Knight Of The Flame

by H John Spriggs

  "You feel like we just fell into a different world or something?" said Rill, his eyes making wide sweeps of the Guard District. Caymus only then realized that the two of them had stopped in the middle of the street, irritating a few impatient pedestrians.

  He smiled as he grabbed Rill's sleeve and dragged him to the side of the avenue. "I wonder what the Reed District looks like," he said, once the two were standing safely out of traffic.

  Rill reached up and clapped him on the shoulder. "That's the one they gave to Shorevale, right? Gotta be full of ships and pirates, don't ya think?"

  Caymus grinned at his friend. "Something like that."

  A few dozen yards into the Guard, Caymus could see a large square where several roads met and formed a circle around a large fountain. Caymus pulled Rill over to it, wanting a better look. A low, circular wall, with a few pipes jutting out from the edges, enclosed a smooth floor of fancy brickwork, but the whole thing was bone dry.

  Atop a small pedestal, in the middle of the dry fountain, was the statue of a man. The smooth, gray surface had subtle veins of pink running through it, here and there, making Caymus think it was carved from some species of marble. The depicted figure wore what looked to be fine clothing: calf-high boots rose up over ballooning pants that were tied off with a wide belt. A loose-fitting coat appeared caught by some non-existent breeze. The man, whose wavy hair fell to his shoulders, was holding one of the coat's lapels with one hand as he appeared to gaze off in to the distance.

  Upon the pedestal was carved the name “Faivun”. Caymus felt a small smile at play on his face. While Matron Y’selle had been going through packs and crates, looking for Sannet’s package, she had given Caymus a short history lesson, which had included this man.

  Kepren had started as a small keep, out here in the Tebrian plains, hundreds—if not thousands—of years ago. Long before the advent of the districts and the duchies, Kepren had stood by itself as a city-state which, while laying claim too much of the land around it, had held very little political power.

  It had been the many wars with Mael’vek, their aggressive neighbor to the South, which had forced change. During one of those wars, the Mael’vekians had thought to conquer Kepren through attrition, not only sending troops directly at them from the South, but also launching a small armada of ships up the western coast, delivering troops that would cut off trade at the mouth of the Silvertooth River, forcing the Keprenites to either open their gates or starve.

  The beginnings of what would eventually become the Tebrian League were forged from that conflict, starting with an accord with the seaside city of Shorevale. Up to that point, Shorevale had generally kept to its own affairs. The people were great seafarers and traders, but they preferred not to meddle in the political affairs of others, and their sizable navy had generally prevented others from meddling in theirs. However, once they'd been convinced that, should Kepren fall, the Mael'vekians would come after them next, Shorevale had brought hundreds of ships to bear against the Mael'vekian blockade, keeping the trade routes open so that the people of Kepren could continue their city's defense.

  In the end, the war had been won, and a powerful alliance had been forged. To honor the tremendous assistance given during the war, fully half of Kepren, most of which lay along the banks of the Silvertooth River, had been given to the people of Shorevale to rule over. Caymus had balked at the thought, but Y'selle had explained that many Shorevalians had already been living and working in that part of Kepren at the time, so the sacrifice wasn't nearly as great as it sounded.

  In the following centuries, the wars between Mael'vek and Kepren had continued, erupting every few decades and lasting at least a handful of years. It seemed that every generation of Keprenites had a war with their southern neighbor to call their own. In the last century, Mael’vek had launched an attack, which had succeeded in expanding its borders, swallowing and nearly completely destroying the city of Laivus, which had lain between the two warring nations. The Laivusians, as Caymus had already learned from Gwenna, had fled north in droves, seeking sanctuary within Kepren's walls. Kepren's forces had eventually halted their foe’s march northward, but, by then, the damage had been done. Laivus had been razed, and so the refugees began to simply rebuild outside the walls of their new home.

  It was during that conflict that the kings of Kepren and Shorevale, as well as those leaders that had remained of Laivus's government, had been called to a meeting by the man this statue was placed for, a merchant politician named Faivun. The meeting, held on the deck of a ship anchored in the Silvertooth, was now known as Faivun’s Council, and the direct consequences of it were that the Keprenite and Shorevalian areas of the city were officially divided into the Guard and Reed Districts, respectively. In addition, the Laivusians were given their own district: the walls of Kepren were built out to encompass several square miles of grassland, giving the refugees land to build on that was protected by citizens of both Kepren and Shorevale. The area had been called the Laivus Section, originally, but it had eventually come to be called the Grass District.

  Each of the three districts was ruled by a duke, with the king himself representing the city as a whole. Each faction brought something important to the union: the Guard District provided the knowledge and resources of Kepren's standing army, with centuries of experience in repelling Mael'vekian attacks; the Reed District was home to no small amount of the Shorevalian navy; the Grass District brought with it ingenuity in engineering and craftsmanship, as the Laivusians were renowned artisans, evidenced by the way they put their buildings together without the need for mortar.

  The three peoples, coming together as a single city, created not only a new vision of Kepren, but also the greater idea of Tebria. Caymus had marveled at the concept. He'd never really understood whether Tebria—or it's other name, the Tebrian League—was an actual nation or just a region on a map. In truth it was neither, but rather it was an understanding between three cultures that should one come under attack, the others would spring to its defense. There were no borders to the Tebrian League: they weren't needed. If a Shorevalian village needed aid, the aid would be provided, no matter if the village lay a yard from Kepren's outer wall or several miles north of the Greatstone Mountains.

  Most of Tebria's duties still consisted of fighting back the advances of Mael'vek every few dozen years, but the combined force also repelled pirates from the coast, built structures for new settlements, and generally kept the peace in the region.

  Caymus wondered what kind of man Faivun had really been, what kind of personality it had taken to weave three cities into one, to convince the King of Kepren that giving up two thirds of his city was to his own benefit. He idly scratched the back of his hand and wondered if he could ever be that kind of man.

  “Hey!” Caymus turned to see that Rill, now several strides ahead, had just realized that he wasn't following. “Are you coming?”

  Caymus waved his friend over and motioned to the statue with his chin. “Do you know much about him?”

  Rill shrugged. “Just the usual stuff, that he’s why Kepren’s split up the way it is.”

  Caymus shook his head in wonder. “Where did he come from? Do you know?”

  Rill furrowed his brow at Caymus. “Come from?”

  “Yeah, was he from Kepren originally, or Shorevale?”

  Rill looked up at the statue. “I think he was from Laivus; he ran north with all the rest of them.”

  “Really?” Caymus’s eyes went wide.

  Rill looked at him again, suspicion on his face. “Yeah, why?” he said.

  Caymus took a moment, trying to put words to what he was thinking. “He came from a place that had just been destroyed,” he said, “and he convinced the king of another land to give up an awful lot of his city." He shook his head in disbelief. "How did he do that?”

  Rill tilted his head and looked at nothing in particular, considering it. “Well, the king still has the final say about anything that happens in Kepr
en, so he didn’t technically lose any power.” He gave a small wince. “Or, at least, he used to have the final say.”

  Caymus finally took his eyes off the statue. “Used to?”

  Rill nodded. “I heard some of the kids chattering back at the mission. It seems the king isn’t doing very well lately. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but he’s been sick for a long time.”

  Caymus thought about the idea of a monarch not being able to govern his own realm. It didn’t sit well with him. “So, if he’s too sick to make decisions, how does anything get done?”

  “The prince,” Rill said. “His son, Prince Garrin. He’s been in charge of the Kepren army for a good while, and I guess he'll be needing to make decisions about governing the city now, too.”

  “Don’t the dukes have a problem with that?”

  "What, you mean with someone other than the king having the power to overrule them?"

  Caymus nodded.

  Rill shrugged. “Who can understand the way royalty thinks?”

  They stood there a moment longer. Caymus looked up at the statue, considered the strangeness of this place. Rill waited impatiently for Caymus to be done looking.

  Finally, Rill tapped Caymus on the shoulder and indicated their next turn. “You ready?”

  Caymus smiled and nodded. “Of course. Sorry.”

  As they walked down the streets of the Guard, dodging the occasional horse or other pedestrian, Rill changed the subject. “Boy, did you see Gwenna with that Tavrin fellow?”

  Caymus was caught off-guard by the question. He wasn’t sure if he was angry or just upset by it. He tried to keep the dark tone out of his voice, but wasn’t entirely successful. “I did.”

  Rill gave Caymus his most supportive look. “Don’t worry about it, Caymus. I’m sure he’s just a fancy distraction. She’ll have forgotten all about him in a day or two.”

  Caymus wasn’t sure about that. She'd never looked at him like that. “Do you know who he is? Was he here before Gwenna left and so they already knew each other?”

  Rill shook his head. “Just got here a couple of weeks ago, the matron said, which would have meant Gwenna, Bridget and Y'selle would have already been on their way north. I think he came to see those other two, the ones we left at the Temple, but he didn’t know they’d left already.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know why he's still here.”

  Caymus frowned. “Great.”

  Rill elbowed him, gently, in the ribs. “Don’t worry about it," he said again. "I'm sure she'll come around in the end.”

  Caymus had been keeping his eyes open for a particular sign among those hanging outside the buildings to the left and right. Among the various representations, including an anvil, a candle, and an angry-looking chicken, he noticed a picture of a pig, divided into front and back halves. “I think we’re here,” he said, pointing up at it.

  Rill followed his arm and grinned. “I think you’re right! You’ve got the thing, yeah?”

  Caymus reached around to a pouch on his belt and withdrew the box Sannet had given him. “I've got it.”

  The two of them opened the door to the butcher’s shop, and walked inside. Caymus was immediately met by the smells of stale blood and carved flesh. He took a deep breath of the stuff, surprised that he didn't find it unpleasant.

  The interior of the place was larger than he'd expected. Along the walls, to the left and the right, a half-dozen square tables stood with simple, wooden chairs about them. All were empty, though he could tell from the dirty glasses and plates, here and there, that they had been used recently.

  Along the back wall was a plain, but sturdy-looking, wooden counter, anchored to the left wall and extending almost all the way to the right. Several cuts of meat, some sitting by themselves, others stacked half a dozen or so high, sat upon the counter while a thin man with graying hair worked at cleaning up. As the boys walked in, the man looked up with a smile. His head was thick with hair that had obviously been changing from brown to gray for a few years while a full, though neatly-trimmed, beard followed suit. He peered at them over a pair of spectacles whose rims were just a little bit thinner than his waist seemed to be.

  The man wiped a knife on his apron and smiled politely to the boys. “How can I help you young gentlemen today?” he said. He waved a hand to indicate the counter. “I was just starting to close up, but I have a few cuts left that need to go out my door soon, so I can give you a good price on them. Mmm?”

  Caymus felt a little guilty. He felt an immediate fondness for the man's gentle manner, and he felt a bit duplicitous, coming in without intending to make a purchase. “Sorry,” he said, affecting a wince, “we’re not here to buy anything. Are you Mister Teldaar?”

  The man almost took a step back, then he raised an eyebrow with what could have been either suspicion or mock-suspicion; Caymus didn't know the eyebrow's owner well enough to tell which. “Hmmm,” he said, folding the hand with the knife under the arm of the other hand, which tickled at his beard. He looked over each of them, in turn. “Well, you both seem a bit young to be collecting for the banker.” He wagged a finger at them, thoughtfully, “but I suppose you could be looking for something else from me, eh?” He pondered at them a moment longer, then put the knife down and placed his hands on his hips. “Alright, let’s say that I tell you I am Mister Teldaar. What would you say to that?”

  Caymus exchanged a glance with Rill, who seemed to be liking this game. Caymus put a hand to his chest. “I’d say that I’m Caymus,” he said, “and this is Rill. We just arrived from the Temple up north. We’re friends of Sannet?”

  The man’s entire demeanor changed instantly. His eyes widened until their whites were showing, and a grin appeared on his face that easily erased ten years from him. “Friends of Sannet!” he said, wiping his hands and quickly stepping to the end of the counter. “Why didn’t you say so?” As he made his way to their side of the cutting board, he yelled over his shoulder to a partially open door that Caymus hadn’t noticed before. “Maggie, make some tea will you? Sannet has sent us some guests!” When he reached the two of them, he took each of their hands earnestly in both of his. “You will stay awhile, yes, have some tea?”

  Caymus nodded, returning the man’s smile. “Yes, sir, thank you.”

  The man waved a hand dismissively and moved to the front door, where he threw the latch. “Please, please, I am Franklin, and my wife is Margaret. I’ll have none of this ‘sir’ business with friends of my son.” He led them around the counter and toward the door that stood in the wall behind it. “Come, you can sit down with us and tell us about how Sannet is doing.”

  When they passed through the doorway, Caymus was a bit surprised at the complete change in décor. The public, front room was sparse, with bare, only lightly-varnished wooden furniture and not a single piece of ornamentation or decoration on the walls. Beyond the door, however, they entered a hallway adorned with wooden paneling that was dark and rich, on which hung small paintings of flowers and landscapes.

  After a moment, Franklin had turned them to the left and into a big kitchen with two stoves and a large cutting board in the center. Off to one side of the room stood a cozy dining table with four chairs arrayed around it. The kitchen opened up, further on, into what seemed to be a comfortable-looking sitting room, with padded chairs and a large fireplace. A set of stairs stood at the far end, leading up to a second floor.

  At the nearest of the two stoves stood a woman who was easily as wiry as Franklin, but whose long hair, tied in a long ponytail, was only just beginning to go gray. She wore spectacles too, and she looked up at them with what seemed a mixture of curiosity and delight as she finished lighting a small fire under the kettle. “Hello,” she said. “Has my husband offered you anything to eat?”

  Caymus was a little bit hungry, but things were moving just a little too quickly for him. Rill spoke up. “We’re not hungry ma’am,” he said, “but thank you.”

  “Bah!” she said, assisting her hu
sband in leading them to the dining table, “who is this 'ma’am'?”

  Franklin laughed. “I told you,” he said, wagging a finger at them. “I am Franklin, and this is Margaret.” He turned to his wife, “My wife, these are Caymus and Rill and they tell me they just came from the Temple.”

  Margaret’s eyes widened a little. “You only just arrived in Kepren and you come to see us first?” she said. “You must be very good friends of our son, indeed.”

  “They won’t miss us at the mission for awhile,” said Rill, “and, to be honest, it gave us a chance to see the city a little bit.”

  “Plus,” said Caymus, placing the little box he’d been holding all this time on the table, “Sannet asked me to give you this when we got here, and I thought the sooner, the better.”

  As Caymus slid the box to them, the couple each put a hand to it, tentatively, as though it might bite them, and gave each other a look that Caymus couldn’t quite read. It was the kind of look he’d seen his father and mother give each other a handful of times, usually when he’d done something either very right or very wrong. Caymus had always suspected that they'd been exchanging hundreds of words with those looks, and he'd wondered if it was something that only married people could do.

  Sannet’s father was the first to turn back, his hand still gingerly touching the box. “How is Sannet, then? Is he well?”

  Caymus nodded. “He’s very well. He’s probably the best disciple there.”

  “I’ll say,” said Rill. “Between the two of you, it’s nearly impossible for anyone else to compete.”

  Both parents smiled. “So,” said Margaret, “he is doing well in the,” she paused a moment, trying to remember, “the Second Circle, yes?”

  “Third, actually,” Caymus said. “He took his trial just a short time ago.”