Crystal King (Riland Throne Book 1)

by John Olsen

  Gavin pulled the bear’s crystal and its master from his pouch and dropped the mated pair of stones onto the table to shimmer in the lamp light. “I don’t care what you believe at this point. What we do next is more important. We’ve got to find out if my father and Stephan are still alive. You can keep running things here as you have. I can take a handful of men to check out the rumors.” It ate at him that he had parted with his father and brother on such bad terms.

  Draken gawked at the sparkling crystals and reached out to touch them. “Those could be from a royal guard! I’ve never seen better.” He wrenched his attention back to Gavin. “I’ll accept your account, though it changes little. All we know with your input is the attack was more widespread than we thought.”

  His visage became grim as he continued. “But as usual, you have a head for strategy, and you’re daft as a rock at the same time. How do you do it? There is a large enemy force out there somewhere, and you want to gallivant around with a few armed men. Until we know for certain about your father, you’re the Baron Regent. You’re not going anywhere. To top it all off, I may grind my teeth down to nubs because I am your senior adviser. Sir.”

  Gavin’s mouth hung open as his train of thought evaporated like a summer mist. “I can’t be the Baron Regent. I’m too young, I don’t have the training, and I have no desire to fill my father’s shoes, or my brother’s. Besides, they may be out there still, and we need to find them.”

  “Do you think any of your stupid excuses matter? Do you think I’m happy about you being our best option? The people will look to the Stoutheart name for security. You’re not much, but you’re all we have. It’s time for you to grow up and step up. You need advice, you need information, and you need a plan. But before that, you need a backbone.”

  Gavin sat back in his chair, his mouth open. Draken had been sharp with him before but had never been so blunt. Was he right? Did the people need him?

  “How long have you wanted to say that to me?” Gavin asked quietly.

  “About ten years now. I seem to finally have your attention.”

  Gavin nodded. “A few years late, I suppose.”

  Draken continued, “You’re great at plans and schemes. I’ve seen the extents you’ve reached to get out of training. Now you need to lead.”

  “Am I really the best option? You could do it.”

  “Well, sir, that depends on how many people you want to die if the subjects and guards believe I’ve attempted a coup to gain control. You’ve got a brain. Use it. We need you as the regent.”

  Gavin was running out of options. Maybe Draken was right after all. He could stand in for a few days until they figured out what was going on.

  “Okay, I’m the Baron Regent for the next little while. How do we find out about the rumors? That has to be our top priority.”

  Draken said, “Before I fetched you, I assigned some of the castle guards to track the rumor back to its source. With your blessing, I’ll follow up to see if we have a person to bring in for a chat. I suspect one of the locals started the rumor. We need a first-hand account.”

  Gavin no longer felt irrelevant or useless, and he wasn’t sure he liked the difference. “Right. Finish your hunt, Master Draken. Tomorrow, I’ll go make sure Tover and Saleena made it back without any more trouble.”

  Draken pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “If I might give you more counsel, sir, you have people who can do those sorts of things, and who should do that work for you. You do not understand this yet, but your time has become more valuable than you can imagine. Learn to delegate.” He stood from his chair and grabbed his dirty cloak. “If I can find our rumormonger, I’ll be back tonight. Don’t get too comfortable, and don’t go anywhere alone. Now, if you will excuse me?” Draken walked over to stand next to the door and waited.

  Gavin looked him over. “Do we have to go through all this protocol?”

  “Yes, we do, sir. If you must, consider it to be out of some vestigial respect for your father.”

  Gavin lowered his gaze in shame, a rare thing when it came to Draken’s barbed comments. “Then you are dismissed.”

  Gavin gazed off at the alcove used to burn memorial candles. “Missing. Maybe gone. I’ll never be able to replace them and do what they would do.”

  Draken paused with his hand on the door. “Replacement isn’t the goal. You must do your best with what you have. Learn who you are meant to be, and then be that man.” He gave an informal salute.

  Gavin returned the salute. He stood and walked to the door as Draken opened it and left to hunt for his source of information.

  A footman just a few years Gavin’s senior stood at ease outside the door. After a bit of thought, the name came to Gavin. “Jase, please let me know when the Tanners and the cattle arrive. They should get here mid-day tomorrow. Also, Tover lost his son Ned to bandits. I’d like to light a candle for him. Just have someone bring a box of candles; I may need several by the time we’re done.”

  Perhaps the candle meditation would bring him peace. The Priests of Order always brought plenty of new candles when they visited, so there must be several on hand. The alcove in his father’s study had seen generations of candles burned for generations of loss. Now it was his turn to mourn.

  “Of course, sir. I’ll see to it.” Jase pulled a cord near the door to summon a servant and looked Gavin up and down, lingering on the stained hole through his armor with wide eyes. “Do you, ah, need anything else, sir? Bandages maybe?”

  Explaining would be too much work. “No, thank you.” His heart had a hole, but not the kind left by a weapon. Gavin shut the door and sat back at the table to reflect on his upside-down world. A baron should be someone with skill and power. A lot of good people would look to him as their protector, and they deserved his best, as Draken had said. Would his best be good enough? The puzzle still had too many unknowns.

  Gavin was still pondering when Jase delivered the candles a short time later.

  * * *

  Gavin knelt on the old mat, worn from use over the years in front of the candle alcove. He struggled to stay awake as the small candle for Ned burned down to a flickering nub, when there was a sharp knock at the door.

  “Come,” Gavin answered through a wide yawn.

  Draken opened the door and strode through, followed by one of the local men who stared about the room as if it would eat him whole and spit out his bones.

  Gavin stood up, rubbed his eyes, and stretched. He considered taking his regular chair, but noticed Draken’s subtle nod toward the baron’s seat. Gavin inspected the new arrival in silence for a few moments, and then sat.

  He had seen the man in passing before but had never talked to him. His fox fur cap marked him as a small game hunter. Gavin tried to formulate a reasonable question with his sleep-fogged mind, but Draken spoke first. “We found the source of the rumors, sir. This is Mick. Would you like me to proceed with questioning him now?”

  Leave it to Draken to know how to intimidate and terrify the locals. His methods wouldn’t work at all if they wanted the man to put thought into his answers. Gavin wanted to learn whatever he could immediately, as much as Draken did, but felt compassion for the man. He nodded to two of the chairs across from him.

  Gavin tried a smile, working to ease Mick’s fears. “Have a seat, both of you. Master Draken didn’t wake you, did he?”

  “No, sir. I was out drinking with the boys when I got summoned. Am I to go to the stocks? I never meant to spy on the king’s council with his barons. By the shards, I didn’t mean it!” Mick sat with his arms to his side as if he expected to be tied down. At least the man stopped flicking glances back and forth like a wild rabbit in a dog kennel.

  Draken flipped his chair around, as usual, and sat. “What we want from you is the truth. A careful and correct account of what you saw. I’m not interested in the tales you told to the barmaids and your friends. Keep to the facts, as plain as you can recall, and we can stay friends.”

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nbsp; Mick blinked and nodded with enthusiasm as he twisted his hat in his hands. “Well, those woods are one of my reg’lar trapping runs, so I was gathering pelts and meat. I got mouths to feed.”

  Draken folded his arms and raised an eyebrow.

  “So, you see, I wasn’t sneaking or interfering or nothin’. I figured if I got too close, the patrols would send me back. Anyhow, the first time I seen a royal patrol, they was already dead. Ripped up. I didn’t want nobody to think I done it, so I marked the spot in my head and then made my way to their camp to let the proper authorities know.”

  Draken interrupted. “Do those authorities include your friends at the alehouse where you’ve been flapping your gums?”

  Mick licked his lips. Gavin was about to intervene to soften the mood when Draken backed off without insisting on an answer.

  Draken said, “What colors were the dead men wearing?”

  “Why, King’s colors, of course. They all wore dark blue. It was his yearly Council after all. But like I said, I hiked to where their camp was, straight away. When I got there, all I saw was bodies and trampled tents. The whole place was a mess, except for one spot at the king’s banner.”

  Gavin held up a hand to interrupt. “All the banners were left up? That’s not normal.”

  “No, sir. The King’s was the only banner flying, like a signal. That’s why I risked a look. The king and his family was all set out in a neat line right under his banner. The queen, both sons, and his daughter, all dead. I seen their paintings in the big hall here at the castle, so I know it was them. Women and children executed, not torn up by war animals like the other bodies I saw out in the camp. I got scared. I didn’t want to be dead myself. I ran back to my camp, got my horse and rode as fast as I dared back here to stay safe. I got here two days back.”

  Gavin balled his fists at the man’s description. He leaned forward with his knuckles on the table to keep his hands from shaking. “Did you see Baron Stoutheart, or did you recognize any others there?” He dreaded what he might hear.

  “Sorry, sir. I never got close to any but the king and his family. The people I saw was all dead and the whole camp wrecked. Even some war animals got killed. That ain’t a good sign for the men controlling them. Men, beasts, women, and children all killed. None were spared as far as I saw.”

  Gavin raised knuckles to his temples and looked at the desk. “So, no news specifically on the Baron. He might still be alive.” It wasn’t very likely, but he refused to say it aloud. He’d never dreamed something this horrible might happen, to violently take away the last of his family all at once. The lack of solid information frustrated him, yet there was the thin hope of his father’s miraculous escape.

  Draken leaned forward. “You’re a hunter. You’ve seen animals that have been dead for a while. How long had these men been dead?”

  “I never thought about it, but I guess they was all fresh dead. They hadn’t bloated up or gone to rot yet, and the blood wasn’t all soaked into the ground or dried out. It was less than a full day.”

  Gavin tried to ignore the images conjured up by the description, and instead figured the numbers in his head and considered the time it would take to ride from the site of the Baron’s Council. It coincided fairly well with his attack in the upper pasture. The events fit together better now but were still confusing. Why try to capture him rather than kill him? If they wanted to capture an heir, they had all the heirs they needed at the King’s Council. With the dozens of bodies Mick had seen, the odds were low anyone survived. Gavin was no closer to fixing his confusion.

  His biggest question was still unanswered. Had his father and brother survived? It was impossible to tell based on what they knew, but it didn’t look good. He heaved a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair, which was still thick with dust and sweat from the trail. He would happily sacrifice a little time to wash up. Maybe clean skin would help to clear his mind. “Master Draken, do you have anything else to ask?”

  “No. Mick, as far as I can tell, you’re lucky to be alive after such a near miss with the ambush. You’re dismissed, but stop spreading stories. As of this moment, you no longer remember visiting the king’s camp. If you talk about it, I will hear. You don’t want that. Do you understand me?”

  Mick bobbed his head up and down. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Master Draken, and you too, sir.” He gripped his hat tight in both hands and beat a hasty retreat.

  Gavin waited for the door to close, then said, “The king’s whole family is gone, too? What were they even doing out there?”

  “The eldest princess was approaching marriageable age. The heirs of all the barons were there to show off and gain her father’s attention. That may be why your father took a larger group of guards and advisers. A show of strength. With them all dead or on the run, we have a problem.”

  Gavin leaned back in his seat. “I don’t see how that has a lot of impact here in our barony.”

  Draken said, “You’re thinking on the wrong scale. What happens to our country if most of the barons and their heirs are gone?”

  Setting aside his worries for the moment, Gavin thought through this new puzzle and whistled. “Right. Kingdom-wide confusion, waiting for word from dead barons, then scrambling to take over. Just like us.”

  Draken said, “Gather your advisers for a formal council tomorrow. All the craft masters, everyone of rank. Shall I attend to gathering them for you?”

  “Do you tell my father what to do like this?”

  “No. I never felt the need to lead him by the nose. He’s never been one to shy away from a decision, but you’re still new at this. I pray you’ll learn some of his skill before this crisis is over. If you’ll grant me my leave, I’ll take care of those invitations to get everyone here by noon tomorrow. Some of them live out in the countryside.”

  Draken’s tone irritated Gavin, but his request made sense. “Of course, Master Draken. The people need some form of leadership until we have a real answer about who died, so I’d better get used to it. Tomorrow at noon, then.”

  Gavin followed Draken to the door, and said to Jase, “I’d like to go to my room now.”

  Jase wrinkled his brow and gave Gavin an odd look. “Master Draken had us move your things to your father’s sleeping quarters. He said it was for security, but if you’re to be the new Baron Stoutheart, these will be your rooms permanently, sir.”

  “I’m not the new baron. Not while my father might still be out there.” Gavin leaned his forehead against the door frame. “Forget it. It’s not your problem to deal with. Thank you for your help.”

  “Sir, if I might give you one piece of unsolicited advice?”

  “Sure. Go ahead. I’d better get used to it.”

  “As much as I like you to thank me for doing my job, your father trained us to be invisible. Ready at a moment’s notice, like a good tool, but out of the way. Begging your pardon, but if you spoke to a guard as you would to a peer in front of another noble, they would see you as weak. In his more generous moods, your father would thank us with a slight nod.”

  Gavin turned to go back into the private conference room and the chambers beyond. “I’m not my father. I’m only here to fill in while he’s gone.”

  The main council chamber was half-empty as Gavin sat at the head of the long table. His father had taken several guards and advisers with him which left the seats nearest to Gavin vacant, isolating him from the rest of the men who gathered at Draken’s request. Mottled, mid-day light made its way through the small windows high up on the wall, while wall lamps tossed yellow light across the stone floor. It smelled of decades of soot, oil, and wax.

  Captain Zachary spoke first. “Sir, we need to respond to the situation.”

  Gavin looked up, realizing the Captain of the Guard had spoken to him. His eyes itched, and his bones ached, not entirely from lack of sleep. “Yes. We have a lot to do.” The reports he had read earlier in the morning described the duties of the Captain of the Guard. Even as tired as he w
as, he mentally built a list of high-level goals. “You’re down several men. This situation could turn into anything from a false alarm to war on our doorstep. What is your recommendation for changes to the guard?”

  The captain’s eyebrows raised with a look of pleasant surprise as Gavin asked him for input instead of telling him what to do. The captain cleared his throat. “If we call the villagers inside the castle walls for security, I can draw on the retired military men to make up the shortage. It will crowd us in tight, but we’ll manage. Our walls aren’t very tall, but they’ll do against a small force. I can expand patrols inside and outside the walls with a dozen more men. If there are more men with the right training, I can use them, too.”

  Master Draken nodded discreetly at the local Merchant’s Guild Master who scowled with concern. Picking up on the cue, Gavin said, “Master Quincy, you look worried.” Gavin didn’t know why the merchant was upset, so he leaned forward to listen.

  “Moving people in before the farmers finish the harvests will make it harder, if not impossible, to do the work. Farmers will need to go out in shifts rather than staying in the fields.”

  That sounded right to Gavin on the surface, but there was another level of concern he felt he missed. Gavin ran through all the new information and put mental puzzle pieces together while staring up at the ceiling. He’d always excelled at puzzles and had spent his winters trading riddles and creating complex rules to games played in the dark halls of the castle. He had never considered the management of the barony as a puzzle until now. He needed to identify the resources that best matched the needs as they came up. He drummed his fingers a few times and then looked back at Captain Zachary.

  “You said you want to expand external patrols. Can you make those patrols consist of farmers already done with their harvests? They can guard the remaining farmers and lend a hand as well.”

  The Captain nodded. “Yes, sir. I can do that. I think I know the right families to call on. Some of the early crops are already in.” He leaned back in his chair.