Thornbear (Book 1)

by Michael G. Manning

  “No,” said his friend, wiping at his face. “Shut up. You’re my best friend. I thought you were dying.”

  Gram mumbled something unintelligible. His throat was thick and made it difficult to speak.

  “What?” asked Matthew.

  He swallowed and tried again, “I said, ‘the armor is really cool’.”

  Matthew laughed, “Yeah, it is, isn’t it? Your plan to lure Chel’strathek over here by letting him blast you at close range was pretty cool too.”

  “Now you’re just being a smartass.”

  “Yeah,” said his friend with a smile. “I am. That was the stupidest thing I think I’ve ever seen.”

  Gram wanted to laugh too, but his body wasn’t quite up for it. “Can I sit up now?”

  “Not yet. Your right arm is still dislocated and you have torn muscles in several places. Let me fix those and then maybe I’ll let you have the use of your body again.”

  ***

  Matthew called his dragon, Desacus, back and healed his leg before they mounted to leave. Gram looked at him skeptically.

  “The two of us will be too much for him,” he said. The dragon didn’t look capable of carrying more than one rider.

  Matthew put a hand on his shoulder, “I’ll make us lighter, don’t worry.”

  “Every time you say ‘don’t worry’ I later decide that I should have worried,” said Gram.

  “You sound like an old woman.”

  There’s a reason old women live to be old, thought Gram, but he refrained from arguing further. Soon they were winging their way back toward Cameron Castle.

  “You said Moira was with Grace and Irene…”

  “When Dad got Elaine’s message, he left immediately. Moira and I brought the others back in the flying machine, but it took us longer. Once we reached the castle we had nothing to do, and Dad hadn’t come back, so we took matters into our own hands.”

  “I didn’t know he had given you the dragons,” said Gram.

  Matthew smiled. “He hadn’t. But he had shown them to us. He was planning to wait until we were much older.”

  “Then how?”

  “We broke in,” said his friend. “Mom was attuned for the door to the egg chamber and I already knew the key to the stasis lock.”

  Gram just shook his head.

  “After that, we took the dragons and flew to the house, but there was no one there and the house itself was nothing but charred timbers. We split up and began searching. Moira found Grace and sent me a message, so I headed for the same area, but instead of them I found you. Mom is probably still searching, since she couldn’t hear Moira’s message.” He tapped his temple.

  “The night before this,” said Gram, “I saw your father fighting Celior.”

  “Then maybe he’s already back at the castle,” said Matthew.

  “I don’t think he won.”

  “Dad wouldn’t lose,” said the young wizard. “He’s beaten far worse.”

  “Celior was waiting for him. I think he caught him by surprise.”

  “He wouldn’t lose, Gram.”

  “But…”

  “Just shut up,” said Matthew. “He’ll be there when we get back.”

  I hope so, thought Gram.

  ***

  When they arrived at Cameron, many hours later, they found that neither the Count nor the Countess was there. Moira had returned with Grace and Irene and was waiting worriedly for them.

  Gram’s family was glad to see him.

  Rose’s hand covered her mouth when she saw what he looked like.

  Carissa was more direct, “What happened to you?!” She ran to him, flinging her arms around him and sending shocks of pain through him from his recently abused ribs.

  “Easy,” he answered, patting her head. “I got pretty banged up.”

  His mother touched his face gingerly, “You have no idea how worried we’ve been.” She glanced at Carissa, “Go fetch your grandmother, quickly.”

  They fussed over him, and put him to bed almost immediately. Moira came and double checked her brother’s handiwork, but she found little to complain about. Elise Thornbear brewed him a foul tasting tea, ‘to ease the swelling’ she had said.

  Gram accepted their efforts without complaint, though he almost gagged drinking his grandmother’s foul concoction. Soon after that, he fell asleep.

  Chapter 38

  Gram slept a long time, but his rest wasn’t easy. His dreams were haunted by the events of the past week. He saw again the faces of the men he had slain and when he managed to escape those memories, Alyssa came to haunt him, dying repeatedly in his arms. It was almost a relief when he finally awoke.

  “How long have I been in bed?” he asked his grandmother. She sat on a soft chair, close at hand.

  “All last night and most of today,” she replied. “The sun is going back down now.”

  He was surprised. He had thought perhaps it was morning. “Has the Count returned?”

  “The Countess came back late last night. She left again this morning, to search for him again, but he has not been back,” said Elise.

  “But you think he will be back?” he asked hopefully.

  Elise sighed, taking a cloth from a washbasin she approached the bed. “Since you’re awake you can help.” She handed him the wet rag.

  He looked at her curiously.

  “Use it to clean yourself up. I doubt you want your old grandmother doing it.”

  Looking beneath the sheet he could tell that someone had already cleaned most of the blood off. He was glad he hadn’t been awake for that. “He will be back, right?” he repeated.

  “I’m an old woman, Gram,” said Elise. “I’ve sat beside many sickbeds and waited through a hundred long nights, waiting and hoping. Later, when you’re up and around, they’ll talk and make optimistic predictions, but I’ve given up such things.”

  “But…”

  “Mordecai has cheated death many times over,” she continued. “He might return, but I won’t hold out hope for it. I’m grateful enough for what fate has already returned to me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “My grandson,” she said simply.

  They didn’t talk for a while after that. Gram sat up and Elise let him dress himself, but only in loose trousers and a soft tunic. His body was bruised and swollen from head to toe. His mother came in a short while later.

  She studied him with a serious gaze before speaking, “I cannot begin to tell you how proud I am.”

  Those hadn’t been the words he expected. “Momma I…”

  “Shhh,” she said, hushing him. “Let me talk for a bit. Grace has been talking while you slept. She repeated much of what you already told us, though she had a decidedly different point of view.”

  Gram grew worried. He could only imagine what Grace might have said.

  “Matthew told me about your fight with Chel’strathek, and Irene told me even more. Especially concerning Alyssa and your fight with her master,” said Rose.

  He nodded.

  “They’re calling you a hero in the great hall,” she added, “but you mustn’t let such things go to your head.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “Let me see it.”

  “See what?”

  “The sword,” she said simply.

  “Ah…” he answered uncertainly, realizing that Matthew had probably had to relay that part while telling his own story.

  “I’m not angry, Gram,” said his mother. “I’m well past that, and I’ve given you the sword, though I now know you had already taken it. Let me see it with my own eyes.”

  Gram stood and uttered the command that would summon Thorn, calling it out in its broken form.

  “Show me the rest,” she said.

  He used another command and the great sword reformed, becoming whole once more, a dark ruby set in the pommel.

  “Is that what I think?” she asked, gesturing toward the red stone.

  He nodded, his heart aching as he saw
her eyes begin to water. “I picked it up after he died.”

  “I never dreamed…” she said softly. “And you never told me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s long past time for apologies, Son,” she answered. “You’re a man now, no more excuses. Show me the armor.”

  “Tiersen,” he said and the silver scales appeared, flowing over his body and encasing him once more.

  Her eyes widened, tears brimming. Rose stumbled, but Elise caught her.

  Gram dismissed the armor and put his arms around her.

  “You looked just like him,” mumbled Rose.

  ***

  Gram’s family encouraged him to stay in that evening, rather than eat in the great hall, but he declined. He wasn’t looking forward to the stares and attention he might face, but he figured he might as well get it over with.

  When he stepped into the hall the wide room fell silent. Heads turned and people gawked at him. Everyone knew him already, of course, but they stared at him as if he had become a new thing.

  Gram ignored the looks and headed for his customary seat, hoping they would return to their conversations quickly, but that was not to be. Someone stood at one of the lower tables, the one where the majority of the guardsmen sat, Perry Draper.

  “Hail the champion of Cameron Castle!” he said in a loud voice.

  Gram watched him in horror, wondering if it was a joke of some sort, but the rest of the guardsmen stood, quickly, one after another. Perry raised his cup high, “Three cheers for Thornbear!”

  The entire room came to its collective feet then and cheers rang out, followed by clapping and more rousing cries.

  Gram was forced to stand, since it seemed rude to do otherwise, but his mouth refused to give him an adequate response. He stared about him, feeling his face grow hot.

  Lady Rose came to her son’s rescue. “Thank you, everyone. My son is honored by your cheers, but I fear he is still fatigued from his ordeal. Please sit. Let him eat in peace.”

  There were nods and a few more cheers but the crowd finally settled and people took their seats again. Gram looked at the seats around him. Of the Count’s family, only Conall was present. Moira and Matthew had left early, along with the Countess, to search for their father. He wasn’t sure where Irene was, but he imagined she had probably elected to dine in the family apartments, to avoid the same attention.

  Carissa gave him a sympathetic look from the same seat that Alyssa had once used. “Bear up, Gram. It won’t last forever, but you deserve the praise.”

  A second silence fell over the room and people began to stand again. Penelope Illeniel stood in the doorway, flanked by her two oldest children.

  It was customary to stand until the Count and Countess had taken their seats, but Penny seemed disinclined to do so. Instead she moved to stand in front of the center of the high table, as though she would address the gathering. Matthew and Moira moved to stand on either side of her.

  All three of them had obviously just returned. The twins wore supple riding leathers, while the Countess herself was still armored, wearing the enchanted mail her husband had long ago crafted for her. Her sword was still belted at her side, which was even more unusual. She removed the metal cap from her head and set it heavily on the table behind her.

  She was sweaty and red from a day in the sun, and her braids had fallen to frame her face, making her look like some poet’s version of a warrior-princess. She waved her hand at him, “Gram Thornbear, come stand before me.”

  Shit.

  He did as he was told, feeling awkward as he rose from his chair and walked across to stand where she had indicated. “Yes, Your Excellency?”

  The Countess raised her eyes, taking in the room as she spoke, “I have spent the day searching, and when I was not involved in that endeavor, I was with my daughter, making sure she would recover. Because of that, I have not had time to talk to you regarding your actions over the past week.”

  She wants to talk about it? Here?!

  “Your Excellency, if you like, I would be happy to answer any questions you have, but I would prefer not to…”

  “Silence,” she commanded. “You will speak when I have finished.”

  “Yes, milady.” Gram heard light laughter coming from the crowd.

  “My youngest daughter has spoken highly of you regarding her rescue. I have also taken counsel with my oldest son and daughter, and both of them agree that you behaved in a fashion that has made you worthy of high honor here in this hall. Even more telling was the story relayed by my daughter’s companion, Grace.” Penny stepped forward then, placing her hands on his shoulders and looking into his eyes. She leaned close and kissed him once on each cheek.

  “Thank you, Gram, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. If it weren’t for you I would have lost my daughter. That is a debt I will never be able to repay. If my husband was here he would thank you as well.”

  She embraced him then, while Gram stared wildly at Matthew and Moira, uncertain what he should do.

  The Countess pushed him back then, holding him at arm’s length before releasing him. “Kneel, Thornbear.”

  What? Gram’s confusion was growing, but he did as he was told. He watched in horror as she drew her sword and he realized what she was about to do. “Wait! I’m not old enough. I haven’t even…”

  Penny gave him a stern glance and Gram closed his mouth.

  “For your service, your loyalty, and your bravery, I will see you knighted. Do you object?”

  He kept his gaze on the floor, “I am not worthy, Your Excellency.”

  She smiled, “Fortunately, it is not your place to judge.”

  Matthew leaned in and whispered something in his mother’s ear. She nodded and sheathed her sword again.

  Matthew addressed Gram, holding out his hands, “Your sword, please.”

  “I don’t have… oh.” Gram called Thorn, making certain to summon it in its whole form. He offered the great sword’s hilt to his friend. Matthew then passed it to his mother.

  Penny spoke once more, holding Thorn with its point toward the ceiling, “The sword is a symbol of a knight’s troth and trust, of his enduring fealty to his liege. The Knights of Stone were created to serve both this house, and the best interests of humanity itself. Will you swear fealty to me and my husband, the Count di’ Cameron?”

  “I so swear, Your Excellency,” answered Gram.

  “Then by the power I hold in trust as Lady of Cameron, Countess and servant of the Queen of Lothion, I dub thee knight,” said Penelope. She brought the tip of the sword down to rest on one shoulder before lifting it and touching the other. “Rise Sir Gram and take up your sword.” She reversed the blade and held Thorn’s hilt toward him.

  As he took it, she continued, “You father would be proud of you, Sir Gram, and his father as well, whose name you carry. May you ever wield Thorn in justice and for the protection of the weak.”

  Gram placed the point against the floor, holding the great sword by the ricasso, just below the quillons. “I will spend my life for that purpose, my lady.”

  A large hand descended on his shoulders. “Stand, Sir Gram.” Cyhan was behind him, dressed in his armor and formal regalia, as Grandmaster of the Order of Stone. It was something Gram had rarely seen, and he hadn’t even noticed the big knight’s approach.

  Sir Cyhan bent down behind him, buckling gilt spurs onto Gram’s boots, the final symbol of knighthood. Then he stood and delivered a powerful blow to Gram’s shoulders, the traditional ‘buffet’. “Welcome brother knight,” said Cyhan before embracing him.

  The hug, coming from a man that never showed emotion, undid him. Unable to help himself, Gram wept, while the hall cheered once more.

  The Countess wasn’t finished, however. “Sir Gram, your service has left me in your debt. Is there anything you would ask of me? I will grant any boon, if I am able.”

  Wiping at his eyes Gram thought for a moment. In his mind, being knighted was more than enou
gh of a reward, but there was one thing that had weighed on his mind. “If it isn’t too much, I would like to recover Alyssa’s body.”

  Penelope nodded, “Tomorrow you will ride with me. Layla will take us.”

  “Layla?”

  “My dragon.”

  Chapter 39

  Cyhan stayed close to him when he left the hall after the meal. It was obvious he wanted to talk, but it was a while before Gram could escape from the numerous well-wishers who followed him. It seemed as though everyone in the castle wanted to shake his hand, or give him advice.

  “Excuse our newest knight,” said Cyhan, “but I need to discuss some matters with him.”

  He cut through the crowd like a ship through a storm, extracting a grateful Gram from their well-meaning chatter.

  “Let’s get some air,” suggested the older warrior.

  The breeze in the courtyard was cool. The sun had already retired, leaving the moon to provide most of their illumination. They walked to the gatehouse and ascended to the walls. The parapets provided an excellent walkway, showing the town of Washbrook beneath them in monochrome hues.

  Without preamble the senior knight began, “Grace told me that their leader’s name was ‘T’lar’.”

  “There’s more,” said Gram. “Did she tell you what else he said?”

  “That he claimed to know me,” replied Cyhan.

  “He said your name was Arzam, and that he was your brother.”

  “Grace told me that much,” responded Cyhan in a neutral tone.

  Gram watched his face, hoping for some sign of confirmation, or denial, but there was nothing. “He also said you were a traitor.”

  There was a flicker then, but it was gone so quickly Gram almost wondered if he had imagined it. “Tell me the rest.”

  “Alyssa, her name turned out to be Jasmine, she called him ‘zaihair’. He said he was her teacher, and he offered to take me as his student. He said some other things too…” Gram had difficulty figuring out how to frame the rest.

  “What?”

  “He said she was your daughter.”

  Cyhan’s response was immediate, “I have never fathered a child.”