He in no way wanted to think about the consequences if he disappointed her. She’d have his head. No amount of guards in the known world would be able to stop her, either. His eyes fell to the swords in his hands and considered them for a long moment. “Why dual wielding?”
Her eyes were on her work, hands already reaching for things as she answered him. “It’s a mental exercise as well as physical. If you have a shield, you think of defense. Your mind considers retreat instead of attack. But you must not think like this. You must learn to attack, and attack, until your enemy can only admit defeat. This kingdom will fall otherwise.”
She might very well be right.
“Besides,” she added in an off-hand manner that chilled his blood, “I’ve seen fights that could have been won if the swordsman had been able to dual wield. If you ever are injured on one side, you can still fight with the other. It’s a matter of life and death.”
Bellomi swore to himself right then and there that he was going to spend five hours a day with his new swords. Definitely five. “What else do I need to learn?”
“Big will show you the way.”
In other words, she was tired of talking and wanted to work now. He knew better than to push for any other answers. He’d wait until she stopped before asking anything else. So he gave her a short bow and quietly left the room. As soon as the workroom door closed behind him, he stopped and really looked at the mountain for the first time.
Having never been out of the palace before, to him, it looked like how he imagined a mountain to look with rounded stone walls and a dirt floor. The tunnels seemed large to him, but things usually did. Still, a giant could walk through here with plenty of clearance on all sides. He could hear the softest sound of wind blowing through, even though he couldn’t feel it. The air felt slightly chill and humid, though, and he could smell running water. Were there waterfalls inside somewhere?
He gave a befuddled look around him, but he didn’t really know where to focus to talk to Big. Sevana had put her hand against the wall when she spoke, though. Maybe he should do the same? Juggling the swords again, he put them in one hand and reached out with the other to put his palm flat against the rough wall.
“Big, your master said that you would show me where to go next?” he trailed off uncertainly.
The ground under his feet changed slightly, sloping downwards at a slight degree. Three doors down, one of the doors opened with a slight creak, which was just spooky. If Bellomi hadn’t known better, he’d swear the place was haunted. “Uh, you have my thanks?”
A gust of wind appeared from nowhere and whipped past his ear. It almost sounded like Welcome, except…. Bellomi swallowed hard. Sevana had said the mountain spoke with the wind, right? Right. So that wasn’t a ghost whispering in his ear. Right. Nothing to be worried about. This was all…well, normal would be pushing it.
He walked uncertainly to the open door and peeked inside. The room beyond was not, as he half-expected, a training room but a kitchen. Relieved, he broke out into a smile.
“My thanks, Big. Um, do you by chance know how to cook?”
Two long counters ran the width and length of the room, with cupboards attached to them. One cabinet opened to display several different loaves of bread. Another cabinet, not attached to the others, opened to show a wheel of cheese and several cured meats. When Bellomi approached, he could feel cool air coming from the inside. A cold storage? As expected from an Artifactor.
Happy, he put his swords down on the table and started foraging.
~ ~ ~
He wasn’t in his bed again?!
Sevana resisted to do the first thing that came to mind—lift her face to the heavens and start screaming—and instead took in a deep breath before asking Big calmly, “Where’s the princeling?”
Up top, the mountain answered, sounding a little cautious.
At least he hadn’t gone far this time. In the past two days, Sevana had caught the prince outside on numerous occasions. The first time, he had ventured around the top of the mountain and to the edge of the woods. Granted, he’d brought two books along with him, so he’d been studying as he was supposed to be doing. But she didn’t want him outside of Big at all!
Growling, cursing, and grumbling, she stomped her way to the stairs and climbed past the second level and through the small door that let out on the top of Big. Big, no doubt sensing her mood, opened the door for her. The night hit her in a rush of insect song, cool air, and a smattering of different scents. She took in a breath of it as she stepped outside, a shiver dancing along her skin. Spring it might be, but the nights here were chilly and she really wished she’d paused to grab a jacket before prince-hunting.
“Bel!”
“Here,” he responded calmly.
She turned her head to look for him, following the sound of his voice, and found him sitting on a boulder to her far left. He’d grabbed a cloak from somewhere, which wrapped around his shoulders and swallowed him from the neck down. His swords lay beside him, within easy reach, although with only two days of training under his belt that didn’t mean much. If something attacked him, he wouldn’t really be able to defend himself.
“You barmy twit, why are you out here in the middle of the night?”
His eyebrows slammed together in a dark frown. “There is no reason for that tone of voice, Sevana. I have followed your directions, haven’t I? You said not to leave Big. I’m sitting directly on him.”
“Oh, that’s a fine loophole you’ve found for yourself,” she snapped back.
“What do you expect me to do?” he retorted, his own temper flaring up. “Simply sit inside of the mountain day in, day out, waiting upon your every direction? I am not a prisoner here, Sevana! You said so yourself.”
“I at least expect you to use some common sense when you leave!” she growled in vexation. “What numbskull goes outside at midnight? Have you not heard of the witching hour?!”
“Of course I read about it! That’s why I came out armed!”
“Armed, he says.” She flung up her hands in exasperation. “For your information, Your Highness, the reason why I said that is because that patch of woods,” she flung a finger to point at it, “is enchanted woods! And most of the mystical creatures that live in it would love to get their grubby little paws on you!”
“Enchanted?” he repeated, blinking. He turned his head to regard the dark woods behind the mountain, head canted slightly as he studied them. “Truly?”
“Yes, truly.” Sevana resisted the urge to grab him around the neck and start squeezing. He didn’t have enough common sense to begin with. Choking off the air supply to his brain would be rather counterproductive. “Bel, let me make this crystal clear. The mystical races are not benign, not for the most part. Half the ones that live in Noppers Woods like children especially. They would either eat you, or carry you off for reasons of their own.”
At the word ‘eat’ his skin went paler, making him look like a waif under the strong moonlight. His eyes darted to the swords at his side and he wet his lips nervously. “And, ah, how effective is steel against these creatures?”
“At your current skill level, you wouldn’t be able to lay a hand on the hilt before they got you,” she informed him bluntly.
He looked at her directly for a long moment, studying her expression, before he dropped his gaze and ran a hand roughly over his face. “My apologies. I…I did not think I would be in any danger simply sitting here.”
Sevana let out a long breath, trying to regain her temper. The prince had little common sense, which made her want to beat it into him, but he did have one saving grace. If you told him not to do something, and explained why, he would see the logic and take your advice. If not for that, she probably would have murdered him by now.
But this whole incident, only one day after she’d scolded him for being out of Big, said something to her. It said trouble. It spoke of an issue that lay deep within the prince’s mind, and it did not seem to be somethin
g that she could simply ignore and allow it to fix itself.
She had limited patience with people to begin with, so likely she would not be the best person for this, but something had to be done. Resigned, she took a wand from her belt holder and cast a warming charm on herself before sinking onto the ground in front of Bel. Crossing her legs, she got comfortable, leaving the wand ready in her lap in case trouble truly did descend on them.
“Bel, you’ve spent ten years locked up in a single room. I can understand that you want to see more of the world.”
He raised his eyebrows at her a little, a little bemused. “That’s quite…reasonable of you, Sevana.”
“But you constantly escaping outside is going to invite trouble,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “You know that.”
His eyes went blind, head turning to face the east, as if he looked toward Lockbright palace. “I can’t stay within the mountain for long. I feel too confined when I do.”
Claustrophobia? After ten years of being in a single room, she could well understand why he would develop that psychological weakness. His condition would be labeled mild, as he could stay indoors for several hours at a stretch without problem, but still strong enough that he couldn’t do so for a full day before he felt driven to go outside. She propped her chin on the palm of her hand, leaning against her own knee, eyes locked onto him.
“Bel. Describe to me what the past ten years were like.”
He didn’t turn back to look at her as he answered in a soft, clear voice. “I don’t need to describe ten years. Only one day. My days were an endless repeat of the same routine. Stay in my room and never being allowed to leave it. A maid came in to clean and bring me my meals. I could request anything of the kitchens and they would make it for me. I could request any book from the palace library and they would send it to me. They gave me any diversion I wanted, as long as it didn’t involve weapons, in order to keep me quietly out of the way. I was not allowed visitors unless a Councilman served as an escort.” He laughed bitterly. “And they only brought sham magicians to me. No one else. For the past ten years, I ate and slept and read and tried not to lose my sanity.”
Sevana listened intently without speaking, mentally tallying up a list as he spoke. So in other words, this poor man-child had no experience with crowds, people, or day-to-day activities. He had extensive knowledge through books but no experience. No wonder she found his common sense lacking. When he finished, she nodded and said softly, “I see.”
The simple recitation of the past decade made a chill go up her spine. His living conditions might have been better than being in a dungeon—it sounded like house arrest to her—but it couldn’t have been better designed to weaken the would-be king. He had absolutely none of the skills that he needed to ascend the throne. A king especially had to be good with crowds of people, with speaking, and have experience in reading others. Sevana would lay good odds that he would be terrible at all of that.
Well, she couldn’t say she was an expert in any of that either. (Mostly due to a complete lack of interest in humanity.) But she knew of a person that was. Kip could charm a snake out of its own skin and the snake would thank him for it. She’d sic Kip on Bel later, but for now, she should address the princeling’s wandering issue.
“Come talk to me in the morning and I’ll give you a charm that should protect you enough to stay near the mountain without trouble. But don’t leave the area. You don’t know of the dangers around you and you don’t have a clue on how to handle a crisis if it does come your way. Besides, if something happens, Big can offer you protection.”
He gave a reluctant nod. “I understand. Then, for now, I’ll retreat to my quarters.”
A week passed in a blur of activity. Bellomi’s days for the past decade had revolved around books and food and sleep—never anything more than that. So to suddenly be handed sword training and studies of a different nature not only felt invigorating but satisfying. He finally had something productive to do instead of just killing time.
The two humans in the cave fell into a sort of routine by the fifth day. Bellomi would get up early in the morning, pick up his swords, and train for two hours or so. (No matter what he had promised himself about five hours, he simply didn’t have the stamina for it. If not for Big showing him the supply cabinet for pain potions, he wouldn’t have been able to lift his arms at all.) Then he would stop for breakfast, which Sevana generally cooked. He didn’t know why it surprised him that she could cook, and quite well. It just did. Probably because she didn’t strike him being particularly domestic, with her poor housekeeping skills.
But over breakfast she would give him his studies for the day—covering topics from economics, history, trade, politics or languages—and then wander off to her workroom with an abstracted look on her face.
Somewhere in the middle of the day, she’d fetch him and run him through more diagnostics, muttering to herself as she took notes. Then she’d shoo him off and he’d either go back to studying or sword practice as the mood struck him.
The evenings were his favorite part of the day. Then Sevana would put her work away for a while and sit down with him and test him on what he had learned that day. If she felt like he didn’t get a concept fully, then she would give him an example of how that idea worked in the real world. He got the strangest insights to how her mind worked through those stories. He also learned far more than when he read it. No matter what she said about being a lousy teacher, she had a knack for explaining things that made the most complicated concept easy to grasp. It was just simple patience in explaining things that she lacked.
Twelve days after being freed from his palace cell, Bellomi rose that morning, washed up quickly, snagged his swords, and headed for the training room. As he walked, he heard a loud thud knockknockknock coming from the front door. Hmmm. It couldn’t be an intruder, right? If it were, Big would have re-routed the tunnels and led them on a merry chase already. So it must be a friend?
“Big, is Sevana going to answer that? Or should I?”
In answer, the tunnel floor slopped slightly to the right, leading Bellomi toward the door. Apparently, he had to answer it.
Knockknock.
Impatient person. Or maybe someone that knew that Sevana probably wouldn’t bother to answer unless they were persistent. Bellomi pulled the door open and looked up. A man he had never seen before stood there. Handsome, well-dressed, his clothes were neat but not expensive and had no frills. If this were any other door, Bellomi would assume him to be a gentleman caller but with Sevana’s personality…well…he had a hard time picturing her flirting or having a beau.
“Hello,” he greeted, putting on a child-like smile of innocence. Might as well play the part of “apprentice.”
“Hello, Your Highness,” the man greeted with a bow.
Bellomi froze, heart beating rapidly in terror. This man knows who I am. On complete instinct, he drew the twin swords strapped at his back and fell into a guard stance. “Who are you?” he demanded.
The other man stepped back in alarm, hands raised in a pleading manner. “Whoa, whoa, I’m not here to cause trouble. I’m a friend of Sev’s.”
His left hand started to feel a little heavy. Whoops, he hadn’t quite gotten the stance right. He shifted it into the proper guard position before asking Big, “Is that true, Big?”
Friend, the mountain sighed.
“Morgan Chansamone,” he offered with an extended hand.
Well, Big knew him and he knew Sevana, so… Bellomi slid both swords home before accepting the handshake, although it felt awkward shaking a hand so much larger than his own. Morgan had a strong grip, too.
“Bellomi Christoff Vogel braun Dragonmanovich. Call me Bel. Sevana does.”
For some reason, this made Morgan smile dryly. “Yes, she likes to give people nicknames. It’s a bad habit of hers. I’m glad to see you here, Bel, and in one piece. Sev tends to be a little rough on people. Or maybe I should say she’s careless with them.
”
An understatement if he ever heard one. “It’s been interesting staying here,” Bellomi admitted. “But fortunately, Big’s better at communicating than a certain Artifactor. Come in, Master Morgan.”
“Just Morgan is fine,” he assured as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “We are, after all, the same age.”
Really? They still had radically different ranks, though. Well, not that Bellomi could really claim his title at this point. He didn’t even want to, considering that it would just get him locked back up again. “Morgan, then. I believe that Sevana is in her workroom if you want to see her.”
“Ah…no, that’s not why I’m here.” Morgan shot a nervous look in the direction of the workroom. That expression said a great deal—he definitely knew Sevana well enough to know that going anywhere near that room put a man’s life in jeopardy. “I actually came to see you. I just wanted to make sure you arrived and were still safe. It’s…ah…challenging living here. I should know, as I’ve stayed here a time or two.”
And the man had survived to tell the tale? That was heartening.
The door to Sevana’s workroom opened. “Is that Kip I hear?”
Kip? Bellomi assumed she meant Morgan, but how on earth could she get the nickname Kip from Morgan?
“Hello,” Morgan greeted. “I just came to see how you were and if the Prince was still alive.”
“We’re fine,” she assured him laconically.
“Well, I also came to update you on a few things.”
“News, is it?” She waved him toward the inner section of the living space. “Let’s get comfortable and talk.”
Agreeable to this, Morgan led the way inside.
As Bellomi followed him, Sevana fell in step and said, “Kippy.”
Bellomi ran that through his head, trying to make sense of it, but gave up after a few moments. “I’m sorry?”
The Child Prince (The Artifactor) Page 4