The Trials of Lance Eliot

by M. L. Brown

  “The Nomen fled. We pursued them, killed many and captured the rest. The survivors were loaded into wagons and taken to the southern border. We made sure they understood they’ll receive no mercy if they ever invade Rovenia again.

  “The Tyrians left a few days ago. Our citizens showed them great kindness. I wish some sort of truce could be made between Rovenia and Tyria, but I’m not hopeful. Senshu was a pious priest compared to the king of Tyria. I’m sure we’ll have more trouble from the north before long.

  “In the meantime, we’ve devoted our efforts to cleaning up the city. General Fox took most of the remaining soldiers to the coast to deal with the pirates, and here we are.”

  “Where is Miles?” I asked. “Is he all right?”

  “He had a nasty gash in one leg. We were worried for a while—the Nomen’s weapons are sometimes poisoned—but he’s recovered. He seems a little more cheerful. I think his time in Ventus did him good.”

  “When can I see him?”

  “Tonight,” said Regis. He took a bell from the table and rang it. An attendant appeared at his elbow within seconds.

  “I would like to host a banquet tonight,” said Regis importantly. “To be held in the private dining room. Invite Miles, Atticus, the children from the orphanage, Petra, Galahad, Abigail, Eben, Tirzah, Cog, Maia, her parents, Jian and everybody I’ve forgotten.”

  “Very good, Your Excellency,” said the attendant, and scuttled away before Regis could sentence him to a week of bread and water.

  Every time I try to recall exactly what happened that night, a jumble of memories comes to my mind: Maia dashing across the room and nearly choking me with her exuberant embrace, Cog showing me designs in his journal for steam-powered trains, Eben shuffling to the table with a cane in either hand and two new prosthetic legs, Jian grinning as Regis tripped over a stool.

  I was especially glad to talk with Miles. “It’s good to see you,” he said as I took a seat beside him. He spoke as though it had been days, not months, since I had last seen him. He looked just the same: strong arms, straw-colored hair, honest face. Only his eyes had changed. Though sadness lingered there, the pain was gone.

  “How are you?” I asked.

  “Very well,” he said in his slow way. “I can’t complain, don’t you know.”

  “I hear you’re quite a hero.”

  He blushed. “I’m no hero. I got my leg cut.”

  “I think you’re a hero. How are your sister and brother-in-law?”

  “Fine, fine. I’m sorry about Tsurugi.”

  “I miss him. Dash it all, how I miss him. You know, Miles, I understand what you meant when you told me words aren’t always necessary. Tsurugi didn’t talk much, but he was there when I needed him, and it was enough.”

  We conversed for a little while. Miles told me how he opened a shop near his sister’s house after we left Ventus. Though he was too grieved to return to his old trade of carpentry, he found solace in carving toys and figurines. Before long he acquired a reputation as a gifted toymaker and was making a comfortable living.

  At last I couldn’t restrain my curiosity any longer and said, “Miles, I have a question for you. You don’t have to answer if you would rather not. It’s about Tsurugi. You went off with him one day—it was the day we reached the Arteria River and you went looking for food—and came back looking peaceful. What happened?”

  “Tsurugi told me about his loss.”

  “What loss?”

  “That’s not my story to tell,” said Miles with a shake of his head. “He went through a lot of pain, Tsurugi did. He helped me through mine.”

  “He helped me too,” I said. “Hang it, I miss him.”

  As the banquet ended, Regis stood and made an announcement. “There will be an assembly in the courtyard of the Temple the day after tomorrow. Before I step down as regent, I’d like to pass out awards to a few deserving individuals.”

  “Step down?” said Eben. “But there is no king to take the throne.”

  Regis shook his head. “A king has been found. My time as regent is almost over.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Maia. “It must be hard to step down so soon after stepping up.”

  “To be honest, I don’t think I’ll miss it. These clothes are horribly uncomfortable, and I’m afraid I’ll lose my sanity if I ever hear the words Your Excellency again.”

  On the day of the assembly, Regis and I walked to the Temple together.

  “It’s not regent-like to go about on foot,” I told him. “A respectable regent should travel in a chariot.”

  “I don’t care how a respectable regent should travel. I feel like walking, and I officially forbid you from telling me how un-regent-like I am.”

  A platform had been erected in the courtyard of the Temple. Hundreds of chairs had been set up for the invited guests, and a considerable amount of standing room was left for the uninvited guests. I suggested we sit down.

  “I’ll tell you what,” said Regis. He wore a pained expression. “I really need a loo. If you’ll save me a seat, I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

  I found two seats in the front row and waited, gazing up at the Temple. I’ve always loved architecture (one reason I chose to live in Oxford) and the Temple was beautiful. It was built of white stone and quartz, with silver inlaid in the sides and gold leaf on the doors. Even the stones underfoot were white.

  The courtyard began to fill with people. Maia took a seat beside me and Atticus sat next to the space reserved for Regis. The time for the start of the assembly arrived, and Regis was nowhere to be seen.

  “Drat him,” I muttered, looking round. “Where is he?”

  A hush descended over the crowd. Kana had climbed onto the platform.

  “People of Valdelaus,” he said. “I thank you for coming. We have gathered to honor the memory of those who fell defending our kingdom, and to celebrate the bravery of those who survived. Not least of all, we have gathered to thank El Enthroned, the World-maker, and his servant Pelea, Guardian of men, for our deliverance. But first, I wish to announce that Regis has been asked to resign as regent of Rovenia.”

  There was a murmur among the crowd.

  “His services have been greatly appreciated,” continued Kana. “However, regency must give way to royalty. A king, the only living child of Victor Bonroi, has been found. Today is the day of his coronation. I bid him come forward.”

  Every head turned. Someone was walking up the aisle between the seats. He wore a purple tunic, a golden chain and a cloak woven with silver. It took me a moment to realize who he was, and another moment to convince myself that I wasn’t dreaming.

  It was Regis.

  He ascended the platform, and I watched in bewilderment as the archpriest of El put a crown on his head and said a prayer. A roar of applause echoed and re-echoed in the courtyard.

  As the noise died away, Regis put his hands in his pockets and began to speak.

  “Thank you all very much. I’m the sort of fellow who dislikes weddings and coronations and ceremonies in general, so I won’t keep you for long. There are people here who are worth honoring. We’ve gathered today to honor them.”

  He began to call names. Valiant soldiers, officers and civilians came onto the platform to receive silver stars and blue ribbons in recognition of their services to the kingdom.

  As the last of these brave people returned to their seats, Regis said, “There is a group of men and women, a noble Resistance, which saved Rovenia. These heroes were the spark that set the fire burning. If they hadn’t made a stand, risking their reputations and their lives, none of us would be alive on this beautiful morning.”

  One by one, the members of the Resistance received gold stars and red ribbons. Atticus, Eben, Tirzah, Abigail, Cog, Petra, Galahad, Jian, General Fox’s nephew (representing his uncle) and my five legionary companions were each honored in turn. A moment was taken to remember the selflessness of Tamu Baba and other late members of the Resistance.

  “Th
ere are four people whom I especially want to honor,” said Regis. “Then you may all go home and have lunch, I promise. The first of these is Miles Siligo.”

  Miles turned red and joined Regis on the platform.

  “I won’t take the time to tell the whole story of our acquaintance,” said Regis. “I’ll just say there’s a great difference between bravery and courage. Bravery is the quality with which a fellow faces a horrible experience that’s quickly over with. Courage is the quality with which a fellow endures a horrible experience that goes on for a long time. Miles is the most courageous man I know, and he’s got a lot of bravery on top of it. He led the army that came to our rescue. We owe him and his companions many lives. I honor him.”

  Miles returned to his seat with a dazed look, clutching the crystal star and purple ribbon Regis had given him.

  “I also want to honor Kana Shoukan. After humbly and obediently doing his duty for twenty years, not receiving a word of thanks, he was wronged by Senshu. Kana chose not to betray Rovenia, though Rovenia had betrayed him. He fled to Faurum and founded the Resistance, saving more lives than we can count. Kana also adopted me and raised me to be a decent chap. Saving Rovenia sounds impressive, but raising me was probably more difficult. He is my father and friend, and I honor him.”

  As Kana returned to his seat, Regis cleared his throat and continued.

  “I mean to be an honest king. There have been enough lies. The full story of the past few months has already been made known to you. Most of you know about Maldos and the Darkness, and most of you know about the man who destroyed them both. Lance Eliot, please come forward.”

  Resigning myself to public embarrassment, I mounted the platform and scowled at Regis.

  “Sorry about this, old boy,” he muttered. “You should have thought twice before being heroic.”

  “Drat you,” I mumbled.

  “This is the man from Terra,” said Regis to the crowd. “Lance Eliot was snatched from his own world and thrust into a kingdom at war. His only link to his own world was broken. He suffered months of sorrow and pain, yet when he had the opportunity to return to Terra, he chose to remain in Gea. He chose to take the fate of Rovenia upon himself. He sacrificed his safety for people he had never met. He sacrificed his safety for you who are gathered here today. I honor him.”

  A crystal star and purple silk ribbon were pressed into my hands, and I stumbled back to my seat.

  “There is one more whom I’d like to honor,” said Regis. “I wish he were here with us, but he fell in the struggle against Maldos. This man saved my life on three—no, it was five—or maybe four—on at least four occasions, maybe more. He gave his comfort, his honor and his life for the sake of people he hardly knew, people who annoyed him, people who didn’t deserve his sacrifice. I honor the memory of Tsurugi Kanben.”

  21

  LANCE ELIOT TRAVELS TO A FAMILIAR PLACE

  REGIS SAID A PRAYER and dismissed the people. Then he came down from the platform and sat in the seat I had kept for him.

  “Thanks for saving my seat,” he said. “I seem to have missed the show.”

  “Why the devil didn’t you tell us you’re royalty?” I demanded, shaking a finger in his face.

  “I didn’t know until a few days ago. If you’re going to blame anybody, you should blame Kana and Atticus. They’re the conspirators.”

  I turned on Kana. “You told me Victor Bonroi’s son was murdered.”

  “I had no choice but to mislead you,” said Kana. “If news of Regis had come to Senshu, he would not have rested until Regis had joined his father in the grave.”

  “But how did Regis end up in the orphanage?”

  “Petra can answer that,” said Atticus.

  Petra crossed her arms. “I don’t like it talked about, but I worked in the Palace when I was a girl. I was a maid till Senshu came to power and locked me up in his harem. I eventually got away with Galahad’s help—he was an assistant to the royal tailor—and married him. We opened our shop and started taking in women who had nowhere else to go.

  “Anyway, the news came to me while I was still a maid that the king was dead and Senshu was his replacement. I knew Regis would be killed, so I smuggled him out of the Palace with the laundry and took him to Atticus. He lived at the orphanage till Kana adopted him.”

  “I believed Regis was dead,” said Kana. “It was a shock when I met a boy in the street who was the living image of Victor Bonroi. My suspicions were confirmed when I spoke with Atticus. The boy was the crown prince. I realized it was my responsibility to raise him, that he might be restored to the throne when Senshu had received his due judgment.”

  “Everything was going splendidly,” said Regis. “Then I ran away. That rather complicated things.”

  “That’s in the past,” said Atticus. “You’re back, my boy, and that’s what matters. But forgive me, Your Majesty. I have no right to call the king of Rovenia my boy in that disrespectful fashion.”

  “I hereby issue a royal decree,” said Regis. “The next person to call me Your Majesty shall be given twenty smacks by the royal executioner.”

  As we left the Temple courtyard, I put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Regis, I’ve got a favor to ask.”

  A week later, I rose from my bed an hour before dawn and walked to the park. The streets were still and the pavement cool beneath my feet. By the time I reached the park, the sky had turned from black to purple. A few stars still glimmered far above me, and a faint orange glow on the horizon showed the sun was about to rise.

  I meandered through the trees until I came to the little meadow where Tsurugi and I had stood on a cold winter night long before. The grass was sprinkled with white clover blossoms. I could hear the river murmuring beyond the trees and birds starting to sing.

  Three marble slabs rose from the grass like tombstones. A name was engraved on each. The first was dedicated to the memory of Tamu; the second to the memory of Aidan; the third to the memory of Tsurugi. Regis had ordered these memorials built at my request.

  I had brought a basket with me. Putting it down, I withdrew a kettle of blackroot and set it in the grass before Tamu’s memorial.

  “I think you would have preferred blackroot to flowers,” I said. “Thank you for your kindness. Rest in peace, my friend.”

  I took two rods from the basket, assembled them into my staff and laid it in front of Aidan’s memorial.

  “I know you wouldn’t have wanted flowers. Thanks for your patience. I’m not grateful for the bruises, but you taught me to endure pain, and that proved terribly useful. Rest in peace.”

  I didn’t have anything to put before Tsurugi’s memorial. He had never wanted to accept anything from me when he was alive. What could I offer him now that he was dead? I stood in front of his memorial for a long time before I could get myself to speak.

  “You were Virgil, Tsurugi. You led me through hell. Thank you. I won’t give up.”

  It wasn’t much of a speech, but it was all I could manage. I didn’t think I could speak another word without crying. The sky grew brighter. The stars dissolved in the glow of sunrise, and still I stood looking at the name carved into the marble. I was about to turn away when something drifted from the sky onto the grass in front of the memorial.

  A red feather.

  I stared at it for a moment. It lay against the grass, fiery red and gold against deep green. The feather seemed like a far better offering to Tsurugi’s memory than anything I could give. I didn’t disturb it. As the sun began to shine, I retrieved the basket and returned to the Palace.

  Regis was waiting for me in the courtyard. “There you are, old boy. Are you ready to go?”

  “I think so,” I said, checking my pockets. “I’ve got my crystal star and silk ribbon, a copy of the Book of El, a textbook of Rovenian history, a map of Rovenia and that wooden figurine Miles carved for me.”

  “Quite a set of souvenirs,” said the king. “I think your clothes are rather odd.”

 
“They’re the closest things I could find to clothes from my world. I think it would cause quite a stir if I reappeared in Oxford dressed in the Rovenian fashion.”

  “I hope you enjoyed your last days in Gea.”

  I had decided to spend a final week in Valdelaus. As much as I wanted to go home, I wanted closure, a sense of finality to my absurd adventure.

  Those were pleasant, peaceful days. Cog and I shared many discussions, during which I saw many inventions take shape in his dog-eared journal. Regis and I played a few friendly games of dealings, all of which he won. Atticus, Kana and I discussed our adventures over cups of tea.

  Maia and I went for several walks and visited a number of bakeries. How many pastries we ate and cups of chocolate we drank during my final week in Gea, I cannot say—probably enough chocolate to float a small boat, and enough pastries to sink one.

  Maia wore a black ribbon in her hair in memory of her brother Alexander, and there were times when sadness overtook her and made her smile fade. I learned to be silent when these moments of melancholy came over Maia. They never lasted long. She was the sort of person whose good spirits could never be extinguished for long.

  On the day before my visit to the memorials in the park, we enjoyed a final stroll along the river.

  “I hope you don’t forget about us,” she said as we passed into an avenue of oak trees.

  “Of course I shan’t forget about you. I know it sounds odd, but I’m glad you summoned me instead of Lancelot. He would have been much more useful, but he wouldn’t have learned nearly as much as I have.”

  “You were a better hero than he could ever have been. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for putting you through so much pain. Even so, I’m thankful you turned up instead of Lancelot. My mistake wasn’t a mistake after all.”

  “Well, I’m happy someone thinks so.”

  “There’s something on your mind, isn’t there? Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I’ve made so many deuced mistakes, Maia. You’ve no idea. I’m hailed as a great hero and whatnot, but it’s all a farce. Tsurugi and Kana and the others are the great heroes. They did everything right. I did everything wrong.”