Second Son (The Minstrel's Song Book 2)

by Jenelle Leanne Schmidt

  “No,” he whispered hoarsely. “No, this can’t be happening.”

  In a flash he remembered the Corridor and as he turned to flee the horrible thing he had just done he found himself no more than a few steps from the doorway.

  “It’s not true! Do you hear me?” he screamed at the silent stars around him. “I would never do such a thing! Do you hear me? That is not who I am!” He quieted, panting a bit at his effort, the void remained silent and still, unaffected by his shouts.

  He reached out to touch the doorway of light, but a single breath away from his escape the Corridor caught him again.

  Ky found himself sitting on the throne. The great crown weighed down upon his head, but he had grown used to it and the headaches no longer visited themselves upon him as frequently as they had at the beginning of his reign. Rhoyan was facing him, his sword drawn and a startling look of pure hatred in his dark eyes. Ky stared back calmly, but a twinge of fear tingled through him as he met his brother’s glare. This man was not the brother he had known, this man was dangerous, and Ky knew his brother was more than his match when it came to one-on-one combat. He hoped desperately it would not come to that.

  “That crown isn’t yours,” Rhoyan snarled, “you stole it.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ky asked.

  “It should have been mine,” Rhoyan said viciously. “You know it and I know it and mother knows it, but no one will believe her now. You’ve fixed it real nicely, haven’t you?”

  “Walk away now, Rhoyan,” Ky’s voice had turned hard, “I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

  Rhoyan laughed. “As if you could.”

  Ky gazed back at him steadily and finally Rhoyan lowered his sword. The young man’s shoulders slumped in defeat and he turned and walked away slowly. Then, suddenly, Ky found that it was himself who was walking away. He turned back around and saw that it was Rhoyan sitting on the throne, gazing after him with a look of regret in his eyes and Ky hesitated, for a moment he wanted to make peace with his brother, for a moment he remembered their childhood. But in the next instant the look in Rhoyan’s eyes hardened, and Ky was shocked by the look of hatred and triumph he saw there. Something within him suddenly wanted to run back and wrest the crown away from his brother by force. He raged within himself and finally he gripped the handle of the door. He stepped through the doorway and was free.

  Ky fell to his knees in the forest as real daylight flooded around him. Dappled light warmed his face and the cool breeze rustling through the trees comforted him. He dug his hands into the solid earth beneath him. Master Hobard was there, waiting, and Ky stared up at the old man a look of anguish in his dark eyes.

  “Am I no better than that?” he asked. “Are those thoughts truly inside of me?”

  “I told you the things you would see may not be grounded in reality or truth. Nobody knows how the Corridor works, or why it chooses the things it shows to each person. Every experience is truly unique. The Corridor’s job is to force us to face those darknesses within us, to teach us to overcome them. Though we do not understand it we have seen that the man who comes out at the other end is stronger for having faced his own worst enemy. You faced your darkest side today and you prevailed, you are a boy no longer.”

  “But…” Ky began, but Master Hobard cut him off.

  “The Corridor shows you what is within yourself, no more. It is not the future or the past you struggled with today, merely yourself. What you saw in there today is your own and none can make you speak of it, but be assured of this: the Corridor neither lies nor tells the truth. It merely tells you what it must in order to test your strength.”

  “I understand,” Ky whispered.

  “Good,” Master Hobard said. He helped Ky to his feet. “Come on then, the test of questions awaits you.”

  Ky followed his old teacher, he believed the man had told him the truth about the Corridor, but he could not quite shake the memory of the awful look of hatred and triumph in Rhoyan’s eyes. The worst part about it had been seeing that look on the face of someone so close to him. He could not help but wonder if the Corridor was capable of lying so consistently, or if there was perhaps some truth in all it had shown him.

  Master Hobard led Ky into the great room that had been set up specifically for Ky’s questioning. He was told to sit and he did so. The cool solidness of the chair helped slice through the hazy memories of the Corridor. Ky felt his confidence returning. He knew who these men were, though he could not tell one from the other because they were all masked. The masks did not concern him, however, he was well-prepared for this portion of the test.

  “Ky,” one of the men intoned, “are you ready to face the three questions that we will present to you?”

  “Yes,” his voice rang out strong and true.

  “Good, let the questions begin.”

  “The first question is designed to test your understanding of leadership. As a leader in this country, what do you expect of its people?”

  Ky took a deep breath and closed his eyes, concentrating on the question. After a long pause, he opened his eyes again and looked at each of the questioners in turn.

  “You will forgive me, I hope,” he began, “for taking a moment to think about this question. It is not one to be answered lightly. A leader has a responsibility to those who follow him, and as the son of the king perhaps I shoulder more of that responsibility than most.” Ky took a deep breath and continued, “For my part, I expect the people to take control of their own lives. As a leader, I am merely a guide. Perhaps, to use an old cliché, I am no more than a servant. A leader is not a parent to the people, nor should he ever have absolute authority, under that type of rule no people can prosper. A leader is a symbol, one who is there for the people to turn to, and yet only as strong as the people who follow him. As a leader I would expect my people to be strong, and to be self-reliant, as I would expect no less of myself.”

  There was a quiet discussion among the members. Though Ky may have been nervous about their response, he had no doubts about the answer he had given. This was not some recited page from a book, but something that resonated from his own heart and what he believed about his countrymen. To believe otherwise would be to undo all of his training and experience. If there was one thing of which Ky was certain, it was the pride and love he held for his country and people.

  Finally the head questioner turned to Ky. “Your answer has much impressed this council. The second question is designed to test your knowledge of your country: what is the greatest strength of Llycaelon?”

  “The greatest strength of Llycaelon is its people. Without them, a king is just a man wearing a funny hat and sitting on an uncomfortable chair.”

  The questioner nodded slightly. “Our third question is designed to test your character. I am assuming you have heard of the prophecy of the second son?”

  Ky nodded mutely.

  “What are your thoughts regarding that prophecy?”

  Ky sat in stunned silence. His mind reeled. He had never allowed himself to take the prophecy seriously, thinking of it as though it were a nursery rhyme or a child’s bedtime story. The thought that it would be validated, even in a closed ceremony like this one, had never occurred to him. Perhaps that was the test... perhaps he should just say it was nonsense... but he couldn’t quite laugh it off, not when his rite of passage depended upon his answer.

  The silence was stretching out. He cleared his throat. “Prophecies are not to be taken lightly,” Ky began. “But neither are they to be given too much weight. They are made obscure by design, uttered by men who catch glimpses of possible futures, spoken in riddles to keep them from being misunderstood... I believe it is better not to know anything of the future. But if a prophecy is known, then I believe caution is required. Better to ignore it than to arrogantly assume you understand it fully.”

  The council members conferred once again. Long moments passed. Then the questioner turned back to Ky. “
You have passed this portion of your test. You may retire to your room and rest while we discuss your ranking, Master Hobard will retrieve you when we have made our decision.”

  Ky nodded and turned smartly, striding out of the room. When he reached his chamber within the palace he found himself at a loss. He had prepared himself for everything... except this. This moment of respite within his chambers bewildered him. He sat on his bed and wondered what to do while he waited to be summoned, tracing the white scar on the palm of his right hand absently. His mind was a turmoil of conflicting thoughts and emotions.

  Unforeseen loneliness assailed him and his thoughts turned to his brother. Nobody seemed to know exactly where Rhoyan was or when he would be back. The most anyone seemed to know was that he had been apprenticed to a man named Sheyardin and then he had promptly disappeared and had not been heard from since. Some had even told Ky that Rhoyan was on the apprenticeship that should have been his own.

  How could that be? Why would that be? It could not possibly be that the little brother I have always loved and admired should somehow be a stumbling block to my own future and dreams. What madness is this? If there is a prophecy about me, or about us, why have my own parents been silent? Could the warnings be true? Is it possible that Rhoyan is a danger to me? To Llycaelon? Impossible! And yet...

  Unpleasant memories from his experience inside the Corridor and the things it had shown him crept into his thoughts. He had been shown things that frightened and confused him, and despite Master Hobard’s assurances, Ky could not shake the visions from his memory. He thought about the things both of his apprentice-masters had said about Rhoyan and wondered for the thousandth time if they could possibly be true. Hadn’t the test of questions validated the existence of the prophecy? Or was that part of the test, a test designed to... to what? To determine his loyalty to his brother? To see if he could be swayed by false councillors? The answer he had given couldn’t tell them much, he had been taken off guard, and his answer had been vague. If the prophecy existed, and it was true that his parents intended Rhoyan to be king, Ky wondered what it would mean for him. Rhoyan would make a good king, he had always been just and kind and strong, but what Ky had grown to know, and had been trained to learn, was how difficult it may be for him, the rightful heir by any measure, to hand the crown over to his younger brother.

  Above all other things, Ky hated to be second-best at anything. He wondered how his dignity would handle such a heavy blow. He was shaken out of his thoughts by a knock at his door. It was time to return and receive his rank and choose his new name. He shook his head to clear it and stood, his fears and worries had no basis, and he could do nothing about them now anyway.

  He turned his focus to the task at hand, concentrating all of his energy on the next and final part of his passage. It was merely ceremony now, though it would be a solemn affair.

  Hobard led Ky back into the chamber of questions where all of Ky’s teachers had assembled and were waiting for him along with the king and queen. Ky was told to stand in the center of the room and face the questioner. Some of the questions would be directed at Ky, while others would be directed at those who had known him throughout his life. The questioner was to be someone who did not know Ky except from afar. In this case, it was the captain of the aethalons, a famous Aetoli warrior that Ky had always respected.

  Ky stood at attention to face the questioner, who was masked in order to symbolize impartiality. The prince stood straight and tall in a manner that belied the long, sleepless night he had just spent. The questioner gazed at him impassively, and then he stared at each of the others in turn.

  “Let the candidate state his name and age,” the questioner intoned,

  “My name is Ky of the House of Arne, son of King Stiorne and Queen Fiora,” Ky said, his own voice sounding much too loud in his own ears. “I have seen the seasons come full cycle thirty-six times since my birth.”

  “He is young to face this passage, is he not?” the questioner asked King Stiorne.

  “He is young,” King Stiorne agreed. “But here in this chamber we judge a man by his worth, his courage, his skill, and his character; not by his age. Ky has proven himself in each of these things, and we believe he is worthy to enter the ranks of the aethalons.”

  “Well said,” the questioner said mildly. “Lord Nills! Ky was first apprenticed to you, what caused him to petition for a change?”

  Ky tensed, wondering what his former master would say in response to the loaded question. He did not turn to look at the man, that was strictly forbidden. Ky did not allow any of his thoughts to show outwardly, but his heart began to race and his breath quickened slightly in fear as the nobleman began to speak.

  “We had a disagreement about politics,” Lord Nills replied smoothly, “the prince and I could not see eye to eye and it was affecting his training.”

  Ky relaxed, that was, by most rules, a perfectly acceptable response, and true - to a point. He wished he could thank his former teacher but he stood still and kept his eyes firmly fixed on the front of the room. The questioner turned his attention to Sir Bors.

  “What have you to say about your apprentice?”

  Bors replied, “Ky has been the best apprentice I have ever trained. His commitment to his studies and his training is more intense than any I have ever encountered. He never makes a mistake more than once. There is nothing more I can teach him when it comes to weapons or horsemanship. He has far exceeded every expectation I had, and I feel he has more than earned the right to become his own master.”

  The questioner turned to the queen. “You are here as the one who has nurtured this young man, you are closest to his emotions and feelings. What do you see in your son?”

  Fiora glanced at Ky. There was warmth and pride in her eyes as she responded to the question, “There is strength and courage both in my son. I see in him a fierce loyalty to his family. I see pride and love in his heart for this land and its people. I watched him grow from a child to a man, and I could not be more proud of him. As a child, he demonstrated qualities of loyalty, love, and chivalry as he safeguarded his younger brother. As a young man, he devoted himself to his training and has excelled through every challenge he has faced. His courage and honor, combined with his devotion and love for his family and country, have surely won him the right to take his place among men.”

  The questioner nodded. “You who are here have been called to witness. You are the ones who have known this man since his childhood. If any can give reason for this test to find Ky unworthy of passage, speak now.”

  Ky tensed, this was the worst part of the test. He did not know of anyone who might call him unworthy, but still he worried, who wouldn’t?

  For a moment there was dead silence. No one spoke. Ky held himself rigidly, fearing the worst, every muscle in his body felt as though they were tied in knots.

  Finally the questioner nodded. “So be it.”

  Then the questioner turned, finally, to Ky. “Young prince,” he said, “your teachers and those in authority over you have proclaimed you worthy to become a full-fledged member of the aethalons. How do you propose to accept this great responsibility?”

  Ky responded without hesitation, “With deep gratitude.”

  “And how do you propose to live your life?”

  “With truth and honor.”

  “And how will you raise your sword and use the weapons that you have been trained in?”

  “To defend the defenseless.”

  “And how will you serve your king and country?”

  “By remaining true to my Oath.”

  “And what will you call yourself as you journey into this next phase of your life?”

  Now Ky allowed a grin to spread across his face. “I name myself, Seamas.” It was not a name he had gotten from the Corridor, but now that he thought about it perhaps the Corridor had something to do with his choice after all.

  The king came forward quietly and stood in f
ront of his son. “You who were once Ky have now named yourself Seamas,” the king said quietly in the words of tradition. “Do you understand the meaning of the name that you have chosen for yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  “Very well then, Ky,” King Stiorne said with a broad grin, “henceforth shall you be known as Seamas. May you bear this name you have chosen with truth and honor.”

  Ky, now Seamas, bowed his head. “With truth and honor,” he whispered hoarsely as the full weight of this, the end of his rite of passage, fell heavily upon his shoulders, making it almost impossible for him to speak.

  “Hand me your sword,” King Stiorne said quietly.

  Ky knelt and offered his sword, hilt first, to his father. The king took the sword and touched Ky’s shoulders lightly with the blade.

  “Rise, Seamas of the House of Arne, I bestow upon you the rank of Aetoli.”

  There was a smattering of applause among the masked members of the ceremony. Some even broke protocol and called out loud, “Congratulations!” Seamas stared at his father in disbelief. Aetoli was the highest rank an aethalon could hope to attain. As far as Seamas knew, it had never been granted at a rite of passage before. Stiorne’s expression quivered, and then pride beamed across his face.

  “Always remember to bear yourself according to the honor of your new rank and carry your sword with pride.”

  Seamas stood and took his sword back. He sheathed the great blade, intending to turn and bow to those present, but before he had a chance he found himself enclosed in the tight embrace of his father.

  “It was a unanimous decision, even though there was no precedent for it. I am so proud of you,” Stiorne whispered.

  Seamas felt as though he might burst with pride. The aethalons in the room began to remove their masks as they stepped forward to congratulate him and welcome him into their ranks, receiving him with open arms.

  ❖ ❖ ❖

  Night fell long before Rhoyan reached land, so he maintained his course estimating that he would reach landfall shortly before daybreak. He would then see about gaining passage on a ship. He could hire on as a sailor. Once again, he silently thanked Captain Delmar, without whom he would not have such an option.