The Fairest Thing Chapter 3

The Fairest Thing: Chapter 3
Balthazar went again to the magic mirror. A small dome of polished obsidian, it was from an unknown country and of unknown age. On the back was etched a strangely stylized bull and leopard. He had taken it from a rival wizard, who claimed he'd gotten it from an ancient tomb far to the north. Not that he cared much about the mirror's true origin. The mirror showed visions of strange places and people. It had amazing power, power wasted by the mirror's late previous owner. Balthazar did not know if he was seeing the future, the past, or even other realms. Whatever he was seeing, it fascinated him. He told his servants not to let anyone disturb him for any reason, sprinkled some heady incense over a glowing censer, and relaxed on his couch with the mirror in his hands. One had to allow the mirror to show its wonders; it could not be forced, though Balthazar had certainly tried. The black surface shined, slightly cloudy beneath the surface. Slowly, the clouds began to move, then parted, revealing murky figures. Balthazar saw a nation of people, all with skin the color of copper, dressed in bright feathers and covered in green gemstones, at some kind of tournament in a sun-drenched city. The language they spoke, like the lush landscape, was completely foreign. Men in heavy leather armor bounced a ball in a stone courtyard while the nobles (assuming that's who they were) fanned themselves in alien luxury. Balthazar watched the game fascinated by the jewels and beautiful furs they wore. After a while, one of the players managed to bump the ball through a stone ring high in the wall. The champion was treated with much fanfare, led to another courtyard and given a ceremony of some type, which culminated in the champion being beheaded by a man in an elaborate feathered crown that Balthazar guessed was a king or lord of some type. What would happen next? The mirror's sheen began to shift again. This new place was very different from the painted courtyard where the feather-crowned people held their tournament. It was wet, muddy, and dreary. Splintered stumps jutted from the mud where trees once stood, and twisted rubble marked the remains of towns, houses, and castles. Instead of lush forests, the countryside was crisscrossed with crude ditches and holes. Balthazar had seen this place before. It was one of the most fascinating worlds the mirror showed him. It was like a twisted version of his own. The thorny vines that stretched across the ditches were actually made of metal, and the thunder in the background was caused not by storms but by explosions the people of this world made using their alchemy. A group of men marched on half submerged boards through one of the filthy ditches, carrying strange crooked lances, accompanied by a dog and a mule pulling a cart covered in a tarp. They were all dressed alike, and seemed to be soldiers, though the only armor they wore were metal helmets. A whistle and pop sounded nearby. The dog began barking wildly, and suddenly a yellow fog drifted into the ditch. The men panicked, taking out masks and putting them on themselves and also on the dog and mule. They all resembled insects wearing them, even the animals. What was in that fog? One of the men did not get his mask on quickly enough, and began coughing and struggling surrounded by the yellow fog, almost as if he were drowning. It was horrifying to watch; the masked men came to his aid, but the man was apparently too far gone to be helped. They put him in the cart and continued their journey as the vision faded. Balthazar had deduced that he was watching some kind of war, one that caused tremendous suffering. The wealthy wizard put the mirror down and picked up the quill and parchment he kept handy every time he used the mirror. These notes he took would come in useful when he sat down in his laboratory to try and replicate what he saw. He had limited success so far, but if he succeeded in duplicating the things he saw, he would be unstoppable in becoming even more feared among his peers. He had already managed to replace the hand of a rogue prince using an idea he saw in the mirror. He had to give up one of his best gems to do so, but as insurance, he made it so the gem enslaved the prince to him. Lothar was not exactly happy about the arrangement, but seeing as how he didn't die thanks to the procedure, he had little to complain about as far as Balthazar was concerned. With less than a week before the adoubement, guests had begun to arrive, though conspicuously not Sir Edelhart. He had been reclusive and prone to going on lengthy quests since his wife had died, but this was not an event he would miss; Johan was his only child. The King decided not to mention anything to Johan yet. He didn't want to worry the boy right before such an important day; Johan was busy enough preparing for the ceremonies. Besides, he had his other guests to be a good host to. Two days before the adoubement a messenger finally arrived from Edelhardt's manor bearing a crumpled ransom note. Written in a northern dialect, it came from a group calling themselves the "Brothers of Equality" and it was delivered shortly after Edelhart had sent his own message saying he had set sail for Hauvon via a nearby port city. The letter claimed they had captured the knight, and wanted food and provisions, as well as arms and armor in exchange for his safe release. "Hmm, I've heard of these "Brothers of Equality," said Princess Francesca, who had come with Gerard to look at the note in the Pepin's study. She gathered her long blonde hair away from her face as she looked down at the note. It fell back over her shoulders almost immediately. "Really?" Both the King and Gerard looked surprised. Francesca's father was very wealthy and if Francesca had one fault, it was that she was spoiled and sheltered. What could she possibly know about kidnappers?  "They are pirates on the north coast. They hide in the marshes where nobody goes unless they have to, and strike the ships as they come up the rivers into inland harbors. I've heard stories that the marshes where they hide are haunted, but I've never been there, obviously. It's far too dangerous, and father would never allow it. Most of what I know I know from overhearing Father complain about the Brothers raiding his ships. There are quite a few nobles on the coast who would love to capture them." "Well, we're certainly not going to arm a bunch of pirates, but we need to get Sir Edelhart back as soon as possible," said Gerard thoughtfully. The king was less stoic.  "This is terrible! We have this wizard Balthazar threatening war on our border, and now pirates are kidnapping Landed Knights! And Johan's father of all people! We have to do something!" Sabina and Barbara gave Francesca a tour of the castle and grounds while the King and Gerard attended to some important matter that just came up. In theory the two princesses should have gotten along splendidly, but in actuality they had very little in common. Sabina was interested in what adventures and brushes with danger her future cousin-in-law had experienced, only to learn that she'd never had any. Francesca spent her childhood being educated in a convent, and following that was kept blissfully under lock and key in her father's castle. Both of her parents still lived, and her father's kingdom was fabulously wealthy. It seemed nothing bad had ever happened to her.   Dame Barbara was much impressed by Francesca's manners and bearing. Though Sabina did not envy such a sheltered life, she did feel a twinge of jealousy at this pretty blonde girl who could be a true proper princess with so little effort, bound for a mutually loving marriage to her cousin, who was as kind as the day was long. Francesca on the other hand, was enchanted by Sabina's tales of being kidnapped and rescued on several occasions. How boring her life must seem by comparison!