Acclayne Book 1: The Game Begins

We'd set up camp just outside the city and, apart from my brief visit to get food, I had been confined to base. I'm always the one left to mind the sodding bags; 'oh, mind this for me while I go to the toilet will you?', 'I just love this song, be right back!', 'you don't mind watching this while I'm busy over here eating this guy's face off do you?' all well and good but it's never just a couple of minutes is it? Then you're sat on you're own looking like a tool until eventually everyone thinks you're the designated bag babysitter- I swear; I've contemplated bringing a raffle-ticket book out with me on more than one occasion. Earn some money out of it. Juney had told me she'd 'be right back' about two hours ago, she'd probably broken a record. Apparently I'd be too easily recognised to go with her -I'd love to know how seeing as, strictly speaking, nobody knows I exist. I'd put the point to Juney who explained that superstition and folk lore were taken very seriously: apparently my mother's coming had been pre-ordained, which is easily enough claimed in hindsight. Given the fact that I also look remarkably like my mother, Juney reasoned that people were liable to draw their own conclusions. It all sounded a little far-fetched to me, but then this whole experience was entirely out of my comfort zone- apart from minding the bags; I could totally do that, so I reluctantly agreed to stay behind.

Methyn had taken the kids for a bit of a tour; give them a bit of a lesson in history and culture. We all knew he really wanted to go and stock up on his beloved teabags but if he wanted to hide his motives behind the guise of being a concerned educator then that was his business. If I'm being entirely honest then I think I would rather him get his teabags; he'd been bad enough to be around when we'd run out of biscuits. I could only imagine the grump that would descend if he was forced to go without tea for any length of time.

Juney's absence was due to the fact that she'd agreed to meet with some 'contacts' upon her return to Cortharen; I have come to learn that to be code for: 'secret assassin stuff that's none of your business.' Which is just fine by me- I think I'd rather not know. I mean, I'm aware that Juney is a total bad-ass, but I do not need the mental images of her gutting people with her bare hands – which I'm almost positive that she's capable of, and probably enjoys. Eurgh.

I tell you what, when you boil it down, this 'hero' stuff is actually pretty damn boring when you consider the amount of time I've had to spend sitting around doing nothing. I lay back on the now dry grass and squinted at the sky. The sun was dipping low behind the trees now; the day was coming to a close. I breathed a sigh of relief; it had been a hellishly long day; and given the meandering pace of time here that was really saying something.

I closed my eyes briefly to bask in the evening sun and when I opened them again my attention was immediately drawn to Twin-Blade. I know it might sound a little like crazy talk, but I could have sworn it was looking at me- I honestly felt like I was under some sort of scrutiny.

“Stop it.” I said aloud, “You're freaking me out.” And, even though I knew it was stupid, as soon as I'd said it I kinda felt more relaxed. I considered it for a moment, maybe I should have been using this time to practice. I reached out for Twin-Blade while still lying on my back and grasped the hilt. My hand tingled as I made contact but I didn't pull away, I was starting to get used to it- I figured that it must be some sort of residual magical vibration or other. I was even becoming used to the sensation, worryingly enough. I laid Twin-Blade down the length of my body, who was I kidding? I was too tired to even seriously think about practising, instead I relaxed under the reassuring weight of it on top of me. Had I been left alone much longer then I probably would have slept; even though it still made me nervous I knew I would be safe to long as I had Twin-Blade with me. It was an odd yet comforting sensation. As serendipity would have it Juney sauntered into the camp just as my eyelids became too heavy to keep open.

“Lazy ass.” She said loudly. I sighed, my eyes still shut.

“Some people just have no respect.” I opened one eye and smiled, despite the interruption I was pleased to see her. “So what's news?”

“I got us an audience with his highness.”

“That was quick.”

“Yeah, well I'm sure they want to get this mess sorted out as quickly as we do.” She shrugged, I didn't know how she could be so nonchalant, though I suppose it was all in a days work for her. In fact she was probably a little disappointed that she wasn't in for a good old fashioned fight.

“Don't blame them. I mean, if there's problems between monarchy then there could be anarchy... haha.” She quirked an eyebrow at me, “Rhymes.”

“Maybe you do need some sleep.” She smiled and sat down next to me. “So what's this about then?”

“Well I was going to practice...”

“Right-”

“...but I got comfy.”

“Hmm.”

“So what's the plan? Rest up and pay them a visit tomorrow?”

“Nope, we're going now.”

“I had a feeling you were going to say that, don't ask me why, just one of those gut instincts that something was going to come between me and sleep- so far the contributing factor has usually been you so why stop now...” I watched her as she ignored me and started rooting through the bags. “What're you looking for?”

“Kaylaer has been holding on to something for me, I need it back.”

“Ah.”

“There it is.” I didn't see what it was; she pocketed it straight away. I figured it was probably best not to ask. “Are you ready then?”

“Excuse me?”

“We're going.”

“What about the others?” I sat up.

“We're meeting them there; I ran into them earlier. It was hardly worth them coming all the way back here was it?”

“I suppose not.” I looked around, “What about the bags? We won't manage all this stuff.”

“We'll cover them over and pick them up on the way back, there's nothing too important in them.”

“Saves carrying them I suppose.”

“Exactly, now get a few essentials together, strap on your sword, and we'll get going.”

“I thought you said this was going to get sorted quickly, I assumed that meant cleanly as well!”

“Oh probably,” she waved off my concern, “better to be safe than sorry though right?” I didn't know what it was but a terrible feeling of uneasiness was beginning to knot itself in my stomach – even under the reassuring weight of Twin-Blade.

“Okay.” I said reluctantly as I stood. I strapped Twin-Blade to me. Think I might need you later.

***

By the time he reached the camp site Alaina and Juney had long gone. Darkness had descended completely and the embers of the small camp fire had gone cold. Alistair searched around desperately trying to find a sign of anyone but to no avail.

He stood still and tried to control himself. Slowing his breathing completely he attempted to lock on to the pulsing sensation coming from the stone grasped tightly in his hand. He thumbed it gently; attuning himself. It's counterpart was not here: they were heading for the palace. He was too late.

***

“You cannot do this to me! I am an ambassador from the Corthus Institution for the Study of Magic and Wonderment! I am expected by your superior!” was what Methyn desperately wanted to say to the armed guards that now held him , but fear was keeping his mouth firmly shut. All he managed was an indignant yet altogether terrified “Meep!”

Juney had told them to wait for her in the city centre come nightfall- that she and Alaina would meet them; and together they would attend their audience with the King and Queen and get everything all straightened out. Happy, with his pack now re-stocked with enough Cortharen teabags and biscuits to last the average person over a year, and having just had a pot full of the stuff, he agreed. If not for the tea his nerves would have been shot as he contemplated the enormity of the peace-keeping task ahead of them.

After Juney had left, and his mind now clear to think of other things, Methyn decided that it might be best to find the children some accommodation for the night – much to their protestations to the contrary. It was all well and good, he argued with them, taking them on a cross-country tour; showing them different cultures and putting them through their paces – but he was not happy about being the one responsible for knowingly putting them in the middle of a political situation that was fraught with danger. He stuck to his guns and, using the last of his spending money, rented them a small room above a quiet Inn for the night. He tried his best to overlook the calibre of the other clientèle ; as a stocky and unkempt looking fellow barged passed them while he was signing for the room. He was glad now that he had as he was hauled ungraciously away by four heavily armoured guards. There was a misunderstanding here, there had to be. Instead of insisting as much, he remained quiet. The girls would sort this out when they found him missing. Or at least, he hoped.