“Chancellor, I will concern myself with whatever pleases me,” Intila said. “And since you are in a mood for exchanging advice, here is some for you. Do not
ever
question my loyalty again.”
“Oh please,” Vigild sneered. “Spare me your displays of self-importance. They’re tedious and predictable. I do not care for your honor; I care for the throne. The Emperor might have made his promises to the Empress, but he has not changed his mind about what is to happen to these traitors. You, just like the rest of us, are expected to understand this.”
A rat’s squeak echoed from some dark corner as Intila mulled over Vigild’s words. That the Emperor wanted Doric and the other prisoners dead was to be expected. That Vigild was so casual about it, not so much.
“This is foolish,” Intila said after a while. “And it’s not just about the Empress. If these men die so soon, it will look like the Emperor was lying. Something else for the Great Houses to resent him for. I’ll have nothing to do with it.” Intila turned on his heel. “I am removing my Legionaries from this dungeon. If the traitors die, it’ll be
your
responsibility, not mine.”
“As you prefer,” Vigild replied with a vestige of a smile. “I will fetch additional Paladins immediately.”
The night was still dark when they left Alman’s shack, but the streets were much calmer. There wasn’t a single person in sight. Even the cats and dogs seemed to have quieted down.
“My brother doesn’t live far,” Alman said, turning a corner.
“Isn’t it a bit late?” Fadan asked. “I mean, he’s probably resting. I can come back tomorrow.”
Fadan wasn’t truly sure he could. After two consecutive days of absence from the Palace, he was probably facing a severe punishment. However, if this man was going to be his Magic tutor, Fadan would much rather meet him in a good mood.
“Don’t worry,” Alman replied. “Sabium is a nocturnal creature. Sometimes I think the moon is the brightest thing he can handle.”
They turned into an alley that looked exactly like the one where the sailors had attacked Fadan, and Alman climbed the wooden staircase of a three story building.
“This is it,” Alman said as he reached the top of the stairs. “I found this attic for him a few years ago. It won’t be much of a classroom, but the landlord doesn’t ask any questions.” He knocked twice on the door. “Oh, one more thing. Let me do the talking, alright? Sabium doesn’t really…
approve
of some of my ideas.”
“Who is it?” someone asked from inside the house. The voice did not sound thrilled by the intrusion.
“Sabium, it’s me,” Alman whispered.
The door swung open, revealing a tall man wearing black robes. He inspected Fadan with a quick, disapproving glance.
“What is this?” Sabium asked. “What do you want?”
“Not out here,” Alman replied. “Let us in.”
“I am
busy
,” Sabium said without moving an inch.
“Well, you’re making a pause,” Alman said, rushing past him and dragging Fadan by the sleeve.
Sabium grumbled something but closed the door behind him. The place was wide and spacious, but the slanted ceiling was so low you could only stand up in the middle of the room. Window shutters were closed, and the only light came from a couple of candles melting over a mess of parchment on a desk. There was a bed in one corner – actually, not a bed, just a straw mattress – and several cabinets filled with so many books its shelves arched downwards.
“Who is that?” Sabium asked, waving towards Fadan. “Why would you bring someone here?”
“Shut up and let me talk,” Alman said. “Do you recognize him?”
“Of course I don’t recognize him,” Sabium said. “I just asked you who he is.”
“How can you not… will you
look
at him?”
Sabium glanced at Fadan, who was inspecting the piles of books with his mouth open, not paying the least bit of attention to the squabbling brothers.
“Don’t tell me it’s another damned stowaway,” Sabium said. “I will not babysit some illiterate orphan for you.”
“Stowaway?” Alman asked. “It’s the Prince, you numbskull.”
“The what!?” Sabium said.
Fadan turned to the old Mage. “My name is Fadan Patros. I’m the Crown-Prince of Arrel.”
There was a moment of silence, then Sabium burst out laughing. “That’s amazing!” he said, then faced his brother. “He’s good. He’s really good.”
Alman gave his brother a serious look but didn’t say anything. Fadan stepped forward.
“This is not an act,” Fadan said. “I really am the Prince.”
Sabium’s laughter quieted and turned into a weak smile before disappearing entirely. He looked from Fadan to his brother. “You’re serious?” he asked.
Alman nodded.
“Ava mother…” Sabium muttered. “What… why?”
“I’m here because I need your help, Lord Sabium,” Fadan said, taking another step forward.
“
My
help?” Sabium asked his brother.
“That’s right,” Alman said, smiling. “His majesty possesses the Talent. He wants you to teach him. Discretely.”
“You have the Talent?” Sabium asked Fadan. He was dumbfounded.
“You can test me if you want,” the Prince replied.
“You’re mad!” Sabium said. “You’re both mad. The Emperor will find out. We’ll be caught, all three of us. We’ll hang.”
“You have nothing to worry about,” Fadan assured him. “I have my ways to enter and leave the Citadel unseen. No one will follow me.”
“How could you possibly be sure?” Sabium asked. “The Emperor’s spies are everywhere.”
“My father has many enemies, but I’m not one of them,” Fadan said calmly. “He always worried that my brother would be a bad influence on me, but Aric is gone.” He shrugged. “My father has nothing left to worry about.”
“You’re not one of your father’s enemies?” Sabium laughed in disbelief. “You just walked into my house with a member of the rebellion!”
“A what?” Fadan asked.
Alman covered his eyes. “Goddess damn it, Sabium…”
“Oh, you didn’t know?” Sabium asked. “My brother here colludes with rebels all the time, even though it will most likely end up leading the Paladins back to me.
A Mage!
”
Fadan clenched his teeth. This was bad. Really bad. Releasing Doric from jail was one thing. Working with the people who wanted to murder his father was something else entirely.
“You should have told me this,” Fadan said.
“Will you both please calm down?” Alman pleaded. “All I do is help the rebellion with supplies. I’ve never even met any of them in person. They’re too cautious.”
“And you’re not cautious enough,” Sabium said.
“I agree,” Fadan said. “This was foolish. I need to leave.”
The Prince started towards the door nervously, but Alman blocked his way.
“Wait,” the old man said. “Please, just listen to me.”
Fadan exhaled loudly, but he waited.
“Fine, it’s true,” Alman said. “I’m with the rebels, but my brother isn’t. If you want, I’ll just disappear. You’ll never see me again. There will be fresh supplies of Runium in my brother’s cabinets, but you won’t even know how they got there. I promise.”
“That’s all very fine,” Sabium said. “But I won’t risk it. I refuse to train him.”
Alman turned away from Fadan and walked to his brother. “The boy sneaked out from the Citadel and found his way to the Docks in the middle of the night for a vial of Runium. You think he’ll just give up Magic because you said no?” He turned to Fadan. “Be honest, son. Are you going to forget about your Talent?”
The Prince hesitated a little but ended up shaking his head. “No,” he replied.
“Of course not,” Alman continued. “The last time he tried to buy Runium, I found him half-conscious in an alley. Next time he’ll probably get himself killed, but even if he does get lucky and manages to go back home with a bottle of Runium, what do you think will happen?”
Sabium didn’t reply right away. He shot his deep frown at Fadan as if the Prince was guilty of all his misery.
“Come on,” Alman insisted. “What do you think will happen?”
“Stupid kid will probably misfire a spell and blow himself up,” Sabium finally replied. “If he doesn’t poison himself first.”
Alman opened his arms, closing his argument while Sabium walked to a chair and sunk into it.
There was a moment of silence as the three of them exchanged glances. Fadan considered leaving. He wanted to learn Magic, not join the rebellion against his father. But, then again, having a
real
Mage to teach him was too good of an opportunity to pass on.
“Alright,” Sabium said. “I’ll teach him. But if I get a single whiff of the Paladins, none of you will ever see me again.”
“Fantastic!” Alman clapped triumphantly and turned to Fadan. “What do you say, your majesty? I will vanish into thin air. I guarantee it.”
“If you think this will lead me to join your rebellion, you can forget about it,” Fadan said. “I will not plot to murder my own father.”
“Maybe not,” Alman said. “Maybe the rebellion doesn’t even have to murder your father. Replacing him with you would be more than enough for me.” He smiled.
Fadan frowned. “I said I will not join the rebellion.”
“And I said I would disappear,” Alman said, moving towards the door. “The two of you are free to carry out your lessons.”
Chapter 12
Aric led Leth and Clea up a tight, dark stairwell. Sometimes Lamash seemed like the crumbling castle of some bankrupt lordling, but then an opened door would lead to a gleaming hall with a ceiling as tall as a tower that would rise up before you. It was obvious that no architect had ever planned any of its design. The building had just gradually taken shape throughout the centuries as needed. You could even tell the older corridors from the younger by their wall’s particular shade of amber.
“I’m not insane,” Aric told them in a low voice. “I know what I saw.”
“We believe you,” Clea said hesitantly. “But… where are you taking us?”
“I’m not taking you anywhere,” Aric replied, opening a door at the top of the stairwell. “You two are just following me.”
They crossed the door into a barely lit storage room with flour bags in one corner and old wine barrels covering an entire wall.
“Well,” Leth said, wiping a spider web from his head with a grimace, “you did tell us you saw a woman petting a Dragon. Forgive us for wanting to make sure you didn’t bump your head into something.”
“My head is fine,” Aric assured him.
“That’s good to know,” Clea said. “So why are we here?”
“Yeah,” Leth agreed. “And why are we whispering?”
Aric didn’t even acknowledge the questions. He opened a massive chest and dove inside, leaving Leth and Clea to exchange a confused glance.
“There!” Aric said, his legs the only visible part of his body. “I knew it was here.” He reemerged with a victorious smile on his face and a large parcel in his hands.
“What’s that?” Leth asked.
“Dried ostrich meat,” Aric replied, leaving for the door. “Geric loves it.”
“Who’s Geric?” Clea asked.
“My cat,” Aric replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Wait.” Clea raised her hands. “You
named
it?”
“Of course I named it,” Aric said. “And don’t just stand there, the cooks might come in any moment.” He fled the room, trotting down the stairs.
Eyes widened, Leth and Clea looked over their shoulders to what they now realized was the front door to that storage room, then raced after Aric, closing the smaller backdoor behind them.
“You could have warned us we were aiding you in stealing from the kitchens,” Clea said, catching up to Aric.
“I was going to,” Aric replied, “but you seemed far more interested in my account of what happened in the desert.”
“Yeah, about that,” Leth said. “You’re not going to tell that to Saruk or anyone else, are you?”
Aric shrugged. “I have to.”
The stairwell came to an end and Aric turned left towards a door so small they had to duck to get through it. On the other side, the desert swathed them in hot air like a baking oven.
“I really don’t think you do,” Leth said. “In fact,you probably shouldn’t.” He nearly didn’t finish the sentence as a lean shadow darted past, sending him jumping backwards. “What th
e‒
?”
“There you are,” Aric said, wrapping both arms around the huge cat. The two of them wrestled, Geric’s paws slapping Aric around his neck. “Look what I got for you, look. What’s this? Oh, you like this, don’t you?” The parcel was barely open when Geric stuck his snout inside, devouring its content. Aric giggled.
Clea neared Aric. “Will he bite me?” she asked, reaching out for the cat.
“Of course not,” Aric assured her. “Go ahead.”
Carefully, she moved her hand closer to Geric’s fur. When her fingers brushed against the cat’s neck, he snapped and one of his paws whipped Clea’s hand away. The large cat finished his message with a hiss before diving back to his food.
“Alright…” Aric said, “maybe not while he eats.”
“Can we please get back to the matter at hand?” Leth demanded.
Aric sighed as he stood back up, but he complied. “What do you want me to do? Keep this a secret?”
“Huh… yes.”
“Are you serious?” Aric couldn’t believe it. “There is a crazy Witch out there that can tame Dragons. The Guild has to do something about it.”
Leth closed his eyes and pressed his temples as if a crushing headache had just struck him. “You do realize that if you start blabbering about women wandering around the desert with their Dragon pets, you’ll be the laughing stock of the whole fortress. If you’re lucky.”
Geric had just finished eating and he was happily licking around his own mouth. Aric picked up the now empty parcel and scratched behind Geric’s ear.
“Don’t worry,” he told Leth. “I’ll be fine.”
“So…” Saruk tried to weigh his words most carefully. “This woman was…
petting
the Dragon. Is that it?”
Somewhere along the line of recruits came a muffled laugh.
“She wasn’t petting him,” Aric replied. He obviously didn’t appreciate Saruk’s condescending tone.
“And you say this woman was Eliran?” Saruk had a suspicious eyebrow raised. “The one from the scary bedtime stories.”
Aric’s mouth moved silently a couple of times. “I can’t be sure it really was Eliran,” he finally admitted. “But she was standing very close to the Dragon and then… reached out with her arm.”
“I see.” He obviously didn’t. “And the Dragon simply stood there?”
Aric exhaled loudly, his cheeks glowing red. “You know I tagged a Dragon, your Hunters traced my Seeker arrow back to it.”
“That’s right,” Saruk agreed. “A Mahari Black Dread no less. Very impressive.”
“Then why would I lie about the rest?”
“Because you’ve lost your marbles,” Ashur said.
The crowd of recruits burst into laughter. Even Saruk had to hide a smile.
Feeling like there wasn’t a hole deep enough for him to hide in, Aric looked to his left and found Clea trying to smile reassuringly at him. She was doing a terrible job of it.
“Listen,” Saruk said, his hands asking for quiet. “Sometimes, when you’re out there on your own, the desert plays tricks with our heads. Veteran Hunters with years of experience have come back from patrols swearing they had found the Goddess herself. My own instructor, to the day he died, vowed that he had found the edge of the desert. That there was a city there with towers made of gold reaching up to the sun, and that some of the old gods still wandered there. As Grand-Master Sylene says - It comes with the job.”
Aric didn’t reply. He knew what he had seen, but it was clear that the conversation was over. Saruk turned his back on Aric, ordering the Company to follow him out into the corridors. What else was he supposed to do?
Each team formed a line behind the instructor, marching down the great staircase leading to the main hall. Tharius seemed to have grown two inches overnight. He paraded himself along Lamash’s hallways with his now enormous team in tow as if he owned the entire Guild.
It was alright, Aric told himself. If someone deserved to gloat a bit, it was certainly Tharius. Ashur, however, wasn’t as forgiving.
“Look at that idiot,” Aric heard him whisper to Prion and Jullion. “Prancing around like a peacock.”
It was funny how quickly Ashur’s attention had shifted from Aric to Tharius, and it wasn’t just him. Tharius seemed to be the only thing everyone in the Company talked about since he had tagged a Dragon all by himself. It felt kind of unfair, though. After all, hadn’t Aric done exactly the same?
Saruk led the Company to the lower levels of Lamash. The second challenge was to take place inside a damp cave somewhere within the mountain.
The bowels of the fortress were a frightfully large and dark place, and it was no wonder the recruits were forbidden to access them on their own. One could easily get lost in the mess of man-made tunnels and natural caves. Saruk had even claimed that those who got lost in there were rarely found.
“This challenge is called The Silent Retrieval,” Saruk said when they reached a large hollow where the sun could be seen shining through a crevice miles above them. “Your goal is to rescue a straw man laid inside. The trick will be to do it without waking up the bats sleeping within.”
“Bats?” Lyra asked, grimacing.
“That’s right,” Saruk replied. “They’re mostly harmless.
Mostly
. But they won’t attack you if they remain asleep, which is exactly the point of the challenge. There are four candidates still in the race to become Captain. Only three will remain by the end of today. Good luck.”
Each team was placed in a different chamber waiting for their turn to go in. Who would go first and who would go last, Aric did not know. He waited with Leth and Clea by the torchlight for well over an hour before Saruk came and told them their turn was up.
As they prepared to go in, Aric couldn’t tell which was harder; dealing with the butterflies in his stomach, or pretending like he wasn’t nervous at all in front of Clea.
“Are you alright?” she asked, firmly tying the leather straps around her boots.
“Sure,” Aric replied, smiling weakly.
The challenge, however, went much smoother than Aric would have ever guessed. Clea seemed to feel quite comfortable in the darkness, and since lighting a torch was out of the question, Aric was more than okay with letting her lead the way. They were in and out in a breeze, and Aric was incredibly proud that none of them made a single sound. No one slipped or kicked a loose pebble. It was, as Saruk put it, a clean rescue. The only question was, had they been fast enough?
They were ordered to return to the Company’s quarters and wait for the results. By the time Saruk arrived with a rolled piece of parchment in his hand, Aric had nearly carved a trench in the stone floor of the common room from walking back and forth.
Please let us win, please…
Aric still wasn’t sure if he really wanted to be Captain, to have all that responsibility fall upon his shoulders, but the glory of winning the competition, however, was something he really wouldn’t mind. For the last couple of days, he had found himself daydreaming of the moment that Saruk raised his hand in the air and announced him as the Captain of the twenty third Company of Dragon Hunters. In Aric’s mind, the announcement was always followed by loud cheers and applause. Sometimes the whole Company would rush to hug him, other times they carried him upon their shoulders across Lamash. No matter how the news was received, though, the best part was always the way Clea’s smile glowed when their eyes met.
Saruk opened his parchment roll and cleared his throat as every set of eyes locked on him. “The winner of this challenge,” he said, “is team Ashur.”
Jullion and Prion jumped, screaming victoriously, grabbing and shaking a shock-frozen Ashur. Everyone else looked stunned.
“Oh, please…” Leth begged uselessly. “Not him.”
Aric agreed, but that wasn’t the worst part. Losing would be bad in any case, but now it would mean becoming part of Ashur’s team.
Oh, Goddess…
“Congratulations, boys,” Saruk said over the excited howls of Jullion and Prion. “Outstanding work.”
Trying to look as if it didn’t really matter, Ashur thanked Saruk, then leered at the other team leaders.
“Now, the losers,” Saruk continued.
Like a spell, those words made the whole room become silent in a flash. Aric saw Trissa close her eyes and move her lips in a silent prayer. Even Tharius had lost his recent smirk.
“I really wasn’t expecting this, but…” Saruk said.
Oh, Goddess… he means me.
“The losers are…” He made a look as if he was apologizing to the parchment roll. “Team Tharius.”
“WHAT?!”
Every pair of eyes turned to Tharius. The poor boy was looking as if he had just been stabbed in the gut. Even his color was gone. Behind him, everyone on his team looked speechless. It was such a pitiful sight Aric even refrained from giving a sigh of relief.
“Yeah,” Saruk said. “I didn’t see that one coming either.” He rolled the parchment containing the results and addressed the entire group. “Overall, everyone did well. I’m actually impressed. It came down to speed, and your team was the slowest, Tharius.”
“But, but…” Tharius mumbled.