Chapter 35

"It was nearly most curious how ardently Truth always found his way into the home of his destination, even against the tyrannical winds of injustice and the principalities of lies."

~

Lady Minerva's Chambers,

The Physician's Wing of the Imperial Castle,

Kingdom of Tristendyre,

The first Phrinight of the Second month,

XXI Year of Regency

The Royal Physician peered down to see a large messenger bird, carrying news from a foreign country. The lady unclasped the wet lattice and received the winged herald.

The majestic, large and blond bird that was a kin to falcons stood at the window of the room and spread its two pairs of wings: one larger and the one beneath of wingspan shorter. It flew into the chamber.

As Lady Minerva brushed her sleeve up and held her hand out, the bird rested its perch upon her undressed forearm and pleated its wings down, with a long tail wing that branched as a fern swaying behind.

"Altair, my dear thing, it's been so long since you've visited with words", she spoke like the falcon would comprehend.

Noctyn, who had almost belonged to her deceased apprentice, was a bird of like kind but differed in breed.

Altair purred and swished its head down and the Lady followed suit in unravelling the letter tied to its clawed paw.

As she collected the note, she considered how wonderfully these birds functioned: directing their flight by tail and gliding across the skies with their fore wings, preserving their bodies with the hind.

"I shall provide you with yogurt", offered the Physician, drawing a glass bottle that was in her room and pouring it into a shell-shaped bowl.

She placed it in the large cage that was kept beneath her table and filled the awaiting vials with minced grapes and chopped figs. She had reserved these for Noctyn, who had not yet arrived to meet.

It was mandatory practice for the bird to visit Imogen in the chambers, had they not already met in the gardens for dining.

And as per behaviour, Lady Minerva had expected the bird this evening, but the reserved food went into the meal of the unexpected guest, Altair.

The Physician seated herself at the desk of timber and began her study of the letter, removing the parchment from within the leather envelop that bore the seal of the Empire of Rustchin'mere's Royal Physician, Lord Cecil Urbane.

Now, this doctor from the distant land was of cordial companionship with Lady Minerva, dating back to their youth. They had been professed to the ministry of medicine under the governance of the same tutor: in the Regal Physician Training Academy.

After their years of education in the arts, it was natural with their prowess to have aced their ranks.

Qualifying in scholarly standards, they had been both chosen for royal service: Minerva by Lady Stachys of Kingdom Tristendyre and Sir Cecil Urbane, her friend (who was subsequently knighted Lord), by Lady Evander of the Kingdom of Rustchin'mere (now an Empire).

They had exchanged many a correspondence in counsels and consultancy during the early years of their apprenticeship and in such age, Minerva had grown endearingly close to the bird Altair.

She unfolded the letter, which had been first in a greatly long time, to read the contents:

"Dearest Minerva,

It has lapsed far too great a sum of years betwixt my earlier letter to you and this in your read. I earnestly hope you are well treated by the times of life. Before you wish to inquire of me upon parchment, I shall have you know that I am kindly taken care of. But restrain not yourself from writing to me; it would greatly please my tempers to hear from you. I believe in truth that the art of your hands has seen no rust and that the grace of your ministry remains plenty to this minute.

Our country has been seeing a deluge of rains this past month till our rivers are swollen and the weather seems not likely to grow fairer in any time coming. I hope the seasons of the skies and of your heart are as bright as summer day.

There was inspired reason beyond salutations and passive events that I do write to you regarding, by means of this page: I was unavoidably reminded of you when I saw the crest of your seal and signature in the earlier request for stock that was received from you in the bygone week.

Assuming that the great deal of Rivenhove and Threstwich were not available in your coastal kingdom on wholesale, I made no hesitation to pack the containers and transport them immediately.

However, I wished to ask of you if all tides are calm, for it was a loftily unordinary proposal to request. I was initially concerned, for Threstwich is greatly dangerous an acid and further, the sum was unusual.

And further, I did not count it much of a deal until I heard Tristendyre was expecting brief rains this coming week and Rivenhove would render terrifying effects.

Are you facing the incoming of wars that such great amount is necessary to fend away armies? It is far from my concerns, but should any situation be threatening, make no hesitation to reach me. I await to help you here, merely a letter and journey away.

Now, I did not plant this letter of inquiry with your supply and have sent it separately, for there were mild hues of doubt that arose in my mind:

The tender's signature seemed suspicious to my eyes for I have seen your flair much differently. Judge me not to be the ignorant, for it truly has been an period long enough whence we have not written to each other and I, seen the signature of your script, that there was sufficient time for your hand's art of writing to have accommodated change. But I merely discerned that it seemed printed in the shape of one who would write with their right hand, whilst you are one well-versed with your left.

If the order truly was made from your end, the deal sees no odds; I am glad to have been of service to you. However, if you find any need to be cautious of the unprecedented misuse of your name, do write to me and I shall forward to your grasp: the request letters that I have received that you may make verifications.

I truly hope that all of your endeavours and circumstances are immune to misfortune and that I am hopefully incorrect in gauge.

Fervent regards,

Lord Cecil Urbane, Physician of the Crown of Rustchin'mere Empire."

Lady Minerva was greatly conflicted- an emotion she had not expected from the long-last letter of an old friend.

She could understand the request of Rivenhove, for she had seen its stench and utilisation in the lampposts of Hazenvale the previous night, after Imogen's ordeal was finalised during the slumbering hours of the kerns.

However, it was strange business that the ample sum had been imported from a foreign land.

She felt nervous, for she did not know of how much was purchased and how much exhausted.

What had taken her breath in greater shock, however, was the request of Threstwich. This liquid was a savage and murderous acid that could cause its victims nearly even death.

It would still and mute the senses of the consumer for over a day or even two and its antidote was curiously rare to acquire (for need of terrifying ingredients).

She did not know wherefore such outlandish and menacing chemicals were requested.

Further, it was as true as that night would be followed by day that her seal and signature were forged, be-cause such unsightly calls and quotations could never have seen Lady Minerva's approval; not even if her state of wits were invaded by some compelling intoxication.

She was sold to believe that it was the craft of the Regent and his Eccleissor behind the forgery of her symbol.

For one, she was in kind correspondence with various Physicians across the globe, for they were of her acquaintances and colleagues.

However, this may only be one amongst their dark illicit deeds, under the pretext of her and other castle chiefs' name.

Lady Minerva wished to address the issue, by means of a responding letter sent through Altair.

She drew a sheet of parchment and considered the issues of the letter's travel. The Lady would have to ensure that the content she has mentioned reaches Lord Cecil's eyes exclusively.

In other words, she required making a secretive and subtly phrased letter, for the Regent that she suspected was much too close in range.

After all, it was immediate need that Cecil Urbane sends her the documents that she may use as evidence against the Regents, if they truly were the ones on the wrong.

Just as she was in her frames of contemplation, there was an urgent rap at the door.

~