The Empire of Ytilaer

Chapter Thirty-Three - Fleet's Distress

  "Skander, could you find Fleet for me, please?" Espen called to the middle-aged knight, who was fine-tuning his archery skills a short distance away.

  "What is wrong, Your Highness?" Royce nervously questioned, looking to Tarquin and Rosalind as well.

  Luckily, Fleet hurried over to them just then, allowing Espen to wait to respond, but still in a timely manner.

  "Sir Fleet," the king began, hesitantly, "I'm afraid Sir Royce needs to be locked up under heavy guard for a (hopefully) brief period of time."

  Espen put his hand on Royce's shoulder as he and Fleet let out a gasp.

  "Trust me, Royce, this is no reflection on your skill, or loyalty to Noitcif. Show your brother the magazine article please, Tarquin."

  "I do not understand what this has to do with Royce," Fleet expressed, somewhat impatiently, when he had finished reading.

  "Please, Fleet, do what I ask for now and I'll explain everything later. Sir Royce – you will be filled in very soon, also. Please don't take this as a punishment of any kind – just as a precaution."

  Royce nodded, confused, but compliant, as Fleet waved over three knights to assist him in locking Royce up in a maximum security cell. The three knights were then assigned by Fleet to stand guard until the shift change, when other knights would take their place.

  Back in the king's chambers, Espen and Tarquin discussed the next phase of the mission to return Royce to his normal life.

  "There have got to be medical instructions somewhere for removing this device safely," Espen mused out loud.

  Tarquin watched him from the comfort of an overstuffed chair, deep in thought as well. He finally spoke up, "Perhaps I could stop time and visit the manufacturing building. They must have useful information there."

  "Yes, but a half hour is so short. We need to investigate to find out where the building is, of course, and then where inside the building you should go."

  "Sir Fleet Hollingberry to see you, King Estevan," Sebastian, the doorman announced.

  "Send him in, please."

  Fleet swept in, and after a stiff bow, proceeded to pace.

  "With all due respect, my king," Fleet launched almost immediately into what was on his mind, "my carefully chosen second-in-command is above reproach. I have never known him to deliberately disobey, or commit a willful wrong of any kind." Fleet stopped pacing and faced his king with conviction as he finished, "He would give his life for the kingdom, a fellow knight, or a citizen of Noitcif!"

  Espen studied his chief knight, whom he knew to be somewhat fiery, but now he looked positively irate. Fortunately, he had great self-control, as well.

  "Sit down, Fleet," Espen offered, motioning to another overstuffed chair.

  "I prefer to stand, Your Highness."

  "I order you to sit, Fleet."

  Tarquin looked from one to the other in amazement, hoping his brother would pull himself together.

  After a tense minute passed, Fleet complied, causing Espen to call out to his steward, "Maurice, bring a carafe of the good wine with three glasses, please." Espen glanced at his two trusted friends and added, "I think we all need this."

  Over wine, Espen explained to his chief knight that Royce most likely had the PIVL implant described in Tarquin's magazine article, enabling Jax to know where the Stone of Potenza and Engres were kept.

  "But Royce was not allowed near the stone," Fleet contended.

  "And that relates directly to why he is being contained now," Espen answered.

  "You believe his disobeyed a direct order?"

  "Yes," Espen replied, watching Fleet stiffen, "because, Ytilaer can control him," the king finished, giving the chief knight a no-nonsense stare. 

  When the puzzle pieces fell into place, Fleet visibly deflated, sinking in his chair with his face in his hands, while emitting a tortured groan. Knowing the poor man needed time to digest this information, Espen fell quiet and became pensive in his chair, sipping his wine. Tarquin did the same. The handsome, ornate grandfather clock ticked all the louder, it seemed, and Maurice refilled everyone's glass and carried away the empty carafe; he, too, respecting the silence.

  After a full five minutes, Fleet emerged from his hands, face ruddy, hair askew.

  "So, what do we do?" he asked in almost a whisper.

  But, before Espen could answer, an intense voice was heard emanating from the direction of the king's main suite door.

  Sebastian barely beat the visitor into the room to announce, "Page Jeremy to see Sir Fleet."

  The youthful page was flushed and out of breath, but managed to force out, "A Ytilaer craft came through the sky portal and is being escorted to the knight's training field, Sir!"