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Corrandion, Corridane
I am JT, Ringer, nutjob, and archer, in that order. I like animated films, epic films, book films, movie music, folk music, and the occasional random other thing. I make friends by accident and like it that way...

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09 December 2013

Price of a Throne: Chapter 10




Chapter 10

The drink he had ordered had come, and Torlan downed it in one swallow and sent the cup back with the servant who had brought it. The sword had come moments later, and was now laying on the bed which was practically the only furniture in the room. No one had asked any questions, like good servants, and the king had soon been left to his own devices.
    He left the sword lying where it was and moved to stand by the window, which faced out to the East, the same direction he had returned from just a few hours before. Standing with his hands linked behind his back, he shook his head slowly, as if resigning himself to some action he did not wish to take.
    “Oh Railon, I wish that you would return now and not when you would. For I fear I have not the strength within me to last until that day.” Then he fell silent once more, but not for long. Crossing back over to the large bed in the center of the room, he took up the sword he had sent for. Studying it with the eye of a master craftsman, he remarked “You are a good blade, stout and true. You have served me well in the past. Do not fail me in the end if it comes to that.” Since he had taken off his sheath, he laid the sword down again, stepping away as if the sight of it brought some sadness to his mind. Suddenly he began to speak as if someone had begun to argue with him.
    “But he is not fit! What if the people should call on him and he were to fail? Where then would he be?” He followed this statement with a long pause, and then started again, as if burdened down with misery.
    “I could not have known. For all their hopes and dreams it is not given to men to know what may happen the next day, whether it bring great happiness or they are struck down by treachery to die.”
    After a short pause, he spoke again, his voice rising until he was nearly shouting. “It was for his good also. I do not want him hobbling about here, every servant living for his beck and call. If he did not grow complacent and proud, he would instead lose himself in self-pity that he could not do as I can do. A man can not be a good king either way, for he would forget his true purpose.”
    “No, I can not let him have a companion. Not even my daughter. It would not be long before a companion became a servant, whether by choice or by order. I have said why I can not allow that. Now leave me in peace!”
    On a impulse, he snatched up the sword again, looking at with new eyes.
    “Is this the end? Is there no way out of my misery but that I end it myself? The future of my people, the welfare of my son. Never can I choose between them which is the path I should dedicate myself to. Each day my mind becomes more unsettled. Why should I not end it?” He began to test the balance of the sword, as if he were wondering whether it was really true. With a sudden twist, he turned the blade towards himself - and stopped short, the point inches from his chest. A moment later, his sword hand began to quiver uncontrollably. As the sword fell with a clatter to the stone floor, Torlan himself soon followed, and on his knees he began once more to berate himself.
    “No! No! This of all things I can not do! To end one’s own life is the height of dishonor. To be without honor is to be without a past or a future. Men forget the one and ignore the other. No, this I can not bring myself to do. To live is my lot; my son is unfit and my brother is gone and has not been seen for many a year. Who then would rule in my stead? My wife is ill and my daughter too young by years. Am I a coward, that I could think to end my life now? Better to wait until battle comes again, then I can put myself to rest and my honor will remain unstained. Oh, my son!” With this final cry, Torlan seemed to lose what strength remained in his body; from his knees he fell to his side and lay there, drawing deep breaths as if trying to hold back cries of pain.
    He lay there without moving for some time. In his self-imposed misery he could not bring himself to rise off the floor, no matter that it was uncomfortably cold and hard and that a large and luxurious mattress could be had only feet away. In fact, no urge or impulse roused him until finally there was a knock at the door of the room.
    Thrusting himself up wearily, he called out “What is it? I ordered that I should be left alone.”
    The voice of a servant answered “If you please, my lord, it is the princess who asks.”
    This announcement caused Torlan to brighten up considerably. If there was one thing in his life equal to his misery over his son’s plight, it was the love that he bore for his daughter. Trying to smile, he ordered that she be let in.
    Miranda came skipping in with flowers in her hair and more in her hand. She came right up to him without a pause. It was clear that she had enjoyed herself immensely and wanted to spread the cheer wherever it would reach.
    “Hello, father. I went down to the river and I found these. Aren’t they pretty? I think they’re the first ones this year.”
    Deciding not to tell her that he had already seen some of these flowers days ago, Torlan looked down at her with a smile and said “Perhaps, my dear. It is the fortunate lady who is able to pick the first of the year. But they don’t have to be the first to bring me joy coming from you.”
    As soon as he had finished speaking, Miranda thrust the bunch in her hand toward him. “Here, father, you take them. You look sad and I think these will help you.” With nothing more than a little wave, she skipped back out.
    Torlan simply stood and watched her go, saying to himself “My dear, I think you are right.” He stood there silently as happiness began to creep back into his being, and it was a few moments before he realized that the servant was still standing nearby, waiting to be dismissed. Coming back to reality with a start, Torlan snatched up the sword and held it out to the servant. “Take this back where it came from and tell no one about it.”
    With a nod, the servant left. As the door closed once more, Torlan turned back toward the east window, stepped over, and lay the bunch of flowers down gently on the sill. Allowing his smile to return at recalling his encounter with Miranda only minutes ago, he turned away and left the room.

24 September 2013

Price of a Throne: Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Valun and his companions had been dragged along for some three hundred yards since their abduction, when suddenly the sound of galloping horses became apparent from some distance to their left, the direction of the camp. The bandits pulled their prisoners up short as one shouted in disgust.
    “Those blasted horses got free! I said we should have killed them!”
    “Well then do it now, if you that’s what you want. These boys can’t stop us.”
    “It’s too late for that. They would go mad and we’d lose our price!”
    “We’ll never get there if  you object to everything. Catch those animals then. We’ll take them into the city and sell them too.”
    While this argument was going on, the horses had reunited with the boys who had brought them so far from home. Each of the animals approached their own riders and quickly began to look into the boys’ wallets for the prizes which were generally kept near at hand. Conan’s horse came up more slowly than the others, but seemed no less excited at their reunion.
    However, the bandits, having come to an agreement, then moved in to capture the animals and take them along. But the horses, sensing the hostility, fought back together, rearing up and neighing loudly as the bandits tried to move close enough to grab their heads. The animals’ exuberant display of ferocity forced their would-be captors to back away. thus allowing the proud steeds room to canter away and quickly disappear from view.
    “There. Now we’ve lost them all, and we’ll never see them again in a state fit to sell. Now we must be getting on!” The man who seemed to be the chief of the bandits abruptly grabbed at the rope that held the boys together and started down the road at a brisk trot.
    Even as they were hurried down the road, the boys found the levity within themselves to celebrate this small victory, which prompted their captors to deal even more harshly with them, pulling sharply on the ropes and menacing them with weapons if they so much as smiled at each other.
    The country road they were traveling by was  lightly used, as it led straight to the small fishing village the boys had previously left. However, it was also the path to the largest river port, which made it a very agreeable place for bandits like the men who had captured the Corridanes to sustain themselves in their operations. The ground was rugged for miles around, offering countless dells or bends in the path where one could hide and wait to spring on travelers. Such had these men done, waiting until the boys had passed far beyond their position before overtaking and capturing them in the manner already described.
    About two hours later, the bandits agreed that it was time to halt for a short time, purely as a safety measure to protect the investment which they considered their prisoners to be. The villains took the opportunity to drill the boys on all they needed to know to survive their future.
    “First, whoever you are, whoever you thought you might be, no one cares. and they do not want to hear your objections.”
    “In fact, you would do best to keep your mouth shut unless you are spoken to. It will go better for you if our friends have no problems.”
    “You will not see your friends again. You will be a servant for the rest of your lives.”
    “Well then,” said Richard, wrestling futilely with his bonds “You had better tell me your names so that I can kill you when I get free.”
    “Ah, but getting free isn’t for you. Come along, the rest is over.” So saying, the leader of the gang grabbed the rope which held the four companions together and jerked them upright. “It is some miles yet to our next stop, and we want you looking fresh, so behave yourselves.”
    There was nothing more that could be done or said to improve the boys’ prospects, so they got into line quietly, forgoing any attempt to anger their captors further.
    They walked the rest of that day, until it grew too dark to see. When this time came, their captors stopped a short way off the road and set about making camp, while one kept watch over the prisoners. When the camp was established and the fire blazing, the boys were brought close enough to feel the warmth, yet not close enough to enjoy it as the men did. They were given small portions of rations in a manner that suggested the gesture was nothing more than an afterthought to keep them going the next day, and when this was done, the bandits did nothing more to or for their prisoners, but simply sat around the fire talking among themselves until they had all drifted off to sleep.
    The following morning they were roused early, even though they had been driven hard the previous day and could now barely bring themselves to stand up, let alone make forced march as was being demanded of them. However, after rising as slowly as they dared, they soon staggered into line because there was nothing else they could do to stop the torment. This time the bandits walked behind, menacing them with cords of rope which they had produced out of their kits the previous day. There was no talk among the prisoners, and hardly more among their captives, as the whole party was driven by the will of the chief to reach the nearest city as quickly as they could.
    As it turned out, the nearest city was not so terribly far away if one traveled hard as the bandits had that day. By noon they had caught sight of the vast lake upon the shores of which Taronga was built, and less than an hour later they were inside, after the bandits had bribed the watchman of a lesser gate to allow them passage with their illicit merchandise in tow.
    Taronga, the city they had now come to, was a bustling hub of all sorts of trade, both legal and illegal. However, the legitimate merchants decidedly outweighed their counterparts, and so the black market went little noticed by anyone, especially the government in Varaskel, which was some hundred miles away to the North. As the boys and their captors walked through the streets they were jostled heedlessly by the mob of people enjoying the city’s prosperity. The crowds were especially large on this particular day because it happened to be the first day of the national fair, for which reason sellers and buyers came from all over the country to ply their trades or purchase themselves the best that could be had. It was not uncommon to meet a man from outside the country’s borders, so great was the fame of the Taronga fair.

21 September 2013

Price of a Throne, Chapter 8










Chapter 8

    Kalveston was tired. He had been traveling, and fighting, for months now, working to subdue those who persisted in the false belief that he was not destined to lead them into a golden age. The forging of the empire was moving more slowly than he could bring himself to believe. Every day he issued new challenges, insults, and even prodded his men forward, yet still the rebels refused to come out to fight, die, and bow before his power, at which time more of them would die anyway, for one can never have enough examples of one’s greatness.
    Not so long ago, a month perhaps, it had come to his attention that a northern mercenary was leading his enemies and that it was through this man’s influence that the rebels had adopted the coward’s tactics of hitting, running, and hiding. However, they had had such success with this behavior that Kalveston had condescended to offer the man a captain’s post in the imperial forces. The reply sent back had been...less than satisfactory. In response, Kalveston had placed a bounty on the man’s head, and let it be known that he who handed over the wanted one would receive even more than the original offer. Yet even such profitable terms still had not produced his enemy. Obviously, as Kalveston discerned, the man inspired stronger loyalty than he had thought any other man capable of.
    As he thought over these facts from a seat placed just outside his tent, and as he watched his men prepare for another sortie into the hill country in which the rebels had taken refuge, his chief scout approached and saluted.
    “Master, there is no sign of the rebels. They have moved on.”
    “Are you sure of it this time? Have you stabbed every bush, every tree, every hole in the ground? The last time you said that, we moved on, and they struck our rear as we marched, from the place you had described as deserted.”
    “Yes, lord”
    “I swear, if you were not the only real tracker I had, I would have hung you out for the carrion birds that day. It is your misfortune that anyone who knows anything of tracking seems to have joined the rebels. If such a mistake happens again I will make my threat good and order your closest companions to carry out the sentence. I will not wait for them, either.”
    At being forced to stand and listen to such vindictiveness directed at himself, the scout had grown pale and begun to tremble. Kalveston saw this and snapped at him again.
    “Weakness! I may execute you for that, if I do not find a better reason soon. Those who follow me are superior to others. They do not show weakness like the rebel dogs you have failed to find. Get yourself and your men away, and do not bring them back until the campfires are lit.”
    The scout immediately hurried off, and Kalveston settled into his observations again. How long had it been? A year? Two? He could not remember and did not care. All that mattered was that all the land be united under one banner. It was amazing that he, previously the conquering general for the man who called himself king, who had destroyed a host of rebels and a fleet of invaders in a matter of weeks, should be obstructed so by the farmers and hunters who made up the riffraff opposed to him. He had shown them already what came of refusing him. He could not count the number of burned towns he had left in his wake throughout the conflict, yet they still persisted in their resistance. He pondered this in his mind as he stalked through the camp, looking for anyone he could punish to alleviate his own confusion.
    It was hours later and after dark when the scouts found their way back to the camp and came before him to report the results of the expedition. It was apparent that they had not even paused to acquire food and drink, as they were trembling from exhaustion as they waited until the emperor should see fit to notice their presence.
    Kalveston continued to eat his meal at a leisurely pace while watching the assembled group slowly turn pale, possibly from imagining what he was thinking of doing to them. Finally, he finished his drink and thrust everything at his attendant, who was standing nearby. The man promptly left to do his duty, while the emperor looked up to face his frightened scouts.
    “Well? Was anybody left? Did you find anything? A broken blade? A bag, a scrap of food, perhaps?”
    The scout seemed to be trying to restrain himself from marching off as he answered carefully “Well... We did not find any of those by themselves. What we found was a dead man.”
    “What is it that has you so frightened, then?”
    Shaking visibly, the man replied “He was not yet cold.”
    Kalveston answered without flinching, as if  the news he had been given was positively mundane and uninteresting. “Well, you heard my words and it seems that you failed in your one mission. Did you bring the body back with you?”
    “No, Master. We did not think that you would require it.”
    “Wrong again. I wanted to see if the man was that elusive captain who defied me so foolishly.” Turning to the man who had come before him earlier, he added “I do not go back on my word. You are a dead man. You others, take him back to where you found the body and tie him tightly to the nearest tree. Then leave him and rejoin the ranks.”
    As soon as the unfortunate men had left, Kalveston sent for his captains and gave them new orders. “My scouts have stumbled upon signs that the rebels were nearby this day. They have gotten farther away since then, but my men should be able to catch up and kill them all. Is that not true?”
    Dutifully, the captains chorused “Yes, they can.”
    “I knew it, but I wish to be sure of it, so there shall be no rests tomorrow. Everyone will march until we find the rebels or to dark, whichever of the two comes first. Those who fall behind shall be left to fend for themselves. To some, that is worse than death, so I expect that every man will be in ranks when we halt. If not, it shall be on your heads. Weapons only. Packs are to be carried by the animals; that is what they exist for. Men in my ranks know that catching the enemy is more important than their own survival. Has there been news from the empire?”
    “Nothing of consequence, lord. In Naibern life goes on, and in the territories they are learning how to live.”

16 September 2013

Price of a Throne Chapter 7


Chapter 7

    Torlan’s brother Railon was a wanderer. He had now been traveling in countries east of Gairadane for several years, after spending some time in the North, and even a year traveling in the South, in the places which had recently fallen under the banner of Kalveston, the warlord ruler of the vast new empire which he was still forging with the blood of his countrymen.
    Railon had drawn blade with Kalveston’s enemies many times over the course of his time in the South, yet he had never crossed swords with the man himself, for the Naibern was the superior swordsman, and Railon had not wished to die in the midst of turmoil he cared but little for. His skill with men and head for tactics had, however, apparently come to the attention of the emperor, who had once sent the red-haired, dark-skinned captain a white flag and an offer of respect and high pay in the Naibern ranks. Railon’s response had incited the emperor to place a price on his head, as he had nearly attacked the messenger and sent back a reply laced with insults and which concluded “Were I less of a man I would have waited for the chance to kill you in the dark as a spy would. I will not join you for power over half the world, and I will always give aid to the destruction of your plans and your life, until you are dead.”
    But at the moment, the threat of the southern emperor and his hunters was far from Railon’s mind, as he waited with stoic patience for the morning opening of the gates  of Jaltair, the capital of Qufaud, a country which bordered his homeland.
    There were several others waiting alongside him, and he had spoken to some of them to speed the time along. However, he had discovered that, in addition to the more ordinary petitions which people might bring before their rulers many times in a month, several of them had come to demand asylum and protection from bands of rogues who were evidently coming up from the south and causing general havoc and hardship among the people.
     When he heard these complaints, Railon said to himself “That fiend Kalveston has not stopped. Perhaps he is searching for me, but it is more likely that he simply wants to bring the whole world under his banner. It seems my course has been set for me.” To those he spoke to, he added “I know who is ordering this. I am a great captain and I have fought him before. I will go to your Taljun and ask him to let me lead soldiers against this threat.”
    Accordingly, as soon as the gates were opened, Railon joined the crowd of people who were making for the palace, ignoring the curious looks sent his way by those who took notice of his bright hair and straight sword. “A galjan is here. What would he want of the Taljun?”
    “Who can say? Even galjani can not get everything for themselves.”
    “True. Let us go and attend the Taljun’s audience so we may discover what this one wants.”
    Railon overheard this exchange, as the two men were standing only feet behind him in the line which had developed as they drew near the Taljun’s palace. In passable Qafaudi, he answered “This galjan wants the freedom of all people from warlords too big for their helmets. That is all.”
    Soon afterwards, the opening of the Taljun’s audience was announced to the public, and those who had reason began to file forward through the intricately worked wooden gates that closed off the palace from the people. The people were sent in one by one, while those left behind waited in the wide courtyard, which was paved with stone and dotted with wide-spreading trees to offer shade to the ruler and others, until it was indicated that they should enter.
    Several people entered and departed before Railon was called in. Some were visibly happy, and others appeared less pleased with the answer they had received from their ruler. It was not long before Railon himself was called to come forward for an audience, and he moved quickly, as the familiar epithet of “galjan” resounded throughout the meticulously maintained courtyard.
    On entering the Taljun’s audience hall, Railon observed that the same level of care had been taken in the room itself, which was cleared of everyone except the ruler, some advisers standing close to his side, and of course Railon himself.
    The Taljun, an elderly man sporting a long beard which nearly covered his chest, spoke almost as soon as Railon had set foot inside. “Are you the only galjan waiting outside? I do not grant galjani meetings freely. My men say you have the look of a great warrior.”
    Giving the ruler the sweeping bow which was customary to him in such meetings, Railon replied “Yes, I am the only one, and I thank you for allowing me in to you. Whether I am a great warrior is really a matter of whose side you are on.”
    The Taljun guffawed loudly at this tactical retreat of an answer. “That is a wise choice, and I wish my own men could be ready with such a one as that. But now, tell me, what really brings you here, so far from your home?”
    “May I drink? I have had a long time coming here. I came to warn you that there is darkness brewing on your horizon. I have been there and seen it myself. Your people on the southern border are being harassed by bandits ignoring all opposition. Therefore I ask that you give me men to patrol your borders, and if you will not let me lead them, then order your wisest captain out to do it himself. The one who leads our enemies will not stop until he dies.”
    An attendant then entered with a drink and passed it to Railon as the Taljun exclaimed “Then we must move even more swiftly than he does. I can not have my people attacked like this while I sit here.” Turning to the several advisers who stood nearby, he added “My men shall follow this man. See that they start before the sun has set a second time, and that my greatest general goes with them. Do as I have said.” As he waved airily in the direction of the viziers, two of them hurried off to do his bidding.
    Passing the goblet back to the attendant who stood waiting for it, Railon said “Many thanks for your swift action. May your wisdom increase with the length of your beard. I crave leave to go now so that I may prepare myself.” The request being instantly granted, Railon was sent on his way, with a warning that a runner would be sent to find him when the soldiers were ready to start.

08 May 2013

Price of a Throne Chapter 6

     

Chapter 6

    In Gairadane, in the capital Gaimaron, there was at that time a high festival in progress, for word had come from a swift rider that king Torlan was successful. His enemies had bowed before him, and the gates of the city of Alquon were his. Once taken, he had decreed that the city should be known by a new name to commemorate the event, and so it was called Trevlendair, the triumph of endurance. He and the men had remained there for two days to rest and replenish their supplies, but had then started back, and were, at the time of the message’s arrival, mere hours away.
    It was now past midday, and the king’s daughter, Miranda, stood on the wall-top, watching for his return and knowing that there were others below who expected her to signal the first sign of the soldiers’ return. An attendant stood nearby holding a shade, and another stood on her other side, holding a pitcher and cup ready for the times when she felt the need to make use of them, but otherwise no one came within six feet of her person. They would not do so until she had sighted the king’s caravan.
    Speaking to the attendant on her right, Miranda said “I have grown weary of this. Do you think my father will really come today?”
    “Only the one and your father know, my lady. I will send for a seat.”
    “No, do not do that, for I can see more if I stand, even though there is little more to see than the Ishbana.” Suddenly, a distant movement caught the princess’s eye. She pointed it out to her attendants, excitement lending urgency to her voice. “Look, there, where the river bends, is that not my father and his men returning?”
    “It is, my lady. I see the banners too. They have taken a long path, for as you know, there are few good paths near the ford which so many can cross easily. Your father is riding at the front; show him you are watching.”
    At the servant’s suggestion, Miranda first waved vigorously down at her father, who stopped in the middle of the ford and waved back as if he were a standard-bearer rallying men. Miranda then turned about and cried to the nearest sentry “Open the gates! My father has returned!”
    The sentry immediately passed the message down to the people on the ground, and the happy commotion among the people at that level soon grew louder and even more confused, as people jostled each other roughly as they each tried to gain a prime position from which to watch the entrance of the victorious men. In addition to the general bustle, paths had to be cleared for the wardens who opened the gates and the little princess herself to come closest of all.
    The wardens pulled the gates open without waiting, which was a fortunate decision, as the king was almost on the threshold. Even as the gates were opening, he led  his parade of men through and into the city without allowing his animal to break its stride. But when he caught sight of his daughter, he stopped his horse before her seat and raised her up onto it before him, and only then did he continue down the path which led to the palace.
    The line of men who entered behind the king were the hardiest the desert could produce, and their bearing as they marched through the throngs of their countrymen displayed that fact in all its glory. Their armor, such as it was, was dusty and dull from the journey, and their expressions were those of serious men who had seen much to be serious about. However, none of them was above relaxing this demeanor, as here and there men spotted loved ones or friends who cheered their particular return with unusual vigor, and waved back or even broke ranks to reunite themselves with those they most wanted to meet.
    In the midst of these thousands of men wearing armor and marching proudly behind the Gairidane banner of the horse and the river, there were many who marched with tired steps and hangdog looks, and did not examine the crowd looking for those who looked for them. These were prisoners, men from the East who had defended their homes as well as they were able, only to fall to the superior might of king Torlan and his men. Their valor, the king had determined, merited a fair amount of respect, and so they were not bound together, nor were their goods spoiled. Only they themselves were taken from their homes, with the assurance that some would eventually be allowed to return to those who knew them.
    The king rode with his daughter until they came to the palace, which was situated in the heart of the city. There they dismounted, acknowledging the waves of people who stood by, and went in.
    As they crossed the courtyard, attendants came to wait upon them without call or signal being given. One took the king’s horse away to the stables, while at the same time a page took his helm and shield and went away with them. When these attendants had departed, Torlan and Miranda crossed the courtyard and entered the great hall, where more attendants were waiting to bring them refreshments. With a few words to send these on their way, the royalty took seats at the high table.
    “Was it hard, father?”
    “What?”
    “Was it terribly hard? The fighting, I mean.”
    “Who told you there was any? I grant that some men died back there, but of real fighting there was little. The real hardship was to be away from my darling daughter and her mother for so long. How is your mother? Why has she not come down to welcome her victorious hero?”
    “My mother is not well today, but she expects to better tomorrow.”
    “You may tell her she may stay where she is as long as she likes. I am back, and I do not intend to leave again for some time. Has there been news of your uncle?”
    Taking a portion of the food a servant was then offering, Miranda said “My uncle? Who is my uncle?”
    Taking some of the same fare, Torlan laughed at the surprise in his daughter’s voice. “Ah, so I see he has not returned. My brother Railon left this city before your time. He has not been seen in these parts since. Thus he is making me very worried.”
    “Why did he leave?”
    “He would leave the castle as a boy. As a man he left the country. Perhaps he thought the sand was cooler somewhere else.” Setting down his cup, he rose from the table. “I must rest. Send word if anything happens.” With that, he left the room.
    “I will, father.”
    After Torlan had left, Miranda remained in the room alone. The moment she had eaten all she wanted, she had it cleared away and called for music. Two servants dutifully produced instruments rather like dulcimers and proceeded to play lively tunes on them while the princess skipped gaily about the huge room.
    When at last this grew tiring, she sent the instruments away and went upstairs with the intention of visiting her parents. At the door, she had herself announced by the attendant who had been following close behind, and went in.
    Her father had seated himself in a throne-like chair at one end of the large room. Her mother was still in the bed where Miranda had left her to take up the station on the wall. Going first to the queen, Miranda reported “I stayed out there the whole time, until father arrived, the way you asked me to.”
    The queen reached out and stroked her daughter’s hair gently. “It was quite a task, and I am proud that my girl was up to it. It is a special task to wait for the return of the men on such an occasion.”
    “What other occasions could there be for such waiting, in a country like this one?”
    “More than you know, which you will learn when the time comes.”
    Miranda climbed up and sat on the edge of the large bed. “Why must I not know now?”
    “Because you are young, too young to trouble yourself with such things as when your husband will come to claim you.... There, I have said it. Run along now.”
    Miranda obediently sprang down to the floor again, but she did not run far, as her father then called her over. “Come, my daughter.I did not allow myself enough time with you before, and I want you back before you run off.” Setting her on his knee, he asked “So, what has my girl done while I was away?”
    “What can I tell you, father? I sang and played and waited on mother when she wanted me. I did not know I was supposed to do more than that.” She was facing the far wall as she spoke, studying a carved figure which had been set upon a little table near the window. As soon as Torlan had let her down, she ran over to it and brought it back to him. “What is this? I have looked at for a long time and I can not understand it.”
    The carving she was holding had been intended to represent a soldier on horseback, but the workmanship was so poor that only by careful thought could a person decide exactly what it was: perhaps a centaur, perhaps a monster of legend, or perhaps a soldier, but it remained unclear.
    As his attention was turned toward the thing, Torlan’s mood visibly changed from contentment to one of smoldering anger. “I will not speak of that now. Another time, perhaps, but not now. Take it back and leave it there.” Without warning, he thrust himself out of the chair and left the room.


15 April 2013

Price of a Throne Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Valun woke the next morning to sunlight coming so sharply through the window that he could see the dust motes hanging in the air. He relaxed in the bed for some minutes, fascinated by the fact of seeing the light appear and make an insubstantial bar across the room. He was just beginning to settle down to the prospect of gaining yet more sleep when the door was rudely thrown open to reveal Richard standing in the breach, helm on head and sword belted at his side, like some vengeful hero of old. 
Conan stood at Richard’s side, and John had found a place underneath the Longfurrow’s outstretched right arm, which that boy was using to prevent the door from swinging back on him and his friends from the shock of the blow. “Up, my lord Prince, and take the reins of the day! We were told by your kinsman that it would be an early start, and yet we find you lying abed as you cared nothing for our trouble.”
Shocked to full awareness by this abrupt start to the day, Valun threw back the covers and leapt from the bed sufficiently prepared at once, having rested in the same clothes he had worn into the villa. It was then the work of few moments for him to replace his riding boots upon his legs and his belt and sword around his waist. “I stand ready, my friends. I understand that we are to leave?”
Conan’s tone was frosty. “We should have done so already. The duke’s men have come to him once already to ask when or if we were ever going to start.”
“What is the time now?”
“Four hours after sunrise. The boatmen came for us when the the third had passed. We did not think you would have such need for rest.”
“Well, You have got me up now. Come along then.” 
On the ground floor of the house, they met the duke, who showed great relief at the sight of his four guests prepared to depart.
“You had best get yourself down to the dock straightway. My men are impatient to start.”
“Thank you for keeping us under your roof, sir. There is nothing keeping us here and we will be off now, by your leave.”
“You have that without asking. Godspeed be with you and your minds and arms in your exile.”
With that, the boys took their leave. They found their horses prepared and waiting in the courtyard, and all of them mounted without wasting words. Just before they rode through the open gate, duke Tyrone came to his door with some bags in his hands. “You left these. They were just found in your rooms.”
Stopping short, Valun, John, and Conan wheeled about and took their parting gifts from the duke. Richard, who was already wearing the contents of his own sack, waited for them alongside the gate. 
When they finally managed to get out of the duke’s villa, they were picked up in moments by men-at-arms who had been standing nearby all night. They were then guided  straight to the correct vessel, where they were left to themselves.
Fortunately, there was a man on the lookout for them who lost no time in alerting his fellows, so that the boys were aboard the vessel not ten minutes after they had arrived at it. The boys then saw to their horses security for themselves, and after this was done, went about securing berths for themselves. However, they could find none, as the ship was not intended to hold more than its full complement of men at any point in its normal operation. Having discovered this, Valun subsequently gained an audience with the captain.
“My companions and I have no berths. What is to be done about it?” 
Looking up from the inventory of cargo which had been handed to him but a minute prior to Valun’s entrance, the captain said “Nothing can or will be done about it. You were taken on short notice as a favor, onto a vessel that does not have the space for you. We can barely fit your horses. If you want to share their bedding, you may do that. Or you may sleep on the deck. It is all the same to me until I can get you off my boat, which I will do gladly. Name the moment. I have no more time for you. Go.”
Dismissed like a common menial, Valun left, steaming at the captain’s bluntness. When Richard approached, with anxiety evident on his face, Valun brushed him off and moved to the end of the boat. He sat there alone for some time before John approached, looking ready to run away at a sign of trouble. However, by this time Valun was indifferent to to the world. He hardly noticed as the boy came nearer, and offered the same small degree of attention to the words John was saying at him.
“Is it really that hard to give it up? Why should it matter so much that you have to ignore your friends? What is upsetting you, anyway?”
At this sharp question, Valun woke up and said “The man doesn’t care. He thinks we’re only so much baggage and he could care less what happens to us. But we’re nobles! We are not to be ignored, like that!”
“Oh, is that all it is? You live, and someone doesn’t care where, or for how long. There are people yet who don’t know your name. Are you going to hunt them down, shout it in their faces, and then slay them for the crime of not knowing you? I wanted to help, but there is no help in your case.” In one abrupt motion, John rose and moved away.
In the end, the young exiles passed their nights on the deck, wrapped in the cloaks they had brought from their homes. Valun’s worries about the lack of comfort on board were dispelled, as the natural rolling motion of the boat moving down the river worked as well as any sleeping-draught in bringing him to look upon that dark palette where thoughts and dreams are wont to play out before one’s eyes. 
They had spent four nights on board before they came within sight of the village of Quage in Ronaiera. True to his word, the captain of the boat wasted no time in coming to shore only as long as it took Valun and his friends to disembark with their animals and baggage. As soon as they were safely off the boat, they found themselves watching helplessly as the vessel moved back into the river without a sign that anyone aboard it cared that some of the lights of Corridane’s future stood alone in a land unknown to them.

10 March 2013

Price of A Throne Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Valun woke the next morning to sunlight coming so sharply through the window that he could see the dust motes hanging in the air. He relaxed in the bed for some minutes, fascinated by the fact of seeing the light appear and make an insubstantial bar across the room. He was just beginning to settle down to the prospect of gaining yet more sleep when the door was rudely thrown open to reveal Richard standing in the breach, helm on head and sword belted at his side, like some vengeful hero of old. 
Conan stood at Richard’s side, and John had found a place underneath the Longfurrow’s outstretched right arm, which that boy was using to prevent the door from swinging back on him and his friends from the shock of the blow. “Up, my lord Prince, and take the reins of the day! We were told by your kinsman that it would be an early start, and yet we find you lying abed as you cared nothing for our trouble.”
Shocked to full awareness by this abrupt start to the day, Valun threw back the covers and leapt from the bed sufficiently prepared at once, having rested in the same clothes he had worn into the villa. It was then the work of few moments for him to replace his riding boots upon his legs and his belt and sword around his waist. “I stand ready, my friends. I understand that we are to leave?”
Conan’s tone was frosty. “We should have done so already. The duke’s men have come to him once already to ask when or if we were ever going to start.”
“What is the time now?”
“Four hours after sunrise. The boatmen came for us when the the third had passed. We did not think you would have such need for rest.”
“Well, You have got me up now. Come along then.” 
On the ground floor of the house, they met the duke, who showed great relief at the sight of his four guests prepared to depart.
“You had best get yourself down to the dock straightway. My men are impatient to start.”
“Thank you for keeping us under your roof, sir. There is nothing keeping us here and we will be off now, by your leave.”
“You have that without asking. Godspeed be with you and your minds and arms in your exile.”
With that, the boys took their leave. They found their horses prepared and waiting in the courtyard, and all of them mounted without wasting words. Just before they rode through the open gate, duke Tyrone came to his door with some bags in his hands. “You left these. They were just found in your rooms.”
Stopping short, Valun, John, and Conan wheeled about and took their parting gifts from the duke. Richard, who was already wearing the contents of his own sack, waited for them alongside the gate. 
When they finally managed to get out of the duke’s villa, they were picked up in moments by men-at-arms who had been standing nearby all night. They were then guided  straight to the correct vessel, where they were left to themselves.
Fortunately, there was a man on the lookout for them who lost no time in alerting his fellows, so that the boys were aboard the vessel not ten minutes after they had arrived at it. The boys then saw to their horses security for themselves, and after this was done, went about securing berths for themselves. However, they could find none, as the ship was not intended to hold more than its full complement of men at any point in its normal operation. Having discovered this, Valun subsequently gained an audience with the captain.
“My companions and I have no berths. What is to be done about it?” 
Looking up from the inventory of cargo which had been handed to him but a minute prior to Valun’s entrance, the captain said “Nothing can or will be done about it. You were taken on short notice as a favor, onto a vessel that does not have the space for you. We can barely fit your horses. If you want to share their bedding, you may do that. Or you may sleep on the deck. It is all the same to me until I can get you off my boat, which I will do gladly. Name the moment. I have no more time for you. Go.”
Dismissed like a common menial, Valun left, steaming at the captain’s bluntness. When Richard approached, with anxiety evident on his face, Valun brushed him off and moved to the end of the boat. He sat there alone for some time before John approached, looking ready to run away at a sign of trouble. However, by this time Valun was indifferent to to the world. He hardly noticed as the boy came nearer, and offered the same small degree of attention to the words John was saying at him.
“Is it really that hard to give it up? Why should it matter so much that you have to ignore your friends? What is upsetting you, anyway?”
At this sharp question, Valun woke up and said “The man doesn’t care. He thinks we’re only so much baggage and he could care less what happens to us. But we’re nobles! We are not to be ignored, like that!”
“Oh, is that all it is? You live, and someone doesn’t care where, or for how long. There are people yet who don’t know your name. Are you going to hunt them down, shout it in their faces, and then slay them for the crime of not knowing you? I wanted to help, but there is no help in your case.” In one abrupt motion, John rose and moved away.
In the end, the young exiles passed their nights on the deck, wrapped in the cloaks they had brought from their homes. Valun’s worries about the lack of comfort on board were dispelled, as the natural rolling motion of the boat moving down the river worked as well as any sleeping-draught in bringing him to look upon that dark palette where thoughts and dreams are wont to play out before one’s eyes. 
They had spent four nights on board before they came within sight of the village of Quage in Ronaiera. True to his word, the captain of the boat wasted no time in coming to shore only as long as it took Valun and his friends to disembark with their animals and baggage. As soon as they were safely off the boat, they found themselves watching helplessly as the vessel moved back into the river without a sign that anyone aboard it cared that some of the lights of Corridane’s future stood alone in a land unknown to them.

11 February 2013

Price of a Throne, Chapter 3

Chapter 3
note: the character formerly known as Robert has had his name changed to Conan

Valun and his companions rose early the following morning, ate a hearty breakfast, and left the establishment without further ado. They found their mounts to be well fed, well rested and willing enough to go out onto the road again. As the inn they had stopped at was only a short distance off the track to the main road south, they were neither heeded, nor impeded in their reaching it,  by anyone else who was on the streets at at that early hour.
Outside the town, they passed several other travelers, who walked with their heads down and seemed to not to notice what went on around them, so long as it did not intrude upon the space visible to their eyes. Out of common courtesy, the companions avoided the paths of others rather than compelling the walkers to avoid their own path. In these instances they did not speak unless others greeted them, and at such times they kept their words brief and moved on briskly. By sundown that day they had not, in fact, reached Berunthis, but had succeeded, by Richard’s estimate, in finally passing out of the boundaries of the land his family controlled. 
They rested for the night under the roof of  an old barracks in the hills. At the time of its building it had sheltered as many as fifty men, however in the recent days of peace the garrison had been reduced by half. These men regularly patrolled the road between the village of Timberton and the city of Berunthia, on continuous watch against highwaymen rumored to be hiding in the hills through which the road passed.
“Welcome, lads, to the poor shelter afforded to us here at the fort. You are welcome for the company, but will be doubly so if you can give us news of the world outside.”
Valun’s cheer of the previous evening had been worn off by the day’s ride. Feeling unready to speak at the moment, he placed himself near the fire with his hood pulled over his face, allowing his companions the floor.
Speaking did not stop Robert from going through the motions of setting up a camp for himself and his companions. He was cooling down a pair of  horses as he answered the question. “The news is all bad, and I say that with perfect truth. If things continue as they are, you will soon be in need of a full garrison here just to keep the road open.”
A man distributing the garrison’s provisions paused, his hand halfway to that of the man waiting for his ration. “Really? What could have happened to make you pronounce such doom? The has not been need of full garrison here since my father was captain, and that was fifty years ago.” Prodded to do so by the others, the man finished his task as he completed the question.
This time Richard answered, as he retrieved provisions from his own saddlebags. “My companion felt the need to knock two men senseless today. Perhaps he feels that he did them a wrong they didn’t deserve.”
“Well, did they do anything to him? Slight his family, perhaps? For that I would have killed a man.”
“No, they didn’t do anything against him. But they were Southerners. Causing trouble.”
“Southerners? What are Naiberns in our land? Have they not enough for themselves? I’ve heard Naibern is the biggest country between here and the sun... though I grant you the one who told me that cared more for his drink than the news he was giving.”
By this time Robert had completed the tasks he  had assigned to himself. Taking a seat between Valun and Richard, he answered “The king has vanished. The king is exiled.”
This unembellished statement was met with a measure of shock which betrayed the length of time the men of the garrison had already spent in their secluded guardpost. Most just looked stunned. Some let their jaws drop and made faltering attempts at speech. Only one, the same one who had greeted them, could say “You don’t say?”
Valun looked up from his own rations at that moment long enough to say “He does say. I was there and saw it. There is nothing more to be said.” Rising from his place, Valun moved away to lean against the wall behind him and there await the onset of sleep and the morning.
However, his rest was interrupted by John, who had remained on the outskirts of the party the whole time. The younger boy now cautiously made his way to Valun’s side and spoke up, startling the prince.
“Will you help me? That other boy, the one you called Robert, doesn’t seem to like me much.  I can’t tell why, though, I can’t do anything to him.”
Feeling a measure of sympathy arise from somewhere inside himself, Valun replied quietly “I can stop him. He’ll do as I say. Don’t worry.”
“Why’s he angry all the time, though?”
“I could guess, but I don’t know why and I would rather not ask him. There are things you let a man keep to himself unless he says it first.”
Valun could tell by the change in John’s tone that the younger boy had relaxed. He was, however, caught off his guard by John’s last question.
“Who are you? Are you Robert’s brother? Is that why he does what you tell him?”
“No, I’m not his brother. My name is Valun and I’m his king.”
In response to this statement, John made a small noise of surprise and moved back to where he had come from. Valun was too slow in his own response to have this startling reaction explained, but, being comfortable where he was, made no further attempt to solve the puzzle. 
The next morning, when the boys had made their preparations to leave the fort and continue on their journey, the captain of the garrison announced that the guard would turn out to see them all the way to the gates of Berunthia, the nearest city, as he felt that he could not allow boys of such an age as Valun and John appeared to be fend for themselves in dangerous territory when there were numerous guards close to hand. Accordingly, when the companions were on the road again, they were surrounded by a score of armed footmen, despite the protests of Richard to the contrary.

25 January 2013

Name Changes

I changed a few names in the story, and I'm putting them up here to avoid any danger of confusion later.
The obligatory sidekick to my hubristic emperor.
Old name: Damrod, which never sounded good but worked as a placeholder.
New name: Keltran, which sounds slightly better. At least it's easier to say.

A side character who is not important and never will be, but he moves things along.
Old name: Meltran
New name: Calvon
He's eligible for one more name change. I liked his old name better but changed it so as not to conflict with Keltran.

One of the big four major characters. I was constantly getting his name confused with the others, and it didn't strike me as right either.
Old name: Robert
New name: Conan, which looks even worse when you read it but was the best replacement I could find.

Anybody have suggestions? What name, nonsensical or otherwise springs to mind when you see these guys? Any suggestions will likely be used.

19 January 2013

Rebooting

Yes, I got two chapters up, but now i'm taking a break for a while, after breaking out of the doldrums, to begin rebooting in earnest. As I have said before, no one is safe from the reboot, so some characters will be altered or deleted. But if you don't read this blog that's not a big deal, is it?
Anyway, I am currently:
  1. Rethinking my plot strategy
  2. Arranging poorly drawn maps for the purpose of defining national and international political boundaries.
  3. Changing characters' names
  4. I may even invert the map north to south (or even East to west). This would be in the interest of out-of-the boxness but is unlikely to go through b/c as the English speaking world is the "Western world" this goes against our natural map perception, and simply adds confusion.
  5. I should throw this in since my royalty all have nonsense syllables in place of the usual names for no reason: All those names are read w/ the stress on the first syllable.
  6. Thanks for checking this.

08 January 2013

The Price of a Throne, Chapter 2


Chapter 2

Two streets beyond the alley where they had picked up the boy, Valun spotted a pair of soldiers harassing a shopkeeper. They were taking his wares as if the things were on their own table, and prodding the man with their blades when he made futile attempts to protect his livelihood. Valun pointed this out to Richard, who was riding on his right.

“You see those soldiers? They must be foreign. No Corridane would treat a man like that.”

“I see them, my lord. And I see no one else around to aid him, so we must do it. I am good with a blade.”

Straightening in his seat, Valun replied “I do not think we should try to fight them. They are men and we are but boys still. At a challenge from us they would laugh.”

At this point Robert rode up upon Valun’s left, having taken advantage of the widening road. “Let there be no dawdling about it, my lord. The good man is on the ground already. If no one else will, I take it upon myself.”

While the other three stayed behind and watched from the backs of their horses, Robert dismounted and marched the twenty yards to the sides of the unsuspecting soldiers. Without saying a word his companions could hear, Robert reached up, grasped an ear of each of the men, who seemed to have stopped to laugh at him, and swung their heads at each other so that they collided, causing the soldiers to sprawl upon the ground as if a door had fallen on each of them. Then Robert pulled the shaken shopkeeper up to his feet, said a few words which the others could not catch, and turned back toward his horse. As he mounted once more, he remarked tersely “My father told me once that I should always look out for happenings like that. He said “There’s a reason the One gave you a strong body. Use it.’ So I do. I suggest we move on before more of them than we can handle come looking for us.”

As they rode past, the shopkeeper came out again and waved to Robert, calling out “I’ll be safe, thank you sir. The king will hear about this business.”

Stopping his horse for a moment, Valun turned to the man and said “Your time would be better used for other things. The man who calls himself king will not bother himself with you.” Gesturing at the still-prone bodies, he added “They came on his orders. But there may soon be calls to take up arms against such treatment as you received. Do all you can to see that they are heeded. Good day.”

The shopkeeper, whose face had fallen when Valun spoke his name, only said “It is a command, my lord. May I live to see you return.”

Giving the old man a salute for his fortitude, Valun started his horse again and led his companions farther down the street. They did not stop until they found a tavern, where they halted to refresh themselves before they made the great journey which had opened up before them.

Tying their horses for themselves, the four boys entered the building expecting swift and obedient service. The building itself was inviting. The walls were built of strong wood, and a large fire was blazing in the hearth despite the fact that it was broad daylight outside. There were small groups of old friends sitting in odd corners, and no sign of rough men anywhere about. However, when they had made themselves known, men began to talk behind their backs. 

Valun could not believe that he would see such insolence from men his father had ruled with the benevolence he had shown. In three strides, Valun and his companions had reached the nearest of the tables. When they stopped, Valun pounded the table a few times and then spoke.

“Men! You know who we are, or you would not behave like this. I wish to know why our appearance among you is such a disturbance, and I want to know that now.”

A bearded man in a far corner of the room answered him. “You should know, if you are the prince. There’s been word out for days now that the king’s own seal is on this regent’s rule. What’s more, some say the prince has signed the orders too. You say you are him, but I can’t be sure I believe you, because I’ve also heard that the prince rarely leaves the courtyard gate. No doubt the king has had plenty of fine entertainment come in to see him. Why, I wonder?” The man took a draught from his flagon, as if to lubricate his throat, and added “And, it’s been said that the prince, whether he’s you or not, is under sentence of exile for drawing a blade in the hall of audiences and threatening the king’s regent.”

While the man was talking, two others pointed at the three nobles as they spoke among themselves and then seemed to agree and went out.

Valun leaned on the table with his arms outstretched as he considered the man’s speech. When the man had finished, Valun rose to his full height, which promised to be high indeed, and answered as if he had been called before a judge. 

“Man, you are informed indeed, and I can say only this: I promise you that neither the king nor the prince ever signed any order making this man king’s regent, for the king did not believe he would be away long enough to find the order necessary. As for the prince’s conduct, that is true enough. I wish I had smote him anyway, but had I done so I would have died in that room and you and your friends would never know whether it had happened or not. All I ask is a little food for travelers, a horse for our companion, and the knowledge that my people will wait for me until I return. Is that enough?”

Without any warning, five more of the foreign soldiers entered the tavern and laid hands on the four companions. One seemed to hesitate in deciding which of them was the most dangerous, and simply drew his blade and tried to point it at each of the four at once.

“That is enough, my boy. You come along with us now and get out of this city like a good little boy and we won’t hurt you. I will stick the first one who tries to get free.”

Valun saw that the others were looking to him for the signal to fight their captors. Robert and Richard looked ready to fight back the moment they received a signal, but the other boy just looked frightened, and Valun did not have the complete confidence in his own abilities which he could see in the faces of his older companions. He relaxed and was marched out of the building as quickly as the soldiers could make him, followed closely by the other soldiers holding Richard, Robert, and the smaller boy they had picked up.
They were allowed to mount their horses but were not allowed to manipulate their own reins. Instead, the fifth soldier, who had not sheathed his blade, took the reins of all three animals in his hands. The fourth boy was compelled to climb up behind Richard, because he had the largest horse. Arranged in this manner, they were shepherded down the street by the five soldiers, who walked on all sides of them.


As they approached the gate, Valun caught sight of people pausing in the street, who appeared to be trying to recognize at least of these boys dressed as young noblemen who were being led out of the city by force. However, the armed guards deterred anyone from calling out and most of them melted away after no more than a moment or two. Whenever he could catch the eye of a bystander, Valun would shout out “Teim ar son na siochana! Beidh me ar ais ar do sonas! (“I go for peace! I will return for happiness!)” In this way he hoped to conceal from the guards his intention to return, as he guessed that the old language of Corridane was not known in the place his guards had come from, but that some of his people knew what he was saying.


A few minutes later when they reached the main gate, they were led through without fanfare. Once outside, they were finally allowed to take control of their own mounts once more. The soldiers then returned to the confines of the city walls. and shut the gates hard.

The four boys then turned off to the side of the road and dismounted. They walked about and lay down on the grass for a few moments before returning to the business at hand.  Having given little thought before that moment to the question of where they would go after they had been thrown from the city, Valun put the question to his companions.

Richard was the first to offer an answer. “We should take the eastern fork of this road, and cross the country in that direction. The road passes near my father’s land..”

Before Valun had a chance to answer this statement, Robert spoke up. “If that is your only reason, we should take the northern road past my father’s land, as it is less-traveled. We can cross the mountains and take up residence in Brandia. Is that not, my lord, where the king had intended to go himself?”

“How did you know? He did not tell anyone besides myself, I thought.”

“One of my father’s men on his way to the capital saw the king ride past one day, with no one but a boy at his side. He was going north.”

“Yes, that is true, but the king has not come back from there yet, though he meant to,  so why would you believe that boys would make the passage safely? Do you know the path through the mountains?”

Robert stared at the ground. “I see, my lord. I surrender my ground. We should take the east road.” Looking up again, he noticed the other boy standing close by the horses, waiting for a decision to be made. Pointing at him, Robert said “Why is he with us? We have no space for hangers-on on this journey, and yet we have already taken one on who has not even told us his name yet! Tell me why we should not send him scurrying back to his little place, wherever it is!”

Valun and Richard both moved to restrain Robert, while the smaller boy slid behind one of the horses as if it would offer him some protection. Struggling to keep his own voice lower than Robert’s shouting, Valun said “That boy does not have a home to return to from here. Did you not hear what he said when we met him? I say it was my duty as the prince to tell him to come with us. He is under my protection.”

“What protection have you to offer him?”

“As much as I wish! And if you do not wish to shame yourself here you will let this matter die!”

Robert looked ready to push Valun aside, even though he was the prince. But Richard stepped between the two furious boys just in time. “Robert, let it go. You know you can not claim a victory here.”

“At the least that boy should come out and explain himself!”

Valun, for his part, had nearly cooled his head. “I grant that he will do that. You, over there! Come out and make yourself known. We can go no farther with one we do not know.”

“My name, Sirs? I am called John. If I tell you where I am from you will not believe me, but I am willing to go wherever you decide to go yourselves.” As he spoke, John had begun to move away from the animals, as if he thought that he could now consider himself included in the party rather than simply riding on the back of another’s animal.

Valun stood up. “Very well, John. We will take you at your word. See that you do not betray our trust, and we we are grown you will be richly rewarded for standing by our side in our trouble.” Turning to Richard, Valun added “We will have to see about finding John a horse of his own. Do you think there is one your stables could spare?”

Richard sheathed his sword and rose to his feet. “I think so, my lord, but if it is acceptable to you, I would like to let my family alone. Any sign of our presence around my land is likely to bring a crowd of soldiers down on my father’s head before he has prepared for them. Moreover, just for myself, I would like to stay away only because they have lost me, not to mention an excellent horse, once already, and I do not wish to put them through the whole ordeal again. By no means will I sneak in like a thief to take a horse from my own father’s stable, or anyone else’s. If John will ride, Thunder will take him as far as I want him to. The boy is not so much of a burden as all that.”

Valun turned back to John. “Is this agreeable to you?”

John answered in a strongest voice he had used to that point. “If you see fit to do that, than I will not object unless I fall off on the road, my lord. Though I feel that I must tell you the whole arrangement is making me very curious.”

Robert, who was now standing at his mount’s side again, said “It will be some time before we are required to explain any of it to you. Follow along and you’ll make it through alive.”

They all remounted without saying anything more and started off. Rather than riding straight down the road, however, they rode across the countryside a mere yard from it, judging that if soldiers were after them to ensure that they had really departed, they would be looked for on the road and missed if they were off of it.

They traveled in a single file. Richard led throughout the day, as he was most familiar with the country they were crossing and approaching. Valun spent his time watching John’s back to be sure that the boy did not lose his grip and fall.

They stopped only twice in the whole day before the sun went down. When that time came, Richard suggested that they should halt. 

“We are close by the border of my father’s land. We can stay the night here in safety as well as any other placed on the road.” Leading his horse a few feet farther, he tied it to a tree while John slid to the ground without help. 

Valun could only sit and watch as first Richard, and then Robert, proceeded to strip their packs from their animals, spread out their bedrolls and don hooded cloaks. He was caught by surprise when Richard flung a cloak and a bedroll at him. 

“There, my lord. My father placed more on my horse than I needed. It seems he guessed this would come to pass.”

“Yes, but he did not guess that we would have yet another along.” Valun in his turn flung the cloak at the unsuspecting John, but kept the bedroll for himself. In a short time, Robert got a fire started and they had all placed themselves around it and settled down to sleep, which they all greatly desired, having been worn down by the day’s ride.

As the next morning dawned, the road and the fields around them were completely free of people. Taking this as a good sign, they went about restarting the journey so slowly that nearly two hours had passed before they remounted. This time Valun claimed the head of the line, as none of them knew the road farther east any better than the others.

In the middle of the afternoon, after passing several other villages and many travelers hurrying in both directions, they rode into a village full of houses no bigger than three rooms. As they approached, they could see people working in fields which stretched for several hundred yards beyond the cottages. As they passed through the village itself, they attracted curious looks from all manner of people. Every type, from men standing on the edges of the fields to the rough-bearded man wearing rags in the gutter stared at them as if they had never seen such finely dressed people. 
A little disconcerted by the looks, Valun led the party to what looked like the central square. There he turned to the people who had been interested enough to follow them through the streets and said “I shall give a good price to the first man who will sell me a horse able to travel.” 

A brawny, sun-tanned, patriarch then stepped forward. “If you will take him, my lord, I have an old boy who can still make a pace, though you can not ask him to carry more than yourself. He may not be able to go through the day, either, but I do not know that, as I have not asked him to work for me for the year past. If you will come with me you can see him for yourself.”

Valun consented, and the three nobles, with John in tow, followed the man through the streets until they reached his humble cottage hard by the fields. From there he led them to a stable large enough to hold a score of animals. Several had put their heads out over the doors to their stalls. The man greeted each one as he passed them, but did not stop until he had come near the end of the line. He stopped in front of a quiet grey, patting the animal lightly in greeting. 

“Here, old boy, you’re wanted for one last job. You be sure to behave for these lords, now.”

Opening the door, the man entered and took down an old but sound bridle from the wall and slipped it onto the beast. Then he led it out and gave the reins over to Valun. “His name is Thalden. He’ll go or stop at your word, but I’ve never bade him do anything else, for to me he was only a plowhorse.”

Valun opened his purse and tossed the man a few gold pieces. “He will be happy with us. We travel far, but we do not hurry. Here, John. This is your horse.”

John slid down from Richard’s mount and climbed aboard the new animal with help from the farmer. As soon as he was firmly in the saddle, Valun indicated that they should resume the journey. They rode through the town down the main road, returning the waves of the people as they went.

On their way through the village, they were compelled to don their hoods to ward off the rain that had begun to fall. In just a few moments, however, it had become such a downpour that they had to take the next step and get shelter in the inn nearest the gate. 

The place was homelike and clearly well-to-do. Valun and his companions took seats close to the fire and called for hot cider. It was some time before the drinks were ready, which allowed the travelers ample time to make themselves comfortable without aid from anything that could be provided. Nevertheless, when the cider finally came they took it cheerfully, and immediately proceeded to pour it down as if they had been parched. However, the exuberance of their drinking was soon surpassed by their regret of having done it so eagerly, due to their stinging tongues and throats, which left them breathing heavily.

As they began to suffer the consequences, the innkeeper came out from behind the bar with a large pitcher, from which he poured them large portions of what soon proved to be plain cold water. When they had drunk it all, he asked them “Who are you young bucks, where are you from, and where are you going?”
Richard, who had been first to recover, answered. “Perhaps we won’t tell you, and then where will you be? After all, you didn’t tell us to be careful.” Richard leaned forward and rested his face on the table as Robert continued the reply, followed by the other two.

“We’re making for Berunthia. We mean to travel.”

“I’m not really with them. They picked me up. I’d have had it worse otherwise. Don’t know what they’re running from.”

“Yes, we’re running. No we won’t tell you because they might make you help them. We are well-known and would rather not be pursued. All that you can do for us, like giving us food without asking questions, will be amply repaid in time.”

“In time? Are you boys too proud, or are you to poor, to repay a man so he can make his living?”

Richard reached into his wallet and dropped some large coins on the table with a sigh. “There, man. That will keep you in provision for some time, if I know anything of the value of money.  Moreover, it might help you change your mind about helping us.”

The innkeeper had snapped up the gold with hawklike alacrity. He bit them one by one, then stowed them away, rubbing his jaw with his free hand. “Aye, it will at that. Let it never be said that old Bill at The Traveler’s Rest was a miser with his bargains. What do you want?”

“How far to Berunthia?”

“Only a day or so down the path, if you please, your honor.”

“We want food for three days on all our horses and a good rest.”

“You’ll get that too, my lords.”

“Very well. Give us your biggest room.”

At a sign from “old Bill,” the boys followed him upstairs into a large room with one bed and space for the four of them to spread out on the floor. They gave the host their cloaks to hang over the hearth below and then lay down for a well-deserved sheltered rest. Valun took the bed by mutual deference of the others, Richard lay across the doorway, and the other two lay themselves out the way they best liked to do so.

Valun and the others lay quietly for several minutes before Robert reminded them of the food they still wanted. “Why are we up here already? Does anyone think this is going to draw anyone off the track? I’m for supper.”

Stimulated by Robert’s action, the others joined him, and they all trooped out and into the common room. Going first to the fire to determine the progress of the heat on their cloaks, they took a table in the corner where no one could sneak up on them and called for food. When it came, they ate ravenously, albeit with a good show of the decorum they had learned in their own halls.

Valun was completely satisfied after the hearty meal, and supported in large part by all the rest he had accumulated, he called loudly for the innkeeper himself. When the man stood before them, the young prince spoke seriously, as if the man was standing before him in his own audience hall. 

“Not so long ago you asked us who we are. I think I am ready for you to know. We are young nobles, fleeing to save our lives from the chaos moving across the country now, so we can not stay long. We will take our leave soon, and so I charge you, after we have left, to make sure that the people know that the house of Valun does not forget aid or hindrance, and will return to wreak its vengeance and offer its graditude in due time.” 

“The house of Valun is departing? How do you know this, and who will restore the peace that you say we have lost, my young lord?”

“Perhaps the Longfurrows, perhaps the Trondales, perhaps another unknown to us. I know of what I speak because the house of Valun stands before you now. Recall my words to all who wonder.” With that, Valun led the way in rising from the table, breaking a way through the small group of patrons who had become curious at the high tones coming from the far wall, and ascended the stairs to the room they had taken for the night.