Complete In the Service of Dragons

by William Robert Stanek

  “You know where we shall go; do not despair,” said Noman, softly speaking the last part so only Amir could hear it. Noman then knelt beside Adrina and readied her for the trek. “Sleep, my child,” he said quietly as he kissed her forehead.

  Noman motioned for Amir to carry Adrina. “Let us walk calmly through this night,” Xith said into the light evening breeze. Amir gently picked up Adrina and the group departed into the blackness of the night.

  Chapter Twelve

  With each passing day, Lord Serant’s strength increased. He felt that he was well, but Calyin had left orders with Isador that he was to remain in bed. Captain Brodst had recovered almost completely, yet Calyin also forbade him to return to his duties until the seventh day. Her argument was that he needed more rest and would get it.

  Captain Brodst had tried in vain to resist, but as Lord Serant had told him, “No one ever really wins an argument with Calyin. Even if you win, you lose, so it is best just to go along with what she says.” Lord Serant was very thankful for his company; at least he was not cooped up in bed with no one to talk to. The topics of their conversations varied though eventually they would end up discussing the words of the assassin lord.

  When Isador would leave after breakfast, Captain Brodst would quickly close the door and help Serant out of bed. The two would escape to a little balcony just off the room. They would bask in the sunlight of the day, enjoying the cool breezes that often blew in from the north.

  Just before lunch, they would move back into their “little cell” as they called it. Isador would bring lunch, and when she couldn’t endure their protests any longer would leave. They would then sneak back out to the balcony.

  Calyin often found them out there when she checked in on them. She’d look at Lord Serant’s broad smile and her cross mood would ease. The questions they asked her were always the same, “Has Keeper Q’yer returned yet?” “Any word from the alliance?” “What of the council?” Calyin’s response was also always the same, “If they had I would have told you first thing.” Both Lord Serant and the captain doubted that she would have, which is why they continually asked the questions.

  Six days had passed. On the eve of the seventh, Calyin had sent Midori to check on their progress. Serant pleaded with her to tell Calyin he was fully recovered. Midori knew better; her healing powers were strong, but the internal damage needed time to mend on its own.

  The next morning, Captain Brodst tried everything he could think of to convince Isador that Lord Serant was well, but his words were wasted. He had even talked to Calyin who told him her decision was final. The captain dreaded seeing the look on Serant’s face when he told him what Calyin had said. He tried to rationalize it by telling himself several times that it was, after all, for the best. Lord Serant must be totally recovered by the next seventh day as they could not afford the risk if he had not fully regained his strength. The kingdom depended on it.

  Just as he expected, Lord Serant had an anxious expression on his face, which was readily followed by a frown. “Sorry, I tried, but you know Calyin. Don’t worry. I’ll come back this evening. I’ll sneak a jug in. Okay?” Captain Brodst said with a smile as he gathered the remainder of his things and prepared to leave. He was surprised when he opened the door to find Calyin just about to come in. His face turned red with embarrassment as he walked past. There was nothing he could keep secret from her. He was hoping to be far down the corridor before she could say something to stop him, but he was not so fortunate.

  “A jug! Is that all you ever think of? He does not need any of that.”

  “It is for medicinal purposes.”

  “I am sure it is. Has a week in bed tried your patience so much?”

  Calyin whirled around to face Serant and unleash her disappointment at him. Lord Serant looked to Brodst for some assistance from Calyin’s wrath. Captain Brodst was still hoping to sneak out past Calyin, so he offered no help. “Captain Brodst, I wish to talk with you also!” Reluctantly the captain walked back into the room.

  “I would like you both to meet Father Joshua. He has just arrived this morning from the priesthood.”

  For the first time, Lord Serant and Captain Brodst noticed the middle-aged, dark skinned man who stood quietly behind Calyin. Captain Brodst tried to compare him to other priests he had known, but could not. Father Jacob and Father Francis had been much, much older. This man was younger. He didn’t have a gray hair in his curly black locks.

  “Welcome, Father Joshua; I am Lord Serant,” said Serant as he attempted to stand and shake the father’s hand. Father Joshua was quick to move and shook Serant’s hand before he could stand. “Yes, I know much about you, my lord. I was born and raised in the Western Territories until the priesthood found me. It is an honor to meet you.”

  “Good to have you with us, Father Joshua. I am Captain Brodst.”

  “A pleasure to meet you also, Captain.”

  The four talked for a time, and then Captain Brodst excused himself. He said he had to catch up on the week’s duties; the real reason was that seeing Father Joshua had reminded him of something he had forgotten. He mouthed the words to Serant, “I’ll come back later,” and winked. Calyin saw the gesture and glared at him as he departed.

  Captain Brodst returned to his old quarters and placed his clothes inside. A short time later he found what he was looking for in the eastern tower. “Guard!” he bellowed as he approached, “You will come to attention when I approach!”

  The guard, who had been standing watch, instantly snapped to attention. The captain paced back and forth behind him, loudly cracking his heels in the stone. “You are at the wrong post. Do you know what the punishment is?”

  A long silence followed. The guard knew better than to speak while at attention without being granted permission. He could not understand why he was being treated thus. He had done nothing wrong. He had only heard the jingle of officer’s bells a little too late. He wished he could see the man’s face, for he could not recognize the voice.

  “About face, Sergeant Brodst!”

  “Sergeant—” Pyetr exclaimed as he completed the order, turning to face the captain. His expression changed to one of shock when he saw the broad smile on Captain Brodst’s face. Pyetr lowered his head in shame under the captain’s gaze.

  “I owe you my life and so does Lord Serant. Your deed did not go unnoticed. I know we have had our differences in the past, but I think it is time for a change. Remove that plate and helmet. No sergeant of mine wears that. Go get suitable chain and send someone else to the eastern tower; then return to my office.”

  “Thank you!” Pyetr said as he bolted away. “No, thank you!” shouted Captain Brodst after him. He watched Pyetr retreat along the wall. Seeing Pyetr excited and happy for once made him feel good. It had been so long since he had seen a smile cross his face.

  They had not spoken except for official matters for years. He had thought Pyetr had closed him out of his life forever. He was glad to find that he hadn’t. His thoughts returned to the time they had last really talked to one another. It had been an argument.

  Pyetr had not wanted to serve in the garrison. Captain Brodst had told him he would join just as his own father before him had told him he must do. He had been so determined to force Pyetr into the military that he had ignored the reasons that Pyetr loathed weapons and armor.

  The captain’s wife, Pyetr’s mother, had died by the sword. Captain Brodst recalled the day clearly in his memory. He had heard Pyetr’s cries and screams and had come running. He found her with a dagger clutched in her hands. “I am sorry, my husband,” she cried as she plunged the dagger up and into her, piercing her heart before the captain could stop her. She had crumpled into his arms, dead before he even caught her. He had never known why she had done it. He could only think of one reason, but he could not believe it. He would not believe it.

  From that day on, Pyetr had never spoken again to him. Pyetr, who had been only a child then, and he blamed his mother’s de
ath on his father. The two had never spoken again.

  Captain Brodst walked back to his office and waited for Pyetr’s return. He set aside his other pressing duties and passed the time in reminiscence. The joyous times of the past returned to his mind.

  A knock sounded on the door and Pyetr entered. He was outfitted in shining mail and a sparkling red tunic. The captain smiled his approval at Pyetr’s choice. Pyetr stood rigidly at attention, awaiting the captain’s further orders. Captain Brodst offered him a chair, but Pyetr refused. “I would prefer to stand if the captain does not mind.”

  Captain Brodst frowned, but agreed. All his hopes that the two would ever communicate like father and son were shattered; still, he held a straight face as he studied Pyetr. Somewhere he would find a spark within Pyetr and he would light it.

  “Well, Sergeant, I would like you to begin some extensive training with Swordmaster Timmer. I would also like for you to select a few of the best from the guard and have them also start training with the swordmaster.”

  “How many is a few, sir?”

  “I will leave the decision to your discretion. We lost many of the royal guard when the city was besieged. The gaps need to be refilled. But I want the best. I don’t care where you get them as long as they are expert soldiers and trustworthy.”

  “Yes sir, will we be joining the royal guard then?”

  “You’re dismissed. I will see you tomorrow morning.”

  Pyetr turned on his heel and departed. The captain looked around his office. It was the same old place it had always been. The small vacation had been good for him. He left to make his daily rounds and to check on the affairs of the palace. He found to his surprise that everything was in order, which appeared too good to be true.

  He returned to his office after an exhausting day of searching for something, anything that was out of place. He found nothing. He was disappointed. He sat at his desk for the remainder of the day, feeling perplexed and dejected.

  “Sorry—” said the chancellor, who entered without knocking.

  “Chancellor Volnej, it is okay. Come in, come in, you are most welcome.”

  “Did you find everything satisfactory?”

  “Yes, very much so.”

  “Good! I was hoping you would. Your assistant is a very thorough man.”

  “Assistant? I don’t have an assistant.”

  “A tall young fellow with brownish hair and green eyes, like yours. He always wears a light helmet and heavy armor like a—”

  “Guard?”

  “Yes. Like a guard.”

  “Oh, yes, yes, how silly of me. I remember. It’s just that I had just appointed him and after the attack, I forgot. What did you come by for anyway?”

  “Actually, I was just looking for my walking stick. I haven’t been able to find it all day. I stopped by here yesterday evening, so—oh, there it is—well, I’ll leave you to return to your thoughts.”

  “Good-bye, Chancellor Volnej,” said Captain Brodst, already lost in thought. He knew whom the chancellor was referring to; it could have been only one person. He was unsure whether to be angry or happy. He resolved to be confused.

  Late in the evening, he went to the kitchen and acquired a jug of ale and headed for Lord Serant’s room. He winked to the post guards and rapped lightly on the door. To his surprise, Calyin opened the door. “Why, do come in, Captain Brodst. I was rather expecting you.”

  The captain quickly sneaked the bottle to one of the guards. Calyin looked puzzled when he walked into the room empty-handed. She could have sworn he had something in his hand.

  Captain Brodst stifled a sigh when he saw Calyin’s confounded look. He was pleased with himself for getting out of trouble so easily. He was extremely surprised to see that he and Calyin weren’t Lord Serant’s only late night visitors. Father Joshua, Sister Midori, Sister Catrin, Chancellor Volnej, and Keeper Q’yer were all seated around Lord Serant.

  “Don’t worry, captain, you didn’t miss a thing. Keeper Q’yer arrived only minutes ago. I was going to send for you, but Calyin wouldn’t let me,” said Lord Serant, smiling slyly.

  “Oh, really, I wonder why?”

  “She said that you’d be along any moment because Isador saw you pilfering something from the kitchen.”

  “Me? Certainly not.”

  “Oh, I agree entirely. I told her drinking was against your ethics.”

  “Oh yes, I never drink on an empty stomach, never.”

  “See. I told you Calyin.”

  The sound of laughter filled the room, chasing away the gloom that had hung over the room a moment before, but it died quickly and was replaced by the same feelings of foreboding. Keeper Q’yer began to tell a story of the past, a story of a great kingdom that had once flourished and spread across the land but was now forever gone, forgotten.

  “I have found the object of our search. It was in the first book of Dalphan the Wanderer. Antare was a place, as I had thought. It was only mentioned once in all the tomes of our library. On a single page of Dalphan’s book, which read, ‘...and so we watched our capital burn, Antare it was called. With it died the dreams and hopes of our nation. The fire spread throughout the lands and swallowed them, forever destroying them, returning them to the place from which they were born. It was here at the end, at the gathering, that I betrayed my brothers.’ Do you see what is occurring?”

  The room was solemnly calm. “The decision of the Council of Keepers was unanimous. We cannot afford the risk. At the end, all things come full circle. We bring our own destruction.”

  “It is too late, Keeper. It has already been set in motion.”

  “Do you speak the words of the Mother or do you really wish it so?”

  “Midori speaks those words truthfully. She is quite correct. I can feel it as does she. It will be here that the paths converge. We cannot stop it.”

  “Are you both mad? There is time, I tell you!”

  “Let’s discuss this rationally, Keeper Q’yer, Father Joshua, Sister Midori. We know what will take place. We can direct our efforts toward a logical solution.”

  “There is no logic in nature, Lord Serant.”

  “If I may interrupt, I agree with Lord Serant. If we plan this correctly, there must be a way out; as you said there is no logic in nature, and I well know there cannot be good without evil, so there must be a way out. We will have to find it.”

  “Definitely, Captain, well spoken! We know all the facts from the past. We can learn from our ancestors’ mistakes. Let’s just follow the facts step by step and guide ourselves through them. We will prove we have learned something in two thousand years.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You really should start eating your food. It is quite delicious.”

  Valam looked down at his plate for the first time since he and Tsandra had begun their conversation. Valam thought, “How can I talk and eat at the same time?”

  He had not expected a response, but Tsandra gave him one anyway. “Quite simply, just like this. You can think with your mouth full, can’t you?” Tsandra stated the question sincerely, but Valam thought it was a joke. He almost choked on his food before he gulped down a glass of wine. “I guess you can’t,” commented Tsandra as she watched him.

  The remainder of the meal proceeded without conversation. Valam was embarrassed to find Seth and Evgej staring at him as he finally took in their presence and that of everyone else around him again. When the dinner assemblage broke up, Valam almost expected Tsandra to come over and talk to him, but she didn’t. In silence, he walked beside Evgej from the hall, with Cagan, Seth, and Liyan not far behind.

  “The war still seems so very distant,” said Valam as he stopped mid-stride, “so different.”

  “Yes, at times I even wonder if it exists, yet I know it does,” answered Seth.

  They slowly, subconsciously, walked towards the balcony they had occupied earlier in the evening, while they talked.

  “Tomorrow also seems so distant. Do you think
we will be able to reach Keeper Martin and Father Jacob?”

  “Yes. We will reach them. Our outposts tell us that King Mark’s forces have not yet passed the Western Ranges. They and the plains are still the boundaries that separate us. If your men have indeed landed on the position Brother Seth chose, they should be well away from the mountains. We have sent our scouts out all along the coast. We will receive word soon.”

  “This King Mark you speak of. He is the one that completed the journey?”

  “No it was Sathar.”

  “Then why does the enemy align under King Mark if Sathar is the true leader?”

  Liyan looked to Seth questioningly and directed to only him and Cagan, “You did not tell them?” Seth shook his head solemnly. Liyan then looked to Cagan, who repeated Seth’s gesture of no. Liyan’s heart sank as he fought an inner battle. He had to tell them, but something stopped him, held him back from saying anything further.