by JF Smith
“I trusted him,” said Thaybrill. “Even when I had doubts in the back of my mind, I always assumed it was because he must be aloof and severe for my benefit. Doubly so since he was not my true father.”
“Of whom do you speak, Thaybrill?”
“The Domo Regent, of course — Krayell, the man who was the closest thing that I’ve had to a father. You see how my faith in him was rewarded,” said Thaybrill with shame. “I looked on the monster that murdered our parents, and tried to have you killed as well, as my father.”
Gully’s mouth moved slightly, but no words came out. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably.
“You were lucky, assuredly,” said Thaybrill. “Very lucky. You had something honest and full for the years when you needed it most.”
Gully stepped around to face Thaybrill directly. “I am not a good person, Thaybrill. But I swear I will never wrong you intentionally or knowingly. Even if I cannot share the father that I had with you, I can share the sense of family he gave to me.”
Thaybrill grinned weakly, and the words from his brother meant more to him than he could express. Out of his darkest day, the day when he had abandoned hope entirely, he had miraculously found real family. Gully’s words were superfluous to him, but very nice to hear aloud. He had trusted him without reservation the day Gully had saved his life, and that trust had not wavered for one moment since.
Thaybrill noticed his brother studying his face closely. Gully’s hand reached out towards his face, then paused.
“May I?” asked Gully with a nod towards his face.
Thaybrill nodded his reply, and Gully gently touched his face, studying Thaybrill with an intense curiosity. His fingers traced over his twin’s eyes, and down his nose, then around and along his chin. Thaybrill took the opportunity to study Gully in the same way, seeing himself standing before himself.
“I am far handsomer than ever I realized!” commented Gully, causing Thaybrill to laugh aloud. Thaybrill once again had to hold himself back from embracing his brother desperately for these small kindnesses he gave away.
It was not long after that that the Archbishop found them atop the oratory tower and requested their majesties to join him below in the courtyard for some discussion.
As they walked, the Archbishop asked, “I meant to ask earlier, Your Majesty, how your first night sleeping in the king’s rooms passed. Did you sleep well? Were the bed and the rooms to your liking?”
Gully grimaced slightly, then answered, “The rooms and the bed are extraordinarily large. I’m surprised I did not get lost among the cabinets and upholstered chairs and tapestries trying to find the garderobe!”
The Archbishop stopped walking and seemed horrified. “They... they are not to your liking?” he asked in near distress.
Gully smiled and Thaybrill could not stand by while the hapless man was subjected to Gully’s humor. He said, “Thayliss is simply not used to rooms, or beds, such as what now accommodate him. He has much with which to familiarize himself, Nellist, and we must be patient with him.” He turned to Gully and added, “In the meantime, His Majesty will please remember not to tease our Archbishop thusly.”
As they made their way out of the oratory tower, they passed the back of the throne hall and then exited out into the Courtyard of the Empyrean. Thaybrill heard Gully sigh ever so slightly and his steps slowed barely; he knew his brother would likely never manage to feel any fondness for the courtyard.
Thaybrill followed Gully’s gaze to the arcade walk that edged the ravine, where now there were several of the Kingdom Guard patrolling. The King’s Guard would normally have had this particular duty, but their numbers had shrunk when it was discovered who among them were in league with the Domo Regent. They had been supplemented for the time being with swordsmen from the Kingdom Guard instead.
The Archbishop immediately launched into a description of the coronation ceremony, gesturing from one end to the other as he described the arrival and placement of the eleven noble families of Iisen, then the arrival and placement of Prince Thaybrill, representing the twelfth and royal family, the convocation, the welcoming of the eleven veLohrdan ancestors to witness the crowning of the next in their line, the pledges of fealty by the eleven noble lords, and so on and so forth.
Gully listened listlessly and Thaybrill watched him closely.
Eventually, as the Archbishop was describing his own speech just before he would place the crown on Gully’s head, Gully frowned and interrupted.
“I beg your pardon, Archbishop! Does not all of this seem laughably premature to you?” cried Gully in exasperation. “Why are we bothering with talk of coronations and welcoming stars in the sky to witness ceremonies here below when we may well all be Maqaran slaves within a week? Does this not strike you as a peculiar way to spend our attention?”
Once again, the Archbishop looked terrified at the offense he had caused, but Thaybrill interceded. He said, “Gully,” then glanced sideways at the Archbishop and began again, “Prince Thayliss, there is nothing we can do on that score. That arrow has been loosed from the pulled bow and where it lands, for ill or well, is not in our control anymore.”
Thaybrill gave a silent prayer for Roald’s safety, and everyone’s.
From somewhere near the side of the courtyard, an unexpected voice, gentle and yet impossible to ignore, said aloud, “That is not entirely true, Your Highness.”
By the time Thaybrill wheeled around and found the source of the comment, all he saw were men throwing off the last of their clothing and in the blink of an eye, there were then two large, dark wolves bounding across the stones of the courtyard towards them. He heard a terrified gasp from the Archbishop, and then a sharp voice halted the wolves in their tracks, “Gallun! Gellen!”
The wolves, barely before they were upon Gully, stopped short.
The voice of an old man he had never seen before, at the edge of the courtyard, admonished them again, “Remember Dunnhem’s words! Remember whom he is!”
Thaybrill glanced back to Gully and he almost thought he spotted a glimmer of disappointment that the men who were wolves had not run him down where he stood. The animals looked uncertain for a moment, but then they walked over and stood sheepishly — there was no other word to describe it — next to Gully. They sat upon their haunches and looked up at him in turns, one on each side.
Thaybrill was excited to see that the two remarkable men, good friends of his brother’s, had returned. It was short lived excitement that quickly turned to panic, however. Swordsmen from all around the courtyard were now running towards them, having only seen the appearance of two wolves on the Folly grounds that had dashed straight for the soon-to-be monarch of all of Iisen. The color had drained from their faces and most of them had swords already drawn to try to stop the wolves from attacking the prince regent.
Thaybrill stepped towards them, putting himself between the wolves and the running guards, and yelled at them, “Stop! Do not!”
The prince’s command stopped the guards, who looked at each other in bafflement that the prince seemed to be allowing his brother to be left to whatever mauling the wolves might give.
Thaybrill said to the guards, “It is not what it seems! They are friends and His Majesty is in no danger!”
The quizzical look of confusion on Gallun and Gellen’s faces at why anyone would think they were a danger to Gully almost made Thaybrill laugh.
The Archbishop, terrified at the proximity of the massive wolves and his face as white as his hair, still had his hands over his mouth and had begun to back away slowly from them.
Gully noticed this and said, still a shadow of disappointment in his voice, “You do not need to fear them, Archbishop.” He glanced down at the wolves, whose tongues were lolling happily out of their mouths and added, “This is one of the less spirited greetings I have received from them since I have known them.”
The Archbishop stopped from backing away, but he still said nothing and his hands re
mained over his mouth. Thaybrill became afraid that the old man would faint dead away at any moment.
Gully said, “This is Gallun and Gellen. They are friends of mine from the gypsy clan that has lived in the Ghellerweald for years now. They are just like us, Archbishop, except that some of them have animal forms as well. These two, as you can see, can change form between wolves and men as they wish.”
The guards that were standing nearby remained unsure how to handle the situation and looked in mixed awe and fear at the wolves, and then at each other in confusion. Gully said to them, “These men, these wolves, are my personal friends. Under no circumstance shall any animal be harmed on the Folly grounds! Is that absolutely clear?”
“Yes, Majesty!” barked one of the guards.
Thaybrill added, “Make sure all of the Guard knows this, men, please. These members of the gypsy clan should be allowed free passage in and out of the Folly as they desire, and access to the prince regent anytime they choose.”
“Yes, Highness!” barked the swordsman again.
By now, several other guards had shown up as well, one of whom was Dunnhem from Roald’s squad.
Gully shouted, a smile lighting his face, “Patriarch! Wyael!”
In the corner of the courtyard, Thaybrill spied the old man again, probably as old as the Archbishop but with less belly and more hair, ambling towards them with the aid of a wooden staff. Behind the elderly man was a young boy, who looked so excited that Thaybrill expected him to start spinning like a toy top at any moment. The old man leaned down long enough to whisper something to the boy, who nodded and bolted towards them as fast as his legs would carry him.
Thaybrill could not help but smile to himself as Gully knelt down and held out his arms. Wyael ran to him and Gully gave him a terrific hug.
Dunnhem approached, kneeled briefly, which caused a flicker of a frown on Gully’s face, and said, “Highness, your friends Gallun and Gellen, whom I recognized, arrived at the Folly gate with their two companions. I took the liberty of bringing them in for an audience with you.” He glanced unsurely at the animals next to Gully. “Er... I had no idea, Your Majesty, that they could become wolves like this. I hope I did as you would wish me, Sire.”
Gully nodded and reassured the guard, “You did, yes. Thank you, Dunnhem. Very much! The other night, when first you met them, it was easier not to delve into a lot of explanations in front of everyone. Rest assured, Roald knew of their abilities before he left with them, though.”
The patriarch arrived at the group in the middle of the courtyard and Gully smiled again. He said, “Patriarch, you are a most welcome sight to me!”
The patriarch said nothing in return and instead looked down at the ground. Slowly, and with the aid of his staff, he knelt down and only then said, “Majesty, you must know that it is I who have the grace of an honor scarcely imaginable to be here before you.”
Gully frowned again and begged, “Please, patriarch, stand. You have no business on your knees on these hard stones! We have this conversation too often!”
The patriarch stayed where he was. “Dunnhem explained the remarkable things that have been discovered about your true birth parents as he escorted us here to the courtyard.”
The patriarch began to stand and Gully went to help him. The patriarch patted Gully’s arm as he helped to lift the old man. “Such things would scarcely be believable in others, and yet in you, Di’taro, they seem almost inevitable! Fate has been greatly occupied with you, and it seems I cannot turn my back on you for even a moment without you surprising all of us yet again.”
Thaybrill could see the pink rise in Gully’s face. Gully gestured towards Thaybrill and said, “Patriarch, Wyael, I should introduce you to Prince Thaybrill, who I have found is my twin brother.”
Gully placed his hands on the wolves’ heads and added, “It seems I now share something in common with the two of you, Gallun and Gellen.”
The patriarch bowed reverently before Thaybrill and smiled at him. He said, “Any man looking at you could hardly fail to see the unmistakable resemblance. I think the only two that would have such similarity hidden from them would be each other! It is truly an honor to make your acquaintance, Prince Thaybrill!”
There were a few more introductions of Wyael and the Archbishop. As they talked, even more people from around the Folly had noticed strange things in the Courtyard of the Empyrean and were gathering in ever larger numbers to see.
Gully finally asked, “But where is your ocelot self, patriarch?”
Before the patriarch could answer, a large brown and black pilcher owl flew down and landed on a leather pad on Wyael’s shoulder, flapping a few times as it found its balance. The guards standing nearby, and the Archbishop himself, took another step back at the surprising arrival, and there was an audible gasp from the people gathering around the edges of the courtyard.
Gully smiled again, “Omalde? It is you, isn’t it?”
The owl nodded and clicked her beak a couple of times. Thaybrill, even having previously seen his brother talk to wolves, was suddenly surprised again to see him converse with an owl as if it was the most natural thing in the world. But the warm smile on his brother’s face, wolves at his sides and his arms around the boy, Wyael, made him truly happy for Thayliss for the first time since the tragic loss the night they tried to arrest Krayell.
“I saw a pilcher owl flying around earlier in the daylight hours and wondered if there was a chance that it was you!” exclaimed Gully.
The owl nodded again enthusiastically.
“Omalde, with her sharp eyes, is who helped us find you in the city, my dear Gully,” said the patriarch.
“And her presence, and my presence, are why your brother Roald need not be cut off from your counsel as he prepares to fight off the Maqarans.”
Thaybrill may not have understood how their arrival could help in this sense, but it did not stop the tiny thrill he felt run through him at the thought of brave, gallant Roald.
Thaybrill could not make sense of the patriarch’s statement, but Gully said, “You are with him! You and Omalde are among the Mercher clan members that went with him!”
“Yes, now you see,” said the patriarch. “Now you see some of the assistance that we can be!”
Gully, sensing the confusion among the others around him, explained, “Gallun and Gellen are transmute balmors, and they can shift their form from man to wolf whenever they like. Omalde and the patriarch, though, are of a different kind called familiars. They exist in both forms at the same time. The patriarch exists as both a man and an ocelot simultaneously. His human self is here, and his ocelot self is with Roald. Roald can speak to the patriarch’s ocelot form, and the patriarch here with us can relate Roald’s message. And I can reply to Omalde, and she will tell Roald what I’ve said!”
“Precisely, Your Majesty!” said the patriarch.
Gully’s face clouded and he said sharply, “Patriarch, I must have your word... when the time comes, you must be safely away from any fighting!”
The patriarch’s head tilted to one side some and his eyes twinkled. “I am not as helpless as you think. And Raybb and Encender will keep an eye—”
Gully raised his hand and the patriarch stopped speaking immediately.
“Please, patriarch. Give me your word!” begged Gully.
The patriarch bowed his head and said, “You have my word, of course.”
Thaybrill found it odd that Gully could chastise the patriarch this way, and the patriarch did not seem to mind in the least. Even the smile perched on the corner of the patriarch’s face was genuine. If he did not know better, he would have sworn that the patriarch wanted Gully to force his compliance in this matter.
Gully turned to Thaybrill anxiously and said, “Thaybrill, I must speak to Roald! Is there somewhere that we can gather and talk?”
Thaybrill said, “Certainly there is!”
The prince led his brother and the party inside and presented to Gully his personal salo
n, the sovereign’s chambers, at the back of the Throne Hall. There, they could converse with East End more privately and erase the distance between the two cities.
Chapter 29 — The Element Of Surprise
Roald’s boot dug into the loose sand among the rocks, and he brought his eyes down from the heavens above and looked into the pre-dawn dark from his high perch on the mountainside towards where he knew East End lay. The trees were scrubby, small things and grew sparsely on the mountainside. Below, where the pass was, there was more rock interrupted by thicker copses of trees here and there, and then finally the edge of the Ghellerweald itself picking up where the feet of the Sheard Mountains left off.
He turned towards the west again. The stars of his mother and father had long since rotated beyond where he could see, and even the black hole in the sky that was the trickster moon was obscured by some passing clouds. He felt he should have been kneeling in his prayers, but he was too tired to do so. His nerves had kept him up all through the night until he finally abandoned the futile effort to find sleep, and he had come to pray one last time instead. One last prayer before he would be tested in a way he never expected to be tested in all of his days.
His eyes lifted aloft again and he wondered, how do you feel knowing that you acted as mother to the future king of Iisen, and to the heir of a long-ago decimated empire? He knew she would be pleased, her eyes turning to merry half-moons and her cheeks flushing as pink as a spring rose as she laughed at the idea. She had always struggled trying to get Thayliss to fully claim the role as Roald’s younger brother the way she wished he would, but loved him despite his bull-headed waywardness. Thayliss had always been too headstrong, too reluctant, to make anyone’s love easy. But she would ignore that now that she knew about her son, Bayle, what everyone else knew.