Green Eyes

The doors of the Throne Room burst open. Instantly all the activity in the court ceased and everyone turned and stared at the messenger. Swallowing hard, the man hustled across the floor to the throne and bowed to the ground.

“I trust you have a very good reason for interrupting this court,” Manasseh intoned, his voice cold and low.

“Forgive me sire,” the man looked up from his place on the ground, “but I just received a message from Beth Isaac: Lord Jasper and his wife have been murdered.”

Gasps rippled across the courtiers, ambassadors, and lords gathered. Even Manasseh raised an eyebrow from his throne.

“What happened?” requested the king.

“Sire the Navi and her guardian attacked the castle, killing the Blood Guard commander, the lord and his wife, and more than a hundred other soldiers,” the messenger reported. “Also, the guardian and another woman wrecked almost the entire cavalry cohort by themselves.”

King Manasseh and Viceroy Brutus exchanged a quick uneasy glance. “Clear the court!” Manasseh ordered sharply.

Immediately Blood Guards began escorting people to the exit. Most of them were exchanging worried looks and whispering excitedly amongst themselves. Twice in less than three weeks lords had died, more or less. It was making the Kalashonian nobility uneasy.

“Not you,” Manasseh growled to the messenger who was starting to get up.

A couple minutes later, the man uncomfortably looked around the empty Throne Room. Then he looked up into the stern, hard face of the king.

“Tell me everything that happened, exactly,” Manasseh commanded harshly.

The letter the envoy had received had been very, very thorough. He related in detail what had transpired from the mysterious burning of the stable to Jared and Mara’s great escape.

“Tell me about this slave that the mercenary was so intent on rescuing,” Manasseh inquired when the messenger had finished.

“She was Lord Jasper’s prized possession and he kept her very close to him at all times,” the messenger supplied.

“Prized possession?” queried Manasseh with a raised eyebrow. “That is interesting. I have known Jasper many years and he has never once mentioned any prized slave.”

“Really?” the messenger looked confused. “That is interesting. He would brag to us about owning the blue-eyed she-demon.”

Both the king and the Viceroy’s eyes widened at the description. “What color did you say her eyes were?” rasped Brutus.

“Blue, my lord,” the man uneasily answered. He had the sinking feeling that Jasper’s death wasn’t going to be the worst news he delivered that day. “I always found it odd that a Kalashonian slave had blue eyes. I thought that only Royals had blue eyes.”

“For the most part,” grunted Manasseh, his features tightening. “There are a few others, most of them descendants of Royals. They are in my service. Did you ever see her?”

“Once or twice,” shrugged the messenger.

“Describe her.”

“Average height, athletic build, long, sandy brown hair,” he elucidated, “and of course blue eyes.”

Manasseh and Brutus exchanged a worried look. “It can’t be her, sire,” the Viceroy suggested. “That’s impossible. We saw her dead; we were there when they put her body in the tomb. It’s just not possible.”

“No, it’s her,” Manasseh shook his head. “There’s no doubt of that.”

“But my lord, we saw her dead,” protested Brutus. “And there are other Kalashonians with blue eyes. Very few, but they do exist.”

“There is no question Viceroy,” Manasseh replied. “She is back and the twins are together again.”

“How do you know?”

“Tell me Viceroy, do you know what the ‘Chicken Maneuver’ is?” Manasseh queried.

“I’m afraid my military knowledge is lacking,” confessed Brutus.

“It’s a cavalry maneuver used when you are severely outnumbered by your opponents,” Manasseh explained. “What you do is take your force and divide it, each half running in opposite directions. Then you loop each half around until they are charging straight at each other. At the last possible second, you turn aside. The opposing forces chasing you hopefully don’t see it until it is too late and then crash into each other. Even if you don’t destroy your enemy, you have at the very least made the playing field level.”

“Ah, like they did at Jasper’s Castle,” Brutus understood. “But what does this have to do with them?”

“Very simple,” Manasseh answered. “I was at the battle where they invented it.”

“Oh,” Brutus squeaked.

“For obvious reasons, it is a very difficult maneuver to execute,” Manasseh continued. “The teamwork and horsemanship required to pull it off is immense and you can only use it once. To my knowledge, they are the only two to have successfully done it.”

“Excuse me my lords,” piped up the messenger who had gone largely ignored, “who are ‘they’? Who is this slave?”

“That is none of your concern,” snapped Manasseh sharply before composing himself. “You have done well to bring me this news. You are dismissed.”

“Shall I have the court brought back in?” inquired the messenger.

“No,” the king shook his head. “Court is cancelled for the rest of the day. I need time to think.”

“As you wish, sire,” the man bowed and scurried out of the room.

After the doors shut, Manasseh lowered his head and rubbed his temples. “Tell me Brutus,” he addressed his viceroy, “did we kill anyone we were supposed to 20 years ago?”

“It does appear that ghosts from the grave are coming back to haunt us,” Brutus concurred. “And it couldn’t come at a worse time too. Your plans to rebuild the empire are almost ready to begin.”

“Perhaps,” Manasseh said thoughtfully. “Or perhaps not.”

“Sire?” the Viceroy raised a bushy eyebrow.

“Yes,” Manasseh scratched his beard, apparently oblivious to the sorcerer. “This will work out nicely.”

“Could you perhaps elaborate, sire?” Brutus was confused.

“Hmm? Oh, yes,” Manasseh came back to reality. “You have a coven of sorcerers near Beth Haven, correct?”

“Yes, it is one of our strongest holds,” Brutus confirmed. “Why?”

“Because that is where the Navi and her friends are going next,” Manasseh informed. “You will go to Beth Haven and with your sorcerers capture the Navi. I want her alive to be trained properly. Her companions on the other hand, dispose of immediately.”

“If you wish, I could send my sorcerers a message and have them do the job,” Brutus suggested. “It will take me a good two weeks to get there, maybe more.”

“No,” Manasseh shook his head. “She may be young and inexperienced, but she is a Kalashonian Navi and thus the most powerful. You saw what she did in David’s Castle. If provoked, she can be overwhelming. Your people will need you leading them. You were right; this is a job that should be left to a sorcerer and you are the most powerful.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Brutus smiled slightly having scored one over the irritating general. “But what if they leave before I get there?”

“Leave that to me,” Manasseh waved off. “Send a message to your people to keep an eye on them until you get there, but to not interfere.”

“As you wish, my lord,” Brutus bowed. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes,” the king nodded. “Send a message to the lady in Endor. Tell her that I need her back here immediately. Oh, and one more thing, Lord Brutus.”

“Yes, sire?” the Viceroy looked up.

“Don’t come back without the Navi,” the king warned in a casual tone.

“Yes, my lord,” Brutus bowed again and left the king alone.