Chapter 18
Let Me Pick Your Brain
Neue Lewenfort, Bergeny
Prince Rickardt and his entourage entered the throne room of the New Castle Lewenfort. The new castle had been completed some forty years ago and was constructed when Prince Rudolf of Veson had been elected King of Bergeny. Though King Rudolf IV was from Veson, his queen was a princess of Lewenfort who did not take to the court of Veson well and so her husband agreed to move to his wife's homeland to please her. Because of the castle's relative newness, the town that had grown up around the castle was still small compared to Alt Lewenfort, but there were those who said the main reason Neue Lewenfort was built was that King Rudolf could get away from the people of Alt Lewenfort, as he apparently enjoyed life in the hall of his father-in-law about as well as his wife enjoyed her time in Veson.
Prince Rickardt had been summoned by the Witch Queen's governor-general viceroy in Bergeny, Lord Shahazz'in. When Milon first submitted to the Witch Queen, the Prince accompanied his father to Neue Lewenfort to swear fealty. Lord Shahazz'in kept himself out of view when the pledges were made and remained a mystery to this very day.
The throne room was all but empty. There were no guards, no courtiers, no servants. There was only Prince Reinolf, one of the surviving sons of the former King, seated upon the Lord Steward's throne and the witch Alaira seated upon the Queen's throne. The King's throne remain empty. Lord Shahazz'in would be expected to be seated there, but it would seem that he was not in attendance.
Prince Rickardt took the lead by being the first to kneel before the throne and was followed by the rest of his entourage. He drew in a slow breath to steel himself before speaking.
"In the stead of my lord father and on behalf of my noble companions, I would like to offer up my thanks to the Lord Shahazz'in for the hospitality of his hall."
"Well met, Rickardt, son of Philipp," an eerie voice replied, sounding almost like a whisper yet loud enough to be heard clearly throughout the chamber.
The curtains behind the thrones parted and servants emerged bearing what appeared to be a bathtub made of brass. They set the tub down between the thrones of the King and Queen and then withdrew. Alaira only paid the tub a brief glance before looking back to Prince Rickardt and his entourage, pointing down with her finger to signal that they had not yet been granted permission to raise their heads.
The Prince could hear the water slosh about in the tub as something emerged from it and then the voice spoke again.
"I must seem an ingracious host. I appear so rarely for my guests, but for you, Rickardt, son of Philipp, I must make an exception. Come, raise your heads."
Prince Rickardt lifted up his eyes and were it not for the gasps of Sigislinde and a couple others, his own reaction might have been greater. He had seen a number of strange creatures in the thrall of the Witch Queen, but none such as this. If he had not tried some of the delicacies of Criemus before, he would not have even known what to compare the thing before him to. Once he had sampled an peculiar sea creature known as an 'inkfish' to some, a 'sea spider' to others. It had no shell or scales but rather a soft, supple body and many legs like snakes. What he saw now was much like that sea creature crossed with a man, though only the torso and arms looked anything like a human. His head was long and his eyes large, with his mouth seeming like the same tangle of snakes below his waist. This was Lord Shahazz'in.
"My kind is not made to tread upon the land, you see," Lord Shahazz'in said. "It causes me pain to be out of the water for long, but at times it is necessary."
The thick coils of Lord Shahazz'in's legs writhed about as he slowly began to slither down the stairs of the dais upon which the thrones were set. The sight of it made Prince Rickardt's skin crawl, but he dared not let his revulsion show.
"It pleases me that you were so swift to answer my summons," Lord Shahazz'in continued, "but not perhaps as swift as you could have. Delays on the road?"
"Such delays do happen, my lord," Prince Rickardt replied.
"That they do," Lord Shahazz'in said. He glanced around at the Prince's entourage and asked, "Is this all of your companions?"
"All of rank fit to appear before you, my lord."
"I have heard that you welcomed other companions at the Palace of the Lake. Where are they?"
"We failed to reach an agreement on terms, my lord," Prince Rickardt replied, "but we parted amicably. I directed him to a more suitable trading partner in Bascon and we even travelled together partway."
"So they have gone to Bascon. What more can you tell me about them?"
"He was a simple merchant yet one of good breeding, seeking out my patronage as an intermediary in his search for markets in the eastern kingdoms."
"And you did not see fit to grant him your patronage."
"No, my lord."
"Yet he found favor enough in your sight for you to direct him to another patron."
"Yes, my lord."
Lord Shahazz'in was now quite close and reached out to place a clammy hand on Prince Rickardt's head.
"What are you not telling me?" Lord Shahazz'in asked. "What are you concealing?"
Prince Rickardt could feel his stomach sink as he said, "I am concealing nothing, my lord."
"We shall see."
It felt as if Lord Shahazz'in was crushing Prince Rickardt's skull in his hand. The Prince wanted to cry out from the pain yet could not. The pain rose and rose and when it seemed like it would reach its peak, it was cut short. His head pounded with the beat of his heart as the pain slowly subsided.
"It would seem that there is no lie in your words, Rickardt, son of Philipp, but what if I look deeper?"
"My lord...?"
Lord Shahazz'in did not elaborate any further, Instead he simply acted. He seized Prince Rickardt's head with the tangle of serpents hanging from his face. A piercing sensation shot through the Prince and unlike the previous effort, this time he could scream and scream he did.
* * *
Lord Shahazz'in released Prince Rickardt from his grip. His beak withdrew into his mouth still dripping with the Prince's blood. As for the Prince himself, his body fell over with a gaping hole left in his forehead. Unfortunately, the deeper gaze could only be used once.
The Prince's companions, especially the woman, raised up a great cry. It was most unpleasant.
"SILENCE!" Lord Shahazz'in boomed. "Your wailing will not bring him back."
Perhaps his voice alone would have had force enough to quiet them, but weaving in his power made it certain. However, while Prince Rickardt's companions may have been silenced, Prince Reinolf did not sit still.
"My lord!" the Prince cried. "That was the son and heir of the Prince of Milon, a loyal vassal of Her Majesty the Queen!"
"The father may be loyal," Lord Shahazz'in replied, "but the son... less so."
"You have evidence of treason?"
Lord Shahazz'in beckoned to the witch sitting upon the Queen's throne and said, "Alaira, come here."
The witch stood up and descended from the dais. There was a smoothness to her movements that reminded Lord Shahazz'in of his own kind. It pleased him, but now was not the time to be distracted by pleasures.
He motioned to Prince Rickardt's body and told her, "He has been tampered with, has he not?"
Alaira sneered at the task yet nevertheless stooped down and reached into the wound in the Prince's forehead. She closed her eyes for a moment and knitted her brows as she took a few slow, measured breaths.
"He has been ensorcelled to forget," she said.
"Forget what?"
"How am I to know? He has forgotten it."
Lord Shahazz'in looked to one of Prince Rickardt's companions and said, "What might you know?"
He did not waste any time with the light touch and went directly for the deeper gaze. The faces of the so-called merchant and his entourage were obscured in the mind of Prince Rickardt, but though this man had been excluded from the Prince's dealings, a clear image of these people remained. Their faces meant nothing to Lord Shahazz'in, but perhaps there was one among the Queen's servants who might know.
There was a fresh cry among those who remained when Lord Shahazz'in released the body. Fortunately for their sake, they did not continue to make as much noise as before.
Prince Reinolf had stepped down to join Lord Shahazz'in and Alaira. He looked stunned at what he saw, but this was far from the first time he had witnessed Lord Shahazz'in subject a man to the deeper gaze. Perhaps it was the rank of Prince Rickardt, but if he was a traitor to the Queen, no rank would have saved him.
"My... my lord... What have you done? These are not men of no consequence. For you to kill them so... If the Prince of Milon were to learn of this..."
"Would he too turn to treason?" Lord Shahazz'in asked.
Lord Shahazz'in found it taxing to try to understand human values. However, it was necessary for the task of governing the humans given to him by the Queen. He considered the cause of Prince Reinolf's distress. Among the humans, there was some attachment between sire and spawn. It was nothing like his own kind, who had to fend for themselves as soon as they hatched and were as likely to be eaten by sire and dam as any other creature of the sea. It was true that Prince Philipp at least showed every outward sign of fealty to the Queen, but the loss of his spawn could turn him and his vassals against the Queen. This would displease the Queen and she would seek and account for it. Lord Shahazz'in was not given to fear, but he had ample reason to dread becoming the object of the Queen's wrath.
He looked to Alaira and asked, "Can you mend him?"
Alaira gave him an annoyed look.
"It is beyond my arts. Our Lady could, perhaps, but the body would rot before we could deliver it to Gottestag."
"Can you not stall the rot?"
"Perhaps, but the what end?"
"To ease young Reinolf's distress."
Lord Shahazz'in was not capable of smiling, but he imagined himself doing so. Alaira did not see the humor in it. Setting humor aside, some solution was needed, so he considered another possibility.
He motioned to Prince Rickardt's companions and asked, "Can you not make one of these take his shape?"
"I can," Alaira said, "but again, to what end? You may deceive the eyes, but the deceit will soon be exposed."
"Leave that to me."
"Very well," the witch replied. "Do you have a preference?"
Lord Shahazz'in looked at Prince Rickardt's companions and pointed to one, saying, "He seems most... pliable."
Alaira told Prince Reinolf, "Call in the guards. I need someone to hold him."
Prince Reinolf took the handbell from his belt and rang it to summon the guards, who promptly filed into the room and took up their usual positions.
Alaira pointed to a couple of the guards and then to the man Lord Shahazz'in singled out and said, "You two, hold this man down. The rest of you, skewer any of the others if they interfere."
It would appear that Prince Rickardt's companions were not chosen for their bravery and so they simply cowered at the sight of a few spearpoints levelled at them. This allowed Alaira to proceed with her arts unimpeded. Or nearly unimpeded.
"What are you doing!?" the chosen companion cried. "No! No!"
Alaira had even less patience for this than Lord Shahazz'in and commanded one of the guards, "Gag him."
The guard unbuckled the man's own belt and used it as a makeshift gag. The man continued make noise, but it was at least muffled somewhat. Still, that was not enough for the witch.
"Shut him up," she demanded.
The guard holding the man by the shoulders gave him a punch to the gut that served to quiet him down. With distraction reduced to a minimum, Alaira went to work. She dipped her finger in the hole in Prince Rickardt's head and with his blood, she drew an encircled pentacle on the captive man's forehead. She took her knife to cut open his garments, then returned to the Prince for some more blood, this time to draw another pentacle on the man's chest. Next she took Prince Rickardt's signet and covered it in blood before placing it on the man's finger. She placed her lips on Prince Rickardt's and drew in a deep breath. With a flick of her wrist, she had the guard gagging the man remove the belt and before the man could start screaming again, she pinched his nose and pressed her mouth to his. He writhed and squirmed against the guards holding him as his body reshaped itself. When she released him, he had fully taken on the shape of Prince Rickardt. A couple of the Prince's remaining companions gasped at the sight.
"He looks the part now," Alaira told Lord Shahazz'in, "so long as he keeps on the ring, but how do you expect him to play the part. No one who knows that man will be fooled."
"You have changed the outward shape and I shall change the inward shape," Lord Shahazz'in replied. He motioned to the guards. "Bring him closer."
The guards dragged the man over to where Prince Rickardt's body lay and Lord Shahazz'in stooped down to place one hand on the head of Prince Rickardt and the other on the head of his impostor. He could not close his eyes like a human could, but his kind did have a sort of caul that could cover the eyes at times such as this, blocking out the world around him so that he might better focus on the world within. Except in beings who have a strong sense of their self beyond self, the astral body dissipates quickly once the fleshy body fails. Already the shape was starting to fade. He could waste no time. His work was akin to making a cast out of one mind and to reshape the other to conform to that cast, or to scraping a parchment clean and transcribing a different text on it. It was not a technique he used often, not only because there was rarely an occasion for it but also because the burden on him was great and there was a danger if he should make a mistake.
Time did not flow the same in the world within, so once Lord Shahazz'in's work was done, it may have only been a few moments for everyone else. The man who now had taken both the outward and inward shape of Prince Rickardt looked up to Lord Shahazz'in in confusion.
"My... my lord? What...?"
The eyes of this man who now thought he was Prince Rickardt strayed to the body of the original. No ordinary mind would bear such a sight easily and it was enough to break one so tenuously forced into an unnatural shape.
"What...? What...?"
Before the contradiction of what he saw and what he believed to be true drove him to madness, Lord Shahazz'in placed his hand on the man's head once more and told him, "You see nothing."
He then went to work crafting a different course of events from the time Prince Rickardt first entered the throne room. He would have to do the same for the rest of the Prince's companions as well. One by one, he laid hands upon them and rewrote their memories. The man Lord Shahazz'in subjected to the deeper gaze and the one now taking the place of Prince Rickardt fell ill along the way and were entrusted in the care of a knightly house as the rest of them continued on. They were welcomed in Lord Shahazz'in's court and found such favor that he deigned to allow them into his own entourage as he travelled to Gottestag to pay homage to the Queen. And should they encounter that supposed merchant and his fellows along the way, Lord Shahazz'in would very much enjoy making their acquaintance.