The Stolen Crown

Chapter 11: The Obstacles

In the company of darkness and shadows, a lone figure made his way over the stones with no direction other than that of pacing back and forth. With feet that would have shaken the stones below him had the mortar not held them in place, Istvan marched with anger. His tongue lay trapped between his teeth, with a force that lay just shy of drawing blood, as an ever-growing frustration blossomed with it.

"About time," Istvan said as the door finally swung open. "Do you know how long I have been waiting? Making me look like a common fool."

"I was busy and there were many eyes," Fodor replied with a taunting smile, as he entered with a lit candle in his grip and quickly closed the door. "I did not think it would have been smart to simply depart and bring them here with me. And being seen leaving at the same time is a good way to get rumors started. We are not yet ready to be seen as allies. Though I am sure I can go back and get some others if you would like."

"Enough," Istvan ordered with a growl, taking his place at the table with a hard fall on the empty stool. "Let's try to make this quick. You said enough about watchful eyes already. What do you have?"

"Always so eager to be done with things, where is your sense of politics?" Fodor asked with a light laugh. "That is half the thrill of life."

"I don't want that thrill," Istvan replied with a dismissive wave. "The only thrill that I want, is victory. Nothing else matters until a victory is had."

"All for a means to an end, is that it?" Fodor asked with a laugh. "There has to be more than that."

"There isn't," Istvan replied. "Not until there are no other obstacles. Then, and only then, can you indulge in the prospects of having no enemies left. And if we act quickly, we can see that it does happen soon. So soon, it could happen by the time we gather with the council. So, I say again, what do you have?"

With a smile made ever wider and his stained teeth exposed to the light of the flame, Fodor moved to grab a drink and quench his mouth. "I have missed the wine you collect. Even though I spend a fortune on the stuff myself, I can never seem to get anything as good as yours."

"Tell me," Istvan ordered. "What news have you uncovered?"

"From the Queen you mean?" Fodor asked back, filling his mouth with another gulp.

A silent nod was all that was replied.

"Well, that's the funny thing," Fodor commented, scratching his chin. "I have seen her talking—"

"As have I," Istvan interrupted. "Always chatting away."

"Playing politics perhaps?" Fodor asked.

"Perhaps, you don't know?" Istvan asked with a mixed hint of skepticism and shock.

"I know enough about her, that I know that she is playing at something, but nothing to be concerned with," Fodor explained. "She has—"

"From what has been going on, do you not find that suspicious?" Istvan interrupted, raising his voice above the other.

"As I was about to say..." Fodor continued. "That is her nature. A nature that has been suppressed after her marriage. A nature that I am sure will be suppressed once again. I care little that she has met with a few people. I care little that she—"

A knock at the door, pulled both men's eyes along with their breaths, as a silence swallowed them whole for a moment.

"Did you invite someone?" Istvan asked.

"Depends who's at the door," Fodor replied. "Shall we see who it is?"

A nod was all that Istvan ordered for him to go and check.