The Mage in the Iron Mask - Brian Thomsen [37]
Poins quickly made his escape to aid Hotspur in the kitchen, while Hal led their blind master to his favorite seat, out by the villa's gate.
The sun's rays were warm and glorious as it neared its peak above the horizon. The master swordsman took his place as if on guard duty for his morning vigil of solar absorption, the warm rays reflecting on his still glistening body.
* * * * *
The Tharchioness's Boudoir in the Tower of the Wyvern:
The First Princess had risen in solitude hours after the First Blade had stolen from their chambers like a thief in the night. She was glad that he was gone, and hoped that her labors of the previous evening had not been for naught.
The High Blade was always under the mistaken impression that she never rose before the noon hour, and she had no intention of disabusing him of this notion. She had always asked not to be disturbed until then, and he had naturally assumed that it was the sanctity of her slumbers that she wished to preserve.
Such was not the case.
Her mornings in Mulmaster betwixt the hour of her husband's departure and her own appearance at the midday meal were important, as they were the hours that she set aside for planning and consultation with her own advisors.
The High Blade's courtiers gossiped among themselves about the many frequent visitors to the First Princess's boudoir, and she did little to discourage them. Their assumptions of promiscuity shielded her from their possible detection of her seditious plans, and did little to elevate their opinions of the High Blade who they now saw as just another simple cuckold toyed with by his opportunistic wife.
A cautious series of knocks at the door indicated that her advisors had arrived. Slipping into her sheer silk robe, she went to the door and bade them enter.
The ambassador that she referred to as a corpse worm (and who she assumed would be executed at her whim sometime prior to her return to Eltabbar) led the group of three into her boudoir.
The three males did their best to avert their eyes from the partially open silken robe that did little to hide the beauty of the form that resided beneath it. Mischa Tam, the only female among the advisors, noticed their discomfort and made subtle eye contact with her superior and shared a silent laugh with the Tharchioness who considered such silly prudishness to be hypocritical at best.
The First Princess rearranged her silken wrap cinching it at her waste. She had no desire to provide any of her advisors with an excuse for not devoting their full attention to the matters at hand, even when such things did provide the Tharchioness and her female companion with much amusement.
"Reports," she commanded.
"Perhaps you would prefer to wait for the arrival of breakfast…" the wormlike ambassador began to suggest, but quickly changed gears in response to the Tharchioness's withering stare. "As you wish, your majesty. It would appear that the High Blade's men have been unsuccessful on three charged accounts and men have been executed as a result."
The Tharchioness licked her lips as if savoring some rare delicacy. "I can always count on my husband being just as demanding as I am," she replied to no one in particular.
"Yes, your majesty," the ambassador continued. "Their continued search for the body of the prisoner has turned up naught, and they have accepted that it will never be recovered."
"Thus we are back to square one."
"Yes, your majesty," the worm continued quickly, "though the High Blade has also ordered a search for a certain thespian named Passepout and a travel writer named Volothamp Geddarm. There have been vague suspicions that these two might be related to the prisoner in some way."
"Hmmmn," the Tharchioness muse. "Find out more. I want them located and apprehended before my husband gets his sweaty hands on them."
"Wh…" the ambassador began to question, then thought better of it. "Yes, your majesty."
"You may leave," the Tharchioness instructed.
The ambassador became flustered, and said, "But there is more to report."
"The