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When the young traveler from Taeglin finished emptying the tent, two soldiers came to strike it. He noted that they wore different uniforms from men he had seen encircling Sunset. In fact, those soldiers had been clothed in the greens and browns of the forest, while these fellows were dressed all in blue, with silver trim adorning their tunics. Both men at hand were tall and thin with black hair and blue eyes. Most of the other men Loric had seen about the camp had blonde hair and beards to match. Yet neither man of this pair wore facial hair.

Loric asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

The men paused and peered at him quizzically. They spoke hastily to one another in a

language he thought he recognized, but did not understand. They shrugged in turn and resumed the process of removing the tent without him. Loric was dumbfounded. The only person he had met who knew another tongue was Avalana, but she could speak his language so fluently that her accent sometimes disappeared. Loric had never encountered communication barriers in Taeglin that had not been direct results of disputes. The thought that the two dark-haired men may not speak as he spoke had never occurred to him.

Loric was about to share his dilemma with Avalana, so he could seek her opinion of it, when a mildly accented voice, not completely unlike the lady’s, said, “Young man, please do not take offense by my men. They do not understand your speech, for they are far from their homes in Regalsturn.”

Loric turned to see who had spoken, because he did not recognize the voice. The man before him was tall and thin, like his soldiers. He too had blue eyes set into his heavily wrinkled face, but his black hair had faded mostly to gray. The man was dressed in like fashion to his soldiers, except that his cloak had a fur collar. He was adorned with magnificent rings and necklaces of silver, and large lapis lazuli and lace agates were set into each ornament upon his person. At his side hung a fine sword with a golden pommel, and there was a crown of gold atop his head. His entourage of guards and servants gathered closely at his heels.

“Father!” Avalana cried sweetly, now seeming a different person than the one who had

complained of her sire but minutes before his arrival.

Loric immediately dropped to one knee and bowed low to the ground. “Forgive me my

ignorance, Sire,” he apologized. “I-”

“Avalar is King of Regalsturn only,” said the foreign monarch, “not Beledon as well. You need not bow before me, although I appreciate the respect you have shown me. Rise now and I shall teach you words of Regalspeech. Then you will be able to ask my men if there is anything you can do to help them.”

“I would be most thankful to learn that and more, but I am grateful to learn anything you are willing to teach me, Sire” Loric replied excitedly.

“I am sure you will have plenty of chances to learn Regalspeech,” Avalana chirped

excitedly. “If you stay at Moonriver Castle during our visit, father and I-”

The blast of a great ox horn cut the lady’s words short. That sound was significant, although it had no meaning to Loric. Avalar spoke Regalspeech to a retainer at his side, who made off with all haste. Avalana explained, “That is the signal to ready mounts,” so Loric excused himself to follow the dark-haired servant.

Loric met the commander in bright mail along the way. The lord turned to Loric and asked,

“Would you be kind and fetch my horse for me, good guest?”

“How shall I know which one is yours, lord?” Loric inquired in return.

“Mine is the only white horse in this camp,” said the man.

“Will no one trouble me for taking your mount?” Loric questioned doubtfully.

“If any man troubles you,” the man returned, “tell him Lord Aldric sent you to fetch his steed. Tell him also that any man who hinders you shall have to answer to his lordship.”

Loric answered, “I will go and retrieve your steed, just as you have asked me to do, lord.”

With that, Loric offered a slight bow and departed in search of Sunset and the white horse.

He espied his own stallion first, for he was like a fire burning amidst the masses. He hastened to prepare his horse for the ride ahead. Then he scanned the rope enclosure in search of Aldric’s steed. It took only a few minutes to spot the animal. Its dazzling white coat and mane ensured that it would stand out from other mounts.

Loric paused to admire the magnificent creature before going to retrieve it. He presumed that the finely ornamented saddle resting on the stump nearest the horse was in fact Lord Aldric’s riding gear. Three impressive towers had been embossed in the leather. The inlay was silver, and the tip of each tower was set with an emerald. Loric tossed the saddle onto the snow-colored mount and pulled the girth strap tight. He grabbed the matching saddlebags and made to lead the horse away when someone shouted, “Hey! You there! What are you about?”

The sudden outburst startled Loric, but he drew a deep breath and calmly answered, “Lord Aldric asked me to fetch his horse. He said that any man who hinders me in my task must answer to him.”

That was enough for the man, who said, “By all means, hurry then. I have no desire to deny or delay milord’s wishes.”

Loric bade the man goodbye and hurried back to the spot where he had last seen Aldric. The lord had moved along a hundred yards or so, but he had not ceased issuing commands to his men. In fact, he was giving a long stream of instructions to his subordinates when he chanced to notice Loric. Satisfied that all was being done as he wished, he relaxed visibly and grinned at the young traveler from Taeglin.

“I see no one was willing to stand in your way,” he remarked. As Loric nodded in the

affirmative, he added, “Good.” There followed a hurried inspection of Loric’s work, after which Aldric grunted his approval and shared, “I deemed you worthy to handle this task with the class of your noble station, and you have passed my test. Now, ride with me.”

Aldric signaled to his captains, who in turn bellowed orders for their respective companies to fall in. For a large force, the men fell in line with impressive speed. This was an organized host. Moreover, it was a well-ordered, properly trained group of soldiers, and Loric felt assured in his assumption that the credit belonged in the gauntleted hand of Lord Aldric himself. The man was unlike any man he had ever met before him. There was cool authority in his commands, yet there was respectful attitude toward the men in his service. Without knowing anything else about the lord, Loric approved of him.

“We must be on our way,” said Aldric. His columns of soldiers stood stock still behind him, patiently awaiting the order to march. “Forward!” Aldric shouted, loosening the reins of his white horse.

Aldric, Avalar and Avalana rode at the head of the host, with their guards forming screens to either side of them and Loric trailing just behind them. The sun broke free of the clouds, at once warming hearts and bodies, for the morning had been chill and gloomy in the aftermath of the previous night’s torrent. Aldric and his guests talked gaily as they rode, and had it not been for the host of soldiers streaming along behind them, any witness of their passing would have thought they were on a picnic.

King Avalar spoke long of events in Regalsturn, but eventually, he fell silent. The lasting pause made Loric uncomfortable. Aldric appeared unsettled about something. Finally, he spoke.

“Your Greatness, I do not wish to seem rude, but our young friend and I have pressing matters to discuss, and we need privacy. Would you excuse us for falling back away from the column?”

Avalar looked serious, perhaps distrustful. The expression lingered. Loric feared he might have been kindling to start a fire between two great lords, until the king’s face softened into a pleasant smile and he assured Aldric, “You are not in the least being rude. I understand the need for conversations of private natures. I excuse you both. Go now and resolve these matters with my blessing.”

Aldric thanked the monarch twice. Afterward, he wheeled his mount around and motioned for Loric to follow him. At Loric’s direction, Sunset cut an invisible circle on the Old King’s Way and bolted into a jog to pace the white horse. When they were twenty yards from the moving column, Aldric spoke hesitantly, choosing his words with great care as he said, “I understand you are from Taeglin.”

“That is correct, lord.”

“A wonderful farm community,” Aldric commented, his tone sharpening as he went on, “but not the place where one would expect to find the armor and weapons of Sir Logant! How did you acquire the trappings of a noble knight, young man?”

Loric was taken aback by the sudden edge on Aldric’s voice. He was bewildered and afraid.

His temptation was to lie. “I did not know....” Loric began, at once faltering when he met Aldric’s keen green eyes, and he felt his heart jolt onto two sword points.

Those sharp eyes seemed to see all, know all. They said unto Loric what Aldric had left unsaid, warning him,
I will know your lie.
“You did not know that was the blade and armor of Sir Palendar son of Galendar, formerly the Lord of Belgandost, the Guardian of the Kingdom and the First Knight of Beledon and Moonriver, whose fathers have worn those items since the days of Sir Logant?” he questioned dubiously.

In truth, Loric did not know any of those statements to be factual until Aldric said them. It was unusual to hear his father’s full name and array of titles. The length of honors accorded Sir Palendar only added to Loric’s burden of guilt, so he sighed and confessed, “I stole the sword and armor from a hidden compartment beneath my father’s barn, lord. I am no more a knight than I am a soldier. I am a common thief. Your men should flog me or jail me.”

“It is not enough to steal, but now you would presume to be a lord?” Aldric questioned, arching his right eyebrow to punctuate his question.

The accusation caught Loric at unawares. He opened his mouth to protest, but unintelligible sounds stumbled forth in broken syllables. “I--uh--ah-”

Aldric mercifully stopped him. “You have passed sentence that was not yours to pass,” the lord explained. Before Loric could object, he went on to say, “I see a young man who took his inheritance, unbidden, by his own admission. I see the son of a man who is not so common. I see a son who is not so common.” He raised his index knuckle to his lips and concluded, “Your crime was petty, if it can be considered a crime at all.” His eyes shifted, telling Loric he had thought of another crime, worse in its magnitude, but he clearly considered it best left unspoken.

Aldric caught and held Loric’s stare, before he went on, “It is Lord Garrick’s place to judge you, but as his vassal lord, and the Lord of Egolstadt, I am fit to render judgment in his stead. Some would say to do as you have suggested, and have you jailed or beaten.” He watched Loric, although he made no comment on what he saw. “Others would say to send you back to your father under guard and let you face him as a man and tell him what you have done.” Again, Aldric measured Loric with his stare. At length he said, “But I ask you this: is not your burden of guilt the greatest punishment of all? For all that your admission to me has released you from this guilt, I would bind you to stay with me and thereby deny you opportunity to return to your father and find his forgiveness. Moreover, I would have you pledge your ill-gotten sword to my service, so that each time you are forced to act upon my will, you will be reminded of your deed and learn wisdom from it.”

“But, lord,” Loric protested, “I would offer my sword to Lord Garrick. I-”

Aldric stopped him with stern words, saying, “It is not your sword to pledge, and so you have forfeited your right of choice in this matter.” Aldric softened his expression and offered,

“Your choice is to render this weapon unto me by your solemn oath, and by extension unto my overlord Garrick, or else forfeit it to me and fight like a peasant conscript in the battles ahead.

Which will you choose?”

Loric did not like his options, but it was clear there was only one to take. Aldric would ransom the gear of his fathers for service. There was no other way to get it back. It was a hard play.
However,
Loric had to admit,
it is effective.
Loric nodded, offering, “I give you my promise to swear, lord. My sword--the blade of my fathers--will be yours.”

“Excellent!” Aldric exclaimed in reply. The lord reached down to his side, from whence he produced a large sack. He tossed the clattering bundle to Loric and commanded him, “Wear these as well as your father wore them, but do not wear them in the presence of Lord Garrick, or even within his stronghold. Swear your loyalty to me, and I will personally see to it that you are restored to your rightful place, Loric of Taeglin.”

Loric lost the greater meaning of Aldric’s assurance to restore him to his
rightful place,
as he pondered how the man had come to know his name. There had been no formal introduction between them, and Loric did not remember giving his name to the Lord of Egolstadt. Avalana was the only person in camp to have heard it spoken, but there had been no opportunity for her to share it with Lord Aldric. To Loric’s recollection, it had never come up in conversation.

The young traveler shrugged the matter off in favor of dismounting to inspect items from the bag. As he withdrew the sword from the folds of burlap, Aldric remarked, “Sir Logant had that forged after his brother, King Lornigan knighted him. Valdigar Steelbender, who was perhaps the finest smith Beledon has ever known, crafted that weapon upon his anvil.”

As the greater weight of Aldric’s words finally struck Loric, he asked, “What do you mean, when you say restored to my rightful place, lord? Surely you do not suggest the Seat of Belgandost?”

“Peace! Be still, son of Palendar!” Aldric snapped. “There will be time for that discussion later. For now, be content to know that you have a friend in me. I will do everything in my power to keep you from harm until you ascend to your birthright. You will have to trust your sword arm and that chain hauberk to see you safe where I fail you.”

Loric’s mind was awhirl with questions for which he had no answers.
Why not tell me now?