♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝
Chapter 77: A Messenger in Red
After months of careful planning, observation, and meticulous preparation for the Pope’s arrival, Percy couldn’t help but feel ill at ease at the constant tangle of knots in his carefully spun web.
‘I can only hope that Eleanora will remain patient a little while longer. And that Duchess Kirsi comes to the Capital today as planned so I can remove whatever specter is pushing the Crown Princess towards suicide.’
In the chaos of these unexpected hiccups, the Earl had almost overlooked the curious act of murder between two Witch Hunters outside a simple carpenter’s shop. What little the pure-blood knew of the Witch Hunter Order implied that such an act was equally unforgettable and unforgivable. His curiosity piqued, the Earl kept a crow on the killer’s tail and returned to the more pressing matter of luring the Pope away from the cathedral.
Percy had expected the rebellious Witch Hunter to run, but instead, the half-witch stayed and even went so far as to reach out to a pair of Lafearian knights in an attempt to contact Knight Commander Quentin. When the half-witch removed his cover to identify himself to the Knight, Percy recognized the Lieutenant right away. He promptly called his carriage driver to a halt and disembarked to borrow one of his mercenaries’ horses.
“My Lord, is there a problem?”
Percy glanced back from his saddle, only half-surprised to find that Lady Neera Gladstone had left her assigned carriage behind his and taken another horse from the Earl’s mercenaries to follow behind him. The female pure-blood air witch, with a unique ability to neutralize just about any attack, had been assigned to the Witch King by the Nocturnem Coven in light of the Pope and Witch Hunter’s presence.
It was just as likely that Viscount Gladstone hoped the assignment would present an opportunity for Neera to win favor with the Earl, but Percy didn’t hold that against the young pure-blood, who showed little to no interest in him beyond his security.
“Nothing serious, Lady Neera. I want to check up on some unusual activity in the market district. You’re free to come along if you wish.”
“Thank you, my Lord,” Neera responded politely as she mounted her horse, then sent the raven circling above her head north to report their change in plans to the Coven.
‘With two pure-bloods, we should be more than capable of handling any Witch Hunter’s we meet.’
Percy nudged the sable brown stallion beneath him and quickly continued to where his watcher continued to observe the knights and half-witch’s argument and subsequent, awkward agreement. They appeared to be headed in the direction of the Palace gate, which on intrigued the Earl further.
‘What on earth is a Knight of Lafeara doing dressed as a Witch Hunter anyway?’
The Earl’s puzzled curiosity quickly turned sharp alarm when four Witch Hunters descended on the Lieutenant and his knight escorts just as they were closing in.
“I sense four—no five Witch Hunter’s, your Grace,” Neera observed nervously.
“I know. They’re hunting one of their own. We need to get to him first!”
The pure-blood glanced at him doubtfully but kept silent as they veered around the corner and sped past the fallen knight with an arrow through his neck and thigh. Percy signaled Neera and hastily blocked his ears before the pure-blood beside him emitted her shrill vocal attack more commonly known as the Siren’s Scream.
It was a small mercy the mortal knights were already dead. The Witch Hunters stumbled around in shock even as they closed in on Lieutenant Declan.
Not wanting to give them any chance to recover, Percy channeled the power of Veles through his ancestral ring as a blade of air cut horizontally through the street, splitting stone and wood as it slammed into the Witch Hunters and knocked them aside.
Their scarlet armor saved them, but the sparks and dented metal showed significant damage. The first one to get back on her feet was a young female Witch Hunter with striking violet-blue eyes. The woman angrily wiped away the blood dripping from her ears and then slammed her right fist into the ground between them.
Cobblestone, soil, and root curled up to form an earth barrier around her and the nearest collapsed Witch Hunter.
“Keep them pinned down,” Percy said coldly as he passed Neera, who was straining to hold her vocal attack. The Earl quickly dragged Declan up from his curled-up position on the ground onto his feet. A warning flare of magic alerted Percy to the burning arrow that sped towards Declan’s unprotected head. The Earl snatched the arrow, snuffing out the flames with a single touch, then hurled Declan over his shoulder towards Neera as another Witch Hunter hurled a glass cylinder towards him.
The Siren’s scream cut off abruptly as the street filled with a green gas that little resembled the bluish-gray smoke he had noticed when entering the street. The toxic vapor burned against his eyes and skin even at a distance, forcing Percy to retreat and erect a wind barrier around himself.
“Your Grace!” Neera called out, her tone half-annoyed as she knelt over Declan, who appeared to regain his senses slowly.
“Seal your mind—both of yours!” Percy growled as the onyx ring on his hand hummed with an inaudible vibration of magic. The Earl waved the poisoned gas aside and focused his words and intent on the two Witch Hunter’s immediately visible. “ᛒᚱᛟᚦᛖᚱ ᚲᛟᚾᛊᚢᛗᛖᛊ ᛒᚱᛟᚦᛖᚱ.”
Like puppets pulled by invisible strings, the two Witch Hunters went suddenly ridged, then turned slowly to face each other. As Percy’s command sank its teeth into their body, mind, and subconsciousness, the half-witches charged each other with savage cries that ended abruptly as an arrow pierced through an eye and a mace loudly crushed its way through nose, teeth, and skull.
Percy moved silently towards the erected pile of earth and scowled as a familiar sensation of gravity pressing against his body took hold. He levitated above the crude defensive spell, then extended his hand towards the barrier. A howling storm of cutting wind soon ripped stone and root apart, but before the stone wall fell completely, it exploded towards him as the young female Witch Hunter blitzed towards the Earl with impressive speed and dexterity. He flung her aside with a blast of wind that sent her hurtling through the broken shop window, then turned his attention to where the fourth Witch Hunter was sprinting around the corner in a desperate attempt to flee.
“Neera, finish him.”
“With pleasure,” Neera responded coolly as she leapt towards the nearest rooftop. The purebloods regale blue dress soon vanished from view, and after a brief silence, the Siren’s scream ripped through the air before the market street fell deathly silent once more.
The Earl glanced back at Declan, who knelt on his hands and knees with a dazed expression of confusion. “Stay where you are, Lieutenant Declan,” Percy commanded with a slight push of magic to ensure the half-witch’s behavior. He quickly turned his attention to the Witch Hunter hiding inside the broken shop and followed the sound of her frantically beating heart as he stepped through the broken wall inside.
Percy had expected the Witch Hunter to run, as her comrade had done, but instead found himself forced to deflect a wild kick that met him as soon as he rounded the shop counter. The impact of her attack, lessened somewhat by his barrier, caught the Earl by surprise, but he easily tossed the Witch Hunter aside with another blast of air.
“They should have taught you to pick your fights better. In what world could a half-witch possibly win against a pure-blood.”
The woman spat blood onto the floor and pushed a closed fist against the wall as she struggled to rise. “The battle’s not over yet—and I have a mission to fulfill.”
“Your stubbornness is commendable if not foolish,” Percy smirked as he approached her warily. He could sense the enchantments in her gloves, which remained intact despite the obvious damage to her armor. “I can see why they sent you after him. Earth magic can be particularly troublesome against air witches if used correctly. However, you appear more focused on enhancing your physical strength than your magical potential.”
“I find my fists more reliable than your so-called magic,” the woman snapped, then wiped a trail of blood that ran along her forehead beneath her copper curls as she squared off to face him. “And if it’s all the same to you—I’d rather die on my feet than on my back.”
The Earl snorted in disgust. “I think you’ll find that witches are far less detestable than the priests and mortals you serve.”
The Witch Hunter shook her head and slid into a defensive stance. “What I don’t understand is why you would risk exposure by protecting one of us?”
“Because while the Lieutenant may be a half-witch, he is not one of you,” Percy replied with a smirk. “And given how desperately your Order is to kill him—I imagine he has some rather useful information to share.”
“He killed one of us first,” the woman replied with a glower.
“And yet your Pope would risk a public disturbance and political conflict by ordering you to kill him instead of hand him over to the Lafearian knights?”
Her clenched jaw turned white as she glanced over the Earl’s shoulder towards Delcan’s body in the street. “Then you had better kill me, pure-blood, because I can’t afford to fail again.”
Percy nodded, extended his hand, and beckoned towards her. The Witch Hunter leapt forward without hesitation, the wooden planks beneath her feet shattering as her figure blurred, barely detectable as it zigzagged from side to side and closed in quickly. He side-stepped the fist she sent hurtling towards his chest at the last second and delivered his own punch to her gut.
Her violet-blue eyes went wide before she slumped around his arm and then sagged to the floor. The Earl shook out his numb fist, rolled her over onto her side with his boot to confirm she was immobilized, and then knelt to drag her up over his shoulder before he turned to leave the shop.
“Don’t read too much into this,” Percy warned as her head bounced limply against his back. “Two pairs of eyes are better than one.”
***
The decision to travel by carriage was beginning to irritate Carina. Even with the driver going as fast as the carriage wheels could safely transport them, they would likely not reach the Capital before the hour of Holy Prayer began.
‘At which point the cathedral will be infused with enough holy magic to repel an army of witches.’
The Duchess brushed her fingers absently through the cold locks of pale white hair that draped around her shoulder. Rather than wear her hair up along with her magically enchanted ice armor, Carina had chosen a less threatening appearance that suited a wealthy noble visiting the Capital for such a public event. A contingent of twenty knights, the same number used to escort Hana before, had also been selected to escort her carriage. Captain Silas carried her personal banner at the head of the small entourage, all but daring the Church to make their move.
Carina had chosen this flashy exit from Bastiallano in hopes of luring the spies Pope Jericho had left at the border to follow her. Any that remained would soon be set upon by her growing army of rogue witches—after they had delivered news of her arrival, of course.
Only after the woods of Bastiallano had been cleaned of the Divine Heir’s pests would the Army of Bastiallano begin its march to the Capital, under the command of Captain Arlo. To ensure Bastiallano remained protected, Carina had left a small defensive force at the fortress and sent a messenger to Captain Tybalt at the border to withdraw his troops back to her territories and prepare to ward off any threat of attack.
This use of deception would only hold as long as the Duchess could monopolize the Pope’s attention, either by appearing vulnerable or presenting herself as a direct threat. Carina was prepared to play either part to the fullest so long as it got her an audience with the Crown Prince, whom she hoped to convince to take her side.
‘Everything hinges on Nicholas’s corporation. He has shown little regard for the Church in the past beyond necessary political cooperation—but given that his coronation is to take place tomorrow—’
The Duchess sighed and glanced down at her wrist where Viktor’s bracelet and Isaac’s jewel glittered against her pale skin. ‘Isaac. I need you to travel ahead in your second form to be my eyes and ears. Avoid the cathedral and keep watch over the palace and the Duke Hargreve’s forces.’
The diamond flashed like the sun upon glistening snow as Carina held out her arm and opened the carriage window. The scriva appeared in the form of a giant hawk. Isaac carefully wrapped his talons around her wrist, then bowed his head respectfully before launching through the opening to climb up into the sky above them.
Carina found it surprisingly easy to connect to Isaac and scanned his field of view. Immediately she noticed the group of cloaked riders galling down the country road towards them. Beneath one man’s cloak, she recognized the scarlet armor of a Witch Hunter, but at the end of the small group rode none other than Lord Percy.
‘Now is as good a time as any to test those communication enchants.’ The Duchess smiled grimly and refocused her magic as she telepathically warned Captain Silas of the approaching potential threat.
The driver hastily slowed the team of horses as Silas barked out his orders and the sound of steel being pulled free fluttered around the carriage like metal leaves blown beneath the breeze.
Isaac remained above, his transparent feathered figure allowing him to survey the situation clearly. Percy and the cloaked Witch Hunter left the group of witches behind as they approached.
The carriage stopped at Captain Silas’s command before he rode forward to greet them. “You are barring the road, my Lord. Kindly step aside.”
“I mean no disrespect, Captain,” Percy replied briskly. “I’ve come for an audience with the Duchess regarding a delicate but urgent matter.”
‘Urgent?’ Carina raised a cynical brow. ‘What sort of devious plot is Percy trying to draw me into now?’
“The Duchess has an urgent matter to attend to at the Capital,” Silas replied after a pause. “You may relay your message to her there.”
“Your Grace,” Percy called out over the Captain as he remained patiently in place. “I have information that you might find useful in your attempts to pressure Nicholas to oppose the Pope.”
‘So you already know why I’m headed to the Capital? Why am I not surprised.’
With a silent command, the ice witch signaled Silas, who tightened his grip on the Duchess banner, then moved to the side before signaling Percy forward.
Carina watched the Earl approach through the walls of her carriage, then rose to her feet and opened the door. The look of shock on Percy’s face as he took in her change in appearance did little to amuse her as the Duchess focused on the scarlet armor of the man beside him. “Does your urgent business have anything to do with this Witch Hunter?”
Percy flinched beneath her tone, then snapped his mouth shut, his winter-gray eyes moving from her pale white hair to her eyes before he dropped them to the ground. “Pardon—your Grace. This is Lieutenant Declan, a knight of Lafeara. The Crown Prince assigned him to monitor the Witch Hunter’s after the last inquisition—He is a half-witch, so when his presence was detected, they forced him to join the Witch Hunter Order.”
The Duchess raised a thin white brow as if to ask if he found this story at all believable.
Percy cleared his throat, then dropped down from his saddle to kneel before her on the road. “Your Grace, you know that I have the ability to discern truth from lies. I can verify this man’s identity and words. I ask that you listen to his story—I believe you will find the information quite valuable.”
“That would require me to trust your word, Earl Hawthorne,” Carina reminded him pointedly.
“I know I have given you reason to mistrust me, but the matter of Lady Hana’s safety and future is at stake—as is the future of Lafeara.”
The Duchess clenched her jaw but turned her attention to the half-witch, who had also left his saddle to kneel beside the Earl. “Your name is Declan? No family name?”
“No, your Grace,” Declan replied, sounding faintly winded and in pain. “I am a bastard on top of being a half-witch.”
‘At least one of his parents had to be a noble for him to become a knight then.’
“And are you—a member of the Witch Hunter Order, Lieutenant Declan?”
“No, your Grace. I apologize if my appearance has offended you. The fastest way to return to Lafeara and relay the grave information I uncovered was to play along with their demands and pretend to be one of them.”
‘A convenient story—although somewhat believable.’ She offered him a slight smile and nod of recognition. “Deception has its uses.”
Declan bowed his head lower to the ground before crying out, “I swear on my life that the information I offer you is nothing but the truth, your Grace!”
The Duchess considered the half-witch for a moment, noting the lines of smeared dried blood along his neck and hairline. His olive-green eyes rose hesitantly to meet her own, and she recognized the desperation in them.
“Very well, Lieutenant Declan. You may join me in my carriage. You have until we reach the Capital to tell me your story.”
“Thank you, your Grace!”
Carina smiled at the flood of relief that filled his words and motioned to both of them to rise. “Earl Hawthorne, you may accompany us by horse until then as I’m sure you intend to return to the Capital as well.”
The carriage was enchanted to withstand all forms of magical attacks, even mind control, but only if the person using such spells remains outside.
“As you wish, your Grace,” Percy replied with a nod of acceptance. “However, should you require my assistance—Please know that you are not alone in wishing to rid Lafeara of the Pope’s presence.”
‘Your agenda is abundantly transparent, Percy,’ Carina reflected as she turned back to her carriage. ‘However, this time—we might be on the same side.’