Path of Kings

by James Dale

  Enclosed within these circles were the different sections of Brythond. The first of these was the Circle of Wares, a farmer's market and bazaar where all manner of goods were brought in from the surrounding districts and beyond to be sold to the citizens of the city. These goods included everything from freshly baked bread, made from grain harvested just outside the city walls, to silks and diamonds imported from the savage jungle kingdom of Zsolandar, a thousand miles to the south. If some item you sought could not be found in the Circle of Wares, chances were it was not to be found anywhere in Aralon. Braedan saw little of this grand market at this late hour, just street after street of shuttered storefronts and row upon row of darkened peddler's booths barely visible in the mist.

  It was several leagues around the city to the next gate and the entrance to the Circle of Services. A word from the sergeant in charge of Braedan's escort to the soldiers guarding the passageway between the two circles gained them immediate entrance the next section of the city, the workplace of Brythond. Here was an infinite variety of inns and taverns, bakeries, smithies, and tanneries located here as well as all manner of manufacturing establishments. Again Jack saw precious little because of the heavy mist, but he could tell each time his escort passed by a tavern or inn by the boisterous singing and laughter heard coming from within and by the intoxicating smells drifting out to torment his empty stomach.

  Mercifully, this section of the city was soon left behind as the group came to the Circle of Citizens. There was but a single pair of bored soldiers stationed at the entrance way into the most heavily populated area of Brythond. The two men snapped to attention as the horsemen approached, but hardly glanced at Braedan as he was escorted through their post. About a half an hour later the group arrived at the next gate. The Circle of Nobles. The residency of the wealthy and the gentry of Brythond.

  Though this part of the city was also hidden by the fog, Jack could tell it was the wealthiest section simply because it was less crowed than the previous three circles had been. Jack and his escort had been traversing this circle for about a quarter of an hour when the sergeant finally addressed him.

  "The home of the prime minister in just ahead sir."

  "Thank you."

  "Sir...are you truly Princess Thessa's champion?" the sergeant asked hesitantly.

  "Last time I checked," Jack shrugged, "But knowing women? I guess I'll have to wait and see. I’m a little late I’m afraid. She was expecting me months ago."

  "All of Brydium is in your debt sir," the sergeant replied.

  "Given the chance, any decent man would've done the same." Jack shrugged again, a bit embarrassed. "And probably even more."

  "Perhaps." the sergeant mused. "Perhaps not. My brother...my brother Brand was one of Prince Thonicil's guardsmen. He was the commander Countess Thessa's escort to Thondil when she was abducted by the Kadinar raiders. In honor of his memory, I thank you for restoring her to us."

  "Is your name Vanar, sergeant?" Jack asked. He had heard the tale from Thessa on the Seawolf. She held Brand Vanar in high esteem.

  "Kirk Vanar, sir. Like I said, Brand was my older brother."

  "I am sorry for your loss. Thessa thought highly of your brother," he informed Kirk. “She told me he fought bravely when they were attacked.”

  They fell into an awkward silence after the mention of the guardsman's fallen brother, but it only lasted a short while. The squad of horsemen soon stopped before a pair of ornately carved wooden doors recessed into a stone wall standing a good ten feet high.

  "We are here sergeant," announced the soldier at the head of the column.

  "See if anyone is at home Cyran," Vanar instructed the guardsman.

  Cyran dismounted and began to knock loudly on the door with a gloved fist. When it produced no result, he pulled upon a rope of braided silk attached to a pulley at the top of the wall. Faintly heard in the distance came the tinkling of brass chimes, followed quickly by the sound of hurrying feet. Presently a small window opened in one of the doors and the face of an aged valet appeared.

  "Yes?" he asked, looking over Cyran, then the mounted escort surrounding Jack. "May I help you?"

  "Is the Lady Thessa within?" Sergeant Vanar asked.

  "Perhaps," the valet replied hesitantly. "What business do you have with have with the princess?"

  "We have someone..."

  "Tell her an old friend wishes to see her," Jack interrupted.

  "An old friend?" the valet asked, eyeing the travel stained rider with obvious distaste. "The princess and her husband are dining with the prime minister and some important...guests. Might I suggest you call back in the morning?"

  The small window shut with a disdainful bang.

  "I'm getting tired of hearing that," Jack muttered.

  "Cyran," Sergeant Vanar nodded.

  The guardsman began to pound on the door once more.

  "Enough!" the valet cried, opening the window before Cyran's fist had struck thrice. "Have the Dragon Guard become rowdies? Who is your commander sergeant? He will hear of your insolence."

  "Captain Gisborne is tonight's Captain of the Watch," Vanar answered calmly. "It was he who insisted the princess identify this man. If you would be so kind as to request her presence you will soon learn why we are forced to intrude so rudely upon her evening."

  "Very well," the valet sighed grudgingly. "I will see if she is available. Your name sirrah?"

  "Just tell her an old friend is calling," Jack repeated. "I need some more of that awful concoction Rhonn taught her to make for my ribs."

  "Your ribs?" the valet asked, confused.

  "That's right. My ribs."

  His eyes suddenly sprang open and a look of wonderment appeared on his wrinkled face. "Your ribs!"

  "Now you're catching on," Jack smiled.

  "Right away sir!" the valet cried, and the sound of his footsteps quickly faded into the fog.

  "Does this mean we will be eating soon horse-brother?" Eaudreuil asked hopefully as Braedan dismounted.

  "I believe it does," he said, patting the stallion's broad neck.

  Jack dismounted and tied his helmet to Eaudreuil's saddle horn. In a few short minutes the sound of returning footsteps reached their ears. Braedan quickly smoothed his hair, suddenly wishing he'd been allowed to stop at an inn and take a bath before coming here. Then the doors were thrown open and there she was. The countess looked exactly as he remembered her; the same smoldering blue eyes, the same raven black hair, the same innocent face. She hadn't changed at all except for one small detail. Thessa was at least seven or eight months pregnant.

  "My Lady," Jack smiled, and was nearly knocked from his feet as the sobbing woman threw herself into his arms.

  He held her tightly for a long time, marveling at just how much he realized he'd missed her. Untangling himself from her embrace, Jack held her at arm’s length. "You certainly didn't waste any time," he grinned.

  "His name will be Jack Braedan Th'nar," she laughed, placing her hands lovingly on her rounded belly.

  "And if it's a girl?"

  "It will be a boy," Thessa replied confidently. "One day the king of Brydium will bear your name."

  "Ahh hum..." Sergeant Vanar cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt, but it is obvious the princess recognizes you."

  "I'm sure Captain Gisborne will be relieved to hear it," he smiled.

  "Actually," Vanar laughed, "I think he'd probably rather have seen you in jail. Will that be all sir?"

  "Yes. Thank you, Sergeant," Jack nodded.

  “If it is not too presumptuous,” Kirk Vanar said hesitantly. “If you should find the time after you are settled in, or any time at all for that matter, ask for me at the palace. Stone Company is quartered there. My men and I would be honored to buy you a drink. In honor of my brother.”

  “As soon as time and circumstance allow it, Sergeant.” Jack promised.

  "Highness," Vanar said, bowing deeply in his saddle to the princess.

  "Sergeant," she
nodded, eyeing him curiously.

  "Move out second squad!" Vanar commanded and the guardsmen quickly turned their mounts and disappeared into the fog.

  "By all that's holy!" Thessa cried, turning back to Jack. "You have the look of a starving wolf! Have you been living in the wilds?"

  "Close enough," he replied.

  Thessa fell into his arms once more, beginning to cry anew. "Where have you been? I have been expecting you for months since I heard of your eh-escape from du-du..Dor..."

  "Thessa?" a voice asked from inside the open double doors. Jack looked up to find a tall young man of perhaps twenty-four or twenty-five, with striking blue eyes and coal black hair. "Is something wrong?" the man asked.

  Thessa disengaged herself and wiping away tears moved to the young man's side, taking his arm. "My love." she said, "This Jack Braedan. Jack, this is my husband, Prince Thonicil Th'nar."

  "Prince Thonicil," Jack said, extending his hand. "I've heard a lot about you."

  "Thessa has also...spoken at length of you, sir." the prince replied.

  Jack thought he detected the slightest trace of hostility in the prince's voice. Well...maybe not hostility exactly, but definitely resentment. After a second's hesitation, Thonicil took the offered hand in his own. His grip was firm, almost challenging, as if he sought to judge the worth of the man whom his wife had chosen as her champion. A position he no doubt felt was his place alone to occupy.

  "Won't you...come in and join us?" the prince asked reluctantly, as he released Jack's hand.

  "Oh yes please!" Thessa laughed enthusiastically. "Father will be absolutely thrilled."

  "I would be honored," Jack bowed. "But first I must see to Eaudreuil."

  "Nicolas can attend to your mount," Thonicil said, motioning the old valet forward.

  "Mount?" Eaudreuil snorted.

  "Be nice you oaf," Jack whispered sharply.

  "I beg your pardon?" Thonicil asked, apparently thinking the remark had been directed at him.

  "I was speaking to Eaudreuil your highness," Braedan apologized. "He sometimes forgets his manners."

  "I have better manners than this two-legs," the Val'anna neighed. “He does not care for you much Horse-brother. He feels…threatened.”

  “That’s because he doesn’t know us,” Jack said patting the roan’s broad neck. "Go with Nicolas. I’ll come see you as soon as I am settled in. Take good care of him Nicolas, Eaudreuil is not my mount, he is my friend."

  "Count Arthol’s stables are the finest in all of Brythond," the valet bowed, "It will be my pleasure to attend to such a fine Val'anna stallion. He will want for nothing while he is here with us. I promise you."

  "Finally!" Eaudreuil beamed as he allowed Nicolas to lead him away. "A two-legs with some manners."

  "Shall we go?" Thessa asked, releasing her husband, she took Jack by the hand and guided him through the mist covered courtyard of the Arthol estate.

  The ancestral home of the Count of Brythond, including both house and grounds, covered several acres. Though it could not begin compare in size to the palace of King Ellgenn in Dorshev, the residence of Thain Arthol, Prime Minister of Brydium, was no less regally endowed. The trio moved along a cobblestone pathway brightly lit with lanterns of polished brass and silver. Despite the mist, Jack could make out a lovingly manicured garden filled with deep pools, flowing fountains, and all manner of exotic plants and greenery lush with the expectation of the coming spring.

  Yet as great as the natural beauty of the garden, it was matched if not surpassed by the beauty of the Arthol mansion. The building loomed suddenly out of the fog, a behemoth of white limestone and granite. At the front of the mansion was a veranda with marble columns so large two men could not reach around them, supporting an open air balcony extending out from the second floor. To the north and south of the main building ran wings of three story height, branching out until they disappeared into the fog, each containing at least thirty rooms apiece if the numbers of windows and doors they possessed were any indication. Topping it off was a tremendous dome made of colored glass and beams of lacquered wood.

  The interior was no less spectacular.

  Passing through double doors inlaid with ivory and polished brass, Jack was quickly escorted into a foyer where they were met by a servant, who guided them into a parlor with shining marble floors. Suspended from the center of the domed ceiling high above was a giant crystal chandelier, a least twenty feet in diameter, where hundreds of long, slender candles burned, illuminating the room. Jack briefly wondered if there was a servant somewhere in this mansion whose sole duty was to keep the chandelier supplied with fresh candles.

  Across the parlor were twin staircases, carpeted in white and circling around the far wall, one to the right and one to the left, leading to overhanging balconies and the upper floors. At the foot of these stairs was another set of ornately carved double doors which the servant wordlessly opened, then stepped aside with a bow.

  Jack groaned inwardly when he saw the large, formal dining hall and the fifty guests seated at a long, rectangular table. He knew he must look a mess compared to the smartly attired gathering. They turned as one when the three entered, looks of surprise on every face at seeing Thessa escorting a rather ill kept stranger, while her princely husband tagged along behind her with a clearly disgruntled air. At the head of the long table, a man dressed entirely in black silk, unbroken expect for a red dragon embroidered above his heart, stood to greet them. He was perhaps forty- five years of age, with strong, chiseled features and black hair just starting to turn gray at the temples.

  "There you are my dear," he smiled, "And you have brought another...guest?"

  "Indeed, my liege," Thessa replied, and despite her condition she released Jack's arm to curtsy gracefully. "Father." she continued, speaking now to the man on his immediate right. "If it pleases you, my I present my rescuer and champion. Jack Braedan."

  The room erupted in excited conversation.

  "Well!" cried the man in black silk, quickly silencing the growing mummer of excited voice. "This is truly an unexpected surprise! Bring him in! Bring him in!"

  Thessa escorted Jack across the room and dinner guests stood as they passed, craning their necks to get a closer look at the man on her arm; the champion she'd spoken of so often. As they reached the end of the table, the two men stepped out to meet them. The princess released his arm and curtsied again. Jack, taking his cue from his her, went to one knee and bowed his head respectfully.

  They were allowed them to remain this way for but a second.

  "Please my dear," the king admonished. "No need for that. Why the formality?"

  "It is a formal occasion sire," Thessa smiled as she moved to his side, "when the princess of the realm presents her champion to the king."

  "So, you are Thessa's champion?" the king asked.

  "I am," Jack answered, lifting his eyes to sovereign ruler of Brydium. "If it pleases your majesty.” Theros Th’nar looked exactly how Braedan imagined a king should. Tall. Strong. Confident. He had an air about him commanding respect. But there was not a trace of arrogance on his smiling face.

  "It does indeed," Th'nar nodded, extending his hand Braedan. "Arise! And welcome to Brythond!"

  "Thank you, your majesty," Jack replied, allowing the king to help him to his feet.

  Theros turned over Jack’s hand, examining the Kadinar signet ring. He raised a questioning eyebrow at Braedan.

  “It has been an…eventful winter, sire,” Jack replied. “I apologize for my appearance. I have been long on the road. If it will not offended you, I’ll beg your leave to make myself more presentable.”

  "Nonsense!" the king said, releasing his and clapping his back. "Bearing the stain of travel is no shame. It looks like your attire comes with many interesting stories as well apparently. Dine with us. Break your fast. I insist. And no more sires and majesties, Jack Braedan. Not tonight. Tonight, you must think of me only as a grateful father-in-law and your faithful serva
nt."

  "If you wish," Jack smiled, relieved this king was nothing like Ellgenn of Doridan.

  “I insist,” Theros replied.

  "Jack," Thessa beamed, taking him by the arm once more. "May I present my father, Thain Arthol. Prime Minister of Brydium and Count of Brythond."

  Arthol stepped forward and embraced the startled Braedan. Though he made several attempts to speak, the man was so overcome with emotion he could not find words capable of expressing his overwhelming gratitude. When he released Jack, tears flowed unashamedly down his cheeks. Jack would be surprised to learn later the count was known throughout Brythond for his stoic demeanor, and he had not even cried when told the news of his daughter's abduction by the Kadinar raiders.

  "Bring a chair!" King Theros commanded. "He will sit beside me!"

  The words were scarcely out of his mouth before a servant began clearing a space for Braedan between the king and Thessa's father.

  "May I?" asked another suddenly appearing before him, and reached up to undo the clasp holding his cloak. When he noticed the silver amulet at his throat was the dark-King's horned skull however, he pulled his hands back as quickly as if he'd thrust them into a fire.

  "It's a souvenir," Jack assured the servant, removing the heavy cloak and handing it to him. The man walked away white faced, handling the garment as carefully as if it were a poisonous serpent.

  "Your sword sir?" another servant asked, reaching for his belt.