The Beast of Ildenwood: 12. A Delicate Situation

The Beast of Ildenwood

12. A Delicate Situation

The King of Samat is a gracious host, even in such turbulent times. By the time Deletrear receives word from Lahab and the Wanderer of Realms, he has bathed, has slipped into new embroidered robes gifted him by the King, and has eaten a hearty meal made by the talented Royal Chef. In fact, he is feeling quite rejuvenated – right up until the message arrives.

 

Guidebook Linkage System Alert

A Message has arrived!   Would you like to read it now?

 

“Yes,” Deletrear murmurs, rolling his sleeves up out of habit. Another floating parchment materializes before his very eyes, and he reads the contents of the message intently.

 

Message

This Message comes by way of the Noble Guardian of Ildenwood.

This Message has been sent to the Noble Guardian of Miraya.

Zerban is a traitor. He attacked us in Sowarr. He meant to take Muna, but we fought back. He will be found dead in his home. We are moving on to a safer location. There may be others lying in wait.

This message has been sent by way of the Spellcaster Deletrear’s Guidebook Linkage System.

 

Zerban?

Truthfully, he has never liked Zerban. Very few of them do, really, and it is a miracle the man has been allowed to continue being a Guardian at all, given his lack of initiative. Still, Sowarr does not have any issues, as far as the Guardians know, so nobody ever bothers Zerban about his less-than-stellar work ethic. But a traitor?

Well, when was the last time I met the man? He’s always been a slippery one, making last-minute excuses to get out of Guardian meetings…

Deletrear always thought that Zerban simply enjoyed shirking the more administrative duties – not that there were many important enough for anyone to trouble themselves with the chore of trying to secure his presence – but now it seems he had other reasons for keeping away. Perhaps the late Guardian had something to hide from Deletrear’s Invisible Eye all along.

How many other Guardians have slipped past Deletrear and his abilities? How many more have hidden themselves from his Eye? Mayhaps the Guardians have been too lax with their ranks of late.

With a low grumble, Deletrear strides down the marbled halls of the palace, the soothing sounds of crackling fire emanating from blue-flamed torches hanging against the walls. They do little to calm him. He comes to a halt in front of the King’s war room, where he spends almost all of his time strategizing for the war to the west.

“His Majesty is meeting with his generals and advisors, Noble Guardian. I cannot allow you entry,” a guard – young and fresh-faced, and altogether too pompous – says.

“I shall trouble him for only a moment of his time. Please tell him I have urgent news,” Deletrear tells the lad. “His Majesty will want to hear what I have to say.”

When the guard hesitates, glancing awkwardly at his partner, Deletrear waves his hand with a sigh. The mens’ spears zip out of their holds and fly through the air, clattering noisily on the floor. “If you shall not announce me, I will simply have to announce myself,” he says, and moves past the open-mouthed guards, pushing open the doors to the war room.

 

You have threatened the guards of the Royal Palace of Samat. Please desist and stand down, or action shall be taken against you.

 

Deletrear almost snorts. Threatened? Ruffled their little feathers, perhaps, he tells himself as he waves the message away.

Inside, a grand table with a map of the battlefield and its surrounding regions is the main focus of five men, each standing around it with pensive expressions, each wearing Samatian military regalia. “...and we may be able to retake the Ruins of Ateeq and their surroundings if we can make it work.” They glance up as he enters, and discussion comes to a halt.

“Deletrear, old friend,” the King greets him in surprise, stepping out from behind the table to meet him. “You look well. Have you any news from our young messenger?” he asks.

He does not refer to Lahab by title, and Deletrear takes note. “I have, in fact,” he replies, nodding in greeting to the other members of the King’s war room, who look upon him curiously. Not all of them are Guardians, and thus he cannot speak freely in their presence. “It seems the messenger has run into some issues at the border. Perhaps you would be willing to spare a moment of your time?”

“Of course,” the King replies, turning back to this men. “Please, gentlemen, continue on without me. This shan’t take very long.” Then, pushing his cape behind him, he turns and walks Deletrear out of the war room and into the halls. “Come with me, Deletrear,” he says quietly. He does not notice the guards straightening their backs in haste, having just returned to their posts, and Deletrear does not point it out. “We can speak in my study. We shall have more privacy there.”

The King’s study is a comfortably large room with floor-length window panes at the far end, before which stands a large wooden desk and chair, polished to perfection. Well-kept bookshelves line all of the walls not taken by windows, and two velvet armchairs sit before the desk, positioned at an inviting angle. It is here that the King motions for Deletrear to take a seat, while he moves around the desk and plops down into his chair.

“Tell me, Deletrear,” he says. The King, for all of his hospitality, has a way with requesting by way of order. There is no hesitation – simply a demand. “What of our young friend?”

“It seems she and her companion were attacked by one of our own not very long ago,” Deletrear tells him. “Zerban. He seems to have been after the artifact.”

The King’s brow furrows at this news. “Did he…?”

“No, he was not able to take it from them,” Deletrear assures him. “Not for want of trying, however. He is dead now. We will have to send someone to Sowarr to clear up the mess he’ll leave in his wake. The people – well, it’s up to you whether you want them to know about Zerban’s treachery.”

“Best not, for now,” the King says after a moment of consideration. He taps his fingers on the smooth surface of the table. Deletrear can almost see his reflection in the wood. “No, better not,” he says again. “I shall send someone to Sowarr to manage this issue. It shall be an accident – he fell from a ladder or ran into a knife or some such unfortunate event. The less people know that we know of his treason...” He trails off, meeting Deletrear’s gaze knowingly.

“Quite right,” Deletrear says with a sigh. “It seems our ranks have been infiltrated. We must proceed with the utmost care and diligence. I would submit that our young friend does not seek help from the Guardians en route to her destination. There is no way of knowing who to trust anymore.” Deletrear is speaking vaguely, even though the two of them are alone in the privacy of the King’s study. Still, he will not take any chances. In a castle, there are always ears.

The King presses his lips into a thin line, and this small movement tells Deletrear all he needs to know. Without the ability to trust in the rest of the Guardians, Lahab’s journey will be fraught with peril. She must avoid these foreign soldiers – these mercenaries – and the Guardians, and trust in nobody.

“Who can she trust?” Deletrear asks aloud, stroking his beard. “Who can we trust – someone who could not possibly have anything to do with this traitorous scheme – someone whose allegiances could only lie with us – someone whose mind could not have been corrupted by these strangers and their poisonous tongues…?”

The two Guardians are silent for a while. If the ranks of the Guardians have been infiltrated, then how are they to know that the Nobles have not? Or the common man? Traitors could be lying in wait anywhere, ready to assist the enemy in their plans. What did they offer them, to make them turn their backs on us?

He thinks back to the quest he had found in the two intruders’ Guidebooks. Money. Valuable items. That was what had moved them. Are those things enough to move the Guardians?

He wants to say that the most rational and obvious answer to that question is No. Guardians are meant to serve and protect their communities. In theory, they should be good, and whatever that entails. In practice, however…

“My son,” the King says at last, breaking Deletrear from his train of thought. He leans forward, clasping his hands together, and nods resolutely. “My son is a safe option. He is a skilled soldier, and is eager to help with the war effort. I would rather he helps the Guardian and her companion on their quest. They will need all the aid they can gather.”

“It is a dangerous exploit,” Deletrear says. He has no doubt the young man would be a good fit. He is not a Noble; nor is he a Guardian. But I’ll venture a prince is not so easily turned, because a prince is not so easily reached. He takes in the face of his old friend with curiosity. Neither is a king. I wonder… How does the enemy choose its agents?

“Not as dangerous as the battlefield,” the King replies. “It is true that my son has much to learn. He is young and easily driven by his passions. If I were to allow him to join me on the battlefield, I worry I may lose him. But he is also a skilled warrior, and a learned strategist. He may yet earn his medals alongside the Guardian and her Wanderer.”

“If you are certain, I will not object,” Deletrear says. “Any help would be much appreciated. I am certain your son will be an invaluable presence. However, there might be one way in which we can reveal the traitors among the Guardians.”

“Oh?” the King asks, his eyes twinkling with interest.

“Yes. A very simple method, in fact.” Deletrear leans back into the comfort of the armchair. “We simply call for an urgent meeting. With my Invisible Eye, I can try to look into all of their books. If anything suspicious stands out, I’ll remember who they are. We can have people ready to follow them home and report back to us. What say you?”

The King brings his hands to his mouth, deep in thought. “I say it’s a damn good idea,” he replies, “but there’s something else we can do, too. Something very effective.”

“Oh?” Deletrear asks this time.

“Yes,” the King replies with a scheming smile. “It’s quite simple, too, actually. We will simply need the presence and aid of Haq. But first, we’ll need to ensure he isn’t a traitor, either. Where is he these days, anyway?”

Deletrear waves his hand. “Oh, here and there,” he mutters. “The fool never settles down. It’s so difficult to track him, but I heard tell last week that he was running some more experiments at one of the Sisters.”

“Without permission?” the King asks, a hint of frustration in his tone. “Again?”

“Oh, you know how he is,” Deletrear grins. “He doesn’t even know what the word means! Besides, his experiments are harmless. He just likes to see the extent of his powers – which, in our case – and if my understanding of your plan is correct – will only serve to help us.” In fact, Deletrear also hears tell that Haq is paid a pretty penny to help officials and private parties solve more delicate issues. Theirs is a delicate situation of ever he has seen one; having the grumpy old fool around might help tremendously.

“Alright, alright,” the King says, shaking his head. “Get a hold of Haq and bring him back here. Once we are certain he can be trusted, we’ll call an emergency meeting among the Guardians. But we must be quick about it. If Zerban is dead, his… colleagues might already know of it. Besides, there are other Guardians in Sowarr, and we know not if they, too, have been turned against us. Who knows when the other traitors will be made aware?”

 

Quest: Find Haq | Deliver Haq to Palace
Goal	Find the Noble Guardian of Truth, Haq, and bring him to the Palace within a full day’s time.
Reward	You will be viewed as a reliable and capable person.
Additional Bonus	Ensure his loyalty.
Bonus Reward	You will have secured another ally.
Quest Owner	The King and Noble Guardian of the Kingdom of Samat

 

“I shall need one of your horses,” Deletrear says, accepting the quest.

“Choose one from the stables,” the King tells him, nodding. “They’re all quick and sturdy steeds, but let us hope that Haq is still to be found at the Sisters of Miraya. Otherwise...”

“Yes,” Deletrear mutters. Otherwise, finding the troublesome Guardian might become a journey in and of itself.

 

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