Tales of Vyscher Book 1

Chapter 9

Brellior lay back on his divan with his eyes closed. He tried to relax, yet inside he was silently fuming. He had been pampered all morning, first by the bathing girls and now by his personal groomers who were making his appearance as perfect as possible. How dare that bitch Victoria reject him? What right had she to burn his nose? He could feel one of the groomers, Angelica, applying some powder to the burn, trying to cover it up as much as possible.

The court healers had already done their best to make the scar go away, but it resisted all efforts to do so. Powders and makeup were his only choice. His hand whipped out to grasp Angelica's wrist, his eyes still shut. "It best not be visible when you're done, my dear," he whispered menacingly.

"Yes milord," she replied demurely. All of his staff knew the price for not keeping him well pleased. There had been enough bodies removed from his chamber over the years for that to be perfectly clear.

He winced as she plucked an unsightly hair from his nose. He liked that his attendants were fastidious, but he'd prefer them to learn some magic to aid them, though that seemed like a tall order. Remembering the magic that was flaunted in Vyscher, even in the streets, made him angry again, just when he was trying to be calm. It wasn't just Victoria; it was the whole family. They all were to blame!

"Kullin!" he called out to his manservant.

"Yes sir!" came the immediate response.

"Find Aldebaran, I am in need of his services."

"At once your highness!"

"Prince Brellior," came a strange voice, like a worm slithering through his ears. "I'm already here, and at your service."

Brellior sat upright immediately, pushing Angelica to the side. His newest bathing girl, Jentril, strode towards him, dropping the towel that covered her body. Instead of the lust that would normally fill him at that point, his body chilled as her skin rippled and sloughed off to the floor, revealing a long shadowy centipede-like form that was the length of his leg, with a bulbous humanoid head. None of the features were distinct, they were all wavering and constantly changing form and shape. But not the eyes. The eyes glittered like black diamonds. They stood out while all else shifted around them. Brellior couldn't hide the revulsion he felt from his expression. All of the other women in the room gasped and moved away from the creature.

"How long have you been here?" Brellior demanded, with a quaver in his voice.

"Oh, not long, just a week or two. How can I be of service to you?" Aldebaran giggled maniacally.

Brellior tried not to shudder, remembering just how many times and in how many ways Jentril had been of service to him over those last few weeks. "Vyscher, I want you to go there. I want the royal family to suffer. Make it happen."

"Of course, sire, I shall leave immediately!"

"And Aldebaran, never impersonate one of my staff again!" he yelled at the retreating form, scuttling across the ground.

"Of course, my liege!" came a cackling reply.

Brellior rushed over to a washing bowl, vomiting all the fine fruits and pastries that had been his breakfast.

Now he'd need to replace all his servants to prevent this story from spreading. It was too bad, he'd miss Angelica.

Hand in hand, Fehrys and Luce trudged up the last hill towards her parent's farm. Torple had dropped them off in the village half a day's walk away so that Luce could show Fehrys the sights, as well as pick up a few things for her parents. So now, burdened with an extra heavy blanket for the cold winters, a bag of salt for seasoning and few jugs of wine that Fehrys thought would be a good present for his first time meeting them, they made their way up the foothills.