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"Why?" asked Prince Derri. "I mean if I had such power, I doubt that I would ignore it."

"The power is stronger than any one person," explained King Hector. "It has the ability to heal, but it is just as capable of killing. Princess Orenda was terrified of it. She said that it could consume the wielder."

"Do you mean if she didn't cast the spell properly it could backfire on her?" inquired Prince Antion.

"No," King Hector shook his head. "It was more complicated than that. I never completely understood her, but I got the impression that the Talent should never ever be used for nefarious purposes. To do so was akin to selling your soul. A wise person just never attempted it."

"The Talent is not something to be toyed with," King Caedmon said in summation. "Let us go meet with the others and find out what is news in the Land of the Nine Kingdoms."

"Be careful with your use of the horse language," warned King Hector. "Most of the royalty of the Land of the Nine Kingdoms have been to the horse camps in Odessia at one time or another."

The princes put on their helms, and the four men left the suite. They made their way to the library, which was crowded with foreign dignitaries as well as influential Borundans. Kings and princes immediately swarmed around King Hector and King Caedmon to welcome them. The two princes moved unobtrusively to a corner so that they could watch the comings and goings without getting in the way.

They were in the corner for only a few moments before a young, olive-skinned man approached them. The man's long black hair was tied in a long tail with a strap of leather. He walked right up to Prince Antion and then turned around to face the center of the room, effectively blocking the prince's view of the room. Antion's hand reached out to nudge the man aside so he could keep his father in sight, but the dark man instantly seized the prince's hand. Antion could feel the man's fingers roaming over his palm and knew his identity had been discovered. He violently jerked his hand back away from the man.

The man stepped forward two paces and clasped his hands behind his back. His fingers started moving swiftly. Prince Antion immediately turned and walked out of the library. The man followed him, as did Prince Derri. Outside the library, Prince Antion found a narrow corridor and slipped into it. The other two men followed.

"What game are you playing at, Prince of Arin?" asked the dark man.

"Umal," sighed Prince Antion, "you are endangering me. I do not desire for anyone to know that I am here. Come to my quarters later and I will explain, but you must not give us away."

"Us?" chuckled Prince Umal. "So this must be Prince Derri. I did not recognize him. I should be severely punished for that."

"We will punish you ourselves if you let our identities be known," laughed the Salacian prince."

"This is serious, Umal," pleaded Prince Antion. "I would love very much to visit with you and have fun, but I must keep my eye on my father at all times."

"Then you are expecting trouble," the Odessian prince surmised. "Say no more. Go in peace and do your duty. I will also keep a close watch on both of your fathers. I will let no one harm them."

"Thank you," Prince Antion said softly as he moved past his Odessian friend to return to the library. "Come to our rooms tonight. I do want to see you."

* * *

"Why were bodyguards allowed into the palace?" demanded Naveena. "I thought I had given strict instructions to the contrary."

"I had no choice," answered General Ortega. "King Caedmon and King Hector were adamant about it. To refuse them a single guard each would have been a serious diplomatic blunder. We have just had an assassination in this palace, Regent. They refused to enter without a guard. Should I have turned them away?"

"The general is correct," interrupted Prince Zinan. "You wanted our defenses up to test the reactions of our visitors. You have accomplished that, but to push the issue further would have created two very powerful enemies. The general acted properly."

"I do not recall asking for your opinion, Zinan," scowled Naveena.

"You had me trained by the master of protocol," retorted Prince Zinan. "With Lavitor dead, I am now the master of protocol. It is my place to advise the Crown when their actions are dangerous."

"Are you assuming to take Lavitor's place?" snapped Naveena.

"Not in all respects," smiled Prince Zinan, "but I will be the king's advisor to King Garrick when he is crowned. You would be well advised to utilize my knowledge in the meantime. Don't you agree, General Ortega?"

"Very much so," the general sighed with relief. The general was pleased that he was no longer the object of the regent's scorn, and that the young prince had backed him up.

"Very well," the regent huffed after a moment's pause, "but your role is limited to advice. Do not forget who is in charge of this country. Your time may come, Prince Zinan, but it is not your time right now."

Naveena turned and marched away leaving Prince Zinan standing with the general.

"I never knew that she had a temper," the general said softly. "Thank you for standing up for me."

"No thanks are necessary," replied the prince. "Your position was correct and well executed. Tell me why those two kings chose to act as they did."

"I am not sure," frowned the general, "but I believe it was because of the defensive measure at the gates. A single guard each is hardly sufficient to safeguard them from danger, so I think it was more of a statement on their part. I believe they were trying to say that they would not be bullied or made fearful."

"An excellent analysis, General," nodded Prince Zinan. "Then you surmise that they saw our defenses as a test for them?"

"I can't say that for sure," shrugged the general. "King Caedmon is known for having an uncanny sense of danger, and I did instruct my men to be alert for the slightest misstep of the arriving guests. One can only suppose that the Arinites and the Salacians were watched very closely as they proceeded through the city. I suspect that King Caedmon reacted to that."

"Good," nodded Prince Zinan, "then we have accomplished what we set out to do. I think you can have your men stand down now."

"I cannot do that," frowned General Ortega. "The regent would have my head if I did such a thing."

"Perhaps," shrugged the prince, "but I doubt that she will even notice. The choice is yours."

Prince Zinan strode away without further words. He made his way straight to the royal bedchamber where Prince Garrick had already retired for the evening. He walked in without knocking and perched on the edge of Garrick's bed.

"You did well tonight, cousin," smiled Prince Zinan. "You will make a fine king."

"Thanks, Zinan," grinned the Crown Prince. "You were right with each piece of advice. How did you learn so much about the other kings and princes? Lavitor never spoke to me about them."

"I did not learn about them from Lavitor," grinned Zinan. "For that type of information you talk to other people, like servants and soldiers."

"Servants?" frowned Garrick. "What could they possible tell you?"

"Servants are invisible to royalty," laughed Zinan. "You can't imagine what they see and hear. And soldiers hear even more interesting things from the visiting foreign soldiers. If you truly want to be a good spy, you must learn to use all sorts of sources for your information."

"I have never been very interested in being a spy," shrugged Garrick. "Why bother when you can be king?"

"Then we shall make a great team," proposed Zinan. "I will travel the Land of the Nine Kingdoms and set up a spy network that will keep information flowing into Borunda. You can be the king who takes advantage of it all."

"What for?" questioned the Crown Prince. "I will already be able to do whatever I want in Borunda, and your information will not help me with that."

"You have to learn to think in larger terms," grinned Zinan. "Why rule over one country when you can rule it all?"

"All of the Land of the Nine Kingdoms?" asked Garrick.

"Why not?" replied Zinan. "I can make you the greatest king that has ever lived. Long after you are dead, the scrolls will tell the tale of the boy king who united the whole world under one banner. They will name cities after you."

"You're a dreamer," laughed Garrick.

"Have I been wrong yet?" Zinan asked seriously. "Why do you doubt me now?"

"You are serious, aren't you?" inquired Garrick.

"Deadly serious," nodded Zinan. "We can do it. The two of us."

"Then we shall do it, cousin," grinned Garrick. "What about Naveena?"

"You let me worry about Naveena," declared Zinan. "For now she is useful, but the day will come when she is no longer necessary. I will take care of her."

Prince Zinan returned to his own chambers after visiting with the Crown Prince. He had not been in his room more than a minute before the door blew open. Naveena entered the room and a harsh cold wind slammed the door shut. Zinan looked up bewildered. He had never seen the wisper use the Talent in such an obvious way.

"Isn't that display of power a bit risky?" quipped the prince. "I could have had someone in my room."

"And what if someone were here?" retorted Naveena. "I am a known wisper. Why would anyone be surprised to see me wield the Talent? It is only you who must guard against such discovery."

Zinan shrugged in resignation and turned his eyes away from Naveena.

"You are an extremely intelligent boy, Zinan," Naveena began in a cold, calculated tone, "but you are still a boy. You have mastered many things, but you believe that you are master of all things. You are wrong, and such mistakes can cost you your life."

The harsh words from Naveena were cutting, and they pierced the prince's defenses. He tried to soften their blow by making light of the wisper's words.

"Nothing is going to kill me," boasted the prince. "You are just mad that I corrected you in front of General Ortega. Leave me alone. I need to sleep."

"Corrected me?" snapped Naveena. "You fool. Do you think I give a wit about what is right and proper protocol? I gave orders to the army, and the general disobeyed them. He should be hung, but instead you rise to his defense."

"What is the big deal?" scowled Zinan. "So the general let two lousy guards enter. So what?"

"Two lousy guards?" mocked Naveena. "You know better than that, Zinan. You felt his presence in the throne room the same as I did."

"The Arin guard?" the prince asked with concern. "Explain yourself."

"Explain?" sneered Naveena. "But I thought you already knew everything. Why should anyone have to explain something to you?"

Zinan had felt a strange presence in the throne room, and that presence existed in a human body, the body that was hidden behind the facemask of the Arin guard. It was a feeling unlike any Zinan had ever experienced and it scared him, but he had passed it off as just an odd feeling, until now.

"Please, Mother," pleaded the prince. "Tell me about the Arin guard."

"So now I am your mother," taunted Naveena. "You have not called me that in years. Let me hear you say it again."

"Mother!" begged Zinan. "Do not taunt me. Tell me what I must know."

Naveena did not reply immediately. She moved further into the room and sat in a chair by the window. For several long moments she stared out the window in silence as if contemplating what to say. Prince Zinan knew the wisper well enough to remain quiet.

"That man is filled with the Talent," Naveena said softly. "It is amazingly strong within him."

"So the guard was truly a mage?" queried Zinan. "Is that what I felt?"

"No," Naveena shook her head. "He is not a wielder of the Talent. Of that I am sure. I would have sensed a mage in our midst. No, Zinan, this man is something entirely different."

"Then what if he is not a mage?" Zinan asked with frustration. "Either one has the Talent or one does not. There is nothing in between."

"That man does not have the Talent," explained Naveena. "The Talent has that man."

"I have no idea what it is that you are trying to tell me," Zinan sighed.

"There are two faces to the Talent, as there are to all things," stated the wisper. "There is night and day, dark and light, strength and weakness, friend and foe, and evil and good. Many times there is also a gray, a mixing of two opposites, such as dawn and dusk. Such is how the Talent exists. Most people who hold the Talent are gray. They are a mixture of the two extreme poles, and they are capable of moving slightly in one direction or the other. Very rarely does one move out of the gray area where the Talent is concerned. You and I are among those rare exceptions."

"Nonsense," scowled Prince Zinan. "You are not going to go talking about that foolish theory of right and wrong again, are you? We've had this conversation before, and I see nothing wrong with using the Talent for whatever purpose I desire. You certainly have used it for whatever you wanted."

"So I have," admitted Naveena, "but not to the same degree as you. Do you take me for a young fool? Do you think I am not aware of how you use the Talent? Do you know how often I have had to make up stories to explain the sudden disappearance of certain female servants of the palace staff? You are intelligent, Zinan, but do not think that makes everyone else stupid."

"So I go to extremes now and then," shrugged the prince. "What does that have to do with the Arin guard?"

"The Talent will try to correct for extreme imbalances," explained Naveena. "Many times the offending wielder of the Talent will go mad and kill himself, sometimes not. If the offending wielder cannot be corrected directly, the Talent will use others to complete the task."

"Are you saying that the Talent is using that guard to get back at me?" questioned Prince Zinan.

"That is what I suspect," nodded Naveena. "The man may not even know that he is being used, and I could be wrong about the whole thing, but we cannot afford to take any chances, can we?"

"I take chances on nothing," Zinan said with determination. "That man will never live to leave the palace."

"No," Naveena replied with alarm. "Think before you act, Zinan. Our plan is to rule the entire world, and for that we need the armies to do it. If you strike at this man now, you will be declaring war on Arin before we are ready. The attack must not occur in this palace, nor must it be linked to Borunda or us. All that we need to do right now is to determine his identity. There will be plenty of time to kill him later, and it can be done in such a fashion as to shield us from scrutiny."

"I understand," Zinan nodded thoughtfully. "I will take care of it."

"Do so with discretion," Naveena advised. "Appearances are always important."

"And rightfully so," smiled Zinan. "That brings up an interesting topic. I do not think it is in our best interests for you to remain as regent for very long."

"What are you talking about?" balked Naveena. "I just became regent, and you are already talking about my stepping down?"

"Having you become regent five years ago would have been the appropriate path to take," shrugged Zinan, "but now it is a hindrance. Garrick fancies himself a great warrior, and in all fairness, he is not bad with a sword. If we are to raise a great army, I think it would be helpful for him to be king and lead that army. As long as he is seen as a child requiring a regent, the army will not be inspired."

Naveena was outraged by the rejection, but she saw wisdom in Zinan's words. For several long minutes, she gazed out the window into the darkness. Finally, she smiled and nodded.

"I offer you a compromise," she stated calmly. "I will serve as regent for one full year, after which Garrick will be crowned and I will become the king's advisor."

"I am to be the king's advisor," interrupted Zinan. "That was promised to me."

"As the regency was promised to me," spat Naveena. "Let me finish. I will serve as king's advisor for two full years, at which time, you will assume the position."

"And what am I to do for three years while you play out your fantasy?" scowled Zinan.

"You will be having the adventure that you have longed for since you were a child," smiled Naveena. "You will have three years to set up your spy network while we build the world's greatest army. It is a great plan. Everyone gets what they want."

Prince Zinan sat quietly for a few minutes and then he began nodding.

"That is acceptable," he smiled. "I will need a rather generous allowance for my activities."

"Of course," grinned the regent. "You shall have everything you require. The entire resources of Borunda will be at your disposal."

* * *

The gathering numbered over five hundred people. They filled the library of the Imperial Palace in Tarent as well as the meeting rooms on each side of it. The visitors gathered in ever-changing small groups as old acquaintances were renewed and news from distant cities was spread. There had not been a general gathering of the rulers of the Land of the Nine Kingdoms in fifteen years, and while news did eventually spread across the land, it was at gatherings such as this that everyone became up-to-date on happenings everywhere. King Caedmon stood in a small group in the library listening to King Gregory, the ruler of Vineland.

"It was on that very journey along the Caxon-Laborg road that the princess fell ill," related King Gregory. "It was decided that a sledge needed to be built as she was far too weak to ride. As luck would have it, the previous spring's flood of the river had swept away the most available timber, so several men swam across the river to the jungles of Lom to obtain the required wood. Mere moments after the men disappeared into the foliage, the screams began. They were the most horrifying screams of death."

King Caedmon was so engrossed in the tale that he almost missed seeing King Rihad of Odessia join the group directly across from him. He smiled and nodded to the king of the horse country and then noticed the Odessian's fingers moving rapidly. With a heavy frown upon his face, King Caedmon quietly slid away from the group and exited the library. Moments later King Rihad casually appeared next to him.

"What danger?" King Caedmon asked softly.

"I am not sure," replied King Rihad as he toyed absently with the long mustache that hung down both sides of his mouth. "I have been asked several times this evening about the identity of the Arin bodyguard. At first it seemed like mild curiosity, but I now believe it to be something more nefarious."

"Just the Arin bodyguard?" asked King Caedmon. "Did no one ask about the Salacian bodyguard?"

"No one," replied the king of Odessia.

"And who is doing the asking?" inquired the Arin king.

"Upon reflection," King Rihad replied as his eyes darted to see if anyone was listening, "the question was asked each time by a Borundan. Several of the advisors asked. General Wikner brought up the question, as well as several servants. Whoever is after the information is rather desperate to use servants to seek the answer. Lavitor, however bad he turned out to be, would never have allowed such a breach in protocol as a servant questioning a foreign dignitary."

"I still have difficulty believing that Lavitor could have committed such a crime," King Caedmon shook his head, "but that is not germane to the problem at hand. I have suddenly become rather ill at ease in the capital of Borunda. Perhaps it is time for me to leave."

"Our respects have been paid," nodded King Rihad. "I would consider it an honor to ride with you as far as Koar. If someone means your party ill, I will stand by you."

"I know that and appreciate it greatly," smiled King Caedmon. "I assume that you do know the identity of my bodyguard?"

"There is little you can hide from one who has trained your kin in the art of horsemanship," grinned the Odessian king, "but I doubt if anyone else knows."

"King Hector knows," confirmed King Caedmon, "as does your son."

"I did presume as much," nodded King Rihad. "Seeing as I also recognized the other bodyguard, King Hector's knowledge does not surprise me. As for Prince Umal, he has inherited my good senses."

"You are a good man, Rihad," smiled the Arin king. "Our three parties will leave at first light in the morning."

"And we shall ride like the wind," grinned King Rihad. "We had better get back to socializing before anyone suspects that we are onto them."

King Caedmon nodded and walked away. He mingled with the other guests for the rest of the day, but his mind was on the puzzle presented to him by the king of Odessia. Why was the identity of his bodyguard so important to the Borundans, and why were they trying to discover the truth through subversive means? No one had directly approached either Antion or himself to ask the question, and that meant that they did not want to be obvious about their curiosity, but that also indicated a nefarious reason for desiring the knowledge. Why was his son of special interest?

Eventually, King Caedmon could no longer hold any pretense of being interested in the conversations. He nodded to his bodyguard and they returned to their suite.

"You seemed rather distracted this afternoon," commented Antion as he removed the helm. "Is something bothering you?"

King Caedmon momentarily considered trying to shield his son from the truth, but he quickly discarded the thought. He had faith in Antion's abilities, not only with weapons, but also with reasoning.

"The Borundans are very interested in your identity," stated the king. "It is not merely a passing curiosity. It is focused only on you and not on Derri. Do you have feelings why this might be?"

"None," Antion shook his head.

"Did anything strange happen today?" questioned the king.

"Nothing that I can think of," shrugged the prince. "No one even tried to speak to me. I did have splitting headaches several times, but they never lasted for long. I guess I am not used to wearing a full helm all day long."

"Headaches?" frowned King Caedmon. "Can you describe how they felt?"

"Like a metal band around my head," replied Antion. "It felt like a narrow band that could be tightened or loosened. A couple of times it felt as if someone had tightened the screws. It was nothing, really."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," King Caedmon sighed. "We are leaving Tarent at first light. The Odessians will be riding with us as far as Koar, and the Salacians all the way to Anatar. I no longer feel comfortable here."

"I admit that I won't miss standing around all day with that helm on," replied Antion. "I think I am ready for some food and sleep."

"I will have food brought to the room," said the king. "You will sleep tonight in the master's room. I will use the other one."

"No," argued Antion. "If danger is present around us, I will not allow you to endanger your life to save mine. You are the King of Arin, and I will protect you with my life."