“My King,” Nash said deferentially, “would you consider enabling me with the free will to attempt to kill the groom if circumstances allow?” he asked. “When successful, I would travel to Drenad and remove his second son from the equation.”
“An interesting proposal,” King Sargus said as he considered it. “If you travel quickly, you could get to Drenad before news of the Prince’s death,” he said.
Even Agamen had to admit there was merit to the solution. “It would buy a few years,” Agamen said quietly and then asked as if negotiating, “Would you consider slaying the third prince since technically we are already at war with Drenad?”
“I don’t like it, but I would consider it,” Nash answered. King Sargus exchanged glances with Agamen, and they nodded.
“You have my permission to assassinate the princes of Drenad, Nash,” King Sargus proclaimed. “However, if circumstance makes killing the Prince unrealistic, you must fall back to killing Princess Adriana.”
“Thank you, my King,” Nash said and turned to leave the room. He would be traveling light and was on his way to the stables to take the fastest horse he could find. He planned on putting as many miles as possible behind him before dark.
Nash rode hard and entered the town of Woodhurst shortly after dark. His horse was sweating and needed a warm down. The stable-hand at the Drunken Stag Inn greeted him.
“Good evening, sir,” the boy said pleasantly as Nash dismounted. “Can I take your horse for you?”
“Walk him around the pen for half an hour before feeding and watering him, I’ll be done in an hour or so. Leave him saddled up, boy. I will not be staying the night,” he said as he slipped a silver coin to the boy.
“Thank you, sir!” the boy said, grinning ear to ear. “Your horse will be ready for you when you are done.” Nash smiled at him as best he could with his task weighing on his mind.
Inside, the patrons murmured quietly. Some looked him over when he entered, but none really looked at him after they decided he was harmless. He dressed in grey, non-descript clothes when he traveled and tried to blend in with the crowd when he could. He always tipped, but never above what would be considered customary. He was always polite, but not so much that people would remember him. His goal was to not draw attention to himself in any way; to be unforgettable.
As he ate the chicken that the barmaid had brought him, he considered his options. The entourage from Drenad would have to pass through two places no matter what route they took. They would first have to pass through Trinity pass on this side of the mountains and then through the lowlands of Bogmor. All other routes would not allow the procession to arrive in a timely manner. Both of these locations presented strategic locations for Nash to strike at. The question was, which was the best?