by Pam Uphoff
"Good grief, Morty, don't you ever stop?" Vonne yawned as she showed up in time to nab the last of his mother's pastries.
"I've got to go back in ten more days. How've you been doing? Novve's sure growing." He stooped to pick up the eight month old crawling by.
Vonne rolled her eyes. "She getting too heavy to carry, and now I've gone and taken again."
Easterly sighed. "I was hoping you'd all put some meat on your bones. Ericka, Nielle and Nabelle, err."
"Yeah. We figure we got sold a bad bunch of herbs. We can't afford the really good factory made potions." She scowled out the window. "Storm coming in, by the look of it. I think I'll stay home today."
It was the first of the winter storms, and a cold one. The third day of freezing temperatures Easterly was able to load up the ice house and slaughtered another calf.
All told, it was a busy visit, as he tried to cram in what he'd usually have spread out over a couple of months. He left a day early, thinking the stage would be slowed, but the roads were clear and hard.
The Army was less work than his family, and he was glad to get back.
Chapter Seven
Winter Solstice1384
Karista, Kingdom of the West
The winter continued cold, with the spectacle of the comets every evening in the freezing clear air. And even after they'd set, shooting stars spangled the nights. According to the newspapers, the danger of a large meteor hitting the World was low.
Easterly decided to trust the odds, and enjoyed his outdoor duty stations when the Royals gave or attended Balls. He was seriously uncomfortable with the inside duties. The gulf between his World and the realities of those glittering men and women seemed not just impassable, but perplexing. What did people like that think?
Or perhaps the gap was an illusion.
The women talked about clothes, cooking and men. The men spoke about politics, horse racing and women. The only difference seemed to be the amount of money they could spend. And the men seemed to have a better grasp of politics than his cousins and uncles. Fortunately.
His day duties now included riding out with the teenage princes. Stave, the Crown Prince's oldest son, heir, eventually, to the Army, was almost fourteen. His half brother, Rebo, heir tertiary to the Crown, just turned twelve. The King's youngest son, Garit, was thirteen. The three of them rubbed along well enough, although Easterly suspected Stave would soon be too old to enjoy much beyond riding with his brother and uncle.
Easterly quickly learned which paths were prone to ice and best avoided on freezing mornings, and which turned into muddy quagmires when the sea breeze warmed the city.
The most important thing to learn was where the Young Ladies rode. It was a bit of a balancing act for Easterly to cater to the older boy without the youngsters getting into trouble. Rebo was not above spooking a lady's mount, for the sheer fun of it.
Deena frequently rode out with Princesses Demitri and Eleganza, and Stave would swap to her group if his aunts had any interesting friends along, while Easterly tried to minimize the younger pair's racing about on icy paths. There were other guards watching at a distance, so Easterly wasn't worried about losing a prince. It was just the possibility of broken necks that kept him on top of them.
Not to mention the weather. More than once a sudden storm front sent them skittering for shelter.
The worst one sent the whole group of princes and princesses to General Rufi Negue's mansion. The various princes and princesses had no compunctions about imposing on the head of the kingdom's military forces and rode straight into his barn to turn the horses over to the grooms, while they hustled into the small parlor with its modern cast iron fireplace radiating heat in all directions.
The old General was sixty-two years of age, but still with the vigor of a man two decades younger. But on this frigid afternoon, he joined his various young relatives in a cup of cocoa near the fire. Stave was trying to look calm while clutching the warm cup. The two Princesses were fervently thanking their uncle for not making them ride another mile in the ice. Rebo gulped his cocoa and slowly stopped shivering. Garit, not much larger, looked hopefully at his Uncle.
"Have you seen your witch daughters lately, sir?"
Deena grinned, and shed her ice coated jacket, and slipped up to the open doorway. Easterly surrendered his great coat to the butler and joined her.
"Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I was up at the magic village just two months ago . . . "
Who'd have thought the most powerful military figure on the world would be a spinner of fairy tales? The kids lapped up the silly tale of one very mean sheep, two witch girls, the boy with the talking horse, a deep mud hole and the five bandits that got turned into purple bunny rabbits. Even Easterly was reduced to giggles as the Very Mean Sheep was rewarded for his bravery by being turned back into a wolf, which was what he'd been before attacking the Wizard's flock, years before.
A half frozen messenger returned with permission for the kids to stay the night, so repeats of previous tales were scattered through dinner. Easterly found himself sleeping in terrifyingly luxurious surroundings. Breakfast was accompanied by the two younger boys competing to remember more of the general's stories, these apparently involving the odd things witches ate for breakfast.
"We've got all the stories written down." Deena murmured. "General Rufi's been entertaining kids with silly stories for decades. Ask any of the Guards for a copy."
He did, and quickly memorized the whole collection. "Someone ought to send this to the printers. Use it for a kid's school book." But not a school book for magicians. If whatever he did was magic, and not coincidence, there were no hints in the book about how to do it. He wrote down the Tale of the Very Mean Sheep, and added it to the collection, as he'd apparently been privileged to hear the first delivery of it.
Guard duties during plays and concerts was difficult; he had trouble keeping his attention focused off the stage. His suggestion that the guards go the day before so as to know when things were going to get noisy garnered him a severe look from Janic, but occasional attendance at dress rehearsals, which he was free to enjoy.
Another brief leave in the spring had him home in time for Splat to give birth to a pretty bay filly he named Bandit. Four of the cousins had new babies; it hadn't slowed them down noticeably.
"This was such a miserable winter, we wouldn't have been able to work anyway." Ericka juggled her new son while keeping an eye on the three year old she'd named Heso. "After the king, not that miserable excuse for a son of Lord Dates. Sue Tyrone and throw him in jail, but when his son was on the paying side, he threatened to horsewhip me."
"I'd say, get a lawyer, except I doubt he promised to marry you, or even support you. What did you name the baby?"
"I thought Rebo, but Vonne stole it, she gave birth first. So I went for Jek, after his uncle."
"Good choice." Easterly figured she was kissing up to the relatives with steady income, but it would be good for both the kid and his parents if any of the kids would take an interest in farming, or at least learn the advantages of working. He set an example by hitching up his old cows and plowing large gardens. The cold winter had set everything back, but now everything was growing like weeds. His mother was planting seed, as, to his surprise, was Erica as he left.
It was a thankfully uneventful summer, complete with enough leave to put up hay in the fall and train a vigorous and quite large filly. She was intelligent and learned quickly, apparently delighted to have someone spend time with her. Easterly contemplated the possibility of actually having a horse in the Guard's barns. "Couple or three years until you're up to that, though."
Time flew.
Chapter Eight
Summer 1385
The following year, Easterly paid a bit more attention to the rotation. The young bloods were split up and sent around to various forts. They served for six months before rotating to the next. The officers of each command evaluated them; caustic comments about egos, arrogance, slacki
ng off, drunkenness and womanizing peppered the majority of the reports.
"Ouch. This sounds like a painful way to find new officers." Easterly passed the latest parcel of reports back to Captain Bricker. He cringed a bit to think of throwing young Staven into that morass, but he was growing up fast, from nice boy to nice young man.
"It's not our only way, but it's a way to get a good gage on the youngsters that are coming along, and not just for the Army. They're getting into ordinary trouble now but it'll be political trouble soon."
Easterly wrinkled his nose. He'd met his home Land Grant holder twice now, briefly. Duke Bois? Never laid eyes on the man. Before he'd joined the Army, they'd both had a right to call him out for service, for protection and in an emergency. That and setting taxes was pretty much the limit of their influence on his life. "I suppose if I'd ever seen a war, I'd feel different. Or had a really bad Duke. As it is, I barely notice politics."
"Except the part we make you memorize?" Bricker grinned. "We're in the summer doldrums. Go home and make hay, so you won't worry so much when the fall social season fires up."
He did so, working with the yearling filly and after hemming and hawing a bit, and hearing that Tyrone had been 'borrowing' her to race, sold Splat to an old guy around the bend in the river who claimed to be breeding racehorses.
He thought about comets and cold winters and tried to double his usual hay storage. It never hurt to have too much hay.
And on quiet nights, out in the far pasture, he could look deep into the heavens and see forever. And then close his eyes and see dim glows of his family, and even the filly. Or maybe he was just imagining them, because he knew about where they all were. Every once in a while he could shove something from maybe ten feet away.
And home or Karista, he couldn't find any information about these occasional outbreaks of magic. Or something. Whatever it was, he could consciously do it once, but then couldn't repeat what he'd just done. Trial and error, and maybe practice, showed that he was good for one trick a day. Not impressive.
He was surprised to find his five years up, and he signed up for another five with barely a thought.
Chapter Nine
Spring 1386
By the time Bandit was two and he rode her proudly back to Karista, Rebo and Garit were outgrowing their mounts.
Staven had an outstanding young stallion, a gift from an uncle. The horse was well suited for the army life the Spear prince was heading toward. Garit and Rebo collaborated on a campaign for new mounts "just like Staven's." The king and the Crown Prince admitted that the boys were outgrowing their current mounts, and sent instructions to the horsemaster.
Easterly had never seen the Crown Stud. Lieutenant Harkon was in charge of the ten man patrol that escorted the Princes to the big horse farm. They rode south for two days, staying in public houses and managed to keep fourteen year old Rebo and fifteen and a half year old Garit out of trouble.
The Royal Horsemaster brought out a fine selection. All were a bit tall for the boys, so they wouldn't outgrow them. All geldings and mares, Easterly noted. Rebo noticed as well and whined about wanting a war stallion.
The Horsemaster suggested that he choose one of the mares, so that he could breed a war stallion of his own, down the road. "Start your own stable of horses, with one of the best mares in the kingdom." The two best mares were closely related, Clowny and Black Magic. The bay mare had a blaze that fell off the side of her face, the black mare had a single speck of white on one pastern.
Rebo's eye lit at the sight of the black mare, and the Horsemaster saddled her up for him to try.
"You're being awfully polite, Young Garit." The horsemaster eyed the other prince.
Garit scrunched up his nose. "Rebo's at an awkward stage or something. If I show an interest in a particular horse, he'll want that one. So I'll wait til he chooses, look envious, and grumpily settle for second best. Perhaps you could saddle Joker? I'll try him first, then Clowny."
Black Magic, despite the over all ominous color, was well mannered and smooth. Just spirited enough to be a bit of a challenge for Rebo. The handsome blond boy looked good on her. He insisted on trying Joker, and stiffened a bit when Garit rode Black Magic. Garit was enthusiastic about the black mare, and was reluctantly persuaded to try the bay mare, and reluctantly conceded that Rebo was right, a mare was a good choice. He winked at the Horsemaster as they rode away the next morning, Rebo on Black Magic and Garit on Clowny.
The first time Garit out-jumped Rebo, the rivalry between them moved from background to foreground. As words flew and came close to blows, the guards started finding ways to keep them apart. By late spring Easterly was ready to crack their heads together, as Garit failed to maintain his cool under all the hectoring, and quickly learned how to turn the tables on his nephew. Staven tried to maintain his near-adult mature attitude, by ignoring both of them. He was increasingly in training, rather than school, and escaped the worst.
Chapter Ten
Summer Solstice1386
Karista, Kingdom of the West
Easterly was on outside roaming security when Captain Carson raised the low level alert.
"Has anyone seem Rebo? Since sundown?" The man looked pissed. It wasn't the first time the prince had slipped out unnoticed.
No one had seen him, and Black Magic was in her stall.
Deena shifted uncertainly. "Dinner conversation covered the museum in Ba'al's temple. Surely he wouldn't go exploring after dark? Rebo was daring Garit, and Garit got that 'what trouble are you trying to get me into this time look.' But I just saw him talking to Prince Mirk. Would Rebo go alone?"
Carson muttered something under his breath. "We'd better check. Six of you, take torches." He counted off Deena, Easterly and four more guards.
They saddled up quickly and trotted down the dark city streets. Ba'al's Temple was six miles from the Palace and they covered it quickly. The legal status of the property was locked up in the courts. General Rufi had removed all the statues of the god as a public menace and refused to explain. Unfortunately the locks on the gates and buildings were obviously failing to keep anyone out. Easterly spotted several spots where the bars were rusted away, not to mention numerous overhanging trees. Sergeant Mailer had come prepared to cut the chain on the main gate to let the troops in, but they were wide open. There was quite a party going on in the museum. The campfire in the center of the room lit a wild scene. Mismatched columns and plinths sported very odd objects, misshapen beasts lurked and a large goat frozen in mid-leap flickered in and out of view from the shadows. Men and women in various states of undress were dancing, chasing each other, and, err, entangled all over the room.
Easterly startled back, then realized the two headed calf one man was humping was dead, stuffed and, err, mounted. As were most of the other oddities, and a number of the people were actually statues. Or museum exhibit manikins. The live people were all quite drunk. Or drugged.
"Look for Rebo. The rest don't matter, until we find him." Lieutenant Faregi kept his voice low. The guards lit their torches, split up and started searching all the dark corners.
Rebo didn't see any need for concealment, though. Easterly spotted him from across the main room and caught Faregi's eye and pointed. They all started converging on the spot where Rebo sported with two other men, and two women. Easterly saw more than he wanted from across the room, and caught the curses when the prince spotted his keepers closing in. Rebo pulled away from the woman on the table, and elbowed the fellow who was right up behind him away. He ducked out of Easterly's sight briefly, but came back up with clothing in hand. The two young men had ducked back also and were working their way around the back of the room. Would Feregi want them? Easterly turned and slipped around toward them. They eyed him, and bolted through the middle of the room, aiming for the entrance. In the firelight their hair shown red-gold, easy to spot in the uncertain light.
"Easterly, Janic, follow them, find out who they are, don't arrest them." Feregi snapped.
He had the woman the prince had been, err, involved with, by the arm, and the rest of guards formed up around them.
Easterly was a couple of strides behind Deena as they ran after the fleeing pair. The young men were fast, but Deena was on their heels until she smacked into a wall. Bandit decided ground tying was optional and trotted up, another horse following her bad example. Easterly detoured to scoop up both horses' reins.
"Dammit! I would have sworn there was a doorway."
"There is. Just to your right." The Moon was just clearing the building behind them. Easterly shook his head, he could nearly see the door, it just needed a shove . . . Deena half fell through and Easterly led Bandit and the extra horse through behind her. Not into the garden Easterly had expected, but rather a moonlit weedy path between a barn and a field of wheat. Behind them, the weathered wall of a tall barn. No marble, no domes of temples showing anywhere.
"What the . . . " Deena shook her head and grabbed the reins he offered her.
They mounted and circled the barn. The two blond men were visible as brief silhouettes as they crested a dark hill. Deena and Easterly sent the horses in pursuit. They kept the speed down in the moonlight and were slowed by a herd of sheep, but they spotted the men dodging onto a track into the forest. Easterly looked up to check the stars. The track was running southeast and they followed. They had to slow even more in the dark, but there was enough moonlight filtering through the trees to show the trail. In a large clearing they spotted the blond men on the far side, still running. Still naked.
"Damn they're fast." Deena booted her horse forward and Easterly followed. East, according to the stars.
Two hours later they admitted they were thoroughly lost.