Wartune
Page 4
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He had been given quarters for the evening, but was certain there would be spies hidden to watch him, so instead he chose to wander the hallways. The castle had an abundance of guards, so he did not fear any assassination attempt. Besides, he was not one for politics and Debra had already taken away what influence he had.
When his thoughts returned to his surroundings he found himself in a small garden, hidden away from the rest of the castle. There was a single guard, but Alkorn stated his desire for solitude, and the guard left.
Alkorn contemplated his options. He could try to learn the ways of politics, Erik would surely guide him. He had no taste for intrigue and favors, however. He liked the clarity of the battlefield, liked knowing who his enemies were. Subterfuge and deception were always a part of it, but battles almost came down to how well you knew your soldiers.
"Thinky thinking of breaky breaking?"
Alkorn drew his dagger and looked around, but could see no one in the torchlight.
"Show yourself." He called out.
Gloria let her magic fall, and appeared beside him. Alkorn attacked, thrusting for her right arm, hoping to disable her, but she waved her hand and his dagger faded to rust.
"Silly small little silly man. I am a friendly friend." She looked down at him with a gigantic smile. Alkorn grimaced.
"Two smiles two friends, yes yes?" She released his wrist, and he backed away.
"Well, powerful one, you have me at an advantage. Why have you come?"
"A warning for you. Not in general, general, do I do such things. Warnings about warrings. But big warrings, so I must give warnings."
"Yes...Are you all right? You seem a bit...confused."
Her smile faded for a moment as she pondered his words, then returned even brighter. "Always." She said.
"Very well...warn away." He replied.
She grabbed his wrist and Alkorn saw his path
Sophie, Yannick
Yannick knelt in the temple with. His swayed slightly, eyes closed. His head still hurt from the previous night's drink, but he had woken early, and felt the need to pray.
"I have always been faithful to you. Even as a child, when the others would find excuses to avoid your worship, take out their horses to ride, or play at swords, I made time for you. But now, Goddess, now I question my dedication."
"The boy... There's no sense for it. He has the skill, no doubt of that. He could dance circles around the king himself, rest his soul. But all he ever does is hide!" Yannick spat. "It's not just the fight. He's never raised his voice against me, never stood up to a teacher, never done anything with a spit of fire. You can see he wants to. See it in his eyes. But every time the passion fades to fear."
"My Lord...I did not think it would be like this. I did not think that the boy would be so gods damned pitiful. You were fire and passion. You were strength and righteousness and nobility, and... When you whispered to me to protect him, to take him away from the capital, I thought he would grow and become a man like you, a man worthy of respect. Not a beaten dog, eager to please and afraid to try. You spoke so highly of him when we were on campaigns...How could it all be so wrong?"
"I have no child to gauge success, but I have done all I could. I corrected when correction was needed, encouraged when encouragement was due. I hid the child, snuck him away from the dangers of Yaloran. What else could I have done?"
Yannick shuddered, and fell backward onto his hands. He tried to roll to his side and stand up, but instead he fell onto his side, flopping like a sturgeon. He fought off the urge to vomit, then looked to the side and saw a pale face.
"How long have you been there, young one?" He asked.
"Long enough to understand." Sophia replied.
"You are far too young, child, to understand. Someday, perhaps, but not now." Yannick belched.
Sophia stared at him, not willing to give him the satisfaction of her disgust.
"He is not brave, I concede. But he has other virtues."
"Wetting oneself is hardly a virtue." Yannick shot at her, furious at being lectured by a child.
"Clearly not, else you would be the most virtuous man in the kingdom." Yannick glared at her. "But they are there, none the less. Are you sober enough to walk?"
Yannick propped himself against a bench. He took a step forward, but swayed. Sophia leaped forward, and caught him. He cursed, but did not refuse her help. When he was ready, Sophia stepped away.
"It is not far," she said, "But you will need to climb a bit." She set off, walking with a slow confidence out the front door.
"Were that it was you I must foster, and not that godless wretch." He followed after her.