The procession through the city was only part of the opening ceremonies, but it was the only portion the general populace would be able to enjoy. The remainder of the festivities was by invitation only, consisting mainly of a series of long, boring speeches designed solely to remind the nobles of just how important they all were.
Aldrick had received an invitation from Brodan for those later ceremonies, but he had no intention of attending. The entire affair would be nothing but politics and pompous posturing, all of which Aldrick despised. The parade would be entertaining, but it would take a team of plow horses to drag him to the later ceremonies.
Jostling among the crowd for position, they found themselves near a colorful tent selling sweet honey cakes. The enticing aroma set his stomach to grumbling, and they stopped long enough to buy two of the delicious treats. Moving to an open spot by a large oak tree laden with spring buds, they awaited the start of the parade while eating the glistening cakes.
While they were licking the sweet, sticky honey from their fingers, a distant fanfare of horns sounded announcing the inception of the festivities.
Aldrick popped the last piece into his mouth. “Sounds like the parade is about to begin. How’s your cake?”
Jelénna only nodded, too busy licking honey to reply. Satisfied, Aldrick turned and peered down the street in the direction of the parade.
Standing on a small rise and able to see over most of the gathered crowd, he saw two men approaching from across the street, waving their arms. Before Aldrick could wonder whom they might be searching for, he distinctly heard a shouted “Aldrick!”
Jelénna looked up. “Did I hear someone call your name?”
Aldrick nodded. “Those two crossing the street.”
The strangers pushed their way through the cheerful crowd and halted directly in front of them. The first man was attired in the fine robes of a noble, and carried himself like an aristocrat. He had an odd little curl of hair arranged in the center of his forehead.
His companion was an incredibly obese man, similarly dressed in the finery of the nobility, but with noticeable stains on the front of his doublet. He was bent over with his hands on his knees, puffing and wheezing. Between gasps for air, he managed to sputter “Aldrick”, followed by something unintelligible.
“I believe what my porcine associate is attempting to inquire, is whether you are in truth Aldrick, son of Tiberius?”
“I am.”
“Aldrick,” the rotund fellow managed, followed by a gasp and a shudder. “You resemble your father.”
At his blank look, the second stranger cut in sententiously. “That is not, of course, the impetus of our search. Tiberius requested we speak with you.”
“I didn’t mean we only wished to say he resembled his father!” sputtered the plump noble. “The man doesn’t even know who we are!”
“I was just saying...”
Aldrick interrupted. “I have not had the pleasure of an introduction.”
“Introductions would be prudent, of course. My name is Brandt, son of Paulinus, and my corpulent associate is Gormond, son of Gormond.”
Aldrick raised an eyebrow and Brandt grimaced, leaning in to whisper, “Theirs is not a particularly imaginative family.”
“Yes, Gormond here, how do you do? Gosh, you look just like your father!”
Aldrick shook hands and suppressed a smile as he introduced his wife. Following the usual pleasantries, Aldrick asked, “What can I do for you gentlemen?”
Before either could speak, Gormond spotted the remainder of her unfinished snack. “Honey cake! Oh dear, I just adore honey cakes! Where did you get it?”
Jelénna smiled and pointed to the tent further down. With an excited exclamation Gormond waddled off without another word.
“I apologize for Gormond’s behavior,” Brandt apologized, as the sound of approaching trumpeters echoed from a distance. “He is of noble descent, and a kind hearted soul, yet he is a simpleton. Unfortunately, he insists on following me everywhere I go, and I don’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.”
“You were saying?”
“Oh yes. Your father Tiberius sent me to find you, as he’s working assiduously to prepare for the opening ceremonies. He recently inquired about a golden pyramid you discovered?”
Aldrick tried to contain his excitement. “Do you know what it is?”
“I do not know about this particular piece, no.”
Aldrick felt a tinge of disappointment, but tried to remain positive. “There must be something you can tell me about it.”
“I don’t know about the piece itself, but I can tell you about the symbol.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, the symbol. Now that is interesting. You see this symbol could represent either...”
Brandt was interrupted when Gormond returned chanting, “Honey cake, honey cake!”
“Back so soon? Found the honey cakes I see.”
Gormond could only nod in response, having taken a rather large bite. The parade arrived from around a bend in the street, and the lead trumpeters marched abreast of the group as the crowd cheered the procession. The cry of the trumpets at the head of the column blared loudly making conversation difficult, but Aldrick was impatient to hear what Brandt knew about the symbol.
“You were saying about the symbol?”
“What?”
“The symbol!”
“Oh, the symbol.”
“The drum and cymbal section is next!” Gormond shouted.
“Be quiet!” Brandt shouted, before addressing Aldrick. “Wait...parade goes by, it’s too...” and the rest was drowned out by trumpets. Aldrick was disappointed but knew it would be impossible to have a normal conversation, and so he turned his attention back to the procession.
The trumpeters had soon marched past, followed by the percussion section. Behind the drums were people in bright costumes throwing bits of colored paper at the crowd and handing out candies to children lining the road. Next came a large group of mimes, jesters and acrobats dancing and jumping, and displaying incredible feats of physical prowess.
Following the acrobats were flame-breathers, who astonished the crowd with bouts of intense jets of flame blown from their mouths amidst the startled cries of both children and their parents alike.
Minstrels trailed behind, giving the fire breathers a wide berth as they picked up the jaunty march from the lead musicians. The cavalry came next; trained horses carrying smartly dressed and straight-backed riders, their armor and tack jingling in time with the music.
After the impressive show of cavalry, a colorful group of mummers and dancers appeared, wearing bright, exotic clothing and strange festival masks to disguise their faces. Dancing and jumping about, they weaved intricate arcs and circles in the air with long flowing ribbons, spellbinding the crowd with the ephemeral symbols created by the dancing, colorful strips of fabric.
Mixed in the group were three figures that, while masked, were plainly attired. Oddly, they neither danced nor spun any ribbons. Aldrick was considering how incongruous they appeared, when one of the three abruptly reached inside his doublet. Nearly faster than the eye could follow, two of them pushed the other dancers out of the way, while the third threw something in their direction.
In a heartbeat, a flash of steel slipped through the space between them, sunlight glinting off the sharp edge of the blade. Aldrick reacted instinctively, and threw himself at Jelénna in a desperate attempt to move her out of the path of the incoming missile.
Time seemed to slow as he collided with her and they began the long gradual fall to the ground. The hair on the back of his neck stood as he sensed more than heard the whistle of the dagger miss his left ear by no more than a finger span.
Another heartbeat and time resumed to normal as Aldrick and his wife landed hard on the cobblestone street. The fall knocked the wind out of them, extracting a rare curse from them both.
Before they could recover, the terrified scream of a nearby w
oman pierced the sudden stillness. They looked up to see the handle of a dagger protruding from Brandt’s forehead. Before Aldrick could react, the knees of the aristocrat buckled and his body toppled to the street, dead before he hit the ground.
“Are you alright?” Aldrick asked his wife, knowing there was nothing to do for Brandt. She stared back at him in shock, before managing to give him a quick nod.
Aldrick leapt to his feet and scanned for their attackers, but the surrounding crowd had erupted in panic. Those close by who had witnessed the murder were attempting to escape the area, while others pressed in to discover what had happened. With the confusion, the immediate area had become chaotic.
Scanning over the crowd, Aldrick just saw the three masked attackers disappear around the corner of a building. Weaponless, and with a sea of confusion between them, he realized that chasing them would be exceedingly difficult, and perhaps more than foolhardy. Still, he fumed at their easy escape.
He was frustrated, but the safety of his wife was paramount and he turned back to check on her. He had forgotten all about Gormond until he saw the obese noble kneeling next to the fallen Brandt, sobbing.
“Oh, Brandt, why? Don’t leave me Brandt!”
Jelénna remained immobile from shock next to the puling Gormond as the first group of city guards arrived to investigate the disturbance. None of the guards knew them, and Gormond was in no condition to corroborate their story, so the captain decided to escort them to Tiberius to verify their identities. Guards were dispatched for a coroner to retrieve the body of the fallen noble, while the rest began to restore order.
When they arrived back at the palace, Aldrick suggested they head to the library. They found Tiberius reading at his favorite table, as Aldrick had suspected they might.
After his father had happily verified their identities, the guards recorded their statements of the events leading to the unfortunate murder, along with the description of the assailants. They agreed with Aldrick that since the killers had been masked, it was extremely unlikely they would be found. Yet, Tiberius thought it worth the effort, for the sake of the dead noble.
Aldrick tried asking Gormond about the information Brandt had concerning the symbol of the pyramid, but Gormond simply gave him a blank stare. Aldrick realized he would get nothing from the man, and with the guards finished gathering all pertinent information, they left to deliver their report and begin the search. Jelénna and Gormond accepted their offer of an escort back to their respective quarters, but Tiberius asked Aldrick to stay.
Aldrick agreed only after confirming that Jelénna would be alright by herself for a while, and he kissed his wife goodbye with a promise he would rejoin her shortly.
“What is it, father?”
“Have a seat,” Tiberius pointed to their favorite old wooden table centered in front of the massive fireplace. The stately stone lions watched him light his pipe from a splinter, before he sat down. “From your questions to Gormond, I presume Brandt told you nothing about the symbol of the pyramid?”
“He never had the chance,” Aldrick sighed. “He only had time to say you sent him to find me.”
“Unfortunately I was in a meeting, which is why I did so. Now I realize I should have taken the time to get the information from him myself.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Aldrick said. “I feel terrible about Brandt.”
Tiberius blew out a smoke ring, and motioned with his pipe. “It is very unfortunate, yet you should blame yourself no more than I.”
Aldrick looked at his father, waiting for an explanation.
Putting down his pipe, Tiberius pulled out the list of names Aldrick had found and given to him. Spreading it out on the table, he pointed about halfway down the page. “Take a look here.”
Aldrick glanced at the name his father pointed to, and raised an eyebrow. Considering recent events, the name Brandt, son of Paulinus stood out quite clearly.
Tiberius retrieved his pipe. “I don’t know whether this attack was intended for you or Brandt.”
“If Brandt was killed by a Triad, it seems likely they will strike again.”
“I fear you’re right. I have news of another name on the list, as well. A noble from Erimar in the Kannes region named Holmes, son of Adler has been confirmed dead. That information, along with the murder today, leads me to believe we were indeed correct. This must be a list of nobles to be assassinated.”
“The question is why? And we should we tell Brodan about this?”
“I think not until we know more, considering the Tournament. But, we need answers to these questions, before we run out of nobles.”
Chapter 8
The next day dawned clear and cold, the temperate weather of the early spring having disappeared like a thief in the night. The opening ceremonies were complete, and the first official day of the Tournament of the King began without a cloud in the sky.
Aldrick sat with his father in the library near the crackling fire, sipping hot tea. They had agreed it was much too early and cold for research. Aldrick had received a message through Jarvus that Brodan would meet with him this morning to discuss the unfortunate events of the prior day, but had not said when.
Aldrick was a bit concerned by the absence of his friend thus far. Any candidate who did not register for the Tournament and pass the initial physical exam would be ineligible to compete. The line to register was certain to be extensive, since there were always a large number of men wishing for the chance to become king. Aldrick found it extremely unlikely that Brodan would be enamored with the idea of standing in that line out in the cold, for the better part of the day. He could credit the regent with a good many attributes, but patience was not one of them.
“How is Jelénna?”
Aldrick took a sip of his black Illyrian tea. “Naturally she is worried after the attack on the road, and with what happened to Brandt. But she’ll be fine in time.”
“While it’s true your name is on the list, it will not help her, or you to fret over every passing stranger, or fleeting shadow. Worry never protected anyone.”
Aldrick yawned before he could reply, and so he simply nodded in assent. Rubbing his hands together for warmth, he opened the ancient book of symbology, and began to flip through the pages. “I should get some reading done.”
Aldrick took another sip of tea. He had just begun to read when the distant boom of the door leading from the palace interrupted him. Shortly, Jarvus appeared at the top of the stairs.
The thin servant announced without preamble, “His Highness, the magnanimous regent Brodan requests your immediate presence, Master Aldrick.”
Aldrick stood and stretched. “I was under the impression he would meet me here.”
Jarvus hesitated before replying. “I would not presume to judge what our beneficent regent may or may not choose to do. I will escort you there now. If I must.”
“Jarvus, must you always be so cantankerous?” Tiberius asked with a scowl.
Jarvus bowed ironically and replied, “I am only as the All Father, and circumstances have made me.”
When they arrived at the chambers of the king, Aldrick was surprised to see two burly guards stationed outside the dark polished wooden doors. He could not recall Brodan having personal guards in the palace before, and certainly none that resembled these.
Both men wore the livery and standard armor of the palace guard, but were unshaven and wore unfriendly scowls. Each was equipped with an overly large and well-worn axe suspended from the hip, and from the looks on their faces they appeared both ready and willing to use them.
Jarvus led him past the newly posted guards into the foyer of the chambers, and motioned for Aldrick to wait. The sanctimonious servant approached a second door, which was finely carved and highly polished. Knocking twice, he entered in response to a muffled summons.
Aldrick waited only a brief moment before Jarvus returned. “The mighty regent of the magnificent land of Asturia deigns to see you now.”
; “Thank you Jarvus.”
“Anything to break the monotony.”
Aldrick entered the study of the king to find his childhood friend sitting behind a large, beautifully carved desk, fashioned of dark polished wood.
Brodan was holding a glass of wine and reclined with his feet up on the edge of the desk. He was dressed in the crimson velvet robes of the king.
Standing behind Brodan was a noble Aldrick had not seen before, draped in rich velvet and sporting both a foppish hat and an arrogant sneer. Seated off to one side of the room were three unkempt, travel-stained men, all of whom appeared to be in serious need of a decent bath and a shave. Wearing scuffed armor and weapons; the group appeared ready for battle, or perhaps more accurately as if they had just arrived from one. They reminded Aldrick of the men who had attacked him on the road.
The Key of Creation: Book 01 - Rise of the Destroyer Page 7