by Guy Antibes
“I couldn’t desert Siggon. In the end, I know I made the right decision.”
Paki nodded. “Let’s have something to eat. Suddenly, I’m hungry.”
The two of them avoided any serious talk for most of the meal that they shared.
“So what are you going to do?” Pol said.
“I’m still a gardener’s apprentice.”
“I’ll talk to Father and see if we can’t get you into the scouts a bit early.”
Paki brightened. “You think he’d do that?”
“I can ask.” Pol managed a smile. “It’s the least I can do.” Pol looked at his spoon. “No, it’s not. Siggon died in my service. I’ll ask for a pension for your mother as well.”
Paki left, and at least Pol had one problem less to worry him. He drifted off on the couch.
A hand shook him awake. Pol looked up into Malden’s eyes.
“Keep your door locked.”
“I didn’t feel like it,” Pol said. “Did you hear about Siggon?”
The magician nodded his head. “Ranno is hot on the trail. Unfortunately, I don’t think anything will come of it. Even if Prince Grostin is responsible, which he probably is, your father will only slap his hand.”
“That’s what I told Ranno. Will the Emperor help?”
Malden pressed his lips together. That meant no.
“Hazett is known for not meddling in the internal affairs of a country unless it impacts the Empire. If King Colvin lets Grostin go free, then he goes free. At least as long as he stays in North Salvan. As for you, stay in your rooms. I’d like to keep you company, but I’m running around helping to get the magician testing going outside of Borstall. The testing starts the day after tomorrow.”
“I can’t expect anything else.” Pol didn’t feel like going out anyway. “I’ll be at the dinner tomorrow night. Until then I think I’ll rest. I ran out of energy today.”
“I’m sure you did.”
~
Pol didn’t do much the next day. He wandered down to the kitchens for breakfast and found Paki’s mother hard at work.
“I am sorry for your loss,” Pol said.
“We all are. It’s a horrible thing what someone did to my man. Paki’s not my only little one. I have others to keep me company and help around the house,” she said. Pol could see a pattern of pain and justification. “I knows you were with him in the end and I appreciate he didn’t die alone.” She gave Pol a hug, which surprised Pol, but he stood there and took it. If his being by her side gave Siggon’s widow comfort, Pol would endure the embarrassment.
“I can’t say I’m glad, but I wouldn’t have it another way. I would have felt worse, having him die up in the loft.”
She sniffed and waved Pol away. She turned and cried away from his sight.
Pol grabbed some food and took it up to his rooms. He locked the door and looked out the window. In the far distance, he could make out flags fluttering over the tourney and the festival fairgrounds. Others wouldn’t feel Siggon’s loss, but Pol did. He didn’t want to walk around all that activity, thinking of how Siggon had died.
After lunch Ranno showed up. “We found the pea shooter, but he won’t talk. That man is very shrewd, and is, as it turns out, from South Salvan. I’m not about to employ any aggressive questioning techniques in your father’s kingdom, but here is what hit you.” He put out his hand. The little ball of metal had rough edges. “Bound to hurt.”
“It did,” Pol said. “What will you do with him?”
“I took him to Kelso Beastwell and Banson Hisswood. Showed them the shooter and his tiny weapons, which they confiscated along with the blowpipe we found on him. There was only one witness and not enough proof to do anything other than hold him in a cell overnight. That shooter is a dangerous man. He knows how to keep his mouth shut and refuse to talk.”
“That means one of my siblings must have hired him.”
Ranno nodded. “I think Grostin is the most likely since he benefitted. I was glad to learn that his opponent schooled your brother rather well in his championship match. If his opponent got ‘stung’, it didn’t work. Landon fared much the same. He hasn’t made it into the finals in any event. He talked his father into letting him fight in the melee, and if he does win, that will mean, in my opinion of fighters, that he paid off all his opponents. I’ve notified Hazett of that possibility. He will know if that happens and will mention any cheating to King Colvin.”
Pol sat down and offered Ranno to do the same, but he remained standing. “No progress on Siggon’s attackers?”
“There weren’t any witnesses in the stable, if that’s what you meant. I talked to the stable master, and he claims he was asleep when Siggon must have been beaten. Paki and you must have woken him up when you tore the place apart trying to find him. I’m sorry.”
“It’s frustrating that they got away with a murder.”
“A lot of murders and assaults occur where the perpetrators are not caught. It’s a matter of finding the evidence. I’m sorry, lad.”
Pol didn’t expect Ranno to find any evidence, and he was very impressed that Ranno found the peashooter. If Ranno acted as the Emperor’s Instrument and took the time to help a fourteen-year-old prince, Pol couldn’t be more appreciative. “Thank you.”
“There is a big dinner tonight. Are you going?”
Pol nodded.
“Sit with us. We will protect you.”
“Us?”
“Malden, Far, and me. Hazett knows that’s what we will do.”
Pol considered. “If it’s acceptable to the Emperor.”
“It is.”
Pol saw Ranno out and sent a servant with a request for an audience with his father. He received a note to talk to him right after the dinner.
~
Pol looked out at the sea of people in the great hall. He spotted Malden, who stood with Ranno, and made his way through all of the long tables.
“How are you?” Mistress Farthia said.
“I’m better in every way, but that doesn’t mean I’m good.” Pol said. “I still feel bad about Siggon.”
“You will for a long time,” Malden said. “He was a good man.”
Pol couldn’t say anything else. He looked around the room and found that they were seated higher than most in the room. Ranno sat closest to the dais table, and he sat Pol down next to him. Malden sat at his right.
“Are your seated here because of me?”
She nodded. “Father should be up there.” Mistress Farthia pointed to the dais table with her chin. “He outranks everyone here but the two kings and Hazett.”
That surprised Pol. He knew Ranno was an advisor, but he didn’t think that he was a noble. Pol looked up at the dais. None of his siblings had been seated at that table. That might have upset Landon, at least.
His siblings were on the other side of the room, still close to the dais table. That was just as well. He looked closer, and both Grostin and Landon had bruise marks on their faces. Landon had been mauled during the melee. Pol smiled. Served them right.
King Colvin introduced the Emperor. Hazett announced the winners of the various events, who met with polite applause. Pol wondered if his father was disappointed at the results.
“I would like to point out that the fourteen-year-old event yesterday was marred by tragedy. A squire, Siggon Hostel, was viciously attacked and later died from his injuries. Prince Poldon withdrew from the finals to be by his side at your castle infirmary when Hostel expired. I think that act of grace deserves some applause. Stand, Prince.”
Pol turned red and stood with the help of Ranno and waved to the diners. Luckily, the applause didn’t last very long. Pol looked over at Grostin, who looked angry. Let him look angry, Pol thought. His brother was responsible for Siggon’s death.
The Emperor thanked King Colvin and the citizens of Borstall for their hospitality, and then he announced the magician testing. Some of the crowd didn’t know about it, so the noise level in the room incr
eased for a moment until the Emperor raised his hand.
“We have already started testing in the surrounding towns and villages and will continue tomorrow. All those who were not tested when the last evaluations were conducted over a decade ago are commanded to attend. That means everyone, including castle staff and the nobles here. It is one of the few duties to the Empire that I take to my states. I am sure you will all comply. Now, let us eat!” He raised his hands, signaling the commencement of the meal.
Servants filed through the hall. The dais table was served first, and then the sound level increased once their food had been served.
“I can’t get out of the testing, can I?” Pol asked Malden.
“Would you defy your Emperor?” Ranno said. “Malden will be conducting the testing for those residing in the castle. That will include your friend Paki.”
“And Grostin, Landon, Amonna, and Honna?”
“It will,” Malden said. “I’ve already determined your siblings have no talent, but that will be formalized tomorrow.”
“What if I don’t show up?” Pol said.
“You’ve already been tested by me, so I’ll merely write in the results.”
Pol put his fork on the plate and sat back. “I’m doomed.”
“You have been for quite some time,” Ranno said. “I say make the best of it.”
That was easy for Farthia’s father to say. After considering Ranno’s words, Pol wondered what that might be. He couldn’t see any worthwhile path.
The dinner was a tasteless affair. Pol merely went through the motions of eating. He felt incapable of enjoying the food that he put in his mouth. He felt bad for his past and bad for his future. Magic wouldn’t be an escape for him. It only meant higher expectations, not from his father, but from Emperor Hazett III. The thought that the Emperor might want Pol as his creature, scared Pol nearly as much as his siblings.
The Emperor yawned. It looked affected to Pol, and then Hazett rose. “We begin in the morning. I must be on my way in two days.” He raised his hands and all dutifully clapped.
“I will see you tomorrow,” Ranno said, who got to his feet and followed the Emperor out.
The night wasn’t particularly late, but his father left soon after. He walked past Pol.
“See me in my study as soon as you can. I have other meetings tonight,” the King said rather brusquely.
~~~
Chapter Nineteen
~
POL NODDED AND EXITED THE DINNER within moments. He made his way to his father’s study. Two guards flanked the doors when Pol knocked.
“Come in, Poldon.”
He walked in. Pol didn’t get many chances to meet with his father in this room. His last visit took place months ago, and even then he was with his mother. Pol bowed.
King Colvin waved his bow off and pointed to a chair. “Sit and tell me what you want. I assume this isn’t just a visit.”
Pol shook his head, suddenly afraid. He looked around the room to memorize it. His skill in detecting patterns had grown in the past weeks, and with it came the ability to remember much of what he observed.
“Out with it. Stop ogling.”
Pol cleared his throat. He had to petition his father for a pension for Siggon’s family. He looked out the window and then down at the rug until he heard his father tapping his finger on the desk. “I, uh, feel responsible for Siggon Horstel’s death. I came to ask a boon. Could you provide his family with a decent pension? Siggon died helping me, and if he hadn’t been my squire yesterday morning, he would be alive today.”
“You want nothing? I thought you wanted some recognition for yourself.”
Pol shook his head. “Nothing for me. I have everything I need.” Except peace and quiet, he thought. Pol wished he could tell the king to tell his siblings to stop their evil deeds, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to muster the courage. His father wouldn’t lift a finger to stop them, anyway.
“Who do you think did it? I have talked to Ranno Wissingbel. He thinks it was Grostin,” his father said. From the tone in his voice, he didn’t believe what Ranno told him.
“Ranno doesn’t have any proof other than the fact that there really was a pea shooter that distracted me in my match with Grostin, and the same person shot at Paki, uh, Pakkingail Horstel.”
King Colvin nodded. “A similar mark was on the boy who thoroughly defeated Grostin in the championship match for his age group, but there were no witnesses, so my hands are tied. Ranno couldn’t find any evidence at the stable, either.”
Pol doubted if they were really tied, but Pol couldn’t change the past, only the future. “I don’t ask for myself.”
King Colvin nodded. “I know. Your heart is in the right place, and in this case, I think your head is as well. I will provide a pension to Siggon’s widow. Siggon’s current pay for as long as she lives in North Salvan. Will that be acceptable?”
“Fully acceptable, Father. I will leave now.”
“Not so fast, Poldon. Ranno told me something else. He says that you will pass the magician test tomorrow. Is that correct?”
Pol wanted so much to lie to his father, but he couldn’t. He knew he blushed, and his father would know he’d been caught out.
“I will, Father. Malden found out that I had talent not long after my poisoning. He has taught me a few things, so I know I will pass.”
“But you are only fourteen. Magical ability doesn’t usually manifest itself for two or three more years.”
“The test will reveal magical talent at my age.”
His father made a face. “I know that, but you can actually do magic? Show me.”
Pol looked at his father’s neat desk. A thin volume, perhaps a diary sat on his left. He concentrated focusing on the little book and moved it from one side of the desk to the other. His father moved his chair back and looked at the book in its new location.
“I didn’t really believe one of my children would have talent.” Pol’s father looked intently at Pol. “You look a little pale. Does magic sap you of your strength?”
Pol nodded. “I haven’t practiced very much with the tourney coming up. I had to save my strength for my matches.”
His father looked at him as if he had seen Pol for the first time. “I still want you showing up for the testing. Don’t be alarmed if I show surprise. Your having magic only complicates your life, you know.”
“I understand, Father.”
The king nodded. “I think you really do. Rest up for tomorrow.”
Pol rose from his seat. He was surprised that his little trick didn’t take more out of him. Perhaps his full stomach helped.
“One more thing. My petition about Landon taking the throne of Listya was not granted. Our Emperor wants to think more on it. Make of that what you will.”
So that was why his father was in such a foul mood. At least he granted Pol’s wish. He left his father’s study more confused and more afraid than when he had walked in. At least Paki and his family wouldn’t suffer financially from the loss of Siggon, but his father now knew he could perform magic. He didn’t know how that would make a difference in the long term, since he would be found out tomorrow when tested publicly.
The rejection of the petition really worried Pol. If the Emperor delayed making a decision because of Pol, that would put him in greater jeopardy. His mind roiled on his walk back to his rooms. When he opened the door, the room was dark.
The servants should have arrived to start a small fire and light the lamps. Pol stood in the doorway and located two bodies in his room. He had no weapon available to him, so he was about to turn and call for the guards, when someone pushed him into the room from behind. Pol hadn’t even tried to sense the corridor.
He stumbled into the darkness and tried to roll underneath the couch, but a hand caught his foot. Pol struggled, but his assailants seemed to be full grown men. He yelled for help, but as soon as the first sound came out of his mouth someone wrapped a gag around his face.
Pol felt the punches and the kicks. Something hit his upper arm, and he heard, as well as felt, it crack.
“That should be enough to keep him out of testing,” a voice said. Pol didn’t recognize it, but he would remember it if he heard the voice again.
“Time to go,” another voice said. That was Landon. Pol was sure of it. He hurt so badly that he couldn’t summon any magical force. Shortly after he was pushed into his rooms, Pol lay in a great deal of pain, likely bleeding on the carpet.
After a few moments of agony, Pol began to scream for help. He saw a few embers showing in the fireplace. That was enough to let Pol know where he was in the sitting room. He couldn’t get up from where he lay, but he struggled to inch his way forward. He didn’t know how many bruises shouted at him with pain, but he eventually slid up the wall, and with his good hand, he pulled the rope as many times as he could before collapsing to the floor.
Pol had no idea how long he hurt, but eventually a few servants and guards opened the door. They lit lamps and from the looks on their faces, Pol must have been a mess. He thought of Siggon and the man’s internal injuries that bled inside until he died. He didn’t feel so bad inside, but his arm was a source of excruciating pain.
When they moved him, the pain in his arm overcame everything else.
~
Pol had seen the ceiling twice before, but he could barely open his eyes. He woke up in the infirmary, and Malden sat at his side. Pol tried to talk, but he could only mumble.
“Don’t try to talk. Your face is swollen. Your own mother didn’t recognize you.”
“Time?” Pol managed to say.
“Oh, it’s early in the morning. I hope you don’t mind me using magic on your arm. It will continue to hurt for a week or so. Your arm was broken in two places, full breaks, not cracked like your ribs. The rest of your injuries are bruises and contusions, especially on your face. The healers had to stitch along the side of your forehead. You’ll likely have a dashing scar to wow the ladies.”
That was the last thing that interested Pol.
“Landon.”
Malden put his finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone who your assailants were. Ranno is collecting evidence, and there was some in your room. You’ll put yourself at even more risk if you point out anyone who was there.”