by CJ Brightley
“I was.”
“Then you’ve seen how the posts were abandoned. So what do we get for our higher taxes then? Nothing! I’m as loyal as the rest, but surely you can see how we need a change.”
I glanced at Hakan, who had his mouth tightly shut, his face very pale. “What would you do if the prince was found?”
It was a bold question, and he didn’t want to answer it, tipping back his mug to gain a moment to think. Finally he said, “I suppose we’d all have to choose, wouldn’t we?”
Hakan’s mouth opened slightly, and I skewered with my eyes to prevent him from speaking.
“No doubt. I’m for the prince if he does turn up. But I suppose we’ll make do with Vidar, at least for now.” I finished my own glass of ale. “Thank you for dinner.” I would have smiled my thanks to his wife, but I didn’t want to frighten her more.
“If you’re short of money you can stay here for the night,” Ursin shifted in his chair.
I raised my eyebrows. “Where?”
He glanced back at his wife, who reddened and moved away from the door.
“She’s frightened of me. We can go.”
“If you like. But you’re welcome in the smithy if that would do.”
I nodded. It would be warm and dry, and no one else would remember our presence. “Thank you. We’ll do that. I want an early start tomorrow.”
We walked back across the street to the smithy and he opened the door for us, leaving it unlocked. I splashed a bit of water on my face from a bucket and wrapped myself in my cloak on the floor near the fire. My boots steamed by the hearth and my feet soaked in the warmth. I was nearly asleep when Hakan spoke.
“Kemen, do you think Vidar will strengthen the army?”
“Aye.” I stifled a yawn.
“Why are you helping me?”
Sleep tugged at my brain. Two nights with no sleep, two and a half days of walking, all in the frigid cold. I spoke with my eyes closed. “I fought under Vidar once, though I didn’t know him well. He’s a good man, or so I thought.” I had to concentrate to form the sentences. “I don’t see why he’d want to have you killed. He has the trust of the people and the respect of the army. If he wanted to influence you, I’d think you’re young enough and smart enough to take his advice.”
I heard him taking off his boots and fumbling with his cloak as I drifted toward sleep in the delicious warmth of the fire.
“I would’ve taken his advice. I don’t understand why I was warned away.”
“Do you know how your father died?” I opened my eyes to see him frowning up at the ceiling.
“No, I suppose not. He’d been sick for years, though. We weren’t close, he didn’t tell me how he was feeling.” He didn’t sound as if he grieved much.
I was nearly asleep when he said, “You didn’t say why you’re helping me.”
Patience. I didn’t snap at him, though I came close. The frustration helped me formulate my thoughts. “Merely having a strong army does not make one a good ruler. Vidar is a decent man, but there is something more here. Either he’s changed, or someone else is threatening you. Either way, it’s underhanded and doesn’t befit a king. You’re young and have much to learn. Nevertheless, I hope you’d put the lives of your people before your own wishes. Unlike your father. Either Vidar is false, or he doesn’t have the grasp on power he thinks he has, and so his honesty means little.” Then I had to think. “Is there anyone else who could be behind the threat?”
He hesitated. “I don’t know. I didn’t like some of his ministers, but I couldn’t accuse them of anything without proof.”
Fair enough. “Then go to sleep. We can’t solve the riddle tonight.”
He sighed and rustled around a bit more, but I was asleep in minutes. Whether he slept after that, I don’t know.
3
I must have been more tired than I realized. I didn’t wake until I heard the door scraping open the next morning. I was on my feet in a moment, but it was only the bellows boy, who watched me cautiously as he edged around the room to approach one of the tables. He left the door open behind himself, and the clear blue light of morning filtered in. I prodded Hakan with my toe before pulling on my boots. They weren’t quite dry, but much better than before.
I turned to the bellows boy, who was apparently hoping I wouldn’t see him as he crept closer to the fire. He froze, staring at me with wide eyes.
“Do you know where I could buy two horses?”
He shook his head. I sat down, hoping that would make me less intimidating, and nudged Hakan again. The boy scurried in front of me and threw the wood in the fire before running off to get more.
“Naoki, get up. It’s time to go.”
He groaned and sat up, rubbing his shoulder. He was probably accustomed to a softer bed. In a moment we were ready. The bellows boy collided with me as we were walking out the door, and I caught him by the arm as he nearly fell, his arms full of firewood. He looked up at me in terror. He was quite young, maybe eight or nine, and I suppose I couldn’t blame him for his fright. I dropped to one knee in front of him, still taller by at least a head but not so towering, keeping a hold on his sleeve so he wouldn’t run before he heard me. “Tell your master Ursin we’re grateful for his hospitality.” He nodded, and I smiled as kindly as I could. “Don’t be so hasty to judge people. I mean you no harm.” I let him go and stood as he scurried around me. Hakan looked at me oddly as we strode away.
We found a stable in town, but by the look of the horses going in and out, we wouldn’t find good quality there. It would be better to walk. Hakan needed a bit of toughening anyway. He’d been complaining most of the day before about his feet hurting.
As we passed the stable, a man stopped in the middle of the street and stared, his eyes on Hakan. I put my hand on Hakan’s shoulder and pushed him along. “Naoki, get on!” My voice was rough and loud.
He nodded, but looked up at me questioningly.
The man strode toward us and I kept my hand from my sword hilt only by conscious effort. He smiled as he drew nearer. “Your Royal Highness was not expected here. Have you just arrived?” His face was open and friendly, and he sounded as though he was trying to speak correctly rather than with the simple farmer’s language that came more naturally to him.
“You’re mistaken, sir. This is my friend Naoki. He’s in training for the kedani.”
The man glanced between us, then addressed Hakan again with a clumsy half-bow. “Your Highness, I saw you once, in Stonehaven. I was there with my friend Curanil. He was taking a petition to the King’s Court of Justice. You attended with your father.” His voice was not loud, but another man passing by had already hesitated and looked back at us.
My stomach tightened with frustration. He seemed friendly enough, but even a friendly rumor could bring Vidar’s men down on our heads.
Hakan frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m from Dorferto, and the closest I’ve ever been to Stonehaven was training last week in Kesterlin.”
I tried to conceal my shock. He’d spoken with a perfect northwestern accent, with the clipped Ts and sharp hard vowels.
Another passerby stopped at the man’s wave and came to stand beside the farmer, who now looked confused, shifting from one foot to the other. “You look very like the prince Hakan Ithel.”
I tried to look bored rather than worried, and Hakan sighed as if irritated.
“Really, we do have to get on. I’m Naoki, I’m from Dorferto, I’ve never been to Stonehaven, and I’m on my way to Darsten for more training.”
“The prince is missing.” The man spoke to his friend, who also looked hard at Hakan.
Hakan nodded. “I heard last night. Good for him.” He smiled quickly before turning to me. “Come on. We’re already late.”
I glanced back at them as we were leaving town. They appeared to be talking to each other, I saw one shrug, and then they walked away together. I couldn’t tell whether that meant their curiosity was satisfied
. Would they tell everyone they saw the prince? Would they believe he was only a soldier in training? I could not guess.
I’d wanted to use the roads as long as we could to speed our travel, but it was risky. Still, Vidar’s men were probably some distance behind us, for I’d seen no sign of any pursuit yet. I took that risk, and perhaps I was foolish.
The road north was well marked and well enough maintained, and we covered quite some distance before noon. The roads were better there near Stonehaven and on some of the major transit routes across the country. They’re a relic from the glorious days of the Second Age, the Golden Era. Some of the oldest and best of the bloodlines for the royal warhorses can be traced to that time, though some younger lines are also quite good. Erdemen history is long and rich; it was my favorite subject in school, even more than fighting.
That winter when I found Hakan, Erdem was entering its fifty-seventh year of the Famine, which began some three hundred years into the Third Age. Of course, not all those years were true famine, but between the famine, the epidemic of plague that cut down half the population, and the resulting lack of labor to bring in the pitiful crops, it was a difficult time. We hadn’t seen an outbreak of plague for over twenty years, and things were getting better. But Erdem’s glory was tarnished. The great roads that crossed the country carried few travelers, trade had dried up like grass in summer, and the exquisitely ornate palace in the great capital of Stonehaven was only partially used.
Any good study of warfare includes a detailed survey and analysis of history. We must understand the past. What other men have done, what the consequences were, what could have been changed or prevented.
I’d nearly forgotten Hakan was with me as I walked happily through the snow thinking of history, turning the great battles of the past over and over in my mind, until I heard the metallic sound of a horse’s bit moving in its bridle. There was no one visible behind us yet, but our tracks betrayed us quite well enough.
“Hakan, go into the woods out of sight and wait. If I don’t find you in an hour, go east through the mountains to Rikuto and seek protection from Tafari.”
If he made it that far. He nodded with wide eyes and started into the woods. I brushed away his tracks with the edge of my cloak and made sure he was out of sight, then ran back along our tracks a little, so it wasn’t quite so obvious that one set of tracks had just disappeared. If they wanted, they could find him in minutes, but I could think of nothing else. I cursed my foolish confidence, thinking the road was safe. The sounds belonged to a group of six suvari who surrounded me in a moment. I made no protest, standing quietly as they jostled a bit. I didn’t recognize them, but the voice of the one who spoke was familiar.
“Sendoa? Kemen Sendoa?”
“Aye.” I nodded and bowed politely, the way one bows to a fellow warrior.
“Hayato Jalo.” He jumped down from his horse and bowed to me formally before we clasped elbows in the soldier’s gesture of friendship. Hayato, Kumar for falcon, and Jalo, noble or gracious. He was older than I by a few years, but I served with him in the suvari the last year before I was transferred to the kedani.
“You don’t look like a dead man.” He drew back and looked me up and down.
“Am I supposed to?” It had been nearly thirteen years since I’d seen him, but I’d followed his career. He’d been a good man, brave and honorable. I wondered what he was like now. People change.
“I heard you were dead. Four or five years ago up in the northeast, in the campaign against the Tarvil.” He frowned seriously. “I’m glad to see the rumors were wrong.”
“Close enough. I was discharged for injury.”
“I see you’re healthy now?”
I nodded. “What are you doing out here? It’s cold.”
“I might ask you the same. Come, let us talk.” He pulled me away from the group, motioning for them to stay at a distance. “What have you heard about what’s going on in Stonehaven?” He looked worried, tense.
“Not much. Why?”
He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, studying my face. He glanced back at the group and lowered his voice still further. “We’re sent out to find a boy. We have sketches and a detailed description. I think it’s the prince, but no one can confirm it. I’ve never seen him for myself, so I can’t be sure… but who else would it be? We’re to bring him back alive or dead. Supposedly the orders come from Vidar, but that doesn’t sound like him, does it?”
I remained carefully neutral. “You don’t think he’d want the prince found?”
“I don’t think he’d specify that dead was perfectly fine. Come now, Kemen, you can’t believe it of him. He’s power hungry, yes. We all know that. He’s gotten a little over ambitious the past few years, but I can’t believe he’d order the boy killed. Between this and the rumors that the prince is already dead, we’ve quite a bit of unrest in the suvari.”
“Who do they support?”
“The prince, of course, if he’s alive. We don’t know him, but I should hope he’s better than his father. Vidar would...” he hesitated and glanced quickly back at the other suvari. “Well, he does have credibility, I’ll give him that. But the last few months he’s pushed the limits. It’s not his throne. The suvari for the most part would support the prince if he claimed his right. It’s the kedani that’s a bit more questionable. They’ve seen Vidar and worked with him, you know, and he’s respected, if not popular. They also haven’t heard the new orders to bring back the prince, so they have nothing to tarnish his image aside from his ambition.”
I nodded. “What of the men with you?”
He spat in frustration. “No one’s sure what to do. We’re riding about following orders, but we’re all hoping we don’t find the prince. We’re loyal, you know that. We do what we’re told. But we’re no murderers.”
“I assume there are other groups out looking for him as well?”
“Aye, hundreds. We’re spreading out all over the country. I can’t say how hard we’re looking, but we all have orders.”
“What about those in the palace? Any word about how the prince disappeared?”
He shook his head, and I debated for a moment before speaking. “Hayato, thank you for the information. I’ll be passing through Ravenson in a couple weeks. If you pass through, or hear anything really interesting, particularly about the orders, will you let me know?”
He nodded.
“Leave a message at the inn for me.”
He nodded again. “I won’t ask what you’re doing, since you seem to be in no hurry to say. But it’s good to see you again, Kemen.” He held my gaze very seriously. “I hope you know you can trust me. Let me know if you need anything. I’m still out of Rivensworth.”
I nodded. “I will. Thank you. Safe riding.”
He nodded and turned away, but turned back around in a moment. “Say, what are you doing walking? Don’t you have a horse?”
I shrugged. “I’m not in the army. I don’t have one issued to me anymore.”
He laughed, but asked more quietly, “Do you need money?”
Good man. I shook my head. “Thank you but no. I want news more than anything.”
He nodded. “Right then. I’ll see what I can do.”
We smiled, and it was much like any night before a battle, when two friends nod curtly to each other because there is nothing to say. With that he was off, hurrying the others down the road without a backward glance. Of course he couldn’t know about Hakan, couldn’t know we were traveling together. But he knew, and I knew, that we stood on the same side of the conflict that was inevitable. Vidar, or whoever had ordered the hunt, did not mean to let go of power.
I watched them until they were out of sight, then followed Hakan’s trail into the woods. He was not far away, sitting on the snow-covered trunk of a fallen tree behind a thicket. He stood quickly.
“Who was it?” He fell in behind me as I made my way back toward the road. I led him on a path parallel to the road rather than ac
tually on it. I was inclined to trust Hayato. But I didn’t know the others with him, and I wouldn’t risk meeting another squad on the road.
“A friend. I haven’t seen him in years.” Since Hakan was four. Suddenly I felt very old, though I had never considered thirty-three old before. “They were looking for you.” I glanced back at him. He was pale, but whether from cold, fear, or something else altogether I wasn’t sure. “My friend and many others in the suvari support you over Vidar.”
“What would they do if they found me?”
“Their orders were to bring you to Stonehaven, dead or alive. For his part, Hayato isn’t looking for you very hard.”
Again there was silence except for his puffing as he tried to keep up with me. I slowed my pace a little. It is easy for me to forget that not everyone moves so quickly.
The next morning we started early and walked all day. I hunted as we walked, took a rabbit in a clearing with the little bow, supplemented with burdock and kiberries. I took him farther off the road that night before I finally made a fire, over a low hill that should have concealed the light. We were both tired from the cold and the long day of walking. I retreated into silence, but the princeling complained. His feet were wet. His fingers and ears were cold. He was getting a blister. He was hungry. I would quiet him with roasted pheasant if he would only wait until it was ready, but until then I glowered at the fire morosely.
I heard a murmur off in the woods, sounds that resolved into distant voices. “Hst.” I motioned at Hakan, who sniffed irritably.
“When is it going to be ready?”
I stood silently, half-crouched, and slipped around the fire beside Hakan.
“What are you…”
I clamped my hand over his mouth and listened.
Yes, voices. And the sounds of several bodies moving through the underbrush toward us. They were trying to be quiet, and I’d barely heard them over the faint hiss and crackle of the fire. My fingers tight over Hakan’s mouth, I bent to whisper in his ear, “Be silent and don’t move.” He stared at me with wide, confused eyes, and I caught my pack up and slipped it over my shoulder. I pushed the glowing logs apart and threw handfuls of snow and wet leaves over the still-glowing coals. It wouldn’t hide the signs we’d been there, but it doused the flames; the light wouldn’t be as obvious. I left the half-roasted pheasant in the coals and turned to Hakan, who still stared at me.