"I am truly sorry, my lord," continued Kaden. "The effort is in full force. I have my best men out looking for her right now. And I pledge to you that I will continue my personal search tirelessly until we find her. Do not lose hope. I will bring Princess Mariko home safely."
The king nodded. "Yes, Captain, I'm sure you will."
"But, my lord, I have not come here to discuss your daughter. I have other news."
The king was puzzled. "And what would that be?"
"The Obsidian Ridge, my lord. It's on the move."
The king leaped from the dais and dashed for the steps that led up to his private chambers. The balcony that had provided him with the perfect view of the Llorbauth valley now had become the best vantage point to track the black citadel that menaced the city.
"Quinn, Kaden, with me!" the king shouted as he charged up the stairs.
The men followed their king, and all three arrived at the top, winded from the climb.
Dashing to the open doors, the king stepped out onto the veranda to see the Obsidian Ridge slowly drifting to the east. It had moved several acres since last he had set eyes upon it. The shadow it cast over the valley had moved directly over the docks.
"In the name of Torm, what is it going to do now?" King Korox rubbed his forehead as he wondered aloud at what new horror his kingdom was on the brink of experiencing.
The floating castle drifted out over Shalane Lake, then came to a complete stop. Everyone in the king's chamber held their breath as they watched, waiting to see what was going to happen next.
But nothing did. The Obsidian Ridge remained hovering in the air, the edges of its jagged exterior gleaming pitch black in the late morning sun.
+++++
The room went silent as the Matron entered. She had been in deep contemplation over these recent developments, and she had finally come to some conclusions.
It was time to share her thoughts with the rest of the council.
All the prominent members of the Erlkazarian underworld were present, and they sat around a long oval table at the center of the dark room. There were no windows, no connection at all to the outside world, only the weak light of mage-lit stones arranged in candelabra on the table. The floor of the room was sunken, the center where the table sat was several steps down from where someone would enter. And the walls were built of thick stone, thicker than many of the castles in this part of Faerun.
The doors that led into the chamber were built from solid steel. It took the strength of four men to pull them open or slam them closed. At the moment, all of them-except the one leading to the Matron's private study-were shut and locked. If someone had cared to try to exit through the study, they would have found that there was no physical or magical way out. The walls were built of the same stone as the rest of the room, and the magical wards that protected the area from scrying also protected it from the spells and artifacts that allowed wizards to walk through stone or solid materials.
The Matron stepped down into the center of the room and, adjusting the veil across her face, took her seat at the head of the table. Around the outside of the main chamber, arranged along the walls like ornamental statues, were three dozen armed bodyguards. The men and women seated at this table all had at least one thing in common-they took their personal safety very seriously.
"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," said the Matron. "We have many things to discuss."
A chorus of grumbled agreement filled the room.
The Matron raised her hand and the room fell silent again. "By now you have heard that the master of the Obsidian Ridge has made a demand of the king." She slowly moved her gaze over each and every member of the underworld present before her. "That he turn over his daughter, or Erlkazar will be destroyed."
Again grumbling.
"Even if the king were willing to make such a sacrifice, he is, as you all know, unable to do so at this very moment," said the Matron.
"Then we should make his life easy and turn over the princess for him," shouted a burly, bearded half-ore at the far end of the table.
The comment brought a number of laughs and a small round of agreement.
"I'm afraid that is impossible," said the Matron. "The princess is no longer within our reach."
A tall, dark-haired woman wearing a gown that appeared to be laced in the front with thick spider's silk stood up from her chair. "What do you mean, she's no longer within our reach? Did you lose her?"
The Matron bristled at the accusation. "We did not lose her."
"If you did not lose her, then where is she?" pressed the dark-haired woman.
"I have told you," said the Matron in a calm, even voice. "She is outside of our reach."
"Why would you let this happen? Did you not have a plan for using her to our advantage?"
The Matron smiled. "Of course I did."
"Then perhaps you can explain," responded the spider woman, "how she can be of use to us if she is outside of our reach?"
The Matron took a deep breath and then lifted herself out of her chair. The mage-lit stones on the table flared then subsided, making the room seem darker than it was before. The woman in the spider-silk gown quickly glanced around the table. None of the other invitees would make eye contact with her. Looking at the Matron, she bowed her head and sat down.
"The princess was merely a way for us to manipulate the king," she started, clearly pleased by her display of power.
"His recent involvement in the Elixir trade has begun to take its toll on our profits. The kidnapping of the princess was a message to the king. Any further meddling in our affairs will not be tolerated. If he wants to hit us where it hurts, then we will do the very same to him. No one is safe. No one is outside of our reach, not even the Warrior King, Korox Morkann."
"But things have changed, Matron," said a dark-skinned man near her end of the table. He spoke respectfully, but loud enough for the others to hear. "There is more at stake now. The Obsidian Ridge threatens all of Erlkazar. It threatens all of our businesses and our lives."
"He is right," agreed another man at the far end of the table. "If Erlkazar is destroyed, who will we sell to? Surely we must change our course."
The Matron balled her hands into fists and took a deep breath. She glared at the collection of underworld figures, daring them with her eyes to challenge her again. When no one spoke, she continued.
"The appearance of the black citadel has only strengthened our ploy," she explained. "Not only do we have something the king dearly wants back, but now he has further pressure to negotiate with us in a timely fashion."
"But Matron," said the dark-skinned man, "you said the princess is outside of our reach. How can we negotiate with the king if we no longer have what he wants?"
The Matron smiled. "But we do have what he wants. We tell him that we have his daughter. That the only way he will get her back and save his entire kingdom is for him to grant our businesses protection above the law. We will tell him he will get his daughter back when he has not only given us his blessing but also his good name as endorsement to our Elixir."
"This is preposterous." The spider woman stood up again. "First you tell us the princess is not in our possession, then you tell us she is. You keep talking in circles. But even if you do have her, what's stopping the king from going back on his word once he has what he wants? There is only one way to keep the seat of power in line-fear. We must assassinate the king, turn his daughter over to the master of the Obsidian Ridge, and reap the benefits of the panic that ensues."
This brought grumbles of agreement around the table.
"Yes, she is right," said an elderly man sitting next to her. "The king and his line must be taught a lesson. The damage they have done to our Elixir operations cannot go unpunished."