IV
Towards the approach of nightfall the household guard, one by one, and not at all moving in groups, marched toward the lower cellars. The summons had been suspicious and came from a man that could give some answers for minds questioning recent events. The only request was to keep it quiet, and pass on the news by soft spoken word and nothing else. It was for the good of the Kingdom they all said.
Converging in an old cellar where none in the castle had any business, the household guard saw that Naceus was already waiting, alongside Metrus the Druid, deBella and Merohan, Captain of the guard. Even Gremhalden was in attendance and sat far at the back. They had brought in several ranks of chairs facing toward Naceus, waiting patiently for the seats to fill up.
Finally considering everyone present, Naceus put aside his pipe and took a deep breath before taking the floor. He had given many lectures in his life to many good students, but he had never before spoken before a gathering of warriors. Their eyes were steely and had none of the expectation and openness that young students would have.
‘I bid you welcome, each of you, friends I’d call you, because we are all here for the fate of Her Grace, Princess Shala. I thank you for attending and I will make clear the reason for your summons before long. In light of our assault on the castle I’m almost scared to speak, lest another agent of Swarztial jumps out and jails me for conspiracy, but Merohan has looked at each of you and has told me that every man here is trustworthy, and I trust as much.
‘I saw many of you just the other day at the Queen’s table. Humbling was it not? Sitting there with royalty, and urged to be at ease and be merry.’ Naceus took a bit of a pause, the men seemed impatient; he would have to be concise with them. ‘My council with you regards the Dream of Embers and as each of you is part of the household guard I trust that you know the fundamental process of it? If not, do not hesitate to ask.’
Salonce nudged Urad in the ribs and the two men looked at each other, their eyes telling one another that they had no clue on how the Dream of Embers works. Yet they did not ask, the other men seemed well-informed. For Urad and Salonce this was an important council, and that was all it was, and they’d follow whatever may come after it.
‘I know we are here more bound to the prospecting taker of the throne than Princess Shala. I know the Princess is now in exile and by all reason we no longer owe her any real servitude. But I am here to make a request on another kind of duty, one you will not find on paper or by the oaths you've sworn.’
The soldiers looked on him with some expectation now.
‘Princess Shala, despite her youth, is the wisest and kindest ruler we could hope for. Alternative to her we are faced with crowning a King with little sense of honour and a host of Council members playing him to the flute. Our Princess will, in exile, eventually come to make a pilgrimage to Nem Nemuris.’ This had the soldiers squirming and looking at each other.
‘Of this I am sure because of the knowledge that I have and the knowledge she will gain in time. Bless her if she succeeds, because it will help the world much and restore some much needed order - but I do not wish to lose her, not so that the crown is given to Patrick of Sannil. That price is too high to pay...’
‘You would impede on someone taking the pilgrimage!’ shot one of the soldiers, his voice already hinting at outrage. There was a murmur among the men, as if the Scholar had been blasphemous.
Naceus held up his hands. ‘Not at all, rather I’d like to let someone take the Princess’s place, so that she may, one day, take her rightful place on the throne of Attoras. So that when we bow to a ruler, we bow to one we know and love.’
His audience of soldiers quickly went from irritation to confusion.
‘There is no other in the House of Evrelyn and it is the last house that can now contribute to the Dream, have you forgotten this old man?’ asked Gibbon the Marshal.
‘Let’s not make comments on each other’s age Gibbon, you are not much younger than me,’ said Naceus with a chuckle. ‘There is one still viable, our very own King Anka, laid to rest in days past.’
Now there was an even greater murmur and Merohan had to silence them to give Naceus a chance to explain.
‘Our Princess Shala, upon her father’s wishes, sealed his spirit within his body and the body itself is preserved by the spell. It will not last long, but it will last long enough for a speedy journey to Nem Nemuris. The soul is the fundamental piece crucial to blossoming and-’
‘What the Scholar is getting at,’ cut in Metrus, seeing Naceus delving into a long tirade on the properties of the soul, ‘...is that King Anka can still travel with a proper escort just like the Princess intended in the first place.’
Marshal Gibbon laughed. ‘Chancellor Swarztial will never allow us to take the King from his tomb, even if it were the right thing to do!’
‘Swarztial has no part in my plan, and best he does not know of it until it is too late to stop us,’ said Naceus.
‘Gods man, you wish to break into the King’s tomb and remove him? To desecrate the grave of Kings and soil his dignity? We’ll all be criminals! Graverobbers!’ said Gibbon, his words sparking outcry.
Now there was no stopping them and Naceus knew despite Merohan’s efforts he would need to wait until all the angry arguments passed between the men. He could hear deBella's voice drowned among the men's as she pleaded for them to see the reason in this. At this time Gremhalden stood up and just for a moment everyone calmed down, waiting on his response in expectation. But he simply walked out, giving Naceus an unreadable glance and left the room in apparent irritation. Right then Naceus's heart sank to his stomach and the arguments started anew.
He did not get a chance to speak until Gibbon hushed everyone and said:
‘Scholar, I am certain I can talk for most here when I say that we grieve for the King and his daughter, but what you ask is too much. Soldiers and men of the guard are mostly simple beings and lead simple lives, and so we will stay. We cannot give ourselves over to ambiguity, not when we owe the new King-to-be loyalty, whatever faults he may have. The sovereignty of Attoras will in some ways always come first. The merits of the task you lay out are too woolly, it seems like a bull-headed plan to start with, and we cannot see if it will bring justice. Let it go man. We’ll be better off staying here and serving Attoras as we’ve always done.’
‘Yes, we’ll be fine for a while. And we'll turn a blind eye as subjects sometimes have to do. Then comes the day the corruption has crept so far across the walls that we can smell the stink of a foul reign. Wraith-kind and more, this is what Evrelyn kept out of Attoras.
‘What I can tell you is that I will not serve under a pig-king like Patrick,’ said Naceus taking everyone by surprise. He had never said something against another in anger and name-calling wasn’t something he often lent himself to.
‘After our near destruction there is an easy way out, men. We can stay here and swear ourselves to a new King, but we all know he will be King in name only, and will become a tyrant in law and practice. Let us take this gamble and set forth, do not doubt for a moment the honour of this quest! The need for it! I cannot command you and cannot even advise you to leave so much behind, but I implore you, those of you who can, those of you who have seen the heart of the Princess, come with me. We’ll take the King on his final journey and spare the Princess a fate as good as death.’
His audience seemed to agree with him, but they also met him with a silence that was now almost worse than the arguments. They were reluctant.
In the meanwhile Gremhalden had returned, rather unexpectedly, standing in the door and everyone turned to him, again looking for some indication on what he thought about the entire matter. Naceus wondered how long he had stood there, looking as mad as he did.
‘Did you forget something Master Gremhalden?’ spoke Naceus nervously.
‘No, but I did in fact leave something in my quarters which I shouldn’t have. I have gone back to fetch it.’ He drew a dagger, one made for close c
ombat. He walked limply towards Naceus and no one knew if they should jump up and stop him. With a sudden plunge Gremhalden struck the dagger into one of the smaller round tables, the blade slicing right into the wood so that it stuck there, upright.
Scholar Naceus held his hand over his heart in fright, relieved to find he was not stabbed like the table. Gremhalden left the dagger in the table and stepped closer to the men and he addressed them:
‘There is an old way of saying farewell for those who take a crusade of personal honour. It is a pledge for men to strike their knives into a table, and to leave them there until they return. They leave behind family and respected jobs, with no promise of glory or victory, because the thing they chase is the most important thing a man can accomplish with his life. He knows in his heart it’s the right thing to do. I say to you, to those of you who can spare yourself and tear yourself away from a good life, this is the right thing to do...Search your hearts,’ he said, ‘there is no shame in staying, in fact we can only take so many men and the men who stay will have important roles as well...’ he added. Again silence and motionlessness greeted Naceus, but Gremhalden stared at all of them steely.
Urad and Salonce looked at each other, and then Urad slowly raised his hand, hoping for Gremhalden's attention.
‘What is it?’ asked the old Knight.
‘I don't have a knife on me sir,’ he said lamely, and as though that posed any great problem.
Laughter rippled through the men, breaking much of the tension.
Gremhalden chortled and chucked a spare knife at the man, seemingly from nowhere, landing softly in the man's lap. ‘I thought I might need to bring a spare, but that's the last one I can offer mind you!’
Salonce and Urad then eagerly stood up, ambling to the table and struck their knives into it, immediately followed by Captain Merohan. They had barely taken their seats before others rose to do the same, the men circulating knives to those who would commit but weren't armed with such. Even deBella procured one from somewhere and it was struck in between the other men's.
‘There, we have a company! Now I don't suppose you will be so kind as to tell us how you seek to accomplish our quest?’ asked Gibbon, who was also one of the first to plunge his knife, even though he had objected most of all.
‘Invariably I will need to reveal the details of it as we go along. Even the men staying behind cannot know too much lest they are made to talk somehow,’ said Naceus.
‘I was afraid you might turn secretive on us,’ sighed Gibbon.
‘I apologize, but if any of you have questions then please raise them and I'll answer as best I can.’
Naceus saw the soldier named Tordke raise his hand in question. Naceus knew the man to be a well-read person, with knowledge of logistics, so he knew what kind of question Tordke would ask.
‘But what if the Princess doesn’t reach Nem Nemuris? We can’t travel the trail of the Masons like the Princess can, and only she can open the gate for us once on the inside. There are only two ways into Nem Nemuris, and we need someone to take the one road we can’t. We can travel all that way only to be locked out of the valley where kings come to rest. And what still about the moon Castilleon, it will be full and past its cycle in two months’ time. We’ll not make it!’
Naceus nodded. ‘It will be a mission of faith. Many things can go wrong I’ll admit, and we’ll need only one ill-fortune to sink our quest. But trust me when I say our journey will be nothing conventional, I have come upon a way we can travel in relative safety and with immense efficiency.’
Salonce raised his hand and asked. ‘Can we call ourselves Wolves now?’
Naceus smiled widely as the other men laughed and the Scholar shook his head, Salonce looking embarrassed.
‘No, my friend. We have neither the talent nor the right to call ourselves that, though it be a prideful name. The real Wolves are already guiding our Princess and our missions are not the same. Besides, can you imagine the wrath we will incur calling ourselves Wolves all the way to Nem Nemuris, when even the Crimson City disapproves of the men of the Black Mountain? No, rather we will be secretive and faceless, and if possible spark no confrontation on our way.
‘Although, there is a name I think we can take: the Queen’s own, it has a charm to it, and I think it describes our loyalties rather clearly.’
‘Isn’t that a bit revealing, Scholar, and optimistic besides? It’s a long road before the Princess’ name can be cleared and her finally inaugurated as Queen,’ asked Tordke.
‘Then let’s choose it because it’s optimistic, she is already our Queen, we might as well admit to a name that says that we won’t stop until she takes her rightful place on the throne.’
‘Aye!’ yelled some of the men in the back, and Naceus smiled. It seemed Gremhalden had inspired a change of heart, and for that Naceus was thankful.
‘There it is then! From now until each dagger is pulled from this table we’ll be the Queen’s Own. Let no man or foul creature tear us asunder!’ said Naceus.
The men cheered silently, now talking excitedly amongst themselves, and Naceus let them revel in this commitment they had made.
Satisfied that the soldiers were preoccupied, the Scholar pulled Metrus aside, so that the two of them could talk privately once more.
‘Now as for your role, you'd best serve as our eyes for the road and maybe more importantly, act as our communication with the Princess.’
‘There's more?’ asked Metrus intuitively.
‘Yes,’ said Naceus, handing Metrus a stack of old pages now, bundled tight to fit in a thin leather ledger. ‘These are more of the pages and I need you to deliver them to the Princess.’
‘What are you playing at Scholar? The Princess will need to be nameless on the road, and you would have her hold the documents of a heretic?’
‘I know, I know. It is however of utmost importance the Princess works through these pages. She has some experience with them and she alone can solve them.’
‘I am not convinced that this is the right thing to do Scholar.’
‘Did you know that Shala's mother, the Lady Salstasha, was once burned by dragonfire? Of course you do! I never caught Agathir’s drift when he spoke of having a kindred soul in ancient flame. I thought he was invoking one of his demonic relations. But then the King's note came along, writing something very similar to the cryptic messages Agathir so loved. The King on his deathbed, of all the things, spoke of a dragon. And it hit me! A kindred soul in ancient flame was another person stung by dragon flames!’
‘The dragons and their worshippers have a bond because the worshippers themselves have been burned,’ supplied Metrus.
‘Yes!’ said Naceus.
‘And Agathir himself was burned once by dragon flame?’ suggested Metrus.
‘Exactly my friend. So I was toying with the idea that Salstasha herself was apt to solve the pages back when she was still alive. But she had no outright magical blood even when she did show interest in the pages. But what of Shala, her daughter, maybe still carrying the sting of dragon flames in her blood as her mother did?’
Metrus chuckled in disbelief. ‘Uncanny. But plausible. How was the King speaking to dragons then?’
‘One foot in life and the other in death. Lord Anka was one of the most powerful dreamers of his age. On his deathbed the King’s spirit was ready to leave this world, and strayed upon a dream where the dragon could make something plain to him. ’
‘But the King made clear to no one what the dragon shared with him,’ said Metrus.
‘It is a message whispered that I pay most heed to, Druid. Because it meant the King couldn't divulge secrets to just any fool.’
‘As far as I know he did not even approach his own daughter,’ countered Metrus.
‘I appreciate that you want to protect the Princess from the pages. I had tried to do so for many years. But there is no denying that this burden will come her way. There is something I have to show you.’
With his
gaze downwards Naceus nodded thoughtfully and then pulled a hairnet of great splendour from one of his pockets. ‘One of Shala’s maids recovered this from her room. Quite precious even without the stones. I heard deBella telling me that the Lady Shala wore this to her father's funeral, when Swarztial forbade me to attend.’
He held it upright and let it dangle in its natural state. ‘Look closely Metrus, the net is so configured that the gemstones hang exactly as an image of the stars and moons that forms the Sign of Toreg. And do you know what has me haunted? That last sentence I quoted you earlier: under the Sign of Toreg, shall it be conquered. It's her Metrus, she is the one meant to carry the burden of these pages.
‘She is a special child. We all know it. All signs point to someone like her blossoming at Nem Nemuris for the benefit of us all. Once only an otherworldly power could stop Nimroth and only the Dream of Embers will do so now. But I truly do not want her to die. That’s why I want to use the King instead! And that's why we must know what Agathir knew!’
Looking at the hairpiece, Metrus asked, ‘Agathir was a prophet?’
‘He was said to consult with demons and farseers of power. But the line of Salstasha is one of some scholarly descent as well, and the hairnet an heirloom that has always passed to the next firstborn daughter. For all we know Agathir might’ve been making an educated guess as to who’d be best equipped for his pages. But considering that many years after the existence of Agathir it turned out to be none other than the Highlady Salstasha herself that was burned by dragonfire…’ Naceus let the thought trail.
‘So all in all I have my reasons Metrus. If there is any chance the Princess can use the pages to alert Allandiel then we must try. When I said that the might of Crimson City may come into play it is because I fear it will become our last resort versus an overwhelming foe. They won't rally to just anything, not even the word of a Princess, but maybe she can somehow show it to Rammas, and solve the encodings, maybe then...’
Metrus sighed. ‘Very well. How would she solve it better than you?’
‘Because Agathir left crucial information at places where I will never climb. The Princess' exile however might see her visit such locations. Having a Wolf at her side like Bhask will help of course.’
‘When do you need these to reach the Princess?’
Naceus laughed. ‘My friend if I could have my way I would have her receive them right away. The sooner you can fly the better. Although on second thought, give her some time. Let her first make some decisions on her immediate future. I trust your judgement to hand it to her when the time is right,’ said Naceus.
‘Alright then Scholar, I will deliver them, but you must understand that I'm already abusing the favour of the Grove by joining this plight.’
‘We are all compromising our positions, you above all I know. The responsibility of the Grove does not come lightly and I would rather not involve you, save that without you our quest has already failed.’
‘One more thing Naceus: what about this unidentified member of Evrelyn? The one responsible for the marking?’
Naceus shrugged. ‘I'm stumped. And since we will be on the road soon, we must leave it as a problem for another day.’
Metrus did not look particularly pleased with the idea. ‘Very well, I must go back now anyhow. The Wolves will be waiting for me. I will see you again soon Scholar, best of luck, and try to repay the faith these men have placed in you,’ said Metrus.
‘I will,’ said Naceus.
The Druid departed and Naceus was left in the company of the guard, still talking excitedly amongst themselves. He was sincerely glad that they did not know what he knew. He picked up his pipe, struggling to get the embers going again and waited for any other questions that might be thrown at him by his newly formed company.
Dream of Embers Book 1 Page 24