“A moment!” a deep voice sang out from somewhere behind the counter. There was the sound of a door slamming, and a tall Glimpse appeared. He flung back the long, dark bangs of his thick mane, revealing bushy eyebrows and startlingly bright blue eyes. He saw Aelic and Antoinette and grinned broadly. Scores of wrinkles and dimples from a lifetime of smiling appeared, and his face took on the look of the happiest of souls. There was also, in the gleam of his eyes, a hint of mischief. He reminded Antoinette of a classical composer gone mad with laughter, and she wondered what sort of doctor he could be.
“Sir Aelic,” he said, still grinning “what brings you to my humble apothecary? Oh-ho! Unless I have gone utterly mad, this must be Lady Gwenne’s twin from the Mirror Realm! And her name is Antoinette.”
“How did you know?” Aelic asked.
“Aelic, you should know by now that I never forget a name, and since her feats of yesterday in the arena, I daresay most of Alleble knows of Antoinette.”
Antoinette smiled slightly and then winced. Oswyn immediately saw her wound. “A pox upon us, Sir Aelic,” Oswyn said, and he ran around the counter to examine Antoinette. “For we have bandied words while a noble lady waits for treatment.”
“Tell me, Antoinette,” he said, looking up from the wound. “This knave here . . . he did not do this to you, did he? Practicing his beloved moulinet?”
“No,” Antoinette said. She winced as Aelic held up the backplate.
“Ah, I see,” said Oswyn. “Be at ease. It is not more than a scratch, though it bleeds more than it should. I have just the thing for that. I tended that very herb in my gardens this morning, as a matter of fact.” Oswyn disappeared behind the counter. A door slammed, then slammed again, and Oswyn returned. He carried a long green plant with feathery leaves and tiny flowers of pale lilac blooming at its top.
“Yarrow,” Oswyn explained as he laid it on the counter. “Most deem it a weed, and so it is—an aggressive one at that! Given the chance, its roots will spread beneath the surface until it takes over a garden! But yarrow has a virtue that few now remember: it stops a wound from bleeding and prevents infection! Staunchweed, some call it—an apt name. A little of this, and you will be as good as new.”
Oswyn took out a ceramic mortar and began mashing the yarrow stalk. Every now and then, he poured a small amount of a milky liquid from a small dark bottle into the bowl. An acrid smell filled the air.
“This will sting a little,” Oswyn said, daubing a clean cloth in the ointment. He pressed it into the wound and held it there for a few seconds. Antoinette grabbed Aelic’s shoulder, and were it not for his armor, she would have made more wounds for Sir Oswyn to heal.
“You said it would sting a little!” Antoinette complained through gritted teeth. “I feel like my whole side is on fire!”
“It is doing its work, m’lady,” Oswyn said, and he removed the cloth. “You see? There now, the wound is no longer bleeding. Allow me to put on a bandage, and you can be on your way.”
“After all you have been through today, you must be anxious to find a place to recline,” Aelic said as they left Oswyn’s apothecary. “But I wonder if you might walk a little longer with me. There is some thing I would like you to see before I take leave to bear your back-plate to the armory.”
“I’m intrigued,” Antoinette replied. “But don’t forget I’m hungry!”
“No, I will not forget. I will see to it that one of the guards at the gatehouse sends word to Elspeth to prepare copious amounts of her stew and bring it to the Guard’s Keep.”
“Aelic, I don’t think I could eat that much stew,” Antoinette said.
“Ah, but Antoinette, what you do not eat, I will.”
Antoinette laughed and noticed that her side no longer hurt. “Wow, that stuff Sir Oswyn mixed up sure did the trick!”
“Sir Oswyn is as skilled a warrior as he is a healer,” Aelic said.
They walked back through the streets of Alleble, Brindle bounding along behind them like a ball of yarn, keeping ever close to Antoinette. The streets were less crowded now, and all of the shops had closed at last. The sun had nearly set, and all but the rooftops were in shadow. Eventually they made their way to the main thoroughfare of the city.
“Now, Lady Antoinette, cover your eyes.”
“Uh, okay,” Antoinette replied, a little leery. Aelic led her a few more steps.
“Now, uncover your eyes!” he said dramatically. “And look upon the grandeur of Alleble!”
Antoinette lowered her hands and gasped. The sun was half hidden by the mountains on the distant horizon, but it spent its last rays dazzling the Fountains of Alleble. Great plumes of water and mist shot high into the air, and droplets of water sparkled like jewels thrown into the sky.
“It . . . it’s breathtaking, Aelic,” Antoinette said, and Aelic stood beside her.
“Yes,” was all he said for many quiet moments. But then, his hand brushed against Antoinette’s, and he stepped away abruptly. “I need to see to your armor,” he said, dashing off through the thoroughfare. “And your meal!”
As Antoinette walked back to the castle, she looked at her hands and smiled. She was reminded of Faethon’s words, “I believe Sir Aelic is quite fond of you.” But she wondered. Was Aelic really fond of her? Or was it her resemblance to Gwenne? Another question spoke in a tiny, mostly ignored part of her mind: And what about Aelic? Am I fond of him, or is it his resemblance to Aidan? Antoinette shook her head. Having a twin in another world sure was getting weird! Antoinette laughed quietly to herself.
Just as she reached the castle’s main gate, Antoinette thought she saw someone standing in the shadowy street behind her. She turned around to confront, but there was no one there—only the Seventh Fountain of Alleble stood behind her. Brindle raced down from her shoulder and disappeared into the gatehouse. But Antoinette was drawn to the presence of the fountain.
She found herself walking slowly up to the dry pool and peering into its gray emptiness. She put her hands on the cool stone rim, and suddenly, she began to see faces twisted in sadness and fear. And torches waiting to light the dark oil that filled the fountain.
“So, great King,” said a voice that seemed to come from both above and behind. The thin, high-pitched, frenzied voice asked: “Will you lay aside your crown for your people?”
There was terror in the eyes of the Glimpses in the reflection.
“You do not command this!” another voice, weary, but still lordly and assured, declared. “I am allowing it. And nothing will ever rescue you from the doom you have chosen!”
There came a shriek and then the sound of a sword scraping across stone. The pool in front of Antoinette erupted in fire. Flames raced around the pool, and faces turned to terror and pain. Antoinette struggled to let go of the stone, but something held her to it. Helpless, she stared into the inferno.
Then she saw two people she seemed to recognize . . . a man and a woman. They are not Glimpse-kind, she thought. In vain the man embraced the woman, trying to shield her, but the flames engulfed them. Suddenly, to her own surprise, Antoinette screamed, “Mommy! Daddy! No, please, nooo!”
A hand grabbed Antoinette’s shoulder, and as she fell backward, a single tear from her cheek fell into the dry fountain.
A Glimpse knight stood before her. He had long sandy brown hair drawn tightly back and a thin silver circlet above his restless blue eyes. “M’lady, are you all right?” he asked. Antoinette could not at first speak. She nodded weakly.
“You seemed in pain,” he said. “I thought you ill . . . that you might fall.”
“Fire,” she said. “My birth parents . . .”
“Alas, m’lady. Now that the cruel shadows of night begin to fall, we are all haunted by the black deeds of our enemy. My brother Bolt fell to Paragor’s dark army in the battle at Mithegard. But come; though some wounds do not heal, let us seek the light within the castle of our King. There we may find comfort and peace in times of trouble.”
16
DREAMS AND
DREAMERS
Antoinette, Aelic, and Nock sat at a long table in the Guard’s Keep. In front of each was a giant bowl filled with stew. The moment one bowl was empty, Elspeth swooped down and refilled it from a great kettle of stew. She was kept busy enough, for Aelic and Nock put away enough stew to feed an army. At first, Antoinette thought that one bowl would have fed her whole family for a week, but she surprised herself by finishing it.
“Are you sure you don’t want some more stew, dearie?” Elspeth asked.
“Maybe later, Elspeth. It is delicious,” Antoinette said, feeling a bit chilled.
“Perhaps I’ve added too much garlic,” Elspeth said.
Antoinette smiled at Elspeth. “The stew is perfect. I mean, look at Aelic.” Caught slurping from his spoon, Aelic looked up. He slowly put the spoon down and then took a cloth and wiped his mouth.
“See what I mean?” Antoinette laughed. “Aelic can’t get enough.”
“Be glad that Mallik is not here,” Nock chimed in, his intelligent eyes gleaming. “For we would not have enjoyed even a taste of Elspeth’s fine stew if my hammer-wielding friend was here!”
“That rascal,” Elspeth said playfully. “It would suit him to ignore the bowls altogether. Can you just see him sitting down with the whole kettle and a spoon?”
They all laughed at that. Elspeth beamed, obviously happy with the attention being paid to her cooking.
“What is going on here?” a voice bellowed from the doorway. “I tarry a few minutes and the stew is all gone?”
“I have put some to the side just for you, Sir Kaliam,” Elspeth said. “You just sit down, and I will bring it right to you.”
“Thank you, Elspeth,” Kaliam said.
Kaliam turned to Antoinette and congratulated her once more. “You have passed the three tests—just as King Eliam said you would.”
“King Eliam told you I’d pass the tests? He knew?”
“Of course he knew,” Kaliam replied, looking at Antoinette strangely. “That is why he called you for this mission. He knew you would be ready.”
“Then, what’s the use of testing me? Why’d you make me go through all those . . . those stupid trials?”
Aelic glanced sideways at Nock. The jovial mood vanished like a candle being snuffed. Kaliam gripped the table and leaned over to look Antoinette in the eye. His forearms tensed. “Do not call anything stupid that has been arranged by the King,” he said curtly. “And the tests were certainly not for our benefit. But sometimes a warrior must learn her own strengths—and weaknesses—before she can do any real good.”
Antoinette looked away, feeling guilty.
“It may be that the lessons you learned from those tests will come back to you in some difficult place. They might even save your life.”
Antoinette’s shoulders sagged, and she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sir Kaliam,” she whispered. “I was wrong to say that. I know King Eliam knows what he’s doing.”
Kaliam straightened and nodded. “Antoinette, you have faced many challenges since arriving in The Realm. I cannot imagine what it has been like for you to leave the comforts of your home to face peril in another realm. But go now, and rest. For tonight is a very important night for you. Sir Aelic, escort Antoinette back to her chamber. Then see to it that she arrives in the Great Hall in two hours, not more.”
“I am most happy to oblige, m’lord,” Aelic said.
Outside her quarters, Antoinette asked Aelic to wait a moment while she went inside. When she returned she handed him the photograph of Robby from the soccer web site. “Have you seen him?”
Aelic stared at the image. “It is like a looking glass on parchment,” he said, in awe of the photo. “And what unusual garments he wears. I have never seen a tunic that shade of green before. And his armor . . . it does not seem to protect much of his body.”
“Those are his shin pads.” Antoinette laughed. “And he’s wearing a soccer uniform, not a tunic.”
Aelic stared at her blankly.
“Soccer is a game we like to play in our world.”
“Oh,” Aelic replied.
“So have you ever seen a Glimpse that looks like him?”
“Alas, no, I am certain I have not,” Aelic said. “I have only resided here in Alleble for a short time, but he is not here. Nor is he in Acacia where my mother resides, or Mithegard where my father rules. Why do you ask? Is this Robby in some sort of trouble?”
“I don’t know. Robby is Aidan’s best friend back in our world,” said Antoinette, “and it’s just that Aidan keeps having these dreams.”
Aelic looked uncomfortable at the mention of Aidan’s dreams.
“In the dream, Robby’s Glimpse is a servant of Paragor, and he’s involved in some kind of evil mission. Aidan asked me to find him and get him to follow King Eliam.”
Aelic abruptly handed the photo back to Antoinette and stood up. “I am sorry, Antoinette, I have not seen him. I must go now, and you must rest.”
“You’ve had dreams too, haven’t you?” Antoinette asked.
“How . . . how did you know that?” Aelic asked.
“When I mentioned Aidan’s dreams, you tensed up,” she said. “And it made sense that if Aidan is having dreams, then you would too, right?”
“Yes, I have seen some haunting images,” Aelic replied slowly, as if the very mention of them was too dreadful to think about. “Lady Gwenne confided in me that she too experiences similar dreams . . . strange, sometimes horrible—not easy for the mind to let go. And that must mean you also experience them.”
“Yes,” Antoinette replied quietly. “But Kaliam told me not to talk about them. It seems to mean something to him, something serious.”
“I likewise have been so warned,” Aelic replied. “Let us not speak of this again until we have Kaliam’s counsel. Now, m’lady, do get some rest. I will bring your armor when I come for you later.”
Aelic started to leave, but Antoinette motioned for him to wait.
“Sir Aelic, do you think I have a chance of finding Robby’s Glimpse out of all the Glimpses in The Realm?”
“If that is what King Eliam called you here to do,” Aelic replied, “then I am certain you will find him. But if he indeed serves The Betrayer, it will be no easy task to change his heart.”
17
THE GOOD
CONFESSION
Antoinette’s repaired armor felt much more comfortable. And her side—it was as if the wound was never there. Sir Oswyn knows his herbs! she thought. She and Aelic had joined many other Glimpses in the Great Hall. There were knights in armor, ladies in long gowns, even a few children playing in the corner of the room.
“On your feet, you lot of lethargic widge-lumps!!” bellowed Kaliam as he stormed into the hall.
He startled Antoinette, Aelic, and most of the other Glimpses in the room. Antoinette and Aelic leaped up from their seats and stood very still.
Four other knights marched in with Kaliam and stood behind him at the head of the table. One of them was a stout Glimpse with dark eyes and a long coppery mustache and beard, who hefted an immense warhammer as he stepped forward.
“Very good, Sentinel!” he said. He smiled and elbowed Kaliam in the ribs. “You nearly sounded like the legendary Captain Valithor!”
“Mallik!” Kaliam exclaimed. “Do not ruin the moment!” But then he burst into laughter himself. Mallik grinned and stepped back in line as Kaliam turned and motioned for everyone to be seated.
“Citizens of Alleble!” he began. “Twelve knights will ride for Yewland at first light on the morrow. Joining me will be four members of the Elder Guard you see here: Sir Farix, Sir Tal, Sir Nock, and Sir Mallik, along with seven chosen from your ranks.”
The Glimpses near Antoinette and Aelic murmured at this announcement. “The Sentinel and four Elder Guard?” one whispered.
“Something must have gone wrong in Yewland,” said another.
Kaliam fired a harsh g
lare, silencing the gossip. Then he continued.
“The mighty and wise King of Alleble has chosen the twelve for this mission,” he said, looking from knight to knight. “If I call your name, stand and join me at the head of the table. For those of you left behind, understand that the decision was made because of the skills needed for this mission. Do not despair. Your turn will come.”
A wave of tension washed over the knights. Antoinette glanced at Aelic. His face was grim. His narrowed eyes glinted blue.
“Sir Aelic, as heir to Captain Valithor’s mantle, you will journey to Yewland,” Kaliam announced.
Aelic nodded and said, “My grandfather is a hero of Alleble, as is my twin in the Mirror Realm, Sir Aidan, Knight of the Dawn. Their mantles are beyond my grasp. I hope only to serve my King faithfully.” Then he took a deep breath, stepped forward, and stood beside the Sentinel.
“Sir Tobias, come forward!” Kaliam said.
A tall, thin warrior rose to his feet. He had dark hair, immaculately cut to hang just above his shoulders, and smallish brown eyes that were close set, divided only by the narrow bridge of his sharp nose. He wore gleaming armor over a rich tunic of deep blue. He looked elegant and held his walking stick as if it were a royal scepter.
“You will serve as pathfinder on this journey,” Kaliam continued. “But fear not. You will have a wealth of experience at your call. I am also a pathfinder—though, as Sentinel, I shall lead mostly in other ways. And no one in this room knows the southern routes and forest ways like Nock, for he was born in Yewland.”
Sir Tobias stroked his neatly trimmed goatee thoughtfully and said, “Sentinel Kaliam, my Captain, it will be a significant honor to chart the prudent way to Yewland. It is my hope not to trouble you or our archer extraordinaire Nock with my own mundane pathfinding tasks.”
The Rise of the Wrym Lord Page 10