named your contacts before,” said Cannath warily. “Why now? I certainly don’t want to have that information should the Qra ’z im come looking!”
“Ah, forgive me, sire. Perhaps I am becoming ill after all.”
“Perhaps you are, old friend. I believe we shall soon be rid of those cursed Qra ’z im , anyway.”
“How so, My Prince?”
“While you were out missing your appointments,” began the prince wryly, “Gavinos brought me some very good news.”
Devoricus did not want to appear over-eager to hear Cannath’s good news, but was having a hard time dealing with the thousands of minute pieces which comprised a single expression on a human face. Instead, he struggled to maintain a stoic appearance and did not ask further, expecting the prince to explain. He was relieved when Cannath did just that.
“A powerful warlock in the employ of Shalthazar, the Prophet-General of Ilian Nah, is on his way to help us remove the Arnathians by force!”
“That is wonderful news, Sire.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Cannath thought he saw Hugh’s eye twitch. “Why don’t you return home, Hugh? You look like you could use some rest.”
“I beg your pardon, Sire,” offered the immortal, trying his best to appear ill; a difficult task as immortals are immune to physical ailments. “I would not miss the opportunity to help you destroy your enemies.”
“Indeed, I had hoped you would see it that way!” the prince smiled broadly, apparently accepting the ruse. He walked over to his old friend and put his arm around the man and wrinkled his nose in disgust. “You stink, Hugh! Go home and have a bath!”
“I will, My Prince,” replied the Cjii. “As soon as I am no longer needed.”
“What celebrations we will have when the castle is mine and I am crowned Thayne of Hybrand!” the prince went on, pretending not to notice the odor.
“It will be a joyous occasion, Sire,” the immortal paused, appearing humble. He did not fall for the obvious trap; a close confidant could not be expected to “take ill” on the eve of battle. “What do you require of me to facilitate your plan?”
“It would have been nice to know what your contact was going to report regarding the movements of Arnathian forces,” he said dryly. “But, I do not think it will matter. It seems our new allies are far more powerful than the Arnathians. We will crush them in one fell swoop!”
“I see. And how do I fit in with these plans, Sire?”
“I have sent my battle plans to Commander Coronus, who is on his way here with an army and a fleet of warships . I have not received word from this Coronus yet, which concerns me somewhat.”
“A fleet?” asked Hugh, appearing surprised. “That is wonderful news! How many troops do you expect?”
“Enough to crush the Arnathian forces that are here!” said the prince gleefully. He was so caught up in the excitement of the moment that he didn’t recall already explaining this to Hugh.
“How soon do you expect him?”
“Two days, perhaps sooner.”
“So soon? Are the troops ready?”
“Of course, Hugh. The Royal Guard is ready and waiting. They have been drilling in secret for weeks. But they are ready to fight now.”
“Excellent!” offered Devoricus, feeling confident enough to attempt a slight smile. “If you do not mind, I will return to my quarters and rest.”
“Yes, of course.” With a nod from Cannath, Hugh turned and left his prince’s office.
Cannath pondered what had just transpired. Something was definitely wrong with Hugh. But what ? He wondered with ire. Hugh always called him “prince” in private. He thrummed his fingers on the edge of his desk, thinking. But thoughts of the arrival of Commander Coronus soon overtook concern for his old friend and his mind drifted back to the impending liberation.
Cannath smiled at the thought of beating back Arnathian troops with Cklathish men. And he had a special plan for Craxis, should he ever get his hands on
“Ah, forgive me, sire. Perhaps I am becoming ill after all.”
“Perhaps you are, old friend. I believe we shall soon be rid of those cursed Qra ’z im , anyway.”
“How so, My Prince?”
“While you were out missing your appointments,” began the prince wryly, “Gavinos brought me some very good news.”
Devoricus did not want to appear over-eager to hear Cannath’s good news, but was having a hard time dealing with the thousands of minute pieces which comprised a single expression on a human face. Instead, he struggled to maintain a stoic appearance and did not ask further, expecting the prince to explain. He was relieved when Cannath did just that.
“A powerful warlock in the employ of Shalthazar, the Prophet-General of Ilian Nah, is on his way to help us remove the Arnathians by force!”
“That is wonderful news, Sire.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Cannath thought he saw Hugh’s eye twitch. “Why don’t you return home, Hugh? You look like you could use some rest.”
“I beg your pardon, Sire,” offered the immortal, trying his best to appear ill; a difficult task as immortals are immune to physical ailments. “I would not miss the opportunity to help you destroy your enemies.”
“Indeed, I had hoped you would see it that way!” the prince smiled broadly, apparently accepting the ruse. He walked over to his old friend and put his arm around the man and wrinkled his nose in disgust. “You stink, Hugh! Go home and have a bath!”
“I will, My Prince,” replied the Cjii. “As soon as I am no longer needed.”
“What celebrations we will have when the castle is mine and I am crowned Thayne of Hybrand!” the prince went on, pretending not to notice the odor.
“It will be a joyous occasion, Sire,” the immortal paused, appearing humble. He did not fall for the obvious trap; a close confidant could not be expected to “take ill” on the eve of battle. “What do you require of me to facilitate your plan?”
“It would have been nice to know what your contact was going to report regarding the movements of Arnathian forces,” he said dryly. “But, I do not think it will matter. It seems our new allies are far more powerful than the Arnathians. We will crush them in one fell swoop!”
“I see. And how do I fit in with these plans, Sire?”
“I have sent my battle plans to Commander Coronus, who is on his way here with an army and a fleet of warships . I have not received word from this Coronus yet, which concerns me somewhat.”
“A fleet?” asked Hugh, appearing surprised. “That is wonderful news! How many troops do you expect?”
“Enough to crush the Arnathian forces that are here!” said the prince gleefully. He was so caught up in the excitement of the moment that he didn’t recall already explaining this to Hugh.
“How soon do you expect him?”
“Two days, perhaps sooner.”
“So soon? Are the troops ready?”
“Of course, Hugh. The Royal Guard is ready and waiting. They have been drilling in secret for weeks. But they are ready to fight now.”
“Excellent!” offered Devoricus, feeling confident enough to attempt a slight smile. “If you do not mind, I will return to my quarters and rest.”
“Yes, of course.” With a nod from Cannath, Hugh turned and left his prince’s office.
Cannath pondered what had just transpired. Something was definitely wrong with Hugh. But what ? He wondered with ire. Hugh always called him “prince” in private. He thrummed his fingers on the edge of his desk, thinking. But thoughts of the arrival of Commander Coronus soon overtook concern for his old friend and his mind drifted back to the impending liberation.
Cannath smiled at the thought of beating back Arnathian troops with Cklathish men. And he had a special plan for Craxis, should he ever get his hands on
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