The Kingdom of Noitcif

Chapter Twenty-Eight - La Riviere's Amulet

  "There is something you are not telling us, Tarquin," Fleet stated sternly after a few confused moments had passed.

  The royal messenger took a deep breath before nodding. "Yes, I suppose there is."

  "Well, spit it out, for heaven's sake! If you have something that will be of use to us and will assist you in this spying endeavor, then let us hear it!"

  Tarquin gave another slow nod before leaning forward in his chair, making eye contact with no one in particular. "There is an amulet... it used to reside on the island of Ifics before the people of that land rebelled and joined Engres in Ytilaer. It is currently upon the island of Ecnamor, in the hands of a mysterious older man whom I had the pleasure to meet a year or so ago."

  "It is out of your reach, Tarquin. A messenger such as you – with hardly any relations to this man – cannot ask for an item of power without having it offered to you."

  "As a matter of fact, he has already told me I could use it whenever I would like."

  This caused many of the knights in the room - and Espen - to sit bolt upright in their chair.

  "Please explain, Tarquin," Espen pressed, while Fleet leaned forward with interest.

  The messenger gave a lopsided smile before beginning his tale.

  "A while ago – about a year back, as I said – I delivered a letter to a man in Ecnamor, who turned out to be an introverted clock maker living on the outskirts of the island. I seemed to have appeared at the exact right moment, for when I opened the door, I found him fighting a band of ruffians who had apparently been harassing him for weeks."

  "And why was that?" Royce inquired.

  Tarquin shrugged. "No idea. Fortunately, I was able to lend a hand by stopping time and binding their hands and feet. When time came back into play, the man and I took them to the island jail and let the jailer figure out what to do with them. The recipient of the letter turned out to be quite the character. He was a tall, striking figure who looked nothing like the old gentleman I had envisioned him to be when the townsfolk described his whereabouts. I finally gave him the letter and prepared to leave, but he insisted I stay at his shop and enjoy some refreshments in return for assisting him."

  "Hold on a moment," Fleet said, rising to his feet.

  The messenger looked a bit miffed at his brother's interruption, but turned his attention towards him, nevertheless.

  "Did you say this man was a clock maker? Was he around the age of fifty-five?"

  "Indeed, he was."

  "Long white hair?"

  Tarquin nodded. "His name was Mr. La Riviere, if that helps any."

  Fleet gave a knowing smile. "I have met him once before, as well. Peculiar fellow – nothing like the folk you typically see dwelling on Ecnamor, but he seems loyal to the kingdom and kind."

  "Oh, he is," Tarquin agreed. "After a snack and a cold drink, he invited me to look at some of his clocks and other items in his shop – some of which were things I had never seen before. One of them was the amulet. It was a beautiful, shining thing shaped like a teardrop, with a tiny cork embedded into the top.

  'And what is this?' I remember asking him.

  The clockmaker smiled. 'The people of this island claim that it is the teardrop of a fairy, but I know better.'