by F M Andrews
“It is an honour to meet you, your Highness,” he blurted out desperately looking at Errin for help. Salassan smiled a gentle, knowing smile which made Turrin feel understood and included.
“Tell you what, why don’t we all go and have a bath, change out of our travel clothes and meet again at dinner? I can’t wait to hear everything, but at the moment I can’t stand my own stench let alone inflict it on someone else. We have just been inspecting the new sewage ponds we are building.”
“Ahhh! That explains a lot,” Errin said, holding her nose.
“Don’t be so smug; after all they were all your idea in the first place, if I recall rightly,” he commented with a sly smile, looking directly at Errin. Then he took a deep breath and looked around as if searching for someone. “There he is: my man Rossan, over there, will show you to your rooms and get you anything you need.” Turrin just nodded as he was unable to think of a single thing to say.
At a signal from the king, Rossan, who had been talking animatedly to Hexrick, strode over, introduced himself and then ushered Turrin, Errin and Fenrick towards the palace. The last thing Turrin heard before entering the marble lined entrance was the king’s voice booming across the square.
“Now, Dissan, show me this troll thing you’ve captured.”
The journey through the palace to their rooms was truly amazing. Everywhere Turrin looked there was a treasure, a beautiful painting, a stunning sculpture, wonderful tapestries that ran the full length of a corridor depicting scenes from long ago. The marble floors were inlaid with mosaics so intricate that you could spend a lifetime deciphering them, but the overall feel was of warmth, light and space.
It was as if everything graceful from the wizard era had been preserved and any modern day additions were carefully and tastefully chosen. When Turrin had finally been shown into his spacious room he was exhausted from the sheer effort of trying to take in every new experience the day had thrown at him and the emotional ups and downs he had experienced. It had been all he could do to stagger to the huge bed and fall face down into its soft warm embrace.
When a loud knocking eventually woke him he was still in his clothes, on his stomach, drooling into an ornately embroidered bed covering and it took him a moment to orientate himself, wipe his chin with the back of his hand and straighten his clothes before he shuffled to the door.
“Yes?” he croaked, opening the door a crack.
“Good evening, sir,” came a well-rounded voice. “I have come to get you dressed for dinner.” There was a pause in which Turrin stared frantically around the room to make sure he hadn’t knocked or broken anything he shouldn’t have.
“Eh hem.” A throat clearing noise came from the other side of the door. “Is everything all right, sir?”
Turrin suddenly realized that he had not answered the man and that he had inadvertently closed the door again as he had scanned the room. In confusion he hauled the door wide and the man who had been leaning in to listen to Turrin’s reply had to take a quick step to prevent himself falling through the now empty space.
“Sorry, um, of course, come in. I was just…” Turrin gestured vaguely at the bed. “Just, um, resting.”
The man, dressed in an immaculate uniform, smiled reassuringly. “I hear it was quite a journey, sir, and I am sure you are all exhausted.” Turrin returned the smile as an unsaid thank you. The man looked past Turrin into the room and said, “Now let's get you ready, shall we?”
From then on it was all brisk efficiency, and in an incredibly short time Turrin was scrubbed, his hair cut, washed and dried and he was dressed in a perfectly fitting outfit that was better than anything he had ever seen Dissan wear.
The man, whose name turned out to be Asrick, obviously from the same province as Fenrick, guided him to a large mirror. Turrin’s mouth gaped and his reflection suddenly looked like a halfwit. He snapped his mouth shut. “I look,” he stuttered, gesturing wildly trying to find the words. “I look, um.”
“Distinguished,” Asrick completed his sentence. “Not a bad job, really, even if I do say so myself. Now it is time for dinner, young sir. Please follow me.”
Turrin followed Asrick through the ornate halls once again, not even attempting to remember the way, as it was obvious that this would be an impossible task. He was filled with a strange mixture of dread and excitement. He was certain that somehow he would make a complete ass of himself this evening; yet, despite this, he wanted to meet the king properly and hear what he thought was happening at the boundary and to see if he had any ideas on how to deal with the trolls. Turrin also had to admit that he was quietly excited that Fenrick was going to sing ‘The Saga of Tanzrin’ complete with his, now famous, part in it, and it would be nice to be there when the king first heard it.
Who knows, he might even thank him personally, he thought, staring blankly ahead, as his imagination took off. What if the king decided to knight him? He stood taller and strode faster. Sir Turrin….
“Here we are, young sir.”
Turrin’s daydream evaporated as he stumbled to a halt. Asrick stood by an open door. Turrin peered past him into a large room full of sparkling glassware and delicate crockery. A long table took up most of the room and it was covered with a cream damask cloth. A low floral arrangement ran its entire length and each place setting was defined with crystal glasses and sparkling cutlery. A small group of musicians played quietly at one end of the room and a fire crackled merrily at the other.
About half the place settings had received patronage but there were still several empty chairs, giving the table an overall impression of having missing teeth in its smile.
Asrick lead Turrin to his seat, which was, happily, between Errin and Fenrick who were already there, talking animatedly with people Turrin had never seen before. Errin excused herself politely to the person she was conversing with and turned to smile at him. “My, my, who would have known that this handsome boy was lurking under all that dirt?” She laughed and drew him in for a gentle hug. Quietly she whispered into his ear, now red with embarrassment, “I am so proud of you. Just be the boy I know and love and everyone will like and respect you too.”
Turrin nodded and looked down. How did she always know exactly what to say?
It was not long before the table was full. The king sat at the head of the table, Dissan on the right side of him, and on the left sat a shy-looking man with a mass of dark, tousled hair who Errin whispered was Myssan, Dissan’s younger brother. Tillissan sat next to Myssan, her hair now tamed into a tidy ponytail. Looking around, Turrin found that he knew quite a few faces. There was Surrin sitting next to Dissan, looking understated and beautiful although shy, and Hexrick, still managing to look intimidating even in velvet, and several more of the knights that he had shared the road with for the past moon. Turrin began to feel more at ease and eventually even managed to relax enough to enjoy the evening.
The night was a whirl of laughter and great food. Food he had never dreamed of and tastes he would never have thought possible, but the thing he liked the best were the stories. Everyone seemed to have a tale to tell and they were all fascinating.
Fenrick told ‘The Saga of Tanzrin’ and there wasn’t a dry eye in the place but it was just one tale in a long list. Finally, when the last ices had been cleared away, the fire had burned down to embers and the musicians had left, the king stood.
“I want to thank you all for a truly merry night, and I will see you on the morrow but in the meantime I wonder if Errin, Fenrick and the members of the council could stay behind, I think we need to talk.”
Chairs scraped backwards across the floor and there was a general movement, some followed the king into the adjacent room. Turrin caught a quick glimpse of large overstuffed leather couches and a wall full of books before the king quietly closed the door. The rest of the guests began to drift away in small groups. Turrin yawned and thought of the big, soft bed awaiting him in his room. Realizing that he did not know the way back to his room, he was looking
about to see if he could spot Asrick when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He spun around, not sure what to expect, and came face to face with Tillissan who was grinning from ear to ear.
“Your Highness, um … hello,” he ended lamely, not being able to think of anything wise and interesting to say.
“Crazy boy, call me Tilli everyone else does. Bet you would like to know what they are saying in there, wouldn’t you?” She sighed and looked wistfully at the closed door. “I know I sure do.”
“Ah, yes, I suppose I do.” Turrin was not sure just where this was heading. He was still coming to terms with being spoken to by Princess Tillissan who, now that she was out of her dirty clothes and dressed in a beautiful dress, was intimidatingly pretty.
She leaned closer, as if she sensed his awkwardness and wanted to make it worse, and whispered, “I know a way we can listen to them without being seen.” Then looking straight into his eyes, she challenged him. “You game?”
Turrin was terrified. This was worse than trolls. Well, almost. He knew he would be in trouble if he went with her and humiliated if he didn’t. He closed his eyes and from somewhere deep within his consciousness he heard Werrin’s incredulous voice saying, “You stupid fool! Of course you want to know what’s being planned. Here is the chance is being offered to you on a plate and you’re hesitating?” Turrin blinked several times, took a deep breath and made his decision.
Chapter Seven
“You really know how to do this?” he asked, feeling a small tingle of excitement tickle his spine.
“Uh huh,” she nodded. “Come with me.” She took his hand and walked up to Asrick, who had just appeared at the door. “It’s all right, Asrick, I’ll take him to his room. No stamina, these boundary dwellers; wonder he lasted through dinner.”
“Very well, My Lady. If you are sure.” The courtier nodded to Tilli and then turned to Turrin. “Good night, young sir. Sleep well.”
“Thanks and, ah … you too.” Turrin replied not sure of the correct edict. Tilli grabbed his hand once again and towed him out into the corridor.
Turrin followed silently behind as she led him through dimly lit corridors without hesitation. The trick, she informed him, was to act as if you were on the way to somewhere important, in a hurry and that way no one dared to stop you and ask questions.
Turrin thought quietly to himself that this may work for a princess but it would probably would not work so well for others. Mid way down a dimly lit hall, at a particularly nondescript spot, Tilli stopped suddenly and began to act in a very peculiar fashion. Turning to run her hands over the wood panelled wall she reached one hand above her head and to the right, and the other down to the floor to the left. She looked as if she was concentrating hard and Turrin dared not interrupt. The tip of her tongue peeped out of the corner of her mouth as she continued to probe and for some reason it looked quite endearing on her, especially as he was sure that she had no idea that she was doing it.
A loud click signalled her success and with a quick look up and down the hall to make sure no one was coming, she pressed on the wall. A panel swung open like a large door and the princess disappeared into the darkness beyond. This was getting exciting. Turrin slipped quietly in behind her and she pulled the wall closed behind them. A flint was struck, and a lamp lit. Tilli had obviously been this way before and had stocked the tunnel for future travels. Holding the lamp high with one hand, she placed a finger to her lips with the other. Turrin needed no more warning and he followed her silently down the passage. Rarrin had taught him woodland skills from an early age but this girl of privilege was like a ghost before him, silent and swift. He was impressed. It was becoming harder and harder to think of her as a princess and easier and easier to think of her as a friend sharing an adventure.
After several twists and turns Tilli motioned for him to stop. The light showed a bench seat against one wall. Tilli sat down facing the wall and beckoned Turrin to sit beside her. The bench was not very large and he was very conscious that their legs were touching. In this close proximity he wondered how someone could go from smelling so badly of shit to smelling so good in such a short time. She smiled reassuringly at him and then, with a quiet breath, blew out the light. The darkness was complete. Turrin had never before been so blinded. Always at night there had been stars or the moon. The complete lack of light was a real revelation, the blackness was almost tangible and he felt as if he could feel its soft, smothering touch on his cheek, but just as he felt the panic starting to rise, four holes suddenly opened in the wall in front of them, a double set of twin spots of light, an eye width apart. Tilli leaned forward to look through the ones closest to her and Turrin took the hint and followed suit.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light once again, but slowly the scene before him took shape.
They were looking down into the cosy room that he had glimpsed after dinner. The big, soft leather couches were now occupied. Errin was in a large chair by the fire and the King was pacing the ornate rug in front of her, hands behind his back, face scowling, deep in thought.
The only sound was the crackling of the fire and Salassan’s muffled, measured foot falls. It was obvious that everyone was giving him time to digest some piece of information or waiting for him to come to a decision, as all eyes were following his every move. All eyes, that was, except Errin’s, who for a heart-stopping moment looked directly at Turrin, smiled to herself and turned back to follow the king’s movements once more.
Turrin gasped. He was sure Errin knew he was there, but how? A servant knocked on the door and bustled in with port and cake and under the cover of the noise Tilli patted Turrin’s leg in a reassuring way then leaned close and tickling his she ear, revealed, “We are looking out through the eyes of people in a painting, there is no way they know we are here.” Turrin was sure she was right but he had learned, the hard way, that you could never underestimate Errin.
It took a moment before all the glasses were full and the servant had left. The King resumed his pacing, leaving his glass on the mantel above the fire. Time stretched and Turrin was beginning to think that this whole exercise had been a waste of time when Salassan abruptly seemed to come to a decision and turned to face his patiently waiting audience.
“You know, I just didn’t think this would happen in my lifetime.” He sighed. Turrin noticed that Salassan was now looking directly at Errin. “When my father told me that one of my duties was to look after the ‘Divine Lady’ and help her in the war against evil I thought he was laying it on a bit thick, trying to make the point that my job was to keep the peace as much as possible. But now you are telling me that you … the Errin I have known and loved my whole life are the real ‘Divine Lady’ and that the personification of Evil, a real being, is knocking on the door of our world looking for you?”
He shrugged his shoulders and lifted his hands in a sad gesture of helplessness. “What does this mean for us? What can we possibly do?” His voice sounded subdued and small. The question was not asked in a pleading voice, but rather a resigned one, as if he knew that this was the end of innocence and that it was now time for action, no matter how terrifying or difficult it was going to be.
Errin slowly put down her glass and looked from face to face around the room before she took a deep breath and placing on her hands on her knees, sat up straight and began.
“I owe you all the full story, at the very least.” She paused, watching Salassan sit back down in his own comfortable armchair by the fire.
“Before time, as you know it, there was a world where what you call magic, but we called talent, was revered and everyone participated at some level or other. The more talented one was, the higher the rank you held. For a long time this worked, as there was usually only one person vastly more talented than others but eventually there came a time when two people of equal talent were after the most powerful position. Both sides gathered devotees to their cause and inevitably a heinous war ensued.
“It raged back and
forth until finally one side was backed into a small pocket of the world and it looked as if defeat was imminent. This was the moment when true Evil was born, because in his desperation, the cornered leader, Zail was his given name, discovered that he could drain other people’s talent and make it his own. The more people he drained the more talented and the more powerful he became. The vast accumulation of power also amplified his personality, which was unfortunately fatally flawed. He had always been a bully, enjoying inflicting suffering and pain but now it became an addiction.
“It did not take the rest of the world long to understand what was happening and what the inevitable outcome would be, so in a desperate bid to contain him they had no choice but to create someone of equal talent to oppose him.
“They gathered the most talented people together, and between them, they chose the one person who was least likely to succumb to the seduction of the vast power, the most likely to succeed against Zail, and they willingly drained all their power into that one person.” Errin paused. “And that person was me.”
Everyone in the room gasped, several people automatically brought their hands up to cover their mouths in shock, but no one uttered a word.
Errin looked down at her hands. However ,Turrin had caught the look of utter desperation in her eyes before she shielded them. He had always known that Errin was different, special, wonderful yet to learn that she was not only from another world but that she was ancient beyond belief was just too much for him to deal with at this moment and he shoved these revelations to the back of his mind to be dealt with later.
The room was silent, each person leaning in to catch every word. Errin took a shuddering breath, looked up once again and continued.