by Guy Antibes
Grostin snorted. “You certainly were a good student.”
Pol was startled by the grudging compliment, but he continued. “I want North Salvan to survive. The only way to insure that is for you to leave with your sister.”
“What about you?”
Pol grunted. “Does anybody care about me?”
“Amonna does,” Grostin said.
“Can we agree that we must save her?”
Grostin nodded without looking Pol in the eyes.
“Then take her away and return. You’ll only need to be gone for two weeks. Sail north to Tarida, put in at a Taridan port, and return. By then it will all be over.”
“What if King Astor wins?”
Pol shook his head. “The Abbot of Tesna and King Astor are delusional. When the Emperor brings his forces to bear, they’re never defeated. He will bring more men than King Astor has. King Astor had men under compulsion, but most aren’t well-trained. The Emperor has the best trained fighting force on the continent.”
“You really believe that?”
Pol nodded.
“I wish Father would come with us.” Grostin said.
That was a surprising comment. Pol had always thought his brother couldn’t wait to sit on the North Salvan throne. “He won’t.”
“I know.” Grostin looked up at Pol. “If I become King, I will clap you in irons if you return. Believe me on that.”
“I do,” Pol said. “Take care of Amonna.”
Grostin nodded and began to play with the map again as Pol took one last glance back into the classroom.
~
Pol entered the Throne Room. His father had a table stacked with papers sitting by his throne. Four men sat at another table in front of the throne talking quietly.
“Pol, just a few minutes.”
King Colvin turned his attention back to his discussions. He still conducted the business of North Salvan in the face of an attacking army.
He found a wall to lean on. Pol’s own attention turned back to his talk with Grostin. He didn’t know what kind of King his brother would make, but Pol never had taken Grostin as a person with any depth. Their discussion showed him a different view. For some reason, he felt reassured by the introspection he viewed.
Perhaps there was hope for North Salvan under Grostin’s rule. There certainly wasn’t any reason for thinking Pol could return once this was all over, but then Pol had already resigned himself never to return, and here he was waiting for an audience with his father. Everything had been laid bare on this mission, and Pol wondered if he’d be around for any introspection on his own part.
King Astor wouldn’t let Pol live a minute once he conquered Borstall, not even for a day. King Colvin would certainly die, and Pol would be next. He sighed at the thought.
“Pol.” King Colvin drew Pol out of his thoughts. The men had left, along with most of their papers. A small stack still sat next to the King.
Pol approached the King. “I have spoken with Grostin. He has agreed to depart Borstall and linger in Tarida until this is over.”
Colvin nodded. “He must, you know.”
“I do. Is there no hope of you joining them?” Pol had to ask.
“No. I won’t let Astor taint my city without a fight.”
Pol shook his head. “It shouldn’t have been like this.”
“A lot of things have happened that shouldn’t have.”
Pol looked at his father. “Deftnis saved me.”
“It saved all of my family, except for Honna and your mother. I still love them both, you know.”
Pol had to change the subject. “I’ve gone over my analysis with Kelso and Captain Carter. We all think pretty much alike.”
“I was afraid of that,” King Colvin said. “It’s time you sought out that Shinkyan. I think she is an admirable girl. I’ve met few Shinkyans before, but she is very special, and she likes you.” The King immediately turned back to uncomfortable subjects.
“I like her. I’m new to this boy-girl stuff. Maybe it’s ill-fated,” Pol said. “She is not what she seems.”
“Oh? And what does she seem?”
Pol didn’t have an answer, but he’d have to get it out of Shira at some point.
“I’m glad to see your life take on so many new dimensions. Make sure you live to take on even more.”
Fatherly advice? Pol hadn’t engaged in a conversation so serious and personal before. The King had admitted he knew that Pol wasn’t his true son, but he acted more like his father now than he ever had. “I’ll do my best.”
Pol managed a smile and left his father to his paperwork.
~~~
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
~
KELSO AND JAMEY SHARED THE PLANS they had made with Pol. They had asked for his agreement, but Pol had to admit that with his lack of experience, he couldn’t add anything other than the obvious.
Reports had come in about the advancing army. Supplies had dried up from the South and were just trickling in from the West and North. With Covial being an inland capital in South Salvan, King Astor had no navy to blockade the port of Borstall, so the capital relied on ships bringing in what the city needed.
What Borstall needed most was the miracle of the Emperor arriving days earlier than he claimed.
Pol walked back to the castle through the courtyard.
“There you are!” Amonna called. “I wasn’t going to leave without saying goodbye.”
“You’ve talked to Father?” Pol asked.
She nodded. “Grostin is having a few last words. You’ll see me to the docks?”
Pol gave her a smile that he didn’t feel. “I will.”
A carriage drove up packed up with trunks and bags. Grostin obviously expected the castle to be sacked by King Astor.
“There you are, Amonna,” Grostin said. He bowed his head slightly at Pol. “Poldon. Would you accompany us to our ship?”
“Of course.” The request surprised Pol.
Grostin helped Amonna into the carriage before he climbed in himself. Pol followed after.
The ride would only take a few minutes, but Pol wanted to remember his sister’s face as she held his hands in her own.
“Father insisted that we say our farewells,” Grostin said. “Our words in the old nursery still represent my true feelings.” Mercifully, Grostin didn’t recount them in front of Amonna.
“Take good care of her, Grostin.”
He nodded. “I will guard her with my life.” The words jarred Pol under the circumstances.
“What will you do after the Emperor comes?” Amonna asked.
Pol honestly hadn’t put much thought into that.
“I probably won’t be here when you return. I’ll either go back to Deftnis or perhaps take a tour of Volia.”
“Volia! Why would you do such a thing?”
“My mother said she had distant relatives from there.” Pol plucked his silvery blond hair. “That’s where we both got this.” He gave her a smile.
She grabbed his arm. “You are so grim. Everything will be all right.”
“Perhaps. I’ll make sure I think of you everyday.” He grabbed her hands again.
“And will you think of me, as well?” Grostin said.
Pol looked over at Grostin, baiting him at this last hour. “Maybe not you, every day.” He watched Grostin nod a bit too knowingly.
They reached the dock, and Pol helped the driver unload the bags, which were lugged aboard by sailors.
“One last hug. I’m so glad we were able to see each other again,” Amonna said.
Pol hugged her and looked over her shoulder at Grostin. His brother just smirked. Pol decided then that he would find a way to reunite with his sister, even if he had to beg the Emperor to grant Amonna an audience in Yastan.
With that thought, he broke off his hug. He shook his brother’s hand. “I truly wish you well, Grostin.” He looked the soon-to-be King of South Salvan in the eye. “I really do. You and Landon both.”
>
Grostin looked away and took a deep breath. “I believe you do, but that doesn’t change anything.”
“What?” Amonna said.
“Nothing. Something about Pol’s future. Father knows all about it. I’ll tell you when we return.”
Amonna looked confused and gazed at both of her brothers.
“Grostin is right. It doesn’t change anything.” Pol repeated Grostin’s words but put his own meaning behind them.
The sea captain walked up and bowed to Grostin. “We must be off, My Prince. The tide.”
Grostin took Amonna’s arm. “It’s time to sail.”
They walked up the plank walkway to the ship. It was raised, and the ship drifted out until the wind truly hit the sails, and with Amonna waving to him from the stern, Pol saw his sister off. He vowed he would see her again and even Grostin under better circumstances.
He stood and watched the ship disappear until someone bumped his arm.
“There you are,” Paki said, his face uncharacteristically somber. He looked out to sea. “Oh. Amonna was on that ship?”
Pol nodded.
“It’s a good thing she’s gone. The enemy has been spotted from the city walls.
~
Pol looked up at the men lining the city’s ramparts. His horse bucked a bit, while the gate opened, and he followed Banson Hisswood, King Colvin’s chief advisor, and Jamey Carter for a parlay.
His role was to provide a shield for the two men. The wind blew cold under a low overcast. The sun was up, but it didn’t have the strength to punch through the clouds.
King Astor, Abbot Festor, and Manda, Astor’s magician, sat on their horses beneath a white banner, rippling in the raw breeze. All of the men wore full armor. The Abbot had a maroon tabard with an extra-large embroidered symbol of Tesna worked in gold thread. The other two wore the powder blue colors of South Salvan.
“I see young Poldon has returned to his father’s side. Are you a prince again? It won’t be for long.”
“I’m no prince, but my father has asked me to join this parley.”
Astor looked around. “Where is Prince Grostin?”
“He is otherwise occupied, King Astor,” Hisswood said. His iron gray beard shook while he talked, but mostly it blew along with the banner. “My King requests you to leave North Salvan. Trespassing on his land with an illegal army will result in your deaths, all three of you.”
The Abbot smiled as Pol felt the pressure of mind-control. He had shielded both Hisswood and Jamey Carter before they left the city.
“Stop it,” Pol said quietly, looking directly at Festor.
“Stop what, boy?”
“The mind-control spell. That is an act of aggression during a parlay. Under Imperial terms it allows me to attack you.”
The Abbot sneered. “Attack away.”
The pressure continued.
“Kill the boy,” Abbot Fester said to Jamey.
“Why would I do that?”
The Abbot’s eyes widened.
“You might have known me in my disguise as Nater Grainell,” Pol said. “Actually I am Deftnis-trained, to your dismay.”
“My dismay? Deftnis monks are charlatans compared to the true might of Tesnan magic. You are nothing but a common traitor.”
The intensity of Festor’s spell pounded against Pol’s shields. “That is enough,” Pol said. “You are too arrogant.”
“Don’t you dare judge me,” Festor said.
“Stop it, Abbot,” Manda said, putting his hand on the Abbot’s arm.
Festor pulled his arm away. “You don’t command me!”
The pressure didn’t stop, so Pol pulled a knife out of his boot and teleported it into the Abbot’s heart. The man fell off his horse.
Manda looked at King Astor with astonishment. “My shield didn’t stop his knife!”
Astor’s eyes widened as he looked down at the body. “You killed Onkar and the Princess?”
Pol nodded. “And I was instrumental in Bythia killing herself with the poison she intended for my brother.”
“You!” King Astor said. He reached for his sword, but then he lifted up his hand. “I haven’t done anything. You’ve made your point.” He again looked down at the Abbot’s body. “You will not surrender?”
Hisswood shook his head. “No.”
“Hand over my wife and this boy along with King Colvin’s head, and we will move on to Tarida without destroying Borstall.”
“No,” Hisswood said. He turned and led Pol and Jamey back to the castle. A flight of arrows bounced off Pol’s shield just before they passed through the gate.
King Colvin stopped them just as the guards sealed the entrance to the city. “You killed one of them?” He looked at Pol.
“Abbot Festor attempted mind-control. I asked him to stop, but he refused. I put an end to his personal dream of world-domination. Now all who is left is Manda, Astor’s Court Magician—”
“I know who he is. And King Astor, of course,” King Colvin said, “with his thousands of soldiers.”
“He said he would move on to Tarida if Queen Isa, Pol, and your head were delivered to them,” Hisswood said.
The King grew red in the face. “How I ended up liking him is beyond me.”
“You were forced to like him,” Pol said.
Colvin nodded. “I was, wasn’t I?” He shook his head and galloped back to the castle, letting the others follow. “Now we have to fight stall so Emperor Hazett will obliterate them. There are worse ways to die.” He turned his horse around and silently led them to the castle.
“When will they attack?” the King asked as soon as he dismounted in the castle courtyard.
“I don’t think they have any reason to wait,” Hisswood said.
The King looked at all three of them in turn and sighed. “I’ll be in the castle’s war room with a city map. You all have your defensive areas. I intend to make the decision when to pull back to the castle walls. The longer we can delay Astor’s army, the better chance the Emperor will have of getting here in time.”
Pol knew what delay meant. Thousands would be killed. Innocent Borstall citizens would suffer along with the armed men inside the city walls. He took a deep breath and left them talking about details.
He had his own personal duties. The King had put him in charge of protecting Queen Isa. Kolli and Horker would be by her side at all times. Queen Isa promised she would take one of the few ships left in port, a merchantman bound for Volia. Kell’s father owned the ship. Paki and Kell would make sure it was ready to go when the time came.
Pol hoped he would be able to convince his father to leave at the very end. He didn’t think the chances were good, but Pol had try. Until then, Shira and Pol would be at the city walls, fighting for as long as they could before retreating.
Pol walked to his old rooms through all the frenetic activity. Guards, soldiers, and servants rushed back and forth on errands. When he opened the door, Shira put her arms around him. Pol backed up a step with surprise.
“You’re alive,” she said. “I was worried that they would do something to upset the parlay.”
Pol wondered if he should attempt to hug her back, but he still had armor on. “Abbot Festor tried to apply mind-control. He was a bit too smug about violating Imperial parlay terms. I warned him three times and then took care of him. Shields don’t stop teleporting. Did you know that?”
“Just like Honna?”
Pol nodded. “And Onkar. It’s too easy. At least it’s too easy for me. When this is all over, I’m going to have to think about what is right and what is wrong. Teleporting weapons into someone’s body is effective, but…” He shook his head, wondering again what kind of person he had become. “That’s for another time. Get your armor on. We are headed back to the top of the walls.”
Shira disappeared into Horker’s room and came out fully armed. “Will you help me carry quivers?”
Pol smiled. “That’s the least I can do,” he said. “We can check on
Horker and Kolli on the way out.”
They walked purposefully through the castle and stood in front of Queen Molissa’s old rooms. Kolli and Horker sat on chairs situated at each side of the doors.
“We’re heading out to the walls. Once you have word that they have been breached, take the Queen to the docks. You three can stay on the ship. I hope we can hold out for two or three days.”
Queen Isa walked out in the same outfit she had worn when they headed for Borstall. Pol noticed the sword buckled to her hip.
“You know how to use that?”
She looked at Pol sideways. “We’ve been through that before.”
Pol gave Isa a bit of a bow. “No heroics. King Astor asked for you and for me as conditions for surrender. I think he wants to enjoy killing us both slowly.”
“And painfully, if I know Astor.” She exhaled and nodded her head. “No heroics.”
“Good.”
Horker stood. “Are you sure you don’t need me on the walls?”
“Is the Queen more important than one additional man against thousands?”
The former monk nodded. “As always, you are correct. I will remain vigilant in my assignment.” He looked over at Kolli.
“Don’t worry about us, just go. I’ve already got our bags packed. Every soldier killed is one less that can get to the Queen,” she said.
Pol saluted the way the North Salvan soldiers did. Kolli was the only one who returned Pol’s salute. He took Shira’s hand, and they both left for the walls.
~~~
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
~
THE ARMY HAD STOPPED TO SET UP CAMP well away from the ranged weapons arrayed on the walls.
Pol walked up to Jamey. “Where’s Kelso?”
“He’s getting his family out of Borstall. Astor hasn’t wheeled his forces around to the north yet. He will command that side of the city, and Hisswood will take the south.”
With Grostin as King of North Salvan, Kelso had vowed to leave the country, or at least Borstall. Pol expected the man to be true to his word.
“Have you shot any weapons yet?”
Jamey shook his head. “It looks like they know our range well enough.”
Pol smiled. “Want to give them something to think about?”
Jamey swiveled his eyes from the activity of the South Salvan army to Pol. “Magic?”