by Sigrid Kraft
“Look at him! Lazing around and sleeping!”
Eryn leapt up: “My Prince...” Then he realized that he had mistaken Ravenor’s voice for his father’s.
“You stupid numbskull! Scaring the life out of me!”
Deren and Farat came in behind Ravenor, all of them covered in mud.
“So? How was your vacation, while we’ve been trekking up and down the hills?” teased Ravenor. Eryn wanted to smack him.
“Please do volunteer for the job of adjutant to His Highness, Ravenor, if you think that it’s so easy. I have had a terrible time and I would prefer any amount of mud to more of His Highness’s company.”
Deren laughed: “Well then, you can look forward to joining us on tomorrow’s exercise.”
Then they sat down, and Eryn told his friends about all the adventures he had had.
The mist was still hanging in the fields as Sir Galden’s troop lined up at the bottom of a small hill, on whose highest point a spear had been rammed into the soft soil. The soldiers were to compete to see who could take the hill and be the first to capture the spear. Recent exercises had turned the ground into a muddy field, and their heavy boots sank ankle-deep. Sir Galden gave the command to start, and everyone raced off.
Magic is creativity. These words still rang in Eryn’s ears. So he cast frost onto the soil in front of him, because it was much easier to sprint on hard ground than on sticky mud.
All the same, as they reached the summit, Ravenor caught up with him. So Eryn put a wall of earth in his friend’s way. This slight bit of cheating helped Eryn win the race. His hand grabbed the spear and he pulled it out of the ground, raising it to the sky in celebration of his glorious victory.
Ha! I won and used a lot of magic too.
With his winner’s smile, Eryn strode back down the hill. Many hostile glances were thrown his way, and Sir Galden also seemed somewhat displeased as he ordered Eryn to approach.
“What do you think you are playing at?”
“Solving a problem by using the power of magic, Sir Galden.”
His superior turned icy: “Who am I?”
Oh damn, I can’t please anyone! “You are Sir Galden, Officer of V Company, Sir.”
“Very astute. So I am not Sir Heime of IV Company. It follows therefore that all tasks can be carried out simply without using any kind of witchcraft or magic.”
At least I can now think without fear of being punished for it: Kiss my behind! “Yes, Sir Galden.”
But the troop leader had not finished yet. “When training is over, you will remove the wall of earth you created so recklessly, not with magic but with a shovel. Your roommate will supervise you and report to me later. Understood?”
For the rest of the exercise, the men slogged through the mud till they were all covered from head to toe.
Then the Company was dismissed, except for Eryn, who had his extra work to do. Ravenor stood to one side and watched Eryn moving the heavy soil.
“I’d love to help, but you know how it is.”
The shovel disappeared in the wet mud.
“Don’t worry, Ravenor. Do I look bothered? I’m not kidding when I say it’s great to be back again. And in the meantime I’ve learned some really useful spells. Like a rain spell to clean armor. I just have to improve my technique a little bit...”
13. Special Order: Watching the Children
The Prince was dining with Lord Boron in the Great Hall of Naganor. Prince Raiden hated to eat alone and if he could not be in the company of a lady, Lord Boron would have to do.
Not infrequently there were also important matters to discuss, as was the case now.
For several years now, King Tarn had suffered from mental illness and no one was able to help him. Mages were as helpless as common healers.
The King was old and his health was failing. It was already a grave situation when Prince Raiden last visited Arvon, and therefore the call from Danian was not unexpected. He informed his brother that the King was wasting away, deteriorating with every hour that passed. It would certainly not be long, and Danian begged his brother to come to Arvon as quickly as possible.
You must pay your respects to your King and father before he dies. His body is following his spirit, which left us a long time ago.
That was the moment Prince Raiden had felt real loss. Now only the empty shell was left. It is vital for Ardeen that we show there is power, solidarity and total unity between us brothers. That will help Danian when he accedes to the throne. He is definitely the right man for that.
Raiden was completely sure on this point and did not begrudge his brother the throne at all, especially as he was well aware of the endless duties connected with it. And Raiden had no intention of burdening himself with such hateful work.
Still, I will not bend my knee to my brother or to anyone else. But I shall stand behind him and cover his back against all the nobles’ evil words and actions. Rumor has it I that I too am longing for the throne. Such nonsense! But idle talk must be vehemently denied all the same. Why should I, the Towerlord of Naganor, the strongest mage in the world, second only to Master Elderon, want the throne of a simple kingdom? I am only interested in removing the soulban, my personal curse. And for that a throne is not the slightest use to me. On the contrary, being King would only add to my burdens and troubles.
Prince Raiden was sitting in his usual place and had not exchanged a single word with Lord Boron yet. They had eaten in total silence as the Prince was thinking of King Tarn. It was a delicious meal, but he did not appreciate the exquisite flavors and swallowed apathetically.
Then he broke the silence: “Lord Boron, I will soon leave for Arvon. The King is very ill. We must expect the worst… I need an escort to accompany me.”
Lord Boron had also heard the rumors about the King’s health. The whole realm spoke of little else.
“My Prince, how many men are you thinking of? A special unit?”
Prince Raiden pushed his half-eaten plate away. “Thirty men… or perhaps fifty is better. That gives a good impression without looking too threatening. Fifty strong fighters. No mages. They always make the unmagical nervous. I will take the Nurin too.”
His commander was surprised. The Prince had not stopped complaining about what an idiot Eryn had been on their journey to Aleroth. And now he asks for him especially?
“My Prince, do you mean Eryn? Was he not… – what was the word exactly…? Ah, I remember now: “useless”?”
The Prince swept breadcrumbs from the table and took a large swig from his wine glass.
Lord Boron did not expect an answer to his question, because His Highness simply ignored a question sometimes, especially if he did not consider it worthwhile. So he was surprised to hear:
“Yes, Eryn. He cooks rather well, and I have no wish to train another fool to be my new manservant. What is more, his mistakes are predictable.”
The Gray Wolf accepted this and made his decisions. He assigned Sir Haerkin to be escort commander. Sir Haerkin was himself from Arvon and could handle nobles with ease. As Lord Boron thought family to be important, he also selected the Prince’s illegitimate sons serving in the guard. King Tarn was their grandfather, even if this was never spoken of publicly. Two of them, Hartwig and Lysander, had served in II Company for several years now. II Company was known as The Regulars, as it had no new recruits in its ranks.
Both are good men, with little concern for their fate, unlike Ravenor. I am not sure I will choose him too. Apart from the magical aspects, Ravenor is similar to his father in many ways – hot tempered, arrogant, aggressive, stubborn and unreasonable. Just as the Prince was in his younger years.
It took a while for Lord Boron to make up his mind. On the other hand Ravenor is an outstanding swordsman and can always be relied upon to be a good fighter. He is also a member of the family. This was the decisive point in Lord Boron’s eyes. So he made his decision as a result and tried to persuade himself: He’ll certainly be clever enough not to mes
s things up and, as far as I am aware, he has behaved himself since the last time.
Prince Raiden himself led the escort out the next day. Mounted on Braeven’s Brood, he cut an imposing figure, and many men gazed at the demon horse in admiration. Eryn on the other hand was far from pleased to see the black devil again at close quarters, or to have to serve once again as manservant to the Prince. He was probably the only man in the troop who would have preferred to stay in the garrison instead of going to Arvon.
They rode south at a fast pace, while the Prince brooded, silent and stony-faced. Eryn was very pleased about this. It was only dangerous when they stopped to rest. Eryn had to guess the Prince’s wishes even before His Highness had expressed them. If he was unable to read the Prince’s mind unmagically, he would receive a blow to help his thought processes.
Eryn had to take care of Brood, to cook for His Highness, to keep the armor and weapons clean, to set up camp and to be available whenever he was needed.
The job was made more stressful by Ravenor’s jealousy, and his friend began to lose respect for him. Eryn would gladly have given the job to Ravenor, but his friend did not believe him and was annoyed. He hardly talked to Eryn – not that Eryn had much time to chat anyway – and went off with his half-brothers.
Until now, Ravenor had had very little contact with Hartwig and Lysander. It was only through his comrades that he discovered they were related at all. Neither of them came from the village in Naganor’s shadow, where Ravenor had grown up. Both were the sons of minor noble houses. Their mothers had once been young, pretty noblewomen but their families had fallen on hard times and now had no more wealth than common farmers. This was the reason why the young men had joined the Guard.
They also looked less like Prince Raiden than Ravenor did. Hartwig was blond and seemed to take after his mother completely. Lysander had Prince Raiden’s nose and dark curly hair, but his forehead and eyes were completely different.
Ravenor had tried to start a conversation about the Prince and their backgrounds more than once, but Hartwig always told him to change the subject, because nothing good would come of it.
That evening, when they were already two days’ ride closer to Arvon, Prince Raiden sat and stared into the distance with a blank expression. He had done that several times over the last few days, and Eryn assumed that he was having a telepathic connection.
Suddenly the Lord of Naganor eyes snapped open, and he barked at Eryn: “Saddle Brood, I leave for Arvon immediately!”
The blond Fenn did not dare ask, but assumed that the King was breathing his last.
As soon as he returned with Brood, Prince Raiden tore the reins out of his hand and swung himself onto the saddle. Then he galloped off into the dawn.
Sir Haerkin was informed about the Prince’s departure for Arvon. He took command and told Eryn he would be working for him from now. Eryn was severely annoyed: So, Ravenor, do you still envy me? Everyone is enjoying the nice trip and the change of routine, but I’m at the bottom of the pile!
Arvon was the biggest town Eryn had ever seen and he marveled at its size. So many houses made of stone, so many towers and palaces! Arvon extends as far as the eye can see. How many people live here?
Flags bearing the arms of Ardeen hung everywhere, with black flags or ribbons beside them. All these signs of mourning made it clear that the King had died. The Guard rode with iron discipline through the town, straight to the King’s palace. Earlier that morning, Sir Haerkin had given precise instructions about proper behavior, and all the soldiers took that advice seriously.
When they arrived at the palace, the troop was assigned to their quarters. The sad news was confirmed: the King had died the day before, and his two sons, Crown Prince Danian and Prince Raiden, were now keeping vigil at the temple.
Meanwhile, the escort enjoyed lazing about in their quarters, waiting for further commands.
All of them would certainly have liked to go out on the town, but Sir Haerkin had given them strict instructions to stay put. No one could know when the Prince might summon them. It happened sooner than expected.
The vigil had lasted a whole day and night and, as soon as it was over, the Prince summoned his men. He had slept very little or not at all during recent nights, and not even refreshing spells could hide the dark rings beneath his eyes. His loss affected him more than he had expected, and so he hid behind his guard as if it were a protective cloak.
Danian’s wife and children, as well as Prince Raiden’s spouse, were on their way to Arvon, but would not arrive for a few days. Of all the women in the world, his wife was the only one Prince Raiden was not longing to see. The marriage had been arranged to benefit Ardeen, by guaranteeing a peaceful relationship with the neighboring country Gelderon through a bond of blood. Prince Raiden could certainly have refused and several times he asked himself why he had not. If nothing else was holy to Prince Raiden though, duty to his country was deeply rooted in his heart.
Moreover, his father had insisted that he do so. And now she lived her life and he lived his. They only met at the few official ceremonies they were both required to attend.
The King was buried with full honors. After a day of mourning, the new King’s coronation approached, bringing with it many festivities. The grief in the people’s hearts made way for happy expectations of magnificent and jolly ceremonies.
In the meantime, Prince Raiden had much to discuss with Danian, and the great unity between the two brothers soon dispelled any lingering doubts about conflict surrounding the throne. Important people arrived from all parts of the country, and crowds traveled to Arvon to watch too. All the taverns were soon full, as more and more people surged through the gates, eager to witness the coronation ceremonies.
Danian’s wife and children had arrived late in the evening. Exhausted by their long journey, they had retired at once, as the following days promised to be rather tiring too.
The next morning Prince Raiden was pacing up and down in his apartment’s large reception room. Doors led from there to his private chambers. Danian had given these rooms to his brother because Raiden had lived in that part of the palace before.
Prince Raiden had to go to a diplomatic meeting soon. In fact he was already late, but there were so many endless, boring meetings these days! He looked formidable in his armor but was still lacking his helmet and could not find it at all.
Damn! Where did I put it? I’m sick and tired of these official functions. And it isn’t doing my nerves any good to be constantly running around like a blue-arsed fly. Without the spell to make my armor comfortable it would be truly unbearable.
Ten guardsmen were already lined, waiting with stony faces until their Prince was ready to go. At last Raiden noticed his helmet on a chest of drawers in the corner.
I don’t at all remember putting it there. Perhaps I should mark my things with a spell, Raiden thought, as the door was flung open and two children came running in.
A boy with flat black hair was followed by a little girl with blond braids. The two braids bounced merrily up and down when she ran.
“Uncle, Uncle, have you got anything for me?” the boy shouted across the room.
Prince Raiden scolded him, but not in a serious way: “Is that any way to greet your fine uncle?”
The boy stopped at once, bowed slightly, and then solemnly announced: “I greet you, Uncle Raiden, and am pleased that you abide by us here in the palace.”
A smile flashed across Raiden’s face.
“So young and already a little nobleman. You have grown, Tyren. Let me look at you!”
The Prince tousled the boy’s hair, which Tyren did not like at all. The little girl knew nothing of proper behavior. She hopped towards Prince Raiden and warbled with her squeaky voice: “Uncle, Uncle!”
The Prince picked her up and swung her through the air: “My word, you have become quite heavy, Elfi! Heavy as a feather!”
The girl glared at the Black Prince. “Uncle, my name is Elfrey. You
know that.”
The guardsmen looked straight ahead and tried their best not to smile. It was truly wondrous to witness the strict and powerful Lord of Naganor treating his brother’s children in such a jovial way.
Ravenor and Eryn stood towards the middle of the row. While Ravenor’s face became even stonier, Eryn could barely stop himself from laughing. If I told him that my name is Eryn and not Nurin... I would need to be a little girl to be able to speak my mind.
Prince Raiden ignored the child’s protests: “You are my little Elfi.”
“Let me down!” she demanded, but Raiden swung her through the air again, and the girl laughed brightly.
“When I hold a beauty in my arms, I never let her go.”
Should he really be saying such things to a child? Eryn wondered.
Meanwhile the boy had turned his attention to the guardsmen and his eyes were bright with wonder.
“Uncle, are those your men?”
The Prince put down the girl and addressed the boy: “Yes, Tyren, this is my escort. Men of the Black Guard. They are the best-trained men in the whole of Ardeen.”
Oh, balm for the soul! Why does he never say such things to us? Otherwise it’s always: Nurin, waster, fool. Eryn’s thoughts remained unnoticed, because Prince Raiden’s attention was elsewhere, luckily.
The boy blurted out: “Uncle, I want to have such guards too. I only have Kain and Torren, but these ones look much better. Can I have them as long as you stay here, Uncle, pleeeease?!”
Toys for children? He can’t do that to us. Or can he?
There was a tense wait for the Prince’s answer. His Highness laughed heartily.
“You have the right fire within you, young man, but I cannot give those men to your command. We had better wait a few more years for that.”
The boy stuck to his guns: “Uncle, for my safety. When father becomes King, I’ll be in even greater danger than I already am. Please, Uncle.” Tyren put all his persuasive powers into his words, and finally Prince Raiden gave in to the request. “Well, you can have one of the men – for your safety,” he said meaningfully.