“Thank you, Tumas. It was nice to meet you,” Jonas said sincerely.
“And you woodsmen. Enjoy your time in Finarth,” Tumas said with a smile as he shut the heavy door.
Jonas and Fil looked at each and began smiling until their faces were beaming walls of teeth. They began running around the room, exploring their quarters and investigating the magnificence of the décor. All the furniture was polished wood graced with hand carvings, and everywhere they looked they saw glittering items, like a silver mirror, a set of bronze candle holders flanking the fireplace, and even a set of crossed swords behind a giant silver shield with the Finarthian symbol cast in the middle.
Jonas ran into the bathing quarters first where he saw a huge depression built of the same shiny stone that covered the floor. It was filled with steaming water perfumed with the fragrance of rose petals. There was a big table and drawers next to a magnificent full size mirror. The mirror’s frame was built from huge pieces of dark wood. Detailed carvings of vines wrapped around the piece and at closer inspection Jonas could even make out clusters of grapes expertly depicted within the wood.
“Fil, look at this!” Jonas yelled, turning his attention to the bath. He sat on the edge and tested the water. It was warm and inviting, making Jonas realize how dirty and smelly he was. He quickly took off his clothes and leaped into the water, splashing some over the edge.
Fil ran in, his eyes bulging even more. “Is that hot water?” Fil asked incredulously, seeing the steam rise from the gently sloshing water.
“It is,” Jonas said with pure joy.
“How did they get it all in here?”
“I don’t know. Look at that hole in the ceiling, maybe the water comes from there.”
Fil followed Jonas’s gaze up to a round hole about the size of a fist. It was positioned directly over the basin.
“I don’t know, but this feels amazing,” continued Jonas, dunking his head in the water.
Fil picked up a sticky bar from the side of the tub and smelled it. The fragrance of rosemary filled his nose.
“Is that soap?” asked Jonas.
“I think so. Here, give it a try.”
Fil threw the bar at Jonas who caught it out of the air. He used it on his wet skin and it began to lather immediately. “It must be. It smells great and it’s lathering like soap. It sure smells better than the soap we used at Manson.”
“These quarters are amazing,” Fil exclaimed, his eyes continuing to inspect the wondrous place.
“The entire city is amazing. I never imagined there could be so many people in one spot or so many buildings, huge buildings,” Jonas said, washing his hair with the soap.
“Hurry up, I want to get in.”
They both got cleaned up and put on the clothes the servants brought them. They were simple breeches and tunics with a leather belt, but the cloth was a finer weave and not thick and itchy like the wool clothes they wore. It felt so soft on their newly scrubbed skin. They had to continue to wear their leather hunting boots, though, so they scrubbed them clean with one of the towels to make them look decent. They were pretty worn, but they looked presentable once all the dirt and grime was scrubbed from them.
It wasn’t long before the door opened and Landon stepped in, no longer limping. Jonas and Fil were sitting in comfortable leather chairs eating a platter of smoked meats, cheeses, and breads that a servant had brought in.
“Ahh, my friends, I can see that you found the bath and food,” Landon said, smiling, as he went to the table to grab a cut of meat.
“Yes, sir. I hope that was okay,” Jonas said.
“Of course, please, enjoy your surroundings.” Landon stood up, rolling his pant leg up to expose his thigh. “Look at this,” he said, amazement on his face. “Magic is sure incredible. I’ve never been healed by a priest before. He put his hands on my leg and chanted. First, a blue light appeared around his hands. I could feel a warm energy that spread from his hands to my wound and my whole leg. I saw the wound slowly close and the skin mend over it. The pain was gone and only a slight tingling remained. There’s just a little scar now.”
Sure enough, the boys saw that his leg had totally healed, the only evidence of his wound being a faint pink scar about as long as a hand.
“I would have liked to have seen that,” Jonas said, examining the scar in wonder. Landon unrolled his pant leg and sat down with the boys.
“Sir, why didn’t you have Allindrian heal you?” Fil asked.
“We had other injured men, Fil, men that needed it more than I. Her power is limited and I wanted it directed to my men. Remember boys,” Landon said, using the teacher voice the boys had come to love, “when you have power, be it in the form of money, strength, or rank, you must use it with honor if you want to earn respect. Those men saw me suffer through my pain even after I used my own resources to help their comrades. That kind of respect will go a long way.”
The boys were nodding their heads, agreeing with what Landon said.
“Sir, you must be really rich or be really good friends with the king to get a room like this. We want to thank you again for letting us travel with you. This place is incredible,” Jonas said.
“Yes, I am rich, and I am good friends with the king,” Landon laughed. “I have made a fortune trading dwarven weapons and armor from Dwarf Mount down to Finarth and Annure. They cannot produce the prized weapons here so I can command a royal sum for them. King Gavinsteal supplies only the best for his knights.”
“I see,” said Fil thoughtfully.
“I must change quickly. We have an audience with the king in a few moments,” said Landon, standing up and grabbing his bags.
“We?” asked Jonas.
“Yes. I need you to tell your story to the king. Don’t worry,” Landon continued as he saw Fil and Jonas’s apprehensive looks, “I will be there with you. Besides, King Gavensteal is a good and honorable man. I think you will like him. His two sons will be present as well as several priests to analyze your mark. Allindrian will be present as well. No need to fear,” Landon continued reassuringly.
It was not long before they heard a knock at the door. Landon opened the sturdy door revealing a man-at-arms who informed him that the king was ready to see them. The soldier escorted them through several hallways and down some stairs until they entered a large anteroom. The room was lined with suits of armor holding magnificent lances, and the walls were covered with intricate tapestries. The tapestries were made from a thick cloth the color of a ripe plum. Gold thread was woven into the fabrics forming symbols and designs of various sorts. Jonas recognized one as the symbol of Finarth, a blazing sun with a fist in the middle. He did not know the others but enjoyed the beauty of the graceful lines and intricate scroll work.
At the far end of the room was a large door covered in a detailed carving. Jonas looked at the carving carefully and it seemed to be of some great battle; men and monsters alike were fighting on a great battlefield. The detail was exquisite and Jonas could even see some of the warrior’s expressions as they fought for their lives.
Two guards stood on each side of the door, unmoving as they approached. Jonas wished he could have examined the carving further but the soldier leading them grabbed the solid metal ring on the door, opening it smoothly. For a door so large and heavy, it swung open easily.
“Follow me please,” the warrior commanded as he entered the audience chamber. They walked into a large room flanked by huge stone pillars. Stained glass windows lined the walls sending an array of color throughout the room. Intricate stone work covered every base that held up the massive columns. Huge tapestries hung from the walls and placed between each was a polished suit of plate mail, complete with spear and shield. It was beautiful, and Jonas’s eager eyes took it all in.
On the far end of the room were steps leading to a great throne made of carved wood and hammered steel. Jonas stared openly at the incredible craftsmanship. The throne was carved into the shape of a huge tree trunk reaching up m
ore than three paces, and all from one piece of wood. Shiny steel covered the arm rests and various other pieces of glittering metal were expertly placed into the carving. In some areas steel was inlaid to form beautiful designs that to Jonas looked like leafy vines. It was strong, powerful, and graceful all at the same time, a fitting spot for a king to rule such a wondrous kingdom.
At the base of the steps was a thick oak table, lined with heavy wood chairs that faced the impressive throne. Each chair was put together with hand carved wood, polished with oil and shining with splendor. Jonas had never seen furniture so beautiful. Everything was sublime and of the highest quality, but it was all very functional and not overly flamboyant.
The one thing that really caught Jonas’s eye was the massive painting behind the throne. It was easily fifteen paces wide and ten paces high, covering the entire back wall. It was an impressive painting depicting an armored warrior on a battlefield facing another warrior who wore all black plate armor. They rode huge, muscle bound horses, and carried glowing swords clashing together in combat. It looked so real that Jonas couldn’t take his eyes off it as he walked down the short hallway to the conference table.
At the front end of the table sat King Gavinsteal. He was an enormous man, built like an oak tree, his barrel chest and thick shoulders giving him a formidable look. His long hair fell to his shoulders and at the top it was pulled back and tied behind his head. His dark beard was trimmed perfectly. The king’s hair was streaked with the silver of age but to Jonas he still looked like a warrior in his prime. He wore a blue tunic embroidered in silver thread with the glittering symbol of the fist in front of a sun. His belt was thick and well worn, carrying a jeweled broad sword swinging gently as he stood to greet his guests. His tanned face was worn and looked like old leather, but his smile was welcoming.
“Ah, Landon, my friend, it is good to see you,” the king said in a booming voice. King Gavinsteal stepped around the table to shake hands with the merchant.
Jonas noticed that the others stood at their arrival. He saw two men that were obviously soldiers for they carried themselves as such, wearing swords and bright chain mail shirts under their tunics. One man was middle-aged, with long dark hair and a thick massive frame like the king’s. He wore a green tunic over his chain mail shirt that was embroidered with the same symbol. Jonas learned that this was Prince Baylin, the eldest of King Gavinsteal’s sons and first in line for the throne. He looked just like his father.
The younger warrior was Prince Nelstrom, the king’s youngest son. He was taller and thinner, but still laced with muscle. His strong shoulders and chest held up a black tunic that also had the Finarthian mark. He crossed his muscled forearms and Jonas saw the Finarthian symbol clearly on his right hand. This was the master swordsman that Cyn had mentioned. The man looked hard, like carved stone, and he did not smile, glancing at Fil and Jonas with undisguised disdain.
The other two men were high priests. They wore long robes of fine quality. Each one was made from soft fabric lined with silver thread that flowed around their bodies when they stood up in greeting. Androg was the eldest priest. He had gray hair and skin that hung loosely from his thin face. He wore a silver chain around his neck that carried the four pointed symbol of the High One. Manlin was younger, but his dark hair was still peppered heavily with gray and his weathered face showed signs of aging. What caught Jonas’s attention, however, was the silver chain he wore around his neck. It carried a blue and silver symbol that looked almost exactly like the one on his chest. This man must be a priest of Shyann.
Jonas unconsciously rubbed his chest as they approached the king nervously.
“It is good to see you, King Gavinsteal. I thank you for your hospitality, and for the healing.” Landon and the king shook hands like old friends.
“Anytime my friend,” replied the king glancing at Fil and Jonas. “So these are the two reasons for this meeting? Welcome to Finarth, I am King Uthrayne Gavinsteal.”
Fil and Jonas both bowed awkwardly, not sure what else to do.
“It is a great pleasure to meet you. My name is Jonas Kanrene,” Jonas said, his voice breaking slightly.
“My name is Fil Tanrey and I thank you for your hospitality, King Gavinsteal.” Smiling, the king introduced the others at the table who nodded their heads in greeting. “Come, have a seat at the table and let’s hear this important news,” the king commanded, moving to the head of the table.
They all sat down and Jonas continued to stare at the huge painting on the wall in front of them. He had to look back and forth to take in the colossal piece of art.
“You like my painting, young Jonas?” the king asked.
“Yes, Your Highness. It is magnificent. I have never seen anything like it.”
“I should hope not,” the king said, turning to glance at the painting himself. He looked back at Jonas. “Do you know what that picture represents?”
“No, sir, I do not. It looks like a battle.”
“Indeed it is, but not just any battle. That painting represents the great battle at the Shadow Plains over a thousand years ago. The two warriors that you see are Malbeck, the Dark One himself, and my great ancestor, King Ullis, who slew him in combat. The battle against the evil that was fought on that day destroyed the battlefield forever. Even today nothing grows there, hence the name Shadow Plains. No one really knows why, but some suggest that when my ancestor killed the Dark One his evil was released, staining the ground and killing it forever. This sword that I carry is a replica of the very weapon that killed him.”
Standing, the king drew the dazzling weapon holding it so Jonas could see. It was a huge broadsword, beautifully crafted and each end of the cross piece was gold carved into eagle claws. Each claw was holding a sparkling round stone polished milky white. The hilt was wrapped in silver and the end piece was carved into a fist in front of the sun. The long silver blade bore no mars or imperfections and it looked like it had never been used. The king held the long heavy weapon with ease. “This weapon was forged by the dwarves and imbued with magic by the priests of Ulren. It is not the same blade of course, but it is very powerful.”
“It is beautiful, Your Highness,” Fil said, eyes wide with wonder.
“What happened to the actual sword that killed the Dark One?” Jonas asked.
“No one knows exactly. Legend says that when King Ullis defeated the Dark One, there was a huge explosion that killed many men, including my great ancestor. The sword and armor were nowhere to be found.”
“Come, Father, let us get to business. I have pressing matters to attend to,” Prince Nelstrom interrupted curtly.
The king eyed his son, and Jonas did not miss the animosity between the two. “Very well,” the king said, sheathing his sword. “Landon, my friend, please tell us this urgent news.”
The far door opened again and everyone turned to see a soldier escort Allindrian into the room. Her long forest green tunic flowed at her sides as she walked confidently to the table. She sat down and greeted everyone with a smile.
“It is good to see you, King Gavinsteal. I’m sorry I am late.” Allindrian gave a slight bow as she addressed the king.
The king returned the gesture with a warm smile. “Blade Singer, you are always welcome at my table, both for your skill and for your beauty.”
Allindrian smiled unabashedly at the king, enjoying his praise.
“You know my sons, Prince Baylin and Prince Nelstrom. This is Androg, high priest to Ulren and this is Manlin, high priest to Shyann.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you both and good to see you again, Prince Baylin,” Allindrian smiled warmly at the burly man who returned her smile. “And you, Prince Nelstrom, I’m glad you are well,” Allindrian added, her smile disappearing along with her warmth.
“Landon, if you will,” urged the king.
“I have dire news. It is reported by these two young men that Airos the cavalier was slain by a Banthra,” Landon said bluntly.
The room fe
ll quiet as the sobering news hit home.
“That cannot be!” exclaimed Androg with dismay. “He was a first rank cavalier! The best there was! How can this be?”
“Jonas, show them the blade,” urged Landon with a nod.
Jonas took out the knife from under his tunic, unsheathed the silver blade, and laid it on the table.
“Where did you get that?” stormed Androg.
“Androg, calm down,” Prince Baylin admonished. “These two boys are not thieves or they never would have come here.” He turned to Jonas. “Go ahead, son, tell us where you obtained the weapon, for that is most definitely Airos’s blade.” The prince had an aura of power and confidence, combined with a sense of dignity and honor. Jonas liked him immediately.
Jonas looked around the room and hesitantly began his tale. “Our village was attacked by boargs over three months ago. The force was led by a Banthra,” Jonas said, choking on the word.
“A Banthra?” Manlin interrupted. “I don’t believe it. They were all destroyed a thousand years ago.”
Jonas ignored the comment and continued. “Airos came the night before the attack to help us. He battled the Banthra and killed it, but he died in the process. Their bodies were both burned and fused together in death. I found Airos’s knife next to the remains.”
Fil interjected. “It is true, your highness. I fought with my family and friends and saw it with my own eyes. Everyone was killed except for Jonas and me.”
“I am sorry for your loss. This is indeed grave news. If a Banthra is back then the rumors we’ve heard of Malbeck’s return may indeed be true,” the king said thoughtfully.
“How is it that your entire village was killed but two young boys survived?” asked Prince Nelstrom, his tone hard and without compassion.
“Nelstrom, they have suffered greatly and they do not need your accusing comments,” Prince Baylin said to his brother. Nelstrom narrowed his eyes at his older brother but said nothing.
The Cavalier Page 15