“What’s he doing?” he whispered.

“He’s predicting our future in battle against Leona.” Shardea whispered back. “He foresees what will happen, and we make our plans based on that.”

“Fascinating.” They fell quiet. Sully stayed still, unflinching. Suddenly a cold wind whipped through the room and the white candle wax dripped red from the candles like blood. Sully shivered and opened his eyes.

“My vision is complete,” he said. “And it’s not good. An assassin will be sent here. He wishes death to one, but it will bring blood to the entire kingdom. War with Leona as a result is inevitable.” Memnon and Shardea exchanged a glance.

“An assassin?” Memnon was in disbelief. “Do you know who the target is?” Sully shook his head.

“That I cannot see,” he said. “If I could there wouldn’t be a problem.”

That night, Leona Morgan woke with a start after having had a psychic vision of her sister’s little twit of a sorcerer ratting out her entire plan. Rarely did these visions come, but she’d had one nonetheless. She knew the only thing to do was silence the little fool before he revealed too much. Sully was a much stronger diviner than she, and he had to be stopped.

“Sweet Sully, do you think you can foil me?” she muttered aloud as she searched for her massive spell book. “We shall see about that.” She opened the book to the spell she was looking for. “Ah, here we are. ‘Death by Nightmares.’” She laughed evilly. “Sleep well, sorcerer. You shall not live through the next day if you live through the night at all.”

******

Memnon was giving Thorak the latest orders the next morning when Shardea came in, refreshed from a long sleep.

“Good morning,” she chirped. “How are you this morning my good lord?”

“Hm,” Memnon quirked an eyebrow. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” replied Shardea innocently. Memnon smirked.

“Your highness,” one of Shardea’s guards entered. “Your sorcerer is ill. He wishes to see you at once.” Shardea glanced at Memnon, who shrugged.

“Tell Sully I’ll be there shortly,” she said. The guard went swiftly away. Shardea gave Memnon a look. “Can I have a word with you?” Memnon nodded.

“You heard the lady,” he said. “Everyone leave.” When they were alone, Memnon asked, “is something wrong?”

“I know my sorcerer doesn’t just fall ill for no good reason,” Shardea said in a low voice. “I have a good idea who’s behind this.”

“Leona?” asked Memnon. Shardea nodded gravely.

“Sully is the only one who can tell us. He can sense her magic traces.”

“Then we must go,” said Memnon. “I’ll go with you.” With that they set off to check on Sully.

When they slipped into Sully’s room, the scent of healing incense was overpowering. A sole candle burned by the bed. Shardea rushed to Sully’s side. He was horribly pale, and he looked half-dead as it was. Shardea took his hand.

“Sully?” His hand was cold and clammy. He fought to open his eyes.

“Leona,” he gasped out. “Leona did this. No one is safe. No one…” His eyes closed again. “This is my prophecy, I am to die by her hand.”

“No, Sully” Shardea’s voice wavered. “Sully…” Suddenly she felt a strong hand grip her shoulder. She turned, only to see Memnon standing behind her.

“He needs to rest,” he whispered. “It’s best you leave him be.”

“Resolve your conflicts,” Sully whispered. “Hear me, Memnon. You are strong enough to save our kingdom. You are our only hope. Beware the assassin, for if you do not reconcile, the end will come for both of you. ” He sighed and drifted from consciousness. Shardea and Memnon exchanged a glance.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” asked Memnon.

“I think we need to talk,” said Shardea. “Will you go for a walk with me?”

“Gladly.”

******

Shardea and Memnon found themselves walking along the riverbank in the forest beyond Shardea’s palace. When Shardea found a shady place, she sat. Memnon followed suit. “So, Sully is psychic? He sees things exactly as they are, before they happen?”

“He sees things as they will happen, but some things are left out. As he said, an assassin will come, but we don’t know for whom he will come. It could be for you, or for me. Either way we must be on guard.”

“One thing, my lady, has puzzled me from the beginning.” said Memnon. “If you so despised me from the start, why did you not kill me?”

“I don’t despise you,” replied Shardea. “It’s complicated. I can’t explain.”

“You fear I would not understand?”

“You would not.”

“I understand more than you know,” said Memnon. Before Shardea could reply, his lips met hers in a hard, unexpectedly passionate kiss. As abruptly as it had begun, Memnon stopped it. “Forgive me, for my heart surrenders my mind, and I can’t control myself. When I came here, I honestly intended to kill you. I don’t know that I would have, as beautiful as you are. But one thing’s for sure. I came with plans of conquering. I never planned on losing my heart to you.”

“Oh, Memnon,” sighed Shardea. “From the moment I laid eyes on you I swore I’d hate you for laying siege to my kingdom.” She caressed his cheek. “But instead you’ve lain siege to my heart, and my body betrays me every step of the way when I remind myself of what you’ve done.”

“I drive myself not to harm you,” he said softly. “I swear.” His hand found her cheek and they kissed again, more feverishly this time. When they broke off, Memnon took Shardea in his arms and held her close to him. “No assassin shall touch you. I swear it upon my heart.”

“Then I shall swear my heart upon yours so we may fight together.” Her eyes met Memnon’s, and she found them a warmer blue than at first. No longer was he cold and unfeeling. It was a change Shardea never thought she’d see.

Back in Agora…

“What news?” asked Leona. “Have you located king Memnon?”

“I have,” replied the spy. “Following your sister’s blunder, Memnon laid siege to the kingdom of Avonlea, and he now has control over the province. From what I hear, she doesn’t care for his policies.” Leona laughed with scorn.

“Perhaps he’ll kill her before we kill him, and then they’ll both be dead. That will make our job easier, though I’ll get less satisfaction out of burning her little witch of a sorcerer.” She glanced up at her guard. “Bring in the assassin.” Here, a tall, lanky youth was led in. A cocky smirk crossed his face.

“Just give me the order.”

“You are to go swiftly to Avonlea and kill lord Memnon. I care not how, just so long as it is done and he is dead and out of my way. If you fail, you die. Understood?” The assassin nodded. “Good, now go, perform your duties.” With a sigh, she went to her window and looked out over her torture field behind her palace. Bodies hung from the gallows, and there appeared to be a fresh batch on the burning stakes. As she heard the screams of anguish, she smiled. “As is your fate, my sister,” she murmured.

A day passed with no word from the supposed assassin. Shardea was still on guard. She knew about how long it took one to reach Avonlea from Agora traveling on foot. It took about a day and a night. The assassin could arrive at any time, depending on what time he was sent off by Leona.

That morning when she went in to check on Sully, she was surprised to find him awake and looking less deathly than he had before. His trademark worried look was present on his face.

“You look better,” noted Shardea. “Are you well?”

“Not completely,” said Sully. “I’m warding off my sickness. If it were not for the severity of the matter at hand, I would not be forcing myself so.”

“Oh?” said Shardea. “Pray tell?”

“The assassin is in your midst,” said Sully. “You must leave this place, if only for today. Your life is at stake.” Suddenly there was a clamor from downstairs, and an uproar of shouting.

“Intruder! Close the gates!” Shardea’s blood ran cold.

“Too late,” said Sully. “You need to get out of here. If they storm in here to kill you, the only way to escape is out that third story window.”

“What about you?” asked Shardea. Sully grinned.

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he said slyly. “Besides, it’s you they’re after, not me. Now go, go!” Shardea nodded and cast a glance back at Sully as she fled the room. As soon as she was out, she ran head on into Memnon.

“There’s been a breach,” he said. “Thorak is on it, but we haven’t found the intruder yet.”

“How’d they get in?” demanded Shardea. “I have six guards at my gates!”

“You had six guards,” corrected Memnon. “Apparently this was thought out, and the person knew your palace well. We found all six of them dead. They had skill, and I fear your assassin is still among us.” Shardea looked frightened. Memnon noticed it immediately without her having to say a word. “Fear not, my lady. We’ve sealed off the first and second floors with clearance only to the highest security officers. Even if the assassin were to find his way up here, he’d have to get through me to kill you.”

“Oh Memnon,” sighed Shardea. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“No need for that,” Memnon put his arms around Shardea. His hand found the back of her head and he kissed her gently, yet passionately at the same time. The moment was interrupted by Thorak’s entry.

“Pardon me, my lord,” he said. “We’ve captured the assassin.” Memnon smiled, his air of authority taking over once again.

“Excellent,” he said. “Let us inquisition this fool and find out his motive.” He winked at Shardea and set off downstairs with her and Thorak following closely behind.

When they arrived downstairs, they found the assailant tied to a chair, being held at spear point by four of Memnon’s guards. As Memnon approached the assassin, his eyes seemed to freeze over. “You,” he growled. “Who sent you?”

“Her highness queen Leona sent me,” replied the assassin. Memnon scoffed.

“If you were loyal you would not have told me that.”

“It matters not now,” said the assassin. “I have failed my mission and now she will kill me in the end anyway.”

“What motive have you to kill queen Shardea?” demanded Memnon.

“I would never lay a hand on the lady,” said the assassin. “It was you I came to kill.” When Memnon glanced back at Shardea, she looked horrified.

“Diarus,” she said thinly. The assassin nodded.

“What the blazes is going on here?” demanded Memnon.

“Diarus is the ex-captain of my palace guard,” elaborated Shardea. “He was until he was kidnapped by Leona and held hostage, and forced to turn against me or she would kill him.” Memnon looked unfazed.

“As touching as that story is, he still intended to kill me,” he said with a cold edge. “Luck is on your side,” he said. “Leona can’t kill you so long as you’re in the confines of the dungeon. Thorak, take him away.” Thorak and the guards dragged Diarus away. Shardea watched, a blank look on her face. Memnon reached out to touch her. “I’m sorry I had to do that in front of you,” he said. “I don’t want you to see who I really am.” Shardea smiled.

“You handled it well, milord,” she said. She leaned up to him and gave him a quick kiss. “Thank you for saving my life.” Memnon smiled.

“Think nothing of it, love,” he said. He gently kissed her hand. “Ah, I could stay here for eternities with you, but I think perhaps we should go check on Sully.”

“You’re right,” replied Shardea. They went down the hall to Sully’s quarter.
When they arrived there, they found Sully still capacitated, but very jittery.

“My sight is beginning to fail me,” he said. “Some evil is afoot, but I can’t place it. At any rate, there has been a consistent warning that has come to me in my dreams. I can see…nothing.”

“What warning have you heard?” asked Memnon cautiously, not sure of how to handle the psychic.

“A repeating message that plagues me, and I know not what it means,” Sully shook his head, bewildered. “It says: beware, mischief is about. Stone walls may keep evil in, but they can’t keep it out.” Memnon raised an eyebrow.

“I put someone in the dungeon today,” he said. “Would that have anything to do with your prophecy?” Sully shrugged helplessly.

“I know not, milord. I see nothing. No visions come to me now.” Shardea and Memnon exchanged a glance. Then Shardea reached out to stroke Sully’s hair.

“Don’t worry about that,” she said. “What matters is that you’re alive and doing well. Time provided you should regain your second sight.” Sully smiled.

“I suppose,” he said in a small voice. He sighed. Memnon and Shardea exchanged another glance.

The rest of the day passed quickly, what with all the business and rechecking battle plans and receiving messages and relaying them back. By the time night fell, Shardea was beaten down by the barrage. She was glad Memnon was there to help her out with the battle plans, because to tell the truth, she was mentally exhausted. Weakly, she made her way up the stairs, pausing to look in on the sleeping Sully. She continued down the hall until she heard a curious clanging noise coming from the guest room.

“What the?” she wondered aloud and eased the door open, peering in. What she saw was Memnon, both swords in hand, fiercely battling some invisible foe. She watched him in awe for a moment, as he was whirling and slashing beautifully and lethally at the same time. She stood and admired him for some time before finally making her presence known. “Bravo,” she spoke up as she ventured in the room. “You could hurt someone doing that, you know.” Memnon smiled and placed his swords by the bed.

“I know,” he said. “My mother always warned me not to play with sharp objects, and look where it got me. Now I’m a ruthless, blade-wielding warlord.” He smiled. “I was the best out of all six classes in my training in the army,” he said. “They told me I could one day be the greatest swordsman to ever live. Do you think I can?” Memnon sounded doubtful. Shardea’s hand brushed his cheek.

“You can be everything,” she said. “Because you are to me.” She let her arms come to rest around his neck. “That’s how you became king, by fighting for it?” Memnon nodded. Shardea frowned. “War doesn’t solve problems, milord.”

“No,” replied Memnon. “But I do. War is merely my tool.” Memnon snickered. “Listen to you and your ’war solves nothing’ theory. This coming from the woman who rather poorly tried to kill me?”

“Poorly?” demanded Shardea. “I think I could have taken you!”

“You could have, if you were aiming to kill the open air above my shoulder,” joked Memnon. Shardea rolled her eyes.

“All right, master swordsman,” she said. “What did I do wrong?”

“First of all you gave me room to escape,” said Memnon. “If you were going to kill me with a dagger, you’d want to make sure I couldn’t get out and counter on you and kill you. What you should do is put your hand on their back like so, and then stab your opponent.” Here, he mocked stabbing her In the heart.

“What if I were to throw myself at you to take you down?” asked Shardea mischievously. Memnon smirked.

“I’d love to see you try that,” he said.

“I’ll make you eat those words,” said Shardea. With that, she jumped on Memnon in an attempt to bring him down. Instead, he caught her and flipped her down on her back on the bed, landing on top of her. Shardea blushed. “Well is that’s my punishment, then maybe I should jump on you more often.”

“If you want me to jump on you, all you have to do is tell me when.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. She arched up against him.

“Milord, I do warn you, my virtues betray me because of you,” Shardea practically gasped. Memnon gently planted kisses down the side of her neck.

“I can stop if you want me to,” he whispered.

“No,” replied Shardea. “Please don’t.” Memnon continued kissing her neck, moving to her shoulder as he moved the strap of her gown off to the side. His hand strayed down her body, finding a spot on her and caressing it into aching need. “Memnon,” she sighed his name.

“Are you about this?” he asked her.

“I was sure about it the first time I laid eyes on you.” Their lips locked, and from there, Memnon proceeded to take Shardea.

That night as Shardea slept in Memnon’s arms, their bodies still tangled beneath the sheets like two lovers that had been together forever, she could swear she heard a noise, something like a thump, come from downstairs. She brushed it off as nothing and nestled deeper into Memnon’s arms again.