by Aldus Baker
Hidden Ability
First novel in the Crown Saga
by Aldus Baker
Author Website: aldusbaker.com
Copyright 2014 © Aldus Baker
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For my wife and children.
Thank you for your love, understanding, support and being at the center of all good things.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
About the Author
Prologue
This is a strange exile. Krenis Enmar’s orders are to follow undetected, keep the party ahead from harm, and find a way into the service of the Lord Hallis Yen. Then stay for years until the party decides to return to Lavembra or his own death, whichever comes first. As usual, I have to go, but it’s fine if I never come back.
He has been riding on the far side of ridge lines, circling around hills, meandering through bogs and going wherever the group he follows isn’t. When Krenis is not taking the long way around he is unobtrusively observing his charges from whatever hidden vantage point he can locate. At the moment, he lies prone peering over the edge of a hilltop. On the road below him are two young riders, lightly armored lancers in the Black and Green of House Mar. They feed on a steady diet of dust kicked up by the carriage and horses in front of them. Better you than me.
Krenis knows the carriage has three occupants, a soldier called Lern, a wet nurse and a two month old babe. The driver sits on his high seat and gives his attention to his team and the road ahead. Next to the driver sits a bowman, his short bow unstrung in his lap and a quiver strapped to the side of his seat. The archer probably has the best eyes among them and Krenis makes a point to stay out of his line of sight.
Beyond the carriage are four more lancers also in Mar’s Black and Green. Captain Erida, leader of the group rides in front on the right. His second, Lieutenant Burk, rides beside him on the left. Even if Krenis did not know the officers, he would know they are veterans by the way they sit a saddle and keep a careful watch. Behind Erida and Burk ride the last two men. They look more experienced than the two dust eaters bringing up the rear. The six lancers could defeat the average band of highwaymen without breaking a sweat. And they still have Lern and the bowman for support. So what do they need me for?
Krenis slips down behind the crest of the hill. He feels he has done enough wilderness evasion and surveillance in the last week to hone his dulled skills. After ten years serving the king almost exclusively within the capital it felt good to be far beyond Lavembra’s walls. It was time to practice a skill he never went long without using. Sneaking about the countryside was all well and good, but Krenis wanted to do some real scouting now.
He left his horse grazing in a draw that opened out at the foot of the hill. Boy was still there. The horse is so well trained that Krenis only has to let the end of the reins fall to the ground and his mount knows to stay in the immediate area. He takes up Boy’s reins and leads him to a nearby stream to drink. Then Krenis climbs into the saddle.
He sits up straight, relaxes as best he can while on horseback, closes his eyes and begins to breathe deeply and slowly. Krenis places his attention on the troop he follows. He forms as complete a mental image of the lancers and the carriage as he can. He pictures the dust from the road and the position of each lancer. Listening, he hears the sounds of the horses’ hooves on the road and the creek and groan of the carriage suspension as it negotiates the rough unpaved ground. He imagines the sunlight and the shadows, the heat of the road and the voices of the riders conversing. Krenis looks around as though standing among the travelers on the road. Ahead is a lightly forested area through which they will soon pass. With a shift of his attention, Krenis moves down the road to the spot where the company will be fully surrounded by woodlands.
Again he looks and listens. He sees sunlight dimmed by the crowns of trees and shadowed foliage lining the roadside. There are birds singing, animal sounds of movement, the whinny of a horse, a man’s muttered curse, and the stretch of a crossbow string being drawn back to the catch. Krenis looks closer at the shadows and sees each man. This is what they need me for.
In a heartbeat he opens his eyes back atop his mount. With a yell, Krenis digs in his heals and the stallion bolts forward. The only way to reach the ambush before the party on the road does is to use the road. He tries to puzzle out how to ride right past the party and remain unseen. Protecting someone without them knowing is an impossible order, but the king does it every day which probably makes him believe Krenis can too. When he rounds the hill and makes his way toward the road he finds there is no reason to worry about riding past the party, because they are coming back down the road and will soon be riding past him instead.
Fortunately, the company on the road has not noticed him. Their attention is given fully to the ten mounted men attempting to ride them down from behind, the same men Krenis saw hiding in the woods during his vision. As the company moves into relatively open ground, Captain Erida calls out an order and the six lancers wheel about to form a line while the carriage continues on. It has been some time since Krenis saw a cavalry charge. The attackers have no lances and he doubts things will go well for them. But, he cannot stay to watch. There is only one reason the men would have emerged from the woods. Their job is to force the lancers and carriage to retreat in order to drive them toward the real ambush.
Krenis has already ranged across much of the countryside surrounding the roadway. He believes he knows where the real ambush is. The road turns through a shallow cut only a short distance back. The carriage would have difficulty maneuvering and the narrow way would be easy to block. There had been no problem on the way here, but men could have moved into place once the party passed. An enemy scout could have been watching for the carriage to pass by. Krenis is not happy with himself for missing the enemy scout, but he hopes this means the scout has not seen him either.
Taking the road would only trap him with the carriage now. Krenis turns his mount and spurs Boy back into the hills that run parallel to the road. The lancers should have no trouble killing or driving off the riders from the woods. But Krenis will have to delay the true ambush until the lancers finish and arrive to save the carriage.
The foliage varies from brush and grass to small stands of evergreen and scrub oak. The ground is uneven and broken in places. He rides slower and with more care. Once he nears an overlook, Krenis dismounts and steps to the edge of a small ridge. From this high vantage point he studies the situation below.
Things are going poorly. The driver’s right arm is wounded and he struggles to back the horses and carriage away from a barricade of logs and stones strewn across the roadbed. The bowman is using the horses and carriage to shield himself, but his slow rate of fire is no match for the archers shooting at him. As Krenis watches, both the bowman and one of the horses are hit.
From a pouch strung on his belt, he removes a lead ball about the size of his thumb. Peop
le have questioned his choice of weapons in the past. But he finds the sling works well. He loads the lead ball and flings it with blinding speed in less time than an expert archer would need to fire an arrow. The ball hits an enemy archer standing on the far hillside with enough force to penetrate his leather jerkin and put him down. Krenis releases his second and third shots which take out the other two archers. Only the attackers advancing toward the carriage remain. With the screams of the injured horse and curses of the wounded driver, the four assailants never heard the lead sling balls break the bones of their friends.
The carriage door swings open and a very large angry man wielding a broadsword leaps out. The advancing men hesitate. Perhaps they expect help from the incapacitated archers, but as Lern loudly questions their parentage, their honor and their leisure time activities with various farm animals all hesitation vanishes. Krenis smiles as he abandons the overlook and returns to his horse. The attackers have already lost and they don’t even know it. Lern is an expert at enraging his adversaries and carving them up with his broadsword while they are too angry to think. In addition, the lancers are bound to be coming now that they have undoubtedly dispatched the riders.
It takes Krenis until after dark to work his way back to a concealed position where he can check on the party again. He has traveled a twisted and confusing route to keep the men Captain Erida sent to search around the ambush site from picking up his trail. They may not have even reached the overlook, but Krenis has managed to obey orders and remain unseen. He is not going to waste that success by being careless once he has the time to be careful.
When daylight returns Krenis does not see the archer. The driver now rides sitting next to one of the junior lancers who drives the carriage. Lern looks no worse for wear and all the other members of the group appear uninjured. They have seven new horses on a lead line tied to the back of the carriage, plus an eighth that has replaced the wounded team horse. They must have been forced to put it down after yesterday’s ambush. Perhaps the group had fresh meat last night. It would be a shame to waste the wounded animal by leaving it all for the scavengers. In a hand full of days the journey will end. Krenis will present himself to Lord Yen and then, maybe, he too can get a good meal.
Chapter I
Lord Hallis Yen is dying. His broken body was carried to the manor house. The pain has been deadened with herbs, but the pain is great. Perspiration forms sheens over the Lord’s pale features. He demonstrates an implacable resistance to both his injuries and the anesthetizing effect of the herbs as he argues with his wife.
“Lady, listen to me!” demands Lord Yen in a hoarse rasp.
Lady Shara Yen stands next to her husband’s pallet. Her back is to him. She fears to turn and look at his face. Her will alone holds her together. A will made stronger by years of marriage to a strong man. The lady does not want to break down. If she looks at him now, she will be undone by despair.
Shara’s thoughts are in turmoil. The bedrock of her life is crumbling. She recoils from the idea. He can’t be dying, not Hallis Yen. It’s unthinkable. Hallis has been a bulwark that never failed to shelter her and the children. His strength, insight, determination and love built the life Shara willingly shares. What anchor will steady House Yen now when the winds of fortune blow cruel?
“Lord, I hear you,” says Shara. Her voice sounds as broken as her thoughts. Pushing away the fear, she turns to face her husband. She will face this for his sake, and for the children. “At a time like this, when the world is crashing down around your house, you wish to put upon a boy, a boy who has been in every way our son save name alone, a burden of heritage beyond his years to handle. I believe, Hallis my beloved, that your oath overcomes your reason.”
“My oath, dearest Shara, is the reason I must tell him. He was entrusted to us, you as surely as I. But, my sheltering hand will too soon be withdrawn.” Hallis does not turn his head, but his eyes search Lady Shara’s face for the effect of his words. “Will you stand in my stead? Will Darla? As our ability to protect him wanes, so must his understanding wax if he is to protect himself.”
“Husband, Love, how will he take this? If I call him to you he will see the only father he has ever known dying. And when you tell him, it will take from him far more than his father. You will strip him of all family. He is in shock. He holds himself tight against your loss. His mettle is untested. Will your words be one hammer blow too many?”
“How I wish to stay with you sweet Shara. You are right to say it is too soon. Too soon for me to leave you and too soon to reveal the truth of Jalan’s family. When I am gone, there will be those who see it as an opportunity. Someone will move against Jalan. If you cannot agree to tell him, then agree to teach him. He must be taught everything.”
Lady Shara understands. She has argued against intense training in arms for a child. Now, Jalan will have to master those skills as best and as quickly as he can. He is only eight and his childhood is over, one more thing that passes with her husband.
“I cannot send him to the Society.”
“No, that you cannot.”
“I... I will teach him what I know. But, it’s been a long time.”
“It is all we... It’s all you can do. It will be enough.”
Enough? Is there ever enough? Enough strength? Enough love? Enough time? Shara doesn’t know.
“I will tell him Hallis. I will tell him when he turns 15. Not before. Let him struggle and learn what he must before he has to know why.”
“Very well my love. Do as you deem best. That is the way it must be. I’ll not be here. You have made your decision. Let it stand as the decision of House Yen. But, a man needs a reason to work hard. What will you tell him when he asks why his training is so difficult?”
Shara looks deeply into her husband’s eyes and says, “I will tell him to put his love for his father into every task. He would never dream of disappointing you.”
The choice is made. Now Lady Shara focuses on the time they have left together. By her actions, she will assure Lord Yen that all he has worked to build will not pass away through any fault of hers. They will waste no more moments arguing.
“I will bring in the children,” says Lady Shara.
Δ
Four children enter the parlor, Lord Yen’s makeshift sickroom. His oldest daughters, Guri and Aena, are missing. They and their husbands have been summoned. Expressions are subdued and voices are muted until one by one the children are allowed to approach their father. Lord Hallis speaks a few words to each. He is unable to rise or hug them. A squeeze of his left hand is all the physical comfort he can offer.
The children cry as they speak to Lord Hallis. They tell him of their prayers for healing, their love for him and how they will miss him. Darla, the oldest of the four, thanks him for always being there when they needed him.
Only Jalan, the youngest, asks why he has to die. Lord Hallis wishes he knew that answer. But, he tells the boy everything passes away eventually, old things leave to make room for the new just as spring follows winter. He promises the children that he will always love them and keep an eye on them. The youngest three, Vee, Tomac and Jalan, he admonishes to do what their heart tells them is right and to listen well to their mother and their older sister, Lady Darla. When Hallis names her “Lady”, Darla and her mother exchange a glance full of unspoken words that must wait till later.
The brief visit is over. Lord Hallis has used all his strength in first reasoning with Lady Shara and then in reassuring his children. He falls into an uneasy sleep after the children leave. Later he wakes and sees an oil lamp burning on a small decorative table of carved wood and his love and wife, Lady Shara, sitting beside the table next to his pallet.
“My love...”, says Lord Hallis in a whispered exhalation.
Lady Shara picks up a water cup and holds her husband’s head as she tilts the cup. Once Hallis manages a tiny swallow, he tries again.
“My love, what is the hour?”
“Sometime near mid
dle night.”
“You should be sleeping.”
“No. I cannot sleep without you beside me. Better for me to stay here in case you need anything. And...”
Lord Yen waits for his wife to continue.
“You will leave me soon enough. I choose to spend whatever time there is with you.”
Chapter II
“I don’t think I can,” says Darla. She is standing just within the door of the parlor where her late father spent his last days. The pallet has been removed and the room restored to its usual arrangement of comfortable chairs set in a semicircle before the hearth. Lady Shara sits in a chair across the room looking into the cold hearth and listening to her daughter’s words.
Shara turns toward Darla and says, “When was the last time you asked your father for help with the accounts?”
“I discussed them with him just last month.”
“Don’t you, I mean didn’t you meet with him monthly and show him the current account standings? Is that all it was, your monthly review with him?”
“Well, yes, but he sometimes asked questions,” says Darla.
“Questions you could not answer? Questions that he had to personally resolve?”
“No, I always knew the answers. And, I followed up on any issues. Although, we didn’t have many.”
Lady Shara stands and moves toward her daughter before speaking again. She looks carefully at Darla’s face and asks in a soft voice that conveys a need to understand, “Tell me again why you can’t do this?”
“That was just the accounts,” says Darla, dismissing the bookkeeping with a wave of her hand. “I’ve been doing those for years. This is so much more. I would have to meet with the overseers. Judge disputes brought forward by the Tenant’s Council. Negotiate and approve trading agreements.”
“Oh. Yes, the overseers,” says Shara in agreement. “Brighton can be such a problem, especially with the livestock difficulties on the northern holdings.”