The past few hours had sped by with Allyceus in the throes of various forms of physical activity, and yet he still found too much energy running through him. He stood dressed in an unlaced shirt and breeches, arms crossed as he looked out of a window; set within his view was the Viper’s Fang, a town that had been a mining village in the times of old, but now had grown in something resembling splendour within the embrace of the Low Mountains.

The people of the pastures were a stubborn folk, and this was clear from the cold breeze that swept in through the open window. It would have been the simplest thing to get technicians into the castles so they might make the place easier to live in — air gems to banish the wind and fire gems to provide warmth — but doing so would lose them an imagined autonomy.

It was why the marriage between Matthaeus and the oldest daughter of the House of Burk, Margaret, had been important. The union would have meant closer ties between the Earls of the Pastures and the royal family, and it would have further secured the ties of Althor as a nation.

But Matthaeus had disappeared into the night never to be seen again, and though Earl Samuel seemed to be reacting to the change in circumstance with aplomb, it was unclear if the same could be said for the rest of the high lords of Althor.

Allyceus took a deep breath and let it out in a huff, a fist opening and closing, his knuckles cracking.

Matthaeus had disappeared, leaving all of them in a much worse off position when they needed him, and now the Fates had retold the same stories with a slightly different cast of characters. The Champion was gone, leaving Allyceus, Odysseus and Althor as a whole worse off.

Their plans had not been well laid, but for a moment Allyceus had allowed himself to hope that they might succeed. But to fail so fully filled him with a burning fury.

Allyceus turned and saw Cybill’s sleeping form, for a moment he couldn’t help but smile before a yawning emptiness stretched in his stomach, growing bigger and squeezing out all life and happiness.

Hope was a dangerous thing and he had lost himself within its embrace to now be crushed by the consequences. He had imagined a future where Cybill would be at his side and he would be king. Champion Jordan would have been a presence, sure, but it would have been at the periphery — the man was of the personality that he would have likely enjoyed such a role.

At least that’s what I believed, Allyceus thought darkly.

Moving with practised quiet, he went over to a cupboard and retrieved his armour. After a breath he tapped into the sprawling web of impressions against his mind and touched a few strands so it was easier to move; in a quick stride he went to the window and upon touching a braid ‘down’ changed so that he could stand on a wall.

“Running, cousin?” a voice asked.

Allyceus felt a jolt of momentary surprise but kept it hidden, relying on instinct gathered in battle to regain his composure. He looked to the right and spotted the Armistice Blade stabbed into the wall, cousin Eleus — dressed in the Armistice Mail — standing on it.

“I had a suspicion you were in the castle,” Allyceus muttered, feeling no energy to cloak himself in decorum.

Jaslynn had been found by Sir Norbert’s squires and it was through them that Allyceus had learnt of the Champion’s escape, meaning the information had passed through the huntmaster and undoubtedly the king.

I am surprised that Father and Mother are not here themselves, Allyceus thought darkly.

“Why did you not come to us?” the prince asked as his mind fixated on how the king and queen might react.

It was as if he had the gift of foresight he knew what lay in the future: the queen would remind him of their discussion. Allyceus had always known that marriage to a man was something he would be forced to do, but he had wanted to put it off as long as possible, and so a bargain had been struck. So long as the Champion was still a card on the table, Allyceus would not be rushed towards marriage, especially to Owain the Younger.

Well, now the Champion is no longer a card.

“It was on His Majesty’s instruction,” said Eleus. “He wanted to know how you were doing without whatever act you might put on for his benefit. I expect there is a part of him that believes this might all be some great ploy you and the others thought up — sending the Champion away so that he might root out Rowan and end his threat. Of course he said none of this.”

“Champion Jordan does not have the disposition of a spy,” Allyceus muttered.

“He had disposition enough to succeed in escaping,” said Eleus, the words were blunt but were eased by his shrug. Sir Eleus’ eyes were set completely on Allyceus, attempting to decipher him like a book.

As if an air mage had sucked out the air from the space, Prince Allyceus found it harder to breathe. It was as though a weight had been pressed onto his chest and with every second it grew heavier. Allyceus’ hands went to his arms and touched the raised marks of old scars; he felt the muscles of his arms and felt a well of pride — both at the work and their appearance, it seemed to ease a deep discomfort when he took in his appearance; and to his hair which had been cut a few days past, so short that the queen would be scandalised the next time she saw him.

Having regained his mental footing, Allyceus cast his mind back, looking for anything that might have made him aware of these plans. The Champion had taken to a more intensive form of training lately, doing so without having to be cajoled. But that was not out of the ordinary, he and Odysseus had nearly died, and that was enough to change a person on a fundamental level.

“Jaslynn and Sir Norbert’s squires are giving chase,” Allyceus muttered, his mind choosing that moment to reflect on the skills the man had shown off. He had a keen understanding of subterfuge — Allyceus still remembered when the Champion had given them the slip weeks past and surprised they had all been — and was a quick study to boot, integrating his various trinkets into a greater whole.

Is it possible that he was planning all of this from the beginning? Allyceus thought. And we were too blind to have seen it coming?

“It is only a matter of time before he is found and caught,” said Allyceus, internally shaking his head. He still remembered who Champion Jordan had been on his arrival into this world, a coward who ran instead of fight. Allyceus could still remember how he had been in the mines.

No one could play a part so well without a tell.

Or perhaps there were plenty of tells you just did not look closely enough.

“Word has already spread to others in the realm,” Eleus pointed out, a reminder Allyceus did not need. The prince could not help but curse the existence of messenger boxes, before their use had been perfected it had been a matter of days before letters were delivered, and even then the messenger could die along the way. In this moment he wished for a return for the dark ages if only to get better control of their present circumstances. “Whatever trust might have been growing is now gone. We are once more at a disadvantage.”

“Why are you telling me all this, Eleus?” Allyceus muttered, unable to hide his irritation. The prince wanted nothing but to move, to act, to punch, but this would not be what was needed now; his usual skill set would be of no use now.

“Because the mark of a good leader is not only strength but the ability of forethought,” he said. “And you, dear cousin, do not possess such ability.” Allyceus scowled but knew the words to be true. Eleus did not seem to care. “That was clear when you and your troupe visited Altheer and were attacked.”

“You were the one who allowed yourself to be surprised,” said Allyceus.

Eleus shook his head. “Delegating blame is the mark of a bad leader. Father may not be a warrior, but he is well respected and possesses a keen intellect. He taught me and my siblings well.” Eleus stopped, looking at Allyceus with an expression that was too sharp. “His Majesty, King Orpheus, is a great man, but his focus can be too narrow at times. He sees something and it becomes his entire focus, when it came to teaching rule, he only did so with Matthaeus and paid no attention to you or Odysseus; and now his focus has been on the mages and keeping power, with only a peripheral sort of attention paid to you.”

“Father trusted me with this responsibility,” said Allyceus. “If he had not seen a spark of leadership, he would not have done so.”

“I wonder if that is the truth,” Eleus whispered. He sighed. “Whatever the case is, it is now the duty before you and it would serve you well to remember that you are not solely a warrior.”

Allyceus grew quiet, reflecting on the words. “This was never to be my life,” he said, almost a whisper. “I had always thought I might be an adventurer, founding my own hunting guild.”

“You could always choose that life,” Eleus said as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “Duty was set before me and I decided to abdicate. Now I live a life that I enjoy in His Majesty’s service, your service if I live long enough.”

“I cannot abdicate. What would it say about father if another one of us chose to do so?” Allyceus asked.

Eleus hummed. “Do you know that Matthaeus and I shared a similar conversation to this before his disappearance?”

“Did you?” he asked, his voice sticking in his throat for a moment.

“Yes,” said Eleus. “Though, as he always was, Matthaeus was the more active participant. Ever curious, he asked why I made the decision I did and I told him that I chose my happiness.”

“Do you think he did the same?” Allyceus asked. “That he chose his happiness?”

“There is much your brother hid from you, Your Highness,” he said. “Much that he hid from everyone. But you could see it if you looked closely enough, the moments where this life was a burden upon his shoulder, and then he would suddenly smile and everything would look well.”

“But things were not well.”

“From the looks of it, no,” said Eleus.

“What does it say that his happiness would be away from us?” Allyceus asked, unable to keep his resentment from marring his tone.

“Who can know but the man himself,” Eleus said wistfully. A loud knock against the door reached them, breaking the moment of musing. “You will want to hear that. News of our elusive Champion.”

Allyceus frowned. “Is it good?” he asked. He wondered if this was not another test by the king, seeing if Allyceus deserved the throne and the responsibility that came with it.

“You will want to hear it,” Eleus said, giving nothing away.

Ellora was on the other side of the door. Allyceus only opened it partially as Cybill was still getting dressed. “Did we get him?” he asked simply.

“No,” said Ellora. Allyceus took a deep breath so he could keep from falling. “Jaslynn and the squires successfully tracked the goat’s footfalls and engaged in combat. Squire Latimer is grievously injured – likely to die – and Jaslynn lost one of her throwing discs.”

“It was the Champion who did this?” Cybill asked as she joined them.

“He was in the company of a Falconer, a spatial mage and the Monk with the Yellow Staff,” Ellora continued.

“How can that be?” Allyceus muttered. Falconers were of the Sky Courts and the lady with the yellow staff was an exile from a temple in the Sunward Empire. The Lady was no one of import, but the Falconer…it spoke of conspiracy. But how could that be when the Champion sequestered since his arrival on Althor?

Had he planned something after his and Odysseus’ fall? Perhaps Odysseus had been unconscious for a longer time than he thought, but even then it did not make much sense. It would have taken a lot of effort to bring such a plan together.

It is possible that even the fall was a delusion by my brother. When the Champion himself was asked how he survived he could not give a good enough account.

“There is something else,” Ellora said and she paused. “One of them bore the Sonorous Hammer.”

“Matthaeus?” Allyceus said, his voice trembling like that of a child. He felt his stomach twist as his mind momentarily went blank. “How can it be?”

Behind him, Cybill wrapped Allyceus in a hug. He took comfort in it but his mind raced.

Conspiracy, he thought, it had to be, for what else could make sense?

“From what I have heard, they are unsure if it is truly the prince,” Ellora continued. “The man they fought had a larger build, his hair had grown as to being unkempt and his skin was tarnished by markings. He looked to all a commoner, except…well…he offered Jaslynn and Anthony potions when some in their troupe would have killed them. If it were not for such an action, Jaslynn says she would assume that the hammer had been stolen.”

“And it is the hammer?” Allyceus asked. “Is she sure?”

Ellora only shrugged. There was only so much information that could be passed along with a letter.

“This makes no sense,” he muttered, “He helped the Champion escape?”

“It seems so,” said Ellora.

Now more than ever he felt sure that this was a conspiracy, the pieces connected too neatly.

“Could he be the cause?” he asked, thinking aloud. “Could he be the reason the Champion could have been able to escape? For some plot to get into Father’s good graces? Perhaps becoming a crowned prince once more?”

It made the most sense. Perhaps Matthaeus still had friends in the castle and they had spoken to the Champion in secret, coached him on the paths to take to escape.

But why then would he protect the Champion against Jaslynn?

At the question the line of thinking broke apart, it was too convoluted and nonsensical to be true. The world felt like it made no sense.

“Does Odysseus know?” Allyceus asked. Even if Matthaeus had proved himself a disappointment, Odysseus had shown himself to truly be on his side.

“Freda is telling him now,” said Ellora as footsteps rang through the hall. Allyceus stepped out to see his brother walking at a brisk pace, Freda a little behind him, her expression sad.

“Did you hear?” Odysseus asked when he was close enough. “Matthaeus. It has to be part of a greater plan, does it not? Him helping the Champion. Perhaps he is trying to get to Rowan? It might be something that was decided before they left.”

Perhaps, Allyceus thought, but as he remembered Eleus’ words he did not have that impression. The knight had known of this news, known of Matthaeus, and yet he had seemed confused by it all. Unless it was an act.

“Odysseus, wrap us in a field of hastened time,” Allyceus ordered.

Odysseus wasted no time, he moved his hands while muttering a spell under his breath. Blue light appeared and swept out in a wide range around them.

“Ten ticks per tick,” said Odysseus. “Fast enough we would be inaudible to all who are close enough to hear us, unless they themselves possess temporal gems.”

“Sir Eleus stands outside guarding us,” Allyceus said.

“That’s who you were talking to?” said Cybill.

Allyceus nodded. “He and I shared a conversation about Matthaeus not a moment before,” he continued. “Brother, you think it might be a ploy from Father, and perhaps it is, but when I spoke to Eleus there seemed to be longing in his heart for his departed cousin.”

“It could be an act,” said Cybill.

“My very thoughts,” Allyceus agreed.

“Eleus is not known for being a good liar,” said Odysseus. “Though if it were under Father’s order he might be driven to become one.”

“What does this mean for us?” Ellora asked.

“If there is some unknown plan, then the consequences for losing the Champion would be mitigated,” said Odysseus. “Though Mother might still hold me up to my end of the bargain.”

“Is marriage truly so harsh a punishment?” Freda asked, her voice soft and her gaze down.

For a moment all life left Odysseus’ eyes before anger and resentment took its place. He didn’t answer but began to pace, changing the edges of the temporal effect. Allyceus could not help but feel sympathy for him, at the loss of a friend when Odysseus had so few in the first place.

Anger began to boil in Allyceus’ stomach and that ire seemed to have an easier time attaching to the Champion than anyone else. Jordan had not been stolen, he had snuck away and only then contacted Matthaeus — if such a scenario was indeed the truth. He had left them of his own accord.

Doubly so if his writings to Odysseus are anything to go by, Allyceus thought, which was something else that didn’t make sense.

“We should bring our suspicions to Mother and Father,” said Allyceus. “If what we think is true, then we played our parts as best we could and there was no way we could win, and if it is something else — if Matthaeus worked to free the Champion without our knowing, then it was their failure as much as ours.”

The words felt like a plea because Allyceus did not speak from a position of strength. He looked to Odysseus but saw that the same feeling of it being a futile hope played across his brother’s expression.

Curse you for what you have done to us, Champion, Allyceus thought furiously. I hope for your sake that we never come across each other ever again.

“Does that mean we’re going back to Malnor castle?” Cybill asked.

“Father values strength,” said Allyceus. “If we go to him instead of him coming to us, he will respect us more.”

Much good that it will do us, he thought sardonically.

“And the Champion? Won’t we give chase?” Ellora asked. “We know where he was, we could cut him off if we were transported to Susserton.”

“We still aren’t sure of our relations with Susserton,” Odysseus said.

“And we were already given opportunity. Jaslynn failed,” said Allyceus, the words a harsh mutter. He took a breath, doing his best to drink in Cybill’s warmth but it was nothing against the oppressive emptiness that had now subsumed all of him.

“I will send a servant to request transport back home,” said Odysseus. “Mother taught me that all situations can be salvaged. Perhaps there is a way we can walk out of this with what we want. For now we should dine with the Earl and his family to keep good relations. Matthaeus has resurfaced and his daughter was amongst those aggrieved by his disappearance.”

Allyceus nodded, though he felt empty inside. It seemed a certainty that he would be married to Owain and for the life of him he could imagine no worse fate.

***

A song of metal and porcelain rang through the king’s dining quarters. The sounds were quick to come and even quicker to end, joined by soft chewing or the errant bated breath. The atmosphere was a terse one, eyes directed at plates than any of the participants of the dinner.

The table was a small one, rectangular in shape though two chairs sat empty on one side. At the head of the table was King Orpheus, his mouth set in a frown and his brows furrowed, at the foot Queen Eleanor, her expression impassive and her hands delicately moving across her meal, and sitting together, dressed in their finest attire, were the princes Allyceus and Odysseus.

I should be speaking, Allyceus thought as he cut at a piece of meat. It was something that had flickered past his mind three times before, and each time he had stopped after a glance at the king. The man was as he usually was, but now Allyceus could sense the disappointment running off him in waves.

It had been so much easier when he and Odysseus had been discussing this evening, and yet both of them were now silent.

Odysseus looked up from his plate, most of the vegetables eaten leaving behind meat. The prince’s eyes went to Queen Eleanor and it looked like he might speak before his gaze turned to the king, and noticed that the man was expectant; at this Odysseus looked down, his shoulders slouching and his fork hand shaking.

I have come against death, Allyceus thought. These are only words.

“A letter has already been sent to Duke Owain the Senior,” the king said, his voice low but hard. Whatever words had been about to leave Allyceus disappeared and his mind was left blank. He did his best to form a coherent thought but nothing came. King Orpheus continued, “Discussions of your engagement will begin. Baron Owain the Younger will be in the castle and I expect you to court him.”

For a moment Allyceus couldn’t breathe. He sat closest to the king and if he showed weakness the man would no doubt see it. Allyceus’ eyes burned with fury but he tamped the feelings down, straightening his shoulders and projecting strength even though his lips threatened to tremble.

“Father,” he started, the words slow and careful. It would not do to sound angry, not at the king and certainly not with the present climate hanging over them. There were times to placate, his nurses had taught him that when he was younger, and this was one of them.

“You lost the Champion,” the king interrupted, not loud or angry but all the same coming with force. For a long moment King Orpheus sat in silence, staring at his place. The Queen stood and silently drifted behind the man, putting her hands on his shoulders. King Orpheus looked up. “You convinced me to trust you and then lost him.”

“We know of the plan,” said Odysseus cut in, his voice shaking.

“What plan?” the queen asked.

“Matthaeus?” Odysseus said, but no sooner had the words left his mouth than he knew they had been completely wrong. It was as though a storm had suddenly appeared on the king’s expression and it took everything to keep it restrained. Queen Eleanor moved her hands so they were touching the king's neck, massaging it slightly.

“I am not sure what you mean,” Queen Eleanor continued.

Odysseus turned to Allyceus, his expression wide.

“We thought that you might have had a hand in the Champion’s escape,” Allyceus explained. “That this was all some ploy to get Rowan.”

But that is not true, Allyceus thought. All of it was a story I told myself to keep from admitting the truth. He bested us through his own power. He was keener than we let ourselves believe.

It still didn’t feel right, no matter the Champion’s accomplishment this seemed beyond him, but it was the only truth that made sense at present.

“How did I raise such disappointments?” King Orpheus said.

Allyceus felt a bitterness in his throat. He swallowed but it lingered.

“Matthaeus’ actions, if this is indeed him,” Queen Eleanor said, “are not part of any plan. He does as he pleases, throwing duty and family aside for his own selfishness. We sought to spare you, but…” her voice warbled, emotion touching her features, “your brother has lost his way.”

“And in the process made everything harder,” said King Orpheus, his voice set low and his expression dark. “If that were not enough to deal with, now there’s this.” He shook his head. “Our family has long believed that marriages should be of love first and political affairs second — this is the way of Champions, passed down from Zeus himself. But such ways are liable to lose us the kingdom.”

Dread settled in Allyceus’ stomach and from how rigid Odysseus’ shoulders were, the same was true for him too.

“Odysseus, Duke Surefoot is still in the Viper’s Den, am I correct?”

“Yes, Father,” said Odysseus, his voice steely.

“You will go there under the guise of visiting a friend,” said the king. “Margaret still pines for Matthaeus, hopeful Samuel will not be offended if I offer you in Matthaeus’ stead. You will do your best to make this courtship work.”

Odysseus turned to the queen as if asking for help, but it was clear to all that it wouldn’t come.

“This will be good for you,” said Queen Eleanor. “Your father and I have spoken it over. You shall be given your own duchy as a gift when you are engaged. It has taken too long for you to be named duke, but I think now is the perfect moment for it.”

She smiled, excepting one in return but what she got was a barely restrained scowl. Allyceus still did not completely understand it. He had long thought that Odysseus was drawn to men — there were rumours of it when he had attended the temporal school — but it had not seemed so since.

Odysseus did not understand what it meant for Allyceus to be king, nor the important of the name itself — even the man himself found himself wondering why he was putting on this farce of a show, that is until he thought of using the name Allycea again, becoming a lady of the court, and that thought sending shivers down his spine.

“The Champion taught me that even if I cannot understand,” Odysseus had said, “then at least I can respect. We are family and no greater bonds should exist. You will always be my family.”

Allyceus afforded his brother the very same respect, which only fuelled his fury that the Champion could have so coldly betrayed Odysseus.

“What of the Champion?” Allyceus asked through gritted teeth.

“A bounty had been placed on him and his companions,” the king said. “He will be taken alive but the rest I would sooner see dead, especially this man who pretends to be my son. Odysseus, prepare yourself for the trip, tomorrow morning you leave. Ally—”

“Teach me to rule,” Allyceus cut in. The king stopped, a brow rising. Allyceus swallowed, nervous. He was set to marry Odysseus but that did not mean he would be the man’s queen. If he were king then he would be powerful and it would make it easier to cement his power by getting the Healer to change his form. “Father…Duke Owain already has too much power, does he not? By marrying me to Owain you would be giving their family the crown. But if you were to teach me, I might be able to salvage the Mandaron name.”

“You want me to reward you for your failure?” he asked.

It is a bad leader who delegates blame, Allyceus thought, reflecting on Eleus’ words. Does this mean he thinks that Father is a bad leader?

It felt like a treasonous thought, but if it was true, then learning from the king would only take Allyceus so far. The relationship between the king and his brother was terse at the best of times, but from what little Eleus had said perhaps Duke Aeleus might be a better teacher.

Allyceus would have to find a way to make it work, but now, “I do not want the family to lose its power,” he said. “I am not Matthaeus. I know to put duty and family before everything else.”

“Are you willing to put action behind those words?” King Orpheus asked.

Allyceus swallowed, he felt as if this might be a trap but there were not a lot of options open to him. Hesitantly, he nodded.

“Then I want you to end your relationship with that commoner girl,” the king decreed.