Chapter 1

  Lebre’s Southwestern Coast, Four Weeks and Five Days after Colin’s Defeat.

  “We better get to Constansia soon,” Isabeau called out behind her. “Why’d Sir Piers send us out here when we have Blaise’s ceremony to go to tomorrow?”

  Isabeau spurred Roy on, passing by her mentor and fellow Executioner-Knights member, Sir Tancred. The semi-retired Black Knight chided her as she took the lead on the sandy trail.

  “Do not get too far ahead, Isabeau! We do not know the danger Sir Sulpice’s daughter may be in.” Due to holding onto the reins of a third horse as he rode, Tancred had no hope of keeping up.

  Isabeau signaled to her steed to move faster, and Roy entered a full gallop. The chestnut-and-white rouncey let out a small whinny; he had little of his old fear following his training at the vineyard and had learned to love to go fast. Tencendur, Tancred’s golden destrier, could do little to keep up. Isabeau couldn’t see her mentor and his horses, but she could only imagine the look of frustration on his face. She’d slow down soon, so long as Roy wanted to.

  Isabeau hadn’t felt this free since the bullfight she won in Talerno, long before she joined the Executioner-Knights and went on a quest to find —and unfortunately kill— her brother Colin. Though the deed itself had been hard to do and she still felt some grief over it, the early morning wind in her hair and the incredible view of the rising sun casting its light upon the world’s ring lessened her turmoil over what she’d done those few weeks ago. Or so it would for now, at least, until she settled down to bed tonight and thought about Colin all over again.

  As Tancred caught up to her and arrived at the hill overlooking the seaside cove, Isabeau pointed to the wreck of a baghlah nestled among the rocks. She couldn’t see any signs of people on the sand below, but according to the information given to her and Sir Tancred by the Executioner-Knights’ Grand Master, it seemed they’d arrived at the right place.

  “Now why are we looking for Sulpice’s daughter again?” asked Isabeau. “I thought Loren was taking over his duties.”

  “Loren is,” said Tancred, “but Loren only went to him to learn alchemy. Constansia will be taking over the armor shop. She was supposed to arrive in Talerno by yesterday, but never did, and this shipwreck is our only clue.”

  “I hope she’s not been waiting too long,” Isabeau replied, feeling a little bit of sadness wash over her as she recalled the old alchemist’s heroic death on Mount Albedo. “I met her once when I was having my reading lessons, but I can’t say I ever got to know her that well.”

  Tancred dismounted from his horse, as did Isabeau. They descended the hill, moving their way down to the swaying palms of the coastline. Not only had the season for winemaking arrived in the county, but it also happened to be the time when the dates became ripe. This year was a great year for them; heaving red clusters of the fruits drooped down from the fronds. Dates were a treat that Isabeau and Tancred savored around this time of year, among the other products of autumn’s bounty. Isabeau heard a rustle in one of the palms and a set of low, harsh barks. Tancred got behind a tall boulder and motioned for her to follow.

  As Isabeau watched from behind the large stone, a peculiar creature dropped down from one of the date palms and scurried out onto the sand. It had the form of a baboon, but a nearly hairless body aside from the mane around its neck. The creature’s yellow eyes swiveled in opposing directions as it investigated its surroundings, a prehensile tongue reaching up to give each eye a lick. The transmutant gradually changed its skin from date-red to match the color of the sand it sat upon.

  “A mandrilleon,” Tancred whispered, “and I doubt it is alone.”

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  “But would a few small animals cause her this much trouble?” Isabeau whispered back.

  “I am not so sure we should underestimate the mandrilleons,” Sir Tancred replied. “There have been increasing reports of arktree creatures behaving strangely, lately, and we should not take chances around a beast with a tongue powerful enough to crush a man’s knees.”

  As Tancred predicted, the mandrilleon’s friends soon arrived. The intended job of mandrilleons was to propagate date palms by spreading the seeds, and most accounts of the creatures depicted them as more fearful of humans than anything otherwise. However, Isabeau would soon find those stories corrected. She smelled recently spilled blood in the air and squinted as she tried to look further out towards the wreck of the small ship. There she found the source of the scent, at least three or four sailors lying dead on the ground. Sir Tancred certainly hadn’t exaggerated the potential strength of those creatures when agitated. No sight or sound of Constansia dulled Isabeau’s hopes that she might be found alive.

  Mandrilleons could prove a greater threat than expected, but Isabeau had packed something that she knew would scare them off. She began to draw Cherry, her longsword. Sir Tancred gave her a nod.

  A glyph, painted in white at the base of the sword’s red blade, began to sizzle and glow. Isabeau took a silent step out from behind the rock and pointed it at the chattering mandrilleons. She saw the leader of the troop, finding him by his larger size and the signature red and blue scales lining his muzzle. She took in a deep breath.

  “Fulgura!”

  A white bolt shot forth from her blade. It whizzed across the sand, striking its target, and obliterating him in a puff of white flames. The other mandrilleons screeched and turned tail, running back to the relative safety of the date palms. Tancred put an encouraging hand over Isabeau’s shoulder.

  “An excellent shot. Now, let us see if Constansia is still aboard her ship.”

  Isabeau and Tancred approached the damaged vessel, using a previously extended rope ladder to climb up onto the deck of the baghlah. Just as they reached the deck, a blacksmith’s hammer was pointed at them by a sturdy-looking woman with a smattering of rosacea across her nose and cheeks. The little bit of brown hair that Isabeau could see from under the woman’s linen coif had a streak of gray and she glared the two Executioner-Knights down with hard, gray eyes. She put the hammer down, however, when she recognized who had come to retrieve her.

  “Sir Tancred…?”

  “It is I, Constansia. I do regret that your return to Lebre has not been so warmly received.”

  “Not much worse than the welcome I got when I went to the Emirate,” she replied, wincing and rubbing her back. “I don’t know what my father got into with the alchemists there, but I can’t imagine they aren’t celebrating his passing.”

  Isabeau moved to support Constansia, letting the woman lean on her.

  “Are you hurt?” she asked.

  “I just banged my back pretty bad when the ship hit the coast,” the lady armorer replied. “…Is that you, Isabeau? I almost didn’t recognize you in that armor.”

  “I joined the Executioner-Knights a couple of months ago. There’s…a lot to catch you up on.”

  Isabeau made her way down the rope ladder from the ship first, holding it steady for when both Constansia and Tancred took their descents. Now with everyone’s feet planted firmly back down on the sand, Isabeau felt a lot more comfortable. She saw no more signs of the mandrilleons, nor any other trouble around the shipwreck or the palms.

  “We brought you a horse for the ride back,” said Isabeau as she began to walk back for the hills.

  “Thank you,” said Sulpice’s daughter, “but what of my equipment and my belongings? They’re still aboard the ship.”

  “Sir Piers has made arrangements for their recovery upon your return to Talerno,” said Tancred. He, Isabeau, and Constansia took a cautious walk up the path to the horses, keeping an eye out for danger, and returned to their mounts. As Isabeau took the reins for the horse intended for Constansia, the older woman sighed.

  “It’s still hard for me to believe my father’s gone, you know? I completely believe the way it happened, but…”

  “I miss Sulpice, too,” Isabeau replied, putting a hand over Constansia’s shoulder, “but even if he never told me in words, I know that he’d always hoped you’d come back and keep his shop running. He supported your wish to go out and see the world beyond the county, but he always took a lot of care in keeping things just-so in case you decided to come home.”

  “I’m sure he did,” said Constansia with a smile. She gave Isabeau a nod.

  “I shall escort Constansia from here, Isabeau,” said Tancred. “You may return to the vineyard and make your preparations for your journey to Castle Baultain tomorrow, and I will join you as soon as our friend is settled in.”

  “Thank you, Sir Tancred,” Isabeau replied. She went to mount Roy. “And Constansia, it was nice to see you again after all this time.”

  “Likewise,” the armorer replied.

  Isabeau turned her horse around and galloped away. She couldn’t let the day slip past her when she had so much to do to prepare for the festivities tomorrow night.