughter. "Cadence," he said aloud in the foreboding silence, "fear not my dear daughter. Where ever you are I will find you and avenge those who dare to harm you." Even though he was alone in the room, and no doubt Cadence was leagues away, he knew somehow that perhaps Cadence had heard him. The king straitened himself and walked out of the chambers and began in the direction of the stable. "Prepare my horse, servant. I plan to ride with my men." He ordered as he past a stable boy. The young lad nodded and rushed off ahead of him. The king passed another servant and stopped him in the hall. "Young man, find my royal advisor and tell him I am taking my leave and that I bestow the protection of this estate upon him in my absence." The young boy's eyes widened, but he nodded and rushed off as well. Dagan watched Japeth's eyes twinkled when they fell upon Sheren. The young woman was off on a tangent again, but at least this time it was a hospitable subject. Dagan did not really know what it was she was talking about, and he could care less. He was more concerned with studying his new partner than with taking part in the frivolous conversation. It was clear to Dagan that Japeth liked Sheren. What he did not understand was why. Why anyone would lust for that mouthy woman was a paradox to Dagan, and he decided he would like to keep it as such. Whatever went on inside Japeth's head was his business, even though Dagan was trying to sort out that murky miasma and determine if the boy could be trusted. Dagan regarded the knowledge of the attraction Japeth had toward Sheren and stowed it away; perhaps the information would be useful one day. His throat clenched when he saw Sheren look up at Japeth and smiled. Sheren never smiled! What made this man so worthy of her grace? The warrior felt his face flush with unexpected anger, which was soon overcome with surprise. Usually he did not let his feelings overcome him in such a way, and it surprised him that he allowed it to happen. What surprised him even more was the reason his feelings got the best of him; he felt jealousy. Jealous? Of what, Sheren? Bah! Dagan dismissed the idea and decided to let whatever was going to happen between Japeth and Sheren play out without his interference. Although he felt that he would lose the only woman in his life, he told himself that he was being selfish, that Sheren deserved a good man. Perhaps maybe she would cool down and learn to calm her temper with someone around to divert her attention. "Shenk will return tomorrow evening," she said suddenly, looking at Dagan. "When he arrives, we should leave to find the missing princess." "It is not that simple, Sheren, and you know it." Dagan interjected. "We are only three-four now with Japeth. We are going to have to assemble some of our old friends. The more help we have, the better our chances of rescuing the princess." "You do know that we have to find out where she is being held, Dagan." Said Japeth, who immediately lowered his eyes. He hated it when Dagan stared at him as if he were an insolent little child who had been caught stealing from the supper table. Dagan frowned, but he had to admit that Japeth was right. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the crackling fire in contemplation. How was he to find this princess when he knew not any idea of where she could be held captive. Rising from his seat, he paced back and forth across the room. Sheren stared at Dagan as he paced, wondering what he wanted to figure out. He looked at Sheren and their eyes met. His eyes shifted to the window that showed the starlight and dark night sky, and then back to Sheren. "Don't wait up for me," he said as he walked to the door. He opened the door, walked out into the night, and left Sheren alone with Japeth. She turned to face Japeth, a little bewildered, but he smiled at her and she could not help but smile back. "So what do we do now?" he asked. Sheren smiled again, raising her shoulders and scrunching her eyebrows in an "I-don't-know" look. Japeth was silent for a little while, uncertain of what to do. He had never been alone in the company of a woman, excluding Cadence and his mother. Sheren bit her lip, and began to blush. What was going on with her? She felt so uncomfortable around this young man. Perhaps it is because he is a stranger, perhaps because this was the only other man she had been around for almost a decade besides Shenk and Dagan. She was unused to male company, and it made her feel uncomfortable. "This is actually going to be the first quest I have ever truly been on, Japeth," interjected Sheren in an attempt to break the silence. Japeth's eyes were locked on her, and Sheren felt her face flush with excitement. His eyes were�indescribable. The way he looked at her sent chills racing up and down her spine. What in Hell was happening to her? "So this is what you call saving my dearest princess from the clutches of some evil-stricken, black-hearted fiend? A quest? You make it sound as simple as finding a lost artifact or some-sort!" Japeth spoke as if he were displeased, yet his voice did not rise in anger or distaste. This was a quality Sheren admired; a man who knew how to speak his mind and have his words respected. Sheren bowed her head and nodded. "Please do not speak so little of my dearest cousin. I love her much." "I meant no disrespect, friend." She said. Again she chided herself. Sheren would say what she wanted and would not be told how to act! If she thought little of a pansy little quest as saving some worthless damsel in distress. Anger rose in her, anger from the way she had been acting�like some meek little child being slapped on the cheek for a foul mouth. She was also displeased by the way Japeth had reproached her when she was trying to make conversation�something she usually did not do. What right did this little wizard have to admonish her so? She pursed her lips in a tight line until they were white. She did not understand why Japeth was so distraught over such a little lummox as this princess called Cadence�who was so foolish that she would let an invalid kidnap her right from under her father's nose. She shook her head. Women like that were not worth the stress. She rose from her chair lest her tongue get away from her and she say something that would taint the entire "quest" as it stood. She paced back and forth in front of the door, mumbling about how Dagan should not ever dare to run out on her again in the middle of the night. Japeth suppressed a grin. He suspected that his words of spite against what Sheren thought of Cadence's troubles had upset her, and having tasted her wrath earlier that day, he decided not to be so crude with her on such menial subjects. Yet, he had to admit she was quite comical when she was peeved and she was trying to hide it. Another smirk appeared across his face but he looked down at his lap to keep Sheren from noticing, lest he damage her pride even further. Sheren began to feel idiotic as she paced back and forth in front of the door. Biting her lip, she headed back to her seat and sat down, staring at the fire to prevent her self from making eye contact with Japeth. She could feel his eyes on her and, unaware, she flushed in slight embarrassment. This made Japeth only grin broader, but he bit his tongue so he would not speak with her jokingly. Japeth, my man, you must learn to deal with women! He thought to himself. His experience with women had been less than adequate. For all he knew he was making progress with Sheren definitely impossible. Sighing, he decided to try and make amends with the young woman. "So have you lived with Dagan your entire life?" he interjected, hoping that changing the subject would lighten the mood. "I have known Dagan and Shenk my entire life, having grown up with them and then trained with them under Master Beck�we tend to call him Pig Breath," Sheren stared into the fire, wondering how pitiful she sounded to Japeth. "And now�well, now I am here with them, acting as training partner and house keeper." "Your life seems simple," said Japeth, also staring into the fire. "Simple and happy. I find myself sometimes wishing for the same-have you ever wished you had more?" Now Japeth looked up to her face, wondering if his question was a bit much. Would she be offended? Oh well, he thought, it is too late now. Sheren bit her lip, refusing eye contact. Finally she said: "I have yet to meet a person who is content with their present way of life, Japeth." This was all she offered him, and so Japeth took the hint that she did not feel like pursuing this subject any further. He could already tell from the way she acted and the way she spoke to him that she was lonely. She hid behind her tough-lady mask, perhaps as a way to deceive people from the way she truly was inside. He had seen it before�perhaps within himself, although he did not act as a tough lady, more like a passive young lad who did not allow many to touch his true person. And now that he had found someone to relate to, he wasn't quite certain that he wanted to stay the way he had been his entire life. But how would he be able to tell her this? He was definitely not well versed in the area of communication; he spent much of his days in solitude, away from any contact-he preferred it that way. At least, he once did. The icy atmosphere they had created was becoming unbearable. Sheren was just about to get up off of her chair and leave until Purnia burst through the door, snorted, and came to his master. Japeth noticed Sheren's visible relief and joy as the tiger approached her. The animal had already begun to purr even before he reached Sheren. She held out her hand to the animal and scratched behind his ears. "I find it rather odd that you are able to control such a beast, Sheren." Japeth said, hopelessly scrounging for a topic for which to discuss. "And one so rare and dangerous�." Sheren smirked. "I would hardly call this exchange control. Purnia has a mind of his own; he is harder to control than a child." But what would I know of that? She thought to herself. I would know nothing of it. "I seem to think of him as my constant companion and confidant-one who will do as he pleases. I doubt that I would want it any other way," She looked down at her tiger and closed her eyes, smiling. "I doubt he would want it any other way, either." The tiger's head was now resting upon Sheren's lap. Japeth did not know what to think of the picture; a mother and her child. A very wild, very hostile, very beautiful pair if he ever saw one. "Well then," he said, feeling a little more at ease with the young woman. "Tell me how you came to know Purnia." He placed another log on the dying fire and settled back in his chair, anticipating the story ahead. He listened as she told him about when she ran away from Master Beck and his training grounds to face the world on her own for a while. She told of how she was caught by surprise and drugged by a group of roaming bandits who sold her to a traveling circus. She did not mention the reason she was sold for, and Japeth did not question her upon it; he felt it would come to the surface in time. She told him of how she was sent to clean a stall one night. She had to pretend she was still drugged-they had poisoned her food so that she walked around in a delirious, half-sleep state in order to keep her docile and obedient. She told of how she had figured out that they had been poisoning her, and she had exchanged plates of food with someone else's when they had not been looking. While she was cleaning the stall and forming a plan of escape, she stumbled across a tiny tiger cub. "It's eyes were closed still," she said. "He could not see me, but he knew I was there and he came to me. He crawled-quite literally-and pawed at my legs. He was alone. The mother was no where to be seen�she was probably being beaten in the training ring." She shuddered as she recalled the gruesome scenes of the ringmaster and his whip. "I did not think�I just picked up the little thing and ran. It was night, and I was draped in a dark cloak. The guards were occupied-always occupied�" Sheren faltered a little, and the shook her head and continued once more. "They did not notice me as I fled. I ran the entire night, not knowing or even caring to where I was going. I ran until I collapsed early that morning into a stream. Master Beck found me some how�I still have not been able to reason how he did�but he did find me and bring me back to the training center and nursed me back to health. Purnia has been with me ever since." "Were you always so adventurous Sheren? I had reason to think that pupils of such masters were disciplined and obedient." Japeth, of course, was merely jesting, but Sheren took it to heart. Pursing her lips, she stared into the fire. "When we were disobedient," she began, "we would be punished. One who overly misbehaved would have been cast out. A student subjected oneself of his or her own free will, it would be illogical if one were to go against master Beck's teachings repeatedly." She had become ghost-white, and again refused eye contact. "I was not punished for running away; for I had nothing to run away from. Master Beck saw my rendezvous as personal training and an experience to learn from. If I had been punished for going on a journey, the entire body if pupils would have left, for fear of losing their right to freedom." She took in three long gasps of breath, unused to the memories that were assaulting her. "Master Beck was a harsh and stern man, but he was not cruel." She added. Looking down at her lap and the tiger's head, she said: "He was the only father I have ever known, Japeth. Sometimes I wish he had been stricter with me than he had been." "Well, for whatever reason you wish this, I know for a fact that this Master Beck of yours was a good teacher. He seemed to have done just fine with Dagan, and even better with the woman whose company I keep." Japeth could almost hug himself; he was learning about this whole conversing-with-others thing, and he was mastering it. He grinned at her, and a timid smile appeared between Sheren's blushing cheeks. "Japeth, I like you." Sheren stated boldly. "You are different than I suspected you to be. I am glad that we came to know each other, and I hope that we can become friends." Now it was Japeth's turn to blush. "I am glad you feel this way, Sheren. I have not known many people, and have made even fewer friends." He did not know what else to say so he settled with gazing at her face as the firelight danced across it. Her wild beauty astounded him to the point of being dumb. He dared not move lest he ruin the perfect harmony of the moment. I wonder if she knows how beautiful she is, he thought to himself. He yearned to touch her face-to run his fingers down her cheek and across her jawbone, over her lips. "Yes," she mumbled almost incoherently (she was feeling the weight of his gaze upon her and blushed even deeper). "I believe we will become truly great friends." The night was chilly; almost autumn-like. Dagan ignored the temperatures and pressed on into the darkened woods. The night was young, but he dared not waste more time than needed. Pushing through a mass of entangled branches he came upon the clearing at which he had encountered the dragon, Maeve. Had that only been a few days ago? Yesterday, even? It seemed an eternity ago. It seemed as if a lifetime had been lived between these two days, and yet Dagan knew that much more lay ahead. An unwanted feeling of weariness crept over him; he caught himself wishing that he could be an ordinary man, with an ordinary life to which no one depended upon. He sighed, not entirely knowing what to do next. He had not known that he was out to call his dragon until he had wandered around in the night for a while. Now that he knew his purpose, Dagan needed to know how to perform it. You have the gift of calling, came a voice inside of him. Use it. But how could he? Dagan had never had a teacher for this unique art that had befallen him; more he tried to hide it than exercise it. Connecting with the dragons had just happened, he had no control of it. Perhaps it is time you seize your power and become your own master, the voice inside demanded. Weary of himself, Dagan slumped against a tree and rested his head upon his knees. Concentrate. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and cleared his mind. Silently he sent a prayer up to the heavens that whatever god was listening should help him; it was for a good cause, after all. Maeve, hear me. Dragon Maeve, I summon thee. Maeve�Maeve� Maeve� He shivered, fearing that he would receive no response. How could the dragon hear him? She was probably so far away and out of his reach. But just exactly how far was his reach, if there was one at all? Maeve, it is I, Dagan. Please hear me, I need your help. Maeve, come to me. Dagan, I come. Dagan jumped. He had lost any hope of contacting the dragon. When he heard her response, and so soon, he had nearly wet himself. Hope blossomed in his chest once more. Before, he had been carrying within him this burden of self-doubt. He had truly felt himself inadequate to the task at which Maj had set him upon, but now that Maeve had found her way back to him Dagan did not feel so lost and helpless. A sudden rush of wind attacked the small clearing as leaves and dust blew around in a small whirlwind, which was the draft from Maeve's monstrous wings. She let out a demon-like screech as she descended into the clearing slowly, circling about in tight circles and landing upon the ground with a colossal thud. She exhaled, bluish smoke escaping from her throat and out her mouth and nostrils. Maeve swung her massive head about to and fro, and then caught site of Dagan. Maeve smiled, or what Dagan assumed to be the dragon's equivalent of a smile. Her bared teeth glistened in the moonlight could have been mistaken for a menacing snarl, but Dagan knew Maeve's intentions were all but menacing-he hoped. It is pleasant to see you once again so soon, dear human Dagan." She greeted. I trust you are healed properly, my lady dragon? Dagan interjected tenderly. When she nodded, Dagan smiled. It is good to know. Tell me not that you called me here to question my welfare, dearest Dagan. I would not like to learn that I brought myself here to calm your conscience. Dagan smiled. Were females of all species the same? Maeve, is it so wrong for me to express concern for you, one of the few remaining of the dragons? But yes, you are true; I have called you not only to question your health. Dagan looked into Maeve's large silver eyes sternly. I hope it not too soon to ask for your help, dragon. There is a dilemma of which I have been chosen to correct, and I feel I can not do so unless I have your aid. Your help would be mostly appreciated. Dagan, Maeve chuckled, I owe you my life and nothing less. Whatever you need of me you shall have; I am forever in your debt and shall be your servant until the end of my days. She was silent for a moment and then seemed to laugh. A dragon's laugh was almost hideous, but it bothered Dagan little. Forgive me, I find my words odd, for I shall be the one to outlast you, if all goes well. A dragon's life span is, after all, much greater than a man's. But nevertheless, you and your memory will be served as long as possible for this dragon standing before you. You can not measure the gratitude I have at this moment, my friend, said Dagan as he sank to his knees before the gigantic beast. She craned her neck down so that her face was in front of Dagan's own. Tell me, she said. Tell me what troubles you. It is my duty to calm this wrenching emotion I sense within you. And so, Dagan told her all that he knew, and showed her with his mind's eye many things that he could not put into words. Maeve listened attentively the entire time, and when at last Dagan was finished, she said; Dagan, you serve a purpose far grander than you foresee. It is not for me to tell you, for I can barely describe it myself. Perhaps the Ancient One, Maj, knows all that is to happen, and perhaps she, too, has limits and knows only as much as we do. But do not let yourself feel this burden overmuch. A leader of men feels the weight of the world many times on his journey in life, but fear not, for I will be at your side through the entire battle. Dagan shivered as uncontrollable relief seeped through him. He would have thrown his arms around the dragon's neck, but he was unable to move. We must find her, he stated, and soon. This kingdom shall collapse before too long if the king neglects his stately duties while he searches for his daughter and heir. I would not want to be responsible for the downfall of this rich and healthy kingdom. We shall begin tomorrow when Shenk returns from his homestead. Tomorrow then, I shall be ready. Cadence shivered; it was almost time for her to face him again. If there had been any way for her to get herself out of this she would have taken it. She found herself wishing with all of her might that she had undertaken the same training that Japeth had taken; she would know how to harness the powers that lay dormant within her. She knew she couldn't possibly be as powerful as her cousin, but being half nymph at least did have its advantages. All Cadence could do now was wait. But wait for what? An ultimatum�a conclusion to this�this horrible predicament she had found herself in. Predicament to say the least, she thought. She shivered, knowing that there was the possibility that she was doomed to live her life locked up in this dark and dreary holding unfit for the princess that she was. Would her father be able to find her? Would she be rescued before-before anything happened? She had gone through these same fears over and over in her mind. What use was it torturing herself? Her life here would be torture enough; she need not assist it. Chiding herself would get her nowhere as well, the best she could do was try not to anger this man who had taken her captive. A rap came upon her door and despite herself, Cadence jumped. Her chambermaid bid entry, and Cadence heard the metallic click of the latch being lifted. The latch to the heavy door meant for keeping her enclosed like a prisoner. But that is what I am, she thought, a prisoner in a fancy cage. She trembled as King Zada entered the room looking as dark and menacing as ever. "Is my lady ready?" he inquired, although he knew she was, and even if she were not, he would make her so. "The cooks have prepared a nice meal for us, dear lady. It is time that we compliment them and partake of their cuisine." He held out his harm for her to take, and when she did not move, a guard pushed her roughly too him and forced her to take hold of it. "Come," he whispered to her. She could just barely taste his foul breath. "We have much to talk about." The food was served in a dining hall that looked as if it had not had many visitors. It was definitely not a room built for entertainment. But then again, Zada was not the type of ruler to entertain. Realizing this, it made her miss her father even more. Had it only been since last eve that she had been treading upon the soft grass of her beloved gardens? The dining hall, Cadence supposed it would be the proper name for it, was narrow and dimly lit. The princess had a feeling that most of the rooms in this fortress were dark and dingy as this one. A person could get a headache from such dim lighting, she thought to herself. Bad vision could result as well. She wondered why Zada preferred to lurk in the darkness. Because it suits him, she answered herself. Who would really want to see him in full light anyway? She sat herself down at one end of the table before a guard could roughly push her to her seat. She feared that she would be roughly handled unless she anticipated what the guards wanted her to do. Cadence refused to lift her face to look at Zada. The knowledge alone that he was in the same room as she, that he was breathing the same air as she, made her gut quiver with a sickness she couldn't describe. On unwanted impulse, she twitched her head upward, but not to the eyes of Zada. There was another pair of eyes staring at her from behind and above Zada's head. She almost gasped aloud, but she found herself too surprised to do so. It took her two moments to realize that she was staring into the eyes of�Japeth. Japeth? What was he doing here? Japeth! She almost shouted. Her mouth was numb. Her whole body was numb. Mixed emotions swam threw her. She could not sort out her insides. What on earth was he doing here�with�him? Her stomach lurched with revulsion when she though that perhaps it was Japeth's doing all the while. Could he be in allegiance to this evil soon-to-be-conqueror? Motives swam through her head one by one, and at the moment all of them seemed logical. His people were planning against her father; they tired of the rule of the humans and had decided to be the reason of her father's demise. But then, why would he choose Zada, a human, to take out their plans and not one of their own? Thoughts flew by in milliseconds and Cadence could barely sort them out. Perhaps Zada was just a pawn in the nymph's doings? Perhaps they controlled him, just as he controlled her. Was he weaker than he seemed? It would make sense; nymphs were not built for war, were not taught in the ways of overthrowing a kingdom, and were timid, anti-social creatures that preferred the dimmed forest light to the openness of the fields. So what a better reason then, to have a pawn do your work for you as you sit and bask in the glow of your master-mindedly-conceived plans? These thoughts ended abruptly when the eyes of the man behind Zada twitched. Cadence realized she had not inhaled since she had locked eyes with Japeth, and she sucked air in suddenly. The motion caught Zada's attention, as he had densely been oblivious to what had just been happening. He shifted his eyes from the fire to Cadence, and then realized that her gaze was not upon him. Zada turned in his chair and followed her gaze, and realized that Jariath was perched behind him. Zada caught himself from jumping; to learn that Jariath had been behind him without his knowledge was quite unnerving. The man knew this much; Japeth was not trustworthy. He cleared his throat and quickly regained his composure, rising to his feet and gesturing to Jariath. "My lady, may I present to you my esteemed associate and right-hand man, Jariath. He is, as it is called, expertly practiced in the areas of wizardry. The magical force behind your father's grand demise." So, it wasn't Japeth. Cadence visibly relaxed, but still felt uneasy. Why did this...Jariath�look so much like Japeth? The only difference was this guy's wild hairstyle which looked as if he had been struck by lighting with the way it was spiked upward. And his eyes...his cold, unwelcoming eyes. But other than that, his appearance was uncanny. She quietly decided not to reveal her thoughts, pretending as if she had never seen Jariath's face on another being before. She sighed forlornly and looked fixedly at her lap. "Will you not dine with us tonight, comrade?" offered Zada. Cadence noted that Zada's invitation was only halfhearted; he did not truly want Jariath to join them. From his poorly masked tone of voice, Cadence gathered that Zada actually feared Jariath. She quickly locked that piece of information away for later reference. Maybe she could use this knowledge to escape her captor. Do not get too hopeful, she told herself. It is most likely a dead-end. Jariath, knowing fully well that the invitation was empty, accepted it knowing it would annoy Zada immensely. The wizard looked upon the cowering princess and felt a stab of pity for her. She was, after all, akin to him. Halfblood is what they call us, is it not? He felt a moment of disdain for Zada, even though Jariath had planned everything this way, it seemed that the man was too low to be considered good enough to have human companions in his attempt to overthrow the Kingdom of the Sacred Forest. Did the man even know what he was setting himself up against? No, of course not, otherwise he wouldn't have tried to summon up the ambition. The kingdom, to the uninformed, appeared small and weak. But that was only the fortress itself. The power of the kingdom as a whole was more than enough to overthrow Zada, weakling as he was. Jariath shifted his eyes to Zada as the servants-slaves-began serving them, and smiled, masking his thoughts. I am the soul reason you have succeeded thus far, and I will be the reason for your defeat, one way or another. Inside of himself, he chuckled. Disgusting humans. I shall not rest until I have rid this beautiful land of them all. The feast was spectacular in the area of extravagant dishes, mainly a means of bragging of Zada's wealth. It no doubt did not impress her, being accustomed to extravagant meals such as this every day. She was a wealthy blue blood, after all. The meal consisted of slowly roasted wild duck, basted in a delicious honey sauce, wild carrots, asparagus, beats, and leeks cooked right in with the sauce, boiled potatoes with duck gravy, fruits of various kinds, hard bread and the best read wine in Zada's vintage to soak it in. Cadence, for one, had no appetite for any of it. She chased a wild carrot around her plate as she pretended to listen to Zada's boastful talk, of how he would capture the land and become High King, of how he and she would live in extreme luxury, and of all the heirs they would have. At that thought, Cadence truly did lose her appetite, and could not even look at her plate. Absently, she looked up to see two sets of eyes upon her, Zada's and Jariath's. Frowning, she concentrated on her wineglass, also untouched. She had noticed that Zada's had been emptied and filled frequently, and his continuously slurring speech gave witness to the amount of alcohol he had taken in. Fool! She hissed silently. Any intelligent man would have had the wit to know a man in his position should be on full alert at all times. Not that she would bring this to his attention; the drunker he became, the better for her. At least he would not touch her tonight for fear of impotency. She felt a wave of relief sweep through her, and Cadence notice Jariath lift his head in her direction once more. Her heart skipped a beat. Had he heard her thoughts? Biting her bottom lip and swallowing hard, she tried to keep her fear down. Who knows what this man could do? He was a mysterious wizard, more so than Japeth. At least she knew Japeth! What audacity this man had, creeping around in her head like that! She sent a wave of distaste in his direction, hoping he would pick up on it. She had no doubts that he had. Somewhere between the main course and the desert, Zada lapsed into a drunken stupor, as he stuttered out old battle songs. He blatantly swung his goblet of potent wine above his head, scattering drops of it here and there. Cadence could not help but watch him in disgusted awe; she had never before been in the presence of an intoxicated man. Being a delicate lady of prestige, society frowned against her being so exposed. She now understood why. Jariath had been studying her from the beginning. Again a stab of pity almost overwhelmed him as this sheltered young woman sitting so near him nearly balked as Zada demonstrated his ghastly manners. Jariath was appalled, of course, but had since grown use to the way his "boss" acted. Still, if he wanted any chance of gaining Cadence's trust, this was not the way to go about it. He had noticed the way she had tried to hide her fidgeting when she noticed him. Jariath wondered if he looked exceedingly vulgar to her, not really knowing how to rate himself in the attractiveness department-or lack thereof. But he doubted that he was truly despising; many a woman in the taverns had cast lusty glances in his direction. He had not taken the girls' silent offers, for more reasons than one. The darkened atmospheres of the taverns welcomed him, but he did not fully enjoy the�hospitality, nor the company. Too many humans. The meal was finished, but Jariath would not move. He would not move until Zada did. Feeling a strange sort of kinship with the girl, he decided it was up to him to make sure she slept alone and untouched tonight. Jariath cursed himself for having such a streak of weakness inside of him. But still, he felt responsible for the child-woman. She was still watching Zada's antics, most of which Jariath were ignoring. Finally, Zada lurched up to his feet, swaggering a little and almost fell over. He slammed both of his hands flat onto the table to keep himself upright. Jariath grinned on the inside, seeing this as good an opportunity as any. He leapt up and caught Zada by the shoulder, steadying the drunkard. "I trust it is time for you to take to your bed, highness." Instructed the wizard. The word "highness" slithered out of his mouth like a curse to Zada and not a compliment. Zada did not notice. A servant came obediently at Jariath's order and escorted him to his room. Four guards came to escort Cadence to hers. Four is a bit much, thought Jariath. But I suppose one can never be overcautious. |
| Chapter Five |