[b]The Princes Palace, Otocres, Kingdom of Osetina[/b]

Spring rain battered the mosaics of stained glass that served as the throne rooms colossal windows.  What little light penetrated the gloom of an overcast day filtering through the glass as a dazzling array of subdued yet vibrant colour that danced with the falling water, casting strange and lurid patterns on the faces of the assembled.  For her part, Imogen was nearer to being exhausted rather than dazzled by the splendor.  Rising from a deferential bow she spoke, “I am honoured to be granted this audience your Majesty, Serene blessings upon you.”

With a smirk, and he did so love the niceties, King Giles d’Montigue welcomed her, “Head Witch, Imogen, how rare it is for you to visit court these days.”

There was a time she’d have returned the backhanded compliment, but that day had past.  Giles was the King now, and when the king had court he was unquestioned.  That was fine, she wasn’t here to speak to a friend.  With a short nod she continued, “My duties have kept me away your Majesty, they are also why I come today.   I requested this audience with urgency so that I may advise caution.  I speak of this latest news of peculiar merchants arriving with seemingly enchanted food shipments; an arrival the news of which has doubtless spread quickly.  Since my order became aware of this we have performed a cursory investigation, and I have become concerned by the nature of the goods now flooding the capitals stores.  These eastern merchants hail from no land known, even to the Witches, and the magics they purport to have preserved their cargo are also foreign to us.  It is the opinion of my order that your Majesty should prohibit the sale of these eastern goods until we can be certain what magic was used to preserve them will not have unforeseen and dangerous effects.”

The humor drained from Giles as he leaned forward in the ancient edifice of gold and bone that was his throne, “You advise we tell the people they cannot eat Imogen?  The war in Lynnfaire may well end in the coming days, but this shipment has been a boon to the capital and a grace without compare to the people.  Imbued with strange magic or no, I will not keep the starving from food.”  His sober countenance belied the frustration in his eyes as he stood, closing the distance between them and looking her in the eye before going on, “Yet still, if this is what you advise I am not fool enough to disregard the warnings of your order.  I will heed your advice, but I will not deprive the people.”

Imogens brow creased slightly as she watched him, Giles was not one for foolhardy sentiment.  She questioned, “You have my thanks for the trust you place in my order your Majesty, but if not a ban on the goods in question, what do you mean to do?”  

In answer Giles turned to address the assembled court and boomed, “The easterners goods shall be permitted within the capital, but they shall not leave this cities gates nor find their way to other ports before the Witches can be certain of their safety.”  With a pointed look towards Imogen he spoke softly so only she could hear, “I can buy you weeks, a month at most, but no longer.  Do what you will.”

With a deep bow and a [i]’Your Majesty’[/i] she strode out of the room, not irritated but far from pleased.  Of course she understood that a temporary ban on the goods would be unpopular, but magic to preserve food? Yattunys?  It wasn’t just suspicious, it was convenient.  He had to see the danger as well as she did, and if Giles was permitting it in the city then things beyond the Witch Keeps were worse than she’d thought.  How close to widespread famine was the realm?  One lost shipment from Lynnfaire?  Two?  It was a disturbing revelation, but one for another day.  Hers and her ilk’s was not to worry about food, but magic.

It so happened that today the two met.  By the time she’d reached the gates the rain had eased, at least her trip to the markets would be a mote less gruelling.  She had a great deal to learn, and no time to learn it.