Fairy Tales Revisited on Silvery Earth

by Barbara G. Tarn

  "You go to war, you could be killed," Rithvik replied. "Like the dwarf said, I haven't been on a battlefield yet and the only honor I could gather is in tournaments like this one."

  "You noblemen have weird habits." Kerrien shook his head, sitting on a bench at the end of the long table.

  "Sir Rithvik!" Lord Tybalt called, signaling him to come and sit closer to him and his family.

  "Come with me," Rithvik whispered, patting Kerrien's shoulder.

  "You go ahead, I'm uncomfortable in castles."

  "Kerrien!" Rithvik protested in a low voice. "Come on, we're a team!"

  "Not right now, we're not. Go sit with the lord, that's where you belong."

  Rithvik glared at him, but obeyed. Kerrien was hoping he'd find a new home in the castle, probably. I'm not going to move in with strangers – especially not after beating the young lord at the quintain!

  The banquet reminded him of his father's feasts, although there was no roasted boar. Forests were quickly vanishing as they headed for the Ondan, leaving the plains quite destitute in Rithvik's eyes. Yes, there were meadows and orchards, but he preferred trees that hosted all kinds of animals. Venison tasted better than chicken or cow.

  He was given a room at the castle for the night, but when he saw Kerrien head to the stables, he just followed him.

  "I thought you'd enjoy a real bed and the company of your peers," Kerrien grumbled as they lay down on the hay in a corner of the stables.

  "No, I don't enjoy their company," Rithvik replied. "I had fun at their tournament, but this doesn't mean I want to stay here."

  Kerrien sighed. "Fine. We'll get back on the road tomorrow morning."

  "How is your hometown? Like this castle?"

  "Slightly bigger. There's the castle, but there's also other buildings inside the walls. And I got away from it."

  "Yes, I understand small towns or castles are not for you. You like to get lost in big towns."

  "I don't get lost. Ever."

  Rithvik rolled his eyes. "Lost in the sense that you mingle with a lot of people," he said. "You like crowds."

  "You can be alone in crowds if you want to." Kerrien shrugged. "And it's easier to hide in populated places."

  "Hide from what?" Rithvik asked, puzzled.

  "Friends, enemies, yourself..." Kerrien sighed. "Good night, Rithvik."

  Rithvik stared at the wooden ceiling of the stables without seeing it for a long time as the day replayed in his mind. The quintain. The banquet. Kerrien's grumpiness.

  He rolled on his side to look at Kerrien's shadow to his left.

  "Kerrien, are you awake?" he asked.

  "Of course," Kerrien snapped. "You're the dormouse."

  Rithvik chuckled. "You know I earned five gold coins at the tournament?" he said. "That was the prize for winning the quintain."

  Rithvik felt Kerrien's warmth move closer as the mercenary rolled over to face him in the dark stable.

  "Really? Then you pay for the next meal."

  "Done deal!"

  Rithvik imagined Kerrien's smile and grinned. He lay on his back and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

  ***

  Raddanmor was very large. It had wooden walls with weak gates and had been built around three main roads. The walls were not really defensive, but since it was in the middle of the plain, it was hard to take it by surprise.

  "It's a trading town, nobody would dream of plundering it," Kerrien explained as they approached one of the gates. "Their textile and dyes are exported throughout the plains and to the kingdoms even beyond the River Ondan. The city is famous for its city parks and gardens as well."

  "And they are a city-state?" Rithvik asked.

  "Yes, they have several elected officials, but lots of scandals. The corruption level is average and as you can see the town is expanding beyond its walls."

  Rithvik saw that at irregular intervals – probably near the weak gates – buildings were sprawling. Stone and timber, like the ones inside.

  "Where do they get all the wood from?" Rithvik wondered.

  Kerrien scoffed. "I'm sure that in your father's time there were a lot more forests around here. They've been cut down to make room for fields and meadows. That's another difference between this side of the Ondan and the other. Here they're becoming gatherers, we're still mostly hunters."

  "Oh, I see!" Rithvik brightened. "Then yes, I guess you're more similar to what I'm used to! We were also great hunters and we'd never cut trees, unless for our hearths in winter! Where would the deer and boars go? What would we eat?"

  "Exactly." Kerrien grinned. "You can have your roasted boar with baked potatoes when we get to Salamar. They still have it over there, it's on the menu at the mercenaries' tavern."

  Rithvik was speechless for a moment. Kerrien remembered what he'd asked to eat when he'd just woken up? Maybe the mercenary was getting used to him, maybe even growing fond of him...

  "Thank you," he said as they reached the gate and the bored guards who just waved them through.

  The nearest tavern with stables was halfway across town. The Wishing Lamb was large and its rooms half vacant. They found a medium-sized room available with two cots – although Rithvik would have preferred a double bed, but he was tired from days in the saddle or sleeping in barns or on the bare ground, so he didn't complain.

  Since sunset was fast approaching, Kerrien and Rithvik opted for a good night of sleep before going to the university. They dropped their travel bags in the room and went back to the almost totally filled main room to order something to eat.

  "Aren't the drinks a little overpriced?" Rithvik asked as they sat in the common room, checking what was available for dinner.

  "And of poor quality," Kerrien answered. "But the food is decent and low-priced."

  As they waited for their meal, Rithvik looked around. There were a few shady characters and almost none of the patrons was openly armed. Only half of the dark corners were occupied and everyone seemed to avoid the scar-covered bard that was playing good music on his lute.

  "Don't start dancing in the middle of the room," Kerrien warned playfully as the maid brought them the food.

  "I'm too tired to dance," Rithvik answered with a sigh. "Not to mention the sore muscles from the saddle..."

  His inner legs and buttocks had taken the greatest amount of punishment, but his lower back, calves, knees and hips had also felt the strain. He wished he could lie down and have someone massage him to sleep.

  "Is it possible to hire someone for a massage?" he asked, hopeful.

  "Everything is possible, if you can pay," Kerrien replied. "But it's a luxury. Listen, if tomorrow you're still sore, we'll go to the public baths and also request a massage. Tonight just try to get some sleep on that mattress, all right?"

  Rithvik nodded with a sigh. He could see Kerrien's point. He'd have to take out some coins from the hem of his spare tunic to pay for his stay in Raddanmor already...

  One hour later he was fast asleep.

  ***

  The next morning, after breakfast, Kerrien asked a muscular, bored man who was leaning against the wall just outside of the Wishing Lamb which way the university was. Rithvik listened to the directions but wouldn't have been able to follow them. Kerrien thanked the man and headed the pointed way.

  "Did you understand where it is?" Rithvik asked, a little worried.

  "Yes, I know this town, I've just never been to the university," Kerrien answered.

  "Oh, so you knew what he was talking about." Rithvik felt relieved.

  "Are you sore today?" Kerrien asked him. "The public baths are on the other side of town, so... what do you want to do first?"

  Rithvik pondered as they reached a square. "We didn't bring spare clothes," he said as a very skinny, indecisive old man who was rambling incoherently passed by them. "Maybe we could go this afternoon? So if today is as hot as it looks it's going to be, we can cool down in the pools, shave and have a massage?"

  "Sounds like an
excellent plan." Kerrien grinned as a redheaded, confused young woman rushed by them, chasing a small child. "The university is that way."

  Rithvik followed him, happy to have said the right thing. He wasn't sure he'd gotten the hang of Kerrien's life yet, but he was obviously making progress. He thought he'd love to be an adventurer and a mercenary for the rest of his life – as long as he could stay with Kerrien, of course.

  I'd be lost without my beautiful mentor, he thought.

  He'd understood by now that the tough exterior was just a mask, a protection and defense for a man who had no place to call home. Even though he hadn't named it, Kerrien was kind to his horse. And he seemed to like stray cats.

  "How come?" Rithvik asked after a proud tabby left after purring under Kerrien's hand for a moment, making the prince wish he was that cat.

  "I'm a stray cat myself," Kerrien answered, rising to resume walking. "Not a cat person, my prince?"

  "My mother had a small company dog," Rithvik answered, thoughtful. "My father had hunting hounds. There weren't many cats at Ker Eziel."

  He pondered the affinity between Kerrien and stray cats. Maybe he'd become one too. Although he felt more like a puppy dog, wanting one master to feed him and protect him and... I'm not a dog, I'm a man! And so is Kerrien! I should stop likening us to animals!

  The university of Raddanmor looked enormous to him. It was designed in a style that had plenty of square buildings with porticoes. A real campus around a main courtyard and a small temple.

  "Overall the school has an excellent reputation, which may not entirely be deserved," Kerrien said as they looked for the History department. "They have some kind of magic classes as well, and recently, a member of the scrying club was expelled for inappropriate scrying."

  "So maybe we could just ask them to check their crystal balls," Rithvik commented.

  "They see the future, not the past," Kerrien reminded him.

  The head of the History department was a middle-aged man with a very short, broad build and large ears. Kerrien asked him about the history of the Moren Empire and the guy started a dissertation on the book he'd written about the Moren Emperors.

  "It's all in here, young man," he said, showing off a big, leather-bound manuscript. "You should really read it."

  "I can't read," Kerrien snapped.

  I can, if the alphabet hasn't changed, Rithvik thought. Maybe he could teach something to Kerrien in return for the life lessons.

  The professor shook his head, disgusted, but grinned at the sight of Kerrien's silver.

  "So what can you tell us of Diamond II?" Rithvik asked, frowning at the sight of money changing hands. "When did he live?" He was glad Kerrien hadn't mentioned Ker Eziel at all. Besides, they were probably too far from his father's castle by now for the scholar to know anything about it.

  "Diamond II?" The man scratched his head and pondered. He did not-so-quick calculations, helping himself with his fingers. "He reigned from 193 to 226 of the Moren Empire that fell in 275... which was a hundred and twenty-five years ago."

  "So that's about two hundred years ago," Kerrien said while Rithvik was still struggling with the numbers. "Thank you, sir. You've been very useful."

  "You can't read, but you're good with math," the scholar complimented him.

  "One needs math to survive," Kerrien replied. "I'm a mercenary and a freelance, of course I know how to count."

  Which made sense. Except maths was never Rithvik's strong point. He sighed as they got out of the university buildings.

  "I didn't know you couldn't read," he told Kerrien. "I was wondering why you asked to speak with teachers instead of heading for the library."

  "Nobody is perfect," Kerrien shrugged.

  Rithvik fished for silver coins.

  "How much did you give him? I must refund you..."

  "Don't worry, Rithvik, it's on me." Kerrien waved the offer away. "I am curious about your story and since I can't read, I'm willing to pay to hear more about the past."

  "I can teach you to read if you want, but I'm much slower than you at counting..."

  "And who knows what happened to your mind during your two centuries' sleep," Kerrien commented.

  "I've had dreams... I lost sense of time, I guess..." he muttered.

  Then the number hit him. Two centuries! How did they fly by so fast?

  "And you were so eager to leave your duties, you're not even shocked by what you call a brand new world," Kerrien commented. "I'd be scared shitless if it happened to me."

  "Well, you'd find a strong warrior to teach you everything like I've done," Rithvik said with a shaky voice and a trembling smile.

  The numbers were really sinking in now. Not that he wanted to go back, but still... Everyone he'd known was long dead. Whatever he had known was long gone.

  He felt butterflies in his belly and stopped. He wanted to throw up his breakfast.

  "Are you all right?" Kerrien asked, worried. "You're very pale."

  "I'm fine," he whispered. "Just thirsty."

  The sun was up and hitting him in full. Kerrien dragged him to a stall of cold drinks and forced him to sit down before heading for the counter. Rithvik felt dizzy now.

  Kerrien sat next to him and helped him to drink a blue potion with multicolored bubbles served in a mug. It smelled frightening, but tasted excellent.

  "It's a minor local legend," Kerrien said. "It's the perfect cure for heat stroke. If that's what you had."

  Rithvik was feeling better already. He noticed the stall was in front of a shop specializing in protective magic items, that also provided magical constructs, spell wands and scrolls.

  "Do you want to go inside?" Kerrien suggested.

  Rithvik nodded, feeling his strength coming back. The shop interior was sparsely decorated and quiet. Occupants included a few adventurers, an entertainer and a paladin. The shopkeeper was female and slightly overweight. She had ruddy skin, short strawberry-blond hair and laugh lines.

  She sneezed as they reached the counter.

  "Good morning, gentlemen. I'm Elanar, how can I help you?"

  "We're looking for protective charms," Kerrien answered while Rithvik looked around. The cramped shop looked almost like the one attached to the school of magic of Ker Eziel with its scrolls, wands and magic objects around.

  Elanar directed them to the charms display. Rithvik watched and touched a few, until he found a white pine charm carved with words and a fire within a pentacle on the front and back. He felt power in the wood and the carvings and decided that was the one for him.

  Kerrien scoffed at his choice. "Fire and pentacle... I thought you had enough of summoning demons," he said while Elanar gave them leather thongs to hang their purchases around their necks.

  "What did you get?" Rithvik asked, ignoring the comment.

  Kerrien showed him a very small rowan charm with a window and a pair of gauntlets painted on the front "because I'm a mercenary" and a paw print and a ring carved on the back "because I'm a hunter" as Kerrien explained.

  "Nice." Rithvik had completely recovered and his stomach grumbled. "Should we eat first or go to the baths?"

  "Let's get our spare clothes at the inn, and we'll go from there," Kerrien answered as they left Elanar's shop.

  ***

  They spent three nights in Raddanmor, then saddled their horses and went on the road again. Rithvik had enjoyed the luxury of the public baths and had found a stall that served excellent food close to the inn, but Kerrien said they needed to get moving again. There was no job in town for them, and their money was spent quicker with the stable and inn and food and other city expenses.

  "So were you a nomad from the beginning, or did you become one?" Rithvik asked as the walls of Raddanmor vanished behind them.

  "I became one when I left. That's the mercenary life, Rithvik. Moving around looking for work or exploring new lands... Being a hunter, I'm also a good tracker, hence the bounty and treasure hunts."

  "So you became an adventurer."r />
  "Yes, and I like it."

  "I thought I'd like it too, but..." Rithvik sighed. "I enjoyed town life more," he admitted sheepishly.

  Kerrien smiled. "I can't blame you. You had quite a castle in your time... but if you want to stop somewhere, you need to find a steady job and then a house and then... it's not that easy. I've been trying to settle for some time now."

  Rithvik nodded, thoughtful. Might have something to do with that Braedick. He'd lost interest in the topic, though. As long as Kerrien allowed him to follow him, he wasn't going to worry about supposed rivals.

  He touched the charm on his chest, wondering if it would help, one way or another. He was less optimistic now that he had realized how long he'd slept, and he felt shy and even slightly grumpy at the thought of making new friends. He only wanted to curl up against Kerrien and listen to his war stories – or whatever he'd been doing so far.

  The rest of the day was quiet and uneventful. Rithvik felt more like crying than singing. As they camped under the stars that night, Kerrien finally broke the silence.

  "Are you all right, Rithvik?" Kerrien asked, roasting the hare he'd killed a couple of hours earlier. "You've been so quiet all day..."

  "I've been thinking, remembering," Rithvik said.

  "Missing your past? Did you have friends?"

  "I was the prince heir, I wasn't supposed to befriend anyone," Rithvik said, staring at his feet. "Everyone was below me, except my father..."

  "No wonder you felt lonely," Kerrien commented, shaking his head.

  "Do you have friends? Family?" Rithvik asked. He was eager to hear how a common man lived, since that was his new life. What was it like for someone who wasn't isolated by his name and title?

  "Yeah, I have a family, but I haven't seen them in years. I was fifteen or so when I left Caer Nittak and haven't heard from them since," Kerrien answered flatly.

  "What happened, why did you leave?" Rithvik frowned with worry. "Did you not get along with them or...?"

  "We got along just fine." Kerrien shrugged. "Well, as fine as a big family in a small house can go. My father was in the retinue of the town lord, Elan Albright. Not noble enough to live at the castle, but wealthy enough to have weapons and armor for him and his sons."