He waited a moment more, watching the queen’s face intently. “Isabelle is missing,” he told her suddenly. A number of minute expressions crossed her face at this news and her eyes mirrored all of them for Calibex to see. First to cloud her eyes was a momentary shock to hear that her daughter was missing, then a touch of maternal fear and concern for her safety. Francis then realized that if the wizard did not know where Isabelle was, Humphrey must have spirited her away and she would no doubt be safe with the dark knight. All of these thoughts crossed the queen’s face in the space of a single heartbeat, yet Calibex understood them all.

The wizard leaned forward and placed his hands on the table, lacing his long fingers together, while one pale digit rubbed a dark red stone on the ring worn on his right index finger. “It seems she is also well warded from magical influence,” he said.

Francis was looking past the wizard at the bare stone wall of her prison when he spoke, but glanced back to him with a slight smile on her face when she heard that statement. Calibex now knew for certain that Francis had indeed obtained a warding talisman for the child, no doubt from the aged Zoran—it could have come from no other wizard.

“Now where could the little princess go to hide and perhaps seek aid?” the wizard asked softly, speaking almost to himself but still watching the queen like a hawk. “Surely not to the east, where Harold and his army were so recently destroyed,” he said and saw the queen’s face fall into despair for a moment, but that feeling was quickly replaced with unbridled hate directed toward the wizard. He smiled within the cowl of his robe. “And not to the south, where most of the barons are obviously dissatisfied with her family’s rule,” he said, “as is apparent by our present positions,” he added, spreading his hands to encompass the bare chamber. The queen’s anger and hatred flashed across her face once again, and Calibex could see the jaw muscles clench as she gritted her teeth to force down a cutting response.

“So, then,” he mused, enjoying the queen’s silent torment, “it must be to the north she travels. But to what purpose?” He could see just a touch of fear now clouding her eyes, so pressed on. “There is no place in the Westerlands where she could feel safe or could elicit aid for her cause,” he said and saw the fear grow within the queen’s eyes.

“She attempts to go north beyond the Westerlands?” he asked, surprised at this choice, but could see by the queen’s reaction that he was correct. He rose from the chair, his mind whirling and began to pace the confines of the small room. “What could she hope to achieve by this?” he asked himself. “The mountains of the Northlands contain naught but hole-digging dwarves and beyond that…” He stopped his pacing and swung on Francis. A flash of hope crossed her face and there was a twinkle in her eye as a small smile turned up her full lips.