A senior officer glanced over at Daniel, and nodded. She raised her arm, and the crowd began to quieten.
‘Good afternoon,’ she said, her practised voice reaching to the edge of the large forecourt. ‘On this most revered of dates, when we commemorate the life and death of Tara’s most illustrious son, Prince Michael, and honour his beloved and divine mother, the God-Queen Amalia, I am pleased to present to you, the people of Tara, this year’s new crop of young officers.’
She paused to allow a polite smattering of applause from the common folk.
‘The Taran nobility,’ she went on, ‘has a unique role to play in these troubled times. The peace and security of the City depend on order and obedience, without which the tribes would fall into anarchy and lawlessness. Outside the Great Walls, the eternal enemy waits; seasons change and decades pass, and they will still be there. The weak may tremble at the thought, but it is the task of the best of us to never despair, to fight on and keep the flames of the City alive. We are a beacon of light in this world, the last beacon, and if the day comes when that light is extinguished, then this world shall fall into darkness and oblivion. But, until that day, we pledge to fight on, and to never give up.’ She turned to glance at the two dozen youths next to her on the platform. ‘Please stand.’
The young aristocrats rose from their wooden chairs.
‘Once a year,’ the officer said, ‘on the birthday of our beloved martyr and prince, we commission our new officers. By swearing the sacred oath to the God-King and God-Queen of the City, they are bound to a lifetime of service to Tara and the Rosers; the first town, and the first tribe. Raise your right hands, and make your oath.’
‘In the name of the God-Queen and God-King,’ they recited in unison, ‘and in the sacred memory of Michael, Prince of Tara, we vow to dedicate our lives to the service of Tara, the tribe of the Rosers, and the City. We swear to obey the orders of our superiors, and shall uphold the dignity and honour of the Rosers, the first and most noble tribe of the City, for as long as we shall live.’
There was another smattering of applause, and the officer gestured to the youths to retake their seats.
‘I shall now call out the names of those who have recently graduated from the Taran Military Academy. When you hear your name, please step forward.’ An aide passed the officer a thick sheet of cream-coloured paper. ‘Lieutenant Daniel Aurelian.’
Daniel blinked. He had finished eleventh out of twelve in his class, and he suspected that he had only passed due to the influence of his parents. He stood, and the crowd applauded as he made his way through the rows of chairs to the front. The aide held out a purple ribbon and a gold badge, and the officer took them as Daniel approached.
‘Congratulations, Lieutenant,’ the officer said, taking a firm grip of Daniel’s hand and shaking it. She passed him the regimental insignia and the officer ribbon. ‘Wear these with pride.’
Daniel nodded, unsure if he should reply. His eyes darted over the crowd, and he caught sight of his parents beaming with joy. A few seats to their left sat members of the Chamberlain family. They were applauding politely, but Daniel could see the contempt in their eyes. The officer smiled and withdrew her hand, and Daniel took that as the signal to return to his seat. He squeezed through the chairs as the officer read out another name. Daniel took his seat amid more applause, and gazed at the badge and ribbon lying in the palm of his right hand.
That was it. He was an officer. Not because he wanted to be, or because he had any interest whatsoever in the Taran militia, but because of his name, and what it meant. He kept his head down for the rest of the ceremony, ignoring the polite clapping of the others around him, and meeting no one’s glance. When the last graduate to be called had received their ribbon and badge, the officer raised her hand again, and the forecourt fell into silence.
‘These twenty-six new officers,’ she said, ‘have all worked hard to reach this point, and at dawn tomorrow they will take their place in the Taran militia. This evening, however, as is traditional, they and their families are cordially invited to a dance and reception in the banqueting hall of Maeladh Palace.’ She smiled. ‘Please don’t keep our young lieutenants up too late.’
She stepped back and began to applaud the new officers, who stood to receive the acclaim of the crowd. Daniel shuffled to his feet, feeling light-headed and dizzy, as if he were in a dream.
‘Hey, Danny,’ said a young man to his right, ‘you couldn’t look more miserable if you tried. What’s up? Just think, no more classes, ever. As of tomorrow, we’ll be the ones giving the orders, and those stupid sergeants and trainers will have to do what we say, instead of us having to obey them.’
Daniel nodded. His eyes drifted left towards the harbour of Tara, where dozens of small vessels were berthed amid the clear, blue waters of Warm Bay, then at the pretty villas and mansions of the old town, with their red tiled roofs and pastel exteriors, and finally to the right, where the high cliffs of the Sunward Range continued up the coastline to where the gargantuan marble statue of the martyred Prince Michael stood, guarding the entrance to the large bay. The ancient palace of Maeladh was dug into the side of the high, narrow ridge of hills, its huge bulk amended and renovated countless times since its foundation. Along from it nestled Princeps Row, a cluster of streets where the richest Tarans dwelt in great mansions that had been burrowed from the rock. One of the grandest residences belonged to the Aurelians, and Daniel had been born and raised within its solid walls. The palace had once been their family home, he knew; a fact that his parents had pointed out to him while he was still a toddler. One day, his mother had whispered, it would be their home again.
Although there were several hours between the ceremony and the reception, Daniel’s parents seemed to spend the entire time rushing about getting ready. Tailors, hairdressers, manicurists and make-up artists had all been summoned to the Aurelian mansion. His mother had sent spies out from the family household of servants to discreetly discover what the other parents and family members were going to be wearing to the reception. For the aristocracy, this was one of the biggest events of their lives; the day their noble children took on the mantle of adult responsibilities and became full Taran citizens. As an only child, Daniel’s parents would experience the occasion once, and both were determined to take full advantage of the opportunities it would present.
For Daniel, sartorial choices were of no concern; he would be wearing his dress uniform along with the other new officers. A servant had stitched the purple ribbon to the shoulder of his militia jacket, and the golden badge depicting the leopard of Tara had been attached to the breast pocket. At his mother’s insistence, the jacket was hanging up in his room to prevent him from creasing it or, Amalia forbid, in case he accidentally stained or ripped it. He retired out onto a veranda to escape the sound of his parents shouting at the servants, and watched as the sun slipped towards the horizon, and the sky resumed its usual shades of red and pink. Their mansion was one of the highest on the ridge, and he could see right across the bay to the outer suburbs of Pella, the home of untold numbers of Reaper peasantry. He envied their simple lives at that moment, and their freedom. Crab-boats and small passenger ferries were plying the waters of the bay, while larger galleys were sailing past the enormous statue of the dead Prince Michael, heading for the straits that led to the Warm Sea to harvest the seaweed, lobsters and shellfish that proliferated in the balmy, saline waters. It was a beautiful view, he had to admit; possibly one of the best views in the City, and he had it all to himself.
There was a tap on the veranda door, and his mother emerged into the early evening light.
‘I knew I’d find you out here,’ she said, sitting next to him. Her hair was up in rollers, and she had a towel draped over her shoulders, and a glass of wine in her right hand. ‘It has come to my attention,’ she said, ‘that young Gaimer from your class is related to the Hauvern family.’
‘Yeah, so?’
She frowned at him. ‘The Hauv
erns are cousins with the Bludwins, and Perpertua Bludwin is married to none other than the uncle of your Miss Clarine. What I am trying to say, my dear child, is that there’s a very strong possibility that your betrothed will be present at tonight’s reception.’
His eyes widened. ‘I thought her parents weren’t going to let her leave the house until we were married?’
‘Yes,’ his mother said, her gaze on the harbour, ‘that is indeed what they said. However, graduation day at the academy is a very special occasion, and so I thought I’d prepare you, just in case.’
‘Gaimer never mentioned that he knew Clarine.’
‘Immaterial, my boy. Now, if Miss Clarine is there, then propriety and tradition forbid you from being alone in her presence. You may dance with her, in fact if you didn’t ask it would be seen by her family as a grievous insult, but you must keep a good distance between you; a hand on her waist is fine, but nowhere else. And whatever else you do, do not kiss her. Be courteous, but aloof; interested, but not overly-excited. Keep your conversation to banalities regarding the weather, or how pretty her dress is.’
‘You make it sound like I’ll be dancing with an old aunt, rather than with the woman I’m going to marry.’
Her mother shook her head. ‘Miss Clarine is still only fourteen, Daniel; she is not yet a woman.’
A shiver rippled through him at her mother’s words. ‘What? But, no, that can’t be right. I last saw her when I was fourteen, are you telling me that she was only nine years old at the time?’
‘Yes. Her mother went to inordinate lengths to make her appear older than her years, and you saw her for less than thirty seconds. If I recall the occasion correctly, the girl had a veil on for most of that time.’
‘You tricked me. I thought she was only a couple of years younger than me. I’m supposed to marry her when I’m twenty-one, and she’ll only be sixteen? I feel a bit sick, to be honest.’
‘Don’t be so melodramatic. When you’re fifty, she’ll be forty-five, and the difference in age will seem utterly trivial. What’s important is that this union will bring our families closer together. She’s from very good stock.’
‘She’s not a pony, mother.’
‘You know what I mean. Your father and I had to court her family for months before they would even consider beginning marriage negotiations. A lot of time and money has been invested in this engagement, and I know for a fact that, had you not passed the officer course at the academy, then they had a clause in the nuptial contract that would have allowed them to cancel the whole thing.’
He stared out at the bay. ‘Maybe that would have been better. I don’t want to be an officer, and I don’t want to marry a woman, I mean a girl, that I don’t even know.’
His mother slapped him across the face. ‘How dare you, you ungrateful child. Do you have any inkling of the sacrifices your father and I have made to get you where you are today? Of course you don’t; you’re a foolish and immature boy with no understanding of the struggles of life, or the place of the Aurelians. This family has served Tara since the very beginning, and the blood of the last mortal prince runs in your veins.’ She took a breath. ‘Now, I know it must be hard for you. You are the sole living heir of what was once a flourishing family line, a line that has lasted almost three and a half thousand years. If you fail to marry and produce heirs, then all of that history ends with you. The shame would break my heart and send your father to an early grave.’
‘It’s too much,’ he said, ‘and it’s all on my shoulders. Why, mother, why didn’t you have more children?’
‘You wouldn’t ask that question if you knew the troubles we had conceiving you, my son. Years of trying; years of disappointment, until you finally appeared. You were like a miracle to us; you still are. This is yet another reason why Miss Clarine is such a perfect match; her family abounds in their fecundity, and I have no doubt that she will bear you a strong and robust litter of children to fill the ranks of the next generation of Aurelians.’
He grimaced as she stood.
‘You’re a man now,’ she said, her hand going to the veranda door. ‘Try to remember to act like one.’
The banqueting hall of the palace was the most sumptuous chamber Daniel had ever seen. Its domed ceiling rose high above the marble floor, painted in frescoes outlined in gold leaf. Glittering chandeliers hung suspended by chains, each one dazzling from the glow of the dozens of candles that burned within their jewelled holders. The high walls were brightly painted, depicting scenes from the legendary past of the City; the arrival of the Two Gods, the building of the Union Walls, when the City was first united under the rule of the God-King and God-Queen, and the Battle of the Children of the Gods, when Malik and Amalia’s six offspring had annihilated the greenhides and pushed them back hundreds of miles, allowing the time and space to construct the invincible Great Walls. The newest scene had been added only a few hundred years before, and showed the infamous slaying of the mighty and beloved Prince Michael, lord of Tara, and eldest son of the God-King and God-Queen. The vile and treacherous Princess Yendra, who had so shamelessly cut down her brother in cold blood, was shown cowering in fear before the king and queen, who had come to mourn their son and deliver justice to their wicked daughter.
Daniel gazed at the picture for a moment, wondering what Queen Amalia thought of it. The God-Queen had moved into the palace in Tara after her son’s death, taking over his old rooms and making them her own, following her separation from the God-King, who had remained in Ooste. In his nineteen years, Daniel had never once seen the God-Queen, whose personal living quarters were far removed from the banqueting hall.
He bowed to the noble lords and ladies as he entered the chamber, his parents a step behind. At least a hundred of Tara’s elite were already inside, chatting, and taking food and wine from trays held aloft by uniformed servants. A musical band were tuning up in a corner of the hall, their strings and horns mingling with the hubbub of conversations. Daniel groaned inwardly, but tried to keep a smile on his face. He loathed the aristocracy of Tara, and was already counting the hours and minutes before he could leave. His parents took him on a tour of the room, where he shook hands and nodded along to the many congratulations.
The crowd cleared a space in the middle of the floor when the band began playing, and the first couples stepped up to dance. Daniel retreated to a side wall, and tried to hide himself in the shadows.
‘Hey, Danny,’ said Todd, one of his academy classmates. ‘You having fun?’
‘Yeah, right,’ he muttered.
Todd shrugged. ‘I don’t mind it. Free wine, free food, and you get to look at all the girls dressed up.’
‘I’m engaged, remember?’
‘So? It’s only looking.’
‘If my mother catches me gawking at other girls she’ll string me up.’ He sighed. ‘Malik’s ass, here she comes.’
Todd visibly straightened and tucked his stomach in as Daniel’s mother approached. ‘Ma’am,’ he said, bowing low and kissing her hand, ‘might I say what a delight you’re looking this evening?’
Daniel’s mother raised an eyebrow at Todd, then withdrew her hand from his grasp. ‘Quite. Anyway, would you be so good as to fetch me another glass of wine?’
‘Of course, ma’am,’ said Todd, bowing again, ‘it would be my pleasure.’
He scurried off, and Daniel shook his head. Several of his male classmates acted in the same way around his mother, and it had been a source of continual embarrassment.
‘What a charming young man,’ she said, ‘but I felt obliged to interrupt, as a certain young miss has arrived.’
He groaned.
‘Hush, now.’ She pointed discreetly towards the opposite wall. ‘There she is, along with about a dozen of her relations, all here just for Lieutenant Gaimer. Her parents must have known you’d be coming, so we should assume that they expect you to go over and ask her to dance.’
‘Mother,’ he cringed, ‘you can’t make me dance with a
fourteen-year-old in front of the other officers; I’ll be a laughing stock.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Half of the officers present here will also be having arranged marriages, and if any think less of you for dancing with your betrothed, then that’s their problem. On the other hand, if you refuse to ask her, then the damage might well be irreparable.’
His eyes scanned the opposite wall. He caught sight of Gaimer and his sister, then behind them, almost unnoticeable, stood a girl in a long green dress. Her face was lowered, but she glanced up as he stared, and their eyes met. She blushed and looked away.
‘I can’t do this,’ he muttered.
His mother frowned at him. ‘Remember when I told you to act like a man? Perhaps you should start now. If you don’t, then I will go over there and ask her on your behalf and, trust me, that would look considerably worse.’
The Mortal Blade: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (The Magelands Eternal Siege Book 1) Page 6