Into a Dark Realm (20 page)

Tad whispered, “Grandprey?”

Zane glanced at the boy, who looked skyward, as if to say he hadn’t picked his name, his mother had.

The boys said nothing else, while the royal court applauded politely. The royal family, however, seemed quite genuine in their warmth and thanks, which Jommy assumed meant that Grandy had given a colorful account of their heroics on the mountain.

The King stood up and descended the three steps to stand before the boys, while a page in royal livery appeared at his side, holding a large tray. The tray was covered in white velvet, upon which rested three golden pins with the royal crest of the nation on them. The King took the pins from the tray and personally pinned them on the collar of each of the three boys in turn, and then stepped back.

Jommy glanced over to where Servan stood. The young man motioned for them to bow, so Jommy did so, followed at once by Tad and Zane. The King returned to his throne and said, “A reception will begin as soon as today’s court is adjourned.”

Servan motioned for the boys to return the way they had come. They bowed as they stepped backward, turned, and walked to the entrance of the hall.

Once outside, Servan and Godfrey approached and Servan said, “Well, that was good. You didn’t trip, though keeping your mouth shut does seem a problem for you, doesn’t it?”

Jommy had the good grace to looked embarrassed. “Well, I know, but it wasn’t that difficult a situation, and you took a lot more risk saving my arse than I did with Grandy. They should have been giving you the honor.”

Servan shrugged. “Well, I won’t argue with you, but remember, they don’t hand out honors for saving thickheaded peasant boys. Besides, I’m already a Knight of the Court.”

“What was all that about, then?” asked Zane.

Godfrey said, “What it means is you’re knights until you die, but you can’t pass along the title to your sons. They’ll be peasants like you.”

Zane rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

Tad laughed. Their relationship with Godfrey had also changed to one of guarded tolerance, if not friendship.

“Come along,” said Servan. “You need to be at the reception before the royal family makes its entrance. Try not to spill wine on your new clothes. The gods know when you’re ever going to dress this well again.”

Jommy clapped his hand on Servan’s shoulder, just hard enough to make Servan’s knees buckle ever so slightly, a semiplayful gesture. “You’re an intolerable twit. And just when I was beginning to think you were a tolerable twit.”

Tad, Zane, and Godfrey all laughed.

They entered the royal reception hall—a vaulted ceiling with floor-to-ceiling glass walls, through which a brilliant afternoon sun shone. The court was in full attendance, and Jommy nudged first Tad then Zane at the number of pretty girls in attendance.

“Girls!” Zane said just loud enough for a few nobles nearby to overhear, causing a few odd glances and a few amused expressions.

“Behave,” said Godfrey. “These are the finest daughters in the Kingdom and you’re ill-educated louts.”

Tad said, “That’s ill-educated lout knights, thank you very much. Besides, who helped you pass that examination on geometry yesterday?”

Godfrey looked slightly embarrassed, but he said, “Very well. You’re well-educated louts.”

“Well-educated lout knights,” corrected Jommy.

The banter ceased when they reached their destined position, the center of a circle of large round tables, each well laden. Servers waited nearby to ensure that the nobility of Roldem and honored guests wouldn’t have to actually secure their own food and drink.

The royal family entered and everyone bowed. When the King reached the three guests of honor, he signaled to the Master of Ceremonies, who slammed his staff on the stone floor. “At their Royal Majesties’ pleasure, you are welcome!”

At once servers began loading up plates and filling cups. The boys had been instructed not to take any food or drink until after they left the King’s company. Tad and Jommy waited, while Zane watched with badly hidden alarm as the contents of the tables rapidly diminished.

The King spoke: “Your modesty does you well, youngster, but never argue with a king in public when he’s handing out rewards.”

Jommy blushed. “My deepest apology, Majesty.”

The King motioned with his right hand and a page appeared with a tray, upon which sat three small pouches. “The offices you’ve been granted come with some minor properties attached, from which you’ll derive an annual small stipend. This is your payment for this year.”

He looked at a royal courtier who stood nearby, and the man said, “A hundred sovereigns, Majesty.”

The King nodded, picked up one bag and handed it to Jommy, then the other two to Tad and Zane. “Your annuity can be picked up at the royal treasury each year on this date.”

The boys were speechless. A hundred Roldem sovereigns was worth well over three hundred common pieces of gold in the Vale of Dreams where they were raised. It was an income to match that of Miller Hodover at Stardock Town, the richest man Tad and Zane ever knew. Jommy had never known anyone who earned that sort of income. All three had the same thought at the same instant: they were rich!

The King said, “Go and enjoy the attention. It’s back to university for you this evening, and as I understand it, the monks are hardly impressed by titles and wealth.”

The boys bowed and retreated a step, then turned and moved into the crowd. Servan and Godfrey joined them, as Grandy made his way over to the five.

“Grandprey?” asked Tad.

Grandy shrugged. “My mother’s grandfather’s name. I wasn’t consulted.”

Jommy affected a bow. “Your Highness.”

Grandy said playfully, “Sir Jommy.”

“Speaking of names,” said Servan. “Just what sort of name is ‘Jommy’?”

Jommy shrugged. “It’s a family moniker. I’m really Jonathan, but my next older brother was a baby and couldn’t say it, so he called me ‘Jommy’ and it stuck. No one calls me Jonathan.”

Food appeared, carried by pages, and each young man helped himself to a plateful and a cup of ale. “Enjoy,” said Servan. “For at sundown, we’re back to the tender mercies of the Brothers of La-Timsa.”

“Yes,” said Tad with a smile, “but until then we have food, drink, and pretty girls to flirt with.”

Jommy’s head came up like a startled deer. “Girls!” he said as he glanced around the room. “Damn me, and I’m now a knight!”

The other five boys laughed. Jommy grinned, and said, “Until this morning I was a peasant lad with little to offer, but as of now I’m a handsome young knight with prospects, who happens to be a close friend of a royal prince. Now if you hooligans will excuse me, I’m going to see how many girls I can impress before we get dragged back to the university.”

“That’s ‘Sir Hooligan,’ to you,” said Tad, but he handed his barely started platter to a nearby page.

Zane started wolfing down the food and through a stuffed mouth said, “I’ll catch up to you in a minute!”

Zane finished the last bite then hurried off after his foster brothers. Godfrey glanced at Grandy and Servan. “May the gods protect the daughters of Roldem.”

Servan chuckled. “You’ve known those girls all your life, Godfrey. Feel sorry for the boys.”

Grandy laughed aloud.

V
alko raised his sword.

From the distant parapet of the family castle, his father returned the salute, welcoming a surviving son home from training. Hirea rode at Valko’s side. With training over, he had simply informed the son of the Camareen he would travel with him to his father’s estates, then move on to his own home, Talidan, a town closer to the mountains to the east. At a suitable distance behind them rode Hirea’s two retainers.

As they rode together, Hirea said, “It is time for plain speaking, young Valko.”

“The talk you spoke of that afternoon on the training floor,” countered the young warrior, “the one for which I waited in vain?”

“Such is the nature of time and circumstances,” said the old teacher. “I have little to say, and your father will tell you more. For the time being let me tell you that your mother hid things from you to prevent you from betraying her or yourself before this day. She and I have met, and she is a remarkable female. This is what we need you to know: everything you have been taught by your mother is true; everything you’ve been shown since you emerged from the Hiding is false.”

Valko’s head snapped around. He stared at the old man. “What…?”

“The bloodlust we feel at certain times, the urge to kill young, all of this is false. All of this has been forced upon us, but it is not the true Dasati way.”

Valko’s mouth hung open. No wonder the old warrior hadn’t been able to tell him this in a public place. His heart beat wildly.

“Your father will have more to say to you soon. Speak to no one about what I’ve just said, and do not ask me more,” said the old teacher. “Here we part ways, but believe me when I tell you the next day is crucial to your survival. When we meet again, you will understand why I’ve been so circumspect.” He waved once toward the distant castle, in salute to Valko’s father, then turned his varnin away from the cutoff road to the castle and motioned for his two retainers to follow him, leaving Valko alone on the road.

Valko watched them go, nonplussed. He thought about the dire things Hirea had said.
The next day is crucial to your survival
…He wondered what this meant. Certainly a returning son, tested and now trained, might prove a danger to his father; and Valko was probably a more dangerous opponent than any his father had faced in years, but he also knew that his father was probably the most dangerous foe he would face any time soon. Hirea might be a fine instructor, but his prime days were past; Aruke still was a swordsman to be feared.

Valko rode at a sedate pace, not wishing to appear too anxious. He reached the gate of the castle, noting that both doors had been
thrown wide for his return. He appreciated the gesture. Usually only one door would be opened for a single rider.

Inside the castle’s main yard, he saw his father standing on the balcony, looking down at him. A Lesser, his father’s estate manager, approached with eyes downcast and said, “Master Valko, your father wishes you to retire and rest. He will see you in his private chamber after you’ve eaten.”

Dismounting, Valko asked, “I’m not dining with him tonight?”

“No, master,” said the man with a slight cringe, as if expecting punishment for bearing what might be considered ill tidings. “He has other concerns for the moment, but wishes to see you as soon as circumstances permit. Food shall be brought to your room.”

Valko decided not to pursue the matter with the servant. He didn’t relish dining alone: time spent with the other nine surviving warriors in training had given him an appreciation of company, something he had lacked for most of his childhood.

He let the Lessers take away his mount, and slowly walked into his father’s great castle. Like all things Dasati, there was an assumption imbuing the style of the architecture that bigger meant more powerful. He realized that years of adding to the building, extending the coverage of the outer wall, and additional housing for retainers and Lessers, as well as housing for the other riders of the Sadharin should they be in residence, had created a position which was difficult to defend. As he entered the great double doors that dominated the courtyard below, he realized he could come up with at least three, if not more, sound plans to siege or storm his father’s estate.

He determined that when he ruled, his first order of business would be to correct these oversights and shortcomings of design.

He walked through the vast halls and everywhere he looked he saw nothing but Dasati tradition: massive, graceless columns, smooth walls with precisely fitted stones stretching as far as the eye could see, which meant there were many blind spots along the walls because of the lack of archers’ ports. It would by no means be easy to take this ancient castle, but it was far from impossible. As he mounted
the stairway to the family quarters he decided that his best course of action would be to simply mount more guards and lookouts on the walls at strategic locations.

He reached his own quarters and wondered if every son saw his father’s castle as both a place of haven and a prize to be taken. Pushing open the door, he found that his father had had his rooms refurbished. The simple bed he had last slept in here had been replaced by a large bed piled high with furs that dominated the room. Where there had been a plain chest in which he had kept his armor there was now an ornately carved blackwood chest and a mannequin upon which to place his armor. Brightly colored tapestries adorned the walls, adding warmth both for the body and eye.

Lessers hurried in to help the young warrior remove his armor and others carried in a large tub in which he could bathe. He quickly stripped off his armor, realizing that he was sore, tired, and in need of the bath.

As he settled into the hot water, servants instantly set about applying sweet-smelling unguents to his hair and they started to wash his body with soft cloths. Valko had never been afforded such luxurious treatment in his life, and barely knew how to react.

After he had bathed, a selection of richly appointed robes were presented, and he chose a dark blue one with white piping and abstract designs in golden thread that were very pleasing to his eye.

As the tub was carried away, food was carried into the room on a large table shouldered by four male Lessers. Upon it was a wide variety of fare, and several wines and ales.

Valko found himself ravenous from the long ride, and set to without hesitation. As he ate, the servants retired, leaving him with one attendant, a young female of unusual beauty, who waited, silent and patient, until he had finished eating. Then she said softly, “I am here for my young lord’s pleasure. I have been instructed that I may not declare so that should I conceive, the child will have no right to claim kinship.”

Valko studied the young woman, and realized that as much as
he desired to couple with her, his father’s odd behavior and Hirea’s warning weighed on his mind. Finally he said, “Not tonight…What is your name?”

“Naila, my lord.”

“I may send for you tomorrow night, but right now I need rest.”

“As the young lord wishes.” She bowed, then asked, “Do you wish me to leave or stay?”

“Stay while I finish eating, and tell me about my father’s household. What has occurred during my absence?”

“I’m sure there are others better able to tell you than I.”

“No doubt,” said Valko, indicating with a pat of his hand that the girl should sit next to him. “But until then, I would prefer to listen to your words. Certainly you have eyes to see and ears to hear; what have you observed while I was away?”

Not entirely sure how to answer, the Lesser woman began to recite a long litany of castle gossip, rumors, and speculation, most of which Valko found innocuous and boring. But once in a while she said something that piqued his interest, and after a few questions, she yielded up a few useful facts.

On balance, he considered, this was a far more profitable encounter than any mere coupling. He ignored his body’s demand to take the girl, and kept asking questions late into the night, long after he finished eating.

The knock came in the middle of the night. Jommy was the first to rouse, as the door opened and Brother Kynan entered. “Get dressed. Be silent,” he instructed the three young men.

Jommy glanced at Servan who shrugged. Godfrey blinked like a man coming out of a stupor.

By the time they were dressed, they discovered Tad, Zane, and Grandy waiting silently outside the door, under the monk’s watchful gaze. He held a finger to his lips then motioned for the six students to follow him.

They managed to reach their destination, the Proctor’s office, without uttering a word, but once through the door, Godfrey couldn’t restrain himself. “What time is it?” he whispered to Servan.

Servan’s eyes widened slightly in warning, but a voice from within the dark room said, “An hour after midnight, I should think.”

Father Elias opened a shuttered lantern, and revealed himself behind the Proctor’s desk. “Wait outside, Brother, if you please,” he said to Brother Kynan.

Kynan nodded once and left the room.

The abbot stood and said, “From what I’ve heard, it appears you six have sorted out your differences. Is this true?”

Jommy exchanged glances with Servan and nodded once, and Servan said, “Yes, Father. We’ve come to an…accommodation.”

“Good. I was hoping for friendship, but I’ll settle for a respectful truce. Now, the reason you’re here is for me to say goodbye.”

The boys looked at one another, and Jommy said, “Father, are you leaving?”

“No, you are,” the abbot said. “There are things I am not free to tell you, but this you can know now.

“You six are knights of the Roldemish Court, and as such you have certain duties as well as the privileges that came with your rank.

“You also are six gifted young men with bright futures.”

To Grandy, he said, “You above all the others, my prince, have greater responsibility and a higher duty.”

Jommy began to look uncomfortable and this didn’t escape the abbot’s notice. He smiled. “Fear not, young Jonathan. I’ve had discussions with Turhan Bey regarding your future. He has agreed to your next assignment.”

At the word “assignment” Jommy, Tad, and Zane all got tense. The abbot hadn’t said in so many words that these instructions were from the Conclave, but he might as well have done.

“You are all going to serve in the army for a while.”

The students displayed varying degrees of disbelief.

“The army?” said Grandy.

“Your father has two sons in the navy already, young prince. Roldem needs generals as much as she needs admirals, and you have done well.” To Jommy, Tad, and Zane, he said, “You three have done especially well in the short time you’ve been here, despite your lack of any previous education.

“It wasn’t necessary for us to turn you into scholars, just make sure you were a little more refined when you left us than you were when you arrived. Your training in the army is another such exercise, where you will learn the military mind-set and how to recognize true leadership.

“Toward that end, you are all commissioned as junior lieutenants in the First Army, the King’s Own. A wagon awaits you outside, in which you will be taken to the docks, where you will find a ship waiting to take you to Inaska. It seems some robber baron or another from Bardac’s Holdfast has invaded Aranor, seeking to take advantage of the somewhat chaotic situation there since we annexed Olasko into the Kingdom.

“You’re going to be fine young officers and help General Bertrand drive these raiders back across the border.” He bowed his head. “May La-Timsa protect you. Long live Roldem.”

“Long live Roldem,” Servan, Godfrey, and Grandy responded, while the three boys from Sorcerer’s Isle weakly joined in at the last.

Outside the door Brother Kynan was waiting for them. He showed them down the hall to the stabling yard, where a wagon waited.

“What about our things?” Servan asked.

“You will be given everything you need,” answered the taciturn monk, and when the six boys were in the wagon, he motioned for the driver to set off.

Pug awoke with a start in the small room in the back of Kastor’s shop. Something was different: was it something outside? He couldn’t hear any sound that should have awakened him. It was dark and no one else moved, though Bek occasionally tossed in his sleep, from dreams he never could remember.

Then Pug realized the difference he sensed wasn’t anything outside, but rather from something inside. Inside himself. He had changed. He stood up and went to the window and looked out.

Suddenly he was seeing this world as a Dasati would see it! He didn’t have words to describe what he witnessed. There were colors beyond the spectrum of violet and red, shimmering energies that now were visible; they were breathtaking.

In the night sky he saw stars that would be invisible to human eyes, their presence revealed by energies no man of Midkemia could apprehend. They were without light, but he could see their heat, so many miles distant that no number could encompass it.

Suddenly a voice from behind him said, “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

Pug hadn’t heard Ralan Bek stir, let alone wake and come to stand behind him. The fact that he couldn’t detect the youngster’s presence anymore disturbed Pug. He kept his surprise under control and said instead, “Yes, it’s amazing.”

“I’m not going back,” said the young warrior.

“Where?”

“To our world, Midkemia. I…don’t belong there.”

“You belong here?”

Bek said nothing for a while, staring up into the sky, then at last he said, “No. Not here, either. I belong in the next place, where we’re going.”

“How do you know that?” asked Pug.

“I don’t know how,” Bek replied. “I just know.”

Pug fell silent. He watched Bek gaze at the sky for a moment longer, then he returned to his pallet. Lying there in the dark, while Bek gazed out of the window, Pug wondered at his own mad plan. He knew it was his own, because those messages had all been in his handwriting, and for nearly fifty years not one had proven to be bad advice.