The Invisible Chains - Part 2: Bonds of Fear (7 page)

me he isn’t aware that I gave you such powers. He expects to take

command of the army unopposed. When the time comes, show him

the charter. He will be completely blindsided. If he doesn’t bow down

to the royal will, arrest him, but treat him with all the respect due to

a prince of the royal blood. Remember, he is still lord governor of the

Northern Marches. I have no intention of taking that title from him. I

want him chastised, not broken. I want him to learn. Send him to fort

Nira under armed escort. See to it that he travels, not as a prisoner,

but under his own banner.’ And that was about it.”

“How is that possible?”

“Beats me, to be honest. I’ve been thinking about it ever since,

and the only conclusion I can come to is that we do have an informer,

but not a traitor.”

“Your little plan to smoke him out misfired.”

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Andrew Ashling

Anaxantis smiled wryly.

“Yes, and it was such a clever little plan too,” he said, mocking

himself. He shrugged. “You can’t win them all, I suppose.”

“So, it was all for nothing?”

“Oh no, on the contrary. The strange thing is that the informer

played right into my hand. Father is convinced now that his ploy with

the secret charter will be sufficient to prevent me from confronting

the Mukthars. Ha. Well, let him think again. So, he plans to have me

arrested and escorted to Fort Nira? We’ll see about that.”

“It’s a bit of a mixed bag, but are your worries laid to rest, at least

a little bit? Pass the cheese, will you?”

“They would be, if we were on the eve of war — here you go

— but there is still too much time left. I know him. He will fret and

niggle and mull things over and over, and if he hasn’t a backup plan

in place already he will devise one.”

“So, what now?”

“I’m not sure yet. At one point I considered closing my southern

border and checking everybody who tries to get in. But I can’t spare

the men. I can’t start dividing up my army before it is well and truly

formed and operational.”

Hemarchidas looked at him with amazement in his eyes.

“Anaxantis, can you hear yourself talk?”

“Huh?”

“My border. My army. You’re talking as if you were an independent

sovereign. That’s the first time ever I heard you do that.”

Anaxantis smiled uneasily.

“Just a figure of speech, my friend, nothing more.”

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51

“Am I, though? Am I considering myself a reigning sovereign? Am

I on the verge of secession?”

“The informer,” Hemarchidas resumed. “What about him? How

are we going to find out who it is?”

Anaxantis shrugged.

“By accident or when he decides to come forward. It’s the

damnedest thing. I almost have the impression that, instead of

having a spy in our ranks, we have an undercover agent in the king’s

private counsel. I’d swear, whoever he may be, he is working for us.

Not against us.”

“Don’t exaggerate. We don’t know anything for sure as of yet.”

“You’re right, of course. But, Hemarchidas, I can’t live this way. I

am not going to try to second guess my friends anymore, searching

for plots within plots. There is no absolute certainty to be had. I am

going to operate from the premise that my friends love me and want

the best for me.”

“Hm. Many a king found himself with a knife between his shoulder

blades for abiding by that noble sentiment.”

“Maybe they deserved it then. And, by the way, who’s making

regal claims now?” Anaxantis laughed.

“You can laugh all you want,” Hemarchidas thought, “but I’ll be

watching your back nevertheless, since you yourself will not. I am

not as generous or as trusting in human nature as you are. I’ll make

it my business to see to your safety, my credulous little prince.”

“But I am not naive,”
Anaxantis mused.
“What I will do is try to

take their vulnerabilities away. And of course my own.”

52

Andrew Ashling

“Damn it. Why did it have to start raining hags and crones, as we

say in Ramaldah, just when we were coming back to our barrack? I’m

soaked to the skin.”

Obyann tried to shake himself dry.

“I, on the other hand,” Arranulf said sarcastically, “managed to

tiptoe between the raindrops and remain as dry as dust.”

He hung his drenched mantle on a peg near the door.

“Hi, guys. Is it raining?” Rahendo, who had been reading at the

table, asked.

“No, we went for a swim, fully clothed, just for the heck of it, you

unbelievable nitwit,” Obyann growled. “Are you reading your letters

again?”

“Oh no. These are new ones. I was just reading the one from

Alanda, my oldest sister.”

Obyann snorted.

“New ones?” he exclaimed, exasperated. “There hasn’t happened

enough in the whole world to fill all those pages. What are they writing

about? Every piss every cow has taken in the whole viscountcy of

Eldorn since you left?”

He stormed into his room. Arranulf went to his and returned a

few moments later, drying his hair with a towel with one hand, and

carrying a piece of parchment in the other.

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53

“Rahendo, two strange things have happened. First read this, if

you would be so kind. I found it on my bed.”

He handed the piece of parchment over.

“Oh, this is deplorable, most deplorable,” Rahendo lamented

after he had read it.

“I agree,” Arranulf stated calmly.

“Yes, most deplorable, he has spelled your name totally wrong.”

He held out the parchment. On it, in great, clumsy capitals, was

written ‘Landamir sux dix.’

“Most deplorable. I taught him how to write all our names only

last week and he has already forgotten.”

He looked at Arranulf as if the world were coming to an end and

it was all his fault.

“That’s what you find deplorable?” Arranulf said, raising his

eyebrows. “What about the sux dix part?”

“Oh, that too, but, you see, I thought the whole cks-concept

was just too complicated for him at the moment, and so I haven’t

explained it yet. That is not really his fault.”

“Never mind the cks-concept,” Arranulf said patiently. “What

about the meaning of the words?”

“That’s obvious. Actually, it is quite clever of him to use the x.

He already knows the x, you see. It was the first letter I taught him,

because basically it is just a cross and anybody can make a cross.

Really, it’s quite creative. The meaning stays perfectly clear. Of

course, it won’t do. I’ll have to teach him the correct way of writing

those words.”

“No, my little spelling Mukthar. The meaning of the words. Not

the way they are written.”

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Andrew Ashling

“Oh... He obviously wants to convey that you like taking the penis

of other guys in your mouth and then sucking on them. Oh... Oh...”

He looked up at Arranulf in utter shock.

“Oh... Oh...” Arranulf mimicked him. “Look, I don’t want this kind

of message appearing, nailed to every wall in Lorseth.”

“No, indeed, you don’t,” Rahendo commiserated. He looked at

Arranulf as at a hopelessly doomed man. “Oh, Nulfie, don’t be mad at

him. He really is a good guy. He just doesn’t like to show it. And he is

not like us. That’s not his fault. He was born that way.”

“Yeah, as long as he doesn’t use the noble art of writing to make

lewd messages about me, I couldn’t care less how he was born.”

“Tattling about my birth again, Landemere?” Obyann said in a

threatening tone, coming out of his room.

“Aha,” Arranulf exclaimed, pointing at the open door. “The second

strange thing. The latch of my door seems to have mysteriously gone

missing, while your door suddenly has two of them. Care to explain,

Ramaldah?”

Obyann shrugged.

“Nothing mysterious about it. I took your latch and fitted it to my

door.”

“You know about carpentry?” Rahendo asked.

“We know about a lot of things in Ramaldah. You would be

surprised. Like we know how to predict a storm. We can practically

smell it in the air. And this night we are going to have a doozy. So,

you,” and he pointed at Rahendo, “run right by my door, which will be

doubly latched, and go right to Landemere’s. I bet it will be invitingly

open. Dump your naked self in his bed.”

He laughed, glorifying in his own cleverness. Rahendo twitched

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55

nervously and looked at Arranulf.

“Would you mind terribly?”

“No, of course not,” Arranulf said soothingly. “If you feel more

safe with me, be my guest.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, my sisters are going to like you even

more.”

“Even more?” Arranulf asked.

“Here, read for yourself,” Rahendo said, giving him the last

parchment.

Arranulf read the last paragraph of Alanda’s letter and smiled.

“Your sister seems nice,” he said.

“Oh, she is,” Rahendo replied. “She thinks I’m still seven though.”

He sighed.

“What does she say,” Obyann asked.

Arranulf gave him a devastating look.

“Can I read it to sir slandering latch thief, Rahendo?” he asked.

“Sure, Nulfie. Eh, technically it’s only slander if the statement is

verifiably untrue.”

“What did he call you?” Obyann laughed out loud, before Arranulf

could respond to Rahendo’s legalese. “Did my ears deceive me, or did

he just call you Nulfie?”

“I think it’s cute,” Arranulf said defensively.

“Nulfie? Really? Nulfie?” Obyann bellowed. “Oh, I can’t wait till I

can write properly and tell father that soon we will be neighbors to

Duke Nulfie.”

He shook with laughter. Rahendo looked doubtfully at Arranulf.

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Andrew Ashling

“Maybe you shouldn’t read that to him after all,” he said, and tried

to get hold of the parchment.

“Oh no,” Arranulf said, keeping it out of his reach, “you said I

could read it to him and so I will.”

“Oh boy, oh boy.” Obyann laughed uncontrollably, “I can see it

before me: there comes Duke Nulfie on his horse Strulfie and his

sons Dulfie, Rulfie and Wulfie with their dog Snulfie. Oh, by the Gods,

my tummy is actually hurting.”

Rahendo looked shiftily around.

“Hm, guys, I just remembered that I forgot my thingamajig at the

castle when I came off duty. I’m going to get it now.”

He took his mantle from one of the pegs near the front door of

the barrack.

“You can get it later or tomorrow,” Arranulf said, mock concerned

but with a malicious grin. “You really mustn’t go now while, as they

say in Ramaldah, it is raining, eh...”

“Hags and crones,” Obyann volunteered.

Rahendo became very nervous.

“No, no, must go look for my thingamajig. Can’t be without my

thingamajig, you know.”

He bolted out of the door into the rain. Obyann shook his head.

“Is it me, or is he becoming more unbalanced by the day? I swear,

the little guy is allergic to fun. Every time we’re having a bit of a

laugh, he hauls off. The Gods may know what’s gotten into him now.

Anyway, what does that sister of him write?”

“Oh yes,” Arranulf smiled. “You’re going to love this. Ahem. Let

me see. Ah, yes.” He read out loud. “We were so happy that your

friends let you bunk with them in the barrack of the head pages so

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57

that you would be safe from those big bullies. Chulonda says not to

worry though, because she will beat them up for you when we come

visit you. Before I forget, remember that a young nobleman washes

his special boy parts every day and always wears clean underwear.

Also, don’t forget to thank Nulfie from all of us for taking such good

care of you. He seems a nice—”

Obyann again broke out in a loud belly laugh.

“He even told his sisters. I don’t believe this. Soon it will be all

over Ximerion. Bards will sing about the awesome deeds of Duke

Nulfie. Oh boy, this is too much. I’m going to piss myself.”

Arranulf looked coolly at him.