The Faerion (12 page)

"She's done it then. She is truly her mother's child."

"Who is her father?" asked Elise.

"Since he is living, I shall not presume to answer for him. She must seek her own answers from him." They watched her fly high above them but even as a hawk Blackthorne's magic kept her over the compound.

"Very pretty," said Blackthorne.

Wynne came to Blackthorne that evening and they spent the hours until dawn reading from the Faerion. A very confident Wynne greeted the Tuors the next morning.

"We will be leaving tomorrow. Blackthorne expects Berimar to arrive this afternoon and thinks we should greet him if for no other reason than to know Berimar and avoid him at all costs."

"Sounds dangerous just to meet him," said Tomen. "Even if it is safe here, Berimar will know us for future encounters. We will no longer escape his notice."

"This is all over my head," said Culver. "I don't want to get mixed up with sorcerers."

"You wanted to come along," said Elise. "You are doing fine. Relax. Wynne and Blackthorne will protect us."

"Actually, there will be quite a lot of danger for you," said Blackthorne, appearing out of a shadow. "Paulenis is still here and he wields some magic. Berimar is a jewel. His power is great and he is a shadow of Lady Natale Galamog, the Dark Queen."

"Why should we risk meeting Berimar?" asked Wynne.

"To sow seeds of doubt. My power is strongest here and no one can pierce the shadows I drape over this portion of the land, not even Galamog. Berimar will not be able to know your worth and he will wonder about you. He might even worry about you. And if we allow him a glimpse of the Faerion, he will go sleepless thinking about you."

Culver found himself sleepless, lying next to Elise's warm back, her own breathing rising and falling gently. Culver found no comfort in it. He rolled away, rising to his feet. He walked down the hallway that never seemed to end. He marveled at the house, small on the outside and nearly a palace inside. There were many rooms. He passed Tomen's and Wynne's and then the southerner Paulenis' room. Culver did not know where Blackthorne slept. The floor was cool stone polished to smooth ebony that did not show scratches. Culver tried to mark the floor one day, but Blackthorne discreetly cleared his throat; stopping the little Tuor from more mischief.

The outer doors were open and at home Culver favored an evening walk through the flowers and gardens of Paglo. Since Wynne allowed Blackthorne to see the Faerion they were no longer locked in at night. He felt that Blackthorne's beautiful garden would be just the thing for his insomnia. The cool air felt wonderful and he felt himself gliding around the garden, happy and nearly singing. He walked around for several minutes, and then found a wrought iron bench to sit on. His thoughts drifted away.

Suddenly, he felt chilled. The air had turned cold. He looked around, sensing a presence, but he could see no one. He thought he heard something near the gate and cautiously made the way there. He knew he heard voices, sinister whispers in some unknown language. He strained his eyes to see into the darkness, but there was no movement. He was patient.

All Culver saw at first was the huge black shadow with the blood red eyes.

"Are you the door servant? A gnome of some kind, I suppose," rasped the voice. "Tell Blackthorne I have come."

Culver's ears reddened at being mistaken for a gnome, even if it was a shadow talking to him. He looked closer, but saw no features.

"Who shall I say is calling?"

"Ah, a polite gnome. Tell your master that Berimar is here, and my patience is thin. If you can remember all that, gnome. I am waiting!!" A storm crackled overhead, lighting flashes displaying the tall black figure reaching out a gnarled orange hand. Culver shook where he stood, unsure of what to do. His legs would not obey him.

The daylight failed as Apal's troupe reached the ancient walls of Nantitet. The majestic walls of white stone surrounded the royal city, a formidable defense and serene security for the people of Nantitet. No army had ever conquered the city during the thousand years the wall guarded it. The guard turrets rose like jagged teeth over the white walls resembling polished seashells in the sun. Another wall rose high inside the city surrounding the inner castle known to the people of Nantitet as the 'palace.' Apal made them halt behind gorse trees out of sight of the guards lining the walls. Estes knew the guard rotation but saw a dozen more guards than expected. Guards stood at each corner of the wall while patrols reached each checkpoint every quarter hour. They watched the movement of the stern faced guards. They heard no voices. The usual banter of the watch was silent.

"What's going on?" asked Estes, jittery with the idea of sneaking into his own city under Treteste's nose. He did not recognize the mood of the guards.

"Martial law," said Apal. "There are still supporters of Yeates in strong numbers in Nantitet. Treteste is merely preparing for violence. There wouldn't be anything of a large scale - an assassin or two, but he is taking no chances. The dissidents are not well organized yet. They can be, and I plan to see it done. I want to reach the Boars head Tavern. I have some friends there."

"That's a filthy place, full of cutthroats and.."

"Yes it is. Remember Rapert; the wrong words from you will cost us our lives. And I will kill you before I allow you to endanger Melana or me. Is that understood?"

"When I am king, you will have a lot to answer for." His face flushed and he spoke between his teeth.

Apal grimaced, striking Estes alongside the head. Estes stumbled.

"You are a fool, Rapert. Navir was right. I can imagine his joy at being free of your company. I wonder now if he merely fled your presence, not the trolls. I had hoped you would be the leader Calendia needs. I thought perhaps Navir just didn't care for our race, he had reasons not to, but now it is clear it was you alone that disgusted him."

"How can you talk to me that way?"

"You just don't get it, do you? You will have to earn your throne. You will have to prove yourself to my friends and me. The throne is not something that is owed to you. You must be worthy of the throne. Your father wasn't worthy, Treteste is not worthy and right now, you are not worthy." He looked into Estes' eyes. Estes turned away.

Apal walked back to the others.

"Come, we shall enter the city now."

They walked to the gate and the guards admitted them without question, their vocation obvious to the guards. The approach to the gate stretched long and straight, giving the guards ample time to observe all who came to the gate. Apal's troupe was well known in Calendia, but seldom heard. It proved to be an interesting benefit of fame. Still, one guard watched them until they rounded a corner two blocks away.

Nantitet looked different to Estes. The smells stronger, pungent and the world had a texture he hadn't noticed before. He wasn't sure that he liked it, but it was new to him and he felt keen on learning about it. He realized that he did not know as much as he should of the people he intended to rule. Apal's attitude surprised him, and he hoped it was not a common one although he knew that was a futile wish. He stepped in a puddle of water to get out of the way of a carriage and the water soaked his feet. He saw Apal watching him.

"Make way for the nobility. We are honored by their presence." Apal spoke in a mocking tone. Estes set his jaw and continued on.

Far more people filled the streets than Estes imagined. He seldom had the opportunity to walk the streets without an armed escort. He pulled back from the people walking past and tried not to make eye contact. Each person on the street with business to conduct, scraping for the coin to buy meals and provide a roof. They seemed lively, happy in their activity if not their lot in life.

Estes stopped at a baker's stand. The aroma was too compelling to pass by. A notion came into his head and he spoke to the baker.

"How's life with Treteste as king?"

"About the same. No notice to regular folk. You are singing in town?"

"Yes," said Estes. "But I'm not sure where."

"We don't have a job yet, but we will," said Apal.

"There really isn't any difference between kings?" asked Estes, determined to sort it out.

"We had nothing when Yeates was king and we have nothing now. Kings don't care for regular folk; they have their money to count. Hey, what's the matter?"

Estes' face was red with rage and he seemed to be choking. Apal quickly supported him.

"He has a bad stomach. Takes over suddenly. He'll be all right in a few minutes."

"My wife makes a drink for that. Vile stuff, but it works. Here, I'll fetch some." He vanished in a blink and returned nearly as fast. Perhaps he didn't trust his customers.

"Here you go." He held up a yellowish mixture in a cup. "Go on drink it."

"Yes," said Apal, grinning. "Drink it."

Estes had no choice but to drink. The smell curdled his nose hairs and it was difficult not to gag while swallowing the creamy concoction. There was a lump, then two, and then more. Estes felt the things slipping down his throat. Finally, he was through. Apal stood next to him, smiling brightly.

"Thank you, sir," said Apal. "That should fix him right up. How much?"

"My pleasure. No payment. Glad to have helped."

Apal steered Estes away, laughing in his ear. "Hold your feelings in; you almost gave us away there. I will tell you once; betray us and you are dead. Accidental or purposeful, I will kill you. No man is more important than Calendia."

The Boars head Tavern squeezed among the buildings near the center of Nantitet in the shadow of the palace. They walked briskly nodding to the people calling out to them, but they didn't stop. Several patrols of stern guards passed them, covertly eyeing them suspiciously. Apal shook his head. Some of those guards cheered the loudest at their last performance. He knew their faces. Now the guards treated them like potential enemies. The influence of Treteste could only harm Calendia, thought Apal, renewing his resolve. Treteste's rule must be brief or the damage would never be reversed.

Before they reached the tavern a man in a purple tunic stepped in front of Apal.

"Do I address Apal the minstrel?" The voice was high and pinched.

"Yes, I am Apal."

"I bring a request from Queen Richela for your troupe to perform this evening for the Queen. I will send a servant to guide your steps at dusk." Without waiting for an answer the messenger walked away.

"What do we do now?" asked Rapert.

"We perform for the Queen."

"But I.."

"You will do fine," said Apal.

"That's not what I mean."

"I know quite well what you mean, but we are in the street. Anything you say may be overhead and quite easily. Do not call undue attention to us. However, we cannot reject a royal summons. You should know that. We must respond quickly for the Queen will be waiting."

Apal led them to the tavern, walking through the main room to one in the back without even a sideways glance at the proprietor. Estes looked all around, appalled to be in such a place. One ravaged face he peered at growled at him. When they were all present, Apal shut the door.

"We have some time to relax and review the order of play."

"Do I have to?" asked Estes.

"If you don't, you might get us all killed. You must perform and perform well. Your voice is pleasing. Just relax. I will not speak of it again."

The innkeeper came in and sat down.

"I can spare a few minutes, Apal," said Waren. "Those girls of mine are old enough to handle things out there. Ah, it's good to get off my feet." The pink-faced man looked around the troupe. "Some new faces. Good, good. Always keep variety around these parts. I had a minstrel last month that tried to sing the same songs each night. His lute is still here. The crowd chased him out so fast he couldn't collect his belongings. Imagine he'll be sending for it one day, I shouldn't wonder."

He turned his attention to Apal. "Now, what brings you to Nantitet at this time? I expect you know Treteste is king and what an idiot he is. Do you know I think he will even be worse than that Yeates? Never thought it possible."

Estes squirmed in his seat. Apal saw the whiteness of the lower lip and hoped the boy wouldn't bite through it before they sang for the queen.

"We are to sing for the queen."

"So I hear, so I hear. But that offer came just lately, after you arrived. What are you planning, Apal? Do I need to pack up and leave?"

"Nothing so spectacular. Still planning, I'm afraid. Too many variables to more quickly."

"Ah, I hear such things here. Like the prince surviving the siege and that crazy sorceress disappearing with some Elven book of power. I sort of liked Wynne, but I never spoke to her and only saw her half a dozen times. There was something about her-kind of queenly. I'll tell you what; she'd be more a fit ruler than Prince Estes would have been. Too bad he survived. He'd make a mess of things or he's no son of Yeates'. I understand why you are planning so carefully. Can't have Estes claiming the throne."

Deenie had put her arm around Estes at that moment from a signal by Apal. Estes was startled by the closeness of her body and stammered. She put a finger to his lips and smiled. "Must relax and rest before the performance." She looked into his eyes, and then returned to her place near the window. Estes then noticed Waren had gone. He sheepishly smiled at Apal who watched him and looked down at his feet.

Food and drink were brought and each of them sat quietly among their own thoughts. Estes watched them awhile before deciding to lean back, closing his eyes.

Later, Melana gently shook him awake

"It's time."

Estes felt the knot in his stomach tighten, and his mouth was suddenly dry. Apal looked over each of them, nodding his head.

"I think we are ready. Remember we are performing for the Queen. I shall be the only one to speak and for all our sakes, if you are spoken to, answer quickly and humbly without looking into their eyes. They might think you believe yourself equal to them."