“I know that,” Hadrian blurted out, and regretted it the moment he did, as all eyes looked his way. “It’s just that I remember hearing that as a kid. Not the whole thing, just the last part. We used to sing it when we played a game called Fall-the-Wall. We didn’t know what it meant. We didn’t think it meant anything. Although some of the kids thought it had something to do with the ruins of Amberton Lee.”
“It does!” Arista broke in. “Amberton Lee is all that remains of the ancient capital of Percepliquis.”
Hadrian heard the reactions of disbelief around the table.
“How do you know this?” Sir Murthas asked inquisitorially. “Scholars and adventurers have searched for centuries and a wit-” He caught himself. “A princess just happens to know where it is? What proof do you have?”
“I had-” Arista began when the empress cut her off.
“Princess Arista has provided to me irrefutable proof that what she says is indeed true.” Modina glared at the knight.
Sir Murthas looked as if he might protest, but he closed his mouth in defeat.
“I believe the city is buried,” Arista went on. “I think Edmund Hall found a way in. If only we had his journal… but the Crown Tower is gone, along with everything in it.”
“Wait a minute,” Hadrian said. “Was it a beat-up brown leather notebook? About this big?” He gestured with his hands.
“Yes,” the Patriarch said.
Arista looked back and forth between them. “How do you know that?”
“I know it because I have lived in the Crown Tower,” the Patriarch said.
“And you?” Arista looked at Hadrian, who hesitated.
“Ha-ha! Of course, of course. I knew it!” Cosmos DeLur chuckled and clapped his hands together in single applause while smiling at Hadrian. “Such a wonderfully delightful rumor as that had to be true. That is an exquisite accomplishment.”
“You stole it?” Arista asked.
“Yes, he did,” the Patriarch declared.
“Actually,” Hadrian said, “Royce and I did, but we put it back the next night.”
“Riyria’s reputation is well founded,” Cosmos said.
“I did not wish to lose such an important treasure again, so since then, I’ve kept it with me at all times.” The Patriarch pulled out a small ruddy-brown leather book and lay it on the table. “This is the journal of Edmund Hall, the daily account of his descent into the ancient city of Percepliquis and what lies within.”
Everyone stared at the book for a moment in silence.
“The princess is correct,” the Patriarch continued. “The city lies beneath Amberton Lee and Hall did find a means in. He also found a great deal more than that. The journal speaks of a terrible shaft of darkness, an underground sea that must be crossed, insidiously complex tunnels and tight crevices, bloodthirsty tribes of Ba Ran Ghazel, and a monster so terrible Hall could not fully describe it.”
“You’re saying the ancient capital is only three miles from Hintindar?” Hadrian asked.
“Yes,” Modina said, “and I plan on sending in a party to retrieve this horn.”
“Having read Hall’s journal,” the Patriarch said, “I believe you will need several skilled warriors, someone with historical knowledge of the city, someone with spelunking skills, and someone with sailing experience. I have already sent three teams on this very mission. Perhaps I-”
“I know,” the empress said. “They all failed. Princess Arista will organize my team.”
“If we could borrow Hall’s journal,” Arista said, “that would be of great assistance. I promise you’ll have it returned before the party sets out.”
The Patriarch’s smile seemed to waver, but he nodded. “Of course. It is the least I can do.”
Modina gestured toward Arista. “Your Highness, if you will…”
The princess stood up and faced the table. Before she could talk, however, Sir Elgar got to his feet. “Hold on,” he said. “Are you saying we aren’t even going to try and fight them? We’re just going to sit here and wait for some fairy-tale horn that might not even exist anymore? I say we form ranks, march north, and hit them before they hit us!”
“Your courage is commendable,” Sir Breckton said, “but in this instance foolish. We have no idea where our enemy is, the size or strength of their force, or their path of movement. Without even the faintest hint about our enemy we would be as a blind man fumbling around for a bear in the forest. And all attempts to discover anything about our foe have met with failure. I have sent dozens of scouts and few have returned.”
“It seems wrong to just wait.”
“We won’t just be waiting,” the empress said. “You can be assured that Sir Breckton has drawn up excellent plans for the defense of Aquesta, which I expect each of you to support. We have already begun overstocking the city with supplies and reinforcing the walls. We should not deceive ourselves: this war-this storm-is coming and we must be prepared for it. I assure you, we will stand, we will fight, and we will pray. As I find myself faced with annihilation, I am not above throwing support to even the thinnest promise. If there is a chance that finding this horn can save my people-my family-we must try. I will do whatever it takes to protect us. I would even make a deal with Uberlin himself if that is what is needed.”
When she was done, no one said a word until she once more gestured toward Arista.
The princess took a breath. “I have already discussed this with the empress. The team will be small, no more than twelve, I think. Two people must go. For the rest, I will ask for volunteers, starting from a list we have already prepared. I will speak with those on the list individually, in order to allow for the privacy of each person’s decision.”
“And who are these two?” Murthas asked. “The ones that must go. Can we know their names?”
“Yes,” Arista said. “They are Degan Gaunt and myself.”
Several people spoke at once. Sir Elgar and the other knights laughed, and Alric started to protest, but by far the loudest voice in the room came from Degan Gaunt.
“Are you insane?” he shouted, jumping to his feet. “I’m not going anywhere! Why do I have to go? This is just another plot of the aristocracy to silence me. Can’t you see what this really is? This elven threat is a hoax, an excuse to oppress the common man once more!”
“Sit down, Mr. Gaunt,” Modina said. “We’ll discuss this in private as soon as the meeting is over.”
Gaunt dubiously sat down and slumped in his chair.
The empress rose and the room went silent. “This concludes this meeting. Sir Breckton will begin by convening a war council here in one hour to specify in detail the reorganization of troops and the requisition of supplies and arms necessary to develop a proper defense for the city. Those not asked to join the Percepliquis party should meet back here at that time. In the future, Chancellor Nimbus and Secretary Amilia will be on hand in their offices to answer any additional questions. May Maribor protect us all.”
The room filled with the sounds of scraping chairs and low conversations. Hadrian rose to his feet but stopped when he felt Arista’s hand on his arm.
“We stay here,” she told him.
He glanced up the length of the table as the kings and knights began filing out of the room. The empress made no indication of leaving, nor did Amilia or Nimbus. He even caught the spindling chancellor subtly patting the table with his hand, as further indication that Hadrian should sit back down. Alric and Mauvin stood but did not advance toward the exit.
The Patriarch, flanked by his bodyguards, exited the hall. He looked back, nodding and smiling, his staff clicking on the stone. He was the last one out of the hall, and with a nod from Nimbus, guards closed the doors. A dull but-Hadrian felt-ominous thud echoed with their closing.