The Empire of Ytilaer

Chapter Twenty-Seven - Royce

  In the dark, early morning hours, Engres' bespectacled face was once again peering down at Espen, the moonlight reflecting off his glasses, as the king was rousted awake in his bedchamber.

  "Aaaahh..!" came the muffled cry, followed by, "Now what?"

  "Sh-h-h... be quiet. I had a brainstorm."

  "And it couldn't wait until morning, of course..."

  "I realized what was eating at me yesterday when Royce relayed his Expo trip – well, besides learning even more about that turn-coat spawn of mine..." Engres' low voice turned into a grumble. "Anyway, I couldn't put my finger on it yesterday, but – in my sleep – I realized why Royce was sent back and not held for ransom, or chewed up by M.C.C.O.Y.."

  "What came to you?" Espen's sleepy, almost disinterested voice replied in the dark.

  "He's a plant."

  Silence.

  "I have no idea what that means."

  "You know, a plant... a spy... a..."

  "No, no, no, no, Engres," Espen's impatient voice interrupted. "Royce is loyal to the core – you have it all wrong."

  "Not if he was brainwashed, or chipped."

  Silence.

  "Didn't Royce say that Griffith (another double-crossing son of mine) shot him with a dart that put him out?"

  "Well, yes, but it was for a very short time, it seemed..."

  "These things don't take long, Nephew."

  Silence.

  "Oh, no... what do you suggest we do?"

  "First thing in the morning, have Fleet, or a doctor look him over for an implant of some kind. If nothing shows up, checking him for brainwashing is tougher, but it can be done..."

  "OK... aw, heck – I'm never getting back to sleep. Want some tea?"

  As the sun rose, Royce was in the training room, beating the living daylights out of a stuffed dummy to work off some extra stress. The Base World excursion had set him on edge, and he couldn't shake the sense of uneasiness he felt since. Therefore, it gave him a feeling of immense satisfaction when his sword broke the coils of rope attached to and holding up the dummy's head, causing it to sail across the room, scattering pieces of hay as it flew.

  "Good heavens, Royce! Having fun murdering our stuff?" Skander called from the other end of the room, polishing his sword with a white cloth.

  "Sorry," the second-in-command apologized. "I could try to fix him."

  "If not, we can use the hay for the griffins and the fabric for dishcloths," Skander chuckled.

  After a short struggle with another coil of rope, Royce put the dummy's head back on, although it was slightly cocked to one side. He then turned to Skander, who had put his sword back in its sheath and was checking the welds on the shields that were hanging on the far wall.

  "Well, see you later," Fleet's right hand knight called.

  "Leaving already?"

  "Yes, for now." Royce told him. He had a pressing issue upon his mind which seemed incapable of going away. "I will be back later."

  At that, he quickly made his way to a side door, which he flung open and ran out into the dim morning.

  For the past hour, the second-in-command had been feverishly thinking about the Stone of Potenza. He didn't know why, for it hadn't been spoken of in quite a long while, and it was off limits to anyone except for Fleet and the king himself, but Royce knew that he had to check on it to make sure it hadn't been stolen or re-activated.

  Quickly, although keeping an eye out in case one of his fellow knights witnessed him, Royce ducked into one of the center towers of the castle and down a flight of stairs, which led to the storage chambers. However, when he reached the safe where the stone was kept, he found it locked, as it should be. The second-in-command let out a deep exhale, for he was glad the stone was still locked away, but then his eyes widened. What if someone had removed it from its bounds, and then re-fastened the safe so as not to arouse suspicion? Royce fingered the lock on the heavy, gold-plated safe, wondering what the code was to open it. He only wanted a peek... just to glance in there and see it would be good enough...

  However, after fifteen minutes of trying different combinations on the lock, his mind reset to to the way it perceived the world an hour ago. Why was he down here, anyway? He wasn't allowed in here, especially right beside the safe containing one of the most powerful specimens in Noitcif! Blinking furiously, the second-in-command raced out of the storage chambers, shutting the door behind him and almost ran smack into Rosalind, who was running down the cobblestone street towards the griffin stables.

  "Royce, Royce!" she cried.

  The second-in-command felt his cheeks turn red, for he didn't know if she had seen him trespassing in restricted territory. "Yes? What is it?"

  "Royce, put your armor on! They're coming!"

  "Who is coming?"

  "Ytilaer, of course! They're coming through the sky portal, and some warriors are coming through the one on the ground, as well!"