Rendezvous

Roland waited a day and a half at his makeshift camp before the first signs of the Rhone arrived. First, nature around him quieted significantly. The birds' chirping ceased, and the buzz of the autumn insects dimmed.

He drew back into the bushes, reminding himself that he was not Rhone's enemy, as far as they were concerned, unless something had gone very wrong after he left.

He wondered whether he should be casually out in the open when they arrived, or remain hidden until he saw someone he recognized. He was now familiar with a fair number of the main troops from his weeks of training, but of course the coordination of multiple camps in this attack meant that most of the footsoldiers would not be able to recognize him.

Surely his garb would be enough for them to take him at his word?

At last, a scout appeared, moving stealthily through the bushes. The man whistled quietly like a bird, a signal of greeting. Roland whistled the reply before emerging from the bushes. The scout bowed and greeted him.

"Prince Derek, I'm here to convey you to your father." He spoke quietly, as all Rhone do. It was a little bit of culture shock to move between that and Klain's boisterous public life of merchants calling out their wares in the city and people talking over the constant hum of human activity, street noise, and general cacophony of life.

"Excellent, thank you," Roland replied softly. Something seemed slightly wrong about the situation, but perhaps that was just his general unease with continuing to play spy/intermediary.

Or his lingering trepidation about it being revealed how large a role he had played in revealing Rhone's main spy to their enemy. Though he'd been wearing a disguise during the meeting, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that he would be discovered anyway.

He motioned to the man to lead onward even while he swallowed his fear that things could go terribly wrong at any moment. Forward was the only direction to move.

The scout opened a door to the Darkness and Roland stepped through with him. They joined hands, a necessity in the blackened void, and the Scout let him swiftly over the terrain.

Roland wondered how much practice it had taken to move so quickly and so surely without sight nor sound to guide him. For his own part, he tripped a fair amount but was able to maintain his balance with the other man's help.

Soon, he saw a light in the far distance. Or, perhaps it was closer than he imagined. The Darkness fought with it in a strange and unsettling way. In Roland's world, Shadows fled from light to hide. Here, the shadows seemed to attack any light in an attempt to smother it from existence. As if the darkness was just as active as the fire, but in the opposite way.

Coming closer after a few moments, other lights appeared. It was a series of campfires, arranged in a circle to mark the edges of the Rhone camp. In the center was the largest fire, a bonfire which looked to be constantly fed by laborers.

It was oppressively hot, and yet the light of the bonfire reached only a quarter as far as Roland would have expected for an inferno that size.

When they came to the edge of the camp, the Scout with Roland spoke at last, or at least for the first time Roland heard.

"This way, your Highness," He dipped his head as he released Roland's hand.

Roland followed him through the camp and toward the only tent, which was near the center.

He wondered at that. He had never seen it rain in the Darkness, nor have any sort of weather which might require shelter. The tent itself would block out the light of the bonfire, and would require lamps inside for anything to be seen or heard.

The only possible reason for the structure would be privacy, which could also easily be had by wandering but a few steps into the Darkness. He wondered if he would ever find out the reasons behind all of Rhone's strange habits.

The tent flap was moved for him, and he entered a well-lit (for the darkness, at least) area. That was curious.

At a table sat Prince Duncan. He stood when Roland entered. The shadows across his face made him look older than when Roland had left.

"Hello, Father," Roland bowed, and Duncan smiled with some relief.

"I wasn't entirely confident you would come back," He admitted. "Things have become tense here."

"What's happened?" Roland asked quietly. He was confident that no one outside could hear anything, but the silence was still strange to speak into.

"Titania has questioned my command. Sending you on the mission did not sit well with her, as I expected. She is considering taking over command of the troops entirely, stripping me of any power I have."

Roland blanched. That would make his efforts to find a different solution to the prophecy entirely futile. He knew the queen would not be swayed by any alternative explanation for the poem's meaning, and the efforts to obliterate Klain would be ceaseless.

"Would she do that?" Roland wanted to know his chances.

"I do not know." Duncan frowned at his son. "I am far more experienced at military strategy and commanding the troops directly. She knows the war effort would not go as smoothly with the troops' confusion. I think she seeks to cow me properly. Now that you are back, I can make whatever reparations she seems necessary to maintain my control. I think she will back down, but I cannot be sure."

Roland nodded thoughtfully as he processed the information. Things could have gone far worse while he was away.

"Did you make any progress on your quest?" Duncan asked after a moment.

"Yes and no," Roland hedged. "I have some leads on possible explanations about the Sorcerer mentioned. There is a story in Klain's library about a great sorcerer who long ago ruled, and then punished and rewarded races as he deemed appropriate. The best of people were turn to Fae, the worst became Goblins, Halflings, and Giants. Everyone left remained human.

"The Fae are said to live high in the mountains and seek the Sorcerer's Will," He went on, unwilling to admit just yet that he had met a Fae, "So that might provide clues as to the prophecy. Additionally, as far as the roots and the mountain's keep, I have learned there are ancient tunnels under the city that lead into the mountains behind. They store all manner of things. Perhaps the city need not be destroyed to search it and find the cure."

Roland hoped this alone would be convincing enough, but Duncan shook his head.

"We have known of the tunnels for some time, but our spies have been unable to infiltrate them. They are heavily guarded by the military and peacekeeping officers." The crown prince's mouth flattened into a dissatisfied line. He abhorred that any part of his efforts were ineffective, and admitting the failing pained him.

"I... know people. I could get in." Roland said slowly. He was entirely confident that he could do so, and perhaps even convince the General to let in one or two Rhone soldiers come with him, if it would delay or prevent attack. Duncan's eyes narrowed.

"You are confident of this?" He asked. "And you would be loyal to Rhone through it all?"

"My commitment is to preventing war," Roland said honestly. "There would be deaths on both sides, and it would pain me most deeply. If there is a diplomatic solution that can be found, I would find it and free Rhone from the curse, making conquest and obliteration unnecessary."

"Even if it is no longer necessary, do you think that will prevent it?" Duncan studied his son carefully. Titania would not back down, and he needed to know if, when it came to battle, Roland would be on his side.

"I will do whatever it takes to prevent war." Roland faced his father fully and spoke boldly.

"Why, Derek! What an admirable devotion to saving Rhone lives!" Titania breezed into the tent, "but it is unnecessary that you should prevent anything. None of our brave men will be lost in the coming battle. Our plans are all but fullproof. You need not worry a whit!"

She approached her grandson and raised her hand affectionately to his cheek. "Now cease such talk immediately. Others might mistake it for cowardice or sympathy for the enemy, and we can't have that!"

Roland steeled himself not to cringe away from her touched, and smiled blandly at her instead.

"I am gratified to have you safely with me," She said, her eyes shimmering with moisture, "When I was told you were sent away on a mission, I despaired! To send you back into the territory of the people who treated you so abhorrently. But I should have known you would return to us safe and sound, never to leave us again."