by Jordan Baker
“Tarnath makes me read all kinds of books in the winter, when it’s too cold to go outside. Most of them are pretty boring, but it’s better than staring at the seasons. There’s a lot of who married this person and who won what battle where. He even made me start learning different languages. He said it’s basic training, but I have never met anyone from most of the places I have read about or who speaks any of the languages I have learned. Like you said, we never leave.” Aaron sighed.
“Yeah, well I’m going,” Brian told him. He had a determined expression, that stubborn look that he got when he had decided on something and would not be dissuaded. Aaron knew he had not done much of a job to talk him out of pursuing the soldier’s life and he hoped that maybe Tarnath would have better luck.
“Where are you going to go?” Aaron asked him. Maybe if he thought about it a little more, Brian might realize that it was no small thing just to run off and join the army.
“I don’t know. I’m going to sign up with Lord Kaleb. I hear that he’ll train you to fight and after that you have to serve with his guard for five years, then if you’re good, you get a commission and you can go where you want. I’ll bet there are dukes, barons, earls and other such all over the kingdom looking for a good soldier,” he said.
“But you’re a farmer. There are crops to harvest and work to be done,” Aaron said, trying one more time. He knew how much Brian hated farm work and that his argument would probably not work. He continued more seriously. “What does your father think about your plan?”
“Yeah, right. Pa’s got my brothers to help him. You saw how big they’re getting. And they love the farm! Soon, he won’t have to do anything except send them out to the fields and let them do all the work. I’ve made up my mind. I’m goin'.”
“When?” asked Aaron.
“Soon. I’m thinking I should stay around the farm for harvest to help out but I don’t think I can handle another winter cooped up out there.”
“So you’re sure of it. Your father won’t forbid it?” Aaron asked him.
“Nah, I talked to him. You want to know a secret? My uncle Will is a kind of soldier too. He’s an archer somewhere up north. He guards a forest though. I can’t imagine why. What’s to guard, some trees? Maybe a rabbit or two? I might go see him if Lord Kaleb doesn’t take me on and if he won’t let me be a soldier, then I’ll go to the crown city of Maramyr and knock on the door to the palace itself.”
*****
That night, a cool breeze swept down from the northern mountains toward Maramyr. The many torches and lamps that lit the maze of the Crown City’ streets and buildings flickered in the darkness. A window shutter on the top floor of an inn clattered briefly and was stilled by a gloved hand. With deft silence, a lithe figure clothed in black swung in through the window and leather-padded feet landed softly on the floorboards with barely a sound. Atop a small table, a candle near the end of its wick guttered in the last bits of wax, its faint light illuminating the figure in black and a pair of green eyes glittered in the flickering flame.
The intruder carefully unwrapped the black cloth to reveal a mass of curls the color of light honey and the fresh and beautiful face of a young woman. Ariana heard the sound of approaching footsteps from behind the heavy wooden door to the room. The metallic scraping of a key entering the lock told her that the room’s occupant was returning and she casually took a seat at the small table atop which the candle flickered. Ariana looked at the candle and focused her thoughts on it, and its wax reformed with a new taper, one that would last for many more hours. This would likely be a long visit.
The door opened and a young man, tall and lanky, all but tripped through the door. Ariana laughed quietly and he glanced over at her with a scowl then he closed the door quickly behind him. He put the key in the lock and turned it.
“How fare you, master mage?” Ariana put her elbow on the table and smiled.
“I am fine, princess. I won’t ask how you got in here but I suppose it’s time for your lesson,” he said, his voice to a near whisper. He walked to the window and closed the shutter. A raven landed on a nearby rooftop and watched as the warm light from the window was blocked. It squawked once, then flapped its dark wings and circled upward over the city.
*****
At the palace, Regent-King Cerric tapped his foot impatiently as the black robed mage finished his conjuring. In the water of the chalice, the image of the closed window faded showing only the clear liquid glistening coldly. Cerric hated the fact that he needed Dakar. He hated that his own magic was too weak to manage the simple scrying spell that the mage priest before him had effected so effortlessly.
“What is your opinion, Dakar?” the King asked, his voice hard with displeasure. The mage turned to look at the man who still foolishly thought he was his sovereign.
“I know of this mageling. She has visited him before,” Dakar told him.
“And?” Cerric asked impatiently.
“He is young and not very powerful. He might teach her a few tricks, nothing more. I have watched her closely and she has yet to demonstrate anything beyond the simplest of magics. Still, she is young and so is her power.” Dakar’s dry voice hung in the air. Cerric grunted disapprovingly.
Few people had known that Ariana’s father, King Gregor and Cerric’s own half-brother, had been a powerful mage. It was a secret that King Gregor had kept from all but his own family and closest advisors. His brother Cerric, however, was far less gifted and that fact had always grated on him. He felt slighted and jealous that his brother was graced not only with the throne, but also the power to become a mage, while he himself had been denied both. Still, Gregor’s magic had not saved him and now, Cerric not only ruled the kingdom, but he had at his command the powerful, if not sometimes distasteful, assistance of Dakar and his order of mage-priests.
“Then you suggest I allow this to continue?” Cerric asked blandly.
Dakar had long known of Cerric’s discomfort towards magic and he used Cerric’s sentiments to foster his royal support of the priesthood, whose mission it was to bring all mages into its fold, where they could be controlled. Cerric was a savvy regent who wanted to be king, and Dakar knew that as much as his order sought to manipulate him, the game was being played both ways. Cerric had supported the priesthood with the agreement that he himself would become a central figure in the new religion. That was the deal that Cerric had struck with the order of mage priests. Dakar had taken up the task of preparing the regent in the ways of the new religion, serving as his spiritual and magical advisor. It was a necessary arrangement, and though Dakar found Cerric to be a wholly distasteful man, they both agreed on one thing. The princess would become a threat once her powers matured.
“I will keep watch on her and soon, when the time is right, we will invite her to Blue Island. The Priesthood will gladly make her an acolyte,” Dakar suggested.
Cerric grinned cruelly. He knew what the priests did to mages of power, once they had them in their clutches. He often wondered if Dakar too had been ensnared like the rest of the priesthood, or if somehow he was permitted some greater amount of freedom due to his required presence at the Maramyrian court. Sadly, Cerric lacked the power to tell if his own personal mage priest acted of his own accord or was directed by his brethren. It did not matter. He would find out soon enough. When the priests kept their side of the bargain, he would have his own power, enough to rival that of any mage, priest or otherwise. That had been the promise of the book.
“You would train her?” Cerric asked, sounding the concerned supportive uncle, and good loyal disciple. Dakar did not believe his act in the slightest but he played along regardless.
“Oh yes. That way, you may also be sure that she will come to see the wisdom of your, and our, plans. The Priesthood would be most honoured.” Dakar’s face remained ambiguous though his mind raced through myriad agendas that would become possible with the Crown Princess in his hands.
He would not tell the regent King how tr
uly gifted his niece was. She could prove more difficult to manage, the longer they waited, but he knew they must. To remove her now though, before the Priesthood was truly in control of Maramyr, might disrupt other plans. No, dealing with the Princess could wait, for now. Dakar smiled at his next thought. She would be broken in due course and the fool, Cerric would no longer be an obstacle.
*****
It took the better part of the afternoon for the party to reach the town of Ashford but the sun was still high in the sky as they arrived at the home of Brian’s aunt. Rosa, who was Jacob’s older sister, lived in a medium sized house at the edge of town. Aaron had been there a few times over the years. It was a modest place, with a small yard and a garden, but it had a stable big enough for the six horses and room around back for the two wagons. She was able to keep the place up by working as a seamstress, sewing dresses for the local women in exchange for various goods or if the house needed some work done, the same women would send their husbands or brothers to help out. The small jobs she did had provided for her and she seemed content living in Ashford. As they rode up to the gate, Rosa rushed out of the house to greet them, and Aaron noticed that her eyes lit up a little more when she spotted Tarnath.
“Boys! Jacob, Mariel, welcome!” she cried merrily. “Tarnath, glad to see you all came to visit. Come in. I’ve got food ready and I thought we might be seeing you so I made enough for everyone.” She ushered her brother and his wife into the house and gave Tarnath an expectant look.
“Rosa,” Tarnath greeted her. “Always a pleasure. We’ll be right along after we get these horses stabled and clean ourselves up.”
“I’ll pour some wine,” she told him. “I am sure you must be thirsty.” Tarnath smiled even though he preferred ale. She always served him wine, and he always drank it.
“That would be lovely,” he said, graciously. “Thank you.”
She smiled back at him then went in the house to finish greeting Jacob and Mariel and making them feel at home. Tarnath turned to look at Aaron, Brian and the two twins, Diller and Jake.
“All right boys, let’s tether the horses and get the wagons settled.” Tarnath spied a rain barrel next to the house. The water would be cold but it would serve them well enough to get presentable for some of Rosa’s famous cooking, something which Tarnath did like, and had enjoyed on more than one occasion.
Once they had secured the wagons and refreshed themselves, they all piled into the house and sat at the big table in the main room. Rosa had prepared a feast for their arrival and she had also set out some of her finest settings. She seemed to take especial care to make sure that Tarnath had enough food and that his cup was topped off with wine, for which he was most gracious. It had been years since her husband had left Rosa a widow and almost as many years that she had held a fancy for the retired old armsmaster. No doubt she would want him to stay the night, as he might have done on more than one occasion during his visits to Ashford, but he was not sure he wanted everyone else to know about it. The sleeping arrangements would be tight as she only had one spare room in which Jacob and Mariel would stay. The boys would likely sleep outside in the hayloft and Tarnath suggested that it might be better if he and Aaron tried to find a room at an inn but Rosa refused to hear any of it. Tarnath could sleep on the large sofa in the main room of the house if he wished, or he could share a bed with her. That suggestion brought some color to the old man’s cheeks. Aaron did not think he had ever seen Tarnath blush.
CHAPTER THREE
Then next morning, Aaron set out with Brian and his two younger brothers to wander through the town. After much opposition then finally gracious thanks from Brian’s father, Tarnath had given each of them a gold coin and, with these small fortunes gripped tightly in their hands, they went looking for adventure, and possibly a few gifts for the spring festival. A gold coin was enough to cover a week’s worth of shopping, or drinking, for that matter, so Tarnath gave them a wink and made them promise to have fun. Brian’s mother, of course, made them promise not to have too much fun.
In the town square, merchants had set up booths and tents, peddling their various wares. The scent of exotic spices and foods filled the air and the boys wandered aimlessly together. They were to meet Tarnath and Brian’s parents at one of the nicer local inns for a midday meal, which gave them plenty of time to explore. They walked among the many townsfolk who had gathered for the festival and saw a number of soldiers dressed in the red and gold colors of the King's Army and bearing the standard from a nearby barony. Brian wondered if they might be Lord Kaleb’s men, but Aaron was pretty sure that they were not. They walked past a feverish looking man in a black robe who was speaking to a small crowd that had gathered. He did not look like his voice was raised, but Brian noticed that he could hear the man’s voice as though he were whispering in his ear.
“The One Book reveals the truth of the One God who will come, who will walk among us and by our humble devotion and obedience raise us up as his army that we may dominate the heavens and the lands under the divine leadership of he, our supreme deity.” The black-robe said as they passed. Brian noticed Aaron holding the side of his head and wincing as though he were in some pain.
“Are you okay, Aaron?” Brian asked. Aaron nodded, though he still looked miserable.
“I felt like, I don’t know, almost as though I was getting a headache.” Aaron shook his head and the pounding in his head began to recede as the priests moved further away. “It’s going away now.” Brian raised an eyebrow.
“You’re supposed to get the headache after we drink the cask of ale, not before,” he joked. Aaron smiled at his friend. Brian was always one for setting sensible priorities.
The spring festival would last several days and each day would bring a new caravan and different things to see and buy, but they decided to save their gold until they had seen as many things as possible. It was almost midday by the time they found their way to the Inn of the Hungry Lion and the boys decided to enter and find a place to sit. It was typically dark inside but well furnished and clean. Travellers sat at the bar, resting from their various journeys to town from the surrounding countryside. The boys decided that their first order of business would be to ask for something to quench their thirst, so they took a seat at a long table near to the bar and waited to be served. The innkeeper himself came over to their table, eyeing them just a little suspiciously.
“I hope you young gentlemen have brought enough coppers to cover your meals. I run an up-scale house here, the best fare in town,” he said, raising a sceptical eyebrow at them.
A patron sitting nearby chuckled.
“It’s the only fare in town,” he joked. The innkeeper scowled at him.
“Which means it’s the best,” the innkeeper said tersely.
With that, all four of them proudly placed each of their coins on the table before them, the yellow metal gleaming dully on the dark, worn wood.
“Ah, gold it is, fine sirs. We don’t see much of that in these parts, though it is festival time. You’ll have to let me fetch my strongbox of silvers and coppers if you’re going to pay with those, unless, of course you’re planning to sit here drinking for a week.” He smiled and in a visibly improved mood took their orders and hurried off to the kitchen.
Brian stretched and leaned back into the heavy wood back of his seat.
“Ah, a little money, a little respect.” He grinned. “All you need is a few gold sovereigns and you get treated like a lord.”
“Very impressive,” Aaron told him, though he thought Brian might just be thinking of his dreams of the future.
“Yeah, too bad no one’s impressed,” Jake quipped. “We all got a gold coin each, so we all get respect!”
The twins nodded to each other in serious agreement. Brian scowled at them then his attention was drawn away as he looked across to a nearby table.
“Now there’s someone I’d like to impress,” he said and Aaron looked.
A large man and a young woman had ju
st sat down. The man was a warrior of some sort, and from some faraway place. Though his clothes were of very fine make, they did not resemble anything that would be worn in the lands of Maramyr, and certainly not Ashford. He was big, too and it looked like he’d seen some scrapes, a fact that was further attested to by the score marks on the massive battle-axe that leaned against his table. Aaron noticed the girl who had caught Brian’s eye. She was much younger than the man and very pretty, though she too seemed different from the local girls, though less foreign. Something about her made him wonder if she might not be someone important, especially since the man with her, who looked like he might be her father, had an air of command about him. Aaron caught the girl looking in his direction and he quickly averted his eyes so as not to be caught staring. However, Brian was clearly smitten and was shamelessly gawking at her. Aaron noticed the big warrior glance over in their direction and he kicked his friend under the table.
“You might not want to stare,” he warned. “That guy looks pretty tough and who knows how protective he might be of his daughter.”
“I can’t help it, she’s beautiful!” Brian said, oblivious to what could easily become a very tense situation. His brothers laughed at him.
“Brian, you say that about every girl you meet,” Diller teased.
The serving maid appeared with their drinks just as Tarnath and Jacob arrived. The boys were just about to reach for the frothy mugs of ale when they saw their father walk up to the table.
“I see my boys have started to acquire certain tastes.” He looked disapprovingly at the young twins, who quickly slid their mugs in front of Brian and Aaron as though they hadn't been drinking. Tarnath chuckled and said to the serving maid.