Theo stretched his wings wide, gliding high over Eagle Lake. He begrudgingly admitted that the view was spectacular from this height. It wasn't the capital, with its massive city on the peninsula, surrounded by sea on three sides. This was the middle of nowhere, really, but it had a certain rugged beauty.

Far below, he spotted a school of fish beneath the lake's surface. He dove, pulling up just before his hulking dragon form met the surface. His heartbeat accelerated and his thoughts scattered. His talons skimmed along the surface, splitting the water like a ruptured seam.

A gush of wind brushed against his scales. He turned his massive golden head in time to see Amil gliding beside him. Far above, keeping watch over their backs, were Fallon, Idris, and Xander. He'd brought four other drengr with him, the only four he trusted. Some day, he would make them his shields, even if they pretended they already were.

Not that he liked thinking about it. He didn't want to think about being king. There'd be centuries before that might happen. His parents were middle aged. Most drengr lived to be nearly a thousand years old, some a little longer, if their health didn't decline too rapidly in old age.

"I can see the city, due north." Amil's voice sounded in his mind, his words broadcast to everyone in their group. The anatomy of a dragon's mouth didn't allow for audible speech. They could growl and make all sorts of ferocious sounds. But they couldn't form words. Instead, they used telepathy, a handy trick both in dragon and human form.

"It's...bigger than I imagined," he admitted. The city of Woodport materialized on the far shore of the lake. Behind it, as far as the eye could see, clusters of forests. He scanned the shores of the lake and noticed other settlements, smaller, dotting the large body of water.

From above, a throaty bellow split the air, and then another, and another. Fallon, Idris, and Xander were announcing their arrival. They could have simply appeared in the lord's city, at his castle, but it was more polite to announce themselves. He didn't much care about being polite, generally. But it would be good to make a the right impression if he'd be working with Lord Lasker for the next few weeks.

There hadn't been time to send written word. Letters traveled slower than dragon wings. But the king had used the chain of drengr communication to get word to Fort Squall. Woodport was in their territory, after all.

They descended towards the city. He spotted the castle immediately, a hulking edifice of gray stone and wood. A mishmash of both. Below, people began to shout and point. A grin split his draconic lips. Maybe they recognized him. His golden scales would tell them exactly who he was.

He descended, his four following in his wake. As he neared the castle's courtyard, he shifted midair and plummeted the remaining distance, landing gracefully on human feet. The servants in the courtyard scattered, gasping and running for cover.

He grunted, adjusting to the feel of land. It always took him a moment.

Most of the activity in the courtyard had stopped. Behind him, there came the thudding of feet as his four companions landed. He lifted an arm to pick at his sleeve, affecting an air of boredom, and simply stood there waiting. The others did the same.

A minute passed, then two, then three. Finally, a man emerged and rushed forward. "Your Highness! We were not expecting you so soon. Welcome. Welcome!"

"And you are?"

"Oh. Forgive me, Your Highness. Arden, sir—Your Highness. At your service."

"What is your rank and occupation. I was told I'd be meeting Lord Lasker."

"Arden, I'll handle this. You can go." A young man casually strolled from a nearby corridor. His finery was unmistakable. Arden must have been one of the higher positioned servants, or a steward, perhaps? This young man was assuredly nobility, and not much younger than him. Early twenties?

Theo lifted a brow at the newcomer, waiting.

"Forgive Arden, Your Highness. He gets overly excited and tends to stammer when he's nervous."

"He sounded fine to me, aside from taking too long to explain himself."

His words seemed to throw off the young man, who cleared his throat and said, "Right. I'm Lord Lasker's son. Torin."

"I wasn't aware Lord Lasker had a son."

"He's got two."

"Two, Your Highness," Amil said, stepping forward. "You will address the prince appropriately when you speak to him."

He did nothing to affirm or contradict Amil's words. It was technically proper. It also made him look like a pompous ass, when he didn't bother stepping in. He didn't mind that either. In fact, he preferred it that way.

"Of course. Two, Your Highness. My younger brother, Soren."

"Very well." He tried to disguise his irritation. No one had informed him of this. But that wasn't what really irked him. Lord Lasker's inability to handle his own political matters, when he had two sons and guards aplenty, was inexcusable. Now, here he was, forced to fix someone else's problems when he could have been home, enjoying himself.

He cleared his throat. "My father has already informed yours of my impending arrival. I'd rather meet with him sooner than later. Let's get this unfortunate business over, shall we?"

"Yes, of course. My father will be pleased about your eagerness. He, too, is also keen to be done with this matter. Your Highness." The title was added as an afterthought. Intentionally. Theo tried not to let his lips twitch. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you into the keep."

They were led inside, through a series of corridors. He kept his gaze in constant motion, looking over everything. His four stayed close on his heels.

They passed a cluster of finely dressed women. He caught the gaze of a fair haired lass and grinned. "My lady," he said, filling his voice with warmth and obvious interest. She blushed, then averted her eyes. Perhaps he might see her at the evening meal. The north might not be so bad if there were pretty girls to fill his hours when he wasn't hunting down rebellion members and throwing them in the lord's dungeons. Or...whatever it was that he'd need to do. Truthfully, he hadn't given it much thought...yet.

Behind him, a chuckle sounded.

"Don't say a word," he shot back to Xander.

"Why should I, when you already know what I'm going to say?"

"And what might that be?" he asked.

"That it doesn't matter where you are, you'll always be the biggest flirt in the kingdom."

A laugh burst from his lips. Torin's steps faltered. "Is...is something amusing, Your Highness?" As he spoke, the lordling lifted a brow in challenge. He wouldn't have heard the silent conversation that had just taken place.

"Oh, yes," Theo explained. "My companion was just telling me that I am the biggest flirt in all the kingdom."

"Ah. I've heard much the same." Torin grinned.

"My reputation precedes me?" Theo placed a hand over his heart in mock disbelief. Inside, he was preening. Hard to say what kind of news bled this far north. It was the middle of nowhere, after all. Then again, to him, anything that wasn't the capital or a fort city, felt like the middle of nowhere.

"Indeed. Every father in the city of has warned their daughters to steer clear of you. Some of them are under lock and key, forbidden from venturing out of doors, for fear that their virtue might be ruined by the infamous Prince Theodred the Gold."

"You mean, my odds at catching the eye of a sweet lass are going to be more difficult here in the north?" He infused mock surprise into the question.

Torin smirked. "Probably not. You're a prince. Though, my odds probably just got a lot harder with you around."

"Hmm. Do I detect a hint of jealousy?"

"Well...it's hard to compete with a prince, is all I'm saying, Your Highness."

Theo laughed, his chest rumbling loudly, the sound filling the corridor. Several servants nearby stopped to gape, then whispered as they rushed off. Theo casually slung his arm around Torin's shoulders. "You know? I think I like you, lordling. You remind me of the friends I invite to my parties."

"Oh! We've heard all about those, too. We might be much farther north, but news pamphlets still reach our hands."

"Do they really?" He acted intrigued.

Behind him, Amil scoffed. He knew it was Amil because no one could scoff as grandly. He ignored it.

"If you'd like, I'd be happy to assist you in hosting whatever parties you like, while you're here."

Theo faltered, his heart kicking up a notch. "Is that so?" Torin shrugged, but he couldn't quite hide the eagerness in the motion. "I might just take you up on that. Perhaps you can introduce me to all the best northern wines...and the northern girls."

"It would be my honor."

Again, Amil scoffed. If he were anyone else, there might have been hell to pay. But Amil, like his other four, were allowed certain privileges in his presence, including, but especially, honesty. He never wanted them to leash themselves around him. They were, perhaps, the only genuine people he had for friends.

Their group stopped before a heavy wooden door, intricately carved. He took a moment to admire the craftsmanship. Woodport was known for its export of wood, so it made sense that all the wood he saw here was expertly crafted.

Torin knocked.

"Enter," came the voice within.

Torin led them into a study. There was a heavy wood desk, stained dark, a set of book shelves, a small round table that seated four, and a wine cabinet. The walls held tasteful forest paintings, and a single, large window overlooked the city and the lake beyond.

The man at the desk immediately came to his feet, bowing. He, at least, had manners. "Your Highness! We were not expecting you for another two days."

Theo shrugged, striding across the room to take the chair across from the lord. "We made good time."

They'd flown with very little rest. He wanted this over as quickly as possible. What would have taken nearly two weeks at a leisure pace—because one did not fly over the Gable Forest, but went around—they'd done in a week. His four hadn't even questioned him on the matter.

They stood now, along the wall, with arms crossed, observing. He didn't bother to introduce them. Instead, he said, "I'd like a full debriefing on the issue."

"Now?" Lord Lasker's brows rose. "But surely, you'd like to rest."

"Now, my lord. Time is of the essence."

"Right. Of course, Your Highness." Lord Lasker took a seat at his desk, while his son took the second chair beside Theo. A map was procured, and Woodport's lord began pointing out the locations of his forests, the boundaries where they butted up to the Valahurst Forest, logging sites, as well as his saw mills, barge routes, and shipyard.

"These sites here were first to be targeted," he explained. "There weren't many deaths to begin, but the rebels have gotten more daring. Since then, they've hit our saw mill, our barges, and even sabotaged our logging efforts. I've had to pull in mercenaries just to adequately guard our people. Just last night, one of our barges was sabotaged. The lumber was stolen, the guards...the gods rest their souls, were all killed. Barge showed up empty after drifting down the river. Arrived just this morning. No sign of the oarsmen, nothing."

"Hmm..." Theo stroked his chin, felt the days old stubble there. "What measures have you taken to discourage such behavior?"

"I've made proclamations, all rebels and those associating with them are to be questioned and imprisoned. We've caught plenty of them, but they never crack. Not enough to get us what we need. What's worse, more simply spring up in their place."

"Have they made any demands? Is there a rhyme or reason to their madness?" This, from Fallon. He was ever the strategist. Theo clenched his jaw. It was a good question, one he hadn't thought to ask. He swept his irritation away, reminding himself that he didn't care.

"I won't reason with criminals," was the lord's response. "This must end. Our supply to the south is dwindling. If I cannot bring an about an end to this, the king—your father—isn't going to get the supplies he relies upon in the southern regions."

"It's troubling, indeed," he mused, affecting an air of concern. In truth, he didn't give a godsdamn about any of it. He was only here to end it through whatever means necessary. All the extras, all the politics behind it, didn't matter a steely to him.

"What of their leader?" Fallon asked, still standing near the wall.

"What of her?" Lord Lasker snapped, his irritation sudden.

Her? A woman? Theo perked up, though he tried to tell himself that was only because she was female and not because he was suddenly more curious than ever. A woman, leading a rebellion? He pushed the thought away and said, "You are addressing Fallon of Fort Kastali, who will some day be my shield. You will speak to him with respect. There's no need for your irritation, Lord Lasker."

"Of course. Forgive me, Fallon." Lord Lasker nodded towards the drengr then rubbed the back of his neck, ruefully. He was a man nearing the end of his middle age. Approaching fifty, perhaps? His beard was tightly trimmed, with streaks of silver, as was his dark brown hair. His eyes were, perhaps, his most unique quality. Like Torin's, they were a vivid blue.

"I do not have their leader's identity. If I did, this matter might be at an end. As it is, there are whisperings. They're calling her Lady Mask."

"Fascinating. You've given me a lot to think over."

"Of course. I'm sure you'd like to retire to your accommodations. The evening meal will be served at dusk. I look forward to speaking with you again. Torin will show you to your rooms."

He rose, eager to be free of Lord Lasker.

After Torin showed them to their rooms, the five of them congregated in his suite. He poured glasses of wine and they sat around the fireplace, digesting all that had been said. "I can see only one way forward," he decided at last. "Cut the head off the snake and the body will die, no?"

"I was thinking the same," Amil said.

"The lord wasn't entirely forthcoming," Fallon added. "He didn't fully answer my question."

"I'm aware. Regardless, if we find the rebellion's leader, put an end to her, the rebellion will surely fall. It can't be more than a handful of peasants armed with pitchforks."

Xander gave a mental snort. "I'd be happy to go hunting, if you would like?"

"I think we could all use a hunt," Idris said.

"You are my best warrior," he mused, looking Idris in the eye. "All right. A hunt then. Let's rest, and then I want the lot of you infiltrating the city. See what you can find. Figure out who this Lady Mask is, and where I can find her. While you're doing that, I'll dine with Lord Lasker as he wishes."

"Careful Theo," Amil said. "You're actually starting to sound like a princeling."

His blood cooled. That was the last thing he wanted. "I just want to be done with this, that's all."

And that was the truth, wasn't it? The sooner he put an end to this, the sooner he could go home. And that meant finding the rebellion's leader and putting a stop to her efforts. He'd deliver her directly into Lord Lasker's hands.

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