Draconis' Bane (17 page)

“He hid it well
enough.” Tristan answered darkly.

“Yes, well, he’s an
old and proud man. Such men rarely accept someone one quarter their
age giving them orders, let alone taking their suggestions.” His
father said matter-of-factly. “Even if they are Princes.” He
laughed.

“I also lost
seventeen men.” Tristan brooded.

“That’s leadership,
you can plan all you want, but once the battle begins all of the
plans in the world won’t help ensure victory.” His father
commented. “I need you to take on a new mission…”

Tristan looked up
from his wine glass where he had been lost in thought.

“What might that be?”
He asked with a crooked smile.

“You’re going to
Guis.” His father said after swallowing another bundle of cheese
and meat.

“Why?” Tristan asked,
confused.

“Well. All your
training was supposed to have prepared you for assuming command of
your own keep.” His father began.

“My own…what?”
Tristan asked shocked.

“I sent you along
with your brother hoping you’d learn a few things.” The King
chuckled. “But to be honest, with the staff already in Durshire
you’ll have all the help governing you’ll ever need.” His father
continued. “I’ll give you a month to settle in and then you’ll need
to visit the court in Guis.”

“But…why?” He
blurted.

“Why Durshire, or why
visit our allies?” His father asked.

Tristan’s shoulders
slumped, a smile coming to his face. “Fine, fine…it’s useless to
argue isn’t it?”

“More or less.” His
father replied smiling while Gerald burst out laughing. “By the way
old friend, I’ve brought Hanna with us.”

“My wife is here?”
Gerald gaped.

“Yes she is, and
she’s quite excited to be a baroness.” Dion replied.

“A ba….oh no. No.”
Gerald said with finality. “Your Highness, please…no.” He added
when the Kings expression didn’t change.

Now it was Tristans
turn to burst out laughing. “Congratulations Dana…excuse me…My
Lord.”

“Never you mind lad,
I’ll always be Dana to you!” Gerald chuckled along with everyone.
Turning to the King he once again attempted to plead his case. “My
Lord. I’m ready for retirement….not a promotion.”

“Sorry my old friend,
you’re the only one I can trust. It won’t be difficult, I’ve got
some able administration staff coming and once we weed out the
infiltrators
together
.” He emphasized reading the old tutors
expression correctly. “We’ll have this town running itself.”

Gerald opened and
closed his mouth several times, obviously trying to find the
perfect argument that would change the King’s mind. After a few
minutes of this, he sighed and allowed his shoulders to slump as
his student had.

“Besides, Annadora
and Hanna spent all week helping Hanna buy new gowns that would
befit a lady.” Dion chuckled.

Gerald rolled his
eyes as the three men got out of their chairs and made their way
out of the council chamber and into the main hallway. Tristan heard
a rustle of fabric and soft but quick footfalls, which were
followed by being painfully hit around the waist and hugged
tightly. Everyone chuckled as Tristan looked up from his sister to
his mother and an older woman walking down the hallway towards
them, both smiling at the display.

The next few days
were spent preparing for his trip to Durshire. His mother and
sister half dragged him out of his bedchamber the following morning
to quickly break fast and then shop for a new wardrobe. They were
completely deaf to his pleading and then insistence the he had all
the clothes he would ever need. The three of them spent hours in a
fine tailors shop purchasing enough clothing to outfit what
remained of the 7
^th
in style for the rest of their
lives.

Many times over those
days he would drift into bouts of minor depression. His guilt
gnawed at him endlessly. Losing so many of the soldiers from the
7
^th
, especially young Lieutenant Halvorsen, was very
hard for Tristan to deal with. Everyone he had spoken to about this
had the same advice; Leadership is sacrificing the few to keep many
alive. Those words were hollow council when he woke in the night in
a cold sweat after seeing Halvorsen’s laughing face in his
dreams.

On the fourth day his
horse arrived at the keep a letter from his brother.

Tristan,

You did quite well
from all reports. I’m very impressed and proud of you. Captain
Robertson was quite impressed and speaks highly of you. Mother sent
me a letter about your guilty dreams. I still remember the name of
every man who died under my first command. The faces of those who
live because of their sacrifice are the only thing that brings me
comfort when I see the dead in my dreams. The guilt will fade in
time, but never forget the lesson. You’ll be fine.

Alison sends her
love.

Your brother,

Kevin

That night the faces
haunting his dreams ceased.

On Tristan’s last
night in Irudin everyone gathered in the council chamber for a
farewell meal. It was a night to celebrate many changes. He was
leaving to take his first posting, his parents were heading back
north to Metao, and Eurydice was being left with her Danai in
Irudin.

Gerald had been
placed in command of Irudin as its Baron; the ceremony had been
conducted early in the afternoon much to the old general’s
annoyance. Tristan, of course, was as prepared as he could be for
his journey to Durshire.

“It’s not fair.” His
sister whispered, sitting next to him.

“What’s not fair?”
Tristan asked.

“You get to go and
have an adventure and all I get to do is sit around and drink tea.”
She pouted theatrically.

Since Eurydice had
arrived, Tristan had been able to see firsthand what her tutelage
with Hanna was like; she was right. When she was taking her riding
lessons she had to do so in a dress sitting side saddle on the
horse. Her horse fairly reeked of perfume, and its mane and tail
had been braided with ribbons and bows. The effect was highly
amusing for Tristan whose own horse was more often than not covered
in dust from a ride. Tristan found that he cherished his time in
the saddle and felt very sorry for his little sister, who preferred
wearing an old pair of his leather trousers and using a traditional
saddle.

“True, but you never
seem to be lacking for company.” Tristan replied smirking at
her.

“Who told….oh never
mind. Who I have tea with is my business big brother.” She replied
with barely concealed sarcasm.

Tristan laughed as he
said; “That’s true enough, I know tea involves the mouth but…”

Euri elbowed him
under the table as their mother looked over, attempting to hear
their conversation from the other side of the table. Tristan
laughed even harder as Eurydice’s face reddened noticeably.
Unfortunately, talk around the table turned to Tristan despite his
annoyance with being the center of attention.

“Well my young Duke.
Are you ready for your journey?” His father inquired with a
smile.

“Ready? He’s chomping
at the bit. He’s only repacked his saddle bags a dozen times.”
Gerald accused, laughing.

“Yet he stays
curiously away from baggage wagon full of his new clothes.” Hanna
replied with a sarcastic smirk.

Everyone at the table
burst out laughing, Tristan had made no show of concealing his
annoyance with the fashionable attire. His mother had even tried to
force him into some leggings, which was where he finally put his
foot down. So while uncomfortable, hot and irritating as his new
wardrobe was, at least he had trousers for all of the outfits, cut
wide at the ankle for his new boots which he was still painfully
attempting to break in.

“Durshire has been
without a Duke for the better part of a decade, so the town council
will assist you in administering the area.” His father explained.
“They’ve been doing an excellent job so far. You should have very
little in the way of surprises when you arrive.”

His father had
received word that the council was eager to receive a new Duke and
the council members were looking forward to turning their attention
back onto their respective businesses. The town had grown so much
in the last few decades that the management of the estate required
the council to meet more regularly than the members preferred.

“Which means, that I
should be in Guis before the end of the month?” Tristan asked. The
King nodded once in reply.

Tristan became
introspective as talk at the table turned to the harvests and
Gerald’s administration of the city. The young Prince couldn’t help
but feel excitement. For so long he’d been held in one place and it
felt wonderful to be allowed so much freedom to make his way. He
wondered if he was up to the task, but dismissed the thought as too
alien. He’d obviously proven himself over the last weeks for his
father to entrust him with a keep, even on a peaceful border.

He thought about his
upcoming move to the border town and his impending visit to the Raj
of Guis; Julpinu. Over the last few weeks (between being dragged
around shopping and riding Pava) he’d been asked to read as much as
he could about their neighbor to the east. Tomorrow he would leave
for Durshire and shortly after that he was off to Guis. The
excitement had been building in him to the point where he was
chaffing to be on the road. Gerald was right. Tristan was very
eager to have another adventure, which of course was far more
liberating than most people could appreciate.

His memories prior to
his attack were still denied to the young Prince, although he
rarely fought to remember them anymore. He’d accepted that the
person he was before the attack wasn’t who he wanted to be at any
rate. He could sense that others felt the same way, but rather than
annoy him, it made him feel as though this was part of fates’ plan
for him. He couldn’t remember ever being this happy, and even when
his life lay in the balance he was still more at peace with this
life than he ever could have imagined.

Supper was winding to
a close and his mother called his name from across the table.

“Yes?” He replied
absentmindedly, looking up from his glass.

“Would you take me
for walk on the terrace?” She asked.

Tristan looked at her
with confusion clearly evident on his face. He couldn’t recall ever
spending any time alone with his mother. He sensed there was some
hesitation from her, perhaps she was unsure of how hard to push him
or if he was still the son she’d always known. The truth was that
he couldn’t figure out what she was thinking; she kept her thoughts
shielded at all times. He assumed it was due to the draconic legacy
he shared with her and his sister. It appeared as though Euri had
more of a connection with his mother than he shared. Tristan simply
accepted that prior to the attack he hadn’t exhibited any of the
gifts of his bloodline, so he was largely left to learn the ways of
the Vallious men.

His mother seemed
distressed that he could now hear her thoughts when her defenses
faltered and communicate with her with his mind. She often forced
him out of conversations he wasn’t supposed to witness, as she had
when he had first awoken. While she clearly adored her son, there
was a sense of fear there as well. As if she didn’t expect any of
this out of him and yet he could do these things with ease.

“Of course.” Tristan
replied with a smile.

The young Prince rose
from his seat, walked around the table and pulled his mothers chair
out so that she could get up. Hanna smiled warmly; obviously happy
that at least some of her gentlemanly training was holding. Dion
chuckled as Tristan offered his arm, as his mother took it they
walked out of the room. Mother and son walked out of the main
chamber into the courtyard where they made their way up the steps
to the terrace that ran the length of the wall surrounding the
keep.

They walked along,
quietly enjoying the night, the stars shone brightly in the clear
sky. Tristan could see both the Eastern and Western Roads fading
off into the distance, wagons and horses making their way to and
from Irudin, their tiny lanterns lighting the way along the
highway. The keep itself was alight with merry little fires in all
of the guest rooms as well as the larger Baronial chambers facing
the keep gates. Off in the distance Tristan could hear the Great
River coursing its way through Vallius just south of them.

Tristan’s attention
was pulled ahead of them to the east by a distant roar he could
hear as clearly as if it were right next to him. He could make out
the outlines of what must have been an enormous dragon, illuminated
by the large white moon. As they came to the first tower the pair
stopped as Tristan’s attention was transfixed on the horizon where
the dragon had disappeared into the night.

The east tower was a
large affair, with a garden and benches lining the circular roof.
They sat down together, his mother watching him closely as he
pulled his attention from the eastern sky.

“Before you leave I
thought it was only fair to let you ask me any questions you might
have.” She began. “You’ll understand that most of what you will ask
me is
not
something widely known by our subjects, so I’ll
ask you to talk to me with your mind.”

I understand.
He sent.

I knew you would
Mykl.
She sent warmly.
Now, your questions?

I’m sure you know
by now that I have hundreds of questions, no one seems to know the
answers though.
Tristan sent.

Before now I
wasn’t going to give you those answers.
His mother admitted,
looking towards the moonlit forest to the north.