by Sigrid Kraft
Eryn grabbed shield and spear and sprang into position. According to instructions, a soldier on watch had to hold shield and weapon in his hands while observing the surroundings intensively.
Phew, I noticed the danger just in time. The initial relief at being safe turned to shock again when it dawned on Eryn that Ravenor was still outside. Now we’re in the shit. I have to warn him at once. Whoever it is that’s approaching, he is almost at the top of the stairs.
To weave magic under extreme stress was no easy matter, and Eryn only just managed to create a ball of light, which he threw magically at the bushes. The ball flew like a shooting star before illuminating the bush in a bright flash.
I hope the officer didn’t notice. He is quite close now.
At that moment, a head appeared at the top of the staircase. But before the officer came to the upper platform completely, Eryn made his report in an attempt to distract the man: “Sir! Duty watch reports nothing particular to report!”
The light of the torch fell upon the superior’s face and Eryn cursed:
Pox and damnation! Sir Orten. Only such an ass would think of checking a watch twice.
“Shouldn’t there be two of you here?”
The question of all questions. Now things are about to get dicey. “Yes, Sir Orten, but regular Ravenor had to go for a crap. He’ll be back any minute, I’m sure. I wonder that you didn’t meet him on the way as he only left a moment before, hurrying downstairs very quickly.”
The lordling searched Eryn’s face. “Really?”
He doesn’t buy it. “Yes, Sir Orten, he looked mighty pale and had to leave his post rather urgently.
Sir Orten stepped over to the window and took a look outside.
“Well, then I will wait here until regular Ravenor returns. But if that should take more than five minutes, I will probably have to report this.”
He’s looking right at the bushes. I have to lure him away. Ravenor’s shield and spear were leaning on the wall and Eryn kicked at them, causing them to clatter noisily to the floor. As hoped, Sir Orten spun around, his body tensed in alarm.
“What are you doing, recruit Eryn?” he shouted
Ravenor, you owe me for this, and now please hurry up. “Sir Orten, I apologize. It seems I bumped clumsily against the weapons and they fell down.”
The torchlight fell on Sir Orten’s face, illuminating the contemptuous glance which was directed at him.
If I can see him, my face lies in the shadow. That’s good.
Sir Orten remarked snidely: “Imbecile. How will you ever become a proper soldier if you aren’t able to stand up straight?”
Shall I now remind him of his lousy archery? I would like nothing more. But I’d best flatter his vanity, like all the bootlickers around him.
A shadow dissolved from the bushes and spurted towards the gate.
At last! But I have to keep Sir Orten busy till Ravenor has crossed the open field. The officer made a move to turn around.
“Erm, Sir Orten, I really try to do justice to the demands of the Guard but so many things are new and unfamiliar to me.”
“Is it true that you hail from one of those uncivilized mountain tribes who wreaked so much havoc in the past?”
Great, nice chatting with Askir. RAAVENOOOR! “Yes, Sir Orten. I didn’t have the privilege of being born in one of Ardeen’s big cities.”
“Well, that is indeed bad luck. Education and culture in the capital are a quite different matter. It is positively shameful that there are still such underdeveloped areas in the realm. More care should be taken for the education of the people in the regions outside the densely populated areas.”
He really believes all his lofty words. Does he think I’m stupid because I come from the mountains?
Suddenly Sir Askir Orten remembered the reason why he was still there. “Where is soldier Ravenor now? I am becoming impatient.”
Wrong subject. Eryn was sweating blood. I can’t string him along any longer.
“Soldier Ravenor really looked very ill. Shall I go and look for him?”
The feeble attempt was crushed brutally: “No! I am beginning to suspect that soldier Ravenor left his post without permission. Do you have something to say to that, recruit Eryn?”
The trap is closing. It wasn’t easy for Eryn to bring the lies over his lips, but he did his best not to give anything away.
“Sir Orten, I can only repeat what I just said: Soldier Ravenor felt rather unwell and he left shortly before you turned up. Perhaps it would be advisable to seek his whereabouts.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion!” Sir Orten cut Eryn short.
Just show yourself up for the whoreson you are. You have the right rank for that now. The whole rank structure of the Guard is obnoxious. No free warrior would talk like that to another.
“Yes, Sir Orten.” One day you’ll eat your own shit for that, you son of a nobleman.
Finally the door below creaked open. And not a moment too soon. Eryn’s tension eased a bit but then he thought: Ravenor should look ill when he shows up, otherwise Sir Orten won’t believe a word I’ve been saying.
Not having a great deal of time to think, Eryn did the first thing that came to his mind. He drew all the illnesses he could find out of the dung heap and sent them over to Ravenor.
Even if I find another solution later on, right now I have no better idea. Has it worked or not? Doubts arose. But then Ravenor teetered in, barely able to stand. Even by the feeble glow of the torchlight, they could see how pale he was.
Whoops, a little too much, perhaps.
Shivering and sweating, Ravenor attempted a salute.
“Sir, regular Ravenor reports being back on watch. Sir, I want to report myself sick.” In his voice there wasn’t the slightest trace of a rebellious tongue but only of the suffering of a sick and unhappy man.
For an instant, Sir Orten was silent then he commanded generously: “Dismissed from duty, soldier! Go to the main watch. There is a mage doing service at the moment. I presume at this time, you won’t find anyone in the hospital ward. I’ll include that in my report.”
“Thanks, Sir Orten.”
Ravenor must be really sick if he utters such words without biting his tongue off.
“... and you continue keeping watch.” Sir Orten threw at Eryn before taking his leave.
Panting for breath, Ravenor sat on the bench and as soon as the door shut, he whispered to Eryn:
“Now you can unwitch me of this disease again. I feel absolutely wrecked.”
Whether Ravenor was whispering out of weakness or of caution, Eryn couldn’t say.
“Sorry, but I can’t unweave this. I can refresh you a little bit so that you make it up to the main watch.”
Ravenor covered his head in his hands and was trembling feverishly.
If Ravenor is at a loss for words, then it must be really terrible.
Eryn almost pitied his mate and cast a refreshing spell. Then he tried to cheer his friend up. “Look at it this way. It all looks rather authentic. Sir Orten didn’t doubt you were ill for an instant. And now you should go quickly, because in your condition the refreshing won’t last long. Don’t worry about your weapons. I’ll take them back to the quarters later on.”
Reeling, Ravenor got to his feet and struggled downstairs in silence.
Eryn watched him leave. Thanks for everything, Eryn. Seems I have to say that to myself. But I hope he has learnt his lesson now.
Even with the help of the mages, it took five whole days in the hospital ward to get Ravenor up and about again. Eryn almost felt sorry for what he had done. ...Almost. The entire sorry plight was his own fault. And for me as a prospective mage, it’s been an informative example of what can happen if sickness is directly projected on to someone. The old mages aren’t so mistaken when they warn us not to use magic recklessly.
Lord Boron and Prince Raiden rode to the commander’s new estate. A short distance away from the top of a small hill, they looked down
on to the building under construction.
“You could have hired mages to speed up the progress,” remarked the Prince reining in his nervous stallion. The Gray Wolf shrugged his shoulders.
“Hmm, mages mean more than double the expense, my Prince, and the project is advancing even in this conventional way. I must admit, though, it is annoying that the bricks aren’t here yet, but the merchants have assured me it won’t take much longer. And what are a few days anyway? At my age you have learned how to wait.”
Prince Raiden gave the Lord a playful punch on his shoulder-plating. “My dear Boron, you sound like an old man.”
Sometimes I feel that way, as there is no sorcery keeping me young.
“What’s happening in the Guard?” The Prince changed the subject.
“Nothing beyond the normal routine.”
Incredulously, the Lord of Naganor bent his head slightly to one side and raised an eyebrow.
“Nothing? I can barely believe that. And the Fenn lout and that other good-for-nothing?”
It was not difficulty to guess who was meant by that description.
“Master Lionas is pleased with Eryn’s progress and so are the others. The young man is ambitious and recently, he’s been doing rather well. He is the best archer in V Company, and Ravenor is the best swordsman. That young man is a hothead, but I presume the disciplining after the scene in the wine cellar has cooled him down a little. No more brawls, no insults or other transgressions. He even volunteered for extra duties and has been attracting only positive attention recently.
The Prince grinned smugly: “Didn’t I say that? Some cattle need a sound beating between their horns to understand how they have to behave.”
Who is it who fathers cattle? A breeding bull? I should turn to other thoughts...
“My Prince, what is actually supposed to happen with Eryn now? I mean, is he a scholar of magic or a normal recruit? Is he to be promoted in the same way as all the others or do you have different plans for him?”
The Prince kept silent for a moment before answering: “I have to think about it. Master Elderon also asks about him from time to time. Perhaps Eryn will be ordered to Aleroth and then the matter will settle itself. But we shouldn’t trouble ourselves with that today. Come on, let’s ride back.”
A light pressure against the flanks and Prince Raiden’s mount walked forward. Lord Boron rode his horse alongside him.
“Well, there is just one issue I almost forgot about, my Prince. We have empty stables and V Company isn’t mounted yet. Would you consider granting permission to increase the mounts by another one hundred horses?
“If they buy their horses themselves, then they can keep them in the garrison,”remarked the Prince scathingly.
“None of the men of the Bastards Company will be able to afford that, my Prince,” was Lord Boron’s unnecessary reply, which merely caused the Prince Raiden to flare up: “I’m very well aware of that fact. Are you intent on squeezing money out of me, Lord Boron? The acquisition of one hundred mounts, additional stabling and feed, this all together amounts to very great expenses. I won’t promise you anything but I’ll consider the matter and ask Master Werge to calculate the total sum. Then I’ll make my decision. Ultimately, I don’t want to end up as an impoverished nobleman who has to painstakingly create magical gold coins. And before even more expensive matters occur to you, let’s race back to the gate. Prove to me you’ve still got what it takes, old man.”
Prince Raiden tore his horse around and dug in his spurs, whereupon the steed reared up and galloped off.
12. The Long Way to the First Grade
Directly summoned to Lord Boron at headquarters. Even before breakfast – at once – best to be there early. Eryn hurried and wondered why he alone had been called to Lord Boron.
I haven’t done anything... recently. At least I’m not aware of having done anything wrong. What does he want with me?
But the commander didn’t want anything from Eryn and sent him straight to the Prince in the citadel. A matter that excited Eryn’s imagination even more.
Is it good if the Prince wants something?
Although Eryn could bear to be in the presence of the Prince again, it wasn’t at all pleasant.
And what shall that be? He’ll tell me soon enough. Eryn decided he couldn’t guess anyway and instead quickened his pace. The gate came in sight with two guards standing before it. They seemed sleepy because their shift was almost over and the guard would change soon. As Eryn approached, they simply waved him through.
“The Prince is in the great hall waiting for you.”
His Highness was breakfasting as Eryn saluted: “My Prince, you summoned me?”
The Lord of Naganor put the cutlery aside and examined Eryn from head to toe.
“Well, you finally made it. Took quite a long time even though the way is short.”
Doesn’t matter how fast I ran from the garrison to the citadel. It will always be too slow for His Highness. Perhaps next time I should fly.
“If only you could!”
Eryn was stunned to hear the Prince’s voice in his head. When the other mages telepath with me, I sense some kind of aura. But this is like a bolt from the blue.
The Prince continued aloud: “Several times now Master Elderon has asked me about your progress and I think it is time for a journey to Aleroth.”
This was very unexpected. Eryn was quite comfortable with the life he lived now. He had made friends and was more or less contented with the way things were. But the journey to Aleroth represented an unknown amount of insecurity, which could make his life very different.
Do I really want to go there?
I’m not so sure of this. But the Prince won’t care about my opinion anyway.
“When will I go through the gate, my Prince?”
The Prince now rose and came towards Eryn. “Not through the gate. We’ll travel the common way.”
We?!
“With horses and pack, just as the simple unmagical people. Here.” He handed Eryn a list. ”Get all this at the garrison. I expect you back at the main gate in no more than half an hour. And now you are dismissed!”
As soon as Eryn left the hall, he read the list. In half an hour? How can he think that possible?
While Eryn hurried away, Prince Raiden followed him with a magical eye.
It seems the young man has developed positively. He is respectful and dashing, and I hear only good things about him. The best archer of the whole Guard, and Master Lionas reports that Eryn is talented and assiduous. But always some suspicion that the lad hasn’t enough time for his studies because of his other duties.
Eryn ran back the way he had recently come, in order to keep to the schedule.
He really tries, but without some sorcery he has no hope of making it on time. Unfortunately that kind of magic is far beyond the scope of a novice magician.
The Lord of Naganor brooded on. I hope his progress in the art is acceptable. Master Elderon wishes for Eryn to go to Aleroth. In fact he ordered me to send the young man to the White Tower.
I persuaded him that I should travel with the lad, taking the usual way, which also passes by an old ruin where we can undertake some field investigation. I probably need that time to see what Eryn has really learned. I haven’t shown any interest at all in the matter for months now. But I made Master Elderon think that all would be for the best. I told the White Mage that I had success with Eryn and the first mage seems to think that I am now linked with this savage and want to teach him myself. As if I would waste my time on that! The illiterate should learn to read first, and in any case he doesn’t need me to teach him the light spell. I’m a high mage and have better things to do.
Prince Raiden had an uneasy feeling because he didn’t really know what the young man had learned so far. He was afraid of disappointing Master Elderon, should Eryn not show acceptable results, and that is why he insisted on this journey, which would give him the opportunity to test Eryn’s know
ledge and also to examine the old ruin.
Eryn returned just a few minutes late, mounted and with a packhorse too. His eyes widened at the sight of the citadel yard. Prince Raiden was clad in full armor of shining black, but the stallion he rode was more eye-catching still. A beast which Eryn had only heard of, never seen. The demon horse Braeven’s Brood. His ears were like those of a dragon and there were horns on the bridge of his nose. Instead of hair, his body was covered in scales which shone as black as the Prince’s armor. In the garrison it was said that the stallion could also breathe fire.
Even before Eryn reined his mount to a stop, something smacked him on the back of his head.
Oh, not a good start.
“Too late.”
“Apologies, my Prince, I... ”
“Do you think I am interested in boring excuses?”
“Ah, no, my Prince.” How long will this journey to Aleroth take? And will it be possible to ride quickly?
“Well, then. We can leave now,” the Prince said and turned his stallion towards the gate.
Eryn’s mount was very afraid of Brood and didn’t want to go near the demon horse. It didn’t help matters that Brood rolled his eyes and pawed ferociously with his hoof.
Like master, like beast.
They took the road south. Brood pranced nervously and Prince Raiden remarked: “I haven’t ridden Braeven’s Brood for a long while. I’ll let him run a bit. Stay close... if you can.”
Then he galloped off and stones flew up behind him. Eryn found it difficult to stick close to them on his own mount and with the packhorse. His horse was soon panting and drenched in sweat.
If the Prince doesn’t rein in his mount soon, my hack is finished. Or shall I just fall back?!
Eryn decided to spare his mount and reined it into a walk. A long way ahead the Prince vanished from sight.
And now? It’s ironic somehow. At last I’m alone as far as the eye can see and there’s nothing to stop me from just walking away. Apart from: The Black Prince. So I’d better follow the road and get crapped on for falling behind and not riding my horse into the ground.