“So now you’re headed home, are you?” the man asked at length.
“Yes, sir.”
“And you need a ship to get you there, eh?”
“Yes, sir, we do need a boat.”
“Well, the Silver Hydra will take you home then! I wondered if I’d ever get a chance to make good on my offer to take you wherever you needed to go, somehow I had a feeling we would meet again, lad. I’m headed that way myself, that storm yesterday was a fairly rough one and I’ve already told my crew that we’re headed back to Llycaelon to make repairs.”
“Your help will never be forgotten,” Rhoyan said.
“We leave at first light then,” Delmar said in a tone that marked the end of the discussion, his eyes suddenly twinkled as he changed the subject. “Now, Colas, Ina, you might want to run down to the beach and see what I have brought for you and your good mother.”
The little girl clapped her hands with delight and raced out the door, Colas following her closely. Their mother watched them run down to the beach with a fond look in her eyes.
In the morning, they all said their good-byes and rowed their way back to the great ship. The journey back to Llycaelon was to be a short one and Rhoyan was amazed to find out how close to home he was.
“I thought for sure we were still months from Llycaelon!” he exclaimed when Delmar announced that they would be home within two week’s time.
“Well, the weather could still slow us down a bit, but then, we have our good luck charm on board again!” He winked.
“Sheyardin was the reason for our fair winds, not me,” Rhoyan protested.
Delmar looked unconvinced. “So you say.”
Rhoyan took up his old spot, working among the sailors. They were all men with he had grown friendships several years prior to this trip, when he had been a bright-eyed child on his first adventure. He never told them who he really was, he enjoyed being in the company of men who respected him for his skill at handling a boat rather than for the family into which he had been born. He laughed and joked with them and when they had contests to see who could climb to the crow’s nest the fastest, Rhoyan was right there, attempting to break the record with them.
The days wore on and Rhoyan fell into the rhythm of life on the boat. He enjoyed every minute of the voyage. Whenever there was a job that needed to be done, Rhoyan was the first to volunteer, especially if the job included some sort of risk.
“Ah, you’ve turned into a fine sailor,” one of the crew members said to Rhoyan one night as they kept watch together. “It’s good to have you back with us.”
Rhoyan sat against the side of the boat, keeping an eye turned out to the open sea. “Thank you. I truly enjoy it,” he replied, “the testing of my strength every day, the constant struggle to keep the boat headed in the right direction despite the wind and the waves. I guess it’s in my blood, my uncle was a sea captain.”
“You should join us,” the sailor insisted, “Captain Delmar’s the best, he’s never lost a man, and the Silver Hydra, aye, she’s the best boat there is too. She ought to be, Cap’n built her himself.”
“I can’t say the offer’s not tempting. But I have other duties calling me.”
“Aye, I can see that, it’s in your eyes. There’s a love for the sea there too, but that’s what I said to myself when you stepped on board. I said, ‘the boy has become a man, you can see it in his eyes, and he has things to do, a higher purpose than just sailing this boat.’ More’s the pity though, when you sailed with us the first time perhaps you could have been persuaded to join us, but even then you followed a different path. Ah well, I’m telling you though, you’ve had the chance to sail with the best. Captain Delmar, they say he has magic.”
Rhoyan became very interested. “Magic?”
“Oh, not like that,” the sailor said quickly. “Not like wizardry, I mean he has the touch; and the knowledge, he knows this sea better than you know your own home. I’ve seen him sail this ship ‘round rocks that all others would run their ships into, we’ve survived storms no one else could. He’s just that good.”
“In another life, perhaps,” Rhoyan said regretfully, “I would have jumped at the captain’s offer and been content to sail around the world and see everything there is to see. Would that I could make such a decision even now… but no,” Rhoyan sighed. “If only…”
“Land! Land!” the call went up, cutting Rhoyan off mid-thought.
Rhoyan peered off at the horizon. To their starboard side the Dragon’s Eye was just barely beginning to rise above the rim of the sky. The stars were quietly retreating from its brightness, and the sky was beginning to lighten from black to a light shade of gray that would soon give way to turquoise-blue. Then he saw it, directly ahead of them, the dark shore of his homeland and his heart leapt within him to see it again.
“Llycaelon,” the sailor breathed, “home.”
“It has been so long,” Rhoyan murmured, and there was a yearning in his heart that had not surfaced before.
The ship sailed quietly into the harbor in the late afternoon and Rhoyan felt excitement welling up within him. He wondered about his family, he hoped desperately that they were all well. As the ship pulled up to the docks Rhoyan jumped overboard to the utter dismay of his friends. He waded to the shore and clambered up onto dry land, where he stood, dripping, like a king returned. The light of the Dragon’s Eye formed a ring of light around him and his cares fell away from him as he stood there, his dark hair shone and his dark eyes flashed with triumph. Dru stepped out on the dock and hurried after the young prince.
Rhoyan let out a reckless laugh as the thief approached him cautiously. “I’m home, Dru!” he exclaimed suddenly. “Home! Home at last!”
The big man nodded and found that the prince’s enthusiasm was contagious. “Aye,” he said, “that we are.”
Rhoyan threw his arms out and leaned his head back and spun around, glorying in the feel of coming home. Silver glinted and Rhoyan stumbled backwards suddenly, falling to his knees as he tripped in the sand and lost his balance. He stared down in shock at the knife handle protruding from his shoulder. There was no pain yet, for his brain was having a hard time figuring out what had just happened to him.
Dru had his long knife out and he was warily scanning the docks, trying to gauge from where the attack had come. A flash of dark cloak and hood caught his eye and he jumped after it, racing down a crowded street in the harbor town. The man in the dark cloak saw Dru coming and panicked, dashing away from the thief and into the busy market just beyond the docks. Dru lost sight of the man and came to a halt, glowering and grinding his teeth in frustration. Slowly, he turned and made his way back to Rhoyan.
The prince was still sitting where Dru had left him, a dazed expression on his face. Dru knelt before the prince in concern. Before he could say anything a strong hand clamped down on Dru’s shoulder and he half rose, half turned, his knife flashing in the light of the Dragon’s Eye. Before he could complete his turn, however, the hand stopped him. Rhoyan glanced up and saw two figures standing before him, one of them with a vise-like grip on Dru’s shoulder.
“Peace, friend,” a gruff voice said. “We mean you no harm. Come, we must get out of the open, bring the prince.”
Dru did not stop to ask questions. He helped Rhoyan to his feet and the prince followed him quietly. The two figures led the way into the forest to the east of the harbor town. They brought Dru and Rhoyan to a small cabin that Dru recognized as a Hunter’s Refuge. It was one of many such structures that were spread throughout the forest. They were kept well-stocked by those who had need of them. Most of the time, however, they stood empty and were used by hunters and travelers, and occasionally by aethalons in the Border Patrol.
They entered the small house and the two figures removed their dark hoods. Dru found himself standing before a tall man and a slight girl. He studied the two as the girl stepped forward to tend to Rhoyan’s wound. They were both grim-fac
ed and there was an aura of strength and authority about both of them. The girl moved with the grace of a warrior, perhaps an archer, Dru thought, and the tall man wore the insignia of a high-ranking warrior.
With deft movements, the girl pulled the knife from Rhoyan’s shoulder. The prince gritted his teeth, but he did not cry out. The girl let the wound bleed for a moment before pressing a thick cloth to it. She wrapped another cloth around the bandage and sat back, a satisfied look on her face.
“I do not think the blade was poisoned,” she announced.
“Who are you?” Rhoyan asked, after a moment.
The tall man stepped forward. “I am Tobias, Commander of the King’s Helm, and this is Llewana, Aetoli and betrothed of the crown prince, Seamas.”
“Seamas,” Rhoyan mouthed the name, confusion clouding his features.
“Your brother,” Tobias said quietly, “his new name since coming through the Corridor. Yes, Highness, we are aware of your identity,” he responded to Rhoyan’s astonished look. “We have been awaiting your return for several weeks.”
“How...?”
“It’s not important,” Llewana interrupted. “What is important is that you are in danger.”
Rhoyan ignored her words. “I am pleased to meet the one that my brother esteems so highly. I offer you my congratulations on your upcoming marriage.”
Llewana blushed prettily. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“What rank is my brother, how are my parents, what is happening in the kingdom? Why was I attacked? How did you know I was returning? I had no way of sending word...” the questions poured out of his mouth one atop the other.
“Seamas was granted the rank of Aetoli upon emerging from the Corridor,” Llewana’s voice radiated pride.
Rhoyan punched his fist into the air. “Good for him! I knew it! I always said he would be the first to gain that honor. What has he been doing since his rite of passage... oh, I wish I could have been there for that!”
“He created the King’s Helm and led us for several years. But then the king grew ill and Seamas was forced to give up the Helm in favor of taking over his duties as crown prince.”
“My father is ill?” Rhoyan asked in concern.
“Some say he is dying,” Tobias replied.
“No...” Rhoyan peered closely at Tobias. “Some say? You do not believe it?”
“You don’t miss much,” Tobias commented. “No, I do not think it is death the king struggles with, but rather, despair. I am sorry to overwhelm you with ill news, Highness. But your mother went mad over the announcement of your death. She retreated from the living and has not left her apartments since. I believe that losing both his wife and his son was too much for King Stiorne.”
“I was declared dead?” Rhoyan asked. “My family does not know I’m alive?”
“We had not heard anything in so long... your father declared you lost on your apprenticeship. However, a few months ago we began to hear rumors that you had been seen, alive. Your father was showing some improvement, but his physician, Jhasen, has disappeared.”
“Disappeared? Do you have any idea where he is?”
“Nobody has heard from him or seen him. I am beginning to suspect foul play,” Tobias admitted.
“Who would want to kill Jhasen?” Rhoyan asked, truly bewildered.
“The same people who want you dead,” Tobias said grimly.
“Me? Who wants me dead?”
Tobias looked at him sharply. “You honestly do not know?”
Rhoyan shook his head, mystified. “Is there something about this that I ought to know? I have been gone a long time.”
“Too long, perhaps,” Llewana murmured.
“Are you familiar with the words of the prophecy that was spoken to King Tyrus?”
“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never heard what it actually says.”
“I think the time for you to know what it says has come,” Tobias said.
The warrior gazed into Rhoyan’s eyes, darkness welling up in them as though measuring the prince’s worth. Rhoyan stared back at him steadily and it was Tobias whose gaze broke first. The man looked down for a moment as though gathering his thoughts. When he spoke, his words were filled with strength and purpose.
“In waning days of autumn gold
A shadow shall spread across the sky
A banner of darkness here foretold;
Yet a second son that darkness defies.
Born ‘neath the sign of Yorien’s stars
He comes to turn the battle’s tide
Wanderer he, to shores afar
Warrior he, the Eagle’s pride.”
Silence descended upon the group like a heavy fog. Rhoyan sat silently, pondering the words of the prophecy, oblivious to his surroundings. Dru nodded slightly, as if he was familiar with the words of the prophecy, but Rhoyan did not notice.
“I still don’t understand,” Rhoyan said at last. “What does this have to do with me?”
“It has everything to do with you!” Llewana burst out. “Don’t you see? You are the second son!”
“Many believed your father would name you as his heir,” Tobias said quietly, “so that you would be in a position to fulfill the prophecy and save Llycaelon from whatever darkness is coming. You are the first second son that has been born to the House of Arne in a thousand years. Since the prophecy was spoken, your family has dedicated itself to the preservation of its words. The House of Arne has been waiting for you, a second son, to be born so they might break all the laws of tradition and raise that second son to the throne for the good of our people; that he might do as the prophecy foretells.”
“But… the prophecy says nothing about the kingship, or Llycaelon,” Rhoyan sputtered.
“It doesn’t make any difference, can you not understand?” Tobias asked. “It speaks of danger, and no king ever likes to admit that possibility. The family of Arne wants to get the prophecy out of the way. It scares them, don’t you understand? It speaks of darkness and destruction, and the sooner it is fulfilled, the sooner we can all get on with our lives. All these years they have been trying to fulfill the prophecy: ‘Wanderer he to shores afar.’ Why do you think your apprenticeship took you so far from home? You even had the misfortune to be born beneath the constellation Yorien. Whether or not you are the one spoken of, everything has been done to make sure you fit the requirements.”
“So if I’m supposed to fulfill this prophecy, why was I attacked when I stepped onto Llycaelon’s shores?” Rhoyan asked.
“That is the heart of the problem,” Tobias said quietly. “There are those who do not want you on the throne, nobles who support Seamas’ claim over your own. They will do anything to keep you from returning or challenging your brother for the crown. It is said that Seamas has ordered the likes of Lords Nills and Bors to keep you from setting foot in Llycaelon at all costs, which is exactly what they wanted. Men like them will do anything for power, and they have decided that supporting Seamas in this will get them what they want. Seamas is playing right into their hands.”
Rhoyan sat in stunned silence for several moments, trying to take in everything that he had been told. He could not believe it, and yet so much of it seemed to ring true. Grief poured through him in waves and he felt himself beginning to sink beneath its weight. His brother... his own brother...
“Why are you telling us this?” Dru asked suddenly, breaking the silence and pulling Rhoyan back into reality. “Rhoyan, look at who these people are: Seamas’ right-hand man, and his betrothed, why would they betray him like this?”
Rhoyan started at the thief’s voice, and the questions sank into his own mind. He turned to the two warriors with an expectant gaze.
“I am not here to betray Seamas. And I am not here to set Rhoyan on the throne. I am here to make sure that no blood stains Seamas’ soul,” Llewana said. “He has not ordered your death, Rhoyan. In fact, he has adamantly stated that no injury is to befall you.
But he has given power to men with no scruples and they have interpreted his words to mean that they have license to keep you from returning home at any and all cost. It would not be hard for an accident to happen, and what could Seamas do about it? I am here to give you this warning: leave. Go away, far away. Seamas and his counselors will believe me if I tell him you have fled, and Tobias will verify that what I say is true.”
Tobias met Rhoyan’s gaze steadily and Rhoyan saw that the tall warrior was of the same mind as Llewana. For a moment, he faltered. It was not the appeal of the crown that made him hesitate, he had no use for the kingship, nor did he want it. But the idea of leaving his homeland again, of never seeing his parents, of never being reconciled with his brother, these were the things that conflicted within his heart and made him pause.
“My father? My mother? What will they believe? What will my leaving do to them?” Rhoyan asked. “Perhaps I could return home, and leave the throne to Seamas when the time comes for him to ascend to our father’s place.”
“Your life is in danger if you return,” Tobias replied. “Losing you once has all but destroyed the King and Queen. Think what it would do to them if they had to endure that loss again. Think what it would do to Llycaelon if you were assassinated.”
Rhoyan still wavered. “I mean Seamas no harm, surely he understands that,” he protested, but in his heart he began to feel that Tobias and Llewana’s plan was the right one.
Llewana’s eyes were understanding. “It will be hard, but it will also be for the best. Perhaps, some day, you can return home and Seamas will welcome you with all his heart. But for now it is not safe for you here, and it is not safe for him either. There are too many evil men who are bent on your destruction for you to safely stay, even if you had the protection of Seamas himself. I am sorry,” this last bit was said in a faint whisper that Rhoyan had to strain to hear. “I beg you to go. If you are killed by your own people and Seamas learns of it, I only see two paths for him: to mourn and take your death upon his own conscience, or to grow cold and uncaring. I do not wish either of those things for him.”
Second Son (The Minstrel's Song Book 2) Page 26