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Authors: Emma Mickley

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BOOK: The Lord Son's Travels
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Adrien frowned.
 
"I spoke improperly.
 
They were angry at my interference."
 
But his tone was thoughtful.

"Partly, yes, but mostly from fear.
 
Lord Son," the Counselor was
becoming agitated at the thought, "We are a nation of hearth cats.
 
We are content from so much peace and
prosperity.
 
Would we be willing to
fight if necessary?
 
Would they be
able to stir themselves to any reaction to a threat from beyond our borders?
Would the Lord King?"
 
He
flushed, realizing too late the error of his words.
 
He bowed his head, waiting for the royal's angry reply.
 
Instead, Adrien only nodded
absent-mindedly.

Tarien couldn't have known similar thoughts had
been crossing the mind of the military commander. Since his childhood Adrien
had been aware of the Allè-dôn disconnect from the rest of the Eastlands.
 
As a youth he had raged against the
contentment that oozed over everyone he knew like a highly viscous glue until
the time, he had recently recognized, it had engulfed him too.
 

Adrien returned his attention to the distraught
advisor, and nodded for him to continue.
 

Tarien added, confidence restored, "Those
nations we discussed are not the only ones at risk."
 
Adrien nodded encouragement again.
 
Tarien's heart soared at the success of
his hastily wrought plan.
 
"Other kingdoms have found agents working to poison their peace and
wreak havoc."

"What is the purpose of these actions?"
Adrien demanded.
 

"You know that a few disturbances cunningly
placed can topple even the strongest government.
 
The purpose is chaos, Adrien.
 
Soon they may succeed in these plans, and our allies will
fall."

Adrien grew agitated. "Who is behind
this?
 
Do our agents
know?"
 
He paused.
 
“What of Allè-dôn?
 
Are there agents here?” Adrien waited
for answers barely controlling his impatience.
 
Finally the old man spoke.

"These agents are coming from the West. I
know not if any are here yet." he said softly.
 
Adrien couldn't respond, only gape at him in disbelief.

Their world was at peace, and had been so as long
as anyone could say.
 
Before this
time of rationality and order though, warfare and suffering had raged all
across the Eastlands.
 
No one knows
where the first settlers into the Eastlands came from, but when they found this
protected rich valley, they fought viciously for their individual claims.
 
During the midst of the confusion, a
strong force grew in the heights of the mountains forming the unexplored
western border.
 
At first, this power
only watched the chaos greedily.
 
Eventually, though, its lust for power overcame it, and this force,
called Skranteen by the terrified settlers, dove into their settlements and
took what it could in wealth and lives.
 
The settlers finally banded together and fought hard against
this monstrous new enemy.
  
With determination, courage, and the help of those kind friends the new
residents met during their settlement, the evil was contained again in the
western mountains from which it had sprung.
 
The victors settled into the peaceful kingdoms found in the
Eastlands today, with tales of good and evil, courage and wickedness enough to
never completely fill the ears of their attentive descendants.
 
Not forgotten, the terror of Skranteen
still could be found buried in the back of the hearts of all the residents of
the Eastlands today.

Tarien gently touched the shoulder of the young
royal, shocking him back out of his reverie.
 
Adrien stared at the old man, the distress of his words
still apparent on his face.
 
Tarien
held his gaze for a minute, then broke the connection, and strode off purposely
from their meeting niche down the stone corridor.
 
His footsteps echoed in the vast lonely hall.

"Counselor!"
 
Adrien called sharply, racing from the niche to watch the
retreating back in its long ceremonial robes.

Tarien didn't break his stride.
 
"You know what to do, Lord
Son!
 
Speak to your
father!"
 
he called
back, and disappeared through
the door into the main hall.

 
 

Chapter 2

 

"Well, my little brother!" Adräe Lord
Heir bellowed happily.
 
He hefted
his overflowing cup of ale in the direction of his younger sibling and drank
deeply.
 

Adrien stood over the elder man and waited,
urging himself to patience.
 
While
the Lord Heir guzzled his drink, Adrien took a moment to examine his
surroundings.
 
They had just come
from the weekly Commoners' Day at Court.
 
It had been a tradition of old that the royal family receive all
citizens openly on this day: offering advice, ruling on disputes, or more
likely, kissing babies and warmly shaking the hands of the aged.
 
Adräe, who never missed Commoners' Day,
had been shocked by the appearance of his younger brother that morning in the
Throne Room.
 
After the last of the
citizens had been greeted and were gone, Adräe had invited his brother to share
the day's main meal with himself and his family, and was pleasantly gratified
when the offer was accepted.
 

The weather was perfect for a late winter day, so
Adräe decided to take his meal outside.
 
They were sprawled out on the archery green behind the Capital,
reminding Adrien of the battle camps of his scouting days.
 
A set of flaming red tents had been
erected to protect the royal family from the weak winter sun, and hide the
servants and their preparations for the meal. Adräe had forsaken the coverings
and stretched out in the sun with a now half-empty cup and one servant
stationed at his side.
 
A few yards
away, his wife the Lady Heir played with their twin toddler sons in the shade
of an open-sided tent.
 
A pair of
her maidens had found an old leather ball and were gaily tossing it back and
forth, keenly aware of the eyes of the Royal Guards watching with
pleasure.
 
A large table had been
set roughly in the center of the scene, with a growing heap of succulently
scented meats and side dishes.

"Where have you been keeping yourself?"
Adräe continued, eyeing Adrien in consternation.
 
All of the others had changed from the formal clothes of the
morning into less constrictive wear, except for Adrien.
 
He still wore the formal black uniform
of his position, his ceremonial empty scabbard at his side.

"My duties," Adrien replied
solemnly.
 
He still stood in front
of his reclined brother, refusing his invitation to share his sunny spot on the
ground.
 

"Yes, you still are playing soldier, aren't
you?" Adräe replied with a chuckle.
 
"What brings you to the Capital today?
 
Its about time, by the by, Mother was becoming very worried
about you!"

"Mother worries too much," his brother
replied wearily.
 
A servant delivered
a lawn chaise, which Adrien accepted and placed next to his brother.
 
He twisted in the seat to face the rest
of the family gathering, noting his sister-in-law had pulled one of the young
boys to his feet and was trying to encourage the boy to stand.
 
She felt his attention on her, turned
and waved gaily.
 
The little royal
lost his footing at the moment of his mother's inattention and fell on his
bottom with a look of surprise.
 
Adrien's lips turned up a bit at the sight.

Adräe watched his brother observing his children,
and continued with a grin.
 
“Mother
has had a letter from Isabeau.
 
When will you two finally make this marriage?"

"Tomorrow if Mother had her way,"
Adrien replied with an air of disdain.
  
"Will she be joining us for dinner?"

Adräe answered with a shrug, "I believe
so.
 
She is resting now.
 
Father is meeting with Lord Pendot of
the Northern Hills.
 
I plead a
head-ache and escaped."

"Have you meet with the Counselors since
their last session?" Adrien asked casually, accepting a drink from a
servant.

Adräe chuckled out loud.
 
He pulled himself to a seated position
next to his brother, and continued the conversation in a lower tone of
voice.
 
"Yes, I've heard about
your display.
 
Really, Adrien, to
make a scene like that in the Chamber.
 
I heard that Father had a quite a fit about it!"

"What do you think of the news?" Adrien
asked.
 
His brother shrugged.
 

"Meaningless.
 
There are always skirmishes, little brother.
 
They keep the nobility from getting too
bored.
 
I don't see why it should
concern you so much."
 
He eyed
his brother meaningfully.
 
"Unless you are developing an interest in politics in your old
age.
 
Or have you decided to boot
me out and become the Lord Heir?"
 
His eyes gleamed as Adrien shook his head in disagreement.
 
They fell silent for a minute.
 
Adrien half rose to leave, then paused
as if an idea had just come to him.

"Brother?" he started hesitantly. Adräe
cocked his head, focusing his attention back on the younger man.
 
"What if I took a few of my best
men for a scout towards Brannon?
 
We can leave and be back discreetly in a matter of weeks."

 
Adräe leaned his head back and guffawed loudly.
 
His wife turned abruptly to gape in
surprise as the guards reflectively tightened their grasps on the handles of
their swords.
 
Adrien crossed his
arms in consternation as his older brother laughed.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, wiping
his eyes.
 
"If you want to
take a lark, Adrien, I have no problem with that, but I doubt that Father will
agree.
 
Mother will kill him for
letting you wander the Eastlands free and easy."

Adrien drew himself to his full height.
 
"I spoke seriously, Adräe,"
he declared in a cold, emotionless voice.
 
"I see trouble there that can only produce danger for
Allè-dôn."

"Oh, Adrien!" his brother chastised in
return.
 
"Why must you treat
everything so seriously?
 
It's not
your worry what happens half-way across the world!
 
If you want to save Allè-dôn, do me the favor and smooth over
the Olber faction for me.
 
They've
been cantankerous ever since we gave Lord Nesbet the wine monopoly instead last
year."

Adrien ignored his words, lost in his own
thoughts.
 
He hadn't expected his
near-sighted brother would jump at his words or his offer, though he had
hoped.
 
He sighed and rose to his
feet.

"I must go to my evening duty,
brother," he said.
 
"Give
our parents my apologies."
 
He
dropped his half-full cup on a nearby table. Adräe stumbled to his feet and
placed a soft restraining hand on Adrien's shoulder.

"You should not worry about these things so
much," he advised with a comforting smile.
 
"Lady forbid, if anything should ever threaten
Allè-dôn, we are strong and ready to defend what is ours."

Adrien touched the emblem over his breast gently
in reply.
 
"I know our
strength, brother.
 
Bid your lady
good evening for me please, and the young lords, too."

"Come by one of these evenings when you are
free," Adräe urged.
 
"The
boys miss playing with their uncle."
 
He watched the two toddlers, who had been carried by their mother's
maidens to the feast table to pick and choose from the tempting spread.
 
"Two happy, healthy Heirs, Adrien,
was ever a royal so lucky!
 
And
maybe," he confided in a whisper, "another to come.
 
I doubt you should ever have to wear
the crown and suffer these dreadful royal duties you hate so much, little
brother!
 
Lucky you, you may play soldier
until the end of your days!"

Adrien nodded, shook his brother's hand, and made
a hasty exit, mind already forming the next stage of a murky plan.

BOOK: The Lord Son's Travels
9.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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