I was frightened that the Prince might recognize me, but I was dressed scruffily enough and Bel had nearly shaved my head again. Tory hugged me after my hair had been whacked off for the second time.
"What can these do for me?" The Prince sounded less than hopeful as he looked the three of us over.
"This one holds power greater than mine," Bel nodded toward Ry. "These two can provide shields than no wizard can crack." He pointed toward Tory and me. "If you stand with them, your protection will be assured."
"They can protect me in this way?" The Prince was intrigued and rose from his seat. Rich robes rustled about the Prince Royal of Mandil as he studied Tory and me thoughtfully, a finger tapping his lips as he considered us. I was grateful that none of his wizard guards were with him—the High Commander had called the Prince's wizards away to investigate an attack on the military station. All of them were loyal to the High Commander, of course, and left when the High Commander asked.
We'd created the diversion the High Commander was investigating, blowing out a section of the western wall surrounding the military facility. Ry had used just enough power to make the rogue wizards believe their current opposition was behind the attack—a few of the lesser-talented wizards still opposed the High Commander and his cronies. The High Commander had fooled the citizens, but other wizards were not so easily taken in.
"The boy will not be so easily noticed by the others," the Prince had stopped pacing and was now eyeing me carefully. I prayed he wouldn't see me as female.
"No, my Prince. He is quite useful, too. He can run errands and carry messages for you—he has experience in this area, along with toting sums. I understand he also has good cooking skills." Bel flashed a smile in my direction. I wanted to kick his shins.
"So, a late-night meal might be had, should one be required?" The Prince sat down, still keeping his eyes on me.
"The taller one can serve as a bodyguard to me and the others," Bel bowed slightly. "The wizard we will keep among us—he will stand in for Pell, who needs to go home to his wife. She is about to birth her first any day."
"Will the disguises hold?"
"Certainly, my Prince."
"Then it will be so. Boy, come. You will carry messages for me this afternoon." The Prince snapped his fingers at me. I went.
"Where did that come from?" There was no mistaking the contempt in his voice as the rogue wizard looked me over. The Prince's wizards had returned after checking the hole blown in the wall. At least one wizard was instructed to stay with the Prince at all times, unless the High Commander pulled him away. It was a ruse, to make the Prince believe he was being guarded. Neither the Prince nor I were fooled.
"I needed a boy to run messages and cook for me late at night when I am hungry," the Prince snapped. "It is such a chore to have my cook awakened when it is late."
"That is certainly true," the wizard agreed.
"I can only imagine that he will cook for my wizards as well." The Prince examined his fingernails. "Boy, send for my valet." He made a bored, shooing motion with his hands. If he were acting, he deserved an award, I think.
"Yes, my Prince." I bowed low, as required of one with little or no status.
"Scurry," the Prince waved a finger. I scurried.
"As required, my Prince." I'd brought the valet, who seemed less than enthusiastic.
"My nails need work, Alvis," the Prince held out a hand.
"I will see to it," Alvis settled next to the Prince, lifted a kit from a deep pocket inside his black robes and set to work. Alvis was used to this sort of thing, it appeared.
"If you do not need me," the wizard bowed slightly to the Prince Royal.
"No," the Prince sighed. "Feel free to amuse yourself." The wizard, dressed just as richly as the Prince, left the room quickly.
"Alvis, this one can shield us," the Prince grabbed my arm with his free hand and dragged me to his side. "How large is your shield, boy?" The Prince hissed.
"Fourteen hands or so, in every direction," I said, nearly breathless with shock.
"Enough for all of us, if needed," Alvis kept his head down, trimming the Prince's nails carefully.
"We just need warning before they make their attempt," the Prince muttered angrily. "Bel will do his best, as will the others, but we are treading dangerous ground, my friend."
"Your father would have died quickly, had he faced this," Alvis agreed softly. "He would have attacked these traitors and they would have killed him immediately. We must lower our heads to them, making them think we are feeble sheep."
"They are taking credit for destroying our enemy in the desert, when it was Bel and his Rangers who performed that magic for us," the Prince huffed. "Does the High Commander think I do not see through his lies?"
"His wizards are lazy," Alvis nodded. "They have talent, yes. They do not have the stamina for the long road."
"Boy, what is your name?" The Prince turned to me.
"They call me Re," I replied.
"Re, this is Alvis, who once advised my father, the Prince Royal before me. Now he advises me, disguised as my valet. We have been setting ourselves against the High Commander and his drug-trafficking thieves for a long while, now. It is my hope that we win this battle, else we may all be dead and the High Commander will dance upon our graves."
"My Prince, I will work to see that does not happen." I bowed to him.
"Boy, I hope your shield works, we may have need of it," Alvis murmured without lifting his eyes from his task.
"Some of the old wizards are attacking the fields in the desert—I want you to go out and take care of that problem." The High Commander handed Bel his new assignment.
"Shouldn't be difficult," Bel replied casually. "Get your things together," he ordered the Rangers. Tory, too, lifted a pack to his shoulder.
"Where did that one come from?" The High Commander gestured toward Tory. He'd skipped right past Ry, who now resembled the absent Pell.
"Bodyguard—good with shields," Bel said. "Not much good with other spells, though."
"Good enough." The High Commander just wanted Bel and his Rangers to take care of the problem he was encountering in the desert—they were losing crops and it was nearing time for the harvest. If the few remaining wild wizards kept attacking the fields, the workers he'd sent out to tend the crops wouldn't go out to pick. They'd be too frightened. The High Commander needed as much drakus seed as he could raise. Their recent encounter with an unexpected enemy had devastated some of his fields. Sweeping aside his black robes, the High Commander stalked out of the meeting room, leaving Bel and the others to tend to business.