Their quest had begun with Twelve Knights, but in a matter of days, decimated by a Tempest and treason, their number had dwindled to two. And the storm on the Grimwalk had taken more than just their companions. They had no unicorns, no spare clothing, no fresh water, and very little food. After eating the last of the dried meat from their pouches, Aidan and Gwenne rested for a short time before making their way between huge humps of moss across the plains to Mithegard. Now it was up to the two of them to complete the mission for King Eliam and the Kingdom of Alleble.
“So the Glimpses of Mithegard haven’t decided whether to join Paragory or Alleble?” Aidan asked, still picking pieces of purple moss out of his hair. “And we’re supposed to help them understand that Alleble is the right way to go?”
“Yes, Aidan,” Gwenne replied. “Mithegard is an ancient kingdom, and they have great pride in their own sovereignty. For ages, they have turned aside all offers of allegiance from Paragory, as well as those from Alleble. It is said, however, that their new ruler, King Ravelle, is more open to agreements.”
“But if the Prince is so totally evil, why would anyone follow him?” Aidan asked.
Gwenne smiled sadly. “Lies, Sir Aidan . . . lies. You see, the Prince promises wealth, power, fame—anything a Glimpse might desire! He gives them all of these things to try to trick them out of what they truly need . . . the peace and love that can be found only in the Kingdom of Alleble. Many Glimpses are fooled by the Prince and willingly become his servants. He is wicked but cunning beyond compare.”
“So what chance will the two of us have compared to the might of the Prince and his armies?”
Looking him straight in his eyes, she replied, “Very little chance, Aidan. Even were our party of twelve still intact, we would accomplish nothing by force of arms. Mithegard is a powerful realm. Their mounted cavalry is fierce, and their foot soldiers are valiant. It is for this reason alone that Paragor has not before now attempted to overthrow Mithegard by force. But his dark armies have grown. Even the famed Seven Towers of Mithegard may not withstand Paragor’s new strength. And so, we come bearing only truth, our greatest weapon. We bring King Eliam’s offer in peace—and should they refuse, we will depart in peace.”
Aidan pondered Gwenne’s words as they approached the great outer walls of the city. Mithegard was not as vast or as tall as Alleble, but its grandeur was in the craft of its design.
“Mallik told me once that his people constructed these walls,” Gwenne explained. “They are not made with stones and mortar in the traditional way. Instead, his people carved whole slivers of granite from the Blue Mountains and cut them into solid blocks as tall as a man and as wide as a young dragon, tail to snout. Do you see the blue color in the stone of the walls?”
“Yes; it’s in the castle too!” Aidan replied, looking up beyond the walls to the magnificent blue castle with seven towers.
“Mallik’s people carried each block sixty leagues,” Gwenne continued. “Then, they were shaped and assembled such that they fit together perfectly, so perfectly that not even a hair can be passed through their joints.”
Aidan had trouble carrying a couple of gallons of milk from the van to the house. He could not imagine what a massive block of solid granite would weigh. He thought of how strong and crafty the Glimpses of the Blue Mountains must be. And . . . he thought of Mallik.
Mithegard’s front gate, an enormous triple portcullis, was raised, and a pair of tall, well-armed Glimpse knights stood at attention on each side of the entrance. Each of the Mithegard Knights wore a pale blue tunic over his shining armor. They stared at Aidan and Gwenne as they approached. Aidan stared back, for there was something different about these Glimpses, but he wasn’t sure what.
“A little far away from home, are we?” one of the Mithegard Knights asked scornfully. “We seldom have such young visitors from Alleble!”
The other Mithegard Knights laughed. “Yes, do the elders in your land allow their youths to venture out so far from home?”
Aidan bit his tongue. Okay, I’m pretty much a little squirt, he thought. But insulting Gwenne? This has to stop!
Hand on the hilt of Sil Furyn, Aidan stepped toward the first knight, but Gwenne gently but firmly held out an arm to hold Aidan back.
“We have business in the city,” said Gwenne. “We were told that Glimpses here are friendly, so we should have no fear to travel here.”
“Oh, but we are friendly,” said the first knight. He made a show of stooping so he could look eye to eye with Aidan. “And you are welcome to enter. Join the many guests who have arrived of late. And, there’s a toy shop near the fifth tower for your, hmmm, business.”
All four of the knights shared a great laugh at this. Aidan wanted to draw his sword and cut off the Glimpse’s nose. Toys, indeed!
Aidan and Gwenne entered the walled city and marveled at the formidable defenses. Beyond the first wall and the triple portcullis stood another immense wall, this one much higher and pitted with narrow windows, through which volleys of arrows could be fired. Bands of archers could just barely be seen along the length of the inner wall.
As they passed through the gatehouse of the inner wall, they saw enormous barracks for Mithegard’s soldiers. Aidan had no doubt that knights armed to the teeth would issue forth like hornets if the city was attacked.
Once beyond the defenses, they found Mithegard strangely empty. There were a few Glimpses here and there: a blacksmith sitting by his hot kiln and hammering out shoes for a unicorn, a woman hanging wedges of various cheeses in a storefront window, and, of course, Glimpse children scurrying about. But it wasn’t the expected bustle of thousands of Glimpses, out traveling and doing business on the city’s many shop-filled avenues.
“So, where is everyone?” Aidan asked. “The guards said there are a lot of visitors.”
“I do not know, Sir Aidan,” Gwenne replied. “Seeing this grand city so lifeless gives me an uneasy feeling.”
“Maybe we should go to the castle. There has to be someone there,” Aidan suggested.
“Yes,” Gwenne agreed. “Perhaps we can find answers there.”
They navigated the city’s many streets until, finally, they arrived at the castle’s front gate. It was open, but there were four more Mithegard Knights standing guard.
Aidan and Gwenne made it clear that they were planning to cross the drawbridge and enter the castle. But the knights moved in front of the gate to block them.
“Where do you think you are going, young Allebs?” one of the knights asked.
Not again! Aidan thought.
“We are here to see the King of Mithegard,” Gwenne answered, trying to sound important. She apparently was also fed up with being called a child. “We are on an errand for His Majesty, the noble King Eliam of Alleble.”
“Oh, really?” sneered the knight, and the others smirked. “Well, I’m afraid King Ravelle is a little busy now holding court. So . . . why don’t you take your little blue-eyed self back to Alleble?!”
The four knights laughed and then stared at Gwenne and Aidan, apparently expecting them to leave. Then, finally, Aidan discovered what was different about them.
All the Glimpses of Alleble had eyes that glinted blue, but these four Mithegard Glimpses, and the others outside the city, had eyes that flashed bright green!
Mallik was right . . . the eyes do tell the tale.
“Good Knights of Mithegard,” Gwenne spoke again. She stood to her full height and cast a disdainful look upon the guards. “I shudder to think of what Captain Valithor would do to those who insulted citizens of Alleble . . .”
The guards stopped laughing as if the air had been vacuumed right out of their lungs.
“C-Captain Valithor!” one of the guards stuttered. “He’s coming here?!”
Gwenne grinned. “As a matter of fact, we were traveling with him, but a great storm separated us. We hope he will be along any day now.”
The guards looked terrified. Apparently, Captain Valithor was well known—and feared outside Alleble as well! Apologizing continuously, the guards stepped aside and allowed Aidan and Gwenne to enter the castle.
Once past the gate, they entered a great hallway decorated with ornate banners and tapestries. They had barely gone ten steps when Aidan stopped.
“Why did you say that Captain Valithor would be coming?”
Aidan asked solemnly. “He’s probably dead.”
Gwenne nodded. “I didn’t say he was coming. I said we hoped he was coming—and we do! Right?”
Aidan agreed. Captain Valithor was as tough as they came, and Aidan certainly hoped he had somehow made it through the Tempest.
“Sir Aidan, I hear voices up ahead,” Gwenne said, starting to walk on. “I am anxious to see with whom the King of Mithegard is holding court.”
“But, Gwenne,” Aidan persisted, grabbing Gwenne’s arm. “Did you see? Their eyes sparkled with green!”
Gwenne seemed stunned momentarily. Her cheeks grew pink in embarrassment. “I cannot believe I have not explained this to you before now. The eyes—”
“No, that’s okay. Mallik told me about it. Blue for those who serve Alleble. Green for the undecided. Red for the followers of Paragor.”
“That’s exactly right.”
“But what about Acsriot?” Aidan asked. “His eyes changed from blue to red.”
“I do not know how Acsriot was able to do it,” Gwenne replied. “Acsriot was a master of all the herbs and elements in The Realm. Or perhaps Paragor has taught his minions some foul new art.”
“But what about my eyes, Gwenne?” Aidan began, alarm in his voice. “My eyes are blue, but they don’t glint any color at all. What does that mean?”
“It means, Sir Aidan . . . ,” she began thoughtfully. “You are not a Glimpse. Your eyes do not change unless—”
Gwenne never finished the sentence, for several trumpet blasts shattered the quiet and echoed throughout the enormous arched hall. Gwenne immediately ran down the hallway. And Aidan, dumbfounded as usual, tried to keep up.
Eventually, they found themselves at the doorway to the Throne Room of Mithegard. But they couldn’t get in or even see in because of the mass of Glimpses who had gathered there. Gwenne spotted a door off to the side of the throne room. “This way, Sir Aidan,” she said, gesturing. “Most castles have passages to allow servants special access to their royalty.”
She was right! The passage led them right to the head of the room, only ten yards back diagonally from the King’s throne! Because they were slightly behind the throne, they couldn’t see the King, but they could see almost everyone in the crowd.
And because they were peeking out between two curtains, no one noticed them there. Aidan turned to Gwenne to speak, but she looked stricken. If it were possible, her skin looked even whiter than usual! Then, Aidan looked out into the assembly and saw immediately what had affected Gwenne. He, too, fell silent.
There in the center of the throne room was a large band of Glimpse knights. They were dressed in black armor streaked violently with scarlet, and each knight had the same terrible stabbing red eyes. They were armed, and their shields bore a strange red symbol that looked like an inverted crown. They were the Knights of Paragor.
One of them, a particularly menacing Glimpse who wore all black armor with a dark red hooded robe, stood in front of the rest. His face looked stretched and aged, and his eyes seemed somewhat sunken beneath his wildly bushy gray brows. On his forehead he wore a gold circlet. A confident smile played across his lips as if he were the King of Mithegard and ruled all before him.
“That is Lord Rucifel, the enemy’s second in command,” Gwenne explained. “Paragor does not usually send him forth as an ambassador. I wonder what that could mean.”
Aidan shuddered. There seemed to be something dark and venomous that emanated from the warriors of Paragory. But Lord Rucifel was far worse than the rest. His sunken eyes and stretched face made Aidan think of things that were dead and decaying.
“Worthy King Ravelle, it is my honor to appear before you,” Lord Rucifel began, his voice high and musical, dripping with flattery as he spoke to the unseen ruler of Mithegard. “Under your mighty hand, Mithegard with its famed seven towers has become a thriving kingdom.”
Cheers erupted, mostly from the other Paragor Knights. Their commander was a crafty speaker, and they hung on every word.
“We come in peace from Paragory, yet another prosperous land—your nearest neighbor to the south. And we seek to form an agreement. An agreement, noble King, that would make both of our lands more wealthy and powerful than our wildest, most fantastic dreams.”
The ambassador paused to let each Glimpse of Mithegard imagine matchless armies and vaults full of gold. They would fantasize themselves into a greedy trance—just as he had planned.
“The mighty Prince of Paragory,” the ambassador continued, “has asked me to present you with a gift if I may. It was forged by the Prince’s personal blacksmith in the fires deep beneath the Prince’s Crown. Please accept this gift as a pledge of friendship from the land of Paragory.”
The ambassador unwrapped a long bundle, revealing an unbelievably marvelous sword. Its grip was polished silver with six red gems set in the hilt. Its blade, however, was what caused many jaws to drop and eyes to stare. The blade was black and reflective as if it had been dipped in a dark ink that never dried. It looked beautiful and priceless. Even Aidan, though he already had a magnificent blade, found himself desiring the dark sword.
Rucifel bowed in an exaggerated fashion and held out the sword with both hands. Aidan and Gwenne watched as the King of Mithegard stood up from his throne and walked down the four steps to where Lord Rucifel knelt.
King Ravelle was a tall, dark-haired Glimpse, and he wore a splendid blue robe that shimmered as he walked. Aidan watched the King take the sword from Lord Rucifel. Aidan still could not see the King’s face, but he could easily hear him when he spoke.
“On behalf of Mithegard,” the King announced, “we welcome you into our land. And though there is much to discuss before we will be bound by any agreement, we gladly accept your token of friendship!”
There was deafening applause. The Glimpses of Mithegard seemed only too happy to welcome evil into their kingdom. Gwenne shook her head sadly. Paragor’s ambassadors had reached Mithegard first. They had come with a full brigade of knights in full armor. And they brought a special gift and promises of much more.
Gwenne and Aidan had no ambassador. They had no sparkling gifts. Their mission had just become immeasurably more difficult.
But Aidan wasn’t thinking about the mission. All he could think about was the voice of King Ravelle. His voice was so familiar—but that wasn’t possible, was it? Aidan had never been to The Realm before. Aidan had never met a Glimpse before. And he certainly had not met the King of Mithegard before! Still, his voice sounded so similar to someone else’s.
But whose?
The answer was there, flitting around in Aidan’s mind, but he just couldn’t grasp it. Aidan stared at the back of the King who was talking privately to Lord Rucifel.
“C’mon, come on . . . turn around,” Aidan muttered to himself. “I know you. I know I know you—just turn around so I can see your face.”
As if in answer to Aidan’s silent command, the King of Mithegard turned to hand the dark sword to a nearby servant.
For the first time, Aidan saw King Ravelle’s face. Aidan choked and staggered backward from the curtain. There was a sharp ringing in his ears. Blackness swirled in from the fringes of his vision.
