Fire Sower

by Callie Kanno

  The most striking thing about him, though, was the expression on his face. Idris instinctively felt that the king was a man of action, and not one to be trifled with. King Nikolas radiated energy and spirit, just as Idris had imagined a warrior king would.

  Idris tried to match the expressions he saw on the faces of Aherin and Hildar. He hoped that his own face didn’t betray how uncomfortable he felt when surrounded by such regal persons. It all seemed like a dream—one that was bound to go wrong. He was nothing but a farmer. It did not seem possible that he would be honored to be in the same room as the king of Calaris. Part of him wondered if they would realize that he had no right to be there and would throw him out onto the street.

  When the Royal Guard reached the golden dais they each lowered themselves to one knee, and Idris hastened to follow their example. The end of his partisan banged noisily against the floor as he did so, and he felt his face grow hot with embarrassment.

  King Nikolas acted as though he hadn’t noticed the jarring sound and continued to look serene and royal.

  “Well, Cowan,” he said in a ringing voice, “I see you have brought some new faces with you.”

  “Yes, your majesty,” Cowan replied simply.

  “It has been three years since you last presented me with a new Royal Guard,” King Nikolas continued. “Before that there had been no new Royal Guards since the reign of my father. Yet now you bring before me three new members.”

  “Yes, your majesty.”

  “Think you that such an increase in numbers bears an ill omen?” inquired the king.

  Cowan seemed to consider his words carefully. “I believe that it is a good thing to gain new Guards, lest you only be protected by old soldiers such as myself.”

  Nikolas laughed heartily, and his nobles were quick to chuckle in imitation.

  “You have been protecting me since I was a boy,” the king said to Cowan with a kindly expression. “I have no doubt that you are just as able now as you were then.”

  “Your majesty is generous to say so,” the captain replied humbly.

  King Nikolas’s eyes rested on the new recruits and Idris quickly averted his own gaze. He stared at the floor as he listened to the ruler of Calaris go on with his questions.

  “What do you think of the potential of these new Royal Guards?”

  Again, Cowan seemed to think over his words before answering. “They are an unusual group, but they bear promise.”

  “Bring them forward,” commanded the king, “and let me appraise them myself.”

  Idris glanced out of the corner of his eye, watching Hildar and Aherin to get some idea of what was expected of him. They got to their feet, and so Idris did the same. The three of them walked around their superiors to stand next to Cowan before the king.

  The captain of the Royal Guards gestured to Aherin, who went down on one knee and bowed his head before the monarch.

  “This is Aherin, son of Dins, son of Tyll. He is a native of Marath and the son of soldiers. He bears the bow Liuz, last wielded by Corinne of Taana.”

  King Nikolas nodded. “Yes, I know Captain Dins well. I expect great things from his son.”

  Aherin did not respond at all, nor did he stand again once his introduction was over. Idris took note of this and was relieved that he would not be expected to speak.

  Another gesture from Cowan brought Hildar down next to Aherin, bowing on one knee.

  “This is Hildar, daughter of Lord Wythe, Duke of the Hazelwood Province. She bears the dagger Savion, last wielded by Domarre the Corruptor.”

  “Yes, I thought I recognized her face,” mused the king. “I hope she can overcome the dark history behind that weapon.”

  Cowan waved his hand for the last time, and Idris moved to bow next to his comrades. This time he remembered to shift his partisan so the end didn’t hit the ground.

  “Finally, this is Idris, son of Cadell, son of Garan. He is a native of Rest Stone Valley, in the Hills Province. He bears the partisan Iona, last wielded by Marlais Dragonspear.”

  A murmur ran through the room.

  Idris had his head bowed, and so he was unable to see the expression on the king’s face. However, his voice seemed thoughtful as he spoke to the captain of the Royal Guard.

  “Perhaps it has been too long since my lessons as a lad, but I do not recall Rest Stone Valley.”

  Cowan’s low voice rumbled a reply. “It is just west of the Fenn Province. It is a community of farmers, primarily.”

  The silence the followed was profound, and it made Idris feel awkward. If he could only see the king’s face, perhaps he could surmise what was about to happen.

  King Nikolas finally spoke in a tone of quiet disbelief. “A farmer? A farmer is to wield the most powerful weapon in the history of Calaris—a weapon that has acknowledged no master since the man for whom it was made?”

  The discomfort that Idris felt was rapidly becoming a deep desire to sink into the floor and disappear forever.

  Part of him had known this would happen. What in the world had convinced him that he belonged among elite soldiers and royalty?

  Idris glanced up at Cowan, hoping to get some sort of signal to withdraw from the king’s presence. He wanted to get as far away from that room as possible. Unfortunately, Cowan’s eyes were fixed on the king and he did not see Idris’s silent plea.

  “Yes, your majesty.”

  The silence stretched onward until it was painful.

  “Well,” came a feminine voice that was both sweet and strong, “it seems we have much to look forward to.”

  Idris looked up to see who his mysterious patroness was. All eyes had turned to the woman, so it was not difficult to identify her.

  She was quite tall for a woman, almost as tall as the king. She was a foreigner, with hair the color of ripe corn and eyes the clear blue of a summer day. While she was clearly a beautiful woman, her inner strength was so apparent on her face that it eclipsed everything else. She was dressed in a silk robe of gold-embroidered green, and she wore a headdress that was more magnificent than any other noble’s.

  A sharp nudge from Hildar brought Idris’s thoughts back into focus.

  “Eyes to the ground, you fool,” she hissed at him.

  Idris snapped his head back to a respectful bow, hoping desperately that no one else had noticed him staring like a bumpkin.

  “The queen is correct,” said King Nikolas after a moment or two. “Our future holds interesting possibilities.”

  The king must have made some kind of gesture, because there was suddenly a flurry of movement around the three newest members of the Royal Guard. Idris followed Aherin and Hildar in rising to his feet, and he found that he was surrounded by several court officials.

  One of the court officials was writing. Idris thought that perhaps he was recording the proceedings. Another appeared to be sketching the event onto a large piece of paper. Two more officials were standing at the foot of the dais as attendants to the king, and three others had moved to stand behind Idris and the two other new recruits. A man stood before Aherin, and began speaking. It took Idris a moment to realize that the man was leading Aherin through taking the oath of loyalty.

  When it was Idris’s turn to take the oath, he spoke with as much confidence as he could muster. He could hardly believe that he was still standing there, but as he spoke he found that he meant every word he said.

  “I, Idris, son of Cadell, son of Garan, stand before the throne of kings of my own free will and accord. I face my ruler, King Nikolas the Bold, and pledge to him eternal loyalty and fidelity. No word is higher than that of the king, and all his wishes will be obeyed. I will place his life and the lives of his heirs above my own. This oath I give will end only with my life, and the service I swear will be given with every breath of my body.”

  Idris was the last to give this oath, and when he did a cheer arose from the gathered nobility. King Nikolas looked quite pleased with his new Guards, and his chest puffed out as he stood t
o welcome them to his service.

  Idris caught a glimpse of the queen as she slipped through a back door, and he thought for a moment that she looked unspeakably sad.

  Chapter Nine: Royal Heirs

  With the formality of the oaths out of the way, the king became almost jovial. He stepped down from the dais and clapped Cowan on the shoulder, speaking to him like an old friend.

  Drusi motioned that the new members of the Royal Guard should return to their position at the back of the group, and Idris was only too happy to comply. He didn’t want to draw any attention to himself, especially after his suitability had been so publicly called into question.

  King Nikolas and Cowan exited the throne room out the same door that the queen had passed through, and the rest of the Royal Guard followed. It led to a narrow passageway and then to a door that seemed to be made of the same material as the doors in the quarters of the Royal Guard.

  “Each member of the royal family has some sort of magical talisman that allows them through this door,” explained Demas in a whisper. “Everyone else must go around to the other entrance, through extensive security. The members of the Royal Guard may only enter the royal chambers if there is danger or if they are invited.”

  Idris was not certain what to expect of royal chambers, but his imagination would have failed him regardless.

  The opulence of the throne room seemed positively commonplace compared to the series of rooms that housed the royal family. The walls were not plated in gold, but there was an abundance of riches in other forms.

  Priceless rugs carpeted the floor and dozens of chandeliers lent a twinkling light to the rooms. Rich fabrics beaded with jewels were draped around the windows through which Idris glimpsed a beautiful garden. Every corner and alcove that Idris saw seemed to be filled with beautiful pieces of art, and the walls were covered with tapestries and paintings. A curved staircase led to an upper level that appeared to be some sort of study or library, and there were a handful of doors that Idris assumed led to other rooms just as beautiful as this one.

  Idris tried his best not to stare, but the amused expression on Hildar’s face told him that he was not succeeding in acting casual. With a flushed face, Idris fixed his eyes on Cowan and ignored his surroundings.

  “It is our hope that you will never need to protect these rooms from external dangers,” Cowan said in his growly voice, “but you need to be familiar with them in the event that you do.”

  He pointed to a gold-plated door on the wall to the right of the door they’d entered through. “That is the main entrance to these chambers. Outside it is an antechamber where there is usually a Royal Guard on duty at all times, as well as two palace guards. Today there are four palace guards instead. Beyond that, there is an audience room where there are always at least six guards as well as carefully selected servants and the king’s personal secretary. The door to these chambers is specially reinforced for strength, and it can be barred from within. The only other way to gain entrance is through the side door that we entered, which is protected by magic, or through the door that leads to the private royal garden. That door is also protected by magic.”

  Idris glanced at the door indicated by Cowan. It was set within one of the large windows on the wall opposite of the golden door. It looked rather delicate, with a multitude of small panes of glass set into the swirling design. Upon closer inspection, Idris could see that the door was not wrought iron, as he had first assumed. Instead, it was the same shimmering stone as the other magical doors that required a talisman to pass through.

  “The gardens are carefully guarded by palace soldiers,” Cowan went on, “and there are other security measures in place to keep it safe from intruders.”

  “What kind of measures?” asked Aherin.

  The captain of the Royal Guard waved a hand dismissively. “A hedge of blood vines around the perimeter, among other things.”

  Idris suppressed a shudder. Blood vines were a carnivorous plant that grew in the wilds of Calaris. He remembered as a boy there had been a small vine found at the edge of Rest Stone Valley. It had devoured several grazing sheep before the farmers had been able to kill the resilient plant.

  “Does that not place the guards and royal family in danger?” Idris blurted out.

  “It is kept under tight control and fed regularly to keep it content to stay in place,” Cowan explained. “There is also a barrier between the hedge and the rest of the garden to keep the children away.”

  “Speaking of my children,” said King Nikolas with a broad gesture toward the door closest to the entrance.

  The queen had appeared with three young children in tow. The older two were boys and the youngest was a girl. They were all dressed in fine but simple clothes and looked slightly rumpled, as though they had recently been wrestling with each other.

  “Queen Arminell, of course,” the king said in casual introduction.

  She inclined her head graciously, and there was no sign of the sadness that Idris had thought he’d seen earlier.

  “There you see Crown Prince Nikolas II,” the king continued.

  The boy appeared to be about nine years old, and he was as fair as his mother. He wore his blonde hair in a style that imitated his father, and his expression was an attempt to show the same spirited confidence as the king.

  “Next to him is Prince Aribold.”

  The prince was a copy of his brother, and only about a year younger. His expression was bored and arrogant as he looked over the newest members of the Royal Guard.

  “And that one is Princess Zorina,” King Nikolas said in a tone that was almost dismissive.

  The girl was about six years old, by Idris’s estimate. She had her father’s auburn hair and her eyes were a dark green. Other than her coloring, though, she looked like a miniature version of her mother. She grasped Queen Arminell’s hand and stared at the strangers with open curiosity.

  “Most of your time for the first year will be spent training,” Cowan explained, “but there are certain duties that are required of all members of the Royal Guard during times when the royal family leaves the Water Palace. Any time they leave, we go with them. Their safety is our first priority. Each member of the royal family has a specific Guard assigned to them. And now that we have three new recruits, our numbers will allow for two Guards for each member of the family.”

  All of the Royal Guard were now listening intently as their new assignments were given.

  “Drusi and I will continue to protect the king,” Cowan said, “just as Jerin and Roth will continue to guard the crown prince.”

  He turned to King Nikolas and bowed humbly. “If that is acceptable to you, sire.”

  The king nodded his approval and the assignments went on.

  “Palti will join Farah in guarding Queen Arminell, and Demas will begin guarding Prince Aribold.”

  Cowan paused as he considered the newest members of the Royal Guard.

  “It is probably best to have Hildar assigned to Princess Zorina, as there will be times when the princess will desire privacy from the presence of men.”

  The queen nodded her agreement. “I appreciate your forethought, Captain. I am sure my daughter will come to appreciate it, too. Might I make a suggestion?”

  Cowan bowed again. “Of course, your majesty.”

  Arminell fixed her clear blue eyes on Idris with a small smile. “Why not have Idris as the second Guard for Zorina?”

  Idris’s eyes widened and he forgot to maintain his respectful silence. “Me, your majesty?”

  Hildar glared at him so fiercely that he immediately regretted speaking at all, but the queen seemed unbothered.

  “Yes, I think that would be best.”

  King Nikolas nodded as well. “Yes, let the farmer guard the princess.”

  The king’s tone was very different from his wife’s, and it left Idris wondering why Arminell wanted him to guard her daughter. It was apparent that Nikolas thought it a good way to dispense of the lesser ta
lent, but the queen looked strangely confident as she smiled at Idris.

  “If that is the wish of the king and queen,” agreed Cowan. “Aherin will join Demas in guarding Prince Aribold.”

  The experienced members of the Royal Guard all bowed to indicate their acceptance of their assignments, and Idris automatically followed their example.

  “If that is all,” the king said with a wave of his hand, “you may go back to your individual tasks. Cowan, I wish to speak with you.”

  Everyone bowed out of the king’s presence. Idris started to do the same, but Drusi indicated that Idris and his companions were to stay with her.

  King Nikolas gestured to Cowan, and the two of them walked up the staircase to speak privately on the upper level. Drusi went on with instructions for the recruits.

  She pointed to the door from which the queen and the royal heirs had made their entrance. “That door leads to the nursery, and the rooms of the children branch off from there.” She then indicated to the two doors farthest from the main entrance. “The king’s chambers are there, and the queen’s chambers are next to his. They each have a sitting room, a bedroom, and a dressing room. Commit the layout of these chambers to your memory, for the lives of those you have sworn to protect may depend on you being able to navigate them quickly.”

  Drusi’s expression was somber, and the long scar across her face added extra gravity to her words.

  She turned and walked back through the magical door that had brought them from the throne room. She paused once she was in the narrow passageway.

  “If you follow the path down those stairs,” she said, pointing away into the darkness, “you will eventually find yourself in the sleeping quarters for the Royal Guard. We have a direct path to the royal family, and, likewise, they have a direct path to us. The children have been instructed to make their way to our quarters in the event of an attack on the palace. If an alarm sounds, you are to gather your designated member of the royal family and take them to safety. You are not to deviate from that objective for any reason.”