Chapter Two

Something was wrong. Tallant could see that easily enough, even without the deep, troubled frown marring Milton's face. For one, there was a distinct lack of soldiers. Anywhere. The gates were open and the drawbridge down, but not so much as a single foot soldier was anywhere in sight.

"No guards, no banners—nothing," Milton muttered. "That's not right. I don't see any people, but the place is wide open and there are dragons around."

Tallant looked over the castle and surrounding fields. He could see the chimney smoke of a few house, but from all the stories Milton had told him over the years, he thought he should be able to see more than a few.

"It's spring," Milton said. "I don't understand—the castle should be spilling over with people and activity."

"I guess we're about to find out," Tallant said as they approached the lowered drawbridge.

They were barely halfway across when two men, almost completely identical in appearance, slunk from the shadows and stood in their path. "Well, now," said the one on Tallant's right. "You're a pretty elf, and no mistake. Not one to be trifled with though, a regular marke by the look of you."

Tallant frowned. Why were a couple of guards all the way out here speaking thieves cant? Marke meant 'blood elf', a derogatory term for a battle mage.

"Watch it," Milton said. "You've no place here, so get lost or I'll get rid of you myself."

The men, obviously twins, burst into laughter. The one on the left grinned. "Sorry, flik, but we were put on gate duty by Rasnake himself. We're supposed to be here."

"By who?" Milton asked, looking more lost and frustrated than ever.

Rasnake meant dragon killer in thieves cant, but Tallant had never heard it used a form of address, merely an adjective. "There shouldn't be any dragons around here to kill. What's going on?"

The right most twin looked at Tallant, impressed and amused. "You speak the cant, marke?"

"Obviously," Tallant said, voice cool. "Who is this Rasnake and why are you taking orders from him?"

The left most twin leveled a pensive gaze on Milton. "Lord Marden is gone mad these past ten years, and Lady Irene joined the missing several days ago, and until this morning Rasnake was the only real leader left. As to who, well, you should know him, flik. You've got his eyes and his crooked nose—and his temper I'd bet."

"What—Cecil—" Milton burst out. "My brother—"

The right most brother stopped him with a hand on his chest, as Milton tried to finish crossing the drawbridge and enter the castle proper. "Steady, flik."

"I am not a flik," Milton said, glaring at him in a way that should have the guy worried, but Tallant wasn't going to tell him that. He also did not bother to point out to Milton that he was, in fact, flik—thieves cant for 'fire'.

"I want to see my brother," Milton said coldly, knocking the man's hand away.

The brothers shrugged. "No one can see him. He was arrested a couple days ago for the murder of one of the missing girls, and once he tells them where he stashed the others, they're going to hang him."

"What—" Milton roared, and tried again to cross the drawbridge. When they tried to stop him, and were actually stupid enough to grab him to do it, Tallant ducked discreetly out of the way and fed Milton energy through their bond.

The soldiers were good, very good in fact, he would give them that. But Milton pissed off and worried about someone… if an entire band of robbers couldn't stop Milton in a temper, these two never stood a chance. Milton knocked the one off his feet with a punch the guy never saw coming, then drew his sword and rounded on the other, knocking the man's sword away and hitting him hard with the flat of the blade. When the other brother regained his feet and came at him again, Milton grabbed the first, threw him into the second, then ran at both of them and sent them over the side of the bridge, staring until they hit the water with a resounding splash.

Tallant rolled his eyes. "Peace, Milton. You'll get answers out of no one if you toss them all into the moat." He peered over the edge, watching idly as the brothers surfaced and began to climb out of the moat, hurtling epithets and obscenities up at them. "Not much on gate duty, are they?"

Milton snorted, and strode on.

The courtyard was almost entirely deserted; only a couple of servants, some chickens, and a tired old dog filled the space. That was strange enough for any castle, but for the castle of the Duke of Fendal? The wrongness grew deeper and stranger with every step.

He turned sharply, hand going to his sword, at the sound of movement, but relaxed as he saw it was an old, haggard looking man who could probably barely manage to lift a spoon. The man's eyes widened as they landed on Milton. "Bless me! Master Milton, is that you?"

"Henry," Milton said, sounding relieved. "A familiar face. Thank god. Where are Cecil and Irene? What the hell is going on here?"

Looking suddenly twice his age, Henry said, "A lot, Master Milton, and none of it good. But it's good to see you." He flicked a curious glance at Tallant.

Milton motioned impatiently. "Where is Irene? What is going on and what is all this bloody nonsense about Cecil in jail for murder—and what's with the dragons?"

Henry looked too weary to continue standing. "There's a lot to explain, I'm afraid. If you'll come inside—"

"I don't want—"

Tallant knocked him upside the head, and met Milton's subsequent glare unflinchingly. "Shut up and calm down. Listen to what he has to say, then we'll know how to save your brother, flik."

"Shut up," Milton retorted sourly, but motioned for Henry to lead the way. He led them into the castle, through to a private solar behind the great hall. "This place…" Milton looked horrified, weary. "It's all wrong. Why?" He sat down heavily in a chair that had seen better days, looking around the room, looked devastated.

Tallant leaned against a table in equally sorry condition, accepting the goblet of raw, dark wine Henry gave him with quiet thanks.

Henry drank his own wine, and sat down, saying, "A year or so after you left, Master Milton, Lord Marden went completely mad. He got so bad that Lady Irene conspired with the duke's council to lock him in his tower. He remains there now. Lady Irene assumed his duties, but not another year had gone by when the wards broke. Not far from here is a two mile stretch of land where the wards were suddenly gone. We have tried to repair them over the years, but haven't been able to manage it. Every time we try, the work unweaves itself again. The dragons came through…" He drifted off, clearly fighting tears.

He didn't need to explain for them to understand what must have happened. No one in this country had needed to fight dragons for nearly a hundred years. Hell, even back home, dragons were no longer a threat. He and Milton had avoided death the other night mostly because of dumb luck, and partly because they had a wide enough range of experience and knowledge lent them by their travels—experience and knowledge that soldiers of a safe, cozy kingdom in a quiet village would not possess.

"We lost more than I can bear to count," Henry finally said. "Her Grace sent many out to defend the nearby villages, but too many have fallen to those damned dragons. It was not until Rasnake and his friends—"

Milton frowned. "Why do you call Cecil that?"

"No one has called your brother Cecil in years, Master Milton. It was him and his thief friends what turned the tide, and have managed to hold the line all these years. Even now, they continue to protect us while Rasnake is locked up because of those imbeciles."

Tallant poured them all more wine, then gently prodded, "What happened?"

"Fifteen," Henry said sadly. "One at first, then two more, then three, on and on it went—and now Lady Irene herself. Fifteen young women just stolen from their beds without a trace. No one could find them, and we have scoured these woods and even farther afield, from beginning to end. We've never managed to turn up so much as a clue. Two days ago, some men were out hunting for food and found one of them. The youngest girl, the first to go missing, was found dead. She was wearing a ball gown and dancing slippers." Tears fell down his cheeks, and he pulled out a dirty kerchief to blow his nose. "She was only twelve. Her shoes were so torn up and bloodied, it looked like she had worn them out dancing, but she must have been running for her life."

Milton shook his head. "I don't see why Cecil—"

"Because she was holding a trinket he had made," Henry said. "No one else can make those clever little toys. She was gripping it as though her life depended upon it, and those fools took it as evidence that he is the murderer."

Tallant made a face. "That proves absolutely nothing; how can they get away with it?"

Henry's face twisted with bitterness. "They are desperate for blood, for explanation, for resolution. They want someone to blame for something, and they were never happy that she married him."

Milton frowned. "Huh? Who married who, and who is they?"

Henry eyed him cautiously, then said gently, "They as in the council, or what's left of it. When the dragons attacked and everything started to go so wrong, Her Grace feared for her people should she suffer the same madness as her father, or die in the midst of all this trouble. She did not want foreigners coming and taking the kingdom, nor did she want a civil war tearing it apart from the inside. She married Rasnake so that there would be someone she trusted to take care of them, should the worst come to pass."

Tallant winced. The only two things Milton talked about constantly—incessantly—were his little brother and Lady Irene. Milton had only left twelve years ago because Marden had caught him and Irene together in a compromising situation. He had told Milton to leave, or be hanged. Milton had left, but he wore the pendant Irene had given him as devoutly as Tallant wore his fate token.

Milton's face went carefully blank. "My brother married Irene?"

"She felt it was her only option," Henry said gently, eyeing him warily. "They are friends, the very best of; you would have to talk to them to better understand. Unfortunately, that is not possible right now."

Tallant stirred. "I know he is in jail, but I am afraid that we really must see him. Surely leniency can be granted for a brother returned after twelve years, and greeted with such devastating news."

Henry turned to him. "Begging your pardon, but who the hell are you?"

"My name is Tallant Delarma. I'm a battle mage and Milton's battle-bonded. He was gracious enough to invite me to join him on his long-awaited return home. I am sorry you have all been facing so much trouble; if we'd known, we would have come sooner. I promise we will do all that we can to help you solve these problems. But first, we must speak with Cecil."

"Battle-bonded, huh?" I guess you're the polite half," Henry said with a trace of humor. "Milton and Cecil both are too…"

"Flik?" Tallant offered dryly.

"Yes," Henry said, smiling again briefly. "Far too flik for manners." He turned to Milton, brief levity fading. "I'm glad you're home, Master Milton. Maybe you can fix everything that has gone so wrong with Rasnake, with Her Grace—with everything."

Milton stirred at that, frowning. "Why is he called that? My brother reads books and carves toys for children. He was a scholar, and could not hold a sword properly to save his life."

"Strife changed him," Henry said quietly. "He can hold far more than a sword, and has saved all of our lives innumerable times. I warn you now that the man you are about to see has nothing in common with the boy you left behind twelve years ago."

"Take me to him," Milton said, and rose.

Henry nodded. "This way." He led the way out of the castle and across the back fields, to where the jail was located in one of the south guard towers. "Master Milton, please keep in mind that much has happened. The little boy you knew is gone—"

"Open the damn door," Milton snapped.

Sighing, Henry unlocked the heavy door. Tallant stepped forward to pull it open, for which Henry looked immensely grateful. Henry entered first, followed by Milton, and Tallant trailed along behind them.