Kaspar was amused.
He brushed the breakfast crumbs from his beard and said;

‘I need you to repeat that.’

Fort Dunswald’s Dovemaster looked down at the note, reading it again;

‘Sir Ailbern humbly requests the assistance of His Highness, Earl Kaspar, in hunting down the vicious elf that broke into his manor and kidnapped his servants. Sir Ailbern believes the elf may pose a threat to the good people of Dunswald if he is not satisfied with the people he has already taken. He is smaller than an average man, and was able to produce a white horse from thin air…’

Kaspar held up his hand, saying;

‘That’s Prince Bernard, isn’t it?’

The Dovemaster hesitated.

‘I couldn’t rightly say, sir. Maybe. The height and white horse match, but… why would Prince Bernard take someone’s servants? It’s not like he has a castle he needs staff for.’

‘That’s an excellent question. Get someone to fetch Coen for me. I’ll have him investigate.’

Bernard was a popular topic of conversation that morning.
Lothar glowered over his desk at Pepin. If he didn’t know how badly Bernard’s recent notoriety was hurting Pepin’s standing among the disloyal nobility that wanted Lothar out, he would have been certain that Pepin was helping the whelp. He stood by, uselessly, when he could have stopped Bernard from leaving the castle. Bernard even rode away on Pepin’s best horse. Pepin maintained that he didn’t stop the boy because he didn’t understand why he was running, and he claimed he was upset about the horse’s theft. Lothar wasn’t convinced. He held onto his suspicions, but he let them simmer while he waited for new evidence. He’d grown bored waiting. He wanted Pepin to act out so he had an excuse to be rid of him. It was time to force the issue. He said;

‘Have you heard the latest on our dear brother?’

Pepin was tired. He had better things to do than placate Lothar’s paranoia. He could be trimming his toenails, or re-reading the terrible book of poetry his mother sent him for his last birthday. He wanted to be anywhere but that office. He’d happily take entertaining foreign dignitaries for a week over this single meeting. He said;

‘I don’t know. The last I heard, he was riding north. I think the Marshal speculated that he might be on his way to see the wizard Schlache, after finding that witch unhelpful. I think it’s more likely that he’s defecting to Abelinnia. King Freidhold would probably take him in.’

Lothar laughed coldly.

‘Your spies are sleeping on the job, brother. You shall have to discipline them.’

‘I don’t have any spies. If I did, I wouldn’t have them watching what Bernard is doing. I genuinely do not care what he’s getting himself into. He’s not my problem.’

‘It’s not your problem that he’s busy undermining your King?’

Pepin sighed. The bait wasn’t worth taking.

‘He’s not your problem either. He’s not a threat to you. He didn’t challenge you, he just annoyed you. You overreacted when you ordered his execution.’

‘So you don’t think the rumours that he’s the rightful King, the one with the fairy’s backing, will cause me any harm?’

‘No. A few peasants calling him fae-blessed isn’t enough to keep a rumour like that going for long. It only has traction because you’re acting like you’re scared of him. If you withdraw the men you have out hunting for him, it’ll show everyone you think he’s not worth any further effort. People will lose interest in him immediately.’

Lothar scrutinised Pepin’s body language. He had to admit, the man was a good actor. He looked authentically defeated and apathetic. Unfortunately, a show, convincing or not, would never be enough to change Lothar’s mind. He said;

‘The rumours really should concern you. What do you think will happen to Judith if I’m deposed?’

Finally, Pepin revealed a flash of real anger.

‘You said you’d leave her alone if I didn’t contest the throne! I didn’t! I’m doing everything you commanded; I renounced my claim, I’m being meek, staying quiet, keeping away from social gatherings. I’ve refused every invitation and ignored every visitor since the coronation. I don’t even answer letters. The only way I could be less of a presence in court is if I’d never been born. You can’t possibly want any more of me.’

‘I think you could be doing a lot more for me.’

‘There’s nothing else I can do to make myself less of a threat! If there were, you know I’d do it. Queen Judith has nothing to do with what’s happening to you now. Please, stop threatening her.’

‘You misspeak. She’s not a Queen any more.’

‘Lady Judith, then. What do you want from me?’

‘I want you to go find our dear little brother, Bernard. Bring me his head.’

‘What? Why? He’s running away. Abelinnia might grant him sanctuary, but they don’t have the resources to send him back as a credible challenger. They’re weak. If you really want him back, wait until he’s there. They’ll slap him in chains and present him to you as a peace offering the second you hint you might be considering going to war.’

‘He hasn’t gone to Abelinnia.’

‘Then where?’

Lothar was growing irritated with Pepin’s play at ignorance. No matter how much he denied his claim, he was still second in line to the throne. He had to have spies watching the messages that passed through the castle’s dovecote. Even the idea he might not have any was laughable.

Lothar took the message from Kaspar out of his desk drawer. The paper was so thin it was see-through, and the writing so small and dense it was hard to read with the naked eye. The message was long and detailed. It would have been too much for one bird to carry if it hadn’t been condensed this way. He handed it to Pepin.

‘This arrived shortly after dawn.’

Pepin squinted at the tiny script. The message started with outdated but newly collected sightings of Bernard; two riding east, one riding much further north, close to the Abelinnian border. In these, he remained dressed as a stable hand, riding Agatha bareback. The next sighting was extracted in a confession from a captured smuggler. He claimed he saw Bernard riding southwest through the forest, armed to the teeth, wearing plate armour and a crown on his head. The Earl said he didn’t think it was credible until he heard a similar report from a farmer who claimed to have personally spoken to the boy. Bernard told the farmer he was riding to the capital to meet with his brother. His horse’s tack was of fine quality. He wore armour, a gold crown and expensive jewels. He bought provisions for travel with silver coins. He was riding west.

Pepin lowered the letter, confused. If Bernard had found a foreign benefactor, they wouldn’t have let him ride home alone. He’d be kept safe until he could be sent at the head of an army. If Bernard had no such benefactor, instead finding the armour and weapons in a hidden cache of treasure, it would have made more sense for him to sell them and use the money to finance his escape. Pepin said;

‘This doesn’t make any sense. Why would he come back?’

‘I don’t know why you’re so confused. He has the gall to wear a crown. It’s obvious what he intends. If you really must, you can ask him all about his rationale when you find him. I don’t care to know the answer. Bring me his head, and I’ll continue to keep Judith safe.’

Pepin felt sick. In a choice between his mother and his younger brother, his mother would always win. That didn’t mean he was happy being forced to kill Bernard. They hadn’t been close, but they were brothers. Barely loud enough for Lothar to hear, he said;

‘The second I catch the slightest whisper of Lady Judith’s death, you’ll regret making me do this. I’ll make sure of it.’

‘Do as you’re told and it won’t come to that.’

Lothar watched Pepin stalk out of the room, followed by his attendants. As angry as the open threat of revolt made him, Lothar knew Pepin wouldn’t be able to act. He had some limited backing, but he lacked real power. Once Pepin eliminated Bernard he’d lose even more credibility. Not because he’d committed fratricide - that was expected among royals. Rather, because he’d done it under duress, with no benefit to himself. If Lothar could force him to do something like that, then anyone else who got their hands on his leash could do the same. Such weakness made him worthless, even as a puppet King. Once Pepin had been discarded as a viable alternative ruler, it wouldn’t take much effort for Lothar to dispose of him. Anyone else who fancied themselves fit to sit on the throne would think again. They would have a better understanding of how far Lothar was willing to go to punish insubordination.

Pepin commanded an attendant to summon the Marshal.
He knew killing Bernard wouldn’t be the end. As long as Lothar had Judith hidden away, he’d be under Lothar’s control. He’d already been punished for looking for her once. He didn’t dare risk looking for her again.

He already felt a little guilty. Bernard was a bookish runt. He could barely swing a sword and showed only limited aptitude for archery. The idea of him riding around in plate armour was laughable. Even the books he liked to read were worthless. Fairy tales and legends. He wasn’t interested in history books unless there was a dragon or a wizard’s curse. Nothing about him suggested he might make a passable King. Killing him would feel like putting down a helpless fawn who’d lost its mother to wolves.

Pepin entered his study and browsed the shelves, looking for his map of the kingdom. He ignored his attendants as they arranged themselves around the room, awaiting instructions. He could have asked one to find it for him, but he couldn’t shake the irrational notion that asking them to assist here would be the same as commanding them to kill Bernard. Once he located the map, he laid it on the desk. He put a marker at Bernard’s last known location, near Dunswald. There were too many alternative roads for him to divert down between Dunswald and the capital. Pepin imagined a pursuer would need the gift of prophecy to know which path the brat would take.

The Marshal announced himself at the door of Pepin’s study.

‘Enter. Skip the formal greeting. Get over here.’

The Marshal looked down at the map with the single marker. He knew what it represented.

‘May I add to the map, sir?’

‘Go ahead.’

The Marshal added markers for the approximate locations of the patrols hunting Bernard, as well as markers for ambushes set up near towns he’d likely stop at. They formed a slightly scattered but broad line between Bernard and the capital.

‘These are the locations of all the men already on the task. Most of them belong to whichever local Lord the land belongs to. Only these ones,’ he indicated four markers, ‘are men I trained myself.’

Pepin examined the mess.

‘How confident are you that he’ll be caught before he reaches the capital?’

‘Almost certain. He evaded us before because we didn’t know his destination.’

‘Then it doesn’t seem like there is much point in me going out myself.’

Pepin considered the very real possibility that he was being set up to fail. He’d received a letter from Judith three days ago, but it was dated two weeks prior. People died without warning all the time, and Judith’s health had never been good. If that happened, Lothar would want him dealt with before he had a chance to become a problem. He could easily be assassinated while searching for Bernard. It would be easy to pin it on bandits - or Bernard, if it came to that. He needed a better plan. The Marshal said;

‘There is a slim possibility that Bernard met with the wizard. He lives in that area. His new equipment could be enchanted with any number of special abilities.’

‘Doesn’t he live further east than that?’

The Marshal placed another marker on the map.

‘He lives here. At Agatha’s best, it’s about… two days ride from Bernard’s northernmost sighting, so the distances and times between sightings don’t match perfectly. However, if the wizard had reason to expect Bernard was coming, he could have gone to meet him.’

‘Did anyone ever question the witch he met with about what he was after?’

‘We sent soldiers to question her, but she was gone. Her house was completely empty. There weren’t even any ashes in the fireplace. We found the blacksmith easily enough, but he seemed more angry at his daughter for leaving than at Bernard or the witch for having taken her. He couldn’t tell us where they went.’

‘I would have assumed he went to the witch to ask about his fairy. Has anyone tried to track her down?’

‘There’s a map at the Manor she used to inhabit, but it’s unmarked. Your father had some kind of letter with a riddle he was able to use to find her. Since we don’t have the letter, the map is no use to us.’

‘There aren’t any rumours of fairies in the area he rode to?’

‘None. This river has a persistent bucca that kidnaps drunkards and lone children. There’s likely a lauma living on this mountain, but nobody has seen it. It’s put some kind of maze enchantment on the woods around the mountain that makes it hard to track. A pesht was sighted here a few months ago. It left a vagrant with some nasty scars, but hasn’t made an appearance since. This mountain has the remains of a wizard’s tower, but she died about 80 years ago. The site’s been picked clean. There are caves here that supposedly house kobolds, but they don’t venture out far. They’re only a threat to travellers stupid enough to try to camp in their caves. No sign of fairies. Only Schlache or an Abelinnian noble could have given him the equipment he’s got now.’

Pepin stood over the map, thinking. Eventually, he traced a line with his finger between the capital and the band of markers representing the people out hunting for his brother. He said;

‘As a backup… I want royal proclamations put up along here - especially in the places you don’t have patrols and ambushes set up. Have them say something like; By order of Archduke Pepin; Bernard is summoned to Castle Star to explain himself. Keep it brief. It just needs to sound like he’ll be given a fair chance if he speaks with me.’

‘Castle Star? I’ve never heard of it.’

‘That’s not its real name. He’ll feel safer meeting me somewhere he knows only he and I can identify.’

‘Then where shall I send the soldiers to meet him?’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll do it myself. If he actually evades all your men and comes to me, I don’t want him to get spooked if he sees yet more men-at-arms loitering around.’

‘That’s a good point, sir.’

‘Tell me when you’ve sent the proclamations out. Dismissed.’

The Marshal bowed deeply and left.

Pepin waved to another attendant.

‘I want luggage prepared. I’ll be camping at a ruined castle. Unless it’s collapsed further since I last rode by, it still has rooms suitable to shelter in. Assuming Bernard remains at his current speed, I’ll be there for no more than a week. Clothes, food, bedding - I’ll need everything. Horses too. I think Kesten is the one closest to matching Agatha’s speed. I’ll ride him.’

‘How many will be going with you, Your Highness?’

Pepin considered for a moment. Bernard was alone. He wouldn’t need any help to fight the boy. He was bigger, stronger, and better at fighting - Bernard didn’t stand a chance. There was a high chance that Lothar would attack if he took too long, or if he failed, so keeping the meeting point a secret was vital. Too large a group would make him easy to follow. He’d need to be ready to run if Lothar’s men found him. Smaller groups were faster. The neat convergence of his needs made the calculation simple.

‘Five. Make sure they’re men that are loyal to me. It they’re known to Bernard, even better. I want one of them to be a decent cook. Have fast horses prepared for them as well. No uniforms. Everyone needs to look like a civilian.’

In truth, Castle Star was an unimpressive ruin the two brothers had found years ago. The few stones remaining barely formed a doorway, and it was probably never part of a castle. More likely an old storage building for the nearby villa. Pepin had been eleven and Bernard only six when they discovered it. They were young enough to still think it might mark the location of a sleeping Princess or an evil wizard’s treasure. They weren’t supposed to wander that far into the trees, but nobody was there to stop them. So long as they never spoke of it, nobody would know they had broken the rules. They kept their secret jealously. Lothar didn’t know it existed.

The villa itself was high up in the mountains, looking down on the capital. The Queen went there when she was feeling poorly. She probably also went there whenever she was sick of the King. He never visited it. Even Pepin and Bernard only went to visit her there once.

The Queen was in extremely bad health for their visit, barely making it outside to sit on the balcony for a few minutes a day. Everyone in the villa was occupied looking after her. The boys were left to find their own entertainment. A mountain villa might have been a wonderful place for a sick woman to stay while she recovered, but there was nothing there for children. After being banished from the kitchen for being a nuisance, they explored the mountainside with abandon. Nobody seemed to care how late they got in, so long as they hadn’t torn their clothes. Emboldened, the pair spent a night out at their secret ruin. They were exiled from the villa the following day. They’d been there for barely a week. Too much stress for the Queen.

Pepin had no intention of camping at the ruin. They would stay at the villa. It wouldn’t be occupied. It had an excellent view, but not much else. Certainly no strategic value. His attendants would be pleasantly surprised when they arrived at a nice house instead of a crumbling ruin. The misdirection was necessary. He had to keep Lothar from guessing where he was going.