The Prince of Ilios

Eighty-Six

Alyn had to make a move and soon. Ellora had become more sickly looking by the day. Between the toll of the curse and the toll of Cyrus, he new it was time to take action. He glanced at Vincent, "You have learned everything very well. I hope it proves to be useful." Alyn hoped to part ways, he did not want to get the boy involved in his own strife.

Vincent's brow furrowed, "Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye? Do you think you are going somewhere?"

Alyn leaned against the back of the stable, "Vincent. I have something very dangerous to do, but it cannot wait any longer. I cannot take you with me."

Vincent stood to his full gangly height, which although was still shorter than his mentor, was as large as he could make himself look. A determined glint lit his eye, "I'm going wherever you go, and you can't stop me." He lowered his voice, "You're going to break everyone out, aren't you?" His boyish excitement was barely hidden.

Alyn looked at him grimly, "This is not something that you can do, even with all of the training, you aren't prepared."

"I am as prepared as I need to be to help." Vincent stared him down, "What can I do?"

Alyn let out an exasperated sigh. The kid just would not leave. No matter how many warnings came his way, Vincent was determined, and had grown enough of a spine to remain stubborn in this. Alyn wiped his palm down his face in defeat, "Fine,"

Vincent jumped up with his fist in the air, "Yes!"

"But!" Alyn pointed at him solemnly, "You follow every single order."

"Yes, sir!" Vincent saluted playfully.

"The first order: Stay alive. Even if you have to run, stay alive."

Vincent nodded seriously, leaving his boyish traits behind, "Same to you. Now, what's the plan?"

"We need to release the girls from their chains so that they can use their elements at the right time."

"What time would that be?"

"The day of the wedding."

"Cutting it a little close aren't you?" Vincent raised a sardonic brow.

"It's the only time that will work. Their deaths are slated as the King's wedding gift to Ellora. They will all die after the ceremony."

"Wait, what? How did you find that out?" He asked nosily.

Alyn rolled his eyes, "I was in the study when Cyrus told the Captain of the Guard. Anyway, one of us needs to get in there today with a key to take off those cuffs. I can drop it by the window, but we have to get one, and there are only two in existence. One is carried on Cyrus, and the other, more obtainable one, is on the Captain."

"Sweet serendipity." Vincent chuckled.

"What?" It was Alyn's turn to be confused.

"I just so happened to be a pick-pocket when I was a boy."

"When? You still are." Alyn ruffled his hair.

Vincent pushed his arm away, he puffed out his chest, "If you don't want me to nab those keys then fine."

Alyn looked at him sideways, "How good were you?" He did not want to take any risks.

"Stole the Marchioness' jewels right off her fingers one time." Vincent grinned.

Alyn sighed again, knowing he was giving in to another bad idea, "Fine. But you only have one chance. If it doesn't work, there will not be a second attempt."

Vincent nodded once, "When?"

"Tonight is as good as any." He shrugged.

Vincent nodded, they separated until evening.

Alyn snuck back into the kitchens. He glanced at the staff. Most of the staff had chosen to give their loyalty to Cyrus to stay alive. Although Alyn had done something similar, the staff looked at him with renewed fear. He watched as a maid cowered away from him. He nodded to her shortly, but did not say anything. It was better for them to keep their distance. He had accepted it a long time ago. As he grabbed an apple from the barrel, a small red-headed blur crashed into his body, stumbling backwards and landing in front of him. The familiar boy looked up at him terrified. You could hear the collective gasp of the kitchen staff and the following silence. It was the same boy. He'd been a stable boy before, but the kid had been steaming about Cyrus. It had been the same day that River had said to poison Cyrus. At the time he had laughed, now he wished he had taken her up on it. Alyn bent down, lifted the boy by his suspenders and set him upright. The boy ran to the cook, hugging her skirts. Alyn took a deep breath, he hated that people were so scared of him, scared of Cyrus really. He motioned to the manservant, preparing the drinks. The two huddled in the corner for a bit. Alyn grimaced and left.

The manservant came back toward the cook, thoroughly shaken.

"What was that all about, Henrick?" The cook asked, patting the boy's red hair.

Henrick looked back and forth, then leaned into the cook, "Alyn isn't happy. Cyrus wants to test the Captain tonight. He sent the guard with a packet to go into the Captain's drink. Wants to see if the man can detect the poison, poor chap."

"Poor my arse." The cook pointed her spoon at him, "Good riddance if he doesn't find it!" She chuckled lightly.