Arri- February 3, 2005

February 3, 2005
Dear Keish,

I expected that Master Ujifil would be pleased when I told him about healing the blacksmith, Master Karford. By that time I had come up with a brilliant idea to help pay my rent next year. I would heal the lungs of ex-smokers. I could heal one person every weekend. I only needed an idea of what to charge. But Master Ujifil wasn’t as excited as I was. Instead he was upset.
“Lady Arri,” he said, “I am happy that you were able to heal someone, but I am troubled by the fact that you did so without my supervision.”
“I didn’t know I needed supervision,” I said, dismayed, “why do I need supervision?”
“You are still an apprentice. Healing spells can be dangerous. What if something had gone wrong? What if you made a mistake in your diagnosis or your treatment?”
I hadn’t thought about it.
“I didn’t have supervision when I healed the boy fairy,” I protested, “Or pulled the smoke from Liop and Glory.”
“You healed the boy fairy under emergency circumstances,” explained Master Ujifil, “Obviously, I don’t expect you to stand by and do nothing in an emergency. However, healing the blacksmith was not an emergency. You should have referred him to me.”
“But I know how to pull smoke from lungs,” I protested, “I think I could learn healing faster than you are teaching me.”
“You are impulsive and unpracticed,” said Master Ujifil, “It takes time to become a competent healer, time and study. Your attention is divided in so many different directions right now that you can hardly be expected to progress. You are not ready to work as a healer.”
Master Ujifil would not change his mind. He commanded that I would not try to heal anyone myself without his permission and supervision unless it was an emergency. He said I was a small child trying to learn to balance on a tightrope before I learned to walk on the ground. I went home that evening so frustrated that I had no more appetite than Gretel. Emily had to clear away the plates virtually untouched, although Gretel tried valiantly to eat something. At my suggestion she took some rolls to bed with her. I spent the evening studying my anatomy book until I fell asleep.

February 4th
We had two letters from Imato today. The first letter came by regular post and had been written only a few days after he left. It took rather longer to reach us than it should have, probably because of the weather. I didn’t get to read it, because it was addressed to Gretel and she said most of it was sentimental things that wouldn’t interest me. So far the most excitement the division had seen was a blizzard that held them up for a day and was the reason Imato had time to write. He spent a long paragraph telling Gretel to be careful of her health and not spend too much time out in the Winter Festival if it was too cold.
“He knows,” Gretel groaned, “He knows and he never told me.”
“You don’t know that,” I said.
“Caden Viteri knew,” she continued, “and he’s almost a complete stranger. How is it I was the last to know?”
“Keish and Jace didn’t know,” I said, “The Prens didn’t know.”
“I think Lady Pren was just being kind. Are you sure Nysa didn’t know?”
Personally, I agreed with that, but I didn’t say so out loud.

The next letter came two hours later, carried by Express. This one was a response to Gretel’s letter sent the 28th, the day before our conversation on the morning of the Princes’ Joust. Imato’s division arrived at the border on the 30th, having been delayed a little by storms. As expected, the northern dessert is bitterly cold. They have already had more snow this year than any year that any of the natives can remember. Imato doesn’t know how anyone, even a troll, can consider fighting in these kinds of conditions. His division had not as of the date of the letter, February 1st, seen any action, and he was glad of that. He ended with admonitions for both of us to stay safe and warm and to send him word of any developments with your investigations of the gossip columns. I thought this was a good indication that he did not know about Gretel. He was still obsessing about the papers.
Gretel spent the rest of the evening starting, scribbling out, and wadding up unfinished letters containing her response.
“What can I say? How can I say it?”
“Well, it is good news,” I said, “He’s going to be happy to hear.” Nevertheless, I was glad I didn’t have to write the letter.
“Yes, but it’s not the sort of thing you write in a letter to your husband,” said Gretel, “it’s the sort of thing you tell him in person, in private.”
“I guess you could wait and surprise him when he comes back,” I said doubtfully.
Gretel looked horrified.
“No, I’ll write it,” she said, “If it takes all night, I’ll write it.”

There’s still no word about the capture of Bradford from the castle. I was supposed to be informed of any new developments. Beagan is recovering well from his injury. Mostly we’re all waiting anxiously for an explanation of all this.

February 5th
It did take all night, but Express was on her way with Imato’s letter this morning.

I received your letter today. It’s good to know your side of the story since it’s hard to tell sometimes whether or not Mendel is embellishing a story. Your account matches with Corey’s. The frustrating thing is that all I can add to it is that Bradford is still in custody and no one seems to know anything about it. I even tried sending a note to Lady Clara, but she responded that she and Duke Tulson are as much in the dark as we are. She did, however, suggest that the problem might come from the fact that the court magicians, one of whom is the King’s chief interrogator, are still recovering from their attempt to break through the identity protection spells on the Fly-by.
Taty and I went to visit Beagan today. He is rightfully proud of his injury and considers that it will probably leave a scar. He has received personal visits from both King Trunsle and Queen Elspeth to thank him for his bravery. For all his pride, there is a bit of humility in him too. He is certain that if Imato had been there that Bradford would have been caught much more quickly and without injury.
Mendel would like to congratulate Keaton on the red hair. However, he is not sure the blue face was an advisable fashion statement. At least it isn’t permanent.

February 7th
This morning I was sitting in my Elcaran history class and thinking that Master Imkell had been most thorough in his tutoring because I have yet to hear anything new from Dr. Klinkenborg. Class was less than half over when I heard someone entering from the back of the room. Dr. Klinkenborg stopped his lecture mid-sentence.
“May I help you?” he asked in surprise.
We all turned our eyes to see two knights standing in the doorway. I recognized Imato’s friend Sir Simon Wood, but the other knight was new to me.
“Pardon our interruption,” said Sir Simon’s companion, “but would you be willing to excuse Miss Etautca from class?” All eyes in the room turned to me. I felt the blood draining from my face. Imato…
“Of course,” the professor responded, eyebrows raised, “Miss Etautca, you may speak to me later to find out what you missed.”
I gathered my things and followed the soldiers outside.
“How’s Imato?” I asked Sir Simon the moment the classroom door closed behind us.
“He’s fine, Lady Arri. This isn’t about him,” said Sir Simon quickly. Relief washed over me.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Captain Stoddard would like to meet with you,” said the other knight.
“Why?” I’ve never the captain who took over after Father’s supposed death.
“We can’t say, but you’ll find out at the castle.”
“I’ll get Sprigs,” I turned toward the stables, but Sir Simon touched my shoulder lightly.
“Lady Arri,” he said apologetically, “we’re to escort you in a carriage.”
I stopped and looked at Sir Simon. He looked back steadily.
“Am I in trouble?” I asked. Why else wouldn’t they trust me to ride myself?
“Of course not, this is merely a precaution,” he answered.
My thoughts were all jumbled together on the way to the castle. I sat alone on my seat with the knights riding on either side. I could see them out the carriage windows. The problem was that I could think of a million reasons why someone at the castle might want to talk to me, and again no reasons at all. On the one hand, Imato was heavily involved in investigating the Fly-by, but he wasn’t available. You were instrumental, along with Beagan, Mendel, and Corey in stopping the assassination attempt on the queen. I have personal connections to all of you. Also, my father should be captain of the King’s Army. These were all good reasons. One the other hand, I had little direct involvement with your rescue of Queen Elspeth and Father still has amnesia, so what use could it possibly be to talk to me? I don’t know anything different from what you know, rather less.
Sir Simon and his companion, Sir Luwig, were not helpful. They escorted me to the military offices in the left tower without a word, except to pass on their regards to Beagan. They left me in a waiting room, not nearly as elaborate as the court waiting room, but nicely furnished. I didn’t have more than a couple minutes to admire it though before a page whisked me into the Captain’s office.
I knew that room. Somewhat dark, stone walls hung with heavy, plain rugs to muffle sound. The windows were two long narrow slits. It was Father’s office years ago. He used green rugs on the walls. This captain used beige. I liked green better.
“Welcome, Lady Arri,” he said, standing and bowing, “I’m sorry to interrupt your classes. Please, have a seat. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” I said nervously. I looked around the room, taking in the similarities and differences from my childhood. Captain Stoddard waited. When I finally looked back at him, his eyes were sad.
“Shall we get to business?” he asked softly.
I nodded. The room was making me uncomfortable. I wanted out of it.
“It seems that January 30th was a very busy day,” began the captain, “in addition to the attack on the Queen, there were two attempted burglaries and an attempted abduction.”
I blinked in surprise. He was watching me closely.
“The first happened just as the joust was beginning. Two men of unknown identity used magic to enter the Rousha Mental home unobserved. They attempted a de-capacitating spell on Sir Etautca, which backfired and rendered them unconscious.”
It took a minute for me to get past the shock.
“Someone wanted to kidnap Father? Is he all right?” I asked.
“It seems so,” said Captain Stoddard, shaking his head, “and your father’s fine. The spell did no damage that we can detect over what damage is already there.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I felt a pulse of anger, “You should have told me.”
“We didn’t let word out, because we wanted to conduct a quiet investigation into whether the events were related. We haven’t even informed King Menion.”
“Do you have the abdutors?”
“Yes, but they’re still unconscious. Master Ujifil and Madame Heinrich have been attempting to revive them.”
That reminded me. “How are the court magicians?” I asked.
“Master Senoj is completely recovered. The others are coming along nicely. Now, about the burglaries—“
“Who examined Father?” I interrupted, “Did Master Ujifil see him?”
“As I said,” the captain repeated gently and firmly, “your father was not harmed. Now the first burglary attempt was at the royal treasury.”
“Did you catch them?” I asked.
“No, but the ward made a record of the attempt. There were at least two people involved. Something to remember is that there is an attempted break in to something on the castle grounds during the Princes’ Joust every year. Thieves assume that everyone is distracted by the competition. This attempt was sophisticated, but we’ve actually seen better attempts.”
I frowned.
“The second break in was also nothing unusual. It was an attempt on the Central Rousha Bank.” He was getting to the point now. I could see the captain’s eyes shining with interest. “We didn’t think anything of it until early this morning, when Master Senoj’s interrogation of Bradford finally got a couple sentences out of him.”
“Did they catch those thieves?” I asked.
“They were killed in the attempt.” He frowned unhappily.
“Wow,” I said, “you kept a lot quiet.”
“We put a glamor over the bank,” said Captain Stoddard, looking slightly pleased, “Now about those hard-won sentences. They go like this:
“Master Ujifil asked Bradford why he attacked the queen. He answered: ‘To cause chaos in the kingdom.’”
“Master Ujifil asked why Bradford wanted to cause chaos in the kingdom on that particular day. He answered: ‘To secure the theft.’”
“Which theft?” I asked.
“We don’t know,” sighed the captain, “In fact the attempted abduction of Sir Etautca could be defined as a theft. Bradford was from Greste, and the treasury contains several valuable objects won from Greste during war. It has also been pointed out that the bank robbery was the same bank where the Etautca estate is kept.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Lady Arri,” said Captain Stoddard, “How familiar are you with the material part of the Etautca Estate?”
“Very,” I said, remembering Imato and my meeting with the financial advisor.
“Tell me, are there any artifacts among your father’s belonging. Something he may have won in battle? Perhaps in battle with Greste?”
“No,” I said.
“Any powerful magical artifact? Of course, we know that you have the Brio Chronicle, but I doubt a thief would have expected to find it in the bank.”
“No, the only unusual magical artifact was the Chronicle as you said, and that was given to Uncle W. to give to me when I was ready for it.”
“Could they have been after the Chronicle?” asked Captain Stoddard.
I thought about that.
“I guess,” I said, but it sounded wrong. I can’t explain why, but I don’t think it’s the Chronicle. I doubt it would work for someone who obtained it wrongly. I said so to the captain.
He nodded. “I feel that way about it too.”

Bradford is still in custody. He is demanding to be released. He claims to have no memory of attempting to assassinate the Queen and that he is being persecuted because of his nationality. His indignant and offended attitude doesn’t help his cause much. No one believes him. However, he has no memory of the two sentences that Master Senoj’s interrogation spell forced him to utter.
Any or none of these events could be related. Captain Stoddard has written to Imato asking him the same questions. I wanted him to say that he would send for Imato, but he didn’t, and I know better than to ask. Imato is a soldier by choice. I’ve no right to bring him home just because I’m worried about him.
Captain Stoddard says that they have now reached a point in the investigation where they are ready to bring in outside sources. A letter is being sent to King Menion. He was not immediately informed, because the captain wanted to feel sure that he wasn’t trying to “blame mayflies for the weather,” as he put it, when in reality they were just taking advantage of the circumstances. He feels confident now, however, that Bradford was not acting alone and that at least the attempted abduction of my father was not coincidence.
I wish Imato could come home and put wards on the mental home. Captain Stoddard assures me that there is a constant guard keeping watch. I said that I hadn’t noticed a guard.
“You won’t notice them,” said Captain Stoddard proudly, “Their intention is to allow a second abduction attempt to take place. We want to catch these people, not frighten them away.”
I’d rather frighten them away, personally.

February 8th
Despite all the chaos of the last couple of weeks, I managed to survive my mid-terms. I didn’t make the honor roll again. Winter term is hard. Even Gordo didn’t do as well as he expected, although his grades were still close to the top of the list. He is disturbed by the fact that Liop is going to visit you during finals and can’t help his study Iconese during that time. Mendel says it’s good for Gordo to finally have a class that isn’t easy. Mendel’s grades were almost as high as Gordo’s this time.
It seems to me like the term only just started and already we are preparing for finals in March. Dr. Klinkenborg told us all to take deep breaths and remember that Spring Term will be easier, less condensed. I sure hope he’s right.

I’m going to send this letter now, since I’m sure you’re waiting anxiously for news about what happened during the Princes’ Joust. Hardly anyone outside out us even knows that something went wrong.
Give my love to everyone. Gretel received the letter of apology from Caden. She sends lots of thanks for the ginger, which is a traditional Nèahm spice that she doesn’t get very often. Liop, Nysa, and Taty are so excited to come visit! Liop is already counting down the days.

Love,
Arri

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