Le Jeune Guilavene

Chapter 18

A small, warm hand quickly covered the young hunter’s mouth before he screamed. Merle frowned and shh’d him condescendingly. Van blinked at her in surprise and then sighed.
“Merle, you nearly scared me to death,” he saidtly.tly.
The little hybrid just smiled mischievously at him and chuckled.
“You are too nervous.”
“Hn. Easy for you to say,” he grumbled.
The girl jumped onto the bed, careful to avoid hitting Van’s injured sighed, and ended up straddling him with her knees on either side of his hips. The young man, very aware of she her position, blushed scarlet. He really hoped she did not sit down on him. Completely oblivious to Van’s discomfort, Merle worked at the thick leather straps until they were undone.
She jumped of the bed, landing cat-like on all fours and then standing. As soon as the demi-demon turned her back, the boy quickly relieved that tortuous itch that had been bugging him all night. The injured youth took his time sitting up, his wound still extremely painful. This was much worse than that time at the Qurian temple. When he had finally managed to stand and wrap his thin blanket around him, Merle had grabbed him some hospital clothes. Plain gray hee fiber pajamas, while not flattering, at least did not irritate his injury and Van was thankful for them.
“Merle, how did you get in here?” he whispered.
“There’s a secret passageway behind the tapestry of a forest. Come on, we have to get you out of here before anyone realizes I’m gone,” she explained. n sin sighed and rolled his eyes. So much for all the ‘protection’ he was receiving. If they could not stop a twelve year old half demon, what good would they be against a full grown pure demon?
Merle grabbed a wooden crutch from the storage closet and gave it Van to lean on to minimize the stress he put on his side. It seemed the young girl knew her way around this place. He limped after her as she lead him to the tapestry and carefully pulled the rolling stone wall aside. Inside the passageway, it was narrow and dark, but the hybrid had lit some of the candles alone the wall so they could find their way.
They walk in silence, too unnerved in this claustrophobic place to think of anything worth saying. Their walk did not last long, luckily. They exited into empty corridor with a series of doors on one side and windows on the other. Merle was quick to make sure everything was clear, before signaling Van to leave the relative safety of the shadows.
They continued unharassed for a while, and Van was beginning to feel more and more anxious.
“Merle, where are all the guards?” he asked.
The demi-demon visibly tensed for a moment. This was not lost on the young hunter.
“Most of the guards have been repositioned near the Royal Family, because of the Chid’s kidnapping,” she said, a slight quiver in her voice.
“Are you alright, Merle?”
“Ah, yeah. I just don’t want to get caught. We’ll both be in a lot of trouble if that happens.”
Van did not doubt that, though he himself could not get into much more trouble than he was already in. As they were about to turn into another hallway, they passed a portrait of an old fashioned knight with sword and shield. Realization hit the fugitive youth. He had forgotten Dilandu and his father’s sword! He could not leave them here. Not only were they of personal importance to him, but he would not stand a chance if he faced anyone, demon or human, without a weapon.
“Wait,” he said.
The demi-demon turned to him, clearly worried.
“Where are my swords? Lord Balgus said they were being held as evidence somewhere.”
“They’re in the study with Mr. Stefanus, that merchant guy. Why?”
“I have to get them. You have to take me to them.”
Merle looked horrified and avidly shook her head ‘no‘.
“Listen, you have to. I just can’t leave Dilandu here, they’ll destroy him eventually and I can’t simply abandon my father’s most prized possession. Please, take me to them,” he begged her.
“No, I can’t. You’ll be caught if you go that way. And even if you did not, you cannot take on Mr. Stefanus in your state. Me might just be a merchant, but he’s armed!” she said.
“Please!”
The hybrid girl paced back and forth for several moments, trying to figure out what to do. She was in a position that had no positive outcome. She glanced back at Van, who stood leaning weakly against his crutch and watching her with dark earnest eyes.
“Alright.. but I can only accompany you part way,” the demi-demon said finally.
Van smiled softly at her.
“Thank you.”
Merle flinched at the words and headed in a different direction than the way they had originally been going. Three or four empty corridors later, they came upon a pair of large ornately decorated doors. His guide indicated that was where he needed to go and she could not accompany him. He smiled and nodded his thanks to her again, then headed towards the study. Merle was on the verge of tears when he crept quietly through the heavy doors, leaving his crutch behind.

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Dryden skimmed over one of the smaller texts he had gathered, reading the ancient Friedian dialect with some difficulty. That was thing about demonology, all the best material was Friedian, and Austorians had always been a bit too ethnocentric to accept that fact. So now all the books available were few and outdated, given by the Friedians themselves during a peace that no one could remember. He tossed the book asin frn frustration and rubbed his eyes.
The study, really a small library with a large desk in the middle, was cylinder in structure with a large collection of books lining the wall, and a series of ladders that rolled along specially made tracks so one could access the texts higher up or reach the second level of the study, which held the more obscure literature of foreign countries. Most of Dryden’s material was from than level and had spent a good portion of his even hauling the written montrosities up and down said ladders. Now he was trying to find as much information as he could about Escaflowne, as well as the history of he Guilavene family. Van’s two swords rested on the desk before him, inspiring him to continue his long and tedious study.
he merchant stretched his aching shoulders. He wished Allen were here. Perhaps he could have convinced the man to rub his shoulders. He grinned to himself at the mental image. Yes, he just about had the prince wrapped around his little finger. The man’s intense curiosity for what Dryden was offering had made his job so much easier. Soon, he would make his move.
A soft creak behind him, caught his attention. Mentally, he grinned. Perhaps sooner than he had anticipated?
“I was not expecting to see you until morning, your highness,” he said playfully, still staring at the various texts scattered across his desk.
“Come now, there are no need for such lofty titles among friends,” came a slightly sarcastic voice, a pitch or two higher than he was anticipating.
Dryden spun around sharply in his swiveling chair. Standing before him was the infamous Guilavene, small and potentially lethal. The merchant let a small smile grace his lips as he regarded the stubborn youth. Van did not look nearly as amused.
“You have gotten out. I should have known you would,” the older man said.
“I haven’t the time to waste on you, Merchant. Where are my swords?” he demanded.
“Are you certain you do not wish to talk, even for a little while?”
“Yes!” Van snapped.
“Not even if the subject were about the Strategos, or perhaps Dilandu? I am certain there are things that not even you know about them,” the man offered, staring disinterestedly at his finger nails.
The injured boy hesitated for a moment. If there was something that he could use against Folken, shouldn’t he hear the man out? At the same time, Dryden was a crafty character and there was no telling how trustworthy any of his information would be or what his intentions are. But could he pass up this opportunity? Van gave him a sardonic smile.
“Always the dealer, aren’t you merchant? Very well, talk.”
Dryden flashed him his own charming grin.
“Ah, but a man like myself gives nothing for free. Not even information.”
Van frowned.
“I have nothing to offer you.”
“Untrue. You have information I would like to know as well. So how about this? For every question you answer, I will tell you something I know,” the merchant offered.
“What if I already know something you tell me or your information is not worth the same as the answer to your question?”
“Than you stop answering questions until I tell you something worth knowing.”
“This game is flawed,” Van stated.
“Yes, but it makes it flexible as well. Shall we begin?”
“Very well, ask your question.”
Dryden nodded, and took up a pen and parchment, placing them on top of a book in his lap so that he could make notes. The younger man gave him a strange look and shook his head.
“Who was that demon you fought, the shape shifting one?” the dark haired man asked.
“His name was Zongi. He was servant of the Strategos, sent as a distraction to get the soldiers away from the palace.”
“So that was Zongi? Hm, no wonder Dilandu looked so happy,” Dryden mused.
“Why is that?”
“Zongi is the very same demon that imprisoned your demonic servant into Escaflowne, almost three centuries ago.”
“Why did he do that?”
“Ah, ah. My question now, remember?”
Van rolled his eyes and crossed his arms impatiently.
“What is your relationship regarding the Strategos?”
The boy shook his head.
“Ask another question. I will not answer that one.”
Disappointed, Dryden tried another.
“What is your relationship regarding Dilandu?”
Van looked confused, obviously not understanding.
“I’m not sure what you mean. He is enslaved to me, but I like to think we are more akin to comrades than master and slave. Though should he be free, I do not doubt he will kill me,” the boy said.
“As all good comrades should,” the merchant teased.
The young swordsman had answered enough of his question to answer the various other questions he had. The boy was obviously oblivious to the demon prince’s attentions. Of course, Van had not seen the look in those crimson eyes when he was fighting the demon Zongi.
“Now answer me. Why did Zongi imprison Dilandu for the Strategos?” Van demanded.
“Alright. You may or may not know this, but Dilandu and the Strategos are half brothers,” Dryden informed him.
Oh. The young hunter had not seen that one coming. Though now that he thought about it, it sort of made sense. They did both look a like in certain ways. And perhaps it would explain Dilandu’s bitterness towards Folken’s mother if she became the demon prince’s new wife.
“Anyway, as they were both the son of the demon emperor, Dornkirk, they were both eligible to become the future emperor. Of course there can only be one Emperor, so they were left to fight each other over the matter. Not officially of course. Bad politics for royalty to be fighting amongst themselves. So Emperor Dornkirk made them satraps of their own little kingdoms. The idea was, that when he passed away, the his two sons would have their smaller kingdoms fight each other, and the one who was the better ruler and had the better kingdom would win. Not a bad idea, except that the guy was taking too damn long to die.”
Dryden chuckled to himself, obviously finding the situation amusing. Van tapped his foot impatiently to remind him to get on with the story.
“You see the Emperor, who is actually still alive, has the potential to live forever. And frankly after millennium he’s got damn good at doing it. So after two hundred years of impatiently waiting for the old man to kick the bucket so they could kill each other, Dilandu and the Strategos just plain got fed up with waiting. So instead of having their kingdoms got to war, they ‘subtly’ tried to assassinate the other. When the Emperor found out, he forbade them to kill each other until after his death. If they refused to obey him he would have them both executed- or who ever survived to be execution.’
‘That stopped them both for a while. Until one day, the Strategos’ mother was found poisoned. No one could prove who had done it, but the Strategos was convinced it was Dilandu. Enraged, but unable to do anything, he nearly wasted away from grief in his castle. One of his most loyal servant, whom you know as Zongi, felt so compelled to help his master achieve peace, he ventured into enemy territory.’
‘Somehow he managed to get the demon prince alone and cast a powerful spell on him, sealing and binding him to a sword. He then presented the sword to his master, who named the sword Escaflowne. It means ‘divine justice’ in Zaibachian. The Emperor could do nothing, for the Strategos had not killed his brother. Eventually, Dornkirk gave Dilandu’s kingdom to him and he has been heir to the Imperial thrown ever since,” the merchant finally finished.
Wow, was all Van thought, and I thought my life was complicated.
“Now that I’ve answered that question. Answer mine. You said you were from Fanelia, and I believe you were telling me the truth then. Tell me why you left there and how you got here,” Dryden asked.
“That’s answering two questions,” the boy pointed ou “We “Well, my answer took forever. I think it deserves two questions answered.”
“You wish. But if you must know, my family was killed by the demon you call the Strategos. The people of my village had never cared for my family and tried to exile me, but I left before they had the chance. As for how I got here.. hn.. I hitched hiked most of the way,” he said.
“You aren’t telling me something,” Dryden said, frowning slightly.
“I’m not telling you anything. I will not play this game anymore. I haven’t the time. The guards should report me missing any moment now,” the fugitive said, slowly waking towards older man’s desk, limping slightly.
Behind Van, the study doors burst open, revealing Queen Eries and a troop of a dozen soldiers. Smugness was written over the royal woman’s expression, and the young man immediately knew this had all been a trick. Merle had betrayed him. He turned sharply back to the desk, and made a sprint for his swords laying on top of it. Dryden, however, had beaten him to it. With professional speed and precision, he pulled the elongated dragon slaying sword and swung it, only stopping it when it came to rest against the dark child’s throat.
Van gasped in surprise. He had not realized the merchant was trained in swordsmanship. He looked the older man in the eyes, finding them more serious than he could ever remember them.
“This is not a battle you can win, Van Guilavene. I suggest you use this opportunity to rest and to heal. Plots of escape and battles can wait until then,” Dryden said evenly.
“Battles do not wait for their participants convenience, Dryden. My enemies will not wait while I rest and heal,” the boy countered.
Two large men took hold of the young man’s arms, causing him to grimace as it caused his muscles to stretch around his wounds. The recaptured prisoner did not struggle, knowing he would do more harm than good.
“Be gentle,’ said the queen, ‘he is still injured after all.”
Her Majesty moved to stand before Guilavene, while Dryden moved away to resheath the sword. The beautiful, cold woman studied him intently for several moments, staring into his dark, angry eyes and trying to discern exactly what he was thinking. The Strategos still refused to tell her what he wanted from the boy and the boy either did not know or was stubbornly guarding the secret as well. She had suspected love at first, a rather silly thing to so worked up over, but the sheer tenacity in which the demon pursued the young mortal hinted at something more... important.
But his dark eyes revealed nothing but anger and weariness.
Disappointed, she turned her sights on Dryden who was looking a little angry himself. He was gathering up his books and taking material with a sort of forced efficiency. The merchant glanced at her briefly, but she only seemed to make him angrier, and he quickly finished packing his items away, including the swords, and headed for the door.
“Where are you going, Sir Stefanus?” the blonde woman asked.
“To finish my studies elsewhere. This place is practically crawling with activity, and I’ll never get anything done,” he said sarcastically.
The queen’s blue eyes narrowed sharply.
“I don’t like your tone, Stefanus.”
“And I don’t like being used in your little plots. I refused to play this game from the beginning. Why did you think you could disregard my wishes?” he snapped back.
“How dare you! You are a subject of this kingdom, and bound to my orders regardless of pathetic feelings of ‘fair play’ and ‘honesty‘. And for your information, I did not disregard your wishes. The boy demanded to retrieve his swords before he tried to leave, and Merle foolishly could not refuse him,” she argued.
“Merle? Don’t blame this on her. She’s twelve years old and should never had been involved in this ruse. You selfishly used her, despite her feelings, and she is not in a position to deny you anything. You are a cruel woman,” Dryden said coldly, and continued on his way.
“How dare you! Don’t you walk away from me! I am your Queen!” she screamed irately at him.
The Rogue paid no attention to her and stalked angrily down the hall. Eries could only watch him go, shaking in rage.
“I’ll see that man beaten in public before this over,” she swore vehemently.
Van, who had been listening to the conversation, did not believe she would succeed in her threat. Dryden was a clever character after all, and he would not have provoked such a powerful woman if he did not think he could get away with it. The hunter stiffen in his captors’ arms as Eries turned to him, her eyes still hard with anger.
“What is the meaning of all this? Was there some purpose or were you just bored?” the prisoner demanded, unfazed by her ire.
He had known worse.
“The original plan involved you confiding to Merle everything you refused to tell us before you left the palace and then my men apprehending you. However, I am rather pleased with the results of this evening just the same.”
The youth sneered in disgust at her plan. Not even Folken would be so underhanded.
“Well, young Guilavene, I do believe that you are telling the truth after all, and are not working for the Strategos in any shape, way, or form,” she said, her voice high in mock cheerfulness.
“Then release me. You have no right to hold me here if I am innocent,” Van demanded.
The Queen just smiled mockingly at him.
“Quite the contrary. You see, according to the registration you signed on the day of the tournament, you are sixteen,” she said.
“So?”
“So, if your parents are dead as you say and you are not under guardianship, than it is the responsibility of the government to make sure you are taken care of until a relative can be found to take you in or you turn eighteen. And taking into account your current situation with several demons, as well as your criminal record, I fear it may be some time before we can find an adequate guardian,” she explained.
“That’s a load of crap!” Van growled.
“That is the law. And even you are subject to the law, Guilavene.”
“Why are you doing this? If you know I am innocent, why aren’t helping me?”
“But I am helping you,’ Queen Eries disagreed, ‘You’re are simply being too uncooperative for your own good. Your secretiveness is enough to make anyone suspicious Van,” she said.
“You have not proven yourself to be a trustworthy person, madam,” he hissed.
Her blue eyes narrowed. Why must everyone be so impudent? Did no one believe that she would make them regret it? She turned her cold gaze to the guards.
“Take him to one of the palace guest rooms. Make sure he’s comfortable,” she ordered and stalked out, a pair of her body guards following her.
Van did not have the time to ponder what comfortable meant, before a painful grip on his shoulder shim him into darkness.

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Dryden stalk down the corridor, his fists clenched around Van’s swords. As he went, he noticed Merle sitting behind a large potted plant and crying into her arms. She was weeping rather loudly, and he knew she felt truly awful about what she had done, though she had no choice in the matter. Like Chid, the demi-demon under the queen’s guardianship and Eries was a hard woman to refuse. He did not stop to comfort her, however, as he was too mad at the moment to really offer much support.
Instead, he stalked to Allen’s rooms, completely ignoring the strange looks he was receiving from guards he passed. The prince’s light was still on, despite the late hour. He knocked lightly on the door, and was unsurprised when Gaddes answered. The second-in-command looked mildly annoyed to see him, but moved aside to let him in.
Allen was sitting at a small table, still dressed in his uniform and boots, but his hair hung unbraided down his back and his uniform jacket was unbuttoned and hung loosely around his shoulders. On the small table, a bottle of liquor sat and two filled glass and one empty. It seemed they had been expecting him. He took his given place at the table, set his things beside his chair, and poured himself drink. Gaddes remained by the door, leaning casually against it.
“How did it go,” the blonde man asked, his gaze fixed on the amber liquid in his glass.
“Unfortunately well,” the merchant said with obvious disdain.
“Ah.”
The prince did not look anymore pleased about the situation than Dryden, and indeed he was not. He too had been asked to participate in Eries’ little scheme, but had refused. He thought it cruel and a poor way to repay one who had saved his cousin’s life. His sentiments had unfortunately earned the queen’s ire, however, and he knew was going to have to tread lightly for a while.
“Did he say anything interesting?” Gaddes asked.
The soldier did not care for the her Majesty’s tactics either, but he was dying of curiosity.
“He confirmed that the Strategos killed his parents, but still refused to explain his relation to the demon. That reminds me, I unfortunately left Merle out in the hall. She was rather upset,” Dryden mentioned.
The dark haired soldier frowned, looking rather displeased.
“And you just left her, you jerk?” he growled.
“I wasn’t in the mood to play nanny!” the merchant snapped back.
“Bastard,” Gaddes spat, flashing him a rude gesture.
The man left quickly, no doubt going in search of the crying girl. Dryden smiled slightly to himself as he went. The guy was a bit rough around the edges, but he had his good points and he knew he would be better at comforting Merle than he would have been. Gaddes had also left the merchant some time to be alone with Allen.
“Your Highness, we need to talk,” the remaining brunette said.
The prince, who had been rather quiet, simply nodded.
“I am beginning to wonder if Queen Eries’ intention are pure. She has been rather quick to anger lately with matters regarding Van and her preoccupation with him is concerning.”
“She has every reason to concerned. A demon kidnapped her son because of him and even if it was not his fault, I can understand why she would be a little cross with him. As for her irritation, she is under a lot of stress. Freid has been building its army again, you know? She fears a war is going to come. If that happens she risks loosing her power, not just to Fried, but to the Austorian generals. And then, who is to say what will happen to Chid? He is still too young to take the thrown and civil unrest will make him a prime target for assassination. She is merely worried about the future,” Allen explained.
“I did not realize your family’s hold on power was so frail,” Dryden said.
“Our family has grown small, and there is a limit to how much influence we now carry. Most of us were lost in the war with Freid and the rest are too old have any more children. Should Chid survive to adulthood and produce another heir, however, I’m certain our family can regain its strength. But that is a big if, and we have made powerful enemies.”
And what would Eries do to ensure her family’s continued power, wondered Dryden. He left this thought unsaid, knowing it would anger his pretty one, but he mentally lingered on the possibilities. He did not like where his thoughts lead him.
No, he did not like them one damn bit.

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Queen Eries returned to her quarters, more than a little annoyed with everyone around her. The nerve of that petty swindling sword seller talking to her like that! And Allen, with his high and mighty attitude. Merle was being a perfect little idiot and crying pathetically somewhere. And Balgus had given her such a look when he had learned of what happened to that country brat.
She was surrounded by fools.
The irritated woman ordered her guards away from her door before she entered, despite their adamant protests. They were still concerned for her safety with the current demon activity. Mentally, she smirked. She knew better than anyone what those demons were doing at the moment. In fact, one of them was with her right now, sipping some of her finest red wine with the all refinement befitting of an Emperor.
The Strategos regarded her quietly, his red eyes matching the bloody tint of his w It It was rather arrogant of him to sit there and observe her so blatantly, but from him she could tolerate it. The demon was a man of great power and therefore an equal. She would not admit him to be her superior, for humans ruled the world now and not demons, and she therefore had higher rank if not more power. To her it was almost the same thing.
“I wish you would not play with my prey so carelessly. I would like him intact when I reclaim him,” the Strategos drawled and took another sip of his wine.
“And I wish your servants would not threaten the life of my son, whose life means more to me than your scrawny whelp,” she drawled back.
The pale demon frowned slightly.
“That was an unfortunate mistake, for which my servant paid dearly for. Let us not dwell on the matter,” he said evenly.
“As you wish. But I want another favor out of our deal,” the blonde woman said.
The tall man narrowed his crimson eyes. He did not like ‘haggling’ with mortals. They always had a misguided idea of what they disserved.
“Tell me.”
“I wish you to endow me with the ability to summon the demon Dilandu from Escaflowne,” she stated simply.
“Ah,” was all he said.
Inside, the Demon Merchant was laughing hysterically. He would give her Dilandu, and let the two drive each other mad. He had no doubt that one would find a way to kill the other, and really the demon did not care which one it was.
“I take it that you still wish to continue with the original bargain, then?” he asked, sounding unconcerned of the added stipulation.
“Yes. When the cursed moon is perpendicular to the horizon, I will summon Lord Balgus to me to discuss the current situation with Freid. I have given some of my most trusted men to swallow a sleeping draught as soon as he is out of sight, so they can say they were drugged. Guilavene will be alone and unprotected in that room, which has no windows and only the one door. I do not believe I will be able to distract Lord Balgus for long, however, so I recommend you act quickly,” she explained with the smugness of someone who believes they are more brilliant than they really are.
Folken smiled and lifted his glass to her.
“So be it.”