Dragons and Destiny (28 page)

“They’ll keep
on doing it until Weaponsmaster Jilmis is satisfied,” Markion said.
“He’s a hard taskmaster, always looking for perfection and rarely
getting it. He’s good though, one of the best.”

“Who is one of
the best?” asked a strange voice behind them and they all
turned.

“Niaill.”
exclaimed Markion. “Great Andei’s pawprints! Where did you spring
from?”

“We got in
yesterday,” said the stranger. “I’m waiting a few days then me and
Taraya are off to her rtath, Long Leave.”

“You lucky
beggar, dinner tonight?”

“I’d love to,”
Niaill answered, “but I’ll have to forgo the pleasure of your
brother’s cooking. Danal’s due in, he sent word and we’ve a lot to
talk about.” Niaill turned a face alive with interest in the
direction of the four visitors.

“These are
Baron Ross, Kellen Cocteau and Kellen Merriman from the south and
Captain Hallam of the Garda,” Markion introduced them.

“My pleasure
gentlemen,” said Niaill with a short bow which the four
returned.

“Heard you had
some trouble up north,” said Markion conversationally.

“We routed a
pack of brigands in the mountains. They’d been playing merry hell
in the area.”

“Do you have a
lot of trouble with bandits and brigands?” asked Philip. “We’ve got
them as well. Always thought a hanging too good for them.”

“Then we agree
on that matter at least,” replied Niaill. He glanced over at the
practice field, intending to change the subject. “Battle practice I
see. Seems only yesterday that Taraya and I were suffering the same
torment. They’ll be sweaty and sore before the class is
finished.”

“They’re very
good,” offered Elliot. “I’d hate to have to face them in a
battle.”

“Take that
thought with you when you return home my young acquaintance,” said
Niaill with a laugh. “The times when Vadath and Murdoch waged war
on each other are long gone.”

“Amen to that,”
injected James. “I don’t want to meet them either.”

They heard a
bell clang.

“End of class,”
explained Markion. “What would you like to see now?”

“We’ve an
appointment with Susa Julia,” Robain reminded him.

“So you have,
so we’d better head over in that direction. What about you two?” he
asked James and Elliot.

Elliot looked
uncertainly at Philip.

“I can take
them on,” said Niaill, “I’ve a bell or two to kill.”

“Could we see
the armoury?” asked James.

“Course you
can,” said Niaill. “We’ll go to the cookhouse after,” he added and
turned to Markion, “meet us there?”

“If it’s not
too much trouble?” queried Elliot.

“No trouble at
all I assure you,” Niaill answered. “I need to speak to the
armourers anyway. I’ve a small nick in my sword that needs
attention. May as well kill two xrndli with one stone as my brother
would say.”

By now the
practice field was filling up with the next class. The riders
looked smaller and younger than the previous one although their
Lind were the same size.

“First years,”
noted Niaill, watching them forming up. “This class won’t be nearly
as interesting. Lots of falling off and squeals of pain. More of a
riding class really.”

“None of them
are wearing swords,” noted Elliot.

“Quite right
young Kellen,” smiled Niaill, “it’ll be as much as they can manage
to hold on.”

“So can we go
to the armoury now?” asked James in a plaintive voice.

The three of
them headed up the hill towards the buildings.

The visit to
the armoury was more interesting than Elliot had expected. The Head
Armourer, a gnarled old man with old burn marks liberally
bespeckling his arms showed them his domain with much pride and
even let James help with the bellows as he repaired Niaill’s
sword.

“That there,”
he said, pointing a bent finger to the swords at James’s belt, “is
of southern make. Used to be called scimitars a long time ago.”

“Did they?”
asked James. “I didn’t know that. We call them swords.”

“Much of what
we all used to know is lost now,” the old man pronounced in an
enigmatic voice.

For lunch
Niaill led them to the cookhouse where Elliot and James ate their
fill of the tasty food on offer. The dining area was large and
filled with long tables and stools. For the first time in their
lives, they were each given a tray and followed Niaill to the
servery hatches where cooks were waiting to ladle out portions of
what they asked for. The helpings were large but both boys managed
to clear their trays, James even going back for a second helping of
the stew it was that good.

Elliot
contented himself with another ripe yellowfruit, one of his
favourites. They were considered an expensive delicacy in Murdoch
but here they were piled high in bowls at the end of the servery
hatches and Niaill laughingly told him to help himself to as many
as he wanted.

“Market is full
of them,” he said, “always is this time of year. Now, you mentioned
that you wanted to speak to one of the cadets? This might be a good
time.”

“I’ve got a
letter to deliver to her,” Elliot informed him, “from her sister.
We met on the way here.”

“What’s her
name?”

“Rilla. Rilla
Talansdochter.”

“I don’t know
her,” admitted Niaill, “but if you hang on I’ll go find her for
you.”

When Rilla
appeared, Elliot was surprised. He had imagined she would be like
either the pretty, vivacious Zilla or the tall, confident
Hilla.

She was
neither, being slim, dark and shy. Only in the area of her mouth
did she resemble her sisters.

“Ryzcka Niaill
said you wanted to speak to me?” she asked in a quiet voice that
just matched her appearance.

“Er, yes,” said
Elliot, “me and my friend here, we stayed at your father’s inn and
your sister asked me if I could give this to you.” He handed over
the letter.

“From Zilla. Oh
thank you so much. I wasn’t expecting this.”

“I understand,”
said Elliot who knew the reason behind her comment.

“She is well?”
Rilla asked, holding the precious letter against her.

“Very well,”
confirmed Elliot, “she talked about you a lot.”

Rilla looked at
him, “will you, will you be returning the same way? I could …”

Elliot shook
his head. “I regret.”

“I understand,”
Rilla said, “there’s the bell, I must go,” and she turned and sped
away, much as Elliot would have liked to talk to her further. He
hadn’t even had the chance to tell her that Robain had in his
possession another letter, this one from Hilla. He supposed Robain
would seek her out another time, shrugged and bent his energies to
the yellowfruit.

By the time he
and James had finished their meal, Philip and Robain had not yet
made their appearance so Niaill arrived back to ‘claim his
kuras’.

“Rilla see
you?” he demanded.

“Yes,” answered
James, “but she had to go.”

“Class,”
acknowledged Niaill. “The cadets are kept busy, especially the
third and fourth stripes. Coming? Plenty more to see.”

Elliot and
James were happy to remain with Niaill. He was an interesting
conversationalist and regaled them with stories and legends about
the Vada interspaced with anecdotes about him and his Taraya.

“Thought we
might go visit the Inner Sanctum,” he said.

“What is that?”
asked Elliot, “a chapel?”

“The Inner
Sanctum is a place of peace, where we remember what has gone
before, who has gone before I should say. You’ll see; it is
interesting as well as being peaceful. Right over here.”

The building
stood on its own in the midst of a garden of sweet smelling dalina
flowers. Elliot recognised them by their smell - they were a
favourite of his mother.

“We go in
here,” said Niaill opening the door and ushering them inside. Both
boys blinked as their eyes adjusted to the dim light. The celestery
windows that provided the light were shuttered. Niaill opened them
using a long pole with a peculiar end with which he opened the
catches pulling them back with the comment, “now we will be able to
see.”

Elliot and
James turned a full circle examining the room. It was octagonal in
shape as was the roof, the walls of varnished wood. One of the
eight sides held the door. On the other seven walls were boards
filled with names in silver leaf. Five were titled Susa. The first
four of these had ten names each, with dates, the fifth had three
names. Above the door was a smaller board with two lines of
lettering.

Niaill saw them
looking.

“These five are
the names of all the Susas, ten to a board. Susa Julia and Alfei
are the forty-fourth to command. When they resign, or die, their
names are added. Look, here are Susa Francis and Asya, the very
first and the founders of the Vada then Tina and Daltei who
followed them and here,” he moved over to the second board, “are
Lynsey and Bernei, heroes of the Battle of Fountains Head in AL167.
They were Susyc; that is the overall commanders of the Armies of
the North. There have only been two, Jim and his Larya and Lynsey
and Bernei. Theirs is that small, dull board above the door.”

“What are the
other two boards?” asked James. “They’re empty.”

“For the future
but you and I’ll be dead and gone by the time they are used.”

“What are the
leather books on the table?” asked Elliot in a whisper. The room
was saying ‘peace’ even though its contents were a commemoration of
war.

“That big one
is known as ‘The Book of the Fallen’,” Niaill explained. “It’s not
the first volume; I think it’s the seventh. In this the Vada
chronicler records all the names of those who have died performing
their duty, together with a short resume of their lives and how
they died. In that casement over there are books and books covering
the complete list of Vada members from earliest times. They contain
information about those who lived to enjoy a well earned
retirement, in the majority these days thank the lai.”

“And the other
book? The blue one?”

“That is the
‘Honour Roll’,” said a respectful Niaill. “In it are inscribed
those who have been awarded the Honour Star. The Honour Star is the
Vada’s reward for supreme bravery, not for us the different medals
for one campaign and another. They are silver and are worn on the
collar. Even cadets have been awarded them in the past; a long time
ago. Very few are awarded nowadays. I cannot remember any and me
and Taraya have been serving for quite a fair number of years. I
don’t think there’s any alive who have been awarded the
honour.”

James had
wandered over to the wall boards.

“It’s like
being in the history books, Lynsey and Bernei, Rhian and Tadei, I
remember reading about them,” he turned to Niaill and his eyes were
caught by some lettering inscribed into the wood of the ceiling.
“What is that?”

“Our motto. It
is what we of the Vada live by.”

Elliot read
them out.

“Truth … Duty
…Courage and Honour.”

He marvelled.
There was nothing remotely like this at home. He rather thought he
would have liked to be part of all this rather than being heir to
his grandfather’s throne.

* * * * *

Niaill and
Danal

Danal and Asya
arrived at Vada barely a bell after Elliot and James had been
persuaded to go back to the inn by an exhausted Niaill.

The two
brothers greeted each other with much laughter and
back-slapping.

“Well met,”
exclaimed Niaill.

“Well met
indeed little brother, I’ve been hearing things, good things about
you and Taraya. Keep going like this and you will be the next
Susa.”

“Lai forbid,”
replied Niaill. “I wouldn’t have Julia and Alyei’s job for all the
kala on the planet. What brings you here?”

“I’m on
duty.”

“On duty? Here?
At the Stronghold? What’s up? Never thought there were any secrets
here for the Avuzdel to spy out.”

“It’s a special
sort of duty,” said Danal. “I’m guarding someone, several persons
in fact.”

Now, Niaill, as
his brother had always known, was quick off the mark (too quick as
some of the younger vadeln in his Ryzck said).

“Guard duty?
Protection? Not those southerners and that Garda Captain I’ve been
showing around?”

“The very
same.”

“But what’s so
important about them?” asked a perplexed Niaill. “We’ve had scions
of southern nobility here before and they’ve not had Avuzdel
guarding them. I took the younger two round this afternoon, we
visited the Inner Sanctum and they seemed quite ordinary, or are
they?”

“Keep your
voice down Niaill and keep it to yourself, it’s the younger one,
calls himself Kellen Merriman, he’s really the Prince-Heir to the
throne of Murdoch.”

“Never. Why, a
more polite young man I’ve never met. He’s
not
the
heir?”

“The very
same,” grinned Danal, “and yours truly is the hidden bodyguard. He
doesn’t know about Asya and me but we’ve been shadowing them since
they left Settlement. Done a pretty good job so far too if I say so
myself.”

“Why you?”

“Three ruffians
got into the inn where they were staying and tried to kill the
prince. Trouble at home apparently; he’d not be the first prince
someone wants out of the way. They failed. One assassin was killed
and another taken prisoner. One of the companions of the prince was
wounded and unable to carry on. Captain Hallam was ordered to take
his place and then I was brought in as insurance. Captain Hallam
was told that an unobtrusive eye would be kept on them, he wasn’t
told any details but I expect he knows.”

“What about the
third assassin?”

“Asya and I
took care of him a day out of Settlement. He was good, but not good
enough. He did talk though, before we dealt with him, whoops, I
meant before he met with his fatal accident, not that anything he
could have said would have saved him. Asya and I had our
orders.”