by Guy Antibes
Val and Queen Isa let Shira pretend to be an adopted daughter at one inn. Horker and Pol were father and son at another and Kelso and Darrol decided to spend one last night together talking about old times in the Borstall Castle guard, while the captured soldier, Seen, remained tied up in their room. The man understood and agreed to be trussed as long as they brought him some food and ale.
Kelso claimed that inn where Pol stayed was the best of the three. Pol looked in a mirror for the first time in days and changed back into Nater’s face. After the inevitable pain settled down, he colored his hair beginning to show light roots. A few white-looking whiskers were evident on his chin and upper lip. He fixed that quickly and lay down on his bed.
Too many changes, Pol thought. He thought of Shira and how she fought at the cliff. She had plenty of courage. Probably more than he did. He would have more personal patterning to do in the very near future in order to work in the changes in his life, his body, and his attitude. He looked over at Horker already asleep after a satisfying meal in the tavern side of the inn’s common rooms. What would he do about him?
This was the last night they would all be together. Pol wanted to talk to Val, but that opportunity wouldn’t come. He felt disappointment and had thought Val was a better friend. Perhaps Val would never be a real friend, knowing the man.
Pol looked at the eventual parting with dread. Borstall lay less than a week to the north, and his reunion with his stepfather and stepsiblings could only bring anger or pain on both sides. They had to be warned. Even in the inn, there was talk of the South Salvan army at the border.
Pol hoped that the Imperial army to the west had heard the same rumors. It might end up being a race of two armies to see who would end up with Borstall. If the Emperor arrived too late, Pol’s life would be forfeit and who knew how the Tesnans would treat Horker and Isa?
Shira and Kelso could just disappear, but he doubted that Horker would allow Queen Isa to do the same. He sighed and realized that there was nothing he could do until the pattern of the conflict became clearer. Malden Gastoria had told him months and months ago that deciphering a pattern in time of war was an imprecise effort.
Horker woke Pol before the sun had risen. “Val is outside, ready to go.”
Pol sputtered for a bit, jerking out of a deep sleep. He had been dreaming of something, but the vision evaporated as soon as he opened his eyes. He pulled on his clothes and grabbed his bags.
Down at the inn’s stable, the seven in their party stomped around in the cold of the morning.
“Darrol, I’ll miss you,” Pol said. He hugged his friend. “Not so ‘sworn’ this time?”
“I’ll be by your side soon enough, My Prince.” He laughed. “It’s funny calling you that in North Salvan. By the time this is over, we can talk to Paki about it at Deftnis, right?”
Pol nodded and thought that he also wished he could talk to Demeron at Deftnis, but the horse was long gone.
Val put out his hand. Pol shook it. “You’ve done well, this time. I think changing back to Nater’s appearance is the right thing to do. Choose the appropriate time to announce your true identity. The Emperor will be pleased with my report.”
“He won’t be if you don’t get those books to him. They have to come up with a way to remove the compulsion on a large scale, or it might take a hundred magicians to settle down the Tesnan Guardians.”
“If that’s what it takes, Hazett will find a way. If he doesn’t, Ranno Wissingbel will do it for him,” Val said. “We’ll be leaving first.” Val mounted and nodded for Darrol to do the same.
“Good luck,” Pol said.
Val turned back. “I don’t think it’s us that’ll be needing luck.” He waved to them, and Pol’s two friends trotted out of the stable yard.
“It’s time for us to leave,” Pol said. “We can make it to Borstall in three days if we don’t dally.”
Isa nodded. “I’m one for not dallying.” She climbed up on her horse. Pol mounted and brought up the rear with Kelso leading the way. The Queen didn’t look like a Queen any longer. She reminded him more of Kolli, the scout who helped Pol on his trip to the Taridan border when he was still a prince of North Salvan.
As they rode through the sleepy town, yet to fully wake, the departure wasn’t the tearing apart of the group who had shared hardship and adventure in their flight that Pol had thought. There was an anticipation of more adventure to come, but perhaps their hardships were over.
~
Each night they spent in another town or village. Every stay they duplicated what they had done in Hilltown, sleeping at different inns in different combinations. On the morning of the fourth day, Pol’s stomach flipped a hundred times as they entered the gates of Borstall and rode to the castle. Pol looked around at the familiar sights. He felt the absence of his mother’s presence in the city and expected to be arrested.
Kelso was no longer Captain of the Guard, but he had been commissioned by King Colvin to see what was stirring in Covial, even if he hadn’t really been appointed ambassador, so they decided to let Kelso go on ahead, and hopefully, prepare the way for them.
“Are you nervous?” Isa said. “I am. A hard-riding messenger could have reached Borstall days ahead of us.”
“Did you tell anyone else you wanted to go to Borstall?” Shira asked.
“My ladies all knew. It wouldn’t take much for Manda to crack through their loyalty,” Isa said. “Although I’m hardly able to present myself as much of a queen dressed like this.” She felt her face. “My appearance is hampered by being so long in the elements.”
“I can help you, Isa.”
Shira called the Queen, Isa? Pol thought of the woman that way, but he had always used her title. They must have grown quite close. In the Empire, only peers would think of shedding honorifics.
“How is that?”
Shira smiled. “I am a magician, after all.”
Pol shivered a bit at her crafty expression. He didn’t know why he reacted like that, but he wondered how many things he didn’t know about his former roommate, probably a countless number.
“Along here,” Pol said, shifting them to a different lane, a shortcut to the road leading to the castle’s main gate. If Pol wanted a discreet entrance, he knew of a few, but it wouldn’t help convince King Colvin of the truth if he sneaked into the castle he had spurned.
They threaded their way through throngs of North Salvan citizens. Not very long ago, Pol would have been instantly recognized as Prince, but not now. Five weary horses plodded along the street. Up ahead loomed the castle gate.
Pol had a notion to turn around and head west to the Emperor’s army. Now that he had delivered Kelso and the Queen, the warning would be delivered. He looked back and saw a squad of the Castle Guard clear the street, two rows riding four abreast.
Looking for a way out, Pol could see none. The crowds melted as the mounted guards approached. Looking ahead, there was another set of eight mounted guards doing much the same in the other direction. Without Val and Darrol, they had little hope of fighting these men.
“Carry on as if they are a welcoming escort,” Pol said. “You’ll get lost if you veer from this main road.” His stomach sank. This was what he feared most.
The guard approached. An unfamiliar man in the livery of the Captain of the Guard rode up. “Queen Isa Hairo of South Salvan? Welcome to Borstall. We will escort you to the King.”
What else could they say, riding among the people crowded along the sides of the road? Pol heard the murmurings of ‘queen’ on the lips of astonished citizens. Shira shrugged her shoulders and let Pol and Isa lead their little group squeezed between two squads of King Colvin’s guard.
They weren’t stopped at the castle gate like Pol had originally expected, but rode right through to the main courtyard. On the castle steps, King Colvin looked impassively on. Kelso stood by his side. Pol couldn’t read the former Captain of the Guard’s expression, and that worried him.
The curre
nt Captain dismounted and helped Queen Isa down from her mount as the others did the same from their own.
King Colvin walked down the steps and stood in front of the Queen. “I understand you seek an asylum of sorts?” He barely glanced at Pol and the others.
“I do. My husband has assembled an army, joining with the monks of Tesna, heading this way. I wanted to warn you and walk the gardens of Borstall Castle.”
“I’m sure there is more to it than that. We have had a messenger. Astor said that you suffered a breakdown of sorts.” The King glanced back at Kelso. “Somehow, the truth is between the two.”
Pol’s heart leapt to his throat. He wore a disguise, but in his mind, he was stripped naked of all illusions in front of his stepfather.
“Isa, would you introduce me to your companions? Kelso, I know well enough.”
“I would be delighted. This is Shira. She has recently become my current lady.”
“A Shinkyan. I haven’t heard of you having such an exotic person at your side.”
“She has hidden talents, Colvin. I owe my life to her.”
Colvin’s eyes passed by her and looked at Horker. “A lapsed monk, by the look of his hair.”
“Indeed. He helped me escape from the midst of the Tesnan army.”
Pol held back a smile. It was a quartermaster camp, but he guessed the guards around her tent were Onkar’s soldiers.
“A common soldier?” Colvin asked.
“His name is Seen. We captured him when we fought the South Salvans,” Isa said.
“What?” King Colvin glared at Kelso. “You put Queen Isa in danger?”
The Queen giggled. “Don’t fuss, Colvin. We took care of them. Nater is a magician.”
King Colvin glanced at Pol, but turned back to talk to Horker. “I want to thank you, Nater. It must have been an honor saving your Queen.”
“Actually, I did, My King,” Shira said, raising her hand. “I’m rather good with a bow and tolerable with a sword.”
Isa giggled again. “She’s a magician, too, but Horker didn’t save me, Nater did.”
King Colvin finally understood who was who and turned to Pol. “You? You’re just a boy.”
“Sixteen, and if I may be so bold, a prodigy at Deftnis,” Pol said.
King Colvin’s face darkened. “Deftnis. My son lives there.” It wasn’t a very enthusiastic confession.
“Poldon?” Pol said, trying to keep his heart from pounding in his ears. He took a deep breath. “He has done well. He found an errant healer, who helped him with his heart.”
“I heard. He helped King Landon with a, uh, difficulty.” King Colvin looked at Queen Isa. “I am so sorry, Isa.”
The Queen rubbed her hands briskly. “I’m not. Let’s move inside where it’s nice and warm and there might be a bit to eat.”
Colvin blinked his eyes. “Of course.” He led the way up into the castle.
Pol had endured a partial return. At some point he would have to change his face, but perhaps he could put that off for a time. Was he a coward for thinking that? Pol shook his head. He hoped not.
~~~
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
~
POL DIDN’T MIND NOT GETTING HIS OLD ROOM. Still, he had a nicer room than any he had stayed in since he left Borstall. It still had two beds, like his room at Castle Covial, but it was twice the size and every item was well-made. Queen Isa occupied his mother’s quarters. At least Honna hadn’t seized that prize yet. Shira had one of the two ‘ladies’ rooms’ adjacent to Isa’s suite.
Isa and Pol’s stepfather ate a private lunch in the family dining room. Seen occupied one of the nicer cells in the castle guard’s jail, and Horker was in a room down the hall. Pol stepped out into the corridor to see a servant disappear in the monk’s room, carrying a tray. Pol had begged off lunch in his room and decided to make friends with the Borstall kitchen. He had fond memories of seeking refuge among the delicious smells with his friend Paki.
He walked down familiar corridors, still dressed in his chainmail. King Colvin had promised them fresh clothes before a more formal dinner that evening. Pol wondered why the King wasn’t sending out forces to attack, or at least slow down, the South Salvan army.
His feet followed his nose, and with relish he pushed the swinging door that led into the kitchen. He spied Paki’s mother testing a soup of some kind. She hadn’t changed a bit, but what did Pol expect? He’d only been gone for a bit more than a year.
“Can I help you?” one of the cooks asked. Pol recognized her, but couldn’t remember her name.
“I just arrived today from South Salvan—“
Her eyebrows flew up. “You were one of those who saved Queen Isa!” She looked a bit confused. “We don’t know who you saved her from. Can you tell us?”
Pol smiled and took a seat. “Soldiers. I’m not at liberty to give you many details, but the Queen scaled a rock cliff, ready to throw rocks down on the attackers. Unbeknownst to her, two of them sneaked up the cliff in a different place and tried to rush her. That’s when her lady used her bow to take them down.”
“Not true,” Shira said as she entered the room. “I see you beat me here.” She smiled at the cook. “I took one down with an arrow and the other felt the sting of my sword.” She narrowed her eyes to look fierce.
Pol had to keep from laughing. Both of them were being a bit boastful, but he enjoyed seeing the cooks’ eyes light up.
“You’re a Shinkyan! We’ve never entertained one at Borstall Castle, for as long as I have been here.”
“And you’re a North Salvan Imperial, and I’ve never seen you before until this instant!” Shira said and then laughed. “My name is Shira, and yours?”
The woman coughed, hiding her fluster. “I am Addy, My Lady.” The woman blushed.
“I am pleased to meet you. Can we get something to eat, Addy?” Shira said in a much more amiable voice.
Paki’s mother came over. “You’re the Deftnis boy?” she said to Pol. “Word gets around the castle quickly. You must know my boy, Pakkingail?”
“I’m good friends with him. I understand Kell Digbee and he were here during Harvest Break.”
“If you must know, they are still here. I’ll send him around.”
“What? Why didn’t they return to Deftnis?”
Paki’s mother waved her hand. “Something to do with Kell’s uncle. He took sick and Kell had to help run their business. They’ll be returning to Deftnis just after Winter’s Day.”
“So can I see them?” Pol said, without thinking.
“Just wait here for half-an-hour or so. They generally come at that time, begging like puppies for some of my wonderful food.” She giggled. “In the meantime, Addy can get you whatever you want, fresh, too, not leftovers. We’ll treat you just like the royal family.”
Shira looked like she enjoyed the food that seemed to taste like paste to Pol. He hoped he could keep his stomach from roiling with nerves. What would he do about his Deftnis friends? Would they see through his disguise as easily as Shira and Queen Isa had? He looked around the kitchen. He had better memories away from the formal corridors in the castle.
He looked at Paki’s mother, who kept asking if they needed anything else to eat, and thought of Siggon, Paki’s father, who had died helping Pol at his first sword tournament. That was a bitter memory that had made Pol stronger. He felt that was the start of the end of his childhood. He wiped a tear from his eye.
“Onion? Spicy?” Shira said.
“Memories,” Pol said, sighing. “I was overcome for a moment. My life hasn’t been all happiness. Just because you are a prince doesn’t mean you are happy.”
“I know that,” she said.
“How? I thought you said you’re a merchant’s daughter.”
Shira smiled and turned red. “Of course I am. There are royal students at the Academy. I knew a few of them. As I said when we first met, there are palace intrigues and politics in Shinkya. One only needs to stand still and notice
all of it boiling around you like a stormy sea.”
“Have you been on the sea?”
Shira giggled. “Never, but I’ve read about it. Our capital is inland like Covial.”
“We can walk to the docks tomorrow, if you’d like. This time of year, the waves are higher, but I really hadn’t been on them until I took the boat from Mancus to Deftnis Isle. You should ride the waves in a small boat if you want a taste of your stormy sea. Ask Paki when you meet him.”
She beamed at Pol, evidently happier with her current surroundings than the melancholy that Pol fought.
“He’s right over there,” Paki’s mother said.
Kell and Paki walked over to Pol. “My mother said you knew us at Deftnis,” Paki said.
Pol stood up. “My name is Nater Grainell. You don’t remember me?”
Shira stood as well. “He just told me to ask you about your first boat ride to Deftnis Isle.”
After a moment’s thought, Paki grabbed Pol by the arms. “Nater?”
Pol nodded.
“How could I ever forget that little voyage? I remember when Val put you to sleep, and you woke just in time to help me up the ladder.”
“Yes. I knew you’d remember,” Pol said. His melancholy vanished in an instant as he hugged his best friend. “It’s good to see you. Being in this place is a trial for a humble farm boy.”
“Humble?” Kell said. “It’s good to see you, although you’ve changed in the last three months.”
“We all can change. Shira has changed quite a bit since the first time I met her.”
She smiled, but Pol didn’t know how much mirth was behind it. “I hope you like the way I’ve changed,” she said through her teeth.
“Sit down, we have a quite a story to tell, but not if anyone comes near, got it?”
Kell and Paki’s heads bobbed up and down. Pol wondered of Paki had been an appropriate influence on Kell. They listened to Pol’s story, punctuated with comments by Shira as he told them of his adventure.
“So Demeron’s really lost, eh?” Paki asked.
“I have to assume so,” Pol said. “There is no way he knows where I am. I just hope he is doing well.” He looked at Shira. “How are horses like Demeron treated in Shinkya?”