Lady Antoinette!” called a voice. “Lady Antoinette!” There was a sharp knock on the chamber door. “It is Lady Merewen.”
Antoinette struggled to wake up. She rubbed her eyes and slowly sat up in bed.
“Lady Antoinette,” Lady Merewen called. “We leave within the hour! May I come in?”
“It was a dream,” Antoinette said, relieved as she went to open the door.
“Lady Merewen, is it morning already?”
“No, the other knights have been restless and could not sleep. We are preparing to leave. I have been sent to help you with your armor, and Aelic is packing your steed. You must hurry.”
“Okay, hold your horses,” Antoinette said sleepily.
There was a silence, and then Lady Merewen explained, “We are not riding horses, Lady Antoinette. Our unicorns are more fleet-footed!”
Lady Merewen helped Antoinette quickly dress. They threw a few personal belongings into a satchel. Then, Antoinette patted the sleeping Brindle lightly on the head. “You’ll be much safer here,” she said.
In only moments, Lady Merewen was hurrying down the stairway to the main gatehouse. “Hurry, Lady Antoinette. Kaliam grows anxious about the situation in Yewland, and he is ready to leave.”
“Has something changed?” Antoinette asked.
“Not long ago, a message arrived from Queen Illaria. It was ripe with veiled threats about dissolving our alliance. That would be a terrible loss to The Realm, to say nothing of the blow it would deal to Alleble’s armies—Yewland’s archers are unsurpassed.”
“And this is all because someone pretending to be an ambassador from Alleble is ruining things over there?”
“An imposter, yes,” Lady Merewen replied. “He has somehow convinced the Queen that Alleble requires tribute in gold—and Blackwood weaponry. The latter is more dear to them and most painfully would that be paid. It is Yewland’s custom to gather timber only from limbs and trees that have fallen—and given the strength of those towering trees, that does not happen that often. Every bow, shaft, or staff made from the Blackwood is coveted throughout The Realm. Now it seems that the first messenger we sent to Yewland to warn them of the imposter has not returned, and Kaliam fears he is in the hands of our enemy. We must go now before the situation worsens beyond repair.”
“How can Paragor get away with this?” Antoinette asked, following Lady Merewen. “Wouldn’t the Queen be able to tell if this ambassador is really from Alleble? I mean, the eyes would give him away, right?”
“That has been so in the past,” Lady Merewen replied. “But there was one other among the Prince’s legions, whose eyes showed blue for a time though all the while his heart was red.”
“Acsriot?”
“You know of his deeds then?” Lady Merewen asked.
Antoinette nodded solemnly. Aidan had told her a little about Acsriot’s betrayal.
“To this day,” Lady Merewen explained, “no one knows how he was able to mask his eyes. But one thing is certain . . . we cannot afford to be fooled again.”
Antoinette wondered about the knights in her dream. Their eyes had changed color after they drank from the goblets. But remembering her promise to Kaliam, she did not speak of her dream.
“If he flees . . . ,” Tobias said as he hunched over a map in the gatehouse. The other eleven knights gathered round. “If the imposter flees Yewland, he will no doubt take the main road out and head northwest, skirting the Endurel River. So I propose we take the trade route ourselves and then strike east just before Zin Lake.”
“You seem so certain,” said Kaliam.
“It is an elementary matter,” Tobias replied. He straightened and gestured as if drawing a picture in the air. Antoinette thought he liked having an audience. “It is very possible that we will snare the imposter while he is still in Yewland. But if he is from Paragory as we suspect, then the western road will be his only escape.”
“What of the Blackwood?” Mallik asked. “Could he not strike a straighter path by cutting across the Blackwood?”
No one answered. A cold wind whipped through the gate, and the torches flickered. The hair on Antoinette’s arms stood up.
Finally, Nock spoke up. “If the imposter is foolish enough to venture into the Blackwood, then we will lose any opportunity to question him. He will not return.”
“What do you mean?” Mallik laughed nervously. “It is merely a patch of woods.”
“Nay, my hammer-wielding friend,” said Nock, clapping Mallik on the shoulder. “That is no simple grove of trees. The Blackwood is the oldest forest in The Realm. It is said that before the first scroll of Alleble was written, King Eliam buried seven powerful ancient enemies there—the Seven Sleepers they were called. It is only the great dark roots of the blackwood trees that keep them from returning.”
“Seven Sleepers?” Mallik scoffed. “You have been listening to too many harvest tales! Next you’ll be spouting off about the Wyrm Lord!”
“Laugh if you wish, Mallik,” Nock said. “But as for me, I would rather wrestle a dragon than go into the Blackwood—especially at night.”
“Seven Sleepers or not,” Kaliam said, “there are other foul things in the Blackwood, that is to be sure. Sir Tobias is right. If our imposter flees, he will strike the main road and run full into our snare. We will travel that way. Your steeds are saddled, ample provisions for the journey to Yewland are packed, and you have your weapons. Let us ride hard now. If we reach the ruins of Torin’s Vale by daybreak, we will rest there for a short while. Then southwest following the road until it turns east before Zin Lake. May King Eliam’s power fill us on this bold venture, for The Realm grows a more dangerous place with each passing day.”
