The King's Daughters (15 page)

Observing me with his good eye, the old man stroked his beard. Crumbs rained down the front of his brown tunic.

"A prince—here?" he said in a tone of suspicion. "That's unusual. Princes normally care more about pretty girls than my work." A sudden expression of understanding flew across his face. "Ahh, you're looking for the countess and got lost. It's the first door. The one at the bottom of the steps. Now leave. I've got work to do."

Milo and I exchanged puzzled glances. Then I turned to the old man. "Can I ask who you are and what is the purpose of this room?"

The old man gave me a look of interest. "Where did you say you were from, Prince?"

"Prince Amir, from Telfar."

"Telfar . . . hmm," repeated the man, while stroking his beard again. "I've heard tales of your land. Intriguing tales. Tell me, is it true that in your country a man can die of heat in the day and freeze to death at night?"

The man had not answered my question, and that annoyed me. But even though I greatly disliked conversing with a stranger, I felt compelled to answer his question. "The desert nights are indeed very cold. However, the Sorvinkian nights are far colder." Bowing with respect, I added. "With whom do I have the honor of speaking?"

"You're polite. I'll give you that. I'm Auguste Ramblais, the royal alchemist, and this, as you see—" He waved a hand at the room. "—is my laboratory."

I gazed around in amazement, and then I approached the large telescope. Constructed of narrow wood planks clamped together with brass bands, the instrument's body was easily longer than I was tall and its diameter was approximately the size of my waist. I touched the eyepiece. "May I?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Bending forward, I eagerly brought my eye to the telescope's lens. I breathed in sharply. The forest appeared close enough for me to be able to count each of the trees bordering it.

"This is a powerful instrument. What do you use it for?"

"Astronomy."

"Ah! The study of the stars. What have you learned from it?"

"They move . . . or maybe we are the ones moving. I'm still undecided on this subject."

I smiled and nodded. I had noticed a similar phenomenon using a less powerful telescope—a small brass one safely tucked away in one of my trunks. "What else occupies your time, tell me? Science has always been my passion."

The alchemist eyed me up and down. By the look of distrust painted on his face, I gathered that I would have to prove myself as a man of science to gain this old fox's trust. But was I
still
a man of science? I didn't know . . . that was the problem.

Regardless of my doubts, I threw myself into a long narration of my own scientific experimentations. The ones I had made with intriguing stones capable of attracting metal. If rubbed on a piece of iron, the stones would transfer this ability to the piece of metal itself. I talked about the properties of certain elements, which when mixed together would create a third and totally new one. This new element often possessed qualities completely different than the two that had formed it. After a few more anecdotes, I noted that the alchemist was looking at me differently. As if I wasn't an annoying and curious prince anymore, but a colleague.

"I'm impressed, I must admit it," he said. Turning around, he waved for me to follow him. "Come. Come."

I hurried behind him as he made his way to the lit burner. The amber liquid in the beaker above the flame was on the verge of boiling.

The alchemist rubbed his hands together. "Good. It's ready."

"What is it? A new experiment?"

Once again, he looked at me as if he was unsure if I had any business being in this place. "Tea! It's tea! What did you think it was? Want some?"

"Er . . . certainly."

"Tell your companion to come too. There's more then enough for three."

I called for Milo to join us; then we all moved to a table at the end of the room and sipped hot tea while nibbling on hard biscuits.

"You still haven't talked about your experiments," I said after a sip.

"Are they of a dangerous nature?" rapidly added Milo, his eyes fixed on the alchemist's scar. I could've punched him for his rudeness.

But to my surprise the alchemist burst into laughter. He ran a finger along his scar. "Well deduced, young man. This was caused by the explosion of a glass jar containing some new and very unstable spirits."

"Did it cause that too?" I asked, pointing to his lame leg.

"No. I broke my ankle as a boy. Didn't heal well."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Why? You didn't break it!" Leaning forward, the alchemist slapped my shoulder. "You're too polite, my prince. Far too polite."

I felt myself relax, and for the next hour I listened to the alchemist's account of his travels and experiments. King Erik wasn't the first crowned head he'd served, but the third and most powerful of the three. But according to Auguste, the King of Sorvinka was also the king who cared the least about his experiments. The alchemist's presence here had more to do with fashion and prestige than true interest in science.

I swallowed the mouthful of dry biscuit I'd been struggling with for a while and said, "I suppose that running an empire as large as Sorvinka can occupy one's entire mind."

"Pf . . . keeping the Empire from breaking apart is the real headache."

"Is the Farrellian rebellion that great of a threat to the Empire?" I asked.

The alchemist's knowledgeable eye turned to Milo.

The eunuch swiftly lowered his head.

"Fear not, young Milo, I won't tell anyone. Farrell isn't Sorvinka's biggest threat—the eastern hordes are. They'll stay put only as long as the king pays them not to invade Sorvinka. However, he cannot stop them from invading the neighboring countries."

"Savages!" hissed Milo.

"Hmm, I wouldn't judge them so quickly if I were you. True, we possess certain knowledge they lack. But the same can be said of them." The alchemist rose, and after a noisy search around the room, he returned with a small wooden box. When he opened it I saw that the box was filled with a black powdery substance. "A gift from Khuan, one of the eastern emissaries."

"What is it?"

"Thunder dust," said the alchemist. Taking a pinch of powder, he threw it into the fireplace.

POOFH
. A blinding tongue of flame shot up into the air. A thick black smoke followed, choking the room with a pungent sulfuric smell which irritated our throats and burnt our eyes.

"This dust is only one of the few marvels they possess," said the alchemist amidst a dark could of smoke.

Coughing, I fanned the air in front of my face, glad that the smoke was finally dissipating. "What's the purpose of this dust . . . besides making smoke?"

The alchemist's expression took on an air of mystery. "I'm not at liberty to say. It's not ready." He closed the box containing the thunder dust. "In the course of my travels, I learned many interesting facts about the eastern hordes. These
barbarians
have a name. They call themselves the Anchin. I believe it means the hunters. Their clothing may be crude, but their weapons are not. Theirs are far superior to any I have seen so far. Do you know that their emperor moves around in a traveling city? Mmm . . . " The alchemist smiled in beatitude. "How I would love to see such a thing."

I cleared my throat. "I saw their horses. They look like rugged creatures."

"The wild ponies are the Anchin's most fearsome weapon. It has been said that mounts and riders can travel for days without stopping. The riders sleep and eat on their horses. These unstoppable hordes of light cavalry can overrun a country like a swarm of locusts. Many cities have capitulated without a fight at the sight of these warriors, hundreds of thousands of them riding in tight formation, men and women alike. When people saw them for the first time, they thought the Anchin were demons or evil spirits. It's for the best that they surrendered."

"Really! Doesn't seem like a good option to me."

The alchemist sighed. "With the Anchin, surrendering is the only real option. Those who do are always spared. Those who resist are killed to the last. I think this behavior may have helped spread the myth that they were of a demonic nature."

I smiled. "Spirits, ghosts, and demons are the simplest way of explaining the unknown."

"Not always; when no logical explanation can be found, often ghosts or demons are involved."

Taken aback, I looked at the alchemist with wide eyes. "You believe in ghosts! You—a man of science."

"Who said one can't believe in both."

"I . . . I . . . never thought this possible."

The alchemist shrugged. "It is for me."

I thought it best if I didn't speak any longer; I was too choked up by emotions to find anything remotely coherent to say. Somehow, I had always assumed that if I allowed myself to believe in the occult, I wouldn't be able to devote myself to science.

After an awkward moment of silence, the alchemist asked, "You haven't told me the reason you climbed up my tower, Prince Amir. Were you, as I first thought, visiting the ladies that share it with me?"

"What ladies?"

"Countess Ivana and Lady Isabo. Both are annoying. If you ask me, all women are. The pretty one is nosy, with all her entertaining and friends coming and going from her room. And the other, the plain looking one, she stinks up the whole place with her potion-making. She prides herself a potion-maker and a healer, that one. If you ask me she's worse than the other."

I stared at Milo. "So the room that smells of herbs is hers. Alchemist, what sort of potions does she make?"

"Witch's brews by the smell. She makes a decent tonic, I must say. The queen takes it every day. "

"How long has she been making tonics for the queen?"

"Oh, years."

"Is that the truth, huh?"
And the queen has been sick for years. Strange coincidence.
"Do you know how one can meet the queen?"

"Certainly. Send her a note requesting an audience. The queen rarely refuses a formal request."

I smiled. I intended to do just that.

Following the alchemist's advice, as soon as I got back to my room, I sent a written note to the queen requesting an audience with her. The day ended without receiving an answer, and by noon the next day I began worrying. Although I didn't expect to receive her reply that same day, her lack of response made me nervous nonetheless.

"Have you thought of what you will bring her, if she agrees to see you?" asked Milo.

I winced. My talent at gift giving was so disastrous that at this point the idea alone of having to choose one frightened me. Not feeling up to the task, I decided to postpone that dreaded chore and remained comfortably seated in front of the roaring fireplace. Here, at least, I incurred no danger and could rest easy.

TAP, TAP, TAP
.

The light knocking at my door was unexpected at this time of day.

Milo was there in the blink of an eye. However, before opening the door, he turned to me and in a voice betraying a hint of apprehension said, "I hope it's not that
perfumed
prince again." His comment didn't surprise me. I had noted that Milo had developed a profound dislike for Diego.

I shrugged. "He's not that unpleasant." Thinking of it now, I'd grown to enjoy Diego's companionship—if nothing else, he was entertaining. I grinned broadly and said, "Open the door, Milo."

Bearing a look of resignation, Milo obeyed and opened the door. "Princess Eva, what a pleasure to see you here," said Milo with obvious relief.

Upon hearing my beloved's name, I leapt to my feet and made a mad dash to the door. "Eva," I whispered, slightly out of breath, while gazing at her with the same overwhelming amazement as when I had seen her for the first time. She wore a thick blue-velvet hood and cape over her bright yellow dress. Her cheeks were reddened by the cold, her eyes sparkled with excitement, and the gold curls tumbling out of her hood framed her face perfectly. Right then, I found her more beautiful than ever.

"Why have you stayed away from me for so long?" The resentment in my voice was biting. And as I watched her lovely smile fade, I regretted having spoken those words of displeasure.

Her smooth brow furrowed. "Amir! I thought we settled this at the ball. You said you understood my need to spend some time alone with my family. Why are you reproaching me now? "

Gripped by a sudden panic, I seized her gloved hands. "Pardon me, my love. I've been sick with worry about you and your family. I was desperate to see you, but helpless to do so. I hope you understand how upsetting this can be for me."

The furrow on her brow eased, and she smiled at me. "I know. I've left you alone with no friend to speak to for far too long. Although, I've heard that you and Prince Diego went riding the other day."

"He's hardly a substitute for you. I would've greatly preferred to spend that time in your company."

Her gloved hand caressed my cheek lightly. Then Eva rose on her tiptoes and softly brushed her lips over my chin and mouth. Liquid fire spread through my entire body. I bent down and captured her mouth with mine. Meanwhile my hands went in quest of her waist hidden underneath her thick cape, as I tried holding on to her, so that the kiss would last longer. But she slipped out of my arms before I could gain a good grip.

Sidestepping me, Eva entered the room. "Milo," she said, acknowledging his presence. Then she pushed back her hood, releasing a cascade of golden curls, and stared about the room. An expression of consternation invaded her features.

She clucked her tongue.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk
. Father did this on purpose. I cannot believe it. The man is so stubborn. Gah! That makes me so mad."

I made an attempt at a smile to hide the extent of my distress, but only wound up thinning my lips. "Your father really dislikes me. Eva, I'm afraid he'll never agree to our union. No matter what I do. The man is impossible to please—not by me anyway." I felt my chest tightening, and I had to let out a long sigh just to ease the pressure around it.

Head tilted, Eva turned loving eyes toward me. "All is not lost, Amir. We do have an ally. A very powerful and influential one."