It was a few hours past midday and the sun was beginning its decline towards the horizon in the east. Caedyrn’s face was scrunched up in confusion, he had just set foot from the carriage onto the palace grounds. The area was quiet, deserted in comparison to the past. The Archon Mikkos of House Mercan had been a capable and charismatic leader in the past, first as the head of the isolated Merlabrian state, and later as Archon of the Mercan League. Together he and Caedyrn had brought the other northern city-states to heel, either forcing their submission or conquering and eliminating those in power, the carrot, or the stick.
In those days the halls would be bustling with activity, courtiers and diplomats jockeying for influence within the ascendant power. Yet now there was nary a soul in sight, an effect of the Archon’s isolation from society for the past year or two, unsavory rumors abound regarding his activities, none of which could be proven one way or another. However, his isolation was true, and that action had allowed the aristocracy to act without restraint. Exacerbating the existing conflicts within the nation, a result also of the degradation of centralized power and the growing conflicts between the lords.
“Is there an issue Lord Amyntas?” Metiochus led the way as the pair entered the main hallway, on their way toward the Archon’s study. They currently were in the eastern wing of the palace, and today would not be the time to meet with Mikkos, instead the appointment was with the man who had been maintaining the lands in his absence, Mikkos’s eldest son Phylacus. Metiochus’s brother-in-law, the primary heir to the house of Mercan and Caedyrn’s former pupil.
“None, it’s just that the palace is unusually empty… Nothing at all like I remember. Is there any particular reason for that?” Metiochus’s steps appeared to falter for just an instant, but he quickly regained his stride and proceeded down the hall.
“Yes, my Lord, it is as you say. Visitors have diminished as of late; it became particularly noticeable after the Archon recused himself from matters of state.” Although the Archon’s sickness would be reason for many emissaries to spend less time visiting, the emptiness of the structure was unusual. Servants, guards, and Paige’s, there should still have been many personnel within the palace. The area lacked the presence one would expect from a nation’s center of power.
“We are here my Lord; I will remain outside. Please let me know if you need anything and I will get someone to fetch it for you.” Metiochus slowly opened the door to the study, however he even appeared surprised by what both men witnessed on the other side.
As the oaken door was swung open, it was the taste of stale air and the stench of decay that hit them both. Caedyrn peered into the room, the dim lighting barely allowing him to make out the figure sprawled out open the desk. Both Metiochus and Caedyrn assumed the worst, pushing past the sea of scrolls covering every inch of available space. Laying on the solid wooden desk was Mikkos’s eldest son, the crown prince Phylacus, a half-eaten plate of food lay shattered upon the floor, the fetid cheese responsible for the stench.
“MY LORD!” Metiochus was distraught and tried to rush toward his lord’s prone form. Instead of allowing him to pass, Caedyrn stopped him, ignoring the piercing glare in his eyes, and instead focused on examining the area around the downed prince. “Calm yourself Metiochus, the situation is not as dire as it may appear. The prince is still breathing, the flame from the candle is still warm. This is recent, the culprit may still be nearby, I presume a servant close to the crown prince. You focus on finding them, I will see to the prince’s treatment.” Metiochus was reluctant to leave, but quickly understood he would be of no assistance here and left to carry out the Scholar’s orders.
“Now, let’s see what we have here. I taught you to always be prepared for such a situation. So, where have you placed your collection of antidotes?” Caedyrn mumbled to himself as he traced Phylacus’s fingers along the edge of the desk. Pushing aside a pile of scrolls he noticed the vial that had rolled beneath, its contents barely visible in the waning light.
Wasting no time Caedyrn moved to Phylacus’s side and taking the frail man into his arms, upon uncorking the vial an overpowering scent of mint and rosemary permeated the air. “Uhhh… Why do you enjoy compounding these scents into your medicine’s boy?” Caedyrn grimaced at the scent but could not waste much time. He pressed the lid of the clay vial against the man’s lips, opening his mouth before slowly pouring the contents down his throat.
Luckily Phylacus wasn’t too far gone, and his body involuntarily swallowed the liquid, immediate effects were unnoticeable other than a slight return of color to his face. A findwale potion followed close behind and would help to alleviate some of the symptoms of the poison, however he would need time to recuperate. It was a good thing that the assassin had tried to make the attempt appear natural, to make it appear as if his natural causes were to blame, complications of Phylacus’s naturally weak body. That had resulted in a weaker and slow acting poison being used, had either Metiochus or Caedyrn arrived later than they did, Phylacus may have ended up dead.
The sounds of rushing footsteps soon caught Caedyrn’s attention, followed closely by angry shouts. Soon enough the oaken doors to the study were pushed open and two squads of palace guards entered, seemingly at odds with one another. One side were donned in the familiar blue green of House Ocealus, the whirlpool sigil resting upon their chest easily distinguishing them from the golden ball of flame that adorned their opponents.
“How dare you impede our investigations, the Scholar had nothing to do with this. He just arrived today, this was obviously caused by one of the servants, and I could construe this interference as proof of your involvement!” The opposing guard unit was taken aback by Metiochus’s threats, but they quickly regained their earlier confidence.
“You need not worry Lord Metiochus, I am but a humble palace guard. We however serve House Helotis, and you know as much as I who we serve. Seeing as how both the Archon and the Crown Prince are unable to carry out their duties, such responsibilities fall upon the next in line. Word has come that Lord Hyllos is on his way back and will arrive by tomorrow afternoon, until that time all those involved in this incident must be detained. Or is that not the proper procedure?” Metiochus hands shook, the agitation etched upon his features, yet the other man was correct. Even if he was not responsible, he would have to be detained, now it was up to how quickly Phylacus could regain consciousness.
“Metiochus. Let it go… focus on caring for Phylacus, make sure you guard him well with only your most loyal men.” Caedyrn gently laid the unresponsive Phylacus onto the ground and made his way toward the two groups. Removing two clay pots from his pouch, stealthily delivering both into Metiochus’s hand. “Place two drops into his water every four hours, continue this process until he wakes. A proper antidote has already been administered, luckily your assassin wanted this to appear natural, and your lord was prepared for such an occurrence… Search for one of the paige’s, or his cook, and when you have a chance get word of my situation to my people. Make sure they do not act rash and have some of your men help guard the domus… Can you do that for me?” Metiochus handed off his spear to a nearby Ocealus guard, using his free hand he grabbed Caedyrn’s forearm in a show of respect and affirmation.
Having said his piece and ensuring the safety of Phylacus, Caedyrn walked towards the captain of the Helotis guards. “Well… Lead the way, I assume you have adequate accommodations in mind.” The man seemed to understand his position, he did not show any disrespect towards the former Grand Scholar. Instead providing an affirming shake of the head and leading his men from the room with their charge in tow.
