Remnant of Power

Chapter One and Map

                                                                                           Yavenna

Princess Yavenna of Tarhasta kept as still as she possibly could. The tip of the Chief Minister's diamond-jewelled dagger pressed against the delicate skin under her chin. She waited in silence as he opened his mouth to speak.

"I.am shocked. To my very core." His breath, which smelt like rotten cheese left in a sewer, wafted over her mouth and nose. She actually tasted it. But she still didn't move.

"It would appear, Your Most Royal Highness, that I have caught you in an act of treason." He moved the point of the dagger to her throat. Her ice-blue eyes scanned the room behind him, desperately trying to find out if there were any guards in the room.

"Ha! And don't look for the royal guards to save you. They're loyal to your father, not to you."

The Princess' heart thudded against her ribs so loudly she thought the Chief Minister, her father's right-hand man, must surely be able to hear it. Actually, she wasn't looking for the guards to save her. She was trying to decide whether or not to attack the Minister. But if there were guards in the room she wasn't sure if she could fight them off as well. During the past year and a half, since sometime around her sixteenth birthday, for a reason she didn't know, she'd become suddenly stronger. In fact, strangely, worryingly stronger. And immensely faster.

"Ouch!" The dagger punctured her pale skin. Was he going to kill her right now? He was cruel, ambitious, a dangerous man to make an enemy of...

"Dear oh dear, oh dear," He tutted. "Your Highness, you should have been focussing your energies on preparing your country for the inevitable onslaught of the Plague Winds, not bothering yourself with the welfare of slaves in a neighbouring country. If our important and powerful ally, King Ulric of Arvad, finds out the King of Tarhasta's daughter has been funding a group that sends money and weapons to his slaves, we can expect only one thing. War."

Yavenna stared at him. Yes, she'd known it was a dangerous thing to do, her maid Sharva had warned her often enough. But when her best friend Marco told her how many people in Arvad had been enslaved by their king, kept in terrible conditions, and taken far away from their families, there was no way she could have refused to help. She'd helped to fund a group that rescued slaves from camps King Ulric had set up all across Arvad, and she'd secretly converted a distant castle that had stood empty for years into a refuge for sick slaves from Arvad. Their stories had been heart-breaking. She bit her lip. Someone had betrayed her. Who could it be? Did the Chief Minister know about the castle? If he asked her about it she didn't think she could lie well enough to hide what she knew. She had to distract him.

"Your Grace! How can you doubt that I've been helping to build up supplies to prepare for the Plague Winds? Everyone knows it was my idea to pipe water down from the mountains to grow crops in the desert lands!"

The Chief Minister, the Duke of Bonieza, an attractive man despite his putrid breath, chose not to reply. He gestured to a guard who was approaching them. A minute later Yavenna felt cold metal encircle her wrists and heard a small click as handcuffs snapped around them. The Duke withdrew the dagger and nodded so that the guard pushed the Princess in the stomach so hard that she spluttered and fell back into the red velvet armchair.

The Chief Minister began to pace around the room, the sound of his footsteps muffled by an enormous patterned rug. Yavenna held her breath, ignoring the soreness in her stomach.