A Rising Darkness

by Nikki Dorakis

  “This is Gillan, he’s a Morlan and he likes to wrestle.” Gor said grabbing me by the arm and leading me over to the man. “Gillan. This is Ez’n. He’s a bit small but I like him.”

  The soldier stiffened bringing himself to attention and giving me a very brisk, smart salute as soon as he came to realise where he was. His face flushed as much I guessed from finding himself in the somewhat embarrassing position of being before Zetaria’s viceroy in such disarray as he was from his athletic exertions with Prince Gor. The prince turned to me. “I wanted Gillan to meet you. He’s very strong. Stronger than Petros,” Gor leaned towards my ear, “but he’s Morlan and,” he said in tones not quite hushed enough to be discreet, “he doesn’t like to bed with other boys. Don’t you think that strange, Ez’n?”

  “Morla’s ways are not ours,” I answered in the hope of sparing Gor’s new friend any further embarrassment. Gor prodded the young man playfully in the ribs and said something else in Morlan which despite Gillan’s best efforts not to react still brought colour to his face.

  “Stand easy soldier.” I told him. I turned to Maegor. “An explanation would be helpful at this point, Sergeant.”

  It turned out that Gor had paid the barracks a visit in the early hours asking to see the horses. Maegor, being the stable master and completely unaware of Gor’s disposition had dutifully obliged the young prince. They had met Gillan who was grooming Markos’ mount and Gor decided he wanted to practice his Morlan—a language he had asked to learn when he found out he would be returning to Kalina and there would be foreign soldiers in residence.

  Gillan, being a Morlan, and accustomed I guessed to wrestling with his peers and superiors alike—and probably his prince—had thought nothing of it when Gor challenged him to a throw down. Neither did the soldier think it odd when Gor suddenly decided that they should visit his friend “Ezzin” in the royal apartments. Maegor could scarcely gainsay the prince, it was not his place, though I did not doubt he would have done so had he realised the extent of Gor’s limitations. It was clear from Maegor’s immense discomfort that he had not expected the prince to start roughhousing the moment he was through my front door.

  I regarded the young prince coolly taking in the fact that not only did he stink of the stables, but also that he was grubby in the extreme and in the course of his sport had strewn bits of straw and other less savoury stable detritus over my reception room floor. But of the most concern was the fact that the Queen was in the adjoining room and was likely to take a fit were she to see the state of her so-called “delicate” son. I found myself almost smiling at the thought. I suspected that people might describe Gor in any number of ways, but I seriously doubted that “delicate” would be an adjective that came readily to mind.

  I dismissed the Morlan heedless of Gor’s protests that he wanted Gillan to stay. “Your Highness, Gillan must attend his duties for Prince Markos,” I told him. “It was improper for you to distract him.”

  “I don’t much care for what’s proper.” Gor told me.

  “Clearly, young sir,” I answered, “but there are disciplines by which soldiers must abide and as a Prince you should encourage this sense of order.”

  “You’re being very stuffy, Ez’n” Gor told me.

  “Be that as it may, highness, the king expects his sons to behave in a way that exemplifies their station, not in a manner that belittles it.” I put my hand up to silence the youth. “I have your mother in the room next door and she is most upset because you have gone walkabout without telling her.”

  “Well, I don’t see why,” Gor answered, picking a strand of straw out of his hair and flicking it away, “I always go off without telling her. She gets more stuffy than you when I want to do things on my own.”

  Maegor shot me a look that could have melted steel. I raised an eyebrow in response. “Well, before you return to you quarters, Prince Gor, I will have Aarin draw you a bath and send Jalin for some clean clothes.” I signalled Aarin who ran off, returning moments later with towels, closely followed by Jalin who left immediately for the Queen’s rooms to get Gor’s clothing.

  I watched as the youths disappeared towards the bathroom and then turned to Maegor. “It would seem that the Queen is playing me, Sergeant.”

  “Forgive the impertinence, Meriq, but I doubt that you are actually surprised.”

  “No, my friend, I am not.” I turned my attention to the withdrawing room door. “Ah well, back into the jaws of the Dark Realm. Wait here please.”

  The Queen was as effuse as she was unconvincing in her relief when I told her that Gor had arrived at my chambers. She was somewhat put out when she learned that he had been at the stables to see the horses and had been helping groom them. I was not about to tell her of his encounter with the Morlan groom she was already working herself into a rage over the fact that Maegor had allowed the prince to work with the beasts in the stables.

  I assured the queen that Maegor was a man of great integrity and skill and would not have placed the prince with any but the most docile of the horses. I was certain Maegor would not have allowed Gor near Vyrnath who might well have smeared him across the walls had the boy tried to brush him.

  “I will bring Gor back to your apartments once he is more presentable, majesty. I would not want you to be further vexed by him.” And before the queen could even reply I called Maegor to escort her back to the royal quarters with the further order that he return to me in my offices immediately upon concluding his escort.

  I stared at Myrna in disbelief. “I can always send him away, Ez’n,” she said, “he does not have an appointment, but he is almost begging to see you.”

  I frowned. What in the five states could be so important to Senator Kourbis that he would call on me unannounced and with his son Thaze in tow? Reluctantly I agreed to see him, instructing that the senator’s son should remain in the outer rooms. I had no real wish to set eyes on that particular young man again.

  The Senator was somewhat flustered and ill-at-ease. And much though I could have enjoyed his discomfort, I found myself mellowing at the sight of a man so clearly distraught.

  “May I ask if all is well, Senator? You seem—distracted.”

  The man fidgeted for moment, finally accepting my invitation to sit. “I-I realise I have no right to ask anything of you, Lord Ez’n, given my son’s recent misconduct, but I am greatly concerned for his future and his well-being.”

  I gestured for the man to continue.

  “I have heard that you are soon to rebuild the Ez’n’s Guard. I was hoping to prevail upon you to accept Thaze into its ranks. He is a good boy,” the Senator added quickly, “a little stupid and easily led at times,” he conceded noting what I imagined was my expression, “but he is a skilled fighter and an honourable soldier.”

  “And ungirdled.” I observed rather more bluntly than I intended.

  The Senator nodded. “As you say, Ez’n. B-but I am certain he would serve you well and without question and I feel sure he would benefit from the influence of the men you choose for company rather than . . .” the Senator’s voice trailed off and he suddenly looked rather hunted.

  “Rather than . . .” I prompted.

  “Rather than spending his time in the Company of Wolves.” The Senator said with sudden candour.

  “I confess, Senator, I am not familiar with that edifice. Is it a newly opened tavern or a brothel?” I realised I was being deliberately disingenuous and I cared little if this was obvious to the senator; I was not disposed to leaving myself open to discussions involving Balten’s little circle and neither was I about to be led into acknowledging the soubriquet. If Senator Kourbis was aware of my ploy he made no sign of it.

  “Ez’n, it is a group of soldiers within the Royal house,” he told me in quiet confidential tones, “They have an evil and sordid reputation and I hear that they have been encouraging Thaze to mix with them. I do not want my son to fall in with such profligates. I thought if you could interview Thaze and have him t
ested by Provost Aenar you would find him suitable and offer him a place.”

  I considered the Senator’s words for a moment before giving the bell pull a tug, Jae’nt responded quickly and I ordered the Senator’s son brought before me. From what I remembered of the young man he was every bit as strongly built as Jae’nt, perhaps a little heavier in the shoulders but overall as lean and light as a good swordsman should be with plenty of evidence of upper body strength. In fact he was slimmer than I recalled and a little shorter. His whole bearing was more respectful and perhaps a little cowed.

  “Are you seeking a post in the Ez’n’s Guard of your own will?” I asked him. The young man remained standing with his eyes downcast.

  “I am Ez’n, though my father suggested it to me.”

  “And you suppose I can trust a guard who thinks of me as a catamite?” I demanded icily.

  The cadet continued to look down. “Lord Ez’n, both my conduct and my words were ill-judged. I can only offer my regrets and my word that should I make the ranks of your guard you will not find me lacking in loyalty or dedication.”

  I considered this for a while—long enough, in fact, to make the Senator and his son shift uncomfortably. I was not about to make this interview either pleasant or easy. For all I could tell, Kourbis might be seeking to plant his son in my company as a spy for Balten or his own ends. But looking at the cadet now, there was something in his demeanour that told me he would be trustworthy. “You will be welcome to tender your name for selection and trial, Thaze ibid-Kourbis. If you pass the trials and the selection you will be welcome in my guard. Speak to Myrna on your way out and leave your details with her. You will hear from the Provost in due course.”

  Maegor returned to my quarters just as the Senator and his son were leaving. He shot the boy a rather stony look before coming over to me and delivering his salute.

  “Myrna, tea if you please.” I signalled Maegor through to my office. “My friend I have a task for you. But first, tell me of Gor and the stables.”

  The Prince, it transpired had a singular way with horses. The beasts seem to take to him immediately. This, accordingly to Maegor, was an unusual occurrence especially where a youth had never had any exposure to them.

  “Even your own mount came over to look at him, Ez’n. It was quite uncanny. And Gor had petted him before I had even realised he was near the horse. I know,” Maegor said noting my surprise, “I nearly died from fright when I saw him standing on the straw bale scratching Vyrnath’s ears. I think he would make an excellent horseman, Ez’n. Then, of course, he met that—Morlan.” Maegor’s tone oozed disapproval.

  I smiled at him. Only Maegor could make a man’s nationality sound like an embarrassing genital disfigurement. Even given my dislike of the nation I could not have aspired to such asperity. “We choose our friends for qualities we admire, Maegor, and this is rarely governed by creed or colour.”

  “As you say, Ez’n.” The sergeant agreed, he paused as if ordering his thoughts. “The Prince has asked me to teach him to ride.”

  “And sword fighting!” Gor said as he appeared from my private chambers wearing nothing but a bath sheet. He grabbed a boq from the rack by the door and brandishing it with a surprising degree of dexterity he proceeded to attack Maegor. The man drew his sword and cut the stave a hand span from the prince’s fingers, re-sheathing his blade immediately thereafter in one fluid movement. Gor stared at the stub he was left holding and then burst into laughter.

  “I see no reason why that should not happen, highness. You are, after all a prince and you should begin to learn these skills. Which brings me to my task for you, Sergeant. Will you excuse us a moment, highness?” This to Gor as he began to select another boq, “And get Aarin or Iannos to find you some suitable clothing if Jalin has not yet returned, highness, you cannot go careering around my quarters in a towel. Myrna, will you see to that please?” This as my clerk appeared with the tea I had requested. She gave a brief curtsey and held the door while Gor strolled into the outer office.

  When we were alone I motioned the Sergeant to the table and poured us some tea. The sergeant took the news of Gor’s seizures stoically and remained silent long after I had finished speaking. Then he said, “If this is the case, Ez’n, it may not be a good idea for the boy to ride. He could come to harm if he falls to a fit while mounted.”

  “That he could, my friend,” but I think it unlikely that he will take a seizure while he is with you.”

  “You seem troubled, Meriq,” Maegor observed.

  I glanced at the sergeant. Troubled? Troubled was not the half of it. Troubled was an understatement. In fact, I was not quite sure what I was feeling.

  “If I can be of any assistance, Ez’n,” Maegor said as we approached the entrance to my apartments, “please call on me.”

  There was a nagging suspicion gnawing at the edges of my mind. It was not so much the fact that Eilen had been overly concerned; I supposed that she was merely trying to get the measure of me, calculating how open to manipulation I might be. It was Gor who was concerning me. For if a sound could be used to stop a seizure, then it seemed to my logical mind that something similar could be used to start one. After all, Jalin and Aarin had just spent the best part of retraining the dogs Balten gave me; and though no doubt Prince Gor’s mind was much more complicated than a dog’s, it was not beyond the bounds of reason that he could have been similarly conditioned.

  “You believe that, Meriq?”

  I shrugged. It mattered not in the slightest what I believed. The only thing that mattered is what I could prove—and how I might go about proving it. If Gor’s seizures were the result of some kind of training then I had no doubt that Eilen would be intending to use this to her advantage and to the king’s detriment. I could not prove that she had in some way prevented Gor from leaving her apartments to walk with me, but I had learned long ago to trust instincts such as the one that was presenting itself now.

  The sergeant gave me an expectant look. Taking a deep breath I began to explain my suspicions about Gor’s fits in detail and my plan to discover whether or not I was correct. If I was, then I would have to think of some way of preventing Eilen from using them to bring embarrassment to both the king and the prince.

  Maegor remained silent for a long time after I had finished speaking. At length he said “That is a monstrous notion, Meriq!”

  “And one I take no pleasure in harbouring, Maegor. But I need to be certain, and I hope we can determine whether or not I am mistaken before the arrival of King Keelan, for I have no doubt that the queen will make her move soon thereafter.”

  “You may rely on me, Meriq. When should the young Prince begin his lessons?”

  “Tomorrow morning. I’ll get up early and come and help you get the horses ready.” Gor said as he appeared in the doorway.

  I gave Maegor a short smile. “Tomorrow morning, then Sergeant.” So saying I placed my seal on a piece of parchment. “Give this to Myrna and ask her to write out the directive for Prince Gor’s tuition. It will be ready for you on the morrow when you go to collect the prince for his lessons. And Maegor,” I called as the sergeant made ready to escort Gor back to the Queen’s apartments, “I think Aenar should teach him the sword.”

  Maegor saluted smartly, offered his sword arm to Prince Gor and left.

  I turned the small sectaglass on my desk watching as the bright red sand trickled into the lower bulb. I calculated that it would take Maegor at least the half secta to deliver the order for Gor’s lessons and probably half that for the Queen to arrive at my offices in high dudgeon demanding an explanation.

  With this in mind I had cleared the first two sectas of my diary and, handing the time glass to Myrna instructed her to have refreshments served on the second turn of the measure. I checked the sand once more. “I think you should have Aarin prepare the welcome now.” I told her.

  Myrna gave me a knowing smile. “Would you not prefer something a little stronger, Ez’n?”

&nb
sp; “Indeed I would, Myrna, but I will need to have my wits about me. I will save the liquor for after the audience, thank you.”

  Aarin had just set the tray on the table by the hearth when the door of the outer office burst open with a resounding crash which almost set the crockery rattling. Aarin gave me an alarmed look. I rose slowly as the door of my own office burst open with equal force. The queen stalked in accompanied by Balten and Korlaq. My hackles rose instantly.

  My complete lack of expression froze the trio in mid-move. “You,” I pointed at Korlaq “may leave—now. I said “now”!” This as the Queen made to speak. “And you,” I turned to Balten, “may wait outside.”

  “I am with the Queen,” Balten replied.

  “You will be with the gaolers if you fail to address me properly again or make me repeat myself, Crown Prince Balten.” I gestured to the door. The prince gave me a venomous stare but left. I signalled Aarin to close the door and serve the tea.

  “It is customary to knock your majesty,” I observed as I escorted the queen to the seats by the fire.

  The queen’s quick eyes took in the tray set for two. “One might suppose you were expecting me, Ez’n-Kyr.”

  I allowed my gaze to follow the queen’s. “One might.” I agreed. “However, I always have refreshment served at this time for I can never be certain of when I might eat.”

  “Oh my!” the queen responded artfully, “Is the king such a hard task master?”

  “Not in the slightest, majesty. I do thus because of the salutary lesson taught me by my deceased mentor.”

  “And what would that be?” the queen enquired amicably.

  “That I could be dead by lunchtime.” I answered with a smile. “Dying with an empty stomach would be most inconvenient. Now, my queen, may I enquire regarding the manner and reason for your sudden visit?”

  The queen gave me a suspicious and accusatory look. “Gor is far too delicate a boy to be pursuing such strenuous activities as those you have ordered, Meriq.”