Chapter Nineteen

From a completed epic fantasy novel told across two time periods.

Yara

Year 1378 (Present Day)

The chancellor, the professors, even the students were all a sad, yet comical mixture of aloof arrogance and pompous self-importance. They all spoke of lofty ideals, but they could not produce results. That was what happened when you lived on other people’s money, with no stipulations. Yara was glad the university would be gutted. It was a well-deserved fate.

With one victory behind her, it was time to focus on a potentially even greater one. She strode along the campus grounds, delighting in the quiet of the area, on her way to the building which housed the history department. That professor, Lydee, knew more about the missing man, her new target, the former professor, Woller. He had been an acquaintance of the Divine King’s many years ago, but Oslian had never held an audience with him during Yara’s tenure on the council. That itself was worth noting. It was typical for anyone with even the slightest connection to a ruler to ask for favors or attempt to exercise influence. Added to the fact that Oslian was shaken by Woller’s disappearance, Yara believed finding the man, and delivering him to Oslian, would lead to her being given the title of Grand Advisor. The position had been vacant for years, but Oslian had made it known that he was willing to fill it if he believed someone had earned that privilege.

Her agents had done preliminary research regarding the ex-university employee. Multiple sources said he had fled in shame after a romantic relationship with a student had been revealed. The woman had since graduated, and still lived in Oslidor. Yara had not wanted her questioned directly, believing subterfuge the best course for her investigation. Agents were currently watching her, but they had nothing of note to report. She had decided that she needed to take more personal control over the investigation.

As Yara entered Lorgan Hall, the aesthetic value of the university briefly entered her thoughts. Each individual building was an architectural feat, the limestone columns their distinguishing feature, but the way they were insulated from the heat of the city their true genius. The large hallways and high ceilings gave a visitor more relief from the constant sweltering conditions outside than even the palace did. When considered along with the library as a singular artistic work, it was startingly impressive. That it had been wasted so was worthy of punishment.

The professor’s office was closed, and through the window, Yara could see no one was present. That the professor was absent was for the best. Yara knew the woman would not be forthcoming with information, especially given the resentment she surely felt. Yara had intended to see if she could uncover more details without overtly mentioning Woller’s name, but she knew that would have been unlikely to provide much. The history professor could be an important source for Yara though. Her agents had reported that the two professors had been close friends. She took a key ring off her belt and unlocked the door.

The last time she had searched the room, it had been with a different purpose. This time, her first destination was the desk. Its drawers were immaculately organized, quill pens lined up evenly, inkwells securely placed. Yara debated making her presence known by rearranging things, but decided that it was best if the woman did not know a new search was underway.

After a thorough search, Yara concluded that there was nothing of value to her hunt in the office. Woller’s old office was converted into a storage room, so there will likely not be clues there either. His old house had been occupied since he left as well. This roadblock to her ultimate triumph was quite vexing. An intriguing idea formed in her mind. What if she were to make it clear that she was looking for Woller? His old friend may believe he was in danger. All Yara would have to do would be to have the professor followed. She smiled, then went back to the desk.

Freed from having to hide her intentions, she could go a more direct route. The former student, Fayvin, who was rumored to have been involved in a romantic relationship with Woller had made a mistake by staying in the city. She would have to pay her a visit.

The woman was employed as an accountant for a textile manufacturer. A position that could have been acquired without four years studying history and art. Her residence was situated in a middle-income Concord district in the north of the city, a section of the city in which Yara had never spent much time. From poverty to wealth in the blink of an eye. A lesson for others to learn from, though they would choose to ignore it, instead insisting it was luck. And that is why the people from my former life have achieved nothing.

Before striding up to the door of the row house, she quickly glanced back across the street. The three guards who had been tracking the young woman were standing in the shadow of an alcove from a building housing a corner store. She then put her hand in her pocket for a final check that her whistle was still there. She wondered if she would have to sound it, and what the fear in Fayvin’s face would look like when the guards came bounding in, armed and eager to inflict harm. Yara’s mouth showed the hint of a grin as she climbed the steps. Four loud knocks on the door. Sounds of movement from within.

The woman who opened the door was stunningly gorgeous, with unblemished skin and large, bright eyes. Yara immediately hated her. “Can I help you?” she asked.

“Indeed. My name is Yara and I am on the royal council. I have come to speak with you.” When the woman simply stood there dumbfounded, Yara reached into one of her pockets and presented a golden sigil of the royal house- a piece of solid gold in the form of the royal jewelry. The actual precious stone that Oslian wore was an amulet of violet and crimson, roughly the size of a large man’s fist, which appeared to shift in color depending on the angle from which one viewed it. The replica that Yara and the other councilmembers carried was only a fourth of that size, but it could not be mistaken for anything else.

Yara chose to sit in the first room on her right, in the largest chair. Fayvin came after her and sat across from her. “May I offer you a cup of tea?”

“I will pass,” Yara said. “I can tell that you have been unable to ascertain why a member of the royal council would visit you.” She looked at the beautiful young woman and saw how she wilted under the unrelenting gaze of someone more experienced and powerful. Yara was curious as to the reaction she would get from her next question. She waited a moment to allow herself to savor the anticipation. Then, she struck.

“When was the last time you spoke with Professor Woller Karuvian?”

Fayvin’s eyes widened. She tensed the grip between her hands and shut her eyes. Yara enjoyed her discomfort, especially because she had caused it.

“Two years ago.”

“When did you last receive a communication from him?”

More hesitation. Then, “Before he left.”

“Left?”

The former university student looked up, confused. “He left the university two years ago.”

“And never attempted to contact you?”

“No. Not that I am aware of.”

“Even though you were lovers? He left you to manage the scandal alone?”

The woman said nothing.

“One aspect of my role as a member of the royal council that I particularly enjoy is having the legal right to arrest anyone I deem suspicious. I have exercised that privilege before.”

Tears were now streaming down her Fayvin’s reddened face.

“He told you never to mention your illicit relationship. What do you think of the implication there? That you accept the consequences of what happened, while he escapes?”

“It… it is not what you think.”

“What do I think?”

“I can’t…”

“If not here, then in a dungeon. I assure you though, you will tell me everything I want to know.”

Yara reached into her pocket and removed the whistle. “Do you know what will happen when I blow this whistle? Three armed guards will break down your door and seize you. Then they will blindfold you and take you to a prison cell. I would prefer not to sound the alarm. Not for your sake, but because I want the information right now.”

Yara put the whistle in her mouth.

“There was no relationship!” Fayvin yelled. She sobbed in jerking spasms and wiped her runny nose, while Yara leaned back and took in the display.

Unexpected. But, I believe, the truth. Just as Oslian suspected. Which means, the man was hiding something even more damning. The question is, what does this woman know? Now that the lock has broken, we will see what it was concealing.

“A respected professor lied about having a relationship with a student, then disappeared without telling anyone. That sounds preposterous.”

Fayvin dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve, but the tears did not slow down. “It’s the truth. He asked me to spread a rumor. He said he needed me to do it.”

Yara leaned back in her chair. “Of course, that sounds so plausible.”

“I swear it! Please, I don’t want to be put in a cell! I promise I’m telling the truth!”

“Why would he want a lie to be spread about him?”

“All I know is that he said he needed to leave and that he did not want anyone to find him. He said it was necessary that he have a reason for running away.”

There is a certain genius to that. I am beginning to understand why Oslian fears this man. Though there is much more to this than his intelligence. Unfortunately, investigating Oslian’s history with the professor was not an option. The divine king would not tolerate anyone digging into his past.

“Why did you do this for him?”

“He was a good man. And…”

“He paid you?”

Fayvin nodded.

“Now, think carefully. What else did he tell you? I must know everything. You would not like keeping secrets from me.”

“That’s it! I swear it!”

“Very well.”

The whistle sounded.

Fayvin looked up, pure terror on her face. “What? But I told you everything!”

“Yes. I know. And I can’t have you doing the same for anyone else.”