Title: The Messenger
Genre: action/fantasy
Prompt Used: "A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words."

"Nope, I sure don't envy her none, either." The man who spoke the words was giving Ailee a sideways look as she passed in the hallway. He and his companion wore livery in gold and cream, showing that they were servants of the Council, the rulers of Brogon, and the young woman felt a surge of excitement run through her. Surely his words meant that she was to be assigned to a mission, and while he may find it frightening, she relished the thought.

She was, after all, a Messenger for the feeling of excitement alone. Others might think that her job had too little reward for the risk, but what they couldn't understand was that the risk is what made it worthwhile. Messengers were the fastest means of passing important news along, and good ones were sought far and wide for their skills. Then again, bad ones died, so she had to figure that being alive after a handful of missions meant that one was a good Messenger.

Ailee was one of the best, though, and everyone knew it. She was the fastest, the most reliable, and, important to most of her clients, the most discreet. Too many people passed covert messages of high risk, and they needed someone who knew better than to ask what they would be carrying. Oftentimes Messengers were met with suspicion as they traveled, not to mention the dangers of using the fastest routes across country instead of taking the well traveled roads. They were paid to get the missives to their intended receiver, as fast as possible, and that often required risky trails that could injure the horse and leave the rider with a broken neck. Ailee had successfully completed over twenty carries, a fact that filled her with pride.

Stopping in front of the council chamber, Ailee paused while a guard dressed in black and cream stepped inside to announce her. Her non-descript clothing provided a bit of anonymity, but here in Brogon her face was well known among those who served the mighty. The soldiers guarding the doors gave her considering looks, though a few of them added a leer on the end of it as they took in her curves. She ignored them all, waiting patiently with her gaze fixed on the pale wooden doors ahead.

The Council could really only have two reasons for summoning her. The first, and less likely one, was that they had agreed to take part in Kruzar's war against Thivelle. It wasn't very likely because, while Kruzar had done nothing to anger the Council, they had been caught in an attempted assassination on Thivelle's King. The Council wasn't likely to condone that sort of action, especially when each of the seven councilors had to watch their own backs from their fellow councilors. It wouldn't do to be seen assisting assassination. 

The second, and more likely reason, in Ailee's opinion, was that the council had agreed to ally with Thivelle. Despite the fact that Thivelle and Brogon shared no border, the former kingdom had done nothing to provoke the attack on them and so the council was more likely to enter the war on their behalf. However, all of that was idle speculation; the war had been going for more than a decade, with neither side winning, while Brogon and its councilors simply sat back and watched. The chances that they would now choose a side were slim, but for the cost that Ailee charged, she couldn't imagine any other reason they would hire her.

The doors suddenly swung open and the guard who had gone to announce her motioned for her to enter. As she passed him she couldn't help but to think that he looked quite dashing in his uniform; maybe she ought to catch his name and talk to him later. The thought was pushed from her mind as she focused on the occupants of the room. 

The councilors sat in their judgement chairs at the far end of the room, each a large wooden chair painted black with a bright gemstone above the occupants head. The center chair was taken up by an older man dressed in the heavy cream colored robes of a councilor; the glittering gold stone above his head named him as the High Councilor Jason. His fingers were steepled in front of his lips as he watched her approach, his dark eyes taking in her appearance from head to toe. She couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious under his gaze, but she shoved that emotion aside and tried to keep her confidence up.

She reached the dais where the chairs sat, all on an equal level, and dropped a bow. She probably should have curtsied, but it felt strange to do so while in her riding clothes. Curtsying in pants never felt right, but the tight lipped look that the woman on the right of Jason gave her when she straightened said maybe she should have curtsied anyway.

"You are the Messenger called Ailee?" the man sitting at the end of the left hand side asked, and as she turned toward him she noticed the deep blue gem on his chair. That meant he was Counselor Gaeri. His eyes were just as calculating as the others, and she felt a moment of unease at their grim faces.

"Yes, Counselor," she said with another slight bow in his direction. He sat up in his seat and cast a look at the woman next to him.

"And you have had twenty four successful deliveries." The woman's inquiry was more of a statement. Her iron grey bun was tight on the top of her head and her red lips pursed as she watched Ailee as one might study a bug. The bright green gemstone above her head should have told Ailee who she was, but her memory failed her for the moment.

"Yes, Counselor." Her words were confident but her mind was reeling; the people who hired her were always direct to the point, and never had she had to go through a questioning session. Her gaze jumped to the next woman, the youngest of the three female counselors; her apparent age named her as Jamira even before Ailee saw the red stone above her.

Jamira's dark eyes studied Ailee just as intently as the first two questioners. "You were not born in Brogon," she said slowly, her gaze picking Ailee apart. "Yet you mainly serve in our country. Where do your loyalties lie?"

Ailee could tell that this was likely the most important question that she would be receiving; every single one of the seven had tensed as they awaited her answer, some visibly and a few almost imperceptibly. She took a moment to phrase her response in her mind before speaking it. "I was born in the North," she began; the nods she saw a few of the counselors give told her that they already knew that bit. "I've lived and worked out of Brogon for the last five years now, though. I cannot say that my loyalty lies with the Council, and I apologize for that, but as you know I am not an official citizen of Brogon. However. My loyalty lies with the Guild and as such, I would never betray a client."

Silence reigned for a long moment and Ailee found herself hoping that her honesty wasn't about to be punished. They wanted an answer, though, and she had given them the truthful one. The Messenger's Guild was not a large or powerful guild, but its members were loyal to one another and their vows as Messengers were taken seriously. She would never betray the Guild, and therefore, never betray a client.

The Council members looked at one another for a moment before Jason finally leaned forward toward her, his expression grave as his eyes latched onto hers. "The message we need you to deliver must not fall into the hands of anyone from Kruzar. It must be taken to the King of Thivelle, at any cost, as quickly as possible. Can you do this?" 

Ailee's heart beat faster as she realized her guess was correct. Brogon was going to make an alliance with Thivelle, the two countries joining forces against the one sandwiched between them. Her mind raced as she considered the best and fastest route across Kruzar, taking into consideration that she would have to keep out of sight. "I can do it," she finally said, her mind made up. She could take the Northeastern route across and into Thivelle. It was only four days by horseback but treacherous country, with rocky crags and forests. It was a better bet than taking the roads to the South, though; she would invariably be seen and not only that, the country was wider along the South and would take over ten days to cross it.

"I'll be taking the Northern route, across the crags," she told them, and though a couple of council members looked mildly surprised, Jason nodded and motioned for her to come closer. As she approached he held out a thin leather book. When she took it and opened it she realized that it was a stack of papers, wrapped tightly with the leather to keep it safe. 

"Do not let that fall into enemy hands, Ailee," Jason warned. 

She stepped back to give him another bow. "I will deliver it safely, you have my word."

They wrapped up their business swiftly after that, the councilors seeming to have relaxed upon her agreement. They promised to send the money for her fee to the Guildhouse, and once everything was agreed upon, she left the palace and made her way to the city stables. 

She usually kept her horse Twister at the Guild stables but when she had received the summons that morning, she had a feeling the mission would be urgent. All of her equipment was already in her saddlebags, her bedroll tied to the cantle of her saddle, her horse grazing contentedly on the hay in his box with his bridle looped over the pommel of his saddle. Ailee tossed a coin to the stable boy as payment for watching over her things, then as he scrambled off, she stepped close to her bay gelding and loosened the cinch enough that she could lift the saddle away from the blanket.

There, sewn into the top of the blanket, lay a pocket which she placed the leather bound papers into. Once she was satisfied that it was secure, she lowered the saddle back down and tightened the cinch once more. The entire thing had taken but a moment, and to anyone casually watching it could have appeared that she was simply checking the blanket for burrs before setting off. The Messengers never let anyone know where they carried their secret documents, by a matter of principal.

Taking the bridle off of the pommel, she stepped close to her horse's head and nudged his shoulder. "Hey, boy. Give me your head," she cajoled, and though he was much more interested in eating than obeying, she fit the bridle onto him quickly. The Guild preferred to train their horses to a bitless bridle, one that the horse could wear the entire journey and not have sores on their mouth at the end of it. It also meant that the horse could eat as they traveled instead of having to be haltered for it, making the journey as fast as possible. The only time they would need to stop was when Ailee was too tired to sit the saddle anymore.

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